#and so they just crave finding somewhere else because they want to grab onto that other life they feel like they couldve had

[termagax]

i think when she leaves itd be something like. "why do u have to leave" "i just do. i cant just be here forever. why do u have to stay" "i just do. i have too much that depends on me." she doesnt care for + resents his notion of duty and his need to live up to his father and he doesnt understand their itch to travel and do/see more or the way they feel like trollmarket is limiting for her. ykwim?

[wifeofasith]

Warnings — Angst & Fluff, Professor x Student relationship, reader feels inferior, implied smut, descriptions of sex, inappropriate touching (brief), degrading (brief), reader's jealous, Anakin has anger issues, word 'homicidal' mentioned, neglection, Anakin is slightly aggressive.

Word count — 2.3k

Notes — Another lovely request, loved it! I'm not too good at angst because anything that doesn't involve Anakin being head over heels for the reader makes my heart ache, whoops. Also, REAL sorry if somebody's name's Janette, I love the name but reader calls her a slut.

"Dismissed." Professor Skywalker tosses his glasses aside and leans back in his chair. A delicate frown is present between his eyebrows.

He hadn't looked at you once.

An hour-and-a-half-long lecture and not one stare at you. Not a glance at the outfit you so carefully picked for him; the absence of his touch was already unbearable, but the way he avoided your darting eyes broke your heart. You wanted him to look at you. To look at you the way he does at night.

You look at his hands, slender fingers gripping the chalk; they're supposed to be on you. Gripping your hips to push himself deeper into you, holding your wrists, caressing your waist, and kneading the delicate flesh of your thighs when he pushes them back over his broad shoulders... Why isn't he looking at you?

You stuff your books into your tote, zipping it up with a forceful pull, purposely creating an irritating sound in your last attempts to get his attention. You feel a disappointed twitch in your eyebrow when he remains seated, toying with his pen while staring down at somebody else's essay.

One of the students makes her way towards his desk, slipping him another report while batting her lashes in an attempt to ease his feelings about turning in late. She leans forward, pointing at something while trying to explain herself, a cover up to push her clevage to his eye level. He takes her paper and piles it up with all the other works, nodding at the little tease and sending her off with a comment about how he won't tolerate it ever again. You wonder if his pants get a little bit tighter at the sight of her too.

You leave last. You always do. Despite his obvious uninterest in entertaining your need for his attention, you give him one last chance.

"I'll pick you up at six." He mutters, still not looking at you. 

Your silence obviously disturbs him; you don't greet his preposition with a smile and an eager puppy-like nod like you usually do.

"That's alright with you, darlin'?" He adds with a raspy voice, glancing in your direction.

Your heart sinks and insides flutter when the vibration of his tone reaches your ears. How can he do this to you? How can he pretend like you don't exist and then dare to offer his nighttime company? And yet, you want nothing else but to feel his lips all over your body again, even at the price of your dignity. You find enough self-respect to slam the door in his face.

With 6 p.m. approaching, you find yourself sitting at your vanity mirror and trying to decide if your body's mere worth is some cheap lip gloss and a skimpy dress for your professor to tear off as soon as he parks his black Chevy somewhere secluded enough.

Before you know it, he's outside your house. You watch him get out of his car, flicking the ashes of his cigarette onto the concrete and tossing the butt somewhere in the grass. He adjusts the collar of his shirt and knocks on your door.

You wait. Ten seconds, twenty, half a minute. Your heartbeat increases with each passing blink of time, and you're pretty sure he knows you're doing it on purpose. Eventually, you decide that you won't offer for him to come in. Grabbing your jacket and purse, you make your way out.

"Hi, love." He greets you with a smile, which is entirely different from how he's behaving during lectures. He's welcoming, almost sweet; maybe it's just a silly trick to make you crave his attention, thus allowing him to strip you off your panties quicker.

Anakin leans in to peck your cheek, which you dodge by turning around to lock your doors. He waits for the lock to click in place before wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing himself against your back.

"You're mad. Why?" His lips brush over your clothed shoulder. 

He can feel how your body quivers when you swallow a lump that's been in your throat since 8 a.m. You hate how loving he can be; you hate how he manipulates you with his touch, making you feel like you're more than just a naive student for him. You hate it, and you crave it. His hands are warm on your waist, and you can feel your cheeks getting hotter from the forming tears.

"Darlin'?" He kisses your pulse point gently, waiting for you to speak.

"Let's go." You blink the wetness off your eyelids and head towards his car. Your sides instantly shiver when they aren't shielded by his grip.

Anakin starts the car in silence, giving you an uncomfortable look at how you didn't even allow him to open the door for you. The engine roars to life, and he's about to drive off when he leans across your body.

"Seatbelt, darlin'." He doesn't wait for you to reach for it — he's already buckling you in.

"Why don't you look at me?" You begin speaking when he's out on the road.

"What do you mean, bunny? I am. You look gorgeous. Like every night." His hand leaves the gearstick and finds place on your knee, gently caressing the inside of your thigh. 

"During lectures. You'd rather look at some slut like Janette instead of me." You cut him off, complaining about the unfairness of his actions.  

"And you?" He laughs. Mockingly. "You are not a slut? Spreading your legs whenever I call you." His hand on your thigh glides up to brush against your panties. "But you like it when I call you that, don't you?"

He doesn't take you seriously at all. He is oblivious to the fact that his words claw a gaping hole in your chest, leaving your heart sore and lungs collapsing at the attempts to hold your pains. You push his hand off your core in a disgusted manner and shut your legs close.

"You're seriously mad at me?" He shifts gears, and you feel how the vehicle starts speeding, your body tensing in alertness.

You know he's not going to hurt you, not physically, and yet you can't stop shuddering. Your cheeks heat up once more, and this time there is no strength in you to stop the inevitable.

"I treat you well, don't I? Do you know how you'd be treated if I were somebody else?!" The highway is ending as he's taking a turn towards your usual spot of desire. His tone is increasing with every word.

"Drive me home!" You slap the panel, hysteria in your voice is present as thick tears drop onto your lap.

"You're not going anywhere!" He stops the car on the sidewalk, not making his full way into the forest. That's when he can finally see your mascara-stained cheeks.

Anakin groans at the sight; his fingers curl into fists as he pounds onto the steering wheel. "You're so fucking-" He groans again, trying to stop himself from saying something he'll regret later, and leans to rest his head, sighing deeply.

The car fills with your sobs and sniffles. You sit there, buckled up like a child who's been denied candy, and weep. Anakin lets out a sigh and frees himself from the seatbelt, clicking yours off too.

"Come here."

"No! I'm done doing this; I'm done letting you use me like I'm worthless!" 

He sighs again, rubbing his face aggressively, trying his best to contain his anger and focus on how your whines are hurting his ears and heart.

"It's okay, come here, bunny." He places his hand on the back of your head and pulls you to lean on his shoulder. Pathetically, you wrap your arms around his neck and continue sobbing into his button-up. "There she is; come here." He grabs you by the waist and pulls, guiding you to climb out of your seat and onto his lap.

Unfortunately, his gesture only forces more tears. You rest your head on his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. He cradles your quivering body to his chest, one arm wrapped around your legs and the other keeping you in place by your back. 

"Silly girl, you've ruined your make up." He wipes your cheeks with his sleeve, black ink staining the cotton. "I'd never force you, you know that? If you don't want to, you don't need to go with me, yeah?" His anger seems to be ceasing, and you wish your despair was too. His attempts to comfort you are bittersweet.

"You said I was the prettiest girl... You always say that; you touch me, you- you... How can you do this? Why don't I matter to you?" Words spill from your mouth; endless thoughts are rushing through your mind, and your tongue is unable to catch up with all of them. And his hands. His hands, his hands, his hands. His hands are holding you, caressing you, wiping away your tears, and it hurts, hurts, hurts so bad you want to tear his perfect face off his skull and drive his stupid Camaro into a lake.

"You are, you are the prettiest girl; you're the perfect girl, bunny, my perfect girl, okay? Of course you matter." He seems to be pretty unaware of your homicidal ideas because he keeps stroking your hair, trying to console you. "Of course you matter; look at me." He cups your cheek and forces you to face him.

"Why won't you look at me?" You manage to form a full sentence, uninterrupted by little sniffles.

"Well because..." He sighs. "You know it's not right. We can't have people know about us." His finger gently brushes a strand of your hair off your cheek. "You're my student. A good one at that; I wouldn't want anybody to think your A's are earned with your pretty little pussy." He chuckles at his crappy attempt to make you laugh.

"So you'd rather hurt me?" Your eyebrows furrow, and anger slowly replaces sadness at how naive he thinks you are. "What could a little glance give away? A little praise? A text message about my pretty clothes when nobody's looking?!" Anakin is getting a taste of his own medicine, feeling the exact same emotions you feel when he shouts at you for being sensitive.

"Well, that's the thing, darlin', somebody is always looking. I don't want to risk it; you have to understand..." He coos at you gently, his lips pressing against your cheeks. "You're such a sweet girl; I can't put you at risk, why don't you get it?" 

You knew that it wasn't just you. He had to protect himself too; he was a well-respected professor, his career was great, he was loved, but... But still. Your little heart couldn't comprehend the fact that your love wasn't enough for him. That he didn't love you a bit more to show some affection that wouldn't involve an orgasm eventually. 

"I just... I just want to feel like I matter..." You sniffle the last tears away; there is disappointment in your voice. You are aware that this relationship is not meant to go anywhere, and you wish he'd deny that. Even if deep down, you both would know it's a lie.

"You do, bunny, of course you do. Do you have any idea how it's hurting me too? To have you crying in my arms..." Anakin cradles you closer to himself. "I just wish you could be happy, sweet girl. I'm sorry I've done this to your heart, I'm sorry for ever laying my hands on you..." He kisses your cheek, trailing up to your temple, and sighs. "I'm so sorry, darlin'..."

You sit there in silence, the headlights of cars passing in the distance casting short flashes of light over you both. The car's getting colder, and Anakin tries his best to embrace you and keep your body warm. 

"Let's get you home, bunny." He caresses the back of your head, touching it so delicately that you'd think you were made of porcelain. "You should get some rest."

Home? No. No, no no no. You don't want to go home. You want to stay. You want to be held, and you need his arms to caress you. You can't go home and rot in self-pity the whole night. You need him. 

But you can't say that; the words are stuck in your throat, and you're pretty sure he wouldn't be able to understand the depth of your feelings. So you cling onto him, your arms squeeze his body impossibly close, as if doing that could close a wound that's open inside of you. 

Anakin chuckles softly. "You don't want to go, do you?" He nuzzles his nose into your cheek and kisses it. "That's okay. I don't want to let go of you either. I just love holding you, precious." 

"Can I stay with you?" You hesitantly whisper in the crook of his neck; his skin shivers under your lips.

"For the night?" He pulls away slightly to gaze into your eyes. Tomorrow's Saturday, and you can seriously see him considering bringing you home. 

"I don't want to be alone." 

He smiles warmly, his hand cups your cheek once again, and gently kisses your lips, lingering for a moment. "I was about to ask you." He smiles and pecks your forehead. You know he's lying, but he couldn't tell you no when your doe eyes stare at him pleadingly and the thought of you crying yourself to sleep stabs his heart.

"Let's go, bunny. Get you a milkshake, mmm? Then I'll cuddle my princess to sleep. I can't bear seeing your little heart ache." He urges you to move off his lap and back into your seat. 

You can swear his hands were trembling ever so slightly when he put the key back into ignition and started the car. Maybe this time he'll love you in a way so the pleasure fills your heart instead.

[bunniislvt]

hello! the scissoring part 2 post was a masterpiece ❤️ thank you for writing it! i was wondering if i could request hcs on how jean, shinobu, beidou, and yoimiya act when they're needy/horny, please? thank you!

jean definitely lets her mind wander while she is working, but then she has to deal with the consequences of letting her dirty thoughts get the better of her during work hours :(

her mind gets all spacey while all it can think about is you and all the things the two of you do together

tries to hurry and finish all her work so she can go home early but she just can't because of how dazed she is :(

it's so sad how it's the only thing she can think of

when she's with you her touches will linger a little longer and she'll kiss you with more fervor than she always does

you can easily tell when she is horny though because of the far away look in her eyes and the soft pink tint to her cheeks<3

jean tries to keep herself composed during her office hours, but it gets hard :( she's all alone at her desk with nothing to do, and she doubts anyone will come in to see her anytime soon... she can't help but let her fingers trace over her thigh and up to where she desires to be touched most. it's nothing too crazy, just gentle touching to try and appease her craving. but it doesn't work. of course it doesn't, the only think that was suffice would be you.

once it's time to go home to you, jean quickly takes that opportunity. she shuts the door behind her to be greeted with your adorable smile beaming up at her. you're so cute<33 her gaze was firm yet her eyes looked like they were somewhere else, softly panting as she reaches for you. her hands grab your waist and she pulls you close, turning you two so your back is flatly pressed against the door. "need you," she whispers, her mouth finding yours in a hurried kiss.

shinobu is kind of the opposite of jean, while she still can only think of dirty things, her mind is more refined and sharpened

no matter what she is doing, she always goes to find you to relieve her urges

instead of having a spacey dazed stare, hers resembles more of a hunter stalking it's prey

she gets handsy and can't stop touching you, your waist, thighs, chest, ass, it's all appealing to her

maybe she'll even graze her sharp teeth against the skin of your neck if she's really trying to drive the point home that she needs you

shinobu pants as she looks for you, the throbbing in her cunt taking up all the space in her mind. it was a miracle that no one could see the dampness beginning to form by her thighs with how short her shorts are. her eyes are sharp and fierce with hunger as she searches, calling your name. between her legs ache with every second that passes where you're tongue is not against her clit. wherever could you have gone?

her search doesn't last too much longer as she finds you picking ripe purple fruits from trees. as soon as her eyes find you, she rushes forward and captures you in her arms, the force bringing both of you to the ground and the fruit flying out of the basket around. you let out a surprised squeak that turns into soft whimpering as her lips attack your neck, shooting tingles up your spine. you can tell by the way her hands roam you that she needs you.

beidou would go straight to you at even the slightest feeling of horniness

woman fucks, like I mean she fucksss

and she loves it too, so why wouldn't she want to whenever her body allowed it? she knew you'd love it too<33

she's very direct, first with her touches and then with her words

she'll make it clear what her objective is by locking the door every time without fail behind her and then striding over to begin touching you

always touches you first, her pleasure comes from yours

beidou feels the familiar tingling in her lower stomach and she smiles ear to ear. she wastes no time in making her way to your cabin on the ship, not bothering to knock. this is where she found you, and based off the way her eyes immediately locked onto you while she locked the door behind her, the smirk growing larger on her face, you could tell you were really in for it. her strides were long and it took seconds for her to have you captured beneath her, her hands find yours and pressing them up above your head.

"look at you... such a cute little thing all for me," she'd coo, her lips tracing against your neck and coming up to your lips where she kissed you passionately. her free hand dropped to your side, tracing up and down leaving goosebumps in it's wake. "I want you," she murmured, beginning to remove your clothes and her own in the process of covering you with kisses. her touch was gentle yet demanding, she knew what she wanted and she would always be direct with it.

yoimiya is unaware of this, but her face turns bright red when she is horny

she's also very adamant about getting you two in a private place just to spend some one on one time together

you always let her think that she's being secretive, you play along and then "surprise" her with your touching later on

she also begins to be a bit more whiny, groaning softly as the time goes on and you two are not in your own company

impatient and whiny<3

yoimiyas face was bright red and her eyes felt distant despite looking straight at you. her hands were a little sweaty as they never wanted to leave yours. despite wanting to come out to town with you, she was very persistent in going back home to "relax". it was obvious what she wanted, you just wanted to tease her a bit by insisting they go to one more shop, then another, and another, until she couldn't help it and started tugging you in the direction of her house. she would never tell you that she was horny, but her face made it so clear.

once at home, shed insist the two of you go cuddle in her bed, which you agree to. once situated and curled up under the sheets, you give her what she wants. though she may look surprised, she lets out sighs of relief as your fingers work into her. she's grateful that you can always tell when she is needy, blissfully unaware of the shade her face turns when she is. it's like you just know her so perfectly, like how you know the right angle to have her crying in seconds.

[spenciegoob]

A Special Kind of Man

this fic swap is for @safertokiss​​ ... I really hope you like it, emma bc this was so fun to write lol

A/N: OMG! this is a part of my first fic swap and the first time I’ve done something like this with so many people, it’s been so cool.

Summary: Spencer Reid was a virgin, you knew that. What you didn’t expect however was how much he was really holding back.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: loss of virginity (spencer), mommy kink, penetrate sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

___

I always knew Spencer Reid was special, and sure, everyone he’s ever had a conversation with would look at this 24 year old kid spewing facts that no human would think to ever learn about, stockpiling knowledge about, well, everything. I’m sure he amazes people with his mind, I too am amazed when he opens his mouth and the exact number of a certain model Ford truck that is bought every year falls out.

But what else I knew about Spencer that made him more special, more worshipable was beyond anything anyone outside our closed doors would know, and my god would I ever be a fool if I didn’t do just that; worship him.

I would have continued to believe that somewhere down the line, someone would have been smart enough to give that man every piece of love and attention he deserves, because let me be perfectly candid, Spencer was beautiful. His jawline that never lacked the tension of holding back every nugget of knowledge he had stored in that beautiful brain of his, and the eyes like honey that stare up at me with an innocence and desperation alike every time I straddle his lap.

Spencer Reid was not only worth worshipping, but he believed that I deserve that kind of dedication and preach as well.

I never did quite ask if he was a virgin, but in the back of my mind I always knew he had been surrounded by blind fools his whole life in the way he grasped onto my body and whimpered in my mouth every time I perched myself onto him. He would never go further than heavy petting, which meant neither did I. Spencer may be worth worshipping, but I would never push him to receive such.

So, when we found ourselves entangled once again, my legs spread to wrap around his hips as he sat perched against the back of the couch, and I felt the coolness of his hesitant fingers snake their way under my shirt, I was surprised into pulling away from the heavy kiss we were sharing. Immediately his hands, that initially sent a chill hurtling up my spine only to fill me with warmth, returned back to my waist over the shirt, scared that he had done something wrong.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, looking down and rushing through the words with so much embarrassment and fear of my reaction as if I could ever imagine tantalizing or walking away from him.

“Do you want to?” I asked, and personally thanked whoever was listening that Spencer Reid was a profiler, because even if I wanted to, I couldn’t hide the lust in my eyes, or the breathiness to my voice. He had, unbeknownst to my partner here, left me having to take deep breaths and positively buzzing. Like I said, I always knew he was special.

“Put my hands under your shirt?” Came his reply, and I may have never been a profiler, but I could hear, behind the confusion, fear of my rejection plaguing his mind.

“Yes,” I whispered, my lips grazing his cheek where I placed a soft kiss. Spencer’s grip on me tightened as I moved towards his ear, subconsciously pulling my hips down onto him. “Whatever you want, pretty boy.”

“You!” The exclamation was a shout mixed with a gasp once I sunk my teeth into his ear lobe. At first, I had not thought to take Spencer’s words so seriously. We were in the heat of the moment, hands grasping onto one another and lips finding skin, but then my sweet boy pushed me far back only so he could look in my eyes with the confidence of a man who just won the lottery to state. “I want you.”

There were multiple things I took note of when looking down at Spencer. The first being that he had only taken his eyes off of my own in favor of glancing down at my lips, then back at me before raising his eyebrows in silent question. The second was that he had not stopped squirming underneath me, the hard on trapped in his work slacks having to be uncomfortable by now, and the every few seconds he found friction against my own clothed center could not have been helping as much as he needed.

The third, and final thing I noticed buried deep into blown pupils and wide, boyish eyes was the lust, desperation, the need for me the same I held for him. Spencer Reid wanted nothing more in this moment than to show me he was a good boy, a special boy.

“Are you sure?” I barely got through the last word before Spencer started nodding. “I need words, pretty boy.”

“Yes,” his tone was already breathy, and we haven’t even started. “Yes, please. I’m ready.”

I didn’t wait, grabbing a hold of my sweet boy’s cheeks and bringing his face down to meet our lips. The kiss was slow, passionate of course, but I wanted to take my time with him. The way I see this going is spending carefully calculated time on every part of his body, worshipping him and giving him all of my love in the form of soft bites and deliberate touches. Spencer Reid was handing me all of him, and I would be foolish not to return the favor.

Spencer and I were not going into this blind, because no matter how embarrassed he got, we somehow ended up having a very enlightening conversation in the past, even if at first it had started as a joke.

“Not everything Freud has said in his life was completely untrue,” was what started the argument. Spencer, in his oh so need to discredit the behaviorists and psychoanalysts of the past, jumped at the opportunity to prove me wrong, but I wasn’t going to let him this time. “While he may have gone about it the… wrong way, Freud was onto something.”

I had unbeknownst to Spencer got up from my seat, and was quietly tiptoeing over to him. “You don’t agree that you wouldn enjoy calling me Mommy in bed, pretty boy?”

“I-I um…” Is what ended the argument.

I pulled back, admiring his swollen lips and eyes fluttering open before pulling my shirt over my head, giving Spencer a full view of my now bare chest. The only way I could describe his face was similar to what I would imagine someone’s expression would be if they had made a groundbreaking discovery. His eyes grew wide and his jaw went slack in surprise, plus he didn’t hesitate to shift his gaze to my breasts. I could feel his hands loosen their grip on my waist, fingertips itching to move up my body to feel more of me.

“Can- can I touch them?” He whispered, not taking his eyes off the body part in question. Spencer was still looking at my chest in awestruck, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel the same way I thought of him.; beautiful, worshipable, special.

I nodded my head, grabbing onto Spencer’s wrists where his hands still remained at my sides and slowly dragged them up to chest. There was no more hesitation, he pressed his palms onto my breasts and grabbed them, pushing them together before kneading them.

“Oh my god, they’re s-so soft” he gasped, eyes blowing wide.“I w-want you. Please, M-”

Spencer stopped himself, and I could feel the muscles in his body tensing at the accidental slip of the name I so desperately wanted to pull from him now that I knew he felt the same about it.

“What was that?” I hummed against him, starting to softly grind our aching centers against each other, eliciting the sweetest moans from the sweetest boy while he continued to palm my breasts.

“Please. Mommy, please.” And there it was, my title for the evening and the reason for the growing wetness at my core.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” The buttons on his shirt were harder to undo than I would like to admit, his fingers that have moved on to tweak my nipples pulling my concentration and causing me to moan quietly as I worked. Eventually I accomplished getting his shirt open, and he helped me to push it off his shoulders and off of him.

I ran my hand down his chest, relishing the whimpers falling from his lips and my featherlight touch traveling further to the waistband of his pants.

“Bedroom,” I whispered, attempting to remove myself from his lap in favor of moving this party to a more comfortable place than the couch. Spencer had other plans.

“Wait,” he shouted, grabbing my hand and pulling me back down on top of him. “I-I like it here.”

“On the couch, pretty boy?” It wasn’t that the position we were in wasn’t feasible, but this was Spencer’s first time. I wanted to make it as special as I could, starting with an actual bed.

“I want to be close to you.” If his words didn’t pull at my heartstrings, the way he looked down instead of in my eyes again did.

“Okay,” I agreed, and it was the truth, because the warmth spreading through me at the feeling of our bodies pressed so closely together was intoxicating. Spencer went to go unbutton my jeans, but I stopped him. Not because I didn’t want them off, but because he hadn’t realized that my plans for him included him sitting there and looking pretty like he always does. “Let me take care of you, sweet boy.”

I finished the job Spencer had started, getting up to unbutton my jeans and pull them down my legs. I heard him gasp at the sight of me now in only a pink thong before reaching out and making grabby hands at me. Instead of sitting back on his lap, I sunk to my knees on the floor, repeating the process on his work slacks and stripping him down to his boxers.

“Is this okay?” I asked, running my hands up and down his thighs in the most soothing manner. He responded with a hard nod and an ‘Yes, Mommy,’ shifting his hips closer to my hands in hopes that I would touch him where he craved the most. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t give him what he wanted. I didn’t use my hands, however, lowering my face to where there was an evident wet spot of precum on his boxers and placed a gentle kiss through the fabric on the tip of his dick.

Immediately his hands shot out to grab onto the sides of my face, forcing me away from his member to look up at him insead.

“I- I’m not going to last long like that,” he whispered. “Please, I need you, Mommy, please.”

I stood up, returning to my position perched onto his lap and smashing my lips to his. This kiss was much different than the ones we’ve shared previously, it was rushed, uncalculated and heavy. Tongues fought against each other and I caught his little whimpers in my mouth every time our cores rubbed against each other.

I grabbed onto the waistband of his boxers, asking one last time if he was sure. When I got his permission, I pulled them down to reveal himself to me, and my god was he beautiful. The tip was red and leaking precum, and I used my thumb to gather some and bring it to my mouth. Spencer’s jaw went slack again, watching me suck his cum off my digit and not taking my eyes off his own. I shifted once again to hover over him, pulling my panties to the side.

“Are you ready?” I asked, grabbing his hard cock and readying the tip to my entrance. He attempted to buck his hips up and enter me, but I continued to tease him by rubbing my wetness over him without entering just yet.

“Yes. Please, Mommy.” I sunk down, reveling in the way his eyes grew wide and his hands shot up to grab onto any part of me. Slowly, I inched down, feeling the stretch he provided and we both were moaning at the feeling.

“Is this okay?” I asked once more, getting a nod and a gasp at the feeling of me around him in return. His hips were trying to buck up into me, but I wouldn’t let him, lifting up slowly and slamming back down to the hilt.

“Oh my god,” he praised once again, screwing his eyes shut and panting. I picked up a rhythm bouncing on his cock with feaverish intent, neither of us were going to last long, both of us hypersensitive to each other.

Spencer opened his eyes, and couldn’t find where to look. He started with my breasts bouncing in his face with my increased speed, and moved on to where our bodies met, watching himself disappear into me. Lastly, he stopped at my face, finding me already staring down at him with my mouth agape and mewls escaping me.

From there we gazed into each other’s eyes, Spencer not holding back any of his sweet moans and gasps that sounded like garbled versions of my name. The knot in my stomach tightened further when I shifted slightly and felt his tip graze my sweet spot. He must have been close to, his hips thrusting up softly to meet my own in an attempt to chase his high. I reached down to rub my clit, wanting to fall off the edge together.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” he panted out, and I clenched around him at the sound of him whimpering. “Ah- ah ah, Mommy please!”

I increased the pressure on my clit, the coil in my stomach reaching its end when I shouted “Cum with me, pretty boy.”

Spencer’s hands gripped onto my waist with bruising pressure as we reached our highs together, crashing down with a shout of each other’s name as I felt his cum cover my pulsing walls. The feeling was indescribable, extending my orgasm and milking him for everything he has.

I slumped forward, resting my head against his sweaty shoulder as we attempted to catch our breaths. Spencer’s arms wrapped around me fully, pulling me closer to him and nuzzling his face into my neck, the sentiment making me smile.

“Are you okay?” I asked once our breathing returned to normal and the cloudiness of my post organsm brain melted. He just pulled me impossibly closer, laying kisses on the expanse of my neck he could reach.

“I’m more than okay. That was- that was-”

“Yeah, I know.” I giggled at his awestruck tone, mimicking his movements and nuzzling deep in his neck, breathing in his sweet scent.

Like I said, Spencer Reid was a special kind of man.

___

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[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 06

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.4k [6/6]

notes: we’ve reached the end at last!!! thanks for sticking around through all the sporadic updates, and i hope you enjoy this final chapter!

warnings: some soft, soft smut.

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

The day before your scheduled return to Seoul, your parents decide to throw a joint party with the Jeons. From your bedroom window, you can see the plastic tables and chairs scattered across your adjoining lawns, the tarps and poles that will soon become makeshift pavilions lying in the grass. Though a row of low bushes divides your property, a small stone footpath weaves between the green leaves. You watch Mr. Jeon make his way into your yard, joining your father to unfurl a sign that’s emblazoned with Bon Voyage, {Name}! in bright blue print.

“Noona!” Jimin bursts into your bedroom with zero preamble, the door slamming into the wall behind it. You jump at the sudden intrusion, and flinch when he bounds across the room in two steps and grabs you by the shoulders.

“Ow, Chim,” you grumble, trying and failing to push him away. “Knock much?”

“Help,” he whines, trying to pull you to your feet. “I put too much salt in the marinade, and I just spilled Coke all over the counter. Please come help me.”

You sigh as he casts you the most pathetic look he’s capable of mustering, complete with a quivering bottom lip. Wiggling out of his iron grip at last, you grab him by the wrist and drag him out of your room. “Fine,” you tell him as you pull him downstairs. “You’re lucky I like you sometimes.”

“Love you too!” Jimin singsongs. He swoops in to plant a too-wet kiss on your cheek, and when you squirm in disgust he just giggles and blows you another.

The kitchen, upon your arrival, is empty. “Where’s Mom?” you ask as you grab a rag, tossing it over to your brother so he can clean up the spilled soda.

“She left a few minutes ago,” he replies, sopping up the mess and flinching when some splashes down from the counter onto the linoleum floor. “I think she went to the store to pick up a few things.”

“Food things?” you ask dubiously, eyeing the sizable pile of vegetables and meat on the counter. “Is this not enough? Is the entire neighborhood invited to this thing?”

“You know Mom,” he replies, shrugging. “Just let her have this. She misses having another girl in the house when you’re away. Says Dad and I gang up on her.”

You chuckle. “That sounds about right. On the bright side, though, she only has to deal with you for a few more months.”

“Jeez, that’s weird to think about.” Jimin sidles up behind you and settles his chin on your shoulder. “We’re going to be at the same university soon.”

“Yeah, because you’re a little copycat,” you tease, reaching back to flick him on the forehead. “What’s next? Are you going to start following me around the sandbox again? Come crying to me when someone’s mean to you?”

“Yeah, right.” Jimin steps back and puffs his chest out dramatically. “I’m going to protect you from all those weird college guys, remember? Who else is gonna do it if not me?”

In an instant, your mind goes to Jungkook. Your throat goes dry, and thankfully the jingle of keys in the front door saves you from needing to respond. Jimin’s attention is diverted when your mother steps through with an armful of shopping bags, and you take a moment to shove away all thoughts of your neighbor before following after your brother to help her unpack.

You haven’t seen much of Jungkook since your impromptu sleepover in his room. As your time at home winds to a close, your parents have been increasingly adamant to spend as much time together as possible. Family game nights became routine, and although Jungkook has joined you on a couple occasions, Jimin has seemingly made it his personal goal to ensure that you don’t spend a single second alone with your dark-haired neighbor. Certainly, you’ve texted a bit, but Jungkook’s been picking up more shifts at the restaurant lately and you often see him through your bedroom window returning home after a long dinner shift.

Jimin’s voice draws you out of your thoughts. “Huh?” you ask, blinking, and your brother shoots you an unimpressed look.

“I said, I’m going out back to help Dad with the grill,” he repeats. “Can you bring the cooler out?”

“Oh!” You glance over at the cooler on the ground, filled to the brim with beer and soda. Jimin has a bag of ice in his arms, and you quickly follow him out into the backyard, wheeling the cooler behind you. Together, the two of you push it into an unobtrusive corner of the back porch, and Jimin curses when he upends the bag of ice into it and spills nearly a third in the process.

“Smooth,” you remark.

“Like you could do any better,” is his reply.

It’s just after one o’clock, the sun beaming bright in the cloudless blue sky, when people begin trickling into the backyard where your father and Mr. Jeon have started grilling. You spot Taemin and Minho from where you’re perched on the porch steps, and grin when they wave and begin heading in your direction.

“Heading back to the big city so soon?” Minho asks as he comes to a stop, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re gonna miss you around here.”

“You know you’re always welcome to visit,” you tell him with a smile. “Besides, I’ll be back. I do like to see my family every now and then, you know.”

“When exactly are you leaving tomorrow? Taemin asks curiously.

“Bright and early in the morning,” you reply. “I want to have plenty of time to get settled before I start interning on Monday.”

Minho gives you a squeeze. “You’ll kill it. I know you will.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. You’re about to say more—ask about the rest of their summer plans, maybe—when you spot a familiar dark head of hair exiting the back door of the Jeons’ house. Jungkook is wearing a collared shirt the color of sunshine, the sleeves rolled to his elbows to expose vascular forearms and the silver watch on his wrist. His faded jeans have a rip in the left knee, and you swallow when your gaze automatically trails down to the defined muscle of his thigh, a peek of skin visible through the denim.

Across the yard, your eyes meet. He raises a hand in greeting, his watch glinting in the sun, and you wave back. Everything else seems to fade into the background—Taemin and Minho, the hubbub of the partygoers, even the sizzle of the grill. Jungkook is walking in your direction now, and your throat goes oddly dry at the thought of talking to him face-to-face after nearly a week of intermittent texts and occasional glimpses. Your fingers itch to run through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and your body craves the feeling of his skin against your own. You’d even settle for a simple kiss—the press of his mouth and the slick of his tongue, his palms settling on your hips or looping around to the small of your back to pull you in close.

Needless to say, it’s been far too long since you and Jungkook last slept together. You wonder, vaguely, if there’s any way the two of you might be able to sneak away from the party and head somewhere a little quieter. One last handsy makeout session in his backseat, and one last chance for him to breach your walls with his cock. One last fix of the drug called Jungkook, before you return to your life in Seoul and try to forget the boundaries you’ve crossed in the last few weeks.

Because at the end of the day, Jungkook is your brother’s best friend, and therefore is off-limits. And as if Jimin himself is listening in on your thoughts, your little brother comes bounding out of nowhere, intercepting Jungkook on his path to you and dragging him away to help make more meat skewers for the grill.

The party continues. More people arrive, and you do your best to converse with everyone between bites of food. Many family friends have come out to wish you well, most of whom you haven’t seen in several years, so you put on your best smile and weather the innumerable comments about how much you’ve grown up since you last met. Off in the distance, you spot Jungkook chatting with Junghyun, who has driven in from downtown Busan. The elder Jeon brother has already wished you good luck with your internship, pulling you into a friendly hug when he first arrived, and you would’ve had to be blind to miss Jungkook’s penetrating stare as you hugged him back.

You’re returning from a bathroom break, easing the back door shut, when you are assailed by a tangle of limbs and excited cries. You end up with a faceful of strawberry blonde hair, and laughingly groan as you extricate yourself from the hug, offering a beaming Chaeyoung, Jisoo, and Lisa a grin. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Lisa grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a little shake. “You’re leaving tomorrow! When will you be back again?”

“Winter, definitely,” you promise. “Maybe the summer too, if I don’t have anything else going on.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook again. He’s looking in your direction, his gaze flitting between the half-eaten burger in his hand and where you’re standing on the back porch with the girls, as if he doesn’t want to get caught staring. The party has been underway for nearly two hours now, and you haven’t even come close to having a conversation with your dark-haired neighbor. It seems as though anytime Jungkook comes within speaking distance, he’s interrupted by friends, family, and at one point, even his family’s dog. Gureum has been a part of Jungkook’s family for as long as you can remember, and though he’s getting rather old, he’s still happily meandering around the yard today. You’ve already given in to his pleading face twice and offered him a bit of food from your plate, and you’ve watched plenty of others do the same. A quick scan of the yard reveals that the little white dog is now fast asleep in a sunny patch of grass, and you chuckle to yourself before your gaze finds Jungkook again. Your eyes meet, just for a second.

“{Name}, honey, can you come here for a second?”

You turn at the sound of your mother’s voice. “Sure,” you tell her, excusing yourself from the group of girls to follow her inside to the kitchen. “What is it?”

Your mom hands you a pile of small paper plates and plastic cutlery. “I’m bringing out the cake,” she says. “Can you put those out for me?”

You nod, watching as she picks up the cake. It’s an impressive two-tiered confection, frosted pale purple and decorated with pink cherry blossoms and the words Bon Voyage! in flowing white script. You make sure to hold the door open for your mother as she exits the house on your heels, and duck your head in embarrassment when a few of your neighbors start clapping at your arrival.

The cake is cut and distributed, and you take your piece over to a shady spot beneath the awning of one of the pavilions your father has assembled. Jimin joins you, wiping a frosting-covered finger on your nose, and you squeal and wipe at it furiously with a napkin before taking revenge. Slowly, the afternoon progresses into early evening, and the party begins to wind to a close. Friends and neighbors begin to trickle out, wishing you well before taking their leave. At the far end of the yard, you see Jungkook talking to Chaeyoung, and wonder what the two could possibly have to say to each other before Taemin and Minho draw your attention away.

“We gotta head out,” Minho says, coming to a stop before you and pulling you into a hug.

Taemin nods, tugging you into an embrace as well. “We’ll see you again soon though, yeah? We’re definitely going to come up to visit you guys at some point.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you tell him. “You’re crashing at Jimin and Jungkook’s though. I’m not taking you in.”

“Cruel, but fair,” Minho says with a laugh. “See ya then, Noona.”

“See you.”

The two depart, and you begin gathering up your used utensils and plates, seeking about for a trash can. You smile at your dad as he walks by, and scratch a sleepy Gureum behind the ears as you pass him. Just as you’ve finally found a trash can and dropped your garbage inside, however, a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Hey, Noona.”

Your heartbeat quickens. Slowly, you turn around, coming face to face with none other than Jungkook himself. His dark hair is ruffled by the breeze, and his silver hoop earrings glint in the late afternoon sun. Tentatively, you offer him a small smile, and he hesitates for a moment before smiling back.

“Hey.”

“You said that already,” you point out, trying to quell the sudden nervousness in your belly and swallowing down whatever moisture is left in your mouth. “Fun party, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods. “Really fun. And the food was great.”

You chuckle. “Yeah. We have our dads to thank for that.”

“Definitely.”

A beat of silence passes, and then two. Jungkook is scuffing his heel against the grass, one hand darting up to scratch his ear, and you are just beginning to wonder at his uncharacteristic awkwardness when he suddenly pulls a bag from behind his back.

“Here,” he says, practically shoving it into your hands. “I—I mean, we—got you a gift. From my family. And me.”

Blinking, you peer down at the green tissue paper peeking out of the top of the bag. “Oh, wow. You… you guys really shouldn’t have.”

“It was my mom’s idea,” Jungkook mumbles, looking anywhere but at you. “You can open it now if you want, though.”

You do. Peeling back the tissue paper reveals two items inside—one of which is a lovely leather-bound planner, complete with a calendar and to-do lists and pages for notes. The other is a small canvas, and your mouth falls open when you see what’s painted across the surface.

It’s the lake house. Behind it, you can see lush green hills and trees, all bordering the rippling expanse of blue water. Jungkook has captured the scene at high noon when the sun is at its peak in the sky, glinting off the lake like diamonds. Off to one side, you spot the canoe roped to the dock.

“Wow,” you breathe, awestruck. “Jungkook, this is beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s no big deal,” he says, shrugging and scratching the back of his neck. “I had to rush it a little, between work and all. It could’ve been better.”

“It’s perfect,” you tell him, running a fingertip across the canvas. You’ve always known that Jungkook has a talent for drawing, but you’ve never seen him use paint as his medium of choice until now. “Really. I love it, Jungkook. I’m going to hang it up in my dorm as soon as I get back.”

“Back,” Jungkook echoes. “Right.”

And before you can reply—before you can even inhale to speak—he’s pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms looping around your waist and settling there.

“Good luck with everything,” he says once he’s pulled back. And then he’s turning on his heel and walking away, and you’re left to wonder whether these past few weeks were simply a passing tryst after all.

///

As it turns out, your internship is more than enough to keep your mind from straying toward a certain dark-haired young man. Two months after Jungkook left you high and dry, you’re working harder than you ever have in your life. Your mornings are early and your afternoons run into evenings more often than not. “At least you’re getting paid, though,” Namjoon points out, glancing up from where he’s sitting on the couch when you stumble into your shared dorm one particularly late night. “You could’ve been one of the unlucky bastards who got stuck doing unpaid labor at their internships.”

“Oh, good. At least they’re working me to the bone ethically,” you snort, accepting the wine he hands over. Trust Namjoon to have an extra glass at the ready. Your suitemate, despite his flaws, always seems to know when you need a pick-me-up, and you suppose you can forgive his clumsiness and messiness for that. If he keeps it up, you may even start looking past the heart attacks he causes you every time he enters the kitchen and so much as looks at a knife.

Namjoon chuckles and tops off his own wineglass. “So now what? You hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit. “What are you thinking tonight? Pizza? Chinese?”

“Thai? I’ve been craving it lately.”

“I can do Thai.” You lean in closer as he pulls up the delivery menu on his laptop, pointing to what you want before sitting back and letting him place the order. “Can you get me an iced tea, too?

“Two iced teas, coming right up,” he replies. “You wanna start thinking about tonight’s feature presentation?”

Flopping onto your side, you reach into the bag you dropped on the floor and fish out your own laptop. You select a film from Netflix as Namjoon fetches his wallet to pay for your food, and the two of you settle in to wait as the opening credits of Disney’s Hercules roll.

“I’m not a good singer,” Namjoon cautions as the Muses begin their introductory monologue. “I just want you to know that beforehand. But out of all the Disney films? This soundtrack is unmatched.”

“Damn right,” you reply, clinking your glass against his. “Best soundtrack ever. We’ll both sound like dying cats, and I for one can’t wait.”

Namjoon laughs and leans over to flick off the lights. The room goes dark and the music begins, and you’re both singing along before you even hit the chorus. Spending time with Namjoon is comfortable, and though you’ve already lived together through the entirety of your first year of school, these past two summer months have strengthened your friendship tenfold. He’s almost like a brother by this point, and you wonder, vaguely, whether Jimin would get along with him anywhere near as well as you do.

As if summoned, your phone goes off. Jimin’s name lights up your screen, and you frown curiously at it before unlocking the device and swiping open the message.

[7:56pm] Chimchim: miss me yet? 😚

[7:56pm] You: no way, weirdo

[7:57pm] You: what do you even want anyway? sure you’re not the one missing me?

Immediately, your phone buzzes with a response.

[7:57pm] Chimchim: seriously? offensive

[7:57pm} Chimchim: orientation’s in less than a week or have u forgotten already?? good thing i’m reminding u

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you realize that you had, in fact, forgotten. You remember your own college orientation vividly—a jam-packed weekend filled with building tours and ample opportunities to talk to current students. Several of your friends, you’d first met that weekend as you all tried to navigate a new chapter of your lives—Namjoon included. It’s how the two of you ended up living together—jammed into a suite with two others who thankfully meshed perfectly with the both of you. Neither Hoseok nor Jennie are here for the summer, but you’ve kept in touch while apart. Both of them poke relentless fun at Namjoon for opting to take summer classes, and you never hesitate to join in on the lighthearted teasing.

[7:58pm] You: oh yeah lol

Your response is casual and calm, but your heart rate is anything but. Jimin coming to orientation means Jungkook is coming too, and the thought of seeing him sends an anxious flurry of butterflies aflight in your stomach. You remember texting him the day after you came back—just a simple photo of his painting, hung proudly on the wall above your desk. He responded with a string of thumbs-up emojis, and that had been that. You’ve barely heard a word from him since, and Jimin’s occasional texts and social media posts are the only reason you know he’s still alive. Hesitantly, you type out another message, thumb hovering briefly over the send button before hitting it.

[7:58pm] You: you and jungkook are driving up, right?

[7:59pm] Chimchim: yep! road trip

[7:59pm] Chimchim: still not convinced jk’s car will make it all the way tho lmao

You think back to Jungkook’s beat-up sedan with its sputtering engine and scratchy seats, and the ominous way the passenger side window sometimes rattled if you slammed the door too hard. Can’t blame you for having doubts, you write back, earning yourself a hearty LMAOOO in response. And then:

[8:01pm] Chimchim: i’ll probably have to do most of the driving anyway

You frown, brows furrowing. Why’s that?

[8:02pm] Chimchim: just a hunch. jk’s been weird lately

[8:02pm] You: …weird how?

[8:02pm] Chimchim: just weird. a little distracted, maybe? he doesn’t answer me when i ask him whats wrong

[8:03pm] You: how long has he been weird?

[8:03pm} Chimchim: idk 🤷‍♂️

[8:03pm] Chimchim: 2 days, maybe 3? i think he might be worried about orientation or college or something. either way i don’t trust him to operate a motor vehicle rn

Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth as you consider your brother’s revelation. It’s perfectly natural to be nervous about something new, but you still can’t help but wonder if Jungkook’s strange behavior might have anything to do with seeing you again. But before you can dwell on it more, your phone buzzes again in your palm.

[8:04pm] Chimchim: i mean srsly he didn’t even hit on mina when we ran into her at jin’s the other day. do u remember her? the girl from the bbq place we went to for grad dinner??

[8:04pm] Chimchim: but on the bright side, it looks like he and chae made up. about time, tbh. things were really awkward for a while

[8:05pm] Chimchim: wait u knew about them, right? they dated for a while?

You take a deep breath before responding, the gears of your brain whirring as you fight to process all of the information he’s dumped on you. Yeah, you write back. Chae told me. They’re okay now?

[8:06pm] Chimchim: yeah. i think they talked at your going away thing

The memory of them chatting in your parents’ backyard resurfaces, and a rush of relief follows it. Even though your conversation with Chaeyoung at the mall confirmed that she was no longer angry with Jungkook, the guilt of sneaking around with him continued to linger in the back of your mind. You’re definitely going to buy her a box of cookies from Kim’s Kitchen as an apology the next time you see her. Maybe even two.

After a few more texts, your conversation with Jimin peters out. He signs off, citing a house party he has to start getting ready for, and you settle back in to watch the rest of the movie with Namjoon, smiling reassuringly when he shoots you a curious look and mouths, everything okay?

Everything is okay, you decide. Jungkook’s weird behavior isn’t your problem, and there’s not a whole lot you could do even if you wanted to, considering how little you’ve spoken in the last eight weeks. That doesn’t stop you from opening up your messages and scrolling down to Jungkook’s name, though. It doesn’t stop you from opening up the last conversation you had—something about a particularly annoying customer at Jin’s restaurant—and scrutinizing every word.

Later that night, just as you’re brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes again. The name attached to the text immediately sends your heart into your throat, and you shakily towel off your hands before swiping it open.

[12:25am] Jungkook: i mis s yuo.

Drunk, the little voice in your brain whispers. He’s drunk. Belatedly, you remember the party Jimin had mentioned, and realize that Jungkook must be there as well. Alcohol has clearly loosened him up, enough to instigate this unexpected sentiment, but you are painfully sober. At a loss, you stare at his message until your screen goes dark. Irritably, you wake it up again, unlocking the phone so you can stare some more, and after what feels like an eternity, you type out a response.

[12: 28am] You: drink some water, jungkook

He doesn’t respond. You wait for five minutes, and then ten, but your phone screen remains obstinately dark and devoid of new notifications. Climbing into bed, you check one last time, but there’s still no response from him.

A resigned sigh leaves your lips as you turn off your bedside lamp and plug in your phone to charge. Sinking down into the mattress, you push away all thoughts of Jeon Jungkook as you close your eyes and wait for sleep to come.

///

On Friday night, you once again find yourself working late. Thankfully, Jimin and Jungkook aren’t due to arrive until later in the evening, so you still have plenty of time to change into comfier clothes and eat something before you have to play host.

Or at least, that’s what you thought. When you swing open the front door of your home, however, you’re greeted by two extra pairs of shoes—one of which is a certain individual’s signature black Timberlands, scuffed and worn from years of use. “Joonie?” you call cautiously, toeing off your loafers and skirting around the corner to poke your head into the kitchen. “Are you home?”

No reply. You wander a little further, entering the living room, and that’s where you’re greeted by the sight of your suitemate, his sheepish grin flanked on either side by two very familiar faces.

“Noona!” Jimin is grinning from ear to ear, and immediately skips forward to smoosh your cheeks between his palms. “We got here early!”

You slap his hands away and poke your fingertips into his ribs. “I can see that,” you retort. “What I don’t get is why you didn't bother to tell me.”

Jimin shrugs. “Surprise?”

You sigh and turn instead to Namjoon, who’s watching your exchange with an amused smile. “Thanks for getting them settled in,” you tell him gratefully. “You should’ve called me, though. I would’ve tried to get off work early if I’d known.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Namjoon waves you off. “They got here about half an hour ago, so it wouldn’t have made much difference, anyway.”

“Still, let me thank you,” you insist. “Dinner’s on me tonight, since I have to feed these heathens anyway. Do you want to order something in? Go out?”

“I’m okay either way,” Namjoon says, shrugging, and you turn to Jimin and Jungkook questioningly.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Jimin says. “I think we’re both pretty tired from the drive, so staying in might be nice.”

“Anything’s fine.” Jungkook is staring down at his right hand as if he’s trying to crack a secret code etched in his fingerprints, and when he speaks, his voice is soft. “Whatever you want, Noona.”

You haven’t forgotten about his text from a few days ago, and judging by the way he can’t even look you in the eye, neither has he. It’s strange seeing him here now—wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt like he so often does, his feet encapsulated in plain white socks. His hair has grown out since you last saw him, leaving only the barest glimpse of his silver earrings visible beneath the dark, shaggy locks. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to run your fingers through it, but quickly quash that train of thought before it can progress any further.

The group eventually settles on ordering pizza, which you order and pay for on your phone. Conversation flows easily as Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon get to know each other, and when the food arrives, Namjoon pulls out his collection of board games. The remainder of the evening passes in a haze of pizza and game tournaments, and it’s only when midnight has come and gone that you decide to call it a night. Jungkook and Jimin settle into the two empty bedrooms—Jungkook in Hoseok’s and Jimin in Jennie’s—and you bid everyone goodnight before retiring to your own bed.

You don’t miss the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on your retreating figure, but he doesn’t say anything and neither do you. He’ll be busy with all the orientation events scheduled tomorrow, and you’re planning to spend a good chunk of the day running errands that you don’t have time for on weekdays. The question of why he’d texted you that night remains on your mind, but you don’t want to ask. And you especially don’t want to ask why he’d never responded after that first message. Confrontation has never been your style, and with any luck, you’ll be able to avoid spending extended periods of time with him altogether.

With any luck, this weekend will pass with no further incident, and you’ll be able to spend the remaining few weeks of your summer in peace.

///

It’s just after two o’clock in the afternoon when you return to your dormitory, a grocery bag clutched in each hand and a tote bag draped over one shoulder. You’ve finished up with all your errands for the day, and even managed to get some reading done for one of your upcoming fall classes. Dropping your bags in the kitchen, you stretch your arms overhead lazily before starting to unpack your groceries. Namjoon is holed up in the library working on an essay, and Jimin and Jungkook don’t appear to be around either. A moment of rare quiet is welcome in your normally hectic life, and you take the opportunity to put some music on and change into your comfiest shorts and a tank top.

You’ve just finished popping some popcorn and are settling onto your bed to watch some Netflix when someone clears their throat from your doorway. Startled, you look up, your eyes locking on Jungkook standing there. He’s wearing a loose gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, and you swallow when you see the way he’s rolled up the sleeves to expose vascular forearms and the silver watch on his wrist. Jungkook blinks at you silently from behind his dark fringe of hair, and a beat passes before he clears his throat and speaks.

“Hey.”

You straighten up into a seated position, crossing your legs and plopping the bowl of popcorn in your lap. “Hi.”

Jungkook hesitates, then shoves both hands into his pockets. “Can… can we talk?”

“Sure.” You incline your head. “Talk.”

Your curt tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him. Awkwardly, he shuffles his feet for a moment before scratching behind his neck and ruffling his already tousled hair further. “My phone died,” he says, and you blink confusedly at him, twice, before responding.

“What?”

Jungkook winces but presses on nonetheless. “My phone,” he explains. “It died the other night. I was going to charge it before the party, but I forgot to plug it in and then it was too late. I didn’t—” He sighs. “I would’ve texted you back, otherwise.”

Belatedly, you realize he’s talking about his text from a few nights ago and why he never responded. His reasoning is relatively sound, at least, but you still have an unanswered question. “Why?” you ask, your voice soft. “Why did you text me that night? I don’t hear from you for weeks, and then you message me that out of the blue? Why?”

“Fuck, I know.” Jungkook takes two steps into your bedroom, before he seemingly thinks better of it and takes a step back. “I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve texted you more, or earlier, but—” Another sigh, and this time he rakes his hands through his hair and sends his dangling earrings tinkling. “I’m sorry. I really am. I was being a coward, and…”

Jungkook trails off, and you see that his attention has flitted elsewhere. He’s staring at the painting of the lake house, still displayed prominently above your desk, and you see the gears in his head whirring before he speaks again.

“You… you still have that hanging up there?”

You glance at the painting before looking back at him. “Well, yeah. Of course I do. It reminds me of home.”

It reminds you of him, too, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud. Instead you turn your attention back to your increasingly fidgety companion, leaning back on your hands and regarding him with your head tilted curiously.

“What were you saying about being a coward? What are you afraid of, Jungkook?”

Jungkook rubs his jaw and sucks in a deep breath. “You,” he finally answers, after several beats that feel like several lifetimes. “I’m afraid of losing you. And I feel like I already might have, especially since we left things so weird at the party. I should’ve…” He shakes his head. ”I should’ve said something sooner. I should’ve told you how I really feel, but I was stupid and scared and I just couldn’t find the right time to do it.”

Your breath catches. Your mouth goes dry and your chest feels tight, and when you try to speak, your tongue feels like sandpaper. “I—” you begin, and it’s all you manage to get out. Jungkook is murmuring your name in a voice so gentle that your heart skips two whole beats, and when you look at him again he is much, much closer than before.

“But I guess late is better than never, right?” Jungkook breathes. Stopping at the edge of your bed, he drops to his knees, and you don’t protest when he takes your hands and cups them protectively between his own. “It’s you, {Name}. It’s always been you. I tried to forget about my feelings when you left for Seoul—tried to convince myself that it was just a stupid crush—but nothing I did worked. I couldn’t forget about you. And then you came back, and I just knew.” Gently, he traces a fingertip across your knuckles before looking up and meeting your gaze in earnest. “I’m in love with you, {Name}. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. And… and I really hope that I haven’t fucked everything up by telling you this now.”

“You—” Your voice sticks in your throat, and you swallow thickly before trying again. “You haven’t. I… I like you, Jungkook. I like you so, so much, and I think I owe you an apology for trying to push you away so much. It’s just that these feelings… they’re so new. And I—well, I don’t know if I love you yet, but I think that I definitely could.”

“Then that’s good enough for me,” he replies, his face stretching into a wide, crinkly eyed grin. “As long as you agree to be my girlfriend, and let me have the chance to make you fall for me.” And when you nod, giggling, Jungkook leans in and presses his mouth to yours.

The kiss is soft and sweet, and lasts several moments before a sobering thought enters your head. You break away, frowning, and Jungkook’s brow furrows as he takes in your expression.

“What’s wrong?”

You bite your lip, worrying at the delicate skin. “This… thing. This relationship—what if it doesn’t work? I mean, god, you’re Jimin’s best friend in the entire world. What if we have an argument? What if—what if we break up?”

“We won’t,” Jungkook replies confidently, lacing his fingers with yours before leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against yours affectionately. Instinct has you leaning into him, seeking out proper contact, and you feel his lips curl into a smile as he indulges you with yet another kiss.

“You can’t know that for sure,” you murmur when you break apart, but your voice is readily lost in the huff of laughter that escapes your companion.

“Maybe not for sure,” he says. “But I’ve loved you since I was about eight, and I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon.”

This time, when your lips meet, there’s a bit more heat behind it. Jungkook curls a hand around your nape to draw you in close, and licks sweetly into your mouth when you part for him. He’s quick to press you down onto your mattress, and you sigh as he trails down your body and takes the straps of your tank top with him. The material falls off your shoulders, leaving just enough room to tug the rest of the shirt down to your waist, and he groans when your bare breasts are freed.

“No bra? Fuck, you’re killing me.”

You arch beneath him, huffing out a breathless little laugh when he seizes the opportunity to envelop a nipple into his mouth. His fingers find the other—squeezing and rubbing and tweaking until you’re quivering in his grasp. “Jungkook,” you breathe, waiting until he lets out a soft hum of acknowledgment. “Jimin—he could come back any minute. Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now.”

Jungkook glances up from where he’s exploring the underside of your breasts, tracing the soft swell of delicate skin with his lips and tongue. “Jimin,” he says, “is at a special session for his major. He won’t be back for hours, so why don’t you relax and let me make you feel good, hmm?”

And, without even waiting for an answer, he drops down to his knees and digs his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts. Your legs are dangling off the edge of the bed, and Jungkook easily tugs the material off them, taking your panties right along with it. Tossing them aside, he doesn’t hesitate to spread your legs and slot himself into the newly created space. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, and your breath hitches when you glance down the length of your body and see the ravenous glint in his eyes.

There’s no doubt in your mind that you’re wet enough to take his cock right now. You can feel the slick gathering between your legs, and the smirk on Jungkook’s face tells you that he’s noticed it too. Teasingly, he presses an experimental fingertip to your clit, watching in satisfaction as your hips buck off the mattress at the flare of pleasure. Then he’s sliding down, sinking a lone finger into your entrance and curling upward to find the soft spot that he knows will unravel you in a matter of minutes. A gasp escapes you when he finds it, your hips rising again, and he soothes you with a warm palm on your thigh and a sweet kiss to your hipbone.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly Jungkook is able to build up your orgasm, but then again, you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always been a quick study, and you’ve never been sure whether it’s stubbornness or determination that drives him to excel at his passions. Here and now, with two of his fingers buried inside your cunt and a third teasing its way in, you don’t even care which it is. All that matters is the pressure building in the pit of your belly, and the way Jungkook keeps murmuring your name and encouraging you to cum for me, princess. It’s enough to push you over the edge, your back arching off the bed and your lips parting in a moan as you ride out your high.

“So pretty.” Jungkook circles your clit with his thumb, his fingers still sheathed within your walls. “You always take my fingers so well.”

“Think I’d rather take your cock instead,” you reply breathlessly, sagging back against the mattress and reaching for him. Jungkook takes the hint, gritting out a hoarse curse before crawling up your mostly bare body and crushing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. You grab the hem of his gray sweatshirt, pulling it up and over his head, and are more than pleased to discover he’s not wearing anything underneath. His sweatpants soon follow, Jungkook impatiently kicking the material off his ankles, and you sigh out his name when he wraps you in his arms, skin against skin.

“I’m not going to last very long,” he warns you, his breath a puff of hot air against the shell of your ear. “Promise I’ll make it up to you later. Just wanna feel you right now.”

“Go on, then,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “How do you want me?”

Jungkook groans, no doubt having a furious internal debate with himself, before reaching down and taking his cock in one hand. “Just like this,” he decides, gazing down at the way you’re spread out on your back for him. Deliberately, he settles between your thighs, giving himself a few pumps before positioning himself at your entrance. “Wanna kiss you while I fuck you. Wanna kiss you for the rest of my life.”

He’s pushing forward then, stealing the breath from your lungs along with any thoughts that may have crossed your mind at his last sentiment. Jungkook sinks into you until you’re gasping at the fullness, his hands grabbing at the meat of your hips and pulling you against him with every thrust. He fucks into you with reckless abandon, hoarse praise and gritted curses falling freely from his lips as he uses your body to seek out his own high. Every now and then, his mouth seeks out yours in a sloppy kiss, which you happily indulge as his rhythm falters and becomes increasingly erratic.

Jungkook floods you with his warmth, his arms gathering you up tightly as his cock slowly softens within you. His lips find yours, and this kiss is a simple, tender one—an affectionate press and a crinkly eyed smile that has you automatically smiling back.

“I don’t know why you’re so happy,” you tease, poking him in his slightly sweaty chest. “Jimin’s going to throttle you for this, you know.”

“Worth it,” he replies cheekily. “Anything’s worth it as long as you kiss me better afterward.”

“Gross,” you tell him, laughing. “You’re so lame.”

“But you still like me,” he says with a shrug. Then he grins. “The real question, though, is whether you like me enough to help me move in the fall.”

You hum, hiding your smile. “Depends. What’s in it for me?”

A positively wicked grin spreads across his face and settles there. “Why don’t I give you a preview?”

///

A few weeks later -

Jimin hums softly under his breath as he strolls into his new dorm, a cardboard box cradled in his arms. There’s a growing pile of boxes in the middle of the living area already, and he’s only just found an empty spot to drop the latest when he hears an odd noise coming from the bathroom. A wet, smacking sound, kind of like—

“Jungkook, you dog,” he snorts, throwing the cracked door open. “Get your ass out here and help me unpa—“ He stops in his tracks.

The scene before him doesn’t make sense. Jungkook is standing in front of him with wide eyes and fear in his expression, but that doesn’t make sense. At least it doesn’t until he sees you in the reflection of the mirror over the sink, your clothes disheveled and your lips swollen.

“Wait, we can explain,” Jungkook begins, following the trajectory of Jimin’s gaze and waving his hands in a fluttery panic. “I swear, Jimin, it’s not what you think—“

“That’s my sister,” Jimin says, his voice dangerously calm.

“Yeah, but—”

“You put your hands on my sister,” Jimin continues matter-of-factly, as if Jungkook hadn’t spoken at all. “I’m going to fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”

And before you can catch your breath and open your mouth to stop him, Jimin leaps forward, his fingers aimed directly for Jungkook’s throat.

[windblooms]

childe scenario – foul legacy

childe x gender-neutral reader.  angst and nsfw/smut.  2.4k words.  canon divergence: reader is in place of the traveler plus other plot points. warnings: rough/unprotected sex, choking, biting, overstim. 

when you arrived in liyue harbor, childe didn’t have to ask for your name because he already knew it – the mondstadtian fatui had told him as much.  he only had to ask for your purpose in the city.  “to find somewhere to belong,” you had replied. 

as if either of you thought that you could make a home out of each other.

time had snapped by in an instant despite the weeks you two had spent together.  he couldn’t ever fully drop that harbinger pretense that you knew was a facade, and neither of you could walk the streets of liyue as sincere companions.  that time when you both stood atop mt. tianheng and looked out towards the guyun stone forest in the horizon was a sham; there was no sense of honesty, of trust.  atop that hill, on a bright autumn morning, you were trembling.  

he couldn’t bring himself to admit that it was because of him at the time.

but now, he can’t afford to be considerate of what you two had tried to become.  he doesn’t want to think about it.  it hurts even more when he looks into your eyes –

– and down at your neck, clutched in his fingers, and your hands that hopelessly rake at his wrist.

don’t give me that look, he wants to say, but his mouth doesn’t move.  you knew it would come to this.

your breaths are ragged under his grasp.  suspended in the air, you don’t have the energy to kick at him, exhausted from your earlier duel.  your sword had been shattered in the brutal exchange, and its remains lay discarded underneath the rubble of the golden house.

he can feel your pulse underneath his claws.  it’s erratic, pounding in time with your gasps.  your experiences in teyvat had taught you much and honed you into a warrior – an honorary knight.  but the pitiful state you’re in now betrays your fragility.

your nails do nothing against the skin of his foul legacy. you choke out his name, as if beseeching – “childe,” – begging for any sense of sympathy.  but you shouldn’t rely on his sentimentality: the monster you’re pleading to has always had the insatiable craving to bring his opponents to their knees, and you cannot be the exception. 

but, oh so badly, he wishes you were.

“you shouldn’t be thinking like that,” he chides, withered at your misplaced determination.  his voice isn’t quite his own; memories of better days are bitter on his tongue.  “you’re wasting what you have left.”

sentencing himself to further oblivion, he hurls you to the floor with the flick of his wrist, and your back arches as you hit the pavement.  he sees the breath leave your lungs, and as you convulse on the ground, his daggers have already materialized in his claws.

you do what you can to get away from his approaching form, practically crawling to put any semblance of distance between yourself and your doom.  but you’re weaponless, weak, and out of options; you can only last like this for so long.

your mouth opens, but he’s on you before you can get a sound out.  childe pins your body underneath his, settling himself on your torso with his thighs on either side of your hips.  a hydro dagger embeds itself on the tile besides your head, and as he leans over your spent body, all you see staring down at you is a pearl of ice.

“g–get off,” your plea is even weaker under the shadow of his figure.  he feels your hands shoving – no, pressing – against his shoulders, but they fall as soon as he sinks more of his weight onto your stomach.

“you can’t win,” childe’s voice should be triumphant; he has you, his adversary, his prize, in absolute submission.  but remorse bleeds from his words and into your ears.  “stop acting like you even had a chance.”

your head shakes back and forth.  the pressure of childe on top of you makes it difficult to think straight, your body screaming at the torture.  but you know that you can’t afford to lose here, or even think about giving up.  not when paimon, not when the knights, or keqing or ningguang or – 

“ – but zhongli.” your wheeze comes out like a sob, but there aren’t any tears in your eyes.  the harbinger above you regards your broken state in silence, his cape of stars distorting the walls of the golden house.  the chill of his armor burns as it digs into your exposed skin, but it’s grief that consumes you whole.

behind his mask, childe’s eyebrows furrow.  what does zhongli have anything to do with this?  he’s not even in the city right now, much less relevant to the life-and-death scenario you’re in.  is it really him that you’re weeping for, and not your own safety?  

childe moves his spare hand to the side of your face, testing.  your body shudders violently underneath his, anticipating what might come, with eyes wide and mouth in the middle of another gasp.  a claw taps at the rise of your cheek, and skims down your flesh until it hovers down to the plump of your lips. 

“it’s his name,” the harbinger exhales, voice now devoid of sentiment.  and all at once, you freeze.  “that you call to now?”

another beat of silence – bemusement is clear in your eyes.  he continues, and with each word, he lowers himself closer to your face.  you remember how to move, and as desperately as you can, put your hands on his mask in another attempt to delay the closing distance, all while trying to deny his twisted assertion.  

his mask vibrates as his voice flows.  you feel it thrum under the bruised skin of your palms.  “there are more important things to think about right now.  like the dead god you couldn’t protect.”  

childe doesn’t stop until his face is mere centimeters from yours.  between your fingers, you can see yourself in the clouded orb of his mask. 

“or, you know, yourself,” he finishes, aggrieved.  “you’ve never been the selfish type.  but i didn’t think that you’d be one to think of someone else in a situation like this.”

“no,” you start, still attempting vainly to push him back.  “no, listen to m– ”

“you held back before,” childe resumes his monologue, referencing your duel.  you never aimed for his neck, his chest, or a fatal blow – always at his arms or legs.  “worried about hurting me when nearly crushed you with a whale.”  

“you know why.” your cry falls on deaf ears.  for some reason the misery in your words doesn’t stir him.  “because i didn't want to.  just yesterday we ate together at wanmin, and the day before that, nantianmen – ”

“not as friends,” he interrupts, and you become quiet at the harshness in his voice.  “as a formality.  you knew it would come to this.  neither of us could afford to believe otherwise.” 

for the second time, your hands fall back to your sides.  you can’t speak.  you don’t want to.  not when you agree with what he’s saying.  but you know – you know he wants it to be different.  

does he?

you avert your eyes from his face.  his body no longer weighs on your own, but he still traps you underneath.  your next words are a mere whisper. 

“can you blame me for wanting to?”

childe doesn’t respond.  you hear his hydro dagger evaporate.  your hair moves as a clawed hand settles on the back of your head, cushioning it from the floor.  

“yes.”  he exhales, but the bottom half of his mask disintegrates and his lips descend onto yours. 

you feel like crying as his body grinds against you, thrusting your form further into the tile.  as he sucks on your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth, your hands find purchase in his hair, feebly grabbing onto strands as you try to keep up with his brutal pace.  lips, tongue, lips, tongue – you can’t keep track of how long you’re wedged underneath him like this, or how many times you’ve come close to moaning his name as he’s pulled on your hair, trying to provoke as much of a reaction out of you as he can.

if you’re fragile, then childe’s already broken.  his kisses tell you just as much: he tries to feel as much of you as he possibly can, pressing his mouth to your cheeks, the veins on your neck and the flesh above your heart.  but i can’t help indulging in you, his ministrations say in contradiction to his spiteful words from before. i can’t stop.

childe’s skin is rough against yours – hardened from his delusion – but he feels like the rush of a high tide at noon.  you clutch onto his shoulders, whimpering as the kisses just don’t stop, noises spilling from your mouth as he lifts you from the ground, hands on the backs of your thighs.  he carries you away from the wreckage, still biting into the convergence of your neck and shoulder, dragging the flesh under his teeth, and tugs until there are tears in your eyes.  you cry out again, with only pleas for him, and that’s when he realizes that there’s something beautiful about how ruined you look. 

he’s grateful that he has a mask: underneath it, he’s just as anguished as you are. 

“m-more.” you gasp next to his ear, practically clawing at his shoulders.  across the length of your collarbones, bite marks from his teeth are embellished onto your skin.  “archons, childe . . . ”

he doesn’t waste any more time, pushing your back against a column while supporting your body with his hands underneath your thighs.  he squeezes them harshly as he situates his crotch between your legs – and when he starts to rut into your body, nearly growling, he makes sure to cover your mouth with his own so he can feel you even further lose yourself to him.

“is this what you want?”  he jeers against your lips, yet for some reason, it’s as if he isn’t talking to you.  a gasp is wrung from your mouth as he thrusts up into the juncture of your legs; this feels like bliss.  “tell me this is what you want, and i’ll give it to you, y/n.  just tell me.”

another shove.  the heat between your legs is unbearable, and all too quickly, you’re complying, “y-yes, you, ple – ”

he tears off your undergarments and rams himself into you before you can finish.

the force of his entry is enough to jolt your spine into the column behind you, and once more, you’re winded by his brutality; there was no preparation, and for his first thrusts, it’s painful, yet the relief you feel with him inside you is undeniable.  you find yourself not only clinging onto his shoulders for leverage, but even tightening around his length as you adjust to his size and pace, eyes squeezed shut and teeth biting into your lower lip.

“fuck,” childe groans, and buries his face into the litter of hickeys he marked you with before.  he rocks you back and forth on his hips.  “you feel too good.  fuck, fuck, fuck.”

you think you’re bleeding where he clutches your thighs, but you can’t think clearly enough to be sure.  all you know is more, more, please, more, let me drown in you more.  

you both know this isn’t right, but neither of you can stop.  neither of you want to stop. 

your gasps fill the ambiance of the golden house.  childe makes sure to pull out of you completely, leaving you pitifully empty and clenched around nothing, before pounding back in. 

“you’re so filthy,” he finally speaks after what feels like an eternity.  the shock of his voice does nothing to quell the building climax in your stomach, and instead, spurs on your want even further.  “getting off to me just after being tossed around.  aren’t you just cute.”

his teeth sink into your neck once more, and you muffle a scream.  the flat of his tongue lathers his bites from before, coating them in saliva.  you don’t know what to do, what to say, and can only admit to his words in the drug of hedonism. 

your body lurches as he hastens his pace.  he doesn’t relent for a second, and your insides feel like absolute mush. “tell me to go harder and i will,” childe goads, the squelching of liquid between your legs becoming more prominent as he continues.  “moan louder.  cry harder.  tell me who’s breaking you right now.”

“you.”  it’s another one of your uneven breaths, another to be added to the plethora of defeated exhales.  “you, childe.  y-you’re . . . ”

you can’t bring yourself to finish.  the awareness of your vulnerably creeps into your conscious, and for a moment, your eyes roll down to where the two of you are connected. 

before they snap back up, just to see the orb on his mask stare you down. 

“tell me,” childe repeats, and you go absolutely still.  “who’s breaking you right now.”

and once more, he pulls out, length dripping in your juices, before hilting himself until there’s no more space between your bodies.

“you!”  this time, you do scream.  he’s too much, his size stretching you as he re-enters.  “ – you’re the one wh-who’s breaking me.”

in, out, in out.  “yes, good.  say it again.”

“you, childe.  you’re breaking me . . . “ 

and when your voice cracks, he feels like he’s shattered too.

you come before he does.  suddenly, abruptly, crumpling against his larger form as if you’ve been completely spent.  he still moves inside you, not at his point of release yet, and at the excessive stimulation your body jerks.  your eyes have glazed over, but the faint grip you have on his arms tells him that you’re still with him.  

he mutters your name, as if in reassurance, before slotting his lips over yours once more, tasting your tears as they fall from your eyes.

“good kitten,” his praise ghosts over your lips.  as he cums, childe presses himself as far into you as he can.  you sigh into his mouth as he does so, shoulders falling, and eyes closing.

he’s not sure whether to embrace you like a lover or cry like a monster. 

[havenoffandoms]

Hey congrats on 900 followers! Would I be able to request the touch starved prompt from your list with the pairing Aiden/Lambert please? Love all your writing!

Hello!! Thanks for requesting this prompt and this pairing! I’ve been on a right Lambden kick recently, so I felt inspired. I hope you like it! 

Prompt 13: Touch-Starved

Pairing: Aiden x Lambert

Warnings: None

Prompt List

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together. Being stabbed to death in his sleep comes to mind, or having Aiden go all batshit crazy if Lambert dared to beat him at Gwent. Lambert has heard many rumours about Cat witchers in his long life. Cats are batshit crazy. Cats are emotionally volatile. Cats are backstabbing sons of bitches… literally and metaphorically. Cats are bad. Cats are evil, etc, etc. All these rumours circulated in Kaer Morhen long before Lambert even set foot in that ramshackle castle. He was too young to have witnessed the Tournament, but he heard the older witchers talk. Later in his life, when only a handful of wolf witchers were left after the sacking, Eskel gave Lambert a more detailed account of the Tournament.

“The Cats betrayed us, went on a rampage. Killed many wolf witchers in the process. Geralt and I lost many friends that day,” Eskel told him one evening, when the oldest surviving wolf was too far in his cup to notice that he was oversharing. “Radowit’s court mage Astrogarus promised the Cats monopoly on killing monsters within Kaedwen in exchange for attacking the Wolves during the tournament. Turns out Radowit was a backstabbing motherfucker himself. He ordered his soldiers to shoot all of the remaining witchers of both schools in the arena.”

“Lemme guess,” Lambert spoke, his own speech slightly slurred, “pretty boy saved the day?” 

Eskel shook his head. “Fled. Mousesack helped him escape the massacre. Poor bastard never forgave himself for abandonin’ our brothers, but what choice did he have?”

Don’t get Lambert wrong. He’s not saying that Aiden is harmless, far from it. The guy’s lethal with his swords, deadly with a pair of daggers, not to mention a stealthy and clever thief. Aiden is mercurial, hot-tempered and a bit feral when he wants to be, and his morals are at best dubious. Whereas wolf witchers had their emotions beaten out of them at a young age, cat witchers feel too much, too strongly. Lambert’s witnessed Aiden flip tables when peasants beat him at Gwent, but he’s also witnessed the Cat shed a tear after bringing the news to a mother that her son did not survive the ghoul attack two villages down the road. 

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but the Cat had never ceased to surprise him. The most unexpected trait Aiden has displayed to date is his insatiable need for physical contact. It’s not like Lambert hates being touched - he’s only human, albeit a mutated one, but still human. He enjoys a hug as much as the next person, especially when said hug comes from one of his brothers (or, dare he say, Vesemir) at the end of a long and difficult year on the Path. Lambert has also never begrudged a bed partner a post-coital cuddle session. Aiden’s need for physical contact is… on a whole different level. 

The first time it happened, Lambert almost shoved the Cat off him and sent him packing, until he realised that Aiden was not only hugging him, but clinging onto him. His sharp nails were digging in the soft material of Lambert’s shirt, the fabric creaking in protest under the firm grip. When Lambert looked down, he noticed the pinched eyebrows and tears trailing down Aiden’s face. It wasn’t until a broken sob pushed past the Cat’s lips that Lambert reluctantly returned the embrace, arms wound tightly around Aiden’s trembling body. Aiden eventually settled in the safety of Lambert’s arms, his features softening as he sank back into a peaceful slumber. 

Neither mentioned the previous evening’s impromptu cuddling session, but from that moment one, it was like someone had flicked a switch. Aiden came up with every possible fucking excuse to touch Lambert. Their hands would always accidentally graze each other when they packed up camp, or tacked up the horses. Aiden would bump shoulders with him when they were travelling on foot. If they sat next to one another in a tavern, Aiden would press his leg against Lambert’s, and if they were facing each other, a tentative foot would gently nudge Lambert’s shin and linger there. It’s not like Aiden was trying to hide his intentions, either. They rarely paid for two rooms anymore, because even if they did, Aiden would always end up in Lambert’s bed anyway, arms wound around Lambert’s body like a koala clinging to its mother.

Lambert doesn’t hate Aiden’s need for physical proximity, he’s just… confused by it. Aiden rarely takes any lovers to bed, even though he clearly craves physical intimacy. Lambert is more than happy to cuddle with Aiden, especially when they are forced to sleep under the stars and the early autumn frosts begin to settle over the region. It saves them from lighting a campfire, which may attract the wrong kind of attention to them. That’s all that’s ever transpired between the two, though… cuddling. Lambert enjoys the cuddling as much as Aiden does, but for Aiden it seems to be about more than mere enjoyment. The Cat simply refuses to go without physical intimacy which at times can be… alright, it can feel overbearing, but Lambert’s not about to complain, not when most humans turn away from him in disgust and contempt when he tries to chat them up. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, Aiden almost develops a form of separation anxiety. He refuses to let Lambert out of his sight, going so far as to follow the man everywhere, and that’s the moment when Lambert snaps. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he asks, his tone hiding none of the irritation he feels at being tailed by this overgrown tomcat. Aiden stops dead in his tracks, his eyes growing wide at Lambert’s words. 

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been following me since this morning… I have errands to run and it’s hard to do that when you’re breathing down my neck!”

Lambert instantly regrets his words the minute they leave his mouth. Aiden’s shoulders visibly sag at Lambert’s comment, his content expression melting into something sadder and the sight tugs at the wolf’s heartstrings in all the wrong ways. Aiden averts Lambert’s eyes shyly, the tip of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink as embarrassment washes over him. Lambert heaves a sigh. Way to act like a fucking dick. 

“Sorry, Aiden. I… I didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but-”

“It’s alright, I… I knew this moment would come eventually.”

“What are you talking about?” Lambert asks, a confused frown etched on his face. Aiden doesn’t look at him when he replies in a voice far too small to belong to the lethal, cocky witcher Lambert has come to know over the past few months. 

“You’re gonna ask me to leave for good. I get it. I… I’ll go back to the room and pack my things.” 

As Aiden turns around to leave, Lambert’s hand shoots out and grabs a hold of Aiden’s wrist. Before Lambert’s brain has a chance to catch up, he finds himself pulling Aiden into a nearby alley, away from prying eyes of judgemental humans meandering the stalls of the midweek market. Aiden looks so unsure now, so vulnerable like this, and it makes Lambert want to wrap the Cat up in warm blankets and cuddle him and forget the world for a while. Instead, he settles on pressing Aiden’s back against the wall and draping himself around the Cat witcher as much as he can. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Lambert breathes in the air pocket between them as he locks eyes with Aiden, “you’ve just been… especially clingy recently. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Aiden averts his eyes once again, but Lambert is quick to grip the other man’s chin and force Aiden to meet his gaze. Even that simple touch pulls a small hiss from Aiden, whose eyes flutter shut as he relishes in the feeling of Lambert touching him anywhere. Lambert purses his lips, eager for an answer. 

“Aiden-”

“Winter is around the corner,” Aiden whispers, his tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. Lambert’s frown deepens. 

“And?”

His question is met with a pointed eye roll from Aiden. 

“And… wolves return to their dens for winter, don’t they? I was just… enjoying the last few weeks in your company before you leave and never come back.”

As the final piece of the puzzle slots into place, understanding dawns on Lambert. He pulls away from Aiden and the small whimper the loss of contact triggers does not go unnoticed. Something old and fragile aches in Lambert’s chest as the meaning of Aiden’s words sink in. Aiden isn’t just worried about being separated from Lambert for a few months, but he’s worried that Lambert will never come back.The wolf links his fingers with his Cat’s, squeezing softly as he leans into Aiden’s space and rubs his bearded cheek against Aiden’s jawline. The latter quickly melts under the soft ministrations, the soft content rumble deepening into a continuous purr as Lambert nuzzles the crook of Aiden’s neck. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

“Yeah, right,” Aiden snorts in response, “cause you’re so good with feelings and shit.”

“Not everyone’s a sappy sentimental bitch like you are,” Lambert teases gently, earning himself a half-hearted slap up the back of the head. “I don’t have to go back to Kaer Morhen this winter.”

Aiden tenses, his soft purring stopping abruptly as he takes in Lambert’s words. Lambert continues to rub his cheek against Aiden’s jaw, his neck, his cheek… wherever he can reach, the action meant to soothe the brewing storm in Aiden’s mind.

“It’s your home,” Aiden offers weakly, “I don’t want… I… it’s your home.” 

“I can send a letter to the old man. Let him know I’m alive. We could find a den somewhere else… an attic somewhere, or an abandoned castle.” Lambert nuzzles the spot right behind Aiden’s ear, earning a pleased hum from the Cat. “Or you could come with me.”

“Sure. Cause that’s gonna end well…” 

“That’s settled then. I’m spending winter with you.”

Aiden pushes Lambert away, their eyes meeting once again but this time, Aiden searches for any trace of a lie in Lambert’s amber gaze. He finds none, because Lambert is one hundred percent honest in his offer. He would ditch Vesemir, Geralt and Eskel for a year to spend it with Aiden… and the thought should scare him more than it does, truthfully. He’s only known the Cat for a few months, and yet… well, maybe Lambert was dreading the winter as well. How about that? It’s not like he felt equally anxious about leaving Aiden, it’s just… fuck off. 

“You mean that?” 

“Mhm. Fair warning… I hate the cold. If I’m spending the winter with you, you’ll have to find a way to keep me warm or I will bite your head off.” 

In Aiden’s defence, he does keep Lambert warm all winter long. Their cuddling finally turns into something more, and from the moment Lambert and Aiden cross that fateful line there is no going back. Aiden becomes insatiable, always seeking Lambert’s body in some shape or form, never letting the wolf out of his sight again.  Lambert may have been apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but it turns out that all his worries were for nothing. Turns out Cat witchers are still crazy, and feral, and mercurial… a tad possessive as well, something Lambert doesn’t hate... but they’re also the cuddliest sons of bitches on the Continent. 

Lambert can live with that, he thinks. 

Request a prompt.

[mypoisonedvine]

Side Effects | Bruce Banner x reader

summary: you never know what might be in the beakers at another chemist's station. you never know which of your colleagues might come along just in the knick of time to become the only antidote to your affliction.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut! (dub con due to sex pollen), semi-public sex (because technically someone could have walked by but unlikely), guilt/hesitance, kinda pining??, fingering, creampie,

a/n: yes, this is an accurate depiction of emergency shower protocol in a chemical lab and yes it is every lab technician's worst nightmare. thankfully the other stuff is not an accurate depiction of any known chemical, lol.

You wiped your forehead with a tired sigh, staring down at the calculations in front of you before using your pen to scribble over them before tearing out the page and throwing it away.

“You still do that by hand?” Bruce interjected, making you look up at where he was leaning in the doorway to the lab, watching you work.

“Oh, Dr. Banner!” you greeted with a smile, wondering if it was too ecstatic. You weren’t so good at the ‘playing it cool’ thing like he seemed to be.

“We have all those fancy screens and digital whiteboards, you know,” he explained as he stepped in and looked around at your work. “Not to mention the computer can do that stuff for you.”

“I know,” you scoffed, “but I always feel better doing it myself, on real paper. Not that I’m having any luck at the moment…”

"Here, I'll give them a quick look while you take a break," he offered, glancing at the numbers from over your shoulder. "You just get up and stretch your legs for a minute, doc."

You always thought it was sort of silly for him to call you that when he was a doctor as well, but you didn't complain.

Regardless, you were about to tell him that it was fine and you didn't need a break, but he was leaning in closer to take your seat and the proximity was so intimidating that you hopped up and went along with it anyways. He sat down and pondered your calculations while you circled the lab, taking a moment to appreciate how nice it felt to stand up and move around after sitting for so long.

"Your handwriting is…" Bruce trailed off, adjusting his glasses.

"Feminine and graceful?" you finished sarcastically.

"Sure," he chuckled.

"Yeah, just like me—" you started to quip, but mid-sentence you (ironically) stumbled and tripped, using a nearby table to catch yourself— but you accidentally grabbed onto a beaker, which tipped over and smashed onto the ground. The liquid inside spilled onto the floor just before you did, and you winced as you fell into the puddle of the unknown substance.

“Shit!” you hissed as you scrambled to get up, looking down at your clothes and seeing they were covered in the fluid, which was beginning to evaporate, or steam, or something. Remembering lab safety protocols, you instantly began to strip, closing your eyes and wishing Bruce hadn’t come in just before this. As you shirked your lab coat, shirt, and skirt, you walked to the emergency shower, pulling the lever and gasping when the chilly stream of water poured down on you. Bruce looked at you with wide eyes before being kind enough to turn around as you shivered and removed your bra and underwear, now completely naked and weakly scrubbing yourself with your hands in hopes that none of the chemical had gotten onto your skin.

“What is it?” he asked nervously, turning his head back enough that you could hear him over the flow of water, but hopefully not so much that he could see anything important.

“I don’t know,” you answered, “it’s not mine. It’s something Dr. Sutherland was working on…”

“Is it… are you in pain at all?” he asked, even more concerned, and you tried to decide if you could feel any effects.

“N-no…” you answered hesitantly. You felt hot, and strange, and you were covered in rolling chills, but you figured that was just the situation you were in— naked in a tepid shower in front of your coworker who just so happened to be incredibly sexy.

“I should call poison control,” Bruce offered as he reached for his cell phone.

“No, I’m fine,” you denied as the water flow slowed down and you wiped your face, confident that you looked like a complete mess— but at least you saved yourself from whatever was in that beaker, right?

“Here,” Bruce offered an emergency blanket to you after pulling it off a nearby shelf, and it was not at all absorbent but it helped with the draft as you stepped away from the shower which was still leaking the last few drops of water onto the drain on the floor.

“Thank you,” you nodded nervously, shivering and dripping and looking back at him with no idea what to say at all.

“Do you feel alright? I should check you for burns,” he suggested. “I— I won’t look…”

“Please,” you sighed, pulling the blanket a bit to expose your chest and stomach. He brushed his hand over the skin there, making you instantly whine as heat burned just under your skin, clouding your mind and making you crave even more.

"Did that hurt?" he asked anxiously, pulling away, but you stepped closer.

"No it's… it's good, it's so good."

He furrowed his brow as he looked down at you, putting the back of his hand to your forehead. "You're burning up, doc, you must be running a fever of 105."

"Touch me more, please," you whimpered. It was like you were in a dream, everything foggy and distant, and the only time that anything made sense was when he touched you. Or maybe it was that his touch sent you further into delirium; you couldn't be sure.

He gasped when he looked at your quivering legs only to find slick arousal running down the inside of them, threatening to drip onto the floor.

"Oh," he sighed.

"Please," you begged mindlessly, "Dr. Banner, I n-need you…"

"No, you need medical attention."

You whined and grabbed as his shirt, humming at the feeling of his warm skin just beneath. If the forearms that he often left exposed in rolled-up sleeves were anything to go buy, his chest was probably toned and tanned, lightly dusted with dark hair… you were all but drooling at the thought. "Please, Bruce… just help me," you pleaded, looking up into his eyes which were swirling with conflict.

"I can't," he shook his head. "I'd be taking advantage."

He must have seen the heartbreak of rejection make you wince, because he tried to soothe you with his hands resting on your arms— even just that contact making you suppress a moan.

"I've wanted this for so long," he explained, "and you— you haven't. You're unwell, you need to go to a hospital."

You sobbed a little at the idea of being taken away from him and examined by strangers, when you knew the solution was right in front of you. "No, no Bruce they'll touch me! Nobody can touch me but you, I only want you."

He scoffed, but you heard the weakness in it and you needed him to give in soon before you melted from your own hear. "You're deranged— delirious," he reiterated.

"It'll feel so good, please Bruce, I'll be so good for you— anything you want, I'll do it, I'm yours."

"Stop talking like that," he winced. "I can't… I can't."

"I need to feel you inside me, Dr. Banner, I need it more than anything. It's just gonna get worse… please, help me. I want you. I trust you."

"You'll hate me in the morning," he asserted. "God, this is so wrong…"

But much to your relief, he reached down and hesitantly slid his thick middle finger through your folds, gasping gently as he felt how wet you were. "I should t-take you somewhere private."

"No, need you now— right here," you pleaded, trying to chase his touch with your hips.

"But if someone came by—" he began to fret, glancing at the door; but his attention was turned back to you by your hands weaving into his hair.

"Nobody else stays this late, god, Bruce please I just need you so bad—"

He cut you off with a sudden kiss, which was enough on its own to make warmth bloom in your gut, but then he started to move his finger again and you shuddered with a moan that was muffled by his lips.

"Maybe I can make you come like this," he offered as he pulled back just enough to whisper to you, "would that help you? It'll take the edge off."

You bucked and moaned against his fingers, just those subtle touches driving you wild. "N-no, it has to be inside! You have to fuck me, I need your cock."

He breathed through his teeth, like he was almost considering it, but then looked away. "I can't," he shook his head.

"Can't or won't?"

He frowned. "Won't. I'll get you off with my fingers, otherwise it would be… too selfish."

"Bruce, I'm literally begging you for it," you sighed, the irritated tone that you'd intended lost in the moans he elicited by rubbing your swollen clit.

"I know," he winced, "I know and it's killing me that I can't give you what you're asking for… I swear if it wasn't like this…" he trailed off as you looked up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

"What would it be like?" you asked lowly. "Tell me how you would fuck me."

For all his shyness before, there was a brief switch in his demeanor as he leaned in, breath hot against your neck as he whispered, two fingers sliding into your channel at the exact moment that he spoke.

"So fucking hard."

You whimpered, knees wobbling a bit as you tried to ride his fingers— but he wasn't pushing back, wasn't giving you enough force to balance against when you sought more friction. "P-please, Bruce— I know you want to, please, please baby I need it so bad…"

"I know," he breathed, free hand cradling your face as his thumb stroked your cheek, and it was so needlessly compassionate, so effortlessly soothing that your heart had no choice but to clench at his tenderness. Other parts of you clenched as well, in much more literal ways, but the heart thing was more important.

You gingerly reached forward and palmed his cock through his pants, moaning when you felt how hard it was. "You're desperate, too," you informed him with a little smile. "It hurts, doesn't it? It aches."

"Yes," he answered tensely.

"I'm hurting too. I'm aching, for you. Please, Bruce, help me."

As he pulled back and examined your face, he chewed his lip and contemplated. He couldn't stand to see you in pain, but he couldn't comprehend what he had to do to help you. Well, okay, that's not totally accurate because he had actually "comprehended" the idea of making love to you plenty of times. But that was just a fantasy, a very misguided one that he only indulged in in his weakest moments. And in those fantasies, shockingly enough, you were always completed lucid and of sound mind and body. He sadly could not say that for you at the moment, and of course he couldn't because of course when you were sober and healthy, you didn't see him that way.

Bruce prided himself on his logic, his integrity, his patience. Suddenly, those qualities were falling prey to a much deeper, carnal instinct that saw this not as a predicament but as an opportunity. Logic states, after all, that it would be wasteful to have everything he wanted thrown into his lap and to let it go to waste.

"Fuck," he groaned as he kissed you again, fucking you faster with his fingers. You moaned and went for his belt, barely managing to open it with your hands shaking so much; part of you had considered just trying to rip the leather off of him, and with the force of your need it seemed almost plausible.

Finally getting his trousers opened just enough to reach inside, you purred as you reached in and navigated past his boxers to wrap your fingers around his hard cock. It was so thick and smooth and hot and you almost wanted to drop to your knees and take it in your throat right then, but you had better plans.

He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, grinning against you at the way you whined, before wrapping his arms around you and quickly instructing you to jump.

It was infuriating, how easily he caught you when you wrapped your body around him. Infuriating and so painfully sexy.

He never broke the kiss as he walked the two of you to your lab table, sliding the papers aside and onto the floor to set you on it. You started on his aggravatingly-small shirt buttons while he pushed his trousers and boxers down the rest of the way, and god his cock was right there between your legs, so close but very much too far away for your liking.

You didn't have the time or energy to get his shirt off, settling for just running your hands over the exposed skin instead. He grinned and watched the path your hands made, hissing slightly when they wrapped around his shaft— for a second you swore you could feel it throb.

"Don't make me wait anymore," you whispered your plea, sighing a little when he nodded.

"Okay baby," he agreed.

"Been waiting so long," you whined.

"Me too," he nodded, and with a little push, his cock slid all the way into you and filles you to the brim. Even when you were completely drenched, the girth of him was so wide that it stung, that it tore you open, but you loved it. Your head fell back and just from him being inside you, you came. The substance had you so needy and sensitive that that was all it took. It wasn't enough yet, of course. You knew you needed more. But God, he felt so good you could hardly breathe.

"Baby," you heard Bruce gasp, his fingers digging into your hips. Your chest twisted when he laughed a little, breathless and just teetering on the line between complimentary and mocking. "Did you just come?"

You considered playing dumb, but nodded instead.

His smile was apparent when he pressed his lips just below your ear to suck on the delicate skin there, his teeth trailing up to nibble your earlobe lightly. You hoped he would leave a mark, you hoped he would leave lots of marks that you could remember this by for weeks to come.

"Couldn't help yourself, huh?" he asked breathlessly, whispering so quietly you could barely hear it over the beating of your own pulse which echoed in your ears.

"You feel so good," you justified, "so fucking good, Bruce."

"You too," he sighed as he finally pulled back and slid into you again, the friction making your back arch instantly. "Even better than I imagined."

You smiled and wrapped your legs around his hips, forcing him to push deeper with each thrust. When he pushed you to your limits it felt like you might just fall apart right there, but it was so worth it.

As if that wasn't enough, he reached down and circled a thumb over your overstimulated clit, grinning down at you at the sight of you writhing and bucking wildly in his arms.

"Fuck!" you cried as you tightened your hands on his shoulders into fists hard enough to risk tearing through his shirt.

"Too much?"

"More," you pleaded instead, crying out when he gave you exactly what you wanted with fast, rough thrusts into your drenched walls. "Yes," you sobbed, "yes, fuck— m'gonna come, Bruce, gonna come again."

"Go ahead," he encouraged, voice so much rougher than normal, "show me how good it feels, baby."

It felt like his words were the thin that pushed you over the edge, as if your body somehow both understood and obeyed his command. You could feel a renewed wave of slick leak out from you, enough that you could hear the wetness in each slap of his hips against yours. His name was somewhere in the litany of curses and praises that spilled from your lips, your mind too clouded with hazy pleasure to keep track of what you were actually saying.

"Just like that," he groaned, "doing so good, fuck, say my name just like that every time I make you come."

An easy enough stricture to follow, especially when it seemed like he was all you could think about. He looked so different with his clothes half-shorn and his eyes dark with lust. He hadn't taken his glasses or labcoat off and you weren't sure which of those you were happier about.

His lips and hands were all over you; you couldn't even keep track of everywhere he was touching you, that's how overwhelming it was. "God, you're so fucking perfect," he groaned against your skin, finding a hardened nipple as his tongue explored you and wrapping his lips around it. "You are so goddamn sexy, you know that? I love seeing you with your legs spread for me like a needy little whore. I love hearing you moan and knowing I'm the one making you feel this good."

He took a moment to look at you and soak in your shocked reaction to his words before leaning in to continue.

"I love feeling you come for me," he purred in your ear.

"Then you're gonna really like what I'm about to do," you shivered.

"Yeah? You can gimme another one already?" he smiled. "Such a good girl…"

You really couldn't help it, it felt like everything he did only enhanced your pleasure— his words, his hands all over you, not to even mention his cock inside you. As much as the hedonistic corner of your brain was happy to let this go on forever, the ramifications of constant orgasms were finally catching up with you as you wondered how much more of this you could take.

"F-fuck, are you close?" you asked weakly. "Want you to come for me, Bruce, please."

"I-I'll pull out," he suggested, although the way he looked down at his length sinking into you and pulling back out, covered in your abundant arousal, didn't exactly indicate that he was willing and able to actually make good on his offer.

"No!" you yelped, pulling him closer by his unbuttoned shirt. "It needs to be inside, Bruce, please come inside me."

"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth.

"Please, Bruce, please, promise you'll come inside."

"I will," he sighed, "fuck, I will baby, I promise I'm gonna fill you up so good, you're gonna have my come so fucking deep inside you…"

"Yes!" you moaned, completely unabashed as the unknown substance had apparently absolved you of any shame whatsoever. "Yes, I want it, Bruce, I want your come."

The moment you felt his seed start to paint your walls, you felt relief begin to wash over you. Your mind and body relaxed, the overwhelming heat under your skin subsiding into a comforting warmth, the desperation that had burned in your gut satiated at last.

And that left you staring up at him in realization of what you had done, just as he looked back at you with the same.

"God, I'm so sorry—" he shuddered, moving to pull away. Instinctively your legs wrapped around his hips again, holding him close.

"N-no, wait," you groaned, "it's okay. Don't go."

"You don't hate me," he said, the exhaustion in his tone making it hard to tell if it was a question or a statement.

"Never," you sighed with a weak smile, sitting up to clutch his face and kiss him again. "God, Bruce, now I'm just wondering what took us so long."

"Our lab safety is just too good, clearly," he smiled as he kissed you again, pulling back a little too soon to examine your face where he held it in his hands. "Are you okay? You should still probably go to a doctor…"

"I'm already with a doctor," you smirked, "and his treatment was very effective."

"Yeah, that was…" he trailed off, wide eyes as if he were reminiscing about what had only just transpired.

"Sorry for being so… desperate," you cringed. "I didn't mean to… um… impose…"

He just laughed and kissed your forehead, making you feel your cheeks warm a bit; ironic that with everything that had just happened, this was what made you blush. "A beautiful, amazing woman that I've been dreaming about for months begs me to take her in the laboratory… really inconvenient."

"I mean, cleaning up these papers and the broken glass is gonna be pretty tedious, along with the incident report," you frowned.

"I'll help you with it," he offered.

"Tomorrow," you decided. "Right now, I'm taking you to my place."

"Is that so?" he asked with a bemused smirk.

"Yep. We both are in serious need of a shower, and then I wanna go again," you grinned wickedly.

"I thought you said you weren't feeling the effects of the chemical anymore," he recalled, voice tinted with concern.

"I'm not," you reassured, "I'm just feeling the effects of you."

[fairestwriting]

Hi! Can I ask for an hc for octavinelle + riddle and malleus where their fem s/o was a vampire and the boys just knew it the moment she craved their blood? 👀 thanks!

this ones for all my vampire fuckers out there

+ ko-fi link, if anyone feels like financially supporting my writing

Azul Ashengrotto

He knew you wanted to drink from him because of the look you’d been getting in your eyes when you were together.

Won’t be sure on how to approach it. Azul had expected something like this to happen, it just seemed like something that would come with dating a vampire... but now that it’s happening, what does he do? He can’t help but feel like just offering himself to you would be... moving too fast, or something adjacent to it.

He ends up just waiting for you to come to him about it, and while he does, he thinks about how the whole ordeal would feel like very extensively... you catch him staring at your fangs often, almost everytime you flash them while you speak. There’s a nervous glint on his eyes as he looks.

Honestly, Azul is kind of afraid of the pain. He imagines it might be like getting blood drawn, but that still doesn’t really comfort him much. But somehow, he feels willing to just let you drink from him whenever you feel like asking for it...

When the waiting game is over, he’ll be the sort of person who just stays still and closes their eyes, letting you take complete control of the situation. When you get close to him you’ll feel him shake a little -- But he doesn’t move until you’ve had what you needed. Though if he starts getting too lightheaded from blood loss, he might panic.

Jade Leech

Smells the thirst on you, but he’s polite about it.

He’s not well versed in vampire etiquette, he isn’t sure if just offering someone a drink from themselves is considered rude, so he’ll just not really talk about it directly, preferring to approach it more subtly -- Tilting his head innocently at you, asking if you needed anything to drink, offering to fetch it for you if that’s the case.

He’s probably been providing you with blood from others’ to keep you fed, but let’s say you haven’t bitten him yet. As mentioned, he won’t outright offer to let you drink his blood, but if you just ask him, he’ll just smile and allow it. He has to keep his darling well-fed, doesn’t he?

He’s thought about how it’d feel like before. Everyone would, but Jade thought about it a lot -- He likely has a place where he’d like it to happen in mind, but he won’t mind it if you want to take him anywhere else. As long as he gets to find out how it feels like.

Just... weirdly excited about it. He asks you where you’d rather bite, ready to let you have access to whatever spot you pick (Though he’s always imagined it on his neck... it’s cliché, yeah.)

Makes a small gasp-y noise when your fangs go in, but just from the shock. He doesn’t find it too painful at all. He’ll be pliant while you have your drink, and when you’re done he asks you how you’ve found your meal in his best waiter voice, grinning.

Floyd Leech

Smells the thirst on you and is not very polite about it.

So Shrimpy’s hungry? She wants to have some of his blood? That’s not a big deal to Floyd at all, he’s gotten blood out of his body for worse reasons, after all. A little bite or two won’t be too bad.

The one you go for when you want a boyfriend that’s just really chill about you being a vampire. He’ll usually ask you where you’d prefer to bite, but sometimes he might just randomly offer his neck if he notices you’re especially hungry. It’s only partially to tease you.

He doesn’t sit still, so you’ll have to bite into him fast before he starts jiggling his legs or rocking back and forth. Or just sit on his lap so you can ensure his legs won’t be kicking around everywhere.

No reaction when your fangs are on him. Fangs in general aren’t news for him, he has some of his own, you see! He also just has quite the pain tolerance. Pets your hair and smiles while you drink from him, asking you if he tastes nice.

When you’re done, he’ll usually put his arms around you in a big, tight hug, and ask once again if he’s done well, all giggly. Sometimes he jokes about biting you back, so you’re even.

One day he’ll get too curious and kiss you to see what his own blood tastes like.

Riddle Rosehearts

He won’t tell you, but... he’s a bit scared of it. Not full on fear, but something like unease.

It’s strange to think that his girlfriend would see him... or a part of him, rather, as something to feed on. He can’t process it right, and yet, he finds himself more willing to just let you have his blood than he’d imagine.

But because he’s scared of being seen as food or a prey or anything like that, he wouldn’t just let it happen easily. He’ll have to deeply trust you to let you bite him. While he doesn’t feel ready or safe enough for it, he watches you drink from other sources with this strange look on his eyes. Only part of it is fear.

When he’s ready to let you drink from him, he’ll let you know quietly, in a whisper while you two are alone together, maybe just at his dorm room, laying on his bed. He sucks in a deep breath, loosening his collar to expose his neck, and waits quietly for you to bite into him.

He doesn’t make a sound, trying to just deal with it the way one would deal with getting a shot at the doctor’s... but the way it feels is undeniably different. His head gets fuzzy fast, he’ll grab onto you while you drink from him and keep his eyes squeezed shut, waiting it out.

Things like that won’t happen often, but... he’ll let you do it again, eventually.

Malleus Draconia

Not inexperienced when it comes to vampires, if you two are in a committed relationship he’ll be willing to let you have some of his blood every now and then.

Fae are very resistent creatures, so you wouldn’t have to worry about taking too much, either. The problem at hand is that the sensation from drinking his blood would likely be different from any human or animal blood you’ve ever had in your life -- Maybe it’s the taste, maybe it has specific aftereffects. You don’t know what it is, but it feels different.

Lets you pick where you’ll bite him so nonchalantly, you’d think he was just asking you what you felt like eating for lunch (Well, he kind of is)

Once you’ve made your pick, he’ll bring you somewhere comfortable where you can just feed to your heart’s content. It’s either his or your own bedroom or any special lounge rooms in the Draconia manor, if you’re at his place. He sits down on the most comfortable surface and lets you stay close to him, if you’re drinking from his wrist, or you can be on his lap if you’re going for the neck. Drinking from his leg would be more complicated since he might have to lay down, but he won’t mind doing it either.

Quiet like Riddle, but his breath hitches when your fangs go in. He’s almost completely still for the first few seconds of you drinking from him, limbs tense, but he relaxes soon. As he starts feeling more lightheaded, he might begin to chatter, about his interests or asking you questions, especially about vampirism. His hands wander a bit, petting your arm or your back. It’s a strange sort of intimacy.

[wakatvshi]

Hey! I saw that you receive requests so.. I would love some marley warriors + jean (because i love him) with an s/o who's really.. Touchy, please? Could be headcanons or imagines🥺 thank you so so much! 😭

Yeah! I would love to! They’re kind of rambling but I hope you like them and that this is what you wanted! I didn’t do Annie because I just couldn’t really figure out what to write about her but if you really want her send a seperate message and I’ll give you annie with a touchy s/o!

Heads up though I’ve never written or read for Zeke before because he’s not personally a favorite so I hope he’s okay in this! 

JEAN KIRSTEIN ══▸

Jean would LOVE a touchy s/o. He’s a very touchy person himself so having someone who’s as touchy as he is would make him so happy. 

When the two of you are alone he’s all about touching you and always wants to be touching you. When you’re working on something and he can’t be touching you all the time he’ll sit next to you or as close to you as he can be and just be near you. Which helps you both because you’re a touchy person. 

Something both of you love is when you’re sitting in his lap, just doing whatever you’ve been doing. He’ll walk in and you’ll give grabby hands and want to be held and he’ll want to hold you. Doesn’t matter what gender/size anything he wants to have you in his lap and it makes him happy. 

In public, he’s more shy about touching because he’s actually a huge baby and his ‘flirty’ persona that some people think he has is 100% real. He wants to act like he’s smooth but he’s not. He’ll hold your hand and walk with you in public but anything more it’s not going to be him initiating it.

If you’re with him in public and you want more affection than holding hands then you’ll have to do it and he will turn bright red and stutter if he’s supposed to be talking. It’s adorable and he’s so happy even if he’s bright red. 

Another one of his favorite things is you playing with his hair, it turns into a big puddle when you play with his hair and when you compliment him in basically anyway.

If any of his friends catch him being super cute or you being cute with him (aka Sasha and Connie) they’ll laugh and tease him and he’ll get defensive but doesn’t actually mind it. Even if he did you’d just hug him from behind or wrap your arms around him and he’s glaring at them but also super focused on the attention he’s now getting. 

Sleeping with Jean is basically a cuddle fest as well, thankfully for you he’s touchy as well so when you both wake up tangled in each other neither of you really mind it. 

BERTHOLDT HOOVER ══▸

Bertholdt with a touchy s/o would be so good for him but also something that he has to get used to. 

Eventually he finds out that he loves it but at first he doesn’t expect it. He’s very shy and stand-offish even if he doesn’t mean to be. So any physical affection for the most part will have to be done by you. Even years into your relationship you’ll have to be the one who makes the moves. 

The first time you initiate any kind of touch he goes bright red and has no idea how to react. Outside he’s frozen and staring at you, sweating a little. Inside of course he’s beyond happy and he wants nothing more than to move and do the same, he wants to hold onto you too. He wants to touch you and be affectionate but he doesn’t know how. It isn’t until you try to move away that he finally acts and grabs your hand.

Even years into your relationship most of the affection will be initiated by you so it is a good thing that you’re not afraid to be the one who reaches out for him. It also brings him out of his shell quite a bit. 

When the two of you are alone he loves the affection you give him. He doesn’t know how to ask for the affection he wants but he does give small signals and you know him well enough to reach out and grab his hands or crawl in his lap. 

PDA is a no go for him completely, he’s obviously a shy person and being super affectionate is outside of his comfort zone as it is so adding anything else would just be far outside his comfort zone

I also do feel like physical affection is his love language so him having the freedom to act on that and having someone who wants that affection like he does would make him so happy. 

Sleeping with Bertholdt is always a fun experience. You might start holding into him or him holding onto you but you’ll end up in a dozen different positions before you wake up.You’ve got no real say in how you sleep when you’re with him.  

REINER BRAUN ══▸

Literally a teddy bear and would LOVE to have an affectionate s/o. Needs an affectionate s/o. 

Reiner feels unlovable, he feels worthless and he is very depressed and I’m by no means saying you can fix him or fix anyone like that, but affection is everything to this man even if he doesn’t think he deserves it. 

You’ll have to be the one to make the first move for the first time but as soon as he realizes how much you do love affection he’ll be happy to initiate as well. Sometimes he’ll surprise you by being the one to reach out and hold you first. 

Obviously you love that, you’ll just be doing something and possibly not even paying attention to him and Reiner will be the one to walk up and wrap his arms around you and just stand there. 

To him affection is proof of love and comfort that he desperately needs. It would take him a little to get used to at first im sure, he’s not used to it like his mother isn’t very affectionate but he craves it. 

With Reiner it’s easy to be touchy. Even in public he doesn’t mind, he’s more in awe of the fact that you want to be seen with him and want to give affection.

He’s not super huge on over the top PDA but he does love holding your hand or kissing your cheek. Also piggy back rides, I can see him being a fan of that because it’s touch and that’s what he loves and craves.

Sharing a bed with Reiner is always the two of you tangled in each other. He likes to be the big spoon and likes to hold you but he’s 100% okay with you holding him, sometimes he even prefers that. 

Reiner needs to feel loved and affection is the best way to do that in his mind. So being touchy would be perfect.

PORCO GALLIARD ══▸

To me Porco is literally the embodiment of “disgusting. do it again.”

Now not because he’s not a fan of affection but he has this cool guy persona that he puts on around people. He wants people to see him as the tough guy when it’s only half true. You can see it with the kids that he’s actually a super affectionate guy. 

Porco needs validation and having an s/o who’s super touchy would give him that. When you’re touching him he feels like he’s number one. He’s your main focus and it means the world to him. Of course he’d never tell you that. 

You’ll have to be able to read him a little to be able to tell when he wants something because he’s stubborn and sometimes it takes a lot for him to ask you for something if he’s not sure how. 

Now if he’s just in the mood to be affectionate himself he’s good with just holding you or grabbing your hand. He’s also big in kissing, he loves kissing but usually he tries to make it more suggestive or almost casual. 

For just cuteness you’ll have to be the one who holds his face and kisses him or who just holds his hand or hugs him. He has to lean the importance of cute nonsexual affection. 

PDA to him makes him blush a little also super proud that you’re the one on his arm and he wants to show you off and loves that you want to show him off. Being the “most important” to you is important to him. 

When Porco sleeps he’ll sleep holding you for a few minutes but he’s not one who likes to hold onto someone when he sleeps. Biggest surprise when sleeping with him is that Porco LOVES to be the little spoon. He’ll deny it with his dying breath but he adores it. 

Also random cutsey headcanon for Porco that will never leave my head is that Porco loves when you baby talk to him. I have no reason for this hc but I just feel like he would love it. 

PIECK FINGER ══▸

A queen of physical affection honestly. Lives for it and lives to give it. 

She’s in her titan form a lot and when she’s finally out of it she has trouble walking on two legs so you being there for her to lean on when she’s not walking with her crutch and just actually physically supporting her would mean the world to her. 

She also likes that you want to be affectionate with her after being in her titan form for so long. she wants to be held and wants her hair played with. If you let her just lay in your lap and play with her hair or hold her hand she’ll be the happiest woman in the world. 

A lot of your affectionate time is spent with you both laying or sitting somewhere together. If you’re giving her attention or letting her give attention she’s loving it. 

Another thing she loves is walking around with you, she doesn’t shy away from PDA. If you’re together and if you want to kiss her cheek or something she’s more than happy about it. She’ll laugh softly and get the faintest of pink on her cheeks

She does have to make sure that she’s professional about it because she is a warrior and has to keep up her professional persona. 

Of course, you’ll have people who are beyond jealous watching her with you and honestly she thinks it’s kinda cute that people are jealous because to her it doesn’t make sense. 

Sleeping with Pieck is just cuddle city for both of you. She likes to be hold and be held and you’re happy to do both as well. There’s nothing either of you like better than the intimacy and connection that the two of you have laying there and holding each other. 

ZEKE YEAGER ══▸

This man takes a while to get used to physical affection. He’s not really had affection before so you’ll have to work at it.

When he was younger he didn’t have much affection, we know that grandfather spends a great amount of time in the hospital for mental issues and we saw from how they raised Grisha that they’re not super affectionate.

His life has mostly been spent working towards his goals and trying to do what he could to make sure he could complete the goals. So he’s not really put much attention to romantic relationships. 

Having you be super affectionate would for sure throw him off a bit but he’s good at hiding that. I do think once he was used to it, he’d just lean into your touches and want to stay there. 

He doesn’t like PDA at all, he’s the captian of the warriors and he’s respected even by some of the people of Marley. So it is hands off in public. He will walk close to you though, if your arms are brushing and you’re close to him he is happy. 

Alone though he does love affection. You playing with his hair is a good one but what he really loves is getting massages from you. He works hard and if you’ll just stand behind him rubbing his shoulders and kissing the top of his head he’s the happiest man ever. 

When you’re sleeping Zeke is 100% big spoon. He wants to hold you, if you want he’ll let you hold him but he’s most comfortable when he’s able to hold you. That’s when he shows his real affectionate side. He wants you close to him, and he loves holding you. He feels like he can rest when you’re in his arms. 

[multifandomimagines]

Obvious - A Kai Parker Imagine

Characters: Kai Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2285

Summary: Kai and the reader go to a party at the Salvatore house, but they can’t keep their hands off each other.

Warnings: Alcohol, suggestive comments, making out

Written by: Josie

A/N: First imagine! Really hope you guys like it, we’ll be posting more like this soon so be sure to check out our page to help us get going! x

Disclaimer: Gif isn’t ours - credit to who it belongs to.

Kai and Y/N didn’t have what was known as a typically conventional relationship. A witch with unlimited power and a somewhat insane siphon, both with a thirst for chaos and excitement? I mean, causing mayhem together isn’t usually on most people’s date night ideas list.

The Salvatore house was once again home to a massive Friday night party, courtesy of Caroline Forbes’ charm over Stefan, who reluctantly agreed to let her use their house as the venue. Only one of the couple was technically invited, as Y/N was best friends with the hostess. The others weren’t exactly thrilled at Kai appearing by her side with a wide grin when they arrived, but they wouldn’t object. For now at least. Not when he brought enough snacks and drinks for at least ten people.

A few drinks later, and the two witches were almost ready to let loose on the unsuspecting partygoers. What they were planning wasn’t quite as extreme as Kai would have wanted, but Y/N was able to convince him of something both fun, and that wouldn’t kill her friends or land them in a magical coma of sorts.

“Come on,” Y/N giggled as she dragged her boyfriend by the hand away from the snack table and toward the middle of the room. Kai eyed the food with longing as he was taken away from it like he was being torn from his soulmate. He kind of was, really. “Dance with me.”

Turning back to his girl, he raised an eyebrow at her flushed expression. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Only enough to give me confidence,” She turned to face him when she reached her destination in the middle of the crowd, having forced herself and Kai through various sweaty bodies. Kai got smacked in the face by a dancing drunk blonde on the way, but Y/N’s grip on his hand was too strong to give him the chance to get angry at her.

Kai smiled and pulled her close as she wrapped her arms round his neck, beaming up at him. “I thought you wanted to cause some trouble?” He smirked, leaning close as he spoke. Y/N was already a little tipsy, but having him this close made her feel completely intoxicated. He was stronger than any alcohol she could drink, and she never got hungover after a hit of him, she only wanted more.

“I do, but can’t we just act like normal people at a party for a bit? And besides, I like this song!” She swayed with him as the bass boomed through the speakers, making it all the more intense.

“You know I’m not all that much of a dancer.” Kai chuckled at her moves; she was so carefree once she let herself go and her smile was enough to pull at the corner of his lips.

“You liar,” She hit lightly at his chest and looked up at him with a challenging fire in her eyes. “You dance all the time at home.”

“Okay yeah, but that’s not in front of everyone else,” His eyes drifted behind her as she cocked her head in confusion. “And your friends are watching us.”

Y/N turned her head to the side, still latched onto her boyfriend, and caught Damon and Elena keeping a watchful (and definitely judging) eye on the couple. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to Kai. “Let them,” She spoke, reeling him in with her gaze. He was basically putty in her hand. “Just pretend we’re back at home, dancing in the living room, just like we do at the weekends.”

A smile crept its way back onto Kai’s lips as the memory flashed against his mind. Saturday nights were traditionally romantic - they’d cook dinner together, cuddle on the sofa and watch tv, then afterwards he’d always somehow end up twirling her around the room with the lights dimmed until they couldn’t dance anymore, and he’d carry her upstairs to bed.

“Unless,” Her voice by his ear pulled him out of his reverie, looking forward to tomorrow’s date night and thinking about how well he was going to treat her. “You fancied going somewhere else?”

The hair on the back of his neck pricked up at her words, eyes snapping to hers, pupils dilated. His signature smirk appeared, quickly melting her down. “You know me so well.”

Grabbing her wrist, their roles were reversed as he dragged her out of the crowd this time, eyes darting quickly as they searched for somewhere to hide.

“Here,” Y/N said, pointing to a small storage cupboard. “No one ever comes in here.”

“Well then,” Kai said, pushing her inside and closing the door behind them. “You’ll be the first.”

In a flash, she was slammed against the door as Kai’s lips moulded with hers in desperation. He had needed this all night. He might be an expert at hiding it, since emotions had never really bothered him before, but the critical gazes of her friends made him uncomfortable. They made him start questioning every move he made, just because he wanted Y/N’s friends to approve of him and be happy that she’s with him. Kai Parker would never let stupid emotions get to him. Not like love. At least, not until her.

She sighed into his mouth as he took her breath away, her hands gripping his hair tightly while his held her waist firmly in place. His fingers slowly trailed up her shirt, brushing the skin underneath, making her shiver. Breathing heavily, her hands found their way to his chest as he pulled away from the kiss and moved his lips to her neck.

“Eager, are we?” She giggled, her voice thin from the exhilaration. She felt Kai chuckle in response against her skin, sending a tingling sensation through her veins.

“Impatient, actually. I want you now.” Kai trailed his lips down to her collarbone, and back up to her jawline.

Y/N was finding it harder and harder to think straight as Kai pulled away, his fingers tracing the faint marks he’d left on her neck. I’ll definitely have to add to these later, he thought. “What about the plan? Still want to cause a little chaos?”

Kai’s hand that was on her neck moved behind and into her hair, her head automatically tilting up to make capturing his lips easier. “To hell with the plan.”

Leaning in for another heated kiss, their lips had barely met when the door of the storage cupboard swung open and the two of them fell to the ground with a good thump, Y/N groaning as Kai’s whole body weight crushed her.

“Seriously?” Caroline stood over the couple with her hands on her hips, looking mostly irritated yet somewhat amused. The twinkle behind her eye when she looked at Y/N gave that away - she was always the most supportive of her dating Kai.

The female witch glanced sheepishly up at her friend, lightly shoving Kai to the side. The siphon didn’t even want to make eye contact with the blonde vampire. He was yet to familiarise himself with how to deal with awkward.

“Y/N, I thought I said making out in dingy cupboards was off-limits! Raise your standards,” Caroline eyed her friend, the ghost of a smirk lingering on her lips. After looking briefly at Kai’s embarrassed expression, she leaned in closer to Y/N and whispered, “If you guys want to have some fun then just leave. The party’s starting to clear out now anyway, and it’ll be a lot more fun than in a dusty old closet.”

She winked at her and strutted back into the crowd, not before giving Kai a light pat on the shoulder on her way past. She was right, the crowd was slightly smaller than before.

“God,” Kai sighed. “That was awful. I don’t like awkward, it’s my least favourite emotion so far.”

Y/N laughed at her boyfriend; he still discovers himself experiencing new emotions all the time, and she finds it oh so endearing to see how he reacts to the foreign feeling. “Well if anyone was to catch us, I’m glad it was Caroline.”

The tall boy looked at the girl he thought was an angel, although she didn’t quite see herself that way. Sometimes that made him sad, another feeling he didn’t particularly enjoy. “Let’s just get out of here,” He said, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers, something she always loved. “Bring the party back home, just you and me. We can pick up where we left off and no one will even notice we’re gone.”

Y/N grinned, happy that they were always on the same page. She took a step forward, watching as Kai’s eyes lit up more and more the closer she got to him. Their sparkle seemed to be directly proportional to his distance from her. “You just read my mind.”

It wasn’t long until Kai was driving his silver car back to their shared apartment, one hand on her thigh as it always was. She was his comfort blanket no matter what, and physical touch was Kai’s love language, so even when driving he craved some contact with her to keep himself sane.

Mostly sane anyway.

Eventually, they returned to the warmth of their apartment and wasted no time in latching onto each other. See, that was the thing about Y/N and Kai. She might be his comfort blanket, but he was hers too. When they’re apart it feels like two separate parts of a magnet, aching to be able to touch, see, feel the other, so when that ache is satisfied, it’s like a force unlike any other, and pulling them apart proves difficult as neither of them wants to ever be away from the other.

Their love for each other was obvious, you’d have to be blind not to see it. The only reason Y/N’s friends tolerated Kai was because they couldn’t deny the clear adoration and care he had for her. They’d tell her Y/N, he can’t be trusted, he doesn’t feel, he can’t feel love, but when you witness a love like they have, how could you ignore it? They’d almost come to a silent truce: Kai stays out of trouble and never hurts Y/N, and they’d leave him be. It worked for them.

What they had said about him not feeling love was true though, before. Kai thought that love was a wasted feeling - relationships crash and burn everyday, he’d said once, so why would he let it waste his time if he can’t one hundred percent confirm that it would be for life? Y/N came into his life like a wildfire spreading through dry forest, this new and unusual feeling coursing through him at an alarming pace, and it made him want to scream. He couldn’t understand why he was unable to shake this one girl out of his head, it was distracting him and he couldn’t concentrate, it was a nuisance.

But as time went on and he started wanting to make sure she was safe and happy, it became less and less of a burden to him. In fact, he started to revel in it. Any excuse he could find to see her, he’d take it. Any chance to protect her, he’d be there in an instant. He actually started to care, which baffled him at first because Kai Parker doesn’t care. But as he looked at her then, wind blowing her hair around her face, he didn’t mind it. Maybe caring wasn’t so bad, if it was this one girl he cared about. He decided then that he would dedicate all his emotion to her, all his care, all his time, all his love.

Love. When Kai realised he was in love, he wasn’t sure if he was awake or dreaming. Love was pointless, he told himself so. But he couldn’t bring himself to lie to himself any longer. It may have been pointless to him back then, but not now. Now, his whole reason for living was to make this one girl happy, this one girl who had managed to change a man so set in his old toxic ways. He loved her.

Y/N wasn’t sure if she’d ever definitely know that she was in love. I mean, how can you really know? Everyone’s experiences with love are different, and all relationships vary, so there’s not one set formula for it. Love is complex, and that was scary to her, because she didn’t want to let someone in thinking they’re her soulmate, and they end up breaking her heart. She’d made that mistake before, and she didn’t want to let the wrong person get to her again. But with Kai, there wasn’t a single question or doubt in her mind. This, this was what love was supposed to feel like. All that fear of allowing the wrong person into her heart had vanished in an instant, because she knew there would be no one else ever again now that she had Kai. He had taken up residence in her mind and there was no space for anyone else. He was her person, she knew, it was obvious. She loved him.

Back in the apartment with the two of them getting lost in each other, those intense feelings resurfaced. In that moment, it was just the two of them: no problems, no death, no prison worlds. Only the crystal clear love they had for each other that everyone could see. It even got them a bit of a reputation in the local supernatural community as the couple that defeated all odds.

The sociopath who learned to fall in love, and the witch that taught him how.

[shorkbrian]

What's Deku like when he gets jealous?

Prelude - This is just an excuse for me to write subby(-ish), angry baby boy with a mommy kink, sorry. Want to put a little reminder here that this is fiction, and it’s depicting a bad relationship

Seriously you guys, I feel like I need to reiterate that a relationship like this isn’t healthy. Your partner should not cling to you 24/7, they should not try and manipulate your feelings. They can communicate their feelings in such a way (Baby, I’m feeling a little lonely right now, would you be up for some cuddling?) that doesn’t force you into rushing to assure them that you still love them because otherwise they’ll have a complete breakdown. I feel like this fic is an example of some unhealthy codependency stuff. I don’t condone this stuff, it’s not good, it’s very unhealthy. 

Pls, pls, if you feel like your relationship might be bordering into something where you feel pressured to cater to your partner in ways you’re uncomfortable with out of fear that they’ll have a breakdown, talk to someone. Anyone. A therapist, a friend, a trusted adult, anyone. This is fiction, and it isn’t healthy, nor good

Pairing - Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Warnings - NSFW, unhealthy relationship, dubcon, co-dependency. 

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/2hfoyc7ve6xM4ZEiNIiU1B?si=w7PXedqHQPqUFPQTDcEYuA

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Needy

When Izuku sees another man talking to his girlfriend (it could be anyone, a store clerk, your coworker, the guy delivering pizza, your brother for christsake) he gets so incredibly needy. 

Pulling at your clothes, whining when you have to leave for work in the morning, clinging to you like a child and refusing to let go.

He makes you late for work sometimes, working himself up when he wakes up in bed to find you getting ready in the bathroom, stumbling to your side and draping his arms around you before begging you not to leave. Acts like a petulant baby while you try to make coffee, grabbing your mug and putting it somewhere out of reach with a frown (if you can’t make coffee, you can’t leave. he knows that’s not how it works but he doesn’t want you to go, Izuku’s willing to try anything to get you to stay), his eyes so hurt and upset when all you do is huff and grab another mug from the cupboard.

Izuku holds you too close when he gets jealous, almost crushing you in his grip when he comes up and hugs you while you’re paying the delivery guy, glaring over your shoulder to make it clear that you’re his. When you’re talking to your brother, Izuku clings to your hand, pulls you into his lap, tries to touch (sometimes inappropriately) so much that you find yourself annoyed with him, batting him away so you can have a conversation with your brother.

And that hurts Izuku even more, feeds the flames of his jealousy until they’re an all-consuming fire of bitterness and insecurity.

The man is sure to swing by your office on his lunch breaks, bringing you your favorite foods to show you how good he is to you, even sitting and eating with you like a good boyfriend. He makes sure to be overly affectionate, holding up his chopsticks to your mouth, cooing at you to open so he can feed you, giving you a peck on this lips after you take a bite. If he finishes his own food before you do, Izuku spends the rest of lunch kissing at your neck, occasionally stopping to rest his head against your shoulder like a sleepy toddler. 

One time, your coworker had passed by the break room, and made eye contact with you while Izuku was trying to suck at your neck with his arms wrapped around your shoulders. It made you blush so hard, and you couldn’t talk to that coworker for at least a week. Obviously, that’s always Izuku’s goal with such overt PDA whenever he stops by your office.

It’s hard not to get short with him, shrug him off or let you irritation show in your voice when you tell him to give you some space. Izuku takes that personally, somehow wiggles himself even closer while pouting and trying to make excuses for why he needs to be in your space.

When you do snap, raising your voice a bit at your boyfriend and telling him you’d like to watch the movie alone, Izuku rears back from your body, eyes wide and breathing hard, as if you’d physically struck him. You don’t feel guilty though, he’s been hounding you all week, never giving you room to breathe, initiating sex every single night just so you can feed his craving for your touch.

He leaves the bedroom, sulks off to the living room with his tail between his legs, letting you finally take a breath.

You only finish an episode or two before his back, clutching at his sleeves, tears in his eyes, sniffling and looking so small. He’s past 6′, a full grown man, and yet he’s shrinking in on himself so much that he looks far shorter than you.

“Are you mad at me?” 

And of course you aren’t, not really. But you’re a full grown adult, and it’s not healthy for Izuku to be so dependent on you, so clingy and needy and possessive.

“I’m not mad Izuku, I just wanted some space.” You sigh.

“You’re ignoring me.” And his tears hit full force, bubbling over and running down his cheeks, and your heart drops.

He’s manipulating you, always does. You’re not stupid, you know this isn’t a good relationship - Izuku’s dependent and jealous of anyone who isn’t him, and you enable that behavior, don’t do enough to curb it. But he’s a full grown man, you aren’t his mom. 

Izuku doesn’t agree.

“’M sorry mommy, I just want to be close to you... please don’t make me leave.” And he looks so pathetic, so desolate standing there in the doorway, cheeks wet and red from crying.

A beat passes while you war with yourself.

But you can’t ever seem to uphold your own boundaries.

“C’mere, it’s okay.”

And he’s by your side in a flash, climbing onto the bed, face-planting into your chest, his hands desperately petting at your neck and hair as if he’s trying to soothe himself. It’s an awkward position, but it’s one that he’s comfortable with. you know trying to encourage him to put his face anywhere else would result in a giant fit.

He’s crying heavily, tears soaking your shirt, mumbling about how he’s sorry, how he needs you, how you’re making him sad and feel so unloved.

You feel a little bit guilty, even though you know you shouldn’t 

Stroking his hair, you making shushing sounds, trying to calm him. “Shhh shhh shh, it’s okay Izu. I love you, you’re okay.”

“But I’m not!” He cries, head lifting, fixing you with a pouty glare. His eyes are puffy and red, he’s biting his lip, and he looks like a man again, angry at you. “You’re getting tired of me and you don’t want to date me anymore.” Izuku’s lip wobbles, and then he’s burying his face back into your chest unhappily.

“Izu... no baby...” You start. “I love you so much, I’m not breaking up with you.”

Although, maybe you should. 

The man shakes his head, and you want to huff at his childish display, but you know he’s sensitive, know he’s a bit more emotional than most, always has been.

“You don’t love me. You keep talking to other guys, and you won’t spend time with me anymore. You don’t even want to have sex with me, I know you don’t, I can tell.” He accuses.

That’s not the truth at all, and part of you knows it. He’s good at fucking you, knows how to play your body like the most treasured instrument. Izuku’s so enthusiastic, so eager to please, going down on you with determination to make you writhe and scream on his tongue. When you pull him away, he’s blushing, panting, almost dizzy from the rush of making you cum.. 

“Tell me it feels good. Did I do it right? Did I make you cum?” and you’re nodding your head, pussy still pulsing lazily from the aftershocks.

He always grinds himself against the bed, and it must feel good because by the time he pushes inside, he’s barely able to stop himself from cumming at the oversensitive squeeze of your cunt.

But he always makes sure to make you cum one last time before he finds his own release.

And it’s not true that you won’t spend time with him, or that you’re always talking to other guys. You hardly talk to anyone anymore, Izuku even finding problems with your female friends (”They aren’t good for you, I bet they’re talking about you behind your back. I mean, look how easily they talk about that one girl when she's not hanging out with you all.”)

“Izuku, you’re being a dumb baby, get up here.” Sometimes the only way to shut up his insecurities is to take control, so you do. Tugging on his hair until he pushes upward, you find his mouth, kissing him deep.

When you pull away, eyes closed, lips warm from how intently Izuku kissed you back, you can feel your boyfriend hovering, mere inches away from your face.

“Show me you love me. I want.... I want you to show me mommy. Make me feel loved, please?”

Ah, so that’s how he wants you.

When he gets angry, upset with you, Izuku resorts to name calling. not the vicious, cruel, bullying kind. No, he calls you mommy, expects you to take care of him, make him feel good and shower him in love ‘til he cries, until he doesn’t have to doubt you.

You always do whenever he calls you mommy. There’s an underlying threat whenever he insists on the dynamic, a simmering malice that you can barely pick up on. A little bit of you is... almost afraid. But if you’re quick to adapt to the role he wants you to play, as you always are, nothing comes of that hint of hostility hiding beneath his cry-baby cover-up.

“Turn over then baby.” You tell him, pushing at his chest.

He does so easily, watching with wide eyes as you rise to your knees, beginning to strip seductively, starting with your shirt.

“Keep your eyes on mommy, want you to watch.”

“Okay.” He breathes, a hand falling to his crotch, squeezing at the quickly-developing bulge there.

You allow it for now, more focused on swinging your hips, bringing your shirt over your head sexily, letting it mess up your hair as you tug it off before throwing it off the bed. 

Shimmying your bottoms down, you leave your panties on, shifting to lean against one hip to pull your bottoms the rest of the way off, pointing your toes as you bring them past your feet.

Izuku’s eyes follow the garment, before flicking back to your panties.

They’re nothing special, just simple cotton underwear that keeps you covered, but Izuku thinks you look hot in everything, anything.

“Mommy... want you bad. ‘M hard, please-please fix it.” He whines, bucking his hips up into his hand.

You swat at his hand, and he yelps a little before looking at you with confusion.

“No touching, only mommy gets to do that.”

Izuku nods so quickly his neck pops, which makes you smile a bit. When he’s not being needy or clingy, he’s cute. It’s what drew you to him in the first place, what reeled you in.

You start by running a hand over his clothed chest, dragging fingertips over his nipples, watching as your boyfriend puts his hands above his head and lays back, eyes fixed on you.

Hands hook around the waistband of his sweatpants, beginning to slowly drag them off his body. You press them down hard over his bulge, and your boyfriend stutters out a breath.

His shirt gets pushed up to his face, where you hold it above his mouth.

“Open up baby boy.”

He opens his mouth, and you stuff the hem in, telling him to bite down. He does.

You duck down a bit to lick at his chest, laving over his nipples with the flat of your tongue just to feel the man jump a little, arching his back to press his chest further into your mouth.

But you were only here to tease, so you pulled away , running a hand down his abdomen so you could trace a finger up his hard cock.

It was easy to get him worked up, tapping two fingers against his shaft, lightly giving his balls a squeeze, scratching at his thighs with your nails.

Izuku was getting his shirt wet, whining around the fabric, bucking his hips into you touch, trying to entice you to stroke his entire shaft instead of teasing.

You quickly put a stop to that with a hand pressing down against his hipbone, pinching the skin there to make it clear that you didn’t want him to move.

Teasing a bit more, you leaned down, blowing cool air across the tip of his cock to watch the man jump, eyes flying open at the sensation. When you did it again, following the movement with attaching your mouth around the head and suckling, Izuku’s eyes rolled back in his head, toes curling.

He was moaning behind his shirt, trying to say something, but you were too preoccupied with digging your tongue into the slit, slurping at his cock like it was a piece of candy.

Your hand finally closed around his length, giving him a light, quick stroke before letting go, popping your mouth off his cock to lick at the sides, closing your mouth over the tender, barely-there veins and giving them a quick suck.

Izuku choked out a loud moan, and you looked up to find him staring at you, pupils dilated, breathing hard through his nose.

He was wanting you to hurry up.

Even though you were supposed to be in charge right now, Izuku still held the power.

You gripped his shaft again, rubbing the velvety skin between your fingers and palm, before slowly beginning to jerk him off. It was too dry, too rough though, and you know Izuku wasn't fond of that, so you stopped a moment to gather spit in your mouth.

“Izu, watch baby.” You told him, making sure he was looking down at you before you opened your mouth, letting your saliva slowly drool out and onto his cock.

The man looked like he was going to burst.

You did that a couple more times, telling your boyfriend to watch each time.

Now thoroughly wet, you gripped him tight again, resuming your leisurely pace.

“Izu baby, if you want to cum you gotta ask.” You say gently, hand speeding up around his length.

Izuku groans, throwing his head back onto the pillows, letting the wet hem of his shirt fall from his mouth. “Can I... can I cum mommy? Please? I-I need to cum.”

You stay quiet, wanting to push him a little more, hand barely moving around his cock, but your grip tight and slick.

His face is all red now, the tears from earlier dry on his cheeks. “Oh mommy, please let me cum, you feel so good. ‘M so clo-se! Please, please-”

Twisting your hand around the tip before letting go, you watch his cock bob, twitching, so red and hot. The veins on the underside are pulsing, Izuku’s balls drawing up, his stomach tensing as he struggle to hold back, struggles to be a good boy.

You know he loves this - loves when you make him wait, when you make him beg.

“You don’t sound like you really want it ‘Zuzu, I don’t know if I should let you.” You’d learned over time what he wanted when he got like this, what you were supposed to do to make him happy.

Izuku wanted you to be a bit mean, to tease and tease and not let him cum.

He let out a wail, squirming against the sheets, hands still obediently above his head, although they opened and closed shakily as if he wanted to grab onto something, probably you.

“No, ohhh, mommy I do, I want it s’bad!

Shaking your head makes Izuku whine, his hips thrusting into the air desperately before they stilled.

“Please... You make me feel so-so good mommy. I love you so much. just wanna cum...”

And his voice sounds so broken, all raspy and breathless, so you relent.

You strip his cock hard and fast, the wet sound of your hand around his length clicking around the room as Izuku almost screams at the sudden stimulation.

He jerks against the bed, thrusts up into your hand, you watch his abdomen ripple and his thighs tense and-

You let go of his cock right as he starts to cum, and Izuku lets out a wounded cry. His hands fly to his aching cock to rub himself through his orgasm, ease the tingling and the throbbing as his cock jerks, but you’re faster. His wrists are grabbed, and you pull them to your chest, ignoring the eyes looking at you pleadingly. Your own eyes are focused on his cock, globs of cum oozing out of the tip, running down the sides, his cock twitching and moving as if it had a life of it’s own.

“MOmmy no!” The man cries, but it’s useless now, his orgasm’s already been ruined.

“Shh ‘Zuzu, you’re okay. Mommy loves you.” You soothe, moving to his side so you can give him an awkward hug, his hands flying to clutch at you as soon as you let go of them/

“Mm, love you, love you mommy. Love you so much.” He sniffs, his hands pulling you to him so tight that you almost lose your balance.

You give him a pat on the shoulder, before trying to pull away, stopped by his firm grip. “Baby, let mommy go so I can take care of you.”

The man sniffs once more, pressing himself to you tightly with a wet kiss to your neck before relenting, letting you sit up.

A timid smile graced your lips as you shuffled down again, attention back on his cock. 

It was even wetter now, cum barely dribbling out the tip, some of it on your boyfriend’s lower tummy, some of it slipping to his balls. His legs were spread, and you’d be surprised if some of the whiteish liquid hadn’t dripped down his taint.

Gently, you started rubbing his thighs, soft little circles meant to soothe and calm. 

You spent a fair amount of time doing that, ten minutes, fifteen, then twenty, laying your head on Izuku’s knee as you lost yourself to the mechanical movement.

But then his leg jerked, shaking you to the present and out of your thoughts.

His cock was hard again.

He was looking down at you with big, expectant eyes, watching your every move like a cat watching a mouse. You were supposed to be in charge, but you never truly felt like it. 

“Pretty boy... you’re so pretty, know that?” You cooed, reaching up to start sliding your hand along his length, the texture slick and somewhat sticky.

Izuku moaned. “Not-not as pretty as mommy... You’re the prettiest. Love you...” He trailed off, obviously wanting you to say it back.

“I love you too Izuku.” And then it was back to teasing, rubbing at his cock before gripping him tightly, squeezing at the base, playing with his balls, fondling the soft skin.

He was getting impatient.

“Mommy, I wanna fuck you.” Izuku whined, his eyes tearing up, already shuffling so he could sit up.

You were tired, but you figured that he might as well. Telling him no might lead to a big fight, and you’d be back where you started, Izuku accusing you of the unforgivable offense of no longer loving him.

Nodding, you let go of his cock.

Within seconds, you were on your back, your boyfriend pushing and pulling at your limbs until they were where he wanted them.

“Oh, look at mommy, look at this.” the man sighed, pulling your panties to the side to reveal your slit, already glistening. “All for me, right? Just me?”

“Mm-hm.” You reassured him, jolting a bit as his fingers started to slide against your folds, before rushing to dip one inside.

He was often too eager with this stage, wanting to fuck you now. But you endured, wincing a bit at the slight sting as he began pushing in and out, dipping down to mouth at your neck.

Green curls tickled your skin, and you latched onto them, tugging a bit when he pushed another finger inside, impatient.

“Sorry, I just-just wanna feel-wanna fuck you, you’re.... I love you.”

He couldn’t stop himself from telling you every other second, adding a third finger, scissoring them inside you a bit too fast for it to be comfortable.

But then they were gone, and he was lining himself up.

“Be gentle-be gentle-!” You cautioned, words cut off with a small gasp as he pushed inside, only half listening.

He was average, definitely not the biggest you’d ever taken, but thick enough to have your eyes fluttering shut with each rock of his hips against your body. 

You still had your hands buried in his curls, Izuku lifting his head so he could kiss you on the mouth, wet and warm and hungry for every ounce of affection he could pull from you.

It didn’t take long for him to find his rhythm, thankfully not hammering into you, just thrusting quick and short, barely pulling out before seating himself balls deep again.

And it took even less time for him to start moaning about his impending release.

“Mommy, fuck, you feel amazing, I’m so close.”

You were on the pill, but Izuku knew how much you didn’t like him cumming inside. It felt weird, and you hated the cleanup, and it was just a general mess you’d rather avoid.

“Izu...oh pull-pull out baby, don’t cum inside mommy.”

His eyes fix you with a stern glare, as stern as he can manage after being teased and having his orgasm ruined and teased again until he cried. But then he softened, burying his face into your neck, whining quietly.

“No, no, nuh-uh mommy-y, wanna-wanna cum inside. I wanna cum inside mommy, I’m-I’m gonna cum inside mommy.”

His thrusts faltered, becoming jerky and quick and entirely focused on his own pleasure as little moans and gasps punched out of his throat. “Wanna cum, wanna cum, wanna cum-!” He cried, humping against you like an inexperienced virgin.

His load gushed into you like a flood, and you barely thought to wince before you were bumming yourself, limbs twitching erratically as you rode out the waves burning through your body.

It takes you a few minutes to come down, Izuku’s bigger body draped across your form as he tried to even out his breathing, gulping in air as if he’d just finished a marathon.

You felt irritated at him, that he had cum inside, at how he always bulldozed past what you wanted. 

A small part of you knew that this wasn’t.... it wasn’t okay. He was breaking your boundaries, and the unending reliance and worship made it hard for you to tell him no.

It felt good though, having someone tell you that you’re the reason that they woke up every morning. That they couldn’t live without you, how you were their everything, their one and only. He lifted you up, praised you and made you feel wanted and needed.

Your relationship was a pot of water being brought to a boil. You knew it was happening, you knew it wasn’t good, but the water felt warm. The sting of it’s heat was welcome for now, even though you knew that it would end in nothing good.

Even if you wanted to get out, how would you? Izuku kept such a tight grip on you, even now, his arms holding you close, his bodyweight crushing you.

He was just so needy.

And you were willing to give.

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes  x fem!reader - Chapter Five

chapter four - Chapter Five: Come A Little Closer - chapter six

Series Masterlist

Plot: As the hunt continues for Dr. Nagal and the super serum, Y/n learns the ugly side of being a superhero while also finding herself drawing closer to Bucky.

Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, fluff, language, description of injuries, unwanted touching, blood, character death (minor), anxiety, *cue Start of Something New from High School Musical playing in the background*, idiots in their feelings getting interrupted a lot, dancing Bucky. did I mention feelings?

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: So this is semi rushed because I didn’t have as much time to work on it as I typically do but hopefully it still holds up. I’m currently in a stupor right now after today’s episode and trying to plan out where the rest of this goes, exciting and nerve wracking lol. 

----

Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party and stay out of trouble. Those were Sharon’s instructions. Not only did she know how to throw a party but the Madripoorians knew how to enjoy themselves. The pomp and circumstance didn’t match New Orleans by a long shot, but they sure as hell threw themselves into it.

Sharon was in charge of asking around to see if anyone had any information on Wilfred Nagal while we were stationed at the bar. After Sharon’s talk, I was nursing a glass of whiskey trying to blur the various scenarios she’d put in my head. Each step we’d taken so far had landed us somewhere more dangerous. Within days we’d gone from an impromptu fight with Super Soldiers to breaking Zemo out of prison to a shootout in the streets of Madripoor. The deeper we got, the higher the risk. I’d never thought of Sam’s job as easy, but I could have never understood how difficult it was until I was doing it with him.

I looked over to Sam, Bucky and Zemo who were doing the exact opposite of what Sharon had told us to do. They couldn’t have looked more out of place. They looked like a bar joke; a superhero, a 100 year old assassin and an escaped Sokovian convict walk into a bar…

“Have any of you ever stepped foot in a club?” I asked, leaned up against the side of the bar. The three of them looked lost, causing me to roll my eyes, “Dance, drink, do something!” 

“Excuse me,” a masculine voice that didn’t belong to anyone in our group said from behind me, I turned and faced his presence, “It’s a crime that someone as beautiful as you hasn’t been out on that dance floor tonight. Care to join me?” Was it a cheesy line? Extremely so. But blending in meant blending in. “Why not?” I downed the last of my whiskey and allowed him to take my hand and lead me into the middle of the action.

The center of the room was packed body to body, filled with people innocent moving to the house music to those grinding against one another in the most sinful of ways. The handsome stranger put his hands on my waist, I placed mine loosely around his neck and we began to dance. There was enough space between us that it wasn’t uncomfortable and I found myself actually enjoying myself. But the longer the song went on, the more the guy’s hands started to wander. It started with a few circles in my hips that I wasn’t a fan of to rubbing up and down my sides, when they trailed around my back and down to my ass was when I wriggled out of his grip. “C’mon sweetheart,” he shouted over the music, “It’s a party, lighten up.” I was fully prepared to tell him exactly what I thought of men like him when a gloved hand grabbed his shoulder roughly, I looked to my side to see the body belonged to Bucky. “You’re done, pal.” The creep was inches shorter than Bucky and couldn’t match his intimidating steely stare. He put up no fight and simply backed away in fear, bumping into a few people on his way out of the main room. Bucky moved in front of me to act as some type of shield in case he was stupid enough to come back, “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” I assured him, “You didn’t have to come over, I can handle myself, y’know.” “I know you’ve got no problem telling people off,” he smirked, “But I couldn’t help myself. That kind of stuff doesn’t set well with me.” “Well, thank you,” I said, “But you’ve made one fatal mistake, Barnes.” His brows knitted together in confusion as I smiled, “You’re out on the dance floor with me.” I watched as he connected the dots, “No, no, no…” “Yes, yes, yes,” I contested, lightly tugging on his non-metal arm as he started to walk away, “You need to blend in and there could be another handsy creep nearby, so consider it a public service.” His 1940’s origins wouldn’t allow him to leave a woman by herself in a potentially uncomfortable situation, this much I knew. With a heavy sigh that I could practically hear over the loud music, he met my eyes. “I don’t know how to dance to this, it doesn’t even sound like music to me.” I rolled my eyes, “If only you had someone to teach you…Give me your hands,” he offered me his flesh one, “Both of them.”

He defeatedly put out his gloved metal hand and I took hold of them both, carefully placing them on my hips. They hesitantly held onto me as if maybe I didn’t want him touching me despite the fact that I initiated it. I watched him to make sure he was okay with me positioning us, his eyes stayed glued to where his fingers rested. Not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was, I settled my hands on his broad shoulders. Receiving no arguments from him, I continued moving us. We looked too much like middle schoolers in the middle of a gymnasium with all the space between us. I took a step towards him to shorten the distance, still watching him to make sure he was okay with what I was doing.

“Don’t focus on perfect steps,” I called over the noise, “Just try and feel the beat.” I took a step to the side, pulling Bucky along with me clunkily. His eyes were locked on the floor watching our feet as I began to alternate steps to the beat. I placed a finger under his chin and brought his line of vision up to meet mine, “Stop thinking so much.” I picked up the rhythm again and began to sway my hips a little with each movement I made, trying to take my own advice. Bucky looked like he didn’t know what to do, this was so far from any type of dancing he’d ever taken part in. But the more he felt me loosen up, the more his body started to feel less rigid. Where I’d been guiding us, Bucky met me and took the reins and started to move us. The heat I felt from his hands through our mutual layers of fabric sent tingles up my sides. We’d unconsciously moved closer to each other, our chests brushing with each movement. I peeked up at Bucky through my eyelashes under the pretense of making sure he was still comfortable, but I lost myself once I got there. His normally bright blue eyes had darkened significantly as he looked down on me. It felt like a shot of adrenaline straight down my spine while simultaneously making my knees weaken. I dared to slide my hands down from their resting position on his shoulders to his thickened biceps, giving me something to hold onto. It set off a chain reaction of his hands still lightly holding onto my waist to tighten, putting my body fully in his control. He started to guide my hips in figure eights, his heated gaze flicking between the motions and my eyes. With a shockingly little amount of hesitation, I snaked my arms to wrap around his neck pulling us what a few days ago would have been defined as too close. Now as I drowned in his blackened, dilated orbs and felt each breath he took against me, it didn’t feel nearly close enough. I found myself craving as much of him as I could get. Something had taken over both of us and I didn’t want it to loosen its hold.

“Hey,” Sharon’s voice flooded my ear from behind, “I found our guy, let’s go.” As soon as I felt her leave to go fetch the others, Bucky and I ceased our movements. Our chests pressed into one another as we panted, his pouty lips parted with each breath he drew. I swallowed harshly as I struggled not to notice how tempting they looked, trying to focus on anything else. The shine of a light layer of sweat down his neck, the sharpness of the jawline I suspected I could cut myself on, the scent of his cologne enveloping me, the pressure of his thumbs pressed into my hipbones, the way his dilated pupils sent a wave of heat through me…Bucky was all I could see or feel and I didn’t want it to end.

“W-we should…We should go,” I stumbled over myself, still unable to look away.

“Yeah,” he answered, breaking our stare only for a second to look down at my lips. I had to force myself to unwrap my arms from his neck, he immediately followed and let go of my waist. I wanted to grab his long, slender fingers and slide them back in place, but stopped the urge in its tracks. Now was the time to get to work, no matter how inconvenient of a time it had come at.

——

In the early hours of the morning, after Sharon had gotten everyone out of her gallery, we departed for the shipping yard Nagal was supposedly at. Awkward wasn’t a strong enough word to describe how Bucky and I were acting around each other. We’d barely said two words to one another, averting our eyes anytime they met. Something had happened out on that dance floor and we were both determined to ignore it.

“Madripoor could give New York a run for its money,” Sam commented as we walked between shipping containers.

“They know how to party,” Zemo responded, he’d spent plenty of his evening out on the dance floor demonstrating his off-beat moves.

“With that bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving,” Sharon said as she guided us, using the coordinates she had on her phone. I followed her, relieved to have a little extra feminine energy around. “All right,” she stopped in front of a unit, “He’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagal but hurry, we’re on borrowed time.” We each took an earpiece she offered.

“I’m coming with you,” I said, immediately turning on my heel to block my brother’s argument, “I’m of better use out here if there are any problems. Let me do my job, Sam.” 

He took a deep breath and blinked, silently conceding to me. “Just stay safe,” he urged.

Inevitably, I met Bucky’s eyes that were already trained on me. He didn’t need to voice any of his concerns, they were all etched on his face. “I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to reassure both men that I could handle myself. I broke from the group to head off with Sharon, falling in step with her. 

“Hey, Sharon, you sure this is the right one? It’s completely empty,” Sam’s voice came through our comms. “Positive, it has to be,” she answered as we hurried through the yard, “How good are you and those hands in combat?” “Energy blasts, force fields, levitation,” we turned a corner and ducked behind a container, “Tell me what you need.” She threw a hand out to stop me from going any further, pressing a finger to her lips after. She peeked out from behind the unit and quickly hid again, “Guys, we’ve got company.” “What do we do?” I whispered.

Sharon raised the hood of one of her jackets and looked around us, spotting and grabbing a small metal pipe. “We buy them some time.” I nodded firmly, creating a ball of energy with my hands and waiting for her signal. When she darted out, I followed and we stealthily snuck up on the three bounty hunters nearby. Sharon began brutally attacking them with the pipe while I focused on throwing a blast at one of them, he fell to the ground unconscious. The two that Sharon had been taking on kept getting up after her beatings, I levitated one of them and threw him against a container.

“Every bounty hunter in the city is here, we gotta go!” she said into the comms, turning to me after, “Watch yourself, these people fight dirty.” As soon as the words had left her lips, another hunter appeared. He came towards us with  large knife, trying to tackle Sharon and forgoing me. I used my energy to shove him backwards, giving Sharon time to form a plan of attack. She ran towards him as he rose and twisted his arm, body slamming him to the ground and wrenching the knife out of his hand. She didn’t waste time in stabbing him in the back, quickly throwing the bloodied knife at another approaching hunter who was now trying to pull the weapon out of his forearm. Sharon kicked him into a container just as burly arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms at my sides. I kicked and flailed as he lifted me off the ground before moving to slam me facedown, I created a force field just in time and the two of us bounced off it and landed on his back. The second his grip loosened, I levitated out of it and landed on top of one of the shipping units. With an outstretched palm, I raised the wriggling man to my level and threw him across the ship yard. Below me, Sharon had a struggling hunter trapped between her legs and was choking him. I watched the man wheeze as he desperately tried to get her off of him and regain air. When his flailing began to cease, I was unable to watch the life drain from him and turned away.

A bullet flew past my head and I dropped to my belly, spotting a bounty hunter below firing a machine gun aimed where I’d been standing. When Sharon jumped out and kicked him in the back, his attention turned to her and he slammed her back against a shipping container. She pulled the barrel of his gun up and he fired a round in the sky as she held him off. She grabbed a knife stuck out of the waist of his pants and stabbed him, using his body as a shield as another hunter fired at her. I created a force field around her, allowing her to get safely behind a container to plan her next move. Pulling out the knife again, she nodded at me and dropped the corpse as I dropped my energy. She stabbed the guy lurking around the corner of the container before firing a fatal shot. I watched one last hunter come around to where she had just been standing, waiting for her to come around. I raised him in the air and flicked my fingers towards him, the gun dropping from his hands before I slammed him into another unit. After sweeping the area to make sure nobody was left, I floated down to where Sharon stood trying to catch her breath.

“We gotta go,” she panted as we ran back in the direction of the shipping container that held Nagal.

We weaved through the unit quickly, landing in the doctor’s hidden lab. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here,” Sharon announced.

The sudden sound of a gunshot made us all jump, Sam and Sharon running to apprehend Zemo who had just fatally wounded Nagal. “What did you do?” Sharon trembled.

Bucky reached out to grab my arm and pulled me behind him, shielding me from any further attack. Just as my hand had nervously sought out his forearm, a sudden explosion threw us backwards. We harshly hit the floor, a symphony of groans escaping us all. Bucky and I had gotten separated as we’d flown and I blindly reached around for him, for Sam, anybody. “Anybody see Zemo?” Sam’s voice came through my ear.

I rose to my knees and started pushing myself up, my body screaming at me to stop. Bucky raised me up the rest of the way before pulling Sam and Sharon to their feet as well. We’d barely gotten our footing when a second explosion hit, this time from the chemicals in the lab rather than an attack. Luckily, we had gotten out before we’d been injured further. I stood behind Sharon, my head on a swivel trying to find the culprits of the ambush. “All right!” Bucky yelled, “Wait for my signal!” He hadn’t even finished speaking when Sam started shooting towards a pack of bounty hunters and taking off on his own. “Damn it!” Bucky came out from around the corner of the smoking unit and started firing at the men while Sharon and I ran around to the back where Sam was. “Can you create a force field?” Sharon shouted at me over the gunfire. “If I do, whatever bullets we fire will stay in it with us,” I shouted back at her, ducking below the barricade we now had for ourselves and next to Sam. The three of us crouched down and I began shooting out balls of energy towards each incoming bullet, deflecting each one away from us.

“And you like living here?” Sam yelled at Sharon.

“It’s not terrible!” she replied, popping up and down behind the fallen piece of metal giving us protection.

Bucky came down from his position to join us, “I thought we were gonna go left!” “You went the wrong way!” Sam stopped firing to berate him. “I was clearing the way!” Bucky argued. “Really? Right now?” I yelled.

“I came out first, you were supposed to follow me!” “And where are we now?!” “Guys, not the time!” Sharon attempted to quell their petty argument, dropping behind the barricade when her gun was out of bullets. I tuned the fighting out as I worked on redirecting the bullets. The blue energy streamed from my hands, my reflexes quick and my mind never more focused. One hunter loaded his machine gun and aimed it at me, as soon as the ammo started flying I used my energy to shove them back his way before levitating him and slamming him into a shipping unit. It was only for the split second he was suspended in the air after the hit that I caught the sight of the bullets lodged in his chest and his head cracked open from the power of my hit. He limply fell to the ground, his eyes still open yet cold and hollow.

I had killed a man.

The shock took over my body and I quickly absorbed the energy back into my body immediately. I stood there unprotected as I stared at his corpse, ripe with life a moment ago and now devoid of anything. If it hadn’t been for Sam shoving me down behind our barricade, I would have stupidly continued to leave myself exposed in horror of what I’d just done. 

Another explosion kept us down, we hesitantly peeked over the shards of metal to see a fight breaking out. While the mask was new, I knew the coat belonged to Zemo, who was now taking out bounty hunters left and right. Through the flames I could see him shove, flip, shoot and punch. He looked back at us as if to signal that he’d cleared the way to escape. The four of us took the chance and made our way out of the wreckage, sprinting through the maze of shipping containers. 

“Buck!” Sam yelled, opening the nearest unit’s door and using it as a shield while Sharon and I leapt in, avoiding the gunfire. He pulled Bucky in shortly after and closed the door, the attacker having been dealt with.

The container was dark, the only light seeping in from a few cracks in the corners. When a hand grabbed my arm, I shrieked in terror and readied my energy “Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Sam hurriedly announced his presence, “Are you okay?” Was I okay? I had just ended someone’s life, I was the furthest thing from okay. But to reassure him that physically I was fine, I hummed my answer, there were too many words swirling in my brain to say anything more.

We waited a few more minutes until there was no noise and nobody had come for us. Bucky used his super strength to punch the metal doors open, the sound of screeching tires greeting us as a vintage model drove up in front of us.

“Supercharged,” Zemo smiled from the driver’s seat.

“You’re going back to jail,” Sam said.

Zemo sighed, exhausted with Sam’s fixation on placing him back where he belonged, “Do you want to find Karli or not?”

“He’s right, we need him,” Bucky opened the passenger’s side door and climbed into the vehicle, “And there’s two of us and at least twenty of them. Come on.” “Wait, when did it become twenty?” I asked, not yet approaching the car.

“We’ll fill you in on the way,” Bucky answered. “Fine,” Sam begrudgingly agreed, “But if you try that shit again-“ “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Zemo said, somewhat unconvincingly but beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to help and we were beggars. “Well, that was one hell of a reunion,” Sharon shut the door to Sam’s side.

“Come back to the States with us,” Sam offered.

“I told you, I can’t,” Sharon declined, the sadness I sensed in her making a flash of an appearance, “Just get me that pardon you promised me and,” she turned to smile at me, “Keep her alive, I like her.” I put a hand on her shoulder, still a little breathless from the fight. “You do the same.” 

With that, Sharon walked off into the ship yard while Sam said a quick thanks. I walked around to the other side of the car, ignoring Sam and Bucky’s back and forth as I climbed in and sunk into the seat. Even though we were safe from immediate danger, my heart was still racing and I could feel its beat pounding in my ears. I shut my eyes and held my head in my hand as we drove off, the image of the bullet stricken bounty hunter laying motionless on the ground at the forefront of my mind.

——

On the plane, everybody had retired to their separate corners and tasks. Zemo was fixing food in the kitchenette, Sam was on the phone with Torres, Bucky was cleaning his vibranium hand and I was curled up in one of the chairs with unshed tears flooding my eyes. I had never ever wanted to hurt anybody with my powers and in the heat of battle, I had used them to murder someone. I had taken a life and there was no coming back from that. Some innocent part of me that had remained through the trauma I’d seen in my life had been stripped away and I wasn’t going to have it returned. The moment played and played and played in my head, I didn’t think I would ever forget the sight…

I had been blocking out Sam and Bucky’s conversation until I heard the shield come up, or as they were referring to it, the hunk of metal.

“Maybe I made a mistake,” Sam said. “You did,” Bucky immediately agreed.

“Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. Maybe I should’ve destroyed it.”

Bucky paused before answering, “Look, that shield represents a lotta things to a lotta people, including me. The world is upside down, and we need a new Cap, and it ain’t gonna be Walker. So before you destroy it, I’m gonna take it from him myself.” The tears I was trying so hard to withhold unavoidably fell to my cheeks, I was overwhelmed. Anxiety began to fill my body as the day’s events flashed across the inside of my eyelids. It was too much. Too much.

“Y/n,” Sam’s voice across the aisle punctured the bubble of my mind, “You okay?”

“I don’t care,” I whispered, my palm digging into my forehead. “What?” 

“I don’t care,” I exclaimed, leaping out of my seat and turning to face Bucky and Sam, “About the shield, about Walker, about whatever happened on that phone call, about anything. I killed someone today, I actually ended somebody’s life and now we’re just sitting around like nothing happened. I don’t understand how you guys can be so relaxed about any of this when a few hours ago, we were landing bullets in people’s chests!” 

Sam and Bucky, to their credit, were silent as I blew up on them. When I’d finished with more tears down my face than I’d started with and a strained voice, I hurriedly made my way down the aisle and to the bathroom, locking myself in and the world out. My back slid against the nearest wall and my body sank to the floor, I finally allowed myself to sob my sorrow out.

——

Sam and Bucky sat in stunned silence after Y/n had left, only daring to consider speaking when they heard her muffled cries from the jet’s bathroom. Sam’s phone rang, it was Torres calling with information about Donya Madani most likely. He looked over to Bucky, “Someone’s gotta talk to her,” he stated, care and concern laced in his tone, “You and I both know what it feels like to make that first kill.”

Bucky sighed loudly, he knew exactly what Y/n was feeling and wanted to help her, but he wasn’t sure how he could do that. He could barely make it through a therapy session without feeling like he wanted to jump out the window, especially when Raynor started bringing up his dark past. But on the other side of the door was a woman he cared about for reasons he didn’t fully understand and she was hurting, and that was enough motivation for him to get up from his seat and rise to the occasion.

He raised his fist to knock, hovering over the door for a second before he made contact with it. “Hey,” he said, his voice raised so she could hear him, “You wanna let me in?” The silence that followed let him know that wasn’t going to happen.

With his concern growing, he grasped the metal door knob with his metal hand and twisted it till the lock broke and the knob detached. Zemo could take it up with him later, all Bucky could focus on in that moment was Y/n and the river of tears flowing steadily down her face stemming from her puffy, bloodshot eyes. 

——

I took my hands off my eyes when I heard the creaking of metal, looking up to see Bucky holding the now broken doorknob in his hand and watching him discard it on the floor. He entered the room slowly, approaching me with just as much caution and shutting the door as much as he could. The bathroom was small but he still managed to find enough room to slide down next to me, our bodies packed tightly against one another.

We rested in the heavy silence for a moment before Bucky spoke up. “I get it.” When I didn’t respond, he continued. “But he was gonna kill you and if it were my choice, I’d have saved you too.” “Yeah, I know, it was self defense but, Bucky,” I paused to look at him through my tears that were holding firm, “I still killed someone. Bad guy, good guy, it doesn’t matter. He was somebody’s son o-or husband.” “He was a low life, Y/n, and you probably saved a lot more people than you think,” Bucky said, beginning to fiddle with his thumbs like I’d watched him do frequently. “Stop trying to make me feel better about this,” I muttered, sniffling and wiping the wetter side of my face, “You were trained for this kind of thing, you volunteered for the war and knew you’d have to make these kinda calls. I promised myself a long time ago that if I ever revealed my powers, I would only use them for good. Because that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. But after today…” I trailed off and looked down at my lap, resting my forehead against my knees, “I don’t know how to look myself in the mirror.”

The only sound filling the room was the sounds of my trembling breaths and Bucky’s steady ones. I knew he was only trying to help, but I wasn’t sure if there was anything he could say to make me feel better. “You helped save our asses today,” Bucky eventually said, his rough voice low in his chest, “If you don’t want to think about having saved your own life, think about protecting me and Sharon and Sam. Today could’ve gone south real quick and part of the reason it didn’t is because of you. This kind of stuff…it’s not easy. But it gets a little easier knowing that you’re doing the hard stuff to save good people.” I leaned back as he spoke and rested my head against the wall, watching his lips move and try to ease my conscious.  It didn’t help, but it didn’t not help. When joining Sam, I hadn’t thought about the possibility that I would have to make split second calls like the ones I made today. My naivety was my own fault. I knew that the person I’d killed today would have slaughtered  any one of us without a second thought and Bucky was right, I probably saved one of us from dying by deflecting the bullets. The deed would weigh heavily on my mind for a long time, but maybe listening to Bucky was the first step in making peace with it.

I wiped underneath my eyes until they were as dry as they could get, “Thanks, for trying at least.” Bucky sadly smiled, watching me collect myself with a deep breath and a sniffle. “Are you okay?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t crossing any lines but needing an answer, “After the whole scene in the bar?” His demeanor changed quickly, his softened features hardening and his body going stiff once again. He cleared his throat awkwardly and mumbled an ‘I’m fine’ before rising to his feet. I stood up fast enough for the blood to rush to my head but couldn’t find it in me to care. “Bucky,” I said, reaching out to wrap a hand around his vibranium wrist, “Stop.” He listened and robotically turned to face me without actually looking at me. I knew that I could never come close to understanding how traumatic acting as his past alter ego could have been, but I was determined not to let him stew in his feelings longer than necessary. Words may not have been enough in the moment, but any other option was just as risky. Maybe a little risk was what the situation called for. 

I let go of his wrist, my hands awkwardly held in the space between our chests before I surged forward to capture him in a hug. His body only tensed further as I pressed myself against him, his hands at his sides unknowing of what to do. No matter how bad I sensed it was going, I continued nonetheless. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my face close enough to his ear for it to create goosebumps on his neck. 

Internally I told myself to let go, I was probably making him feel wildly uncomfortable. The second I loosened my grip, his flesh arm shot out and wrapped around my waist. With a small smile, I sunk back into the embrace and let myself be enveloped by Bucky once again. His scent invaded me, a mixture of the sweat of battle and whatever cologne had remained on his body from earlier. The attractive scruff he wore brushed the side of my face, sending electric sensations through me. The arm that firmly held him to me made me feel protected, it was the first time on our journey that I’d felt well and truly safe. Bucky shifted so that his cheek was now against the back of my head, pressed into my hair. The act struck a different type of feeling in me than when we’d danced, it didn’t hold the intensity and heat. This was warm and pure, like light itself. Surrounded by him and feeling his warmth radiating through me, I was convinced that I was experiencing a glimpse of heaven.

I couldn’t tell who broke apart first but Bucky’s arm wasn’t yet ready to leave my waist. My hands lost their place around his neck and were forced to slide down to his firm chest. I looked down at their placement, trying not to think too much about what lay underneath.

“You’re not nearly as bad as you think you are,” Bucky said quietly, sparing me a small smirk.

“Neither are you,” I smiled, soaking in the rare softness that we’d been given and wondering why my pulse quickened the second our eyes met. 

A sudden knock on the door startled both of us. “Hey, Torres got intel on Madani, you guys gotta hear it.” Sam’s voice carried through.

Bucky and I instantly separated at the sound of my brother’s voice, him awkwardly putting his hands on his hips and me shoving mine in the pockets of my jacket. Whatever feeling had been in the air dissolved at the remembrance that there were so many other important matters on the other side of the door demanding our attention. Bucky pushed the slightly ajar door open and moved aside to let me out first. 

“What’d you get from Torres?” I asked, pausing outside the bathroom and leaning against the wall. I could feel the heat radiating off Bucky’s body as he stood behind me.

“Madani died yesterday,” Sam answered, reclined in his seat looking stressed, “In Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea. Zemo,” he gestured to the Baron, lounging in his seat, “He’s got a place for us to stay there.”

“Latvia,” I sighed, looking over my shoulder to glance at Bucky, “Here we come.”

——

A few short hours later, the plane’s cabin lights were dimmed and each piece of the foursome was asleep in their seats, except for one.

Bucky sat awake, switching between staring at the ceiling and Y/n’s sleeping form. She had curled up in the chair across from him and went to sleep surprisingly fast. He envied her, his thoughts were going to keep him up all night.

Once he’d gotten both feet on the ground after the Blip, losing Steve and starting his new life on his own, Bucky had recognized that he didn’t want to be alone. He still had the same dream as he had in the ’40’s; to meet a nice girl, settle down and raise some kids. Now in modern times, everything was so much more complicated than it had been then. He’d tried online dating, failing miserably and finding the whole process unnatural. He had humored Yori and gone on a date with Leah, a waitress at their favorite sushi place, the conversation turning too dark for him to handle. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to meet the mythical One when every avenue left him confused or overwhelmed by the dirty deeds of his past.

Until she came along.

Y/n came into his life unapologetically and in the last minute he would have ever thought he’d meet someone. She had dazzled him from the start, despite his initial annoyance, and had kept him on his toes since their first meeting in the hanger. She held the same level of strength when she was telling him off in the therapy session as she had revealing her broken past. She was the only person in a long time that had been able to make him smile, genuinely smile. Not the kind his therapist told him to flash during his three step process for making amends. Bucky was jaded and cynical about the world around him, but she brought him something that looked a whole lot like happiness. But the biggest and loudest quality of hers was that she cared. She cared for everyone around her, even those that didn’t deserve it. He’d been nothing but snarky to her on their first day together and she’d still rushed to save him when she’d heard he was in trouble. She was making sure that he was alright every chance possible, not because she thought he would slip back into his old programming, but because she simply didn’t want him to suffer. All of it led up to the moment in the bathroom where she had pointed out that he had volunteered for WW2. To anyone else it wouldn’t have mattered why she chose that example, but it was everything to Bucky.

She had chosen to bring up his history as a soldier, not the soldier.

That was the moment where Bucky realized he was falling for her. It finally made sense to him why when he’d held her on the dance floor his skin felt like it was on fire, why he hadn’t wanted to let her go, why her safety had become one of his top priorities. Rather than have something to fight, he now had something to protect.

But Bucky couldn’t forget to fear in her eyes when he’d sought them out in the Madripoor bar. When he had his metal hand wrapped around the neck of the Winter Soldier’s latest “victim.” He didn’t blame her, she’d be insane not to be afraid of him. Yet she was still there for him, trying to help him through his trauma that she was knowledgable on. The thought both hurt and warmed his heart. 

As he watched her sleep, light snores coming from her lips every once in a while and her feet tucked so tightly below her legs he didn’t see how she could be comfortable, he smiled. Even unconscious she could make him smile. Y/n was a new sensation he was still getting used to but damn it all, he loved it and wished they had met under different circumstances. He could have asked her to dinner, brought her flowers, strolled through the city with her…Bucky finally felt relaxed enough to shut his eyes, drifting away and dreaming of the woman who had wormed her way into his heart.

—— We touched down in Riga in the early morning and headed for Zemo’s hideout he had in the city. Even if we were here under unfortunate circumstances, I still tried to take in as much of the city as I could. When was the next time a girl from NOLA was going to have to opportunity to be in Latvia? The four of us strolled down the sidewalk, Zemo talking more to Sam about the remnants of Sokovia than Bucky and I. We hadn’t spoken much since our conversation in the bathroom but he had made an effort to ask me if I was okay after I’d woken up. I wasn’t sure what I was but I knew that when Bucky was around, I felt a little better. 

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” he announced as we approached the stoop of Zemo’s place.

“You good?” Sam asked, only seconds before I could get the same words out.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, already backing away from the group, “I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

I watched him walk back down the sidewalk, fighting the overwhelming urge to follow him and wondering if there was something to it. He may have been a super soldier, but I could still protect him. If there was anything I’d learned about Bucky in the short time I’d known him was that he didn’t have any qualms about running headfirst into a fight. Bucky was also a terrible liar. Those facts were what made me worry the further I watched him head down the road.

When had this happened? When did this man I’d know only a few days become someone I cared so deeply about? Why were all my thoughts beginning to orbit around Bucky? Since the first time we’d actually sat and talked, when I’d opened up to him about my powers and my father, I’d felt something for him. Something that had only started to increase the more time we spent around each other. On the dance floor in Madripoor had been another significant incident, one that had been harder to recover from without acknowledging that there had been some sort of spark. The moment I realized I wanted as much of Bucky as I could get was in the bathroom the night before, when he’d held me in his arms until he was forced to let go. When he’d felt like an oasis in the middle of the nightmare we were in. For all his faults and demons, the man he was rang louder than anything else and had captured my heart in a matter of days.

Shit.

I had fallen for Bucky Barnes without even realizing it.

“Y/n,” Sam interrupted my thoughts, “You coming?”

His beckoning couldn’t have come at a worse moment, as I’d just broken through the barriers my mind had built. “Yeah,” I mumbled, forcing myself to turn away from keeping a watchful eye of Bucky’s departing figure. As it had been with any moment regarding the Super Soldier and I, the world always found a way to remind us there were more important matters at hand.

----

A/N: OH, we’re really in it now...Hope everybody enjoyed, feel free to let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged! 

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale​ @wanniiieeee​ @asoftie4bucky​ @edencherries​ @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ @ttalisa​ @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @rinaispunk​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry​ @voguesir​ @mizz-kraziii​ @okayline​ @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories​ @nicklet94 @intricate-melody​ @aesthethickks​ @stumbleonmywords​ @simplybarnes​ @21bruhs​ @lostinwonderland314​ @superbookishhufflepuff​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @zozebo​ @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998​ @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​ @i-know-i-can​ @x-judyjude-x​

[obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts]

KINDA GROSS BUT ANYONE WITH A UTERUS HAS TO DEAL WITH IT SO FUCK IT

MC having the monster of all periods and all the boys or in the middle of it. And when I say the monster of all I mean it. Everything is happening. Clots, bloating, zits/pimples, PAIN, nausea, heat, anger, emotions going crazy, fatigue, headaches, back pain, insomnia, BLOOD, anxiety, aggression, food cravings, irritability, muscle pains and all the other gross and painful shit we have to deal with every month. How do they survive/react

This personally hits home for me 😔.

Before I was on my birth control, I had periods 24/7, all year. I know it's gross, but at my worst I went through 7 of those overnight pads in an hour. I had to go to the hospital for it (And then proceeded to get called a drama queen by a doctor). My cramps were horrible, and man, I still have bad periods but not nearly as bad as that. This is going to be a bit "gross" (Because despite how comfortable we can be discussing them, and how natural the process is, you can still be a bit grossed out by it. I mean blood by itself isn't bad, but sometimes it's like you give birth to placenta and that's pretty gross) but it's also hella fluffy.

Lucifer.

Very unbothered by periods. Out of any natural body process, it's probably the one that bothers him the least.

He pretty much treats it the same as any other basic need. Every bathroom has toiletries that he's got placed in some neat little box and their medications in any available cabinet.

But that's pretty much all he thought was needed.

When he realizes just how bad your periods are, he's a little under prepared. The household isn't exactly equipped to handle this situation, so he, and a few of his brothers (particularly Asmodeus and Mammon), scramble to gather whatever items might be needed from the various corners of the house.

Lucifer grabs you towels for your bed, in case you're the type to bleed through during the night. He finds you a heating pad, rub-on muscle relief creams, and a multitude of pain meds that exceed the typical Midol relief.

He can get a little peeved about your attitude, but knows that you can't really help it. So he'll grin and bare it, and accepts the fact that you're going to be a bit different until this is done.

Mammon

He's not extremely well-versed in the topic of menstruation.

However, I think this is one of those topics that despite not understanding, he automatically is incredibly accommodating.

There's lots of cuddles, lots of playing with your hair, and a lot of nonsensicle rambling that is mostly comforting (but sometimes headache inducing).

He is a little weird about bleeding through though. Not in a bad "You're disgusting" way, but more of a "I'm extremely confused as to what I'm supposed to do in this situation" way.

Thankfully he becomes pretty quick at just wrapping his jacket around you in public if you do start to leak.

He does think a cold wet rag is the secret to everything lmao.

At least it takes away from the hot flashes!

Leviathan

He might be a little embarrassed when there are obvious signs of a period (like blood or toiletries), but otherwise he handles it normally.

Levi doesn't point out your acne. He doesn't mention when you leak onto his sheets during the night. He won't call you out for being a bit more aggressive then usual (or even crying, because sometimes that's just all you can do).

All he does is just be a silent support. It's a nice break from the others tbh.

Like when you're in the bathroom, turn between feeling like you're going to throw up because your contraction-like cramps are wrecking havoc on your entire body, he'll be beside you. Stroking your back, holding up your hair incase you do vomit, and running around for whatever you need.

Definitely the type who, when you ask him to pick up pad/tampons, grabs every size and brand, puts them in the cart as discreetly as possible, then rushes home in a frenzy.

Satan

Satan is just as irritable during your period as you are lmao.

He's absolutely understanding, sure, but I think he feeds off of anger. So the minute you start getting pissy, he does too.

It's like a sympathy period thing, but uh, more linked to his sin then anything else.

Everyone is absolutely tired of you two squabbling by the end of your cycle.

Someone probably tries to lock one of you away tbh. You two are just extremely annoying.

It's even worse that after every fight you guys just cuddle. Like nothing ever happened. And everyone else is just kinda left there tense as hell because you two were arguing over fucking fruit for no reason.

Asmodeus

He's kinda like a big sister in this situation.

Asmodeus will give you acne treatments, run baths for you (always makes sure you don't worry about cleaning out the tub!), and gives you massages that sometimes get a bit spicy (But he always makes sure you're okay to handle it).

Yeah, I'll say it, Asmodeus isn't scared of period sex.

This is like the one time of the month he actually breaks his "strict" diet and junks out with you.

Cue lots of food photos! And a few that he sneaks of you for his personal folder. Expect to see your rather bloated self as a part of his aesthetically set up phone background. He thinks it's cute!!

A lot of body worship and praise is going down. Between him and Beel it's enough to make your head spin.

Beelzebub

This is like prime Beel time.

Cuddles, food, and massages are his speciality.

(Also not opposed to period sex but tbh he's like, extremely concerned about your well being the entire time.)

He's like, always kneading your muscles and thighs. Whenever you get self-conscious about your pre-period or period body, he'll always be ready to lay down a thick layer of praises that seem almost too good to be true.

Always let's you finish the snacks ❤

He gets you heat and cold packs. Well, tries. Somewhere along the line he gets distracted and tends to come back with cold peas instead of a ice pack. Works the same way, just, uh, food driven.

Beel is extremely calm during this whole thing. He rarely ever gets offended by your emotions or aggression either. Probably just pats your head and walks away when you're getting a bit too much for him to handle.

Belphegor

He is like, the biggest fucking asshole, but like in the funniest way.

Genieunly doesn't care about toiletries or whatever, but he's so blunt about it

(What size pussy kinda guy)

Oh you leaked and bled onto his sheets? Go back bed. Throw a towel over it. He'll sleep on that side if you want.

Absolutely no help to your insomnia btw, unless he's like blessed with magic sleeping powers, you're going to need to stay up with someone else.

Honestly though... he's not the best with handling periods but I think he's extremely casual about it. He doesn't look down on you, or your cycle, an does whatever you ask.

Extremely passive lmao.

[mellowswriting]

Cuddling

**This was the most requested headcanon and I had so much fun writing it! Enjoy!!

Mando: 

There were many things Mando didn’t realize he was missing out on until he met you. Basic things, like a healthy eating and sleeping schedule or having someone to just exist with in his ship. But the first time you curled up against him with your head tucked into his neck and one arm tossed over his chest… well, he was damn glad it was pitch black in the bunk so you couldn’t see how red his face had become.

How had he missed out on this for so long? The skin on skin, the feeling of your heartbeat and slow, peaceful breathing… having you in his arms is absolute heaven.

Once he realizes just how much he loves cuddling you, Mando will pull you against him literally whenever he wants. He loves pulling you into his lap when he’s piloting, especially when you straddle his thighs and just snuggle right into him, chest to chest. The amount of times he’s slung his arm over your shoulder and tucked you into his side while you sat in some cantina makes you automatically slide closer to him without a second thought.

He doesn’t really have a favorite way to cuddle you - anytime he has his hands on you is a good time - but he does particularly enjoy the post-sex, hazy cuddling. Your hands wander in the darkness, your fingers trail down his sternum and over his belly, along his ribs. It almost tickles, but your touch feels so damn good. The warmth of his skin against yours, still sweat slick and sensitive, soothes a need deep inside him to have you close and safe.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Frankie is a very hands on lover. If it isn’t the all-encompassing press of his entire body against yours, he’s at the very least got one hand on you somewhere. He’ll pull your legs into his lap while the two of you are sitting on the couch together, curl one hand over your inner thigh while he’s driving and singing along to the radio in his truck, tuck his hand into your back pocket while you’re out in public together.  

But if he had his way, Frankie would just crush you into his bed every second of every day. He’s the type to wrap his arms around you and tuck one leg between your thighs and just… hold you close. It’s one of the few times where his mind can go peacefully blank, all his worries and stress falls away and the only thing that he can focus on is the warmth of your skin.

Frankie loves either almost or completely naked cuddling. As much skin on skin as he can manage, and this man is in heaven.

He prefers to spoon you, to wrap you up in his arms and bury his face in your hair. He can feel your breathing, every shift of your body in your sleep, and on the nights where he can’t sleep, it’s easy to ground himself with the line of your entire body against his.

Another thing about Frankie? He’s possessive. Not in a demeaning way, but it’s just that… you’re his, just like he’s yours. The boys rib him about it hard, too, but it doesn’t deter him. Frankie will still pull you into his lap and latch those greedy hands onto your thighs or ass with a shrug. No shame with this one.

Javier Peña:

Ugh. This man.

For someone who claims not to love it, he’s an amazing cuddler. He presses kisses all over your shoulder, face, and neck, rubs his hands over your arms and thighs in soothing circles, and just… holds you. Tight and firm against his chest, which rumbles so nicely as he mumbles about anything that pops into his head as he tries to fall asleep.

He grumbled the first few times but once you get situated against him, good luck getting away. The few times you’ve tried to get up to pee or get water always results in him pulling you closer the second you start to wiggle away and almost whining when you finally break free. If you give him a few kisses and promise to come back to him immediately, he’ll let you go. But if you’re gone longer than a couple minutes, he’s coming to find you and drag you back into his bed so he can snuggle you and fall back asleep.

Javier would never admit it aloud let alone ask for it, but he wants you to lay on him. Like, full on, chest to chest, your face tucked into his shoulder and your legs tangled with his. The full-body press of your weight against him is beyond calming and every time you do crawl on top of him, he could just tear you apart. It’s such an intense feeling, it explodes in his chest and all he can do is wrap his arms around you and dig his fingertips into your soft flesh.  

Ezra:

After a long and exhausting day of harvesting, Ezra loves curling up with you. His body is aching, his mind exhausted, and you provide a solace that can’t be found anywhere else. He loves to lay his head on those soft thighs of yours and doze while you read or tinker with whatever metal you’re trying to fix. 

It’s impossible for him not to hold you or be held by you in some way. If you sit down next to him, he’s pulling you as close as possible, as if he’s trying to meld the two of you together, consume you, make you his entirely. 

These are the times that Ezra really feels like he doesn’t deserve you. You’re so...soft. So giving. So gentle. Ezra doesn’t see himself as a good man. The exact opposite, actually. How could he ever deserve so much good? He only whispers those fears to you in the dead of night, when all has settled and the only sounds are the steady whirring of pod’s the air filters and you’re practically on top of each other on the cot only meant for one. You just hold him as he speaks, running your fingers through his curls and resisting the urge to interrupt him. He deserves to get it all out. 

But once he’s done. You whisper your praises right back to him, pausing every few words to kiss him anywhere you can reach; his cheeks, his lips, his neck, his chest. You tell him how much you love him, how admirable his hard work is, how funny he is, how his voice drips like honey with that drawl that gives you shivers. He’ll hold you even tighter, something you didn’t think possible.

Marcus Pike:

PERFECT BOYFRIEND ALERT

However you’re willing to cuddle him, Marcus is there and ready to goooo!!! He lives for those early morning, groggy moments where he’s just woken up and the very first thing he sees is you, your face slack and peaceful with sleep, a bit of drool collecting at the corner of your mouth. If he’s sure you’ve gotten a good amount of rest, Marcus happily kisses you awake and keeps you in bed for as long as possible. It feels so natural, it has from the very beginning.

Marcus is the type who knows what he wants, but his previous heartbreaks have him hesitant in that sureness. The first time he woke up with you on his chest like that had been entirely unintentional. Neither of you had meant to fall asleep, obvious by the fact that he was still in his slacks and you in your jeans, and Marcus didn’t want to intrude or be presumptuous, so he tried to slip away. You woke, of course, and he tried to apologize, but you just smiled at him and said, “You’re so warm. Get back over here.” Marcus was in awe as you began unbuttoning his dress shirt, muttering about wanting him to be comfortable. Once he was down to his boxers and you were down to your tank top and underwear, you just snuggled right back up to him. You rubbed your cheek on his bare chest as you settled in and it took Marcus’s breath away. That was when he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life like this with you.

And he makes good on that every single day.

His favorite place to cuddle is in his bed. The plush mattress and soft blankets make it even more comfortable to lay with you for hours like he wants to. Marcus loves spooning because he can touch you all over; he can hold your hand, rub your thighs, grab onto your ass. Plus it’s the perfect way to wake up when you playfully grind against his morning wood.

But the ultimate position? Your legs over his shoulders, his head leaned back towards your belly. It’s his favorite way to prop his head up to see the television as you lean against the headboard and read a book, the two of you simply enjoying each other's presence and warmth.

Max Phillips:

Fuck, you’re just so fucking warm and soft and Max cannot get enough. His body temperature isn’t frigid, just a few ticks below normal thanks to his undead status, but it’s enough to be able to notice a difference. You warm him up better than any steaming cup of coffee or heavy blanket ever could.

That’s why he straight up lays on top of you. Max ignores your grunts and annoyed sounds as he clambers on top of you and buries his face in your neck. He can hear your pulse, smell the sweet, delicious smell of your blood, and feel your warmth like this. You’ve practically got a purring vampire on your hands like this.

Max loves to feed off of you while he snuggles and I refuse to believe otherwise. He gives you the puppy dog eyes even though he really doesn’t need to beg. The sight of you sweeping your hair off to one shoulder is enough to have him squishing you into the mattress and burying his teeth in your neck.

He’s even more handsy when he’s practically drunk on your blood. Max is 100% gonna try to fuck you while he feeds off of you.

Pero Tovar:

Pero didn’t really know the simple pleasure of curling up with someone he loved. He knew fucking, usually a utilitarian visit to a brothel to ease some of the tension that plagued him. That wasn’t the kind of situation he stuck around to cuddle afterwards. You show him, though.

The first time you turned over to lay your head on his chest, Pero didn’t know what the fuck to do with himself. He kept his hands raised with his elbows propped up on the mattress and stared down at you with his eyebrows furrowed. Eventually he lets his arm settle over your shoulders but that’s as far as he goes, not yet realizing that he can find comfort here.

Slowly but surely, Pero begins to find solace in your embrace and once he learns that it makes you feel safe and loved, he can’t get enough. He craves it, the feeling of your body pressed against his under the blankets of your shared bed, the way you rub his calves with your feet, the contrast of your soft, supple skin against his scarred body.

He’s a nuzzler, especially when he first wakes up. He loves to rub his face against your neck and shoulder, especially since his facial hair makes you giggle and squirm against him. It’s a delightful, bright sound and the perfect way to start his day. It can be difficult to convince either of you to get out of bed to tend to your daily chores. Yes, the firewood needs to be cut and there are clothes that need mending, but a few more minutes spent in each other’s arms won’t hurt, right?

Maxwell Lord: 

Not gonna lie, the first few times you were in Maxwell’s bed was not for soft and sweet purposes and there wasn’t any cuddling happening afterwards, either. No, it was always hot and heavy sex followed by snatching up clothes and leaving with a wink and the promise of ‘see you next time’. It was therapeutic, the mutual stress relief of meaningless sex.

Until it suddenly wasn’t so meaningless.

That first time Maxwell woke up in your bed had been entirely accidental. Both of you were absolutely exhausted before he fucked you into your mattress, so afterwards you were dead to the world. He was only going to close his eyes for a few minutes, but then he woke up with his chest pressed against your back and your hair in his face and why the fuck wasn’t he panicking. He feels like he should be panicking. But instead, the soft rise and fall of your chest was mesmerizing. Maxwell blamed the fact that your breasts were still bared for his greedy eyes and shook it off.

The second time, though? Maxwell found himself needing you there. The last time the two of you had sex, you had left his penthouse with a lingering kiss and a satisfied smile that had pride burning a hole through his chest, but he couldn’t fucking sleep. So when you sighed and swung your legs over the side of his bed, Maxwell’s arms wrapped around your waist and dragged you back to the middle of his huge bed.

“It isn’t safe for you to be walking around at night, you can wait until morning.” But you could see through his convenient excuse right to the vulnerability in those pretty brown eyes. So you laid right back down and couldn’t help but smile when Maxwell’s arm hesitantly fell over your waist. The way you melted into his embrace made Maxwell pull you flush against him and bury his face in your hair.

That morning you woke up to Maxwell getting dressed and what a sight that was. The moment he realized, he left the room and returned a moment later with a coffee from your favorite cafe. He was almost bashful when he shrugged and said he had it delivered so you wouldn’t have to rush out. You weren’t bashful about dragging him back into the bed, though. Ever since then, it was an unspoken and expected comfort.

Maxwell likes spooning. He feels like he’s keeping you safe with his body curled around yours. And if you’re entirely naked against him, he’s even happier. All of that bare skin for his greedy hands…

He also loves laying his head on your chest. You always play with his hair (you’re the only person he lets do that, too) and it makes shivers dance along his skin. Again, bonus if you’re naked but there’s no guarantee that he won’t tease your nipples until they’re pebbled and sensitive.

[blue-bird-kny]

This took way to many days to write for absolutely no reason, but I liked it in the end so please, enjoy~Amanda

Warnings: N/a

Words: 2.4k+

↳{Fluffy first baths together are nothing short of what you’d expect with Inosuke}

The gentle pitter-patter of water droplets drizzling down bamboo shoots and swaying green leaves filled the otherwise quiet space. The welcoming scent of dew and greenery danced through the night air as you overlooked the outdoor bathing area, “absolutely perfect” you thought as your muscles cried in despair. You, along with your team of idiots and sweet Nezuko, had walked miles in search of a home bearing the Wisteria crest, everyone in desperate need of some rest, repair, and (hopefully) lots of delicious food. “Come in, young child, as weary as you may be, your body needs food to begin the healing process” a grainy voice beckoned. An elderly woman, just barely 5 feet wrapped in purple with shimmering silver hair, waited patiently beside the open door, “I think my husband was too excited to greet you all because he got carried away and made far too much food” she continued. “Oh don’t worry, my boys are very capable of eating you out of house and home, especially my boyfriend” you giggled while climbing the wooden steps to meet her.

You walked side by side to the dining room, the smell of beef stew and rice already reaching you, “Thanks again, to you and your husband, we’ve spent weeks running around and I know we desperately needed the break” she chuckled, “No need child, my husband misses the thrill of battle even in his old age, so we are thrilled to have you.” your eyes widened slightly but before you could ask the shorter woman of her husband's past, a loud crash could be heard behind the thin sliding door. Behind its papery protection was a scene that couldn’t be anymore hilarious; wrestling on the floor was an older man, thick and burley with round rims sliding down the bump of his nose, hovering over a wailing Zenitsu whose body was being forced into a backbend with his head held tightly in a choke-hold by the man’s hairy arms. Tanjiro stood beside the duo desperately trying to pull his friend out from under the other, trying to talk over the hefty laughter and screaming, while Inosuke stood cheering the man on as if this were some sort of cage fight.

You could feel the twitch in your eye act up, ready to pull them apart but before you could open your mouth the elderly woman cleared her throat, causing the wild bunch to freeze. Her husband's eyes slowly fell on hers as fear overcame them and as for the other three, they couldn’t help but shiver at the dead set look on yours. “What’s going on here?” the women commanded, her steel set tone sending the group scrambling into seated positions as she prowled into the room- you followed slowly behind her. Tanjiro croaked first, “W-well Mr.Shimura was telling us about his days in the force and he just wanted to show us some of his, uh, moves'' Tanjiro's voice wavered a bit at the end, not sure if ‘moves’ was the right way to describe assault. “Y/n! Please don’t let this man torture me anymore, he’s crazy!” the blonde rushed to your side with teary eyes and a tight grip on your arm. The women pulled her large husband up by his ear, “Don’t worry, you children enjoy your food, my husband,” she tugged on the lobe for emphasis, “and I will be off to bed” she turned to you, “I assume you’ll be able to find the bathing area and your room?” “Of course” you assured. The moment the couple became shadows behind the door, you could hear the wife’s grumbling- you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

Unsettled by the silence, you turned to find all eyes on you, waiting for a reprimand you had no intention of delivering, “Oh ease up, eat before the food gets cold'' a collective sigh could be heard around the table, your hand gentle releasing the part of Zenitsu that was still clinging your clothes. The spot open next to Inosuke was as inviting as the mouth-watering scent of a hot meal that had been calling your name since further down the hallways. Your fingers faintly fell on the tuft of your boyfriend's hair, ruffling them a bit, before diving into your own bowl of rice and soup. While Inosuke felt your small act of affection and craved it a bit more, he only offered a messy smile as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth. 

Ceramic dishes once filled with hand-cooked deliciousness were now cleaned empty, stacked into small towers all across the wooden table in some sort of toppling city. The room was almost empty too, Zenitsu and Tanjiro both eager to wash the wear away and to finally allow themselves to be consumed by uninterrupted dreams, had already taken off for the night. “I’m going to die,” the bloated heap on the floor cried, his duo-toned hair sprawled out around him and his robe strewn on the ground. You laughed, “No, Inosuke, you aren’t going to die” you laid on the carpet beside him, propped up by one elbow. As the man heaved and sighed as if he were going into labor, your nose caught a whiff of something salty and musty and earthy and gross, “I swear if you don’t go shower right now, my eyes are going to melt from my skull” you complained nasally as you pinched your nostrils shut; You were met with only louder moaning and heaving. “C’mon everyone else already-” you stopped yourself short, an idea too good to pass up crossing your mind. “Since everyone else is already tucked away, why don’t we bath together?” before you could even finish the question, Inosuke sat up faster than light, his eyes challenging yours as if saying “Are you playing me?”. “We never get to do anything just us so if you're up for it, I’m down” you concluded slightly smug as he clung to each word you uttered like a puppy waiting for a treat. You stood to leave, crouching down once more to balance your fingers below his chin, forcing him to face you, “But, no funny business”. 

You didn’t even have to look to see Inosuke was following, his second set of steps echoing yours as if they were the thunder that follows lighting; two things equally as powerful, yet relied on the other for strength. Again, you were greeted by the soft flow of water streaming into the natural spring, the brilliant moonlight above lighting the large basin carved from polished rock that sat in the middle of the space. “Turn around” you asked, to which Inosuke surprisingly compiled too with only a tiny grumble. You slid your filthy clothes off layer by layer, the black garments piled together as you tip-toed into the warm water, the steam instantly feeling irresistible on your skin. “I-I’ll close my eyes so you can get in, too” you stuttered, the heavy realization of the intimacy that was to come next, an intimacy that had never been shared before. “Whatever you want, we’ll be naked anyways in the water” Insouke pointed out as he too discarded his smaller pile onto yours, however, you didn’t dare peek before you heard the breaking of water as he climbed in, didn’t dare breathe as he groaned in relief. Slowly, you uncovered your eyes, trained steadily past the demon slayer's face; awkwardly and in unusual silence, you two sat five feet apart, waiting to see who dared to move first.

Well of course it was Inosuke who shuffled through the water first towards you, “You can look at me, ya know” he said with a sort of want in his voice, as if your gaze offered an approval he sought from only you. Whether the pink that painted his skin was from the temperature or the heat of the moment, you couldn’t tell, but you didn’t dwell on it for long because other things piqued your interest. While the number of times you’ve seen Inosuke wear a shirt was almost non-existent, the steam rising from the water altered his scarred chest into something else; it was more chiseled, more tanned, each dip and mark was more perfect, the reflection below somehow glowed in a way that was more than you had every painted Inosuke to be and it took your breath away. “What are ya looking at?” he asked defensively, fidgeting in an almost timid way; it reminded you that you shouldn’t be nervous around him, “You, ya dummy”. He scoffed at your bluntness, grateful to hear the normal bite in your tongue instead of the disgust he feared you’d feel towards him. His stunning pair of green orbs watched as you leaned closer to him, arms stretched as you grew even closer, “What the hel-” he panicked slightly only to be fooled as you grabbed something that was behind him; two bottles waved in front of his face as you teased, “What? Afraid of some soap, piglet?”. He muttered a string of complaints, ‘tease’ and ‘mean’ being the only two you could work out.

You squeezed the white shampoo into your open palm, setting it down somewhere on the edge of the bath, “May I?” you asked, hovering your hands beside his head. He sucked on his teeth before mumbling a raspy “fine”, easing himself between your awaiting limbs. You worked the suds into his scalp, gently massaging his dark roots with the pads of your thumbs before working your way down to bunch his falling strands, lathering them in the floral-scented soap. As you worked to cover every last inch of his scalp in bubbles, Inosuke struggled to keep quiet; his half-lidded eyes fluttered with every circular rub, his mouth slightly agape as he relished in your touch and had to work at suppressing the purrs that threatened to escape his chest like a cat.

“Bend down a little, will ya” you pushed against his head till he was close enough to the water that when he tipped back, his long tresses would be covered. You rinsed his hair gently, taking your time to enjoy this rare chance  with your loved one (along with the funny faces you knew he was making). Inosuke wanted to say something, anything would do really, but he just couldn’t put syllables together as if with every trail your fingers followed, you sucked away his ability to think. You had already rid his scalp from the soap, however, you weren’t ready to let go just yet; you ushered him out of the water so you could use your nails to push the soaked strands back, twirling them into a loose bun at the back of his head. Inosuke was so close, he was sure he’d make it out of this without any weird noises but the subtle scratching against his skin was too much for any man. A low rumble emerged from his throat followed by a relieved sigh, “If I knew all it took to tame this wild boar was a few head scratches, I’d have started a long time ago” you giggled, sliding your palms down the length of his neck to rest on his shoulders, “all done”. His brows furrowed at the weight behind his head and the lack thereof on his back, “It’s a bun” you explained, “Yea, well I feel bald” “Don’t knock just yet, it helps keep your hair from your face when you’re fighting, plus I think you look hot with it” you tightened your hold on him for a second as a blush crept its way onto his skin.

“It's getting late, you can get out if you want, I’m going to wash up” you reached for the same bottle of shampoo, tipping it over to collect its contents, but before the suds could touch your skin, Inosuke’s grip caught your wrist. “I’ll do it” he stated firmly, “You don’t have to-” “I’ll do it” he repeated, already taking the bottle. A glop of shampoo slapped against his palm as he rushed to spread it between his two hands. You closed your eyes, ready to be serenaded by his sweet touch when you were quickly reminded of who you were dealing with here- the furthest thing from sweet. Water splashed haphazardly as Inosuke drilled into your skull, roughly kneading your scalp. “Ouch! Stop it! Is that what it felt like to you?! Any harder and I’ll be the bald one!” you yelled, moving away from his hands still hanging above the water. Inosuke shrunk a little, visibly upset as he looked to his right at nothing specific. Instantly regretting your reaction, you acted to fix the situation, “Here” you gently placed his thick fingers against your scalp once again this time placing yours above his, easing them into a gentle, rhythmic massage. “See,” you sighed, “not everything in life is a race.”

Inosuke looked at the way your face fell at the feel of his fingers gently working against you, he almost had to double-take to make sure it was his touch that was providing you so much pleasure- in fact, it sort of inflated his already bulging ego. Although he spent less time washing and rinsing your hair as you had hoped (you could have sat there for hours) the water was growing cooler and time was nipping at both your ankles, reminding you of the sleep you oh so needed. Washed and feeling refreshed, you reached for his shoulders, using them to glide through the water until your chest was pressed against his, becoming more familiar with the feel of his warmth against yours. Your arms dangled over his shoulders with your head buried in his neck, while his large palms found themselves holding your waist, “this was fun” you whispered into his skin. Inosuke grunted, exhaustion creeping up on him too. “Let go to bed” you yawned ready to detach yourself reluctantly from the strong man when you were suddenly carried above the water, exposed and shivering you wrapped your legs instinctively around him. “What are you doing?” you asked embarrassed and flushed red. A wide grin overtook his face as he held you tighter, “Figured you’d be too weak to walk after I almost put you to bed with my magical fingers” he replied as he trudged through the water and out the bath, two towels already waiting to dry your skin.

Later that night as you both lay covered in cotton robes and silk sheets surrounded by the gentle buzz of the others snoring around the room, together on one futon with eyelids as heavy as stones, something occurred to you. “Hey babe?” you whispered, getting a half grunt in response, “you never took that bun out, did you?” the arm that was holding you securely to his side flicked you gently, “hush women” he breathed. You chuckled low, snuggling closer into Inosuke's warmth, falling effortlessly into a peaceful sleep.

Thank you~

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