#background is from Posession

[emethethe]

Uzas, again.

[monzabee]

i desperately need nanny!reader and jealous!hotch. maybe reader have a date (that didn’t end well) and afterwards something happens between her and hotch… i just need something steamy to happen tbh

also how old is nanny!reader according to you?

date night (gone wrong) - a. hotchner

criminal minds masterlist || part of the nanny series

Summary: hotch recruits help to make sure the nanny’s date is not a serial, it’s definitely not because he has feelings for her.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: jealous and posessive aaron (finally), feelings galore, kissing, mentions of a bad date 

Author's Note: thank you so much for your request and i hope you like it!!

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Aaron convinces himself that it is for the best. And perhaps, it is. He doesn't need to feel this way—jealous, possessive—but somehow, when he sees you slipping into that dress, he is a goner.  

Black, skintight, and short, it is enough to drive crazy on its own if he were to imagine you in it. But actually see you walk out of his house wearing it? 

It’s a big problem. 

A very specific kind of problem that tightens in his chest and coils low in his gut. 

Jack had run up to hug you goodbye, completely unaware that his father was standing there, stunned silent, jaw locked, and fists clenched just out of your view. You’d looked over your shoulder to say something, he can’t even remember what, but the flash of a smile, the tilt of your head, and the bare expanse of your legs had him swallowing hard. 

“I’ll be back before midnight,” you’d said sweetly, adjusting the strap on your purse. “Try to be good for your dad, okay?” 

He’d barely managed a goodbye. Because how was he supposed to let you go when you were walking out the door looking like that? 

And with him? 

Your date had pulled into the driveway with his engine too loud and his sunglasses still on, even though the sun had set a long time ago. Aaron watched from the window, watched you wave and laugh as you slid into the car, his car, and drove off into the evening. And how could he be sure that he was a good driver? How could he be assured that he wasn’t going to get you in an accident which could end up in you getting hurt? 

So, he told himself it was because he wanted to make sure the man wasn’t a criminal. That it was just protocol. But that excuse thinned out the second he called Garcia to dig up a background check. Just in case. 

And now? Sitting alone in the dark with a glass of scotch he doesn't even want, Aaron realizes the truth: he's never wanted to punch a man more in his life. He’s never also wanted to punch himself more in his life for suggesting that you should try dating other people, but that’s a whole other story.  

He’s still on the couch when the sound of your key in the lock breaks the silence. 

It’s 11:56. 

You step in quietly, slipping off your heels by the door. He hears the faint clink of your purse hitting the entryway table, then the soft shuffle of your feet against the hardwood. 

Aaron doesn’t move. Not until you sigh. 

A quiet, tired, defeated little sound that lodges itself right into his chest. 

You’re in the same dress—minus your heels, and your makeup is smudged in a way that has nothing to do with laughter, passion or good conversation. Your expression is sour, your lips pressed into a line. 

“Hey,” you murmur, as you step into the living room and realize he’s still up. You take a few steps and drop yourself onto the armchair across from the one he’s sitting in. 

His eyes flick up to meet yours. You look… not upset exactly. But not like someone who had a good time either. “Hey,” he echoes, setting his glass down. “You’re early.” 

“Date from hell.” You respond, not choosing to elaborate, since you know he’ll understand just how bad it was from your lack of explanation.  

He doesn’t respond. Not right away. Because part of him is already, shamefully, thrilled.  But the lack of words on your part doesn’t stop him from asking, “What happened?” 

“He was rude to the waitress. Talked about his ex-girlfriend half the night. Called me a babysitter like it was a bad thing. Then he tried to kiss me in the parking lot and got pissy when I didn’t let him.” The shudder that goes through you is enough to send Aaron snapping. 

His jaw clenches so tightly it hurts, and his fingers curl into fists against his thighs. He’s up before he even knows it, crossing the room with a kind of restrained intensity that sets your heart hammering. 

“Did he touch you?” he asks, voice low and dark. Deadly calm. The kind that would make you scared for your life if you didn’t know he’s not capable of hurting you in any way.  

“What? No!” You shake your head, your face scrunched up in disgust. “No. I got in my Uber and left before he could try again.” 

He breathes, but it doesn’t ease the storm behind his eyes. You’ve seen him like this before—when someone threatens Jack. Or when a case hits too close to home. But never over you. 

Never like this. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with people like that,” he says, and there’s steel in his voice now. “You shouldn’t have to pretend to be interested. You shouldn’t have to settle.” 

You cross your arms—not out of defiance, but to hold yourself together, and it nearly drives Aaron insane because you push up your breasts without even intending to. “I wasn’t settling!” 

His eyes meet yours, sharp and knowing, and he tilts his head to the side in a knowing way. “Weren’t you?” 

You flinch at the honesty of it, at the way it lands squarely in your chest. You’d tried. Tried to date someone nice, someone safe. Someone who wasn’t Aaron. But it had felt wrong the entire night. “You told me to go,” you whisper. “You said I should date other people. That I—” 

“I know what I said,” he cuts in, voice rough. “And I lied. I lied because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought…” He exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I thought if I wanted what was best for you, it couldn’t be me.” You don’t answer him right away, not knowing how to choose the right words, and he takes it as a sign to continue. “I live a complicated life. I have a son. A demanding job. I don’t always get to come home on time. Sometimes I come home broken. And I thought someone else could give you something easier. Something… simpler.” 

He’s looking at you now like it’s the first time he’s let himself really look. The way you hold yourself. The faint smudge of mascara beneath your eyes. The way your shoulders sag like you’re tired of pretending.  

You feel exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. He is so tall, even when he is sitting down with a drink in his hand. “If I didn’t know any better,” you start, leaning towards him, “I’d say you were jealous.”  

“Do you?” He asks, an inquisitive eyebrow raised, “Know better?” 

Your lips part in a silent shock. “What are you saying right now?” 

“I’m saying I hated watching you walk out that door tonight.” His hand brushes your arm, trails up to your shoulder. “I hated knowing someone else was going to touch you, even just your hand, even for a second.” 

Your breath catches. “You told me to go,” you remind him. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “And it was the biggest mistake I’ve made in a long time.” 

There’s a beat of silence where neither of you move. Then you whisper, “So fix it.” You glance over at him then, the corner of your mouth twitching, something unreadable in your eyes. “You jealous, Aaron?” 

The question hangs there, naked and daring. Kind of like you are, minus the naked part—though you wouldn’t object if he asked you to. 

His eyes meet yours. He doesn’t look away this time. 

“Yes.” It’s quiet. The kind of quiet that prickles under your skin. 

You blink. “Seriously?” 

He nods once, slow. “Painfully.” 

A beat. 

Then you stand up and walk over to him. 

Climb into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And he lets you. You’re straddling him now, your dress riding up, your palms pressed to his chest. Your legs bracketing his. You’re so close now, so unbearably close, and he realizes just how well you fit together, as if you were always meant to be. 

“I wanted to call you all night,” he admits, voice low and rough. “Wanted to tell you not to go. That I couldn’t stand the idea of someone else making you laugh, touching you, kissing you.” 

Your pulse spikes. Your knees feel unsteady even though you are sitting down on his lap. “And now?” you whisper, barely audible. 

His eyes drop to your lips. Then back up. “Now I’m going to kiss you,” he says, “unless you tell me not to.” 

You don’t. 

You couldn’t even if you tried. 

So, when his mouth finds yours, it’s with months, or maybe a year, of pent-up longing behind it. It’s not gentle. It’s not cautious. 

It’s desperate. And it’s perfect. 

[starsenha]

JUST THIS ONCE / P.J

Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x dom!bf!jay

Genre ◊ SMUT, established relationship, fluff at the end

Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), cursing, neck kisses, marking, petnames (baby, doll, good girl...), rough sex, jay ripped reader's dress, reader wears lingerie, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do it), posessive!jay??, spanking, praising, multiple orgasms, aftercare, jay proposes to reader at the end

Word count ◊ 3k

Summary ◊ it was your third anniversary with your boyfriend and he had planned to take you to a nice fancy restaurant to celebrate, but he kinda changed his plans when he saw you in your dress.

a/n: thank you anon for making this request! not proofread, enjoy!

Your apartment was relatively quiet, except for the soft music playing in the background, blending with the faint scent of lavender from the candles you had lit earlier. It was your third anniversary with Jay, and the excitement was palpable. You stood in front of the mirror, meticulously putting on the final touches of your makeup. The soft light from the vanity highlighted your features, making you glow even more than usual.

Jay had been your rock for the past three years. His love for you was unwavering, and it showed in every little thing he did. Tonight, he planned a special dinner to celebrate your relationship, and you were both eagerly looking forward to it.

As you picked up your favorite pair of earrings, you heard the soft creak of the bedroom door. Glancing in the mirror, you saw Jay standing in the doorway, a tender smile playing on his lips. His eyes sparkled with admiration as he took in the sight of you.

"You look absolutely stunning," he said, his voice filled with awe.

You chuckled softly, a playful glint in your eyes. "You say that every single day, you know."

"Because it's the truth." Jay stepped into the room, his gaze never leaving you. "I'm serious, every time I see you, it's like I'm falling in love all over again."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words. You turned back to the mirror, slipping on your earrings. As you did, Jay walked up behind you, sliding his arms around your waist. His hands rested on your hips, and he pulled you gently against him.

"Are you trying to distract me?" you teased, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"Maybe," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk as he pressed a kiss to your neck. "I just can't help it. You look incredible, baby."

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the sensation of his lips on your skin. His touch was electric, sending waves of warmth through your body. You leaned back into him, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you. He started with gentle pecks, then his kisses became more open-mouthed, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You knew how sensitive you were there, and Jay knew it too. He was taking full advantage.

“Jong,” you breathed out, trying to keep your composure as a wave of heat coursed through you. “We have reservations. We can’t be late.”

His hands began to wander, one sliding up to your shoulder to gently tug at the strap of your dress. The silky fabric slipped down, exposing more of your skin to his eager mouth. His other hand pressed against your stomach, holding you firmly in place.

“I don’t give a shit about that,” he whispered against your neck, his voice low and husky. “You look so fucking good in that dress. I can’t help myself.”

You tried to protest, but your words came out weak and breathy. “We really should—”

He turned you around to face him, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re hungry, I get it. But I need you right now, more than anything.”

His lips captured yours in a heated kiss, his tongue demanding entrance. You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest. The kiss deepened, and you could feel his need for you in every movement, every touch.

When he finally pulled back, you were breathless. He looked at you with a cocky, playful grin. “I’ll cook something for you later, i promise, and I'll reschedule the reservation. Right now, I need you.”

You bit your lip, torn between your hunger and the intense desire building within you. “Jay, we really should go to dinner…”

He cut you off with another kiss, his hands roaming your body with a possessive intensity. “You’re enjoying this, don’t lie,” he said against your lips, his voice a teasing growl.

You couldn’t deny it. The way he was touching you, the way he was making you feel, it was intoxicating. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and he was doing it with expert precision.

“Just a little longer,” he murmured, his lips moving back to your neck. “I promise I’ll take care of you.”

His hands slipped under your dress, and you felt your resolve weakening. His touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You knew you should insist on leaving, but in that moment, all you wanted was him.

“Jay…” you whispered, your voice a mix of need and surrender.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of love and lust. “I love you,” he said softly, his hands still exploring. “And I need you right now, baby. Please.”

You gave in, your hands threading through his hair as you pulled him closer. “Okay,” you breathed, your heart pounding in your chest. “But just this once.”

He grinned. “That’s my good little girl.”

The moment those words left his mouth, something shifted in him. His eyes darkened and he captured your mouth in a hard, demanding kiss. There was no gentleness anymore, only raw passion His hands gripped your hips, pulling you tightly against him as his tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you completely.

His lips quickly found your neck for the third time that night, but this time, he was much more insistent. He nipped and sucked at your skin, parking you with dark bruises. He loved marking you, reminding everyone you were his and his only. Each hickeys sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making the wetness between your legs even more prominent.

With a rough yank, he tore the dress apart, the sound of ripping fabric filling the room. "My dress!" you exclaimed as you stared at him in shock.

He only smirked, his eyes boring into yours. "I'll buy you another one doll, don't worry," he said casually, a little too casually. You were left standing in your favorite set of lingerie, the white lace set you knew drove him completely wild everytime you wore it. His eyes raked over you, taking in every detail, and he chuckled darkly. "Look at you, wearing my favorite set. What a naughty girl. Did you plan this, or are you just that fucking desperate for me?"

You felt your cheeks burn at his words, and you felt your white panties getting completely drenched. As you didn't respond, he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Answer me, doll. Did you dress like that because you wanted me to ruin you?"

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper, "I didn't... I mean, I..."

He laughed soflty, his grip on your chine tightening. "You did, didn't you? You wanted this. You wanted me to take you. Well congratulations, sweetheart. You're getting exactly what you wanted."

His free hand moved to your back, unclapsing your bra with practiced ease. he tossed it aside, his eyes never leaving yours. "On the bed."

You didn't hesitate. You moved to the bed, your legs already weak. You could feel his eyes following your every move. As he hovered over you, you felt a shiver down your spine. Your hands went to the buttons of his white button-up, fumbling slightly in your haste. You needed to feel his skin against yours, to touch the toned muscles you had come to love so much. As you pushed the fabric off his shoulders, your breath hitched. His torso was a work of art—toned, tan, and undeniably sexy. Even after three years, the sight of him like this made your mouth water.

Jay noticed your reaction and smirked, his eyes gleaming with arrogance. “You like what you see, don’t you?” he teased, his voice a low growl.

You bit your lip, unable to tear your gaze away from his chest. “You know I do,” you whispered.

His smirk widened, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Good, because you’re mine.”

He didn’t wait for a response. His hands were already on you, rough and demanding. One hand slipped between your legs, parting your thighs, while the other cupped your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple through the thin fabric of your lingerie. The dual sensations made you arch your back, a moan escaping your lips.

His hand slipped underneath your panties, hissing once he felt how wet you were. His index parted your lips before he slid it into your wetness, thrusting it roughly inside you. Your back arched, and he slid his middle finger almost immediately. The sudden invasion made you cry out, a choked moan leaving your lips, your body already trembling. He set a relentless pace, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he murmured, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck. "You like being treated like this, babygirl? You like it when I'm rough like that, mmh?"

"Y-Yes, fuck," you moaned, your hips moving to meet his thrusts. "Please, don't stop."

His lips curled into a satisfied smile against your skin. “Good girl. You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?”

You could only nod, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. His thumb found your clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. Your breath hitched, and you felt the world around you start to blur.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. “I want to see you when you come.”

You forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. The connection between you was electric, and it pushed you over the edge. With a cry, you came hard, your body convulsing around his fingers. The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you completely.

Jay watched you the entire time, his eyes dark with satisfaction. He slowed his movements, drawing out your orgasm until you were left panting and trembling beneath him.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he said softly, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his lips. He licked them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. “And you taste incredible.”

You were still catching your breath, your body buzzing with aftershocks. He quickly undid his pants, tugging them off along with his boxers, his cock freed from their confines as it slapped against his tan stomach, red and ready, precum leaking from the tip. The sight made your mouth watered and you could feel yourself leaking.

“I need to be inside you, doll” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against your wetness. “I can't wait any longer.”

Without another word, he thrust into you, hard and deep. The sudden fullness made you cry out, your hands gripping the sheets. Jay set a relentless pace, each thrust rough and demanding. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you against him with every movement.

“Fuck, you feel so good, that pussy was made for me, sh-shit” he groaned, his voice ragged. “So tight, so perfect. You're mine, do you hear me?”

“Yes, jong, fuck,” you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. “I'm yours. Always yours.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re going to cum for me again. I’m not stopping until you do.”

He shifted his angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. The pleasure was overwhelming, building rapidly. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it with firm, precise strokes. You were still so sensitive from your earlier orgasm, it didn't take a lot of time for that familiar coil in your lower stomach to form.

“I'm-I'm gonna c-cum,” you cried out, your voice desperate.

“Cum for me, babygirl” he demanded, his thrusts growing even rougher.

You obeyed, your body shattering with pleasure. Your scream filled the room as you came hard around him, your muscles clenching tight. But he didn’t stop. He kept thrusting, pushing you through your orgasm and into another one quickly. He knew your body too well, and he knew exactly what buttons to push to make you fall apart on his cock.

“That's it, scream for me,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure there would be bruises. “Let everyone know who you belong to.”

He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so he could take you from behind. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He spanked you lightly, his hand leaving a stinging imprint on your skin.

“You're my little fucktoy, aren't you?” he taunted, his voice rough and filthy.

“Fuck yeah” you panted, barely able to form words.

He spanked you again, harder this time. “Good girl. Now cum for me again.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but the combination of his rough thrusts and dirty words sent you over the edge once more. You came hard, your body convulsing with the force of it. Jay groaned in pleasure, but he still didn’t stop.

He pulled out and flipped you onto your back again, his eyes wild with lust. “I want to see your face when you cum.”

He entered you again, thrusting hard and fast. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands were everywhere, touching, gripping, claiming you. The intensity of it all was overwhelming, but you loved every second.

“Jay, please,” you begged, your voice a desperate plea.

“Please what?” he taunted, his thrusts never slowing. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come again,” you cried, tears of pleasure streaming down your face. “Please, Jay, make me come again.”

“That's my good fucking girl,” he murmured, his thumb finding your clit once more. “Come for me one more time.”

You screamed as your body obeyed, the orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you breathless. Jay watched you the entire time, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his movements grew erratic. He was close, and the thought of him finding his release pushed you even higher. With a final, deep thrust, he groaned loudly, his body tensing as he came inside you. The sensation of his cum painting your walls white sent a final wave of pleasure through you, and you moaned softly, your body completely spent.

He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. Both of you were panting, your bodies covered in a sheen of sweat. Jay pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice softening. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, a tired but content smile on your lips. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a bit sore.”

Jay chuckled softly, his eyes filled with love and concern. “Let’s get you cleaned up and comfortable, okay?”

He carefully helped you sit up and led you to the bathroom. He turned on the warm water, filling the bathtub while you leaned against him, feeling the comforting strength of his presence. Once the tub was ready, he gently helped you into the warm water, the heat easing the soreness from your muscles.

Jay kneeled beside the tub, his hands moving to wash you with slow, soothing strokes. “Even like that, you're so beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for his care.

After the bath, he wrapped you in a fluffy towel and carried you back to the bed. He dressed you in one of his soft t-shirts, the fabric warm and comforting against your skin. He made sure you were comfortable, tucking you in with a gentle kiss.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a glass of water and some painkillers. “Here, this should help.”

You took the pills, sipping the water as he settled beside you. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. The tenderness in his voice and the warmth of his embrace made you feel cherished and loved.

After a while, Jay shifted slightly, reaching into the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled out a small black velvet box and looked at you with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

“I was going to give this to you at the restaurant,” he said, his voice a bit shaky. “But since we’re staying home, and you’re all sore, I figured now is the perfect time.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he opened the box, revealing an exquisite ring. The center stone was a stunning diamond, surrounded by smaller, sparkling gems. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and you could see the care and thought that had gone into choosing it.

“Seongie…” you breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

He took the ring from the box and held it up, his eyes meeting yours with a serious, loving gaze. “You mean everything to me. These past three years have been the best of my life, and I want to spend the rest of it with you. Will you marry me?”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you nodded, tears streaming down your face. “Oh my God, Jay, of course I will!”

A wide smile broke across his face as he slipped the ring onto your finger. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world,” he said, pulling you into a deep, loving kiss.

As you snuggled into his arms, admiring the ring on your finger, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. Despite the soreness and the change in plans, this moment was perfect. Jay had taken care of you, showed you his love in every possible way, and now he had promised you forever.

“I know it’s a bit extravagant,” he said softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. “But I wanted you to have something that reflects how much you mean to me, baby.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips. “And I can’t wait to spend it with you, my love. Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” you whispered back, feeling a sense of contentment and joy that you knew would last a lifetime.

[darkbluekies]

Character facts (2025 version)

A/N: last facts were in the beginning of 2023 and a few things have happened since then, so here's a new and improved character facts, with more thorough information. If you feel like I've missed anything, please let me know.

I will update this every now and then, to add more relevant information.

Silas Achilleos:

Simple facts:

35

Greek, but lives in the US

Looks: black hair, black eyes, broad, muscular, olive skintype, around 185 cm, tattoos over his arms, back and one on his chest

Fashion style: button shirts, black pants, coats, hoodies, sweatpants

He has a dog named Otto

Assigned color: red. Represents his love for darling, his blood thirst, passion and danger.

Behaviour:

Dark: Jealous, posessive, territorial, often described as "predatory/animalistic", taunting, a bit infantilizing, condescending, overprotective, violent, clingy

Soft: childish/immature, doesn't like to involve innocent in his business, never judges

Silas is emotional and often acts upon his feelings before thinking.

He is a sexual person, but not to that extent one can imagine him to be.

Likes:

Steak. A lot.

Guns

Dogs

Whiskey, Brandy

Hugs

Being the one darling find protection in

Dislikes:

People testing him, interrupting him, underestimating him

Ares (his little brother)

People that use violence for fun/people that hurt people for no other reason than that they can

Sexual nicknames

His background:

He got disowned by his parents after being involved in some crimes in his hometown, Athens, and then moved alone to the US, where he met SIC (his to-be Second In Command) and they stole the impire from another mob boss, making Silas the leader.

Dr Karl Kry

Simple facts

33

Swedish, lives in Sweden

Looks: blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin, around 187cm, big hands, lean muscles

Fashion style: doctor's uniform, polo shirts, button shirts, light pants, everything in muted and light colors. Ironed, no wrinkles, neat.

Assigned color: blue. Represents cold, loneliness, nature.

Behaviour:

Dark: Dr Kry has no issue taking lives of people and is skillfull at doing it so that he can't be traced, cold, never lets anyone know what he's thinking, infantilizing

Soft: Takes darlings weakness seriously, sweet, thoughtful, remembers small details

Dr Kry is a man balancing between caring and emotionally distant, making his actions seem hypocritical.

Likes:

Cleanliness, neatness

Silence

Nature, flowers, garden

Jazz

Coffee (too much) and chicken

Taking care of darling

Writing scifi

Running, swimming

Dislikes:

Loud noises, too much going on

His parents

Messiness, dirt, "germs"

Unecessary physcial contact

People getting in his business

His background:

Dr Kry was raised by parents who wanted him to become a doctor and that never gave him what he needed. He has never learned how to express himself, or gotten physical love. Or encouragement or anything soft.

King Edmund of Vesanus

Simple facts:

19-20

Has his imaginary kingdom/country

Looks: black hair a bit on the longer side (covers his eyes), ice blue eyes, fair skin tone, around 178cm, muscular

Fashion style: button shirts, suits, pullovers, dark pants

A playboy who, before he met darling, slept with a handful of women at the court + he is experimental.

Assigned color: green. It represents madness, toxicity, nature, jealousy, wealth.

Behaviour:

Dark: Edmund is violent and likes to get hands on, can be described as "insane", selfish, self centered, spoiled, thinks highly of himself and low of others, very jealous

Soft: childish, immature, playful, doesn't know or understands much outside of himself but is willing to learn for darling,

Edmund is a boy who's never had any friends or been taught on how to socialize with others on a casual level. He is selfish and thinks the universe centers around him, because that's what he's been taught. So he acts like it.

Likes:

Horses

Working out, sports

Music

Red wine

Dislikes:

People thinking they're better than him

People disagreeing with him / people talking back

Dirt, germs

People

His background:

When he was sixteen, the palace he lived in got stormed and everyone but him was killed. He is now living in a castle on the countryside by a smaller village where no one can touch him again. He's afraid of people, scared that the ones that killed his parents will come back to finish the job, but he masks it with hatred towards everyone.

Jerry Kim / Kim Yubin

Simple facts:

24

South Korean but has moved to the US

Yubin is her real name, but she changed it to Jerry

Looks: black hair in a wolfcut manner, black eyes, a slightly warmer /tanner skin tone, around 165cm, muscular, tattoos over her arms, back

Fashion style: dark streetwear

Assigned color: purple. It represents mystery, independance, is a mixture of pink (sterotypically female) with blue (stereotypically male) which fits her perfectly.

The most sexual in the group. She is experimental, cheeky and always up for a challenge.

Behaviour:

Dark: Jerry is harsh in her words, rough/almost mean humour, sarcastic, never lets anyone too close. She's sadistic, unforgiving and enjoys watching people in pain

Soft: Jerry, despite everything, likes domisticy. She's protective of darling, never judges for anything, is the yandere who gives most trust to their darling. Her love language is everything but telling "I love you" because she physically can't do it.

Likes:

Cooking

Give gifts (but pretends she doesn't)

Cuddle (but pretends she doesn't)

Spend time with darling

Motorcycles

Weapons

Work out

Tattoos

Drawing

Dislikes:

People who judges others/aren't inclusive to people

People picking on weaker people

Injustice

Her backstory:

She and her little sister Yuna grew up normally, but Jerry started intresting herself in petty crimes that eventually led to darker stuff, with people who killed her family. Knowing that she wasn't safe alone, she joined an organisation and fled the country. The girl she was before her parents and little sister got killed is gone. Yubin died that night and Jerry took her place.

Hedwig Carter

Simple facts:

18-19

English aristocracy, lives in England (descendant of Edmund)

Looks: Dark blonde with highlights, hazel eyes, fair skin tone, around 170cm

Fashion style: typically "old money"

Assigned color: pink. It represents her femininity, her softness, but also her lovesick behaviour, a "washed out red"

Behaviour:

Dark: Hedwig is unstable, and doesn't trust herself when her yandere side comes out. She is unpredictable and manipulative to the point that if you never dig to deep, you'd never realize she was a yandere, jealous and territorial

Soft: Hedwig is devoted, loyal, clingy, protective, supportive and extremely sweet and gentle, never judges,

Hedwig doesn't like her yandere side. It is inherited from Edmund's blood line. It feels like an itch she needs to scratch.

Likes:

Strawberry and strawberry flavoured/scented things

Horses

Golf, pilates, yoga

Animals

Children

Nature

People

Luxury goods

Traveling

Modeling

Baking, cooking

Dislikes:

Violence (most of the time)

Horror

People interacting with her for money's sake

Her yandere side

Her backstory:

Hedwig is a descendants from Edmund's blood line and has grown up with her father (who's also a yandere for her mother) and has always been encouraged by her father, always gotten what she wanted. Her mother is an old film star who's carrier was destroyed by her father and who's now depandant on wine. The only one Hedwig really has, who she knows love her for her, is darling.

[thestarkinternship]

Crossing the Line

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: Your ex boyfriend Bucky gets a little jealous after seeing you with a new guy, what lengths will he go to to get you back?

Word Count: 3k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: Drinking, profanity, jealous!Bucky, posessive!Bucky, stalking, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (public space), choking, slight dubcon. 18+, MINORS DNI

A/N: I kinda let my imagination run a little crazy in certain parts of this (and I'm not sorry). One day they’ll actually be in a bed but today is not that day.

-

The dive bar downtown Bucky had followed you to wasn't a pleasant one. It was dark and cramped, the sweaty air as sticky as the alcohol soaked floor. There were too many people in here brushing up against him whilst he stalked through the dimly lit room. Bucky shuddered, recoiling away from the brief touches as he passed by the drunk party goers. Loud music blared out of the cheap speakers, crackling as they struggled to support the rhythmic thumping from the heavy bass. The metal of his arm vibrated slightly, setting off a tingling sensation from the joint at his shoulder all the way down to his fingertip. Making his way to the bar, he wrapped his hand around a cold glass and tried to ignore the feeling. The smooth liquor slipped past his lips, but had little effect on his increasing nerves. Bucky was looking for you, and he wasn't going to relax until you were found.

Of course, he had no right to know where you were. The two of you had been broken up for a couple months now, after all. You were free to do whatever you wanted. But that didn't mean Bucky had to like it. Earlier that evening, he'd overheard you telling Steve all about a club downtown and how excited you were to go. He'd been wary at the time - you'd never been one to want to spend the night getting drunk with random strangers until you couldn't stand. Maybe he didn't know you as well as he thought he did. But the longer he stayed there, his suit collecting god knows how many diseases from leaning against the grimy bar, Bucky couldn't help the way his nose wrinkled a little in disgust. He was now certain his sweet girl didn't belong in a place like this.

As he sipped his way through the glass, and then another, Bucky started to wonder if he'd come to the right bar after all.

Setting his empty glass down, the shiny crystal a stark contrast to the dark wood, Bucky was about to give up when he heard the sound of your high pitched laughter in the distance. His body twitched at the familiar sound. It was like all of his fears were calmed in that instance. Scanning the room, he allowed his enhanced hearing to do the rest of the work, filtering through all of the background chatter until he could pin point your exact location. As he craned his neck, Bucky could just about see you by the edge of the dancefloor. And much to his surprise, you weren't alone.

Perched on a bar stool, you were breaking his heart in a stunning crimson dress. It clung to every inch of your curves. The silky material dipped at the swell of your breasts as your chest moved with your laughter. As you crossed one long leg over the other, the short fabric slipped up your thighs, exposing a lot more of yourself to Bucky than he'd seen in a while. His eyes raked over your body, imagining what he'd do if you'd come here together. Maybe his hand would be on your thigh, daring to trail underneath your dress, whilst his lips pressed soft kisses just below your ear in the way that only he knew you liked. Bucky would beg you to let him take you back to the compound, his gentle touch on your body the entire cab ride home as he teased you about what was to come.

But Bucky was pulled from his thoughts as he noticed you toying with some older guy. Delicate fingers twirled in the stranger's tie, you pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear. His hand grazed the supple skin of your thigh where Bucky's should've been. Even in the fluorescent lighting, Bucky could see the unmistakeable blush that crossed his face at your sinful murmurs. Bucky's jaw tightened. With all of the commotion, not even his super hearing could distinguish your hushed whispers. And he didn't like that one bit.

Jealously spurred on inside of him, curling like fire in the pit of Bucky's stomach. He was struggling to restrain himself from going over there right now and crushing the guy's skull for even breathing near you. At war with himself, Bucky hovered closer as you continued to flirt. A few minutes later, his eyes widened slightly as he saw the two of you step away. Your desperate tugging on the guys shirt for him to follow you towards the exit triggered a raging snap inside of Bucky.

Reaching for his empty glass, he crushed the fragile crystal in anger with just a slight clench of his metal hand. The shattered remains of it fell to the ground as he began to follow your trail. Oh, you'd done it now.

As he stormed after you, Bucky's body was shaking. He needed you. The noise of the city streets became a blur as all Bucky could focus on was echoes of your name inside his mind. His stomach dropped as he watched you turn off the corner into a nearby alley. Pushing his body to catch up to you, he was finally close enough to hear the unmistakeable heavy breathing.

Bucky's boots scuffed against the tarmac as he came to a dead stop at the sight that awaited him. His eyes narrowed at the scene of you pushed up against a brick wall, a thigh hitched up around this stranger's waist, hands tangling in his hair. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you threw your head back carelessly to let out a soft moan. And the worst part of it all? You seemed to be enjoying the way this stranger was practically mauling you.

He closed in on you as you were blissfully unaware of his presence until you saw a large arm grip the shoulder of your date. Bucky tore him away from you, and the man fell to the ground under Bucky's strength. Your shoulder's jumped slightly as you pressed yourself flat against the alley wall in an overwhelming mixture of surprise and fear. Bucky's hand snaked up the back of the man's head before pulling it back.

"You know who I am, right?" Bucky hissed and the man nodded, "good. You touch her again, and I'll kill you."

Bucky let go of him with a hard shove, watching him slump forwards on the gritty floor. There was enough malice in his tone for your date to make the smart decision not to answer back. He scrambled to his feet as he recovered from the ambush. Your date took one last look back at you. He saw the emotion in your eyes, and whilst he pitied you, nothing could make him stay. Turning on the heel of his shoe, he sprinted out of the alley, putting as much distance between himself and The Winter Soldier as possible. All alone now, you had no choice but to face your ex boyfriend.

You stayed quiet, your shoulders moving fast with rapid breaths with the adrenaline of this whole thing.

"Him? Really?" Bucky gestured in the direction of the fleeing man, "I mean, come on, doll. You deserve someone who would at least fight for you, not leave you all alone in an abandoned alleyway."

"What, like you? Is this you fighting for me?" You sneered. It wasn't the smartest choice you'd ever made, but the sarcasm in your voice was even harder to control than Bucky and his jealously. "How did you even know I was here? Did you follow me?"

His silence was all the confirmation that you needed, and you scoffed.

"You've really crossed the line. What are you doing here, James?" You sighed quietly.

"I'm done pretending that I don't still love you. That I don't crave being around you. That I haven't missed being around you every second for the last two months." Bucky whispered, taking a step towards you. He leaned in close, your faces inches apart. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips traced your warm cheek.

You shivered under the familiarity of it, and your voice trembled slightly. "Don't do that, we're not together anymore. You can't…"

He hummed slightly as his eyes glazed over you for the longest time. His touch lingered on your skin, trailing down. You shivered under the cool sensation of the cold vibranium as it prickled goosebumps along your flushed body. Inside your chest, our heart pounded. Bucky's face lit up in the dark at the reaction he managed to elicit from you. He still had an effect on you, whether you wanted to admit it to him or not. Luckily for you, you didn't have to.

"Tell me he made you feel this way, and I'll stop." Bucky whispered.

Your lips parted, your brain begging for the words to come out. But you couldn't help but fall short. What you wanted was to push him away from you, tell him he was being ridiculous and that you had always hated this jealous side of him. But the way he stared at you, ready to devour you at a moment's notice, had you feeling more turned on than you had ever been before. The dark look in his eyes said that he wanted to ravish you, make you forget all about the random guy you had picked up in the bar. And the worst part of it all was, you were willing to let him. You swallowed nervously at the realisation that you still belonged to him, you always had.

"Can't do it, can you?"

Bracing the wall with his good arm, he let his other continue its journey down your body. As he reached the soft spot where your neck met your collarbone, his hand spread out. Gripping lightly, he pulled your head away from the wall to meet him. Bucky's lips were soft, and you found yourself slipping back into the memory of a thousand past kisses. He knew the perfect balance of how much to tease and how much to give back. Tugging your bottom lip between his, he caused soft moans just to silence them again soon after with the addition of his tongue.

Letting go of your throat, he reached for your hip instead. Bucky brushed against the top of your thigh, and you felt a dangerous sensation deep inside your body. You wanted him and this much more than you were letting on. As he daringly ventured underneath your dress, he was so close to finding that out for himself.

Bucky stopped just shy of your dampened panties, and he tore his lips away from yours. A desperate whine slipped from your lips as your brows furrowed. "Bucky…"

"What's the matter?" He smirked, keeping his hand ever so still, just out of reach of where you wanted it to be.

"I…" Your heavy breathing faltered.

Chuckling, he shifted his hand from the wall and brought it to your chin. Tilting your face up to look at him, you caught the dark look in his eye. "Say it, sweetheart. Tell me what you want, and I'll happily give it to you."

"Bucky." Your voice was hoarse. You didn't want to give in to him, much less say outright how much you craved what only he could give you.

His smirk grew and he leaned in to your ear. "Not gonna tell me? Okay, let me take a wild guess. You want me to take you right here, don't you princess? I can feel how wet you are already just from the thought of it. And I don't even have to touch you to know that, I can feel you dripping down your thigh onto my hand. That how turned on you are? Just the thought of how good I can make you feel got you weeping a goddamn river all over my fingers. Think of how much of a mess you're gonna make when you're wrapped around my cock, princess."

It was exactly what you wanted. No matter how long you'd spent apart, Bucky still knew exactly he had to say to reduce you into a shaking, desperate mess in front of him.

Pulling his hand out from under your dress, you frowned until you saw it go to his own waist, unzipping his jeans. He lowered the waistband of his pants just enough to reveal how bulging you had him in his tight boxers. You bit your lip, looking him up and down. The quick flash of his toned stomach as his shirt rode up. The way you could practically see him throbbing as the cotton restrained him. Whilst you were distracted, he hoisted you off your feet.

Gasping, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he braced your back against the brick wall. The jagged edge grazed your skin slightly, and you winced at the pain. The pain subsided as Bucky kissed your exposed shoulder, letting the thin strap of your dress fall down your arm.

"What? You thought I was gonna go easy on you? Tease you with my fingers until you were nice and warmed up to take all of me? Oh no, that's not how this is going to work. Not after the little show you put on for me tonight. You want me to fuck you, so that's exactly what you're going to get. And I know you're plenty wet enough already, so now we're going to put it to good use."

With his palm supporting your lower back, he inched your body down onto his waiting cock. Gravity on his side, your body was forced to accommodate his length as he filled you with little warning. Tight around him, your walls throbbed at the sudden intrusion that pushed you from pain to pleasure. Your jaw fell slack and a cry escaped at the stretching feeling. Bucky's hand clamped hard over your mouth, muffling your sweet sounds. Your head pushed back against the wall as he held you there and kept you quiet.

"Stay quiet for me, doll. Can't let anyone find us here like this. Not when you're being such a good girl for me. Wouldn't wanna have to stop now, would we?" Bucky murmured, his voice heavy with laboured breaths.

You shook your head against his palm, feeling your hot pants flush back against your rosy cheeks as he kept it there. "N- no…"

Even though your reply was muffled, Bucky understood perfectly. Smirking, he gently slid his hand away from your lips and cupped your cheek, leaning in to kiss you. The sweet peck was enough to confirm that Bucky still very much cared about you, even if he was fucking you like he didn't. He pulled out slowly, revelling in the way your needy cunt gripped him. Bucky groaned through gentle thrusts, his eyes shutting as you sucked him back in. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, muttering depraved nonsense as he rutted up into you.

"Shit, doll. Still as fucking tight as I remember. Swear, I'm never letting go of you again. Wanna be inside of you forever."

Your kisses turned messy, as your shared desperation for each other grew. Promises of being quiet were long forgotten as you pushed one another to release. Bucky's fingers dug into your hips as he brought you down harder onto his cock, meeting you halfway with sharp thrusts. Your hands ran up and down his back, grasping at his t shirt and scrunching it up tight in between your fingers as you hurtled towards the edge. Bucky's own body tensed as he felt you twitch.

"Keep that up and I'm gonna come in you right now." Bucky panted, not showing any signs of slowing down.

You whimpered in response, your bottom lip quivering.

"Is that what you want, huh?" he murmured, "want me to fill you right here and leave with my come spilling down your thighs?

You babbled incoherently as you struggled to get a straight answer out.

"Gonna need to hear you say it, doll." Bucky taunted with a smirk, bringing his hand down to rub slow circles on your clit.

You gasped. "Yes, that's what I want. Please."

He chuckled darkly, before adding more pressure to that bundle of nerves between your legs, bumping over his cock as it disappeared inside of you with relentless thrusts. Your thighs squeezed his waist as the knot in your lower stomach tightened. Heart pounding and head dizzying, his fast pace and quick fingers sent you flying over the edge. Your vision blurred and faded in and out of darkness at the blinding pleasure that only he could bring you.

Bucky fucked you through your orgasm, chasing his own. Not a minute later, you felt the pulsing of his cock inside of you as he spilled inside of you. The sensation of his come reaching deep caused you to tremble, and your body fell slack between the wall and him. He stepped closer, cradling your shaky body. As the two of you caught your breath, he gently set you back down on your feet whilst still keeping you close for support. You shuddered as his warm come trickled down your inner thigh and came into contact with the cool night's air. His thumb hooked the hem of your dress, pulling it back down before giving you a soft kiss.

When he finally pulled away, the anger in his expression was long gone and all that remained was the sweet side of him you hadn't seen since long before your breakup.

"I meant what I said, you know?" he mumbled, swiping a thumb across your pink lips, "letting you walk away from me was the biggest mistake I've ever made."

Looking up at him, you felt a warmth spread in your chest. In that moment, you couldn't remember why you left him either. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before whispering, "don't let it happen again."

[mandoalorian]

the spaces between us [bucky barnes x f!reader]

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader

Synopsis: A storm brews between you and Bucky—one fueled by fear, frustration, and the ghosts of your pasts. As tensions reach their breaking point, you seek solace in the one person who understands what it means to have your agency stripped away. But while you and Yelena prepare for the battle ahead, Bucky and his team are setting fire to the past—unaware that you’re walking straight into its ashes.

Word Count: 5000

Tags/warnings: 18+ explicit content, employer x employee, p in v, office sex 2.0!!!, this is angst city and i am they mayor - sorry in advance :), domestic bucky <3, jealous bucky <333, posessive bucky <333333

Masterlist

prev chapter <3 | congress & carnality masterlist

You woke up to the sound of something sizzling. Then popping. Then—

“Shit.”

You cracked your eyes open and realised Bucky wasn’t in bed. The space beside you was still warm, but the man himself was gone—and judging by the scent of charred batter wafting into the bedroom, he’s on a one-man mission to burn down the kitchen.

You grabbed the first thing in reach—one of his old, gray shirts with frayed sleeves and a faint coffee stain on the hem—and slipped it over your body. It hung off you like a dress, swallowing your frame in warmth and his scent, a mix of cedarwood, gunmetal, and syrupy sleep.

Padding barefoot down the hall, you found him shirtless at the stove, his hair still messy from sleep. He held a spatula in one hand and stared down at a very, very burnt pancake.

He didn't notice you at first. You leaned against the doorway and folded your arms, biting back a laugh. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to summon the fire department.”

Bucky turned, startled—and then grins, sheepish and boyish, his cheeks tinged slightly pink. “This was not how it was supposed to go.”

You raised a brow and walk into the kitchen. “Were you trying to surprise me with breakfast?”

“I was,” he muttered, dumping the blackened pancake into the trash. “You ruined the surprise by waking up early.”

You smirked and came to stand beside him. “You ruined the surprise by setting off every smoke alarm in the building.”

He laughed, low and raspy, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Let me help.”

The next ten minutes were a blur of flour-covered hands and stolen kisses. You took over the stove while Bucky insisted on cutting the strawberries “perfectly,” which turned into him stealing half of them before they even made it to the plate. He sneaked his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder, humming along to some old Sinatra song playing softly in the background.

“Bucky, no—” You giggled, ducking as flour puffed into the air when he slammed the bag down a little too hard.

He huffed, frowning at the white dust covering his hands. “I don’t remember pancakes bein’ this damn complicated.”

You grinned, shaking your head as you swiped some flour from his cheek. “You’ve fought intergalactic warlords, but pancakes are your downfall?”

His eyes narrowed, and before you could react, he smudged flour across your nose.

You gasped. “James Buchanan Barnes—”

Bucky smirked. “Somethin’ on your face, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you’re so dead.”

Before you could retaliate, he trapped you against the counter, pressing a quick, flour-dusted kiss to your lips.

You melted into it for a second before groaning. “Okay, okay, truce. Let’s just eat before we both look like ghosts.”

You settle at the kitchen table with your stack of uneven but edible pancakes. Bucky loaded his with strawberries and a very generous pour of syrup before nudging his knee against yours beneath the table.

“I like this,” you murmur. “Just… you and me. Peace and pancakes.”

“I could get used to this,” he says quietly, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear. “You make everything better, you know that?”

You smile and tilt your head, catching his lips in a slow, lingering kiss before setting the last pancake on a plate.

A mischievous thought struck you, and you grabbed your phone. “You know what you need?” You asked with a mouthful of pancake.

He looked up warily, mid-bite. “…A nap?”

You rolled your eyes. “No. An Instagram.”

Bucky groaned immediately, setting his fork down. “Oh, hell no.”

You pouted. “Come on! You’re running for president, Buck. You need social media.”

“I don’t need social media. I need coffee. And maybe a whiskey.”

You sighed dramatically, placing your chin in your hand. “Firstly, it’s barely ten in the morning. No whiskey. Secondly, imagine how many people would love seeing you post. They love you, Bucky.”

He scoffed, but you could see the way his ears tinged pink. “No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do. And if you don’t believe me, we’re making an account right now.”

Bucky groaned as you slid your phone toward him. “This feels like a trap.”

“It’s a campaign strategy,” you corrected, opening the Instagram app. “Here, type in a username.”

Bucky eyed the screen like it was a foreign object. “How do I—”

You laughed. “Just type your name.”

“…Just my name?”

“Well, obviously not just ‘Bucky.’ It’s taken.”

“Who the hell else is callin’ themselves Bucky?”

You snorted. “I don’t know. Maybe the guy who owned your apartment before you.”

Bucky muttered something under his breath, but he took the phone, typing in @jamesbarnesofficial.

“See?” you said encouragingly. “You’re already a pro.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Now what?”

You took the phone back. “Now we take your first post.”

Bucky raised a brow. “What kinda post?”

“A selfie.”

Bucky groaned. “Nope. Absolutely not.”

You pouted, scooting closer. “Please, Buck? Just one.”

He sighed, shaking his head, but there was amusement in his eyes. “…Fine.”

You grinned, shifting so you were right beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Okay, look at the camera.”

Bucky hesitated, then gave a small smirk as you snapped the photo.

Looking at it, you had to admit—he looked good. Blue eyes soft, lips slightly curved, his metal arm catching the morning light. You, beside him, looked equally lovestruck.

“Perfect,” you said happily. “Now, caption ideas…”

Bucky stared at the screen, frowning. “People really care about captions?”

You laughed. “Of course they do! What about something presidential? Like ‘A new chapter begins’?”

Bucky made a face. “Cheesy.”

You snorted. “Fine, what do you wanna say?”

He thought for a second, then typed: Good morning.

“…That’s it?” you asked, blinking.

“Yep.”

You laughed. “Okay, Grandpa. Hitting ‘post’ now.”

The moment the photo was up, your notifications exploded. Likes, comments, shares—it was immediate.

Bucky’s brows lifted. “That’s normal?”

You nodded, scrolling through the replies. “‘MY PRESIDENT!’ ‘The hottest man in America.’ ‘Bucky Barnes world domination when?’”

Bucky flushed slightly, clearing his throat. “People are crazy.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. “Told you they love you.”

Bucky scrolled through the comments, the screen of his iPhone flashing as each one popped through. By the second, his Instagram was inundated with messages. “Hey, look, this person said good morning back,” Bucky smiled proudly. 

“Yeah?” You asked, cutting some more fruit to go with the pancakes. “What’s their name?”

Bucky squinted as he read the username. “BuckyIsDaddy6969.” He said flatly.

You let out a chortle. “Oh, agreed.” You grinned. Bucky stood up, collecting the plates to clear the table. 

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Only one person’s opinion matters to me.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest.

Then, like clockwork, the morning news kicked in from the living room. And just like that, the warmth of the morning was replaced with something much, much colder.

Bucky barely registered it at first—until the words Ethan Halloway echo through the safehouse.

He stiffened.

You glanced at the screen. The anchor was mid-sentence, voice polished and rehearsed. Behind her was a photo of Ethan standing in front of a podium, American flag rippling behind him.

“…in a stunning announcement early this morning, Ethan Halloway has declared his candidacy for President of the United States. The philanthropist and former CEO promises a campaign focused on renewal, unity, and transparency—”

“Bullshit,” Bucky muttered.

You frowned, setting your fork down and sinking back into your chair. “Did you know he was planning this?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “I knew he was a snake. Didn’t think he’d be this bold.”

Onscreen, Ethan smiled, waving to a crowd of supporters. He looked polished, confident, practiced—like the camera’s been his friend for years.

You watch Bucky’s face. His eyes darken, expression unreadable, that Winter Soldier edge flickering beneath the surface.

“I never liked him,” Bucky said, voice low. “Something about him… always felt off. Like he knew too much. Watched too closely.”

You raised a brow. “You mean he looked at me.”

Bucky shot you a look. “He stared at you.”

You laughed into your coffee. “You were jealous.”

He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans in close, metal fingers tracing down your thigh beneath the table. “Can you blame me?”

You met his gaze, heart fluttering at the intensity there. “You never had to be jealous, Buck.”

“I know,” he said softly, brushing your hair from your face. “But I also know men like him. The kind that smile with teeth but always want what isn’t theirs.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek. “I’m not something to be taken.”

He kissed you then—slow but possessive, like he needs you to feel every part of what he can’t say out loud. You melted into him, anchoring yourself in his warmth.

When he pulled back, you pressed your forehead against his. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

His eyes softened. “Together.”

The news faded into background noise as you clear the plates and rinse off sticky hands. But even as he stole another kiss behind the sink, you can see it on his face—he’s already planning the next move. And so are you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The ride to Bucky’s office was quiet, but not tense. It was your first day out of the safehouse. You rested your head against the window while Bucky tapped the steering wheel in rhythm to some classic Marvin Gaye tune humming low on the radio. There was thoughtful look in his eye—he’s planning, thinking, already one step ahead. You knew that look. And you also knew it’s partially hiding the anxiety knotted beneath the surface.

You reached across the centre console, and laced your fingers with his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. You didn’t need to say anything. Neither did he. Sometimes, silence between you says more than words ever could.

When you stepped inside his office, you’re hit with the scent of cedarwood, old books, and ink—his scent, the one that clung to his clothes, to your skin, to the back of your throat when he kisses you deep. The rich mahogany desk stood like a centrepiece at the room’s heart, polished and dignified, as out of place in modern politics as Bucky himself sometimes feels.

He tossed his jacket over the back of the leather couch and watched as you walked in, eyes lingering on your legs peeking out beneath his shirt—because yes, you wore the same one from this morning, claiming, “It’s comfy,” even though you knew exactly what it did to him.

He leaned against the door, watching you with that look. The one that strips you bare without touching you.

He’s on you in three long strides, grabbing your waist and backing you into the desk. His hands find your thighs, lifting you easily until you’re perched right where it all started.

The rich mahogany of the desk felt smooth beneath your fingertips, as Bucky stood between your parted thighs. His touch was firm, his lips insistent, like he was trying to ground himself in you, to drown in the feel of you before the weight of the world came crashing back down.

“Remember our first time? Here, in the office? It was a late night and I was trying to be professional,” he murmured, kissing your jaw, your neck. “You were wearing those red heels…”

You laughed breathlessly. “You were flustered.”

“I was wrecked.” He nipped at your earlobe. “You had no idea what you were doing to me.”

“Oh, I did,” you whispered, threading your fingers into his hair.

His mouth crashed into yours with hunger and heat, his hands sliding up your thighs, beneath the hem of your shirt. You gasped as his metal hand grips the edge of the desk, bracing himself, while his other hand presses against the small of your back, arching you into him.

“I’ve been thinking about this all damn morning,” he growled against your lips. “Pancakes and politics be damned—this is where I want you.”

He kissed you deeply, his hands spreading over your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as if anchoring himself. The air between you crackled with something raw, something urgent—like he needed this, like he needed you, like there was no room for hesitation.

“You know how many times I’ve thought about this?” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough.

Your breath hitched as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Oh?”

His smirk was dangerous, his blue eyes dark with something primal. “Every damn time I sit at this desk.”

The confession sent a thrill through you. Your heart pounded as he leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“You bent over it—” His voice was gravel, full of sinful promise. “—spread out for me, taking everything I give you.”

A shiver ran down your spine. “Bucky—”

“Yeah, baby?” He dragged his mouth down your throat, hands slipping beneath your shirt, palms hot against your bare skin.

You swallowed hard, barely able to think with the way he was touching you. “You gonna stop talking about it and do something, or—”

He cut you off with a growl, yanking your shirt over your head in one fluid motion. His mouth was on you instantly, warm and wet and hungry, tracing a path of open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone, nipping at the sensitive skin as you arched into him.

The cold air against your exposed skin made you shiver, but the heat radiating from him burned hotter. His hands roamed freely, kneading, squeezing, memorizing.

“You drive me insane,” he muttered, dragging his lips down your stomach. “You know that?”

You grinned, threading your fingers through his hair. “Good.”

Bucky let out a breathless chuckle before gripping your hips, pulling you closer. His belt clinked as he unbuckled it, the anticipation making your pulse skyrocket.

His lips brushed against yours again, softer this time, slower, as if savoring the moment. His forehead rested against yours as he guided himself to your entrance, his breath warm against your mouth.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

You did.

And as he pushed inside, stretching you inch by inch, the world outside the office faded into nothing.

Your gasp mingled with his low groan, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you flush against him.

“Jesus, you feel perfect,” he rasped, pressing his lips to your jaw.

He started slow, deliberate, savoring every inch of you. The desk creaked beneath you, the rich wood warm against your back as he moved, each thrust pushing you further into the surface.

Your nails dragged down his back, and he groaned, gripping your hips tighter. “Fuck, baby.”

You moaned as he snapped his hips, deep and controlled, his pace toeing the line between sensual and desperate. His name spilled from your lips in a breathless plea, and it only spurred him on.

Bucky lifted one of your legs, hooking it around his waist, sinking deeper, hitting a spot that had you clenching around him.

His mouth found yours again, swallowing your cries as he chased both your releases, the rhythm between you relentless and intoxicating.

He was losing himself in you—right there, on the desk where he made decisions that changed the world.

And right now, the only decision that mattered was this.

Because if the world outside this office was going to war against the two of you, then Bucky Barnes was damn sure going to claim you as his first.

And he did. Over and over again.

The only sound in the office was the slowing rhythm of your breaths, tangled together, heavy with the remnants of what just happened.

Bucky didn’t move right away. He kept you pinned to the desk, his forehead resting against yours, as if the moment he pulled away, the world would come crashing back in.

His hands, still gripping your waist, loosened slightly, smoothing over your skin, tracing gentle circles against your hips. His lips ghosted over your cheek, your jaw, then finally your lips—soft, lingering kisses that made you shiver.

“You okay?” His voice was low, raspy, still thick with the weight of it all.

You nodded, exhaling shakily, a small, breathless laugh escaping you. “Yeah. More than okay.”

His lips quirked, pressing another kiss to your forehead before finally pulling back, his hands still resting on either side of your hips. The absence of his warmth made you whimper slightly, and he chuckled.

“Don’t pout, sweetheart,” he teased, brushing a thumb over your swollen lips. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smirked, stretching out on the desk, utterly satisfied, your body still thrumming with the aftershocks. “You’re the one who said you think about this every time you sit at this desk.”

Bucky scoffed, reaching for his discarded shirt on the floor and tossing it over you.

He leaned down, his nose nudging yours, lips brushing in a whisper of a kiss. “You—laid out right here, looking like a fucking dream—” He groaned against your skin. “I swear to God, you’re gonna ruin me.”

You grinned, pulling him down for another slow, lazy kiss, letting him savour you.

For a few perfect moments, there was no Ethan, no election, no Hydra—just the two of you tangled together in this stolen moment.

Bucky’s fingers traced idle patterns over your bare thigh, his other hand bracing against the desk as he just looked at you, drinking you in.

A quiet sigh left your lips, your fingers weaving through his hair, absentmindedly playing with the strands. “We’ll figure this out, you know.”

He hummed, skeptical but appreciative. “Ethan running against me isn’t just about politics. You know that, right?”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “You never trusted him.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched slightly. “Damn right I didn’t.”

You smirked. “You were just jealous.”

His eyes darkened, and in a second, he had you pinned beneath him again, his lips brushing over your ear. “Can you blame me?”

A shiver ran through you as his mouth moved to your throat, leaving slow, open-mouthed kisses against your pulse. “Bucky—”

“I hate how close he got to you.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “Hate that he thought he had a chance.”

You sighed, threading your fingers through his hair. “He never did.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his hand coming up to cup your face. His thumb stroked your cheek, blue eyes searching yours like he needed to hear it again.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, firm but reverent. “Yeah?”

You smiled softly, tilting your head into his touch. “Yeah, Buck. I’m yours.”

For a moment, he just looked at you—like he wanted to memorize this exact moment. Then he kissed you, slow and deep, like he was sealing a promise neither of you dared to speak aloud.

The world outside could wait.

Because right now, nothing else mattered but this.

Until—

Knock, knock.

“Barnes! Open the damn door!”

Bucky groaned into your mouth, his forehead dropping against yours. “Are you fucking kidding me.”

You burst out laughing, pushing at his chest. “You should probably get that.”

He sighed dramatically but didn’t move, his lips grazing yours one last time.

“I swear to God, if this isn’t important—”

The knocking got louder, followed by Sam’s unmistakable voice.

“Don’t make me break this door down, man. I got the shield with me!”

Bucky let out a defeated groan, resting his hands on either side of you before pulling away. He stood, grabbing his shirt off the floor, but not before shooting you a lingering, heated glance that promised this wasn’t over.

“You owe me,” he muttered, making you laugh.

You sat up, adjusting his oversized shirt over your bare skin as he finally moved to open the door—

And the world came rushing back in.

Bucky tensed immediately, eyes cutting toward the door. You adjusted your shirt and smoothed your hair as he crossed the room.

When he opened it, Sam Wilson stepped inside like a man on a mission, followed by Joaquin Torres, who gave you a sheepish wave.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sam said, eyes flicking between the two of you with a knowing smirk. “But we’ve got intel. The kind that can’t wait.”

Bucky leaned against the edge of the desk, posture straightening. “What is it?”

Sam didn’t waste time. “President Ross has been transported to The Raft. Isolated. Banner’s serum’s stabilizing his gamma sickness, but he’s off the grid for now—maximum security.”

“Good,” Bucky muttered. “Means he’s out of the way.”

You watched quietly, pulse still steadying from earlier, but the energy in the room had shifted. Something tense hung in the air, and it only thickened when Joaquin stepped forward.

“We’ve got a plan,” he said. “To burn Hydra’s Russia base to the ground. Wipe it off the map.”

Your stomach dropped.

Bucky tilted his head. “You’re sure it’s time?”

Sam nodded. “We’ve got the layout, the personnel counts, the weak points. If we move fast, we can dismantle it before Hydra regroups. We’re talking tonight.”

You didn’t speak at first. You just stared at the floor.

Bucky nodded. “Okay, I can be there.” 

Your gaze snapped up to your boyfriend and you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Bucky… can we talk about this first?” You asked in a hushed tone. Bucky said nothing, he just gave you one of those stoic, empty looks, his ocean blue eyes edging for you to continue. So you did. Softly, you said, “I don’t think we should destroy it yet.”

Silence filled the room.

Bucky turned to you, brows pinching together. “What?”

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat. “I—I need to know what happened to me there, Buck. I need to remember.”

“What are you suggesting?” Bucky shared a glance with Sam and Joaquin, who looked equally as perplexed.

“I can go and investigate myself. I know the room they kept me in, I can find answers… I just need a little time.” You explained, your voice trailing away. Bucky didn’t know it yet, but you had learned to fight for this very reason; you had been training with Yelena for this very moment. Now was your chance. It had to be now. You couldn’t let the guys destroy the one thing that would give you the closure you needed to heal and move on. 

Bucky let out an exhale. “It’s not safe—”

You felt a sting in your chest. “You don’t get to decide that,” you cut in before he could finish, voice rising before you could stop it. “You don’t get to erase it like it never happened just because it’s easier for you.”

His expression shifted. From concern to hurt. Then anger. And you felt your heart ache when you knew what was coming. “You think this is easy for me?” he snapped. “You think I don’t wake up every night wondering what they did to you in that hellhole? You don’t even remember yourself!”

“Then why won’t you let me go back?” You stepped forward now, shaking, feeling the confrontation bubble inside of you. “You, of all people, you should understand why I need this.”

His jaw clenched. “And why is that?” He beckoned.

“Because— you are the Winter Soldier.” You regretted the words as soon as they left your lips.

The colour drained out of Bucky’s face. 

“Were— you were the Winter Soldier,” you corrected yourself but your voice was merely above a whisper. The damage had already been done.

“So that’s who you see me as?” Bucky asked, his eyes glazed with unshed tears. He took a step back from you, a frown set deep in his face. The look of betrayal. 

“No—Bucky, I misspoke. I just—” Your voice cracked. “I’m scared. I don’t know what they did to me. There are pieces missing. Yelena has noticed things about me and I’m afraid something is wrong. It’s like I’m changing. And I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d shut me down, just like you are doing right now.”

Bucky ran a hand through his dark hair. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“That’s not protection, Bucky. That’s control.”

“I’m not trying to control you—”

“But that’s what it feels like!” You didn’t care that Sam and Joaquin were still standing there. “You don’t listen. You don’t ask what I want. You just decide.”

His voice dropped to a low growl. “Because what you want might get you killed.”

“Then let it be my choice.”

The silence that followed was thunderous. No one moved. No one breathed.

Joaquin shifted uncomfortably. Sam stepped forward. “Maybe we should give them a minute—”

Bucky didn’t even look at them. He was still staring at you like you’d just torn something out of his chest.

When the door clicked shut behind them, you finally turned away, blinking hard.

“Don’t walk away,” Bucky said behind you.

You faced him with fire in your chest. “Then listen to me. You’re not the only one with trauma, Bucky. You’re not the only one who had to survive something.”

His mouth parted like he wanted to speak, to take it back, to say anything else—but he didn’t.

You didn’t wait.

You stormed past him, tears spilling hot and fast, and slammed the door behind you as the skies outside opened up with rain. The sound of it swallowed your sobs as you ran through the street, heart aching, chest heaving.

You didn’t see Bucky until he burst into the corridor, following after you.

“Wait!” he shouted, half-soaked already. But before he could chase you, Sam grabbed his arm.

“Give her space, Buck.”

Bucky looked like he might explode from it. “She’s—she’s out there in the rain, I can’t just—”

“She’s hurting,” Sam said firmly. “And you’ve gotta let her breathe.”

Bucky stood there for a long second, fists clenched, chest heaving.

But he didn’t move.

And you didn’t stop running.

You didn’t remember how you got to Yelena’s place.

The rain had soaked through every layer of your clothes, your shoes squelched with every step, and your fingers trembled as you fumbled with the keypad outside her apartment door. By some miracle, you’d remembered the code she always grumbled about changing but never did.

The door creaked open before you could knock.

Yelena stood there, eyes narrowing at the sight of you — dripping wet, shaking, eyes red from crying. She didn’t say a word. Just stepped aside, letting you in.

You left puddles across her hardwood floors, your coat peeling off with a sickening wet slap. Your arms wrapped around yourself, more to hold yourself together than to stay warm.

“I was wondering when you’d come knocking,” she said quietly, moving to grab a towel from the linen closet.

You sank onto her couch, chest still rising and falling too fast. You didn’t know where to begin. The fight replayed over and over again in your head, Bucky’s voice, your own, the look in his eyes—like you’d broken something sacred.

Yelena tossed the towel at you, then walked into the kitchen. You heard cabinets opening, the clink of mugs, the comforting hum of her old kettle. A few moments later, she returned with a steaming cup of tea and a dry blanket. She didn’t press you. Didn’t interrogate. She just sat beside you and let the silence fill the room.

“I said some horrible things,” you mumbled, throat raw. “To Bucky.”

She didn’t respond right away. Just sipped her tea.

“I told him he didn’t understand,” you continued, your voice cracking. “That he was trying to control me. I stormed out.”

Yelena exhaled softly, setting her cup down. “You’re allowed to want answers.”

You turned your head toward her. “He was trying to protect me.”

“Protecting you and deciding for you are not the same thing,” she said, her accent thick but even. “Believe me. I know what it’s like to have people make decisions for your body without your consent.”

You flinched. That hit a little too close to home.

“Red Room?” you asked quietly.

Yelena nodded, eyes darkening. “I spent years being told what I was. What I wasn’t. The scariest part wasn’t the pain. It was the not knowing where they ended and I began.”

You swallowed hard. Your hands curled around the mug in your lap like it was the only thing tethering you.

“I feel like I’m unraveling,” you whispered. “Like something is in me and I don’t understand it. I want to look Bucky in the eye and know he’s not afraid of me.”

Yelena gave you a long look. “He’s not afraid of you. He’s afraid of losing you.”

Your lip trembled. “I’m afraid of that too.”

She leaned in slightly, her voice softer now. “So don’t lose yourself first.”

A beat of silence stretched between you.

“I have to go to Russia,” you said, more to yourself than to her. “I need to find out what happened to me in that place.”

Yelena didn’t hesitate. “Then I’m coming with you.”

You blinked, surprised.

She smirked. “You didn’t think I was gonna let you get all the fun intel, did you? Besides, I’ve got a few ghosts to burn.”

You let out a soft, broken laugh. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” she said simply. “But you’re my friend. And we’re going to get you answers. Then we can blow the place to hell.”

You exhaled, a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Thank you.”

Yelena stood up, cracking her neck. “Now come on. You can’t cry into your tea all night. I’ve got a spare catsuit that’ll fit you, and we’ve got a plane to catch.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re giving me one of your catsuits?”

“Temporarily. You ruin it, I kill you.”

Despite everything, you smiled. Just a little.

You would get the answers you needed, no matter what. You were unstoppable.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Taglist: @imaginecrushes @maplepepperoni @sleepysongbirdsings @sunday-bug @bunnyfella @lktunes12-blog @bellamoret @mrsnikstan @greatenthusiasttidalwave@pancake-05 @theylovethesky @avengersfan25 @nydubs @abitofblues @ferretferretferret @helen-2003 @notreallythatlost @opheliagreenaway @flowerluvr @calzone-d @lil-riddle-kiddle @nameless-ken @ladyvenera @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @josis-teacup @marissa8208 @houseofaegon

[waivyjellyfish]

Milgram but it's Mob100 AU

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

Brief summary of the characters.

Es: A very strong esper, once came to Shidou to become his student, and stayed as part-time worker. They knows perfectly well that Shidou has no psychic powers, but cleverly avoids this conversation.

Shidou: After his family died, he quit the clinic he worked it and decided to open his small massage buisness. He's very bad artist so his advertisement attracts people not only for massage, but also for the exorcism of evil spirits. Tries to tell his student that he has no psychic powers.

Amane: Es' younger sister. She is very attached to Es since they met in the shelter after losing their families and have become family to each other. Feels betrayed after Es found a part-time job and another person they can trust. Wants to wake up her psychic powers so she can keep up with Es.

Jakalope: A murky spirit of unclear origin whose Es prevented to arrange the sect and involve Amane in it. Wants to conquer the world and arrange it whole in a trial. He took Amane’s body to avenge Es and awakened her power as an esper.

Mahiru: A care-taker who took Es and Amane under her care. She had long ago wanted to take custody of the child from the orphanage with her boyfriend. But long after his death finally decided to take care of the two children (they were in a package) Does a lot to make sure the children have anything they need. Perhaps too much. Neither Es nor Amane are used to it at all. But after a while they did trust her.

Mahiru's Boyfriend: He died, but forgot why he died and stayed with the person about whom he had at least some memory. Almost got taken away because Es' first reaction to ghosts is banishment. Lives with Mahiru and the children as another member of the family, even if he's invisible. Was very happy that now not only Es can see him.

Yuno: Es' Sempai in school and an their example for emulating. Not an esper, but good at hiding from people what they don't need to know and behaves as a typical schoolgirl. She act's normal. Es wants to be normal.

Fuuta: Esper, who decided that if he had the power, he could bring justice to the masses. Was instantly one-shoted by Es and their great power, after which he reflected on life and decided to make friends with Es.(guess for whom this all the AU was made)

Kotoko: She was a lawyer, but her activities put her family at risk first, and then herself too, which eventually led to her death. After that she became an evil spirit and started her vigilante activity. When she started to needed a material body, she found Muu.

Mu: A rich girl posessed with evil spirit Kotoko.

Haruka: Muu's stepbrother. Was the one who found Shidou and Es (Shidou's terrible advertisement works perfectly)

Kazui: Esper that couldn't prevent the death of his wife and then plunged into a great depression. Repeated Serizawa's plot-path.

Kayano twins: Telepath brothers from the espers club that Amane entered after awakening.

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

Little pearls I did while I wrote this AU:

Shidou: Es-kun, this is important I don't have... [The deafening sound of the train in the background]

Es: What did you say teacher? We run out of tea for customers? I'll go buy some right now. [evaporates]

Shidou: It's not that I wanted to say, Es-kun...

Neighbors: Mahiru-san, where did you get such a cute little rabbit balloon? We saw your children with it.

Mahiru: I didn’t buy any balloons? Oh! Did they feel relaxed enough to buy a balloon?! We need to celebrate that! [This evening, Es and Amane find the whole house packed with balloons]

Shidou: Es-ku.. [his cup is cracking in half] … Es-kun, I want... [something runs past the window]… ask you to buy some apples..

Es, already on the low start to interrupt the teacher and change the subject, freezes with their mouth open on the half-term: Ah, okay.

[gummiworm-writes]

dottore x gn amab reader

genre: fluffy smut

warnings: MDNI, first time writing smut, top dottore, unprotected sex, cumming inside, biting, posessiveness, dottore views sex as an experiment

a/n: it's been forever since i've posted here, but something Possessed me when i saw dottore in the nod krai preview. also I've never written smut before. so enjoy.

word count: 1,424

zandik never cared for heat. whether it be the humid warmth of the avidya forest forcing him damp, filthy caves to cool down, or the searing dryness of the great red sand invoking heat stroke in the middle of an expedition, heat was never welcomed. the akademiya uniforms, while made to protect one from the sun and sand, just managed to keep all heat in, making the process of cooling down nearly impossible (especially for those unfortunate enough to be thermosensitive, like himself).

the transition to snezhnaya was sudden and jarring. but zandik loved it. the subzero temperatures were perfect for him. in the cold, you can always layer clothing. but in the heat, you can only get so naked. being in snezhnaya felt like perfection. it felt like he was made for this nation, as opposed to his home. he supposed that was his father's genetic influence…he was fontainian, after all. his mother's predisposition for the heat of sumeru never stood a chance.

stepping into the haerysys research center, one feels no warmth, barely any change from the frigid temperature outside the lab. just how zandik -- now known as il dottore -- likes it. segments require little warmth, being mostly mechanical beings. all other employees must simply deal with it.

zandik never cared for heat. but he must admit…the warmth of your arms wrapped around him…it's…pleasant. not overbearing. not burning. just…warm. nice and warm. it made him feel…odd. it was a feeling he hadn't experienced for centuries. It intrigued him. you intrigued him. you made him enjoy warmth. you made him enjoy touch. what else could you make him feel?

he wanted to explore the extent to which your touch makes him feel. you were new. you were…special. he had to know.

an invitation to dinner was uncommon with dottore. he was usually too wrapped up in his research to pay much attention to you. so when he had you dress in your nicest outfit while he donned a stunning suit, it surprised you. he wore a dark blue dress shirt with a white tailcoat jacket and white dress pants, a bow-tie and a white coat with a feather trim. it had been years since he'd worn a suit…let alone one with a bow-tie. he'd never admit it, but the pop of pink made him smile. he rarely had time to dress up…he even tied up his hair.

the restaurant he chose was cygne de glace, an extremely expensive fontaine-style restaurant in the heart of snezhnaya's capital. the head chef was a disciple of the effie escoffier. 

it was…romantic. again, uncommon with dottore. “frivolous distractions from reality,” is how he refers to romantic endeavors. but this dinner…he’s booked a private table, there are candles and roses, soft music is playing in the background…he buys you everything he asks for. after all, he can write off the bill as research expenses. technically, it’s not even a lie. even so, he can always pull rank on pantalone if he questions it.

his eyes rarely leave yours throughout the entire dinner. though, of course, it’s impossible to tell with his mask on. but you can feel it. you can feel it in the way he rests his chin on his fist, the way his lips quirk up in a smile. in the way his voice sounds when he asks you the simplest of questions. in the way his hand slides over to cover yours on the table.

when dottore hurries you back into the carriage that brought you, he seems almost urgent. he helps you up and enters quickly after, whispering something to the driver, who immediately starts going. he sits next to you, resting his hand on your thigh and leaning his head on top of yours. no words are spoken, but you can hear him softly humming the song playing in the restaurant, his thumb rubbing your thigh.

he led you through his personal estate. it was clear that it wasn't well lived in. though, it was…surprisingly ornate. all white and blue, it was reminiscent of delftware pottery. though, you had little time to observe any of the details. seeming almost impatient, he picked you up in his arms, bridal style, and carried you up the stairs.

his bedroom was…massive. dark blue walls with two large gothic windows on either side of an arched wrought iron glass door, leading out to a balcony. the adjacent walls were lined with bookshelves, each shelf completely full. there was one dark blue cabriole sofas on either side, with ornately carved wooden tables in front of them. this was all nothing compared to his bed, though. it was a massive poster bed with a beautifully carved wooden frame, piles of pillows perfectly arranged, and a large, dark blue down-filled comforter. though, it was clear it was rarely used.

he laid you down on the bed as you felt the plushness of it all take you in. you swear you saw him smile from above you, his arms on either side of you, caging you in. 

“...i assume this…affair has been pleasing to you?” he asks, his voice low, almost melodic in a way that you’ve never heard from him before. “This is…all new to me…nobody has ever caught my eye the way you do, pet.”

the beak of his mask brushes against your nose, causing him to sigh.

“it is…quite early in this little…interrelation for this, but…” he sighs, one of his hands traveling down, feeling the warmth through your clothing. it’s almost addictive, the way you send heat through his body. “...i suppose there’s no reason not to, hm?”

his hand (reluctantly) leaves your side and raises to his face. with a quiet “click,” his mask dislodges, and you can finally see his beautiful red eyes, almost glowing in the darkness alongside his earring.

his eyes flit to your lips, his brows knitting together as he studies them. Carefully, he places his lips on yours in a quick kiss. the first real kiss he’s had in centuries. he kisses you again. and again…and again. his kisses deepen, lasting longer and longer with each press, and eventually, you feel his tongue swipe against your bottom lip.

zandik never cared for heat. but when he first plunged into you, the warmth that enveloped him brought a feeling he’d never felt before. 

the hot, tight sensation of your hole was almost enough to make him finish on the spot. his eyes were trained on the spot where you connected, seeing your cock bounce as he pounded into you like a desperate animal. his mouth was practically glued to your neck, sucking and biting, even drawing blood. the warmth of your blood on his lips…archons, he couldn’t breathe…

his hands gripped your hips harder, with a strength that would surely bruise. you and your warmth were the only things he could even fathom thinking about in the moment. he needed this. he needed you. you made him feel something brand new. you…

…you made him feel human.

for the first time ever.

he couldn’t think. he barely even heard your strangled moans or the clap of your hips connecting. all that was running through his head was “mine…mine…mine…”

your hole tightened around him, and he let out a stifled gasp. he gripped you tightly and sped up his thrusts, sending shockwaves through your body, his forehead pressed against yours as he whispered nonsense. 

you tightened again, this time even more, and he felt your cum spurt out onto his stomach. he pressed into you one final time and filled you up, completely and wholly his.

he didn’t even seem to realize that you had passed out.

---

when you awaken, you’re in a bathtub, a solid body behind you. his hands gently clean you with a sponge, with a gentleness you’ve never known him to have. zandik cleans you up in the warm water, making sure you’re as comfortable as can be. he’s humming that song again.

the bed is already remade when he carries you back, much to your surprise. he climbs into his bed for the first time in forever, cradling you in his arms as he does so, placing a gentle kiss to your temple as he caresses your sides.

zandik never cared for heat. but you…you gave him a new type of warmth. he wasn’t quite sure what it was yet. the effects you had on him were still a mystery. but this study had proven one thing: further research was required.

he’d have to do this more often.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

"The purple man (pt.10)"

or "Something made a hole in my backyard (pt.10)"

Shadow the hedgehog x reader (platonic)

Notes: Kind of short, it feels as if I was kind of stuck in this current scenario, anyways, I am now avaible for comission, if you wanted an one shot or something...

Remember to comment if you like the chapter! Enjoy!

Part 9

The second time you woke up your eyes were no longer blurry.

And, even though it took you a little while to adjust your sight, you could finally see what your surroundings looked like. The room you were in had no windows, it was lit up by a bunch of neon purple lights that were installed in long lines across the walls. And the walls, those were made of metal and shaped to make the room appear spherical.

It kind of looked what you thought the inside of a cyber punk style bedroom would look like.

And in front of you, five meters away, was a metal door.

You decided to test your body and sit up, thankfully your body responded. There was no pain, no headache or painfull throb in any zone, you were still wearing the same clothes that you were wearing the night before, but there was a blanket covering you.

You decided to get off the bed, the cold floor freezing your feet, but nonetheless you aproached the metal door slowly, as if it would attack you out of nowhere.

The hiss of the door sliding open truly did nothing to ease the knot in your stomach, a wave of cold washing all over you and making your hairs stand in end.

But nothing came through the door.

On the other side was a hallway, the style very similar to the room you were just in, with purple lights everywhere. It kind of reminded you of a night club, only without music, and without people. Not that it helped calming you down.

Walking down the corridor you chastised yourself for the null instinct of self-preservation you posessed, you had decided to go towards the right, no real thought behind the choice, only a deep desired to get the fuck out of wherever it was you were.

What had you done in order to end up in this situation? There was really nothing coming to mind, besides, who could have kidnaped you? And why?

I mean, you did take in an alien hedgehog at your home, but you were sure that the goverment currently had bigger things to worry about, like... the moon being only half of what it used to be.

Finally the hallway was coming to an end, with yet another metal door waiting for you. When that one didn´t open like the previous on you pushed yourself against it, trying to make it budge.

You couldn´t help but think about Shadow, was he at home? was he safe? Or had whoever had taken you taken him as well? Coul he possibly be scared?

Oh god, would you ever see him again?

And your uncle Tom, you had never apologised, not to him neither to your aunt Maddie. Were your parents worried about you? you hadn´t talked with them in the last few days.

There was people out there waiting for you, you could not stay here forever.

Before your thought got the best of you the door slided open with a hiss.

You didn´t have time to react and fell to the ground instead.

A pair of combat boots appeared right in your field of vision. Looking up you found that the boots were attached to a man, his coat almost blending into the background, given it was a similar purple color, vintage red round glasses decorated his face, along with a well trimmed beard, and a slightly unsettling smile.

"Well, hello there"

Tom felt bad. Well, maybe "bad" was an understatement, he felt terrible.

That morning he had been preparing everything in order to go camping with Sonic, Tails and Knuckles, Maddie was also going along after much convincing. Truth was, she felt terrible as well.

They had not heard a single word from you since the day you had argued. They had called, but you never answered, it had almost gotten to the point in which Maddie tried to go to your house to make sure Shadow hadn´t attacked you.

But Tom had stopped her before she did anything that could make you any more angry at her.

And so the idea of going camping had came up, as a way of relaxing and forgetting everythyng stressful from the last week.

Your aunt had refused, and it had taken a lot of talking about what Sonic had told him about Shadow to prove that he was probably not going to try to harm you.

The wet puppy faces from the alien children had also helped a lot in convincing her.

But anyways, there he was, driving his truck to the woods to set up a camping spot with his family, and even though his gut wrenched and his heart beated way to fast for his liking there was nothing he was going to do about you.

You were a responsible adult, he trusted you to take care of yourself.

Taglist:@boogiemansbitch@vxllys@whoisgami@baby-bloos@sapphireravensworld@mothmanperson@4rm-the-mf-concrete@eliknowsnothing@pooplyface1423@kyouzki@moon-trash1507@shadowforlive@multifandom-501

[hyomaslut]

──★ ˙🍒 ̟ !! SAY THAT YOU MISS ME. 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ɢᴏɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇx

✿ ─ characters: bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, rin itoshi ✿ ─ cw: somewhat angst, nsfw, smut, gn!reader, afab!reader, no pronouns, aged-up!characters(21+), established relationships??, exes to lovers, kissing, groping, dirty talk, semi-public sex, lots of jealousy, alcohol use, posessiveness, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, toxic behaviors/dynamics, use of foul language, suggestive themes, proofread?? ✿ ─ notes: they are straight up drabbles. i wrote hyoma's first and i was like, omg this is way too long. fuck it, hope i can get the others close to this word count. and then they were longer. im so sorry i promise next time i wont be so long winded.

BACHIRA MEGURU is unsettled by the silence that lingers in your absence...

he honestly doesn’t know what to do with himself. the heavy loneliness he feels in a bed far too big for just one person is almost enough to push him to call you, staring at your contact for at least an hour. you were best friends. partners in crime. a power couple. how could things be over? he misses your voice more than anything else, all the time in his day usually spent deep in conversation with you now feeling empty.

he could tell that he reached a real pathetic stage of heartbroken when he started listening to old voicemails from you at night, but couldn’t find it in himself to care as he smiles at your laugh and tears up at your i love you’s. that turns into scrolling through photos he has of you, and then that has his mind drifting to the hidden album he has dedicated to you, full of the numerous risqué shots you’ve sent him over the course of your relationship. meguru doesn’t dwell on the moral dilemma of keeping the pictures, they were his after all. either gifted to him or taken by him, so he feels he has some sort of right to them. when he scrolls to a particular video from his point of view of your pretty mouth wrapped around his tip, his hand almost immediately moves to palm his crotch. he tugs down his boxers to stroke himself to the scene of you deepthroating his cock, the sweet sound of your moans and sputters through his phone speaker making both his dick and his heart ache for you.

after some time spent desperately trying to create a cheap imitation of the pleasure you make him feel, bachira grows frustrated. it’s really unfair now that he thinks about it. how could you indulge him in all his deepest fantasies and give him the wildest hottest fucks of his life only to leave him high and dry in the end? finally giving up on cumming, covered in a thin layer of sweat, he opens his phone again in some lust fueled bravery, texting you hey can we talk?

in your apartment, you were dedicating your evening to trying not to think about all the ways you missed your ex, knowing that the first few weeks of a break up were the hardest. you stand up from the couch, breaking out of your thoughts and hoping to just distract yourself for the time being. picking up your cell was extremely counter productive in that regard, your heart jumping at a text from megs ‹𝟹. he wants to talk. seeing that the text was sent half an hour ago, you jump to reply yeah sure. when? you don’t even think before accepting, the chance to bask in his attention one more time is too tempting when missing him this much. the contact picture you set for him pops up, indicating an incoming call.

you take a breath in the tense silence, offering a somewhat unsure, “hello?” his end of the call comes to life all of a sudden, finally connecting through his current shoddy service. he sounds slightly out of breath and you hear a faint ding in the background. the grainy noises let you know that he probably wasn’t in the quiet privacy of his home as he usually would be at this time. “meguru? is now a bad time to talk?”

“no! now's a good time,” he reassures, “i’m in the elevator up to your place.”

“you’re what?”

there’s some more shuffling from him and quick footsteps that echo both from the call and the hallway outside your apartment. “open up.”

there’s apprehension floating somewhere in your mind, but the big part of you that was very much not over him moves your feet towards the door, unlocking it. as soon as the physical barrier between you and him is gone, there is a completely different tone that settles and you almost sense it before it happens when he pushes forward to crash his lips onto yours. he didn’t exactly have a plan showing up, but seeing you, there was only one thing his body wanted to do. your back collides with the wall of your entryway, one of his hands already on the back of your head to cushion the blow, his other arm coiled around your waist to press you flush against him. unaware of it, the two of you share the same thought. this is 1000 times better than being alone tonight.

“meguru.” you call out trying to gently push against his chest to create some room between you. trying to be the rational one and state the obvious facts. you broke up with him. he shouldn’t be here. it’ll just cause more heartache for the both of you. but tingles run up his back when you say his name that way, breathless as he steals all the air from you. fuels his need to hold onto you tighter and not let you go this time around. eventually you manage to get your hand over his mouth to stop him from kissing you before your resolve really breaks and you let this go too far. “megu we shouldn’t. this is hard enough as it is-”

he pries your fingers away, and just when you think he is going to say something, convince you, justify himself, he dips his head down to capture your lips again, gently sucking on the bottom one to draw out a gasp so he can shove his tongue in. greedy hands grab at your thighs, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he can shamelessly rut his hips against yours. he makes it hard to think straight, pulling away after a moment to stare into your eyes, giving you that signature wild look that causes your knees to go weak. “tell me you don’t want me.”

“huh?”

“look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want me.” he watches you expectantly, his impatience showing when he begins softly rocking into you. “cause we both know nobody else can make you cum like i can. let me make you feel good.”

you don’t find the strength to turn down his offer, not when you’re already panting at the affection he’s given you and soaking from the rhythmic press of his hard cock against you. bachira relishes the relief and arousal that floods through him when you wrap your arms around his neck to drag him into another sloppy kiss, and you feel his grin grow against your lips. the competitor in him recognizes a challenge, his heart pounding in perverse excitement. he has one chance to prove to you just how much you need him. lucky for you, that’s the kind of risk your ex gets off on.

CHIGIRI HYOMA is unreasonably bitter...

you and him are a perfect match, and the thought of you ever replacing him makes him sick. the egoist in him can’t stand the idea of someone stealing his role in your life. someone else taking you out, having your attention, putting their hands on you. deep down some rational part of him knows that he doesn’t stake any claim over you anymore, but the sinking pit in his stomach does nothing to alleviate the gut instinct that you’re his.

it eats at him. chigiri feels childish stalking your social media or casually asking mutual friends about you. he doesn’t want to seem affected, but he just can’t help but give into his curiosity. this same ‘curiosity’ is what leads him to hanging out in the bars he knows you frequent, either with friends or without. he hardly admits to himself that he’s hoping to run into you, but when it actually does happen, hyoma doesn’t hesitate to approach. he’s unsure if it’s the irresistible pull of being within arms reach of you again, or the selfish intuition to make his move on you before anyone else has the chance.

it seems innocent enough. he’s as charismatic and lighthearted as ever, offering to catch up, buy you a drink or two. chemistry you’ve always shared slowly surfaces through conversation. there was no denying that he had his charms, ones that hit all your soft spots just like the first time he won you over. so when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you on your way out of the bathroom, and wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall over from tipsy imbalance, you barely even question it. being in his embrace is familiar and there is a glance shared between you with a certain spark to it that it’s only natural he leans down to kiss you. hyoma is nothing if not an opportunist, smoothly steering you back into the small bar bathroom, his lips and tongue never leaving you.

he’s panting into your mouth between hungry kisses, hands already tugging at your clothing. his teeth find your neck, sucking and biting warm bruises in his wake, eager to mark every inch of skin he can latch onto. before you get the chance to playfully tease him about crawling back to you, your body is twisted around and bent forward over the sink. your eyes dart to the mirror in front of you, meeting his smug grin as he yanks your pants and underwear down your thighs.

hyoma reaches his hand around to dip between your folds, deft fingers rubbing languid circles into your clit the way he knows you like. if it werent for the cocktails you would be embarrassed by the way you immediately melt into his touch, whimpers readily escaping you. “you’re already whining like that and i’ve barely even touched you, this pussy must’ve really missed me, huh?”

pleasure shoots up your core, arching your back at the feeling, pressing your ass into the bulge straining against his jeans. a moan bubbles up in his throat, but he’s quick to close his mouth, muffling the sound to a soft grunt, not willing to indulge you in the reactions you always seek to draw out of him. his hips push forward to grind into yours, the hard outline of his cock enough to remind you of what more you could be having instead of this PG13 dry humping session. you try to catch his gaze in the mirror, but it never leaves the place where you connect, giving you only soft thrusts while his fingers are unrelenting against your clit. “hyoma.” you manage to get out between heavy breaths. pink eyes finally travel up to meet yours. “please give it to me.”

and on a normal day, your ex-boyfriend would’ve dragged out the foreplay and teased you until you’re near tears and begging him for more, but something about the way you ask feels like a confession. that you wanted him just as desperately as he had been craving you. it sparks a fire up chigiri’s spine, wasting no time shoving the tight denim down to release himself. soon enough the tip of his pretty dick is squished against your entrance. his jaw is clenched from the restraint it takes not to immediately bury himself balls deep, grabbing your waist to keep steady.

any doubts that he had about still pining after you are gone, because the first tight clench of your cunt around his tip confirms what he’s always wholeheartedly believed. you were fucking made for him.

“god fuck,” he mutters breathily, biting down onto his bottom lip as he watches your hole swallow his entire length. his hips wind back, not getting far before the grip your walls have on him forces him to slowly sink back in. “anyone else fill you up this good, angel? get you this wet?” he asks, one of his hands grabbing hold of your hair to make you properly face him in the reflection again, wearing a cocky smirk that makes your stomach do flips.

a pout forms on your lips at his leisurely thrusts, far from enough to satisfy you, especially when you’ve seen firsthand the speed and effort he is depriving you of. “i don’t know, im getting a bit bored here princess,” you mock, despite the way you’re barely able to contain your noises as is.

without warning his pace becomes the staple unrelenting and overwhelming one you fantasize about while futilely trying to get off on your own. hyoma lets go of your hair in favor of clamping down over your mouth, loud moans already beginning to spill out around his fingers. the sight of the typically cool-headed prince losing his nonchalance, fucking you with pure ego and a savage glimmer in his eyes isn’t something you’ll easily forget. “this what you wanted? only satisfied when i fuck you stupid, right?"

ITOSHI RIN is not a fan of losing you, but loves getting you back...

rin doesn’t fall in love easily. he doesn’t know exactly how you managed it, but you barged into his life unannounced and dragged love out of him with your unrelenting company and killer smile. and rin was no willing victim either, figuratively kicking and screaming the whole way with his many cold moments and guarded emotions. in the end you won, with him wrapped helplessly around your finger. while rin would prefer to deny you any power over him, there’s a fire that burns in his chest for you that demands he give you everything he has. and he does.

but his love proves to be too much and not enough. too much in the ways of his possessive tendencies and clinginess and toxic defensiveness. and not enough in the way that it doesn’t keep you around. not that he blames you for it, although he does get the occasional bitter thought that you should’ve known to leave him alone from the start. deep down he knows he doesn’t really mean it, preferring even this pitiful longing you leave him with to the dark cloud that was his life before you. and it’s what he fears of returning to if you ever manage to fully pull away from him one day.

the first time you break up, rin admittedly doesn’t deal with it well. after endless calls and texts and showing up at your place with flowers and vulnerability, you take him back, only to return to the same arguments when his jealousy issues get out of hand. he wished he could say the second or third time went differently. fourth time around, however, rin gains some semblance of dignity and decides to keep his distance. maybe it was time to give moving on the good old college try. what other option did he have? as in love with you as he was, he couldn’t force you to stay and wasn’t well equipped to do the soul searching necessary to rid himself of all the behaviors that bothered you. maybe this was a lesson he needed to grow into the type of guy you could see yourself with. at least he intended to take that route, until you showed up at his house a few days later begging for him to forgive you for ever thinking you could live without him. he doesn’t even feel embarrassment over how easily he caves. it can’t be his fault when that night you swore you’d always belong to him while screaming his name. that same night he resolved that no matter what happened, you were it for him, and until you told him without a shadow of a doubt that you no longer loved him, he would return to you every time.

it started this viscous cycle of an on and off again relationship, fueled by passion and possession from both parties. one that rin never planned on ending as long as it was the only way he got to call you his, feeling a deep sense of comfort in the fact that you were weak for him too. that’s why he’s unsurprised hearing a knock on his door at 11PM. a new record considering it only been a day since the huge fight that caused your latest break up, not that rin was keeping count.

he has to stop himself from running to the door, because if he was honest he was thinking of grabbing his keys and heading to you minutes earlier. it doesn’t take more than a, “i’m so sorry baby,” to have him scooping you up into his arms on instinct. the familiar security of your legs wrapped around his hips, hands grabbing at your ass as he carries you to his bed, makes up for the self-loathing mess he becomes in the aftermath of every separation.

none of that other stuff matters when he gets to have you under him like this, already whining in anticipation as he peels away your bottom layers. rin can’t resist leaning in for a quick kiss to your clit before looking up at you from between your legs. a finger ghosts along your slit causing you to squirm and lean up towards the touch before one of his strong hands pushes you firmly to the bed, resting just under your navel. fortunately for you, rin is terrible at denying you the things he knows you want. especially when he’s practically drooling for you, letting the excess spit dribble out of his mouth and onto your cunt. you feel him lick long stripes from your entrance to your clit before wrapping his lips around it.

rin eats you as if it were his first meal in days. being apart from you always seemed a whole lot longer when he has to fear if you really mean it this time when you say you wanna stop seeing him. so he allows himself to be greedy, laves at your slick ravenously with a loud groan and humping his hips against the mattress to relieve his cock that’s already leaking in his boxers. your hands bury themselves in his hair, throwing your head back in pleasure as he bites down into your thigh, leaving an imprint of his teeth. “god you taste so good. you’re fucking criminal for trying to keep this perfect pussy from me.”

his free hand wanders to your core, two fingers easily slipping inside from a mix of your juices and his drool, curling to just the right spot. he sucks your clit into his mouth, your sweet moans fill the air and he has to stop his thrusts to keep himself from cumming in his pants at the sound, pulling away from you with a lewd pop. “‘ts mine,” he grunts out, “you’re fucking mine, and no one can make you feel like this but me. say it.”

“only you rin! ‘m yours!” you choke out, bucking against the pressure he puts on your stomach. satisfied with your response, he dives back in, fingers pumping into you with steady rhythm and using his tongue to lap up everything that leaks out. his intense gaze stays trained on yours with a newfound determination to make you feel so good, you’re ruined for anyone else but him.

“all mine.”

◑.◑ its honestly tempting to write a whole fic for rin…

© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.

[cornflowersandspoons]

Aaaaaa finally finished this thing, that has been a wip for almost two months now (couse basically, whenever I got too fed up with school or work, I kept adding to it 😅 thank you Dead Apple movie for keeping my sanity safe 🥰)

Putting the art history lessons to a hopefully good use. ☺️

Vanitas Vanitatum: "Vanity of vanities"; A type of painting from the 17th century. A still life depicting objects that remind the viewer of the fugitiveness of time and earthly posessions, pursuits, desires and obsessions. (Such as food, wine, money, jewelry, books etc.)

Chorea Machabæorum: "Dance of the Maccabees"; The dance of the dead is an artistic representation of the power of death. In the medival period such paintings showed people from all social backgrounds, both the living and dead, dancing together: in front of death everyone is equal.

Memento Mori: "Remember that you have to die"; An artistic or symbolic trope acting as a reminder of the inevitability of death.

Also, made a version wher the side thingies are red, but I think I like the black ones better. 😅

[anexistingexistence]

I know nobody pays attention to little details in writing because most of the time I don't either but here's an over-analyzation/breakdown of one sentence from a side-work I'm sporadically updating.

Background info: this is the sequel to my one-shot Opening Up (feel free to read that btw I mean what) written in third-person omniscient but (for the beginning part at least) focused on William.

1) William strictly refers to Sam by Samuel. Not just because it sounds good and gives the written text a distinct William-like feel, but because William doesn't want to get overly attached to Sam like he did with Vincent or Alexis, both of whom he rarely addresses by name when he thinks about them.

2) "Radiant" is a a specific word choice reserved for William and people of similar age, which I would never (or extremely rarely) use in any other character's perspective, because it, again, gives the text a more William-like (/aged) feeling.

3) The correction "it pulled- no tore" is meant to show how William only slowly realized how much the situation is actually bothering him. That it went from "this is annoying" to "fuck this shit" without him consciously realizing so.

4) "(it) tore at William's nerve" is a conscious change of the phrase "pulling at somebody's heartstrings" because the word heartstrings would have implied a too emotional and perhaps loving connectiong to the situation, while "nerve" just show William's annoyance and some posessiveness.

5) Porter is referred to as William's closest confidant because that is the closest relationship-status William is willing to attribute to him. Similarly to his relationship with Sam, William wants to maintain a safe distance with Porter while simultaneously acknowledging that that is rather difficult given their circumstances.

6) "a facade that was reserved for hunting" refers to flirting. To William, flirting (for the majority of his time) is only a means to an end, so he sees it as unnecessary to do something like that when there is no intention of feeding on the person being flirted with.

7) "the wolf" is my go-to replacement for "Darlin'" because I'm trying to be immersive and suddenly giving William of all people a southern drawl would give me a stroke.

Anyway all of those thoughts happened simultaneously within ten seconds as I was typing that one sentence in my document and it's wild to write and voice all of them out lmao

[savannahsdeath]

HEAR ME OUT I HAVE A REQ!!!!

Sooo basically Ellie being the mafia boss and reader being her precious girlfriend that she (and basically the whole mafia gang) protects.... Idk it could be a fic or just a oneshot but I NEED MAFIA ELLIE IN MY LIFE

HEARING YOU OUT !!

MAFIA!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! just some typical mafia shit idk

writers note: focused more on life life than romantic life in this one BUT maybe, just maybe, I'll do a part2 with more love scenes (basically a smut)

being a housewife for your mafia boss girlfriend wasn't something you were dreaming about as a kid, but you like it. ellie's buddies are loud, suspicious, they make lots of inappropriate jokes or act all posessive but they would never hurt you. in fact, they won't let anyone hurt you.

today, just like every friday, she brings them home to play cards and talk. you, of course, had to clean the whole house. ellie didn't ask you to do that - her people weren't.. the cleanest people anyway, but you couldn't stand the thought of your guests finding a layer of dust on a shelf or a ball of hair in the bathroom.

the doorbell rings and you run up to greet them, and, mainly, see ellie. as you open the door, you're presented with a bunch of burly men and only one, but your favourite, woman.

"good evening, mrs williams." smiles the first one, before entering.

the feeling of being called by ellie's last name was still new to you, but it sent a warm feeling from your heart down to your stomach.

you stand back and watch as the men enter, filling out your living room. they seem more at ease than usual, and you're sure ellie is to blame. they greet you with a smile, before stepping aside to reveal ellie last.

"hey, babe." ellie says, as she wraps her arms around you and pulls you in close. she smiles up at you, with those green eyes of hers. she leans in for a kiss, and you gladly give in to her, feeling her soft lips on yours. you get lost in the moment, forgetting to breathe and not pulling away for a quite long time, only making a break when it's really needed.

"c'mon, ellie, or we'll start playing without you!" one of the men calls out from the dining table.

the men's voices in the background quickly fade away as you are consumed in the moment.

ellie, though, pulls away, and laughs. "i'm coming, i'm coming!" she shouts before letting go of you and walking towards the dining table, with you trailing behind her.

you happily take a seat on ellie's lap, as you both set your eyes on the deck of cards. as she shuffles the cards, you watch in adoration of her every movement. you are quickly snapped out of your trance when you felt something touch your leg, and you see ellie looking at you with a sly grin on her face.

she leans in and whispers; "don't move too much, 'kay?"

she winks and starts to deal out the cards.

usually you tried to avoid looking at ellie's cards - your 'poker face' wasn't really working and your reaction could make her lose. this time, you didn't pay attention to the rules, so you didn't have to avoid it. you didn't know wether her cards are good or useless anyway.

you find yourself not paying much attention to the game, instead getting caught up in the conversations around you. you happily listen to the others, learning more about their business dealings. you don't know much about poker or card games, and you aren't the best at lying, so you keep yourself out of the game.

you start to feel the warmth of ellie's soft, loving touches, as she plays with your hair or strokes your thigh.

the evening continues on with you, ellie and the other men playing a few rounds. you watch her intently, noticing every little detail about her body language and facial expressions. even you couldn't read her poker face, though.

you slowly reach for her hand, and begin to play with it a little, twirling her fingers.

that's one of the good sides of being a mafia boss's wife, but there's also the.. well, worse ones.

they visited you again and you could tell something's wrong straight ahead - it was tuesday. you came back from a walk to see a man tied to a chair in your kitchen. he had pieces of cloth wrapped around his head - one around his eyes and the other in his mouth, making him lose ability to see or speak.

"what do we do with him?" another man asked, one you knew from the friday evenings.

ellie was about to say something before she noticed you, awkwardly standing in the doorstep, scared and too surprised to move. she quickly grabs your arm and steers you out of the kitchen.

"it's okay, love. don't worry, it has nothing to do with you. just stay in the other room, alright? i'll come grab you in a bit. it'll be okay." ellie says reassuringly, as she leads you into the living room.

you hear the sound of the man in the kitchen making muffled sounds, as he struggles and squirms in his chair.

ellie sits you down on the couch, and then walks out of the room. you feel uneasy as you hear the man in the kitchen continue making sounds, but you sit quietly as ellie tells you to.

you watch as the door to the kitchen slowly closes behind ellie, and you hear muffled shouting and noises coming from inside. the others come into the living room, to check on you and see if you're okay.

"hey, everything alright? did ellie tell you what's going on?" one of them asks. "don't worry, it'll all be over soon. we just gotta deal with him quickly."

you can hear the muffled shouting in the kitchen continue, and the other men around you try to ignore it. as they discuss business deals, and joke about various topics, you continue to feel a pit in your stomach, worrying about what is happening in the kitchen. they don't seem eager to tell you what is going on, but they try to keep you distracted. one of them tries to joke with you, but you barely respond, as your mind is focused on what is happening in the next room. you start to feel sick, and your face starts to feel hot.

"what is she doing?" you ask quietly, but as soon as you realize your voice doesn't reveal your fear and confusion you add in a louder tone; "who is he?"

the room goes quiet, as the others hear you speak up. you can see some of the men exchange worried glances, but they still try to keep their composure in front of you. it doesn't do much to help you feel better, as you look at them with fear in your eyes.

the others look among themselves, as if asking what to do, before one of them speaks up. "you know this isn't really something you need to worry about," he says, trying to put a calming tone on his voice. "but since you ask, he's just a guy working for a rival gang. he was trying to get some information on us, so we need to... erm... make sure he won't do it again."

you notice how vague their answer was, as they try to keep you in the dark. at the same time, the meaning was painfully obvious.

you take a moment to process what the man said, before speaking up again. "but.. why here, in our house?" you ask, with your voice still shaky. "surely you must have your places to do... business?"

another man steps in to answer, trying to calm you down with words that sound too well rehearsed.

"no need to worry about a thing." the other man says, in an overly reassuring voice. "like i said, it isn't really your problem. you know, these guys always try to stick their noses where it doesn't belong. your girl here is just showing him the consequences of messing with the wrong people, alright?"

you feel like they are trying to brush off your concerns, and you doubt that they're being completely truthful with you. you knew it's probably just to protect you but you wanted to know everything.

the muffled shouting in the kitchen slowly dies down, and there's only occasional sounds of movement from inside - probably someone cleaning up the mess you could only imagine was done.

you are left feeling confused and anxious, unsure of what happened in the kitchen, or how this will play out.

later, when you were laying in bed in your lace nightgown which ellie loved seeing you in oh so much, you managed to get the tied up man out of your head.

that's what i should expect anyways, right?

ellie just came to the bedroom after taking a shower, her wet hair glued to her face. she kisses you on the cheek, before walking over and climbing onto the bed next to you. you look at her, and notice that something seems off about her behaviour.

"how did it go?" you ask, referring to the events that happened earlier.

ellie is taking her time in answering you, and you notice a slight hesitation in her voice. "it went... well. it's nothing you should worry about, love. besides..." she leans towards you and whispers; "i handled it, alright? you don't need to concern yourself with it." she plays with your hair, making it look like she's trying to distract both you and herself from thinking about it.

you watch as ellie's wet hair drips onto the bed. she continues to stroke your head, trying to give you the impression that everything is fine.

was it really fine? oh, well...

[peanutheaddd]

Ur divine au has me foaming at the mouth it’s so good.

When Petey is possessing him can dm still feel his body before his souls goes dormant or is he disconnected from it? With a stronger soul bond would Petey start to be able to feel dm’s emotional state as well as his physical state? Like he needs to leave for a few days to take care of something and as soon as he goes just feels a mixture of sadness and worry on top of the amount that he already feels having to leave dm and lp but he doesn’t pay much attention to it. When he comes back he’s still feeling this background level of sadness and longing until dm sees him and he’s hit with an overwhelming surge of happiness and relief that nearly knocks him off of his feet.

I totally haven’t been thinking about ur au an abnormal amount no absolutely not lmao

nope dm doesnt feel his body anymore! peteys taken the reigns and hes js along for the ride now . thats why when petey goes all out during the climax altercation dm doesnt tell him to tone it down at any point . he is just as unaware as petey that his body is going through the horrors .

technically the period of his soul not being dormant post possession only exists because the soul doenst immediatley yield to the possession . possession inevitably puts the vessels soul into a dormant state . the time it takes for the soul to go dormant just varies . anyways allat to say that dms situation pre and post soul dormancy isnt all that different. its not even like falling asleep or anything its just . ceasing to exist almost. theres just a hole in his memory where his soul was dormant . it feels like no time passed essentially .

as for a stronger soul bond i think less so than being able to feel each others emotional state its more like. because their souls become used to inhabiting the same space it feels weird to go a long time Without possession .

so its like spiritual unrest??? like if theyre away from each other for long enough they just start feeling restless and irritable and Not Right and they dont rlly know why . they would have to be separated for a pretty long time tho like a few months LOL since petey doenst rlly posess dm that often . only often enough for their souls to get used to each other . I LOVE MY GAY SHIT ASS CATHOLIC DOG MAN AU! 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁

[vaultureculture]

Demo 2.0- Elvia run masterpost

I decided to collect all of his reactions, canon-divergences and dynamics with the characters in one big post rather than the several I made for Phlo.

This will contain spoilers below the cut so be warned!

Elvia's backstory is The Unnamed (a fallen oracle), so I will be reviewing how things go in this route. They are romancing Leander and Ais!

Elvia grew up in an isolated temple floating on a lake. Although they were fooled regarding the nature of their curse and groomed to believe they were something divine, they quickly managed to turn things around so that they'd be in an advantageous position within the temple, getting practically everything they wanted. They are a manipulator out of survival.

They are traveling to Eridia alongside Phlomis (The Hound/Exile). The main HC follows their joint perspective.

This is very true for Elvia. They are rather unsettling. Too pretty, too elegant. Something's off.

It is Phlomis that gets gotten by the soulless in any case, Elvia runs towards Eridia while she holds it back and runs into Kuras eventually, whom they beg for help. They're in the clinic with Kuras and Phlomis later on, listening to their conversation.

Not that much though, Elvia's 1'80, he's not that short. I do wish they'd allow us to have MCs that are not constantly described as dainty and short!! On another note, even with the Unnamed background, they seem to have removed the lines that imply we can sense Kuras is a supernatural entity?? Am I just blind? That's strange to me. It was a very nice addition!

When meeting Leander, Phlo wants to stay at the back of the tavern, while Elvia catches a glimpse of him immediately and wants to approach. Elvia is the one to grab Phlomis and make their way past the crowd just to get a better look at this man.

I think that the speech he's giving is particularly inspiring to Elvia. They have been roaming the world for a while, ultimately reaching the conclusion that humanity needs a savior to rescue it from its self-inflicted doom.

Leander's (alleged) kindness and generosity would entrance Elvia. They are so going to use this guy.

I genuinely don't think that Elvia is as ashamed of their curse as standard MC is. They often still use it as proof of their divinity, just something to convince others that they are special. They are rather accepting of the curse, even if they're still trying to get rid of it. Phlomis is more ashamed, but they use it as a defensive weapon. Adeline (my Alchemist) is the closest to default MC, I would say.

Another strange thing to not give us a choice in ngl. Elvia has indeed never been touched before lmao

Just two freaks avidly touching one another's arms in the light of day, in the middle of the street. Nothing to see. They are SO normal.

I think that Elvia sees Leander as their quick ticket to happiness from this very moment. We talk about Leander being really posessive of MC, but I can assure you that Elvia is just as possessive if not more. You're THEIRS now, little bro. Good luck.

Not really applicable to Elvia, considering their shrine is something similar to Hagia Sophia of Constantinople. Elvia is also a classist piece of shit and they'd be sooooo happy to see something as grand as the Senobium!

Let's get you to bed grandpa

Elvia would trust Iris though, unlike Phlomis. I don't think that she would follow her, but Elvia certainly would. They're a little naive. This is why they are the one meeting Ais in the end.

Ocudeus baby...

I love how Phlomis stays guarding the gates to the wasteland and waiting for Elvia, meanwhile Elvia is out here having an Unnamed-specific acid trip LMAOAO

Elvia often pacifies soulless with their curse as a 'divine feat' to shock people into obeying them lmfao. However, being surrounded by multiple of them with some bastard barking orders at them is bound to be a little unnerving.

ALSO

AGAIN WITH THE HEIGHT

ELVIA IS LITERALLY JUST 5 CMS SHORTER THAN AIS PLEASE I BEG

Now you'd love that, wouldn't you Elvia. I love the ''all lies'' thrown in there. Elvia is rather annoyed that their curse didn't work out this way. This little cult leader is still trying to figure out how to maximize people's usefulness.

Elvia being utterly puzzled by Mhin's nature is fascinating to me. It's such a direct contrast with how quickly them and Phlomis seem to understand one another. For the first time in forever, Elvia cannot understand, and that scares them. The lack of control is terrifying.

I think they don't like Mhin very much.

Leander and Ais feuding over buying Elvia a drink is extremely funny to me now, considering that both of them are their routes lmao

Talking about Elvia's dynamics with these guys, I don't think that Vere likes them too much either. They have no issue with him, but Vere does not trust them whatsoever. I think he can tell this one's a devious, slimey worm.

ROUTE TIME-

Leander's

Alright, this is not Elvia lore but rather ME lore, my father used to own a pub. It opened only at night and served mostly alcohol, and this is the most realistic thing I've seen in the entire demo. The barstools and the counters WERE sticky half the time, no matter how much they cleaned them. The alcohol that falls on these surfaces always turns everything into a nightmare lmao. This was so reminiscent of being in the pub helping my father. EW BROTHER

Oh they certainly do miss it a lot. Their assistants, the luxury, the safety, the holiness of it all. Elvia simply seeks to live a peaceful life, that is their deepest desire. I think that Leander can understand.

Well aren't you lovely and kind, Leander! I think that Elvia wouldn't be that unfamiliar with care, considering they've got Phlomis guarding their back at all times, but they would be pleased by Leander's charitative spirit...

Are you sure about that.

Elvia falls in love fast and hard but their idea of love mayyy just be to manipulate you back until you're fully dependent on them Leander. The clash of manipulators will be legendary.

No cause the way Leander keeps saying negative things about the others as soon as you express that you like them....this man's unsettling...

I'm leaning towards 'good' with Kuras. Elvia knows that he's something other than human, they know that he's suspicious inherently, but I don't think that would affect their opinion of him. They're grateful for having been saved.

Vere, Vere... Elvia woulnd't say that he deserved it. Maybe they would, if they knew more about him and considered him faulty, but they don't know enough to pass such harsh judgement.

Part of me also believes that they want to tell Leander they've liked the others because they've already clocked that he's uncomfortable with it lmao.

I puked hey so that's terrifying

Canon Elvia for sure. They're not helpless. They will manhandle him lmao

Still stands I see

No because the fact that he says he's got some information to get you ALONE WITH HIM in YOUR ROOM and then doesn't even give you the information.

I'm disgusted. Elvia won't let this slide either. They ARE having him do their bidding, whether he likes it or not.

Ais'

I think Elvia's dynamic with Ais is one of curiosity. They don't really start on the best of terms, but Elvia knows that Ais is connected to something ancient, something useful. They feel a sort of... envy, regarding Ais. They want a groupmind of their own. They want to be powerful, terrifying, unashamed. They want to be loved, and loathed, and everything in between. Which, by the way,

That's what's happening here. I seriously doubt that Elvia is talking about Princess.

Love the fact that his knuckles are bruised in the sprite as well.

Makes a great deal of sense that Vere is the only one actively calling out Elvia's bullshit then.

I cannot add more images anyway so I'll just leave the rest of my thoughts here.

Elvia's heart beats faster than ever when Ais brings up Ocudeus. That is precisely what they'd felt before. That is what they want. If only they could have that power for themselves, everything would correct itself. They'd fix the world, everybody's faulty sinning hands, everything.

The fact that they'd bite Ais is interesting, as well. I like that in all of their relationships, Elvia is always performing some gesture to let the other know that they are in control. They call the shots, lest you forget.

And that is all...

[mncxbe]

Every girl gets her wish𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff/ official appreciation post for my fav bsd dilfs/not proofread

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂

The amber bubbles fizzed up as Dazai poured the last drop of champagne in your glass. "Don't drink yet we've still got a few minutes left until midnight" announced the brunette, earning a nod from you.

Holding the stem of the glass between your middle and ring finger, crystal bowl resting in the palm of your hand, you made your way to the back of the terrace leaning against the ivy covered brick wall. It was a pretty location the president rented for the new year's eve party; golden lights, cozy wooden tables and cushy sofas and most importantly unlimited food and drinks.

You've already had your fair share of cocktails and shots and your body felt warm, cheeks lightly flushed, mind hazy. Your gaze instinctively sought the familiar head of silvery hair and found it on the other side of the terrace. Fukuzawa was leaning against the railing talking, as per usual, to Ranpo. The longer strands of his hair fell down the black lapel of his suit, bangs framing the sharp lines of his features. Fuck, he looked so handsome in this light.

As if reading your thoughts Ranpo's head snapped in your direction, giving you a mischevious smile. He knew of your crush on your boss, of course he knew and it didn't help your situation at all. Just then, the older man turned his head to face you and you smiled weakly, waving at them. You were about to die of embarassment when you realised how much you were blushing. Fuck your low alcohol tolerance and the stupid feelings that took over you whenever you saw him.

And then you saw him walk in your direction; clearing your throat, you gave him your sweetest smile.

"Good evening, Y/N. Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked casually, leaning on the wall beside you.

"Yes, boss, very much. I love this place it's... very lovely" you babbled out, hurriendly taking a sip of your drink to drown your rapid heartbeat.

"I'm glad to hear that" he smiled, oh that rare, genuine smile that made you weak in the knees. You didn't know what else to say so you simply nodded, biting down on your glossy lip as you looked at your glass. Waiting for him to leave. But he didn't. Fukuzawa remained by your side, taking occasional sips from his own drink and checking his clock. The silence was starting to feel awkward and you damned yourself for acting so silly. 'Come on, girl, you got this just say something' was the best encouragement you could come up with. Taking in a deep breath you opened your mouth but before you got the chance to speak Fukuzawa leaned closer to you.

"You're a remarkable woman, Y/N. I hope you know that." he said softly. In the background you could already hear the thrilled voices of your colleagues doing the countdown. 10...9...8 "Would you maybe consider allowing me to..." he continued, his voice trailing off as he traced the contour of your cheery-wine coloured lips with his thumb, making your heart skip a beat.

7...6...5. You nodded eagerly, swallowing down every last shred doubt and looked up at him, meeting his warm gaze. 4...3...2. He smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer, his deep, vanilla tinged scent making your knees weak. And then he did it. When the clock struck midnight he kissed you, a soft kiss that seemed almost innocent if it hadn't been for the fierce, posessive grip he had on your hip.

When you eventually pulled away you couldn't help but smile. Leaning against one another, the two of you shared the usual Happy new years right before you gazed over Fukuzawa's shoulder, eyes landing on Ranpo who gave you a thumbs up, grinning. The blush immediately returned to your face and you hid your face in the man's shoulder, praying that no one else saw the kiss you two shared. plot twist later in the evening Ranpo spread the news.

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊

You knew that working for the Hunting Dogs was going to be quite a demanding job but you never expected to be called in for a mission on New Year's Eve. Still, at 9 in the evening the captain sent you a quick text asking to accompany him on a mission. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I can't reach the others. I expect you to be at the warehouses in 30." was all the explanations you were given before you hastly put on your uniform and left your apartment.

It was almost midnight when you were done and due to the late hour no cabs were available, leaving you with no hope of getting back home to your friends.

"What a bummer..." you mumbled under your breath, leaning against the metal railing that lined the frothy shore. The metallic smell of fireworks and cheap firecrackers filled the chilly winter air.

"It can't be helped sometimes, when duty calls we answer" said your superior in his usual condescending tone, standing by your side. He lazily procured a cigarette from a crumpled pack in the pocket of his jacket and lit it before checking the time. "Three more minutes 'till midnight. I guess you're stuck with me tonight"

You simply nodded in response, humming a disinterested mhm. Frankly, you couldn't care less who you spent new year's eve with; it was just another night of the year. But having to sit outside in the crisp December air, watching happy couples cooing at each other and sharing kisses wasn't exactly ideal. You thought of your friends; bundled up on your balcony getting ready to open the bottle of champagne you spent a quarter of your salary on and couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy.

You were too lost in thought to notice when the clock struck midnight. As if on que the sky erupted in bright neon colours; ruby red, champagne gold and shades of blue painting the blackness above. The few couples nearby began kissing, each person giving their partner a lovesick grin that made your stomach churn. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't you have that too?

"What's with that pouty face?" Fukuchi asked casually, his gaze landing on the couple seated on the bench in front of you. "Ah I see how it is. You want your midnight kiss, right?"

Before you could answer he cupped your jaw with a gloved hand making you face him as he leaned in "I believe I can help with that"

Despite how cold you were heat bloomed in your abdomen, a rosy blush tinting your cheeks. "No need sir I'm fine really~" you stammered, trying to look at anything else beside him.

"Nonsense, sweetheart. You're already stuck out here because of me. It's the least I can do." he chuckled, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. You couldn't deny how tempting the offer was. After all, you did develop a little crush on your boss during the few months you worked as a hunting dog. He seemed to be quite fond of you too, always taking you on missions with him, even going so far as to call you sweetheart when it was just the two of you so... maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Before you knew it you leaned in, hesitantly pressing your lips against his. His hand left your face and slid to the nape of your neck fingers entangling in your hair, giving it a gentle tug. Taking the hint you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue in your mouth and deepen the kiss. It was messy, a needy kiss that made your head fuzzy. He tasted just like you imagined: cigarettes and bourbon.

When he eventually pulled away his signature smirk was plastered on his face "How was that for a midnight kiss? Is my favourite girl satisfied?"

You couldn't help but smilen, that damned lovesick grin you so hated to see on other people. "Yea, I'm happy now". Taking a last drag from his cigarette he flicked the bud on the ground and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You instinctively leaned closer to him, your head coming to rest on his chest. Smiling down at you, Fukuchi gave your arm a loving squeeze "Happy new year, Y/N"