#can’t say what this is about because— nope can’t say that either. if I say that it’ll be obvious what it’s about

[lemon-russ]

Not even technically a request I simply want to share brain worms with you. Imagine with me if you will, the inherent romanticism of helping Chairon with his prosthetic arm. He’s probably fully capable of fixing it himself but iirc he IS right-handed so he’d be having to use his off hand for any maintenance tasks. Being either a chapter mechanic or militarum one he’s been around before and seeing him kinda idly flexing his hand and fingers like something doesn’t feel right, and offering to help if he’d be open to it. He probably doesn’t have the tools on him but you do and he’s heard nothing but good things about you from others, and any of the times he’s personally been around you, you seemed very competent and (dare he even say) sweet.

But just having a moment of kinda ease and softness for a bit. You didn’t HAVE to help him but you wanted to, just because it was something kind to do for him. It really hits him just how much more delicate you are and he’s impressed by how nimble and practiced your hands are, even covered in nicks and scratches from your duty. Expertly checking for and fixing small issues he would’ve thought too superficial for mid-mission fixes but you jokingly chide him that you’re putting your pride as a mechanic on the line here and you wouldn’t be caught dead doing a half-assed job for an Ultramarine. It’s honestly quite calming watching you work, feeling the grind and tension in his fingers ease as you get everything working smoothly again.

Something deep inside him wishes you’d touch his other hand so tenderly, so he could actually feel it.

That thought confuses him but it doesn’t seem… bad to think about. It would probably feel quite nice. It’s so rare for marines to experience physical touch that doesn’t involve violence. He wants to know what that would feel like, touch without pain.

You finish your work far too quickly for his liking and it shakes him from his musings. He can’t really stay upset about it seeing how proud you are as he tests his range of motion and everything feels good as new. You’re practically beaming when he thanks you, and instead of some typical awe-filled reply he’d expect, you grin ear to ear and cheerily proclaim. “Feel free to come find me whenever you need, I always make time for my favorite ‘customers’ after all!”

Chairon doesn’t know how to respond to that so he simply nods and tries to ignore how warm he feels seeing the unbridled enthusiasm you have at the prospect of seeing him again. You’re probably just excited about working on Astartes tech again… yeah that’s probably all it is……. Though now that he thinks about it you’ve never called any of his brothers your “favorite customer”….. Suddenly he’s very glad his skin is dark enough it’s near impossible to notice him blushing, Gadriel would never let him hear the end of this XD

Mans gonna be slamming his hand in doors for an excuse to get fixed by the cute mechanic lmfao

But this is such a cute idea, I'm a sucker for like, mechanical care can be intimate in a way (I've seen one scene of scavengers reign and it was that one of what I can only describe as proxy lesbian sex of a woman cleaning the inside of her robot companion, so like, now that's in there and suddenly "repairs is sex" is an association I have lmfao)

You know shes going to be checking in on him too, fine tuning his hand voluntarily, "oh I just happened to notice that gear looks a little stuck..." "oh? It doesnt feel-" "nope its stuck here let me get it for you :)))"

[nellectronic]

never would have predicted the toll this is taking on my mental health

[evera-era]

f**k you.

ellie williams x afab!reader

warnings: hate sex, ellie’s rude as shit in the first half, alcohol use, some name-calling, aggressive kissing, fingering, scissoring, brat taming, spanking, edging/overstim… i think thats it

a/n: kinktober’s here! ik im a few hours late guys im sorry. but hopefully this juicyness makes up for it !! wc 3.4k

Ellie couldn’t stand you.

She found you so incredibly annoying, and yet you shared the same friends. Which was the biggest problem, ever.

She never failed to make sure to let you know what she thought of you.

“Hey, idiot. We’re trying to have a conversation. Shut it for once, yeah?”

And you made sure to let her know that the feeling was mutual.

“Suck my dick, Williams.”

And like clockwork, she’d say something along the lines of “Sorry babe. Not into that.”

Truthfully, the two of you had been doing this for a while. This was nothing new. You’d go at eachother back and forth until one of you gets genuinely pissed off. Rinse. Repeat.

Dina hated it because she loves the two of you; she just can’t handle being in a room with both of you at once. Jesse would find it amusing until you and Ellie wouldn’t shut up during a movie.

It didn’t matter what you said or did. Ellie would either laugh, mock, or straight up disagree with you. Even if you stayed quiet and said nothing at all.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

She’d wait for your response, and when you didn’t have one, she’d keep going.

“No seriously. You look like dogshit.”

“Ellie please shut the fuck up.”

It was like she couldn’t ignore you. As if your presence was so incredibly overwhelming, that she just had to react to everything you did. You didn’t get it.

If you met up with the friend group to eat, Ellie somehow “forgot” to get you something. She’d make plans and purposely exclude you. And if you brought it up, she’d tell you to “chill the fuck out, it’s not that serious.”

You hated Ellie. And yet here you were, six feet across from her, sitting on the rug of her living room floor. Dina had insisted on a friendly get-together at Ellie’s, specifically requesting that “you don’t kill eachother.” You told her you’d try, but made no promises.

“Hey, Jesse.” Ellie said. “Could you grab me and Dina another beer?”

“Ellie,” Dina says. “You didn’t even ask if Y/N wanted one.”

“So?” She replies. “She’s a big girl. If she wants another she can get it herself.”

You rolled your eyes. She always did this — talked about you as if you were the dumbest person to ever exist.

“I’m right here, Ellie.” You snap. “I can hear you.”

“I know.” Ellie says. “That’s why I said it.”

“Guys, please.” Dina groans. “Just one night. One good night is all I ask.”

Jesse brings over more bottles. He cracks one open before handing it to you. Ellie stares at you, waiting for Jesse to hand out the rest before speaking.

“It would be easier if I didn’t have to look at her fuckin’ face all night.”

You scoffed. “You know, you’re really cocky for someone who lives in a fucking garage.”

“You’re lucky I even let your ass in this garage.” Ellie mutters. “Probably tracked in a shitton of dirt.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You ask abruptly.

Dina rubs her temples. “Guys—“

“You that stupid?” She questions. “It means I’m gonna have to sweep once you leave. Don’t want your germs gettin’ on my shit.”

“Fuck this. Nope. Not doing this.” Dina says, getting up from the floor. She whips around to face you and Ellie.

“I have tried to ignore the two of you in hopes of having a good time. I have begged you to get along for once. But clearly, none of it’s fucking working!” She throws her hands up. “I’m done. Seriously — come on, Jesse, we’re leaving.”

Jesse thinks for a moment, then shrugs. He begins walking towards the door with his beer in hand.

“Wait, what?” Ellie asks.

“You guys are gonna sit here and sort this shit out.” She says, throwing on her coat. “Until then, me and Jesse are going somewhere else.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dina—“

“Don’t wanna hear it.” She states as Jesse opens the door for her. “The two of you are smart, figure it out. You can come find us when you’re done.”

“See you,” Is all Jesse says, before pulling the door shut.

You and Ellie look straight ahead.

What the fuck.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You didn’t know what to do. Dina was obviously pissed, but being left alone with Ellie was the last thing you wanted.

It’s as if she could read your mind.

“Get out.”

You raise your brows. “Excuse me?”

“They left because you don’t know when to shut your mouth,” She says. “And I don’t wanna keep hearing it, so get out.”

Your previous desire to get up and walk out of the door suddenly disappears. You set your drink down.

“No.”

“What?”

“You don’t like me? Great.” You say, kicking your feet back. “I don’t like you either. But I’m not gonna do what you say, when you say it, every single fucking time.”

“Wow.” She takes a sip of beer. “You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Your eyes flash over to the brunette in less than a second. But she doesn’t budge. Just leans into the couch, legs spread.

“Ellie—“ You begin. “What the fuck is your problem with me?”

She smirks as if you said something funny.

“I’m serious. What the fuck is it?” You repeat, staring intently.

“Are you that dense?” She meets your gaze. “Your attitude. If you couldn’t tell, you have a serious attitude problem. Should really get it checked out.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Like you don’t have an attitude problem.”

“Yeah, but that’s me.”

“Oh,” You nod sarcastically. “Okay. Sure, yeah. Because that makes sense.”

“See? Again with the attitude.”

Silence fills the room as you bite your tongue. The fact that you felt the impulse to respond immediately kind of proved Ellie’s point.

It pissed you off that she was right. You did have a bit of an attitude problem with her. In your defense, she never leaves you alone. You get along just fine with everyone else.

You had given up. You were ready to just go home and tell Dina the truth later. But as you stand up, out of absolutely nowhere, Ellie says:

“It sucks, ‘cause you’re hot. It’s a shame you’ve gotta act like such a fuckin’ brat.”

Were your ears deceiving you? Did Ellie fucking Williams just say that?

You laugh it off and shake your head. “You are truly something else.”

“I’m being serious.” She replies. “You could just sit there and look pretty. Don’t know why you choose to be so damn annoying instead.”

“It would be so nice if you just learned when to shut up, Ellie.”

“You gonna make me?” She says, watching you. You sigh dramatically.

“Didn’t think so.”

The way she was toying with you made your skin run hot. You weren’t sure if she really meant what she said, or if she was just trying to get a rise out of you. Either way, her sweatpants and sports bra combo wasn’t helping; you could feel yourself getting worked up.

“What are you getting at?” You blurt out. “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” She murmurs, looking down then back up again. “Are you?”

You laugh harshly. “What the hell makes you think that?”

“You’re an attention whore,” She answers. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

The way ‘whore’ rolled off of her tongue was so incredibly casual. And yet, you enjoyed the fact that she was saying it to you. Pigs must be flying. There was no way this was happening.

“I’m not a whore,” You stated.

“Oh?” She says coyly. “I didn’t call you a whore, I called you an attention whore. But you were quick to argue, so now I’m curious.”

You shift your weight to one leg. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Ellie.”

“Yeah? Then why are you still here?”

You felt your neck and ears become incredibly hot. Ellie leans forward, pushing herself up from the couch and faces you.

“I’d be flattered if you said it’s ‘cause you like me as a person, but we both know that’s not true.”

Her eyes were dazed and unwavering. It could’ve been the alcohol, but it also could’ve been the fact that your mini skirt had been riding up your thighs all night.

And as for you, you surprisingly weren’t repulsed. In fact, you liked seeing Ellie like this. If you were sober you might have dipped already, but your legs were heavy and your panties started to feel very constrictive.

“I think…” She begins walking closer. “That you want the exact same thing. You just act like you’re too good for it.”

You could feel your inhibition weakening. You drunkenly stare up at her. “You think I’m not?”

“I know you’re not.” She takes another step. You go to step back, but your heel hits the wall.

“I don’t blame Dina for trying, but we both know we’re not gonna make up.” Another step.

“No?” You whisper.

“Mm-mm.” Her nose was almost brushing up against yours, now.

The eye contact was unmatched. Ellie wasn’t budging, and neither were you.

“I fucking hate what you do to me,” You whispered against her lips.

She smirks. “I fucking love it.”

Immediately, her lips are engulfing yours, with so much damn fervor and need. You curled your fingers in her hair, and tugged down hard. You didn’t care if you hurt her — after all, she deserved it.

Ellie smiles into the kiss, pulling you in closer as a small grunt leaves her lips. Her legs cage you in against the wall as she forces her tongue into your mouth.

You hated her. You hated her. You hated her.

So how was it possible for her to make you feel so goddamn good?

Her hands begin grasping at the hem of your clothes with frustration.

“Fuck, baby.” She moans. “Take this shit off.”

You were compliant at this point; you merely slid your hands under your shirt and did what she said. Ellie presses her head against your chin, whispering a few more curses as she looks at your exposed breasts.

“So fucking hot,” She groans, pressing her lips to your neck. You whined out of pleasure as you pulled her hips closer to you.

“This is so embarrassing.” You mumble, shutting your eyes.

“Mm,” Ellie hums. “Seem to be handling it quite well, though.”

The brunette begins trailing her kisses downwards. You jump at the new sensation.

“Ellie—“

“Shh.” She murmurs, teething dangerously close to your nipple. “Gotta focus.”

When she latches on, your head immediately falls back. You’re practically speechless as she sucks and swirls her tongue around the hardened bud.

You wanted her to keep going, but you were worried. If Dina and Jesse caught you like this…

As for Ellie, she is absolutely shameless in the way she’s going in on your tits. It was clear that she had wanted to do this for a very long time — she was just being a complete ass about it.

She pulls away with a hard ‘pop’ before looking up at you with her green eyes. “Come here,” She says, grabbing your waist and pulling you down with her.

You gasp as the two of you land on the couch. Her hand quickly finds the back of your neck as she kisses you again, bucking gently against you. A soft moan escapes your lips as you pull back.

“What if Dina and Je—“

“Y/N,” She whispers, pulling her shirt over her head. “I’m in front of you, and I wanna fuck you. Please just shut up for once. Alright?”

You blush, looking down at her chest. Her nipples were poking out, hard as rocks. “You’re so fucking mean.”

“You’re fucking mean,” She says, smirking. “Depriving me of this for so damn long.”

“Didn’t think you wanted me,” You slur against her lips.

“Yeah, well… you are pretty fuckin’ annoying.” She huffs, as you lean in to kiss her again. As the minutes pass, you find yourself rolling your hips against hers.

“More,” You say quietly.

“Hm?”

“Want more of you, Ellie.” You sighed, nudging your fingertips under her waistband. “Please.”

She grins before sliding her sweatpants and underwear off. “Only because you said please.”

When your fingers drag down against her clit, she’s wet, and you absentmindedly moan. She sneers, staring up at you.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothing, just… that was the sluttiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You hum against her skin, gently rubbing your thumb against her hood. “I could be sluttier.”

“Oh yeah?” She responds, grazing her teeth against your jaw.

You drag your fingers from her pussy to your lips, gently engulfing them in your mouth. You keep your eyes on her as you suck her juices off, groaning at the sweet taste.

Ellie’s face becomes that of a pornstar. Her eyes are half-lidded, nearly rolling back as she stifles a moan.

“Holy fuck,” She says, biting down on her lip. Her gaze drops to your lower body, and she begins shoving the fabric of your skirt up.

“What are you doing?” You murmur, watching the skirt bunch around your waist.

“Not gonna waste anymore time,” She explains, tugging at your panties. “I fucking need this pussy.”

You help her remove the undergarment, letting it drop onto the floor. Her hands settle on your ass as you gently lift her leg, lining yourself up against her.

“Fuck yes,” She whispers, watching carefully as you gently slot your cunt against hers.

Her cunt was soft, and incredibly slick and sticky. It takes you a moment to get the right angle before you begin to get a rhythm going.

Once you start speeding up, Ellie practically loses it. She’s breathing like she can’t get enough air.

“Fuck yes.” She repeats, bringing her hand down onto your ass with a hard slap. Her eyes are closed as she scrunches her brows in pleasure. “Holy fucking shit.”

“God,” You moan, sloshing your pussy up against hers. “You’re so wet, Ellie.”

The room becomes one filled with wet noises and moaning. Ellie’s hands are grabbing at everything — your ass, your tits, the couch. She’s in euphoria, seeing stars as she tries not to black out.

“Goddamn,” She mutters. “So fucking good, baby. Doing so fucking good.”

You whimper at the praise, still trying to wrap your head around what was happening. Ellie had been your worst enemy for months, and here you were, bumping clits with her like a fucking slut.

“Shit—“ She grunts, pushing her head back. “I‘m close, ‘m gonna cum.”

“Already?” You joke. “That’s quick, don’t you think?”

She quickly opens her eyes and looks at you. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” You say slyly, slowing down ever so slightly.

She smacks your ass, hard. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You slow down even more, grinning proudly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ellie.”

“Y/N, you better fucking finish me off.”

“But… ” You whisper in an innocent tone. “We’re having so much fun, right?”

“I swear to—“ She exhales vexedly before sinking her nails into your hips. “Fuck it.”

She sits up, grabbing you forcefully before pushing you down so you’ve switched places. Ellie props your leg up on her shoulder.

“Wanna be a fucking brat? Hm?” She whispers, bringing herself down on your cunt harshly.

You moan in response, goosebumps beginning to form on your arms. You place your hands on her abs, pushing slightly in an attempt to get her to let up.

“Ellie, ‘s too much.” You mewl, as she ruts her pussy against yours.

“Shut up,” She mumbles. “You can take it.”

She keeps you down as she fucks you, ramming herself against your cunt. The sloshing of your clits sends you into a spiral.

“Oh my god, Ellie,” You murmur. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” She grunts. “You like this?”

You nod, but Ellie places a sharp slap on your boob.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yeah,” You stammer, trying to grasp reality as the only thing going through your mind is how good her pussy feels on yours.

She uses her hand and grabs your chin, tilting your head up. “You better not fucking cum until I do, you hear me?”

You nod again. “Y-Yes, Ellie.”

The way Ellie scissors is ruthless. She’s concentrated, hair sticking to her forehead as she stares down at you. She watches the way your tits bounce as she fucks herself on you, watching as you beg her to slow down.

Her teeth clench as she nears her orgasm. She looks up at the ceiling before dropping her head back down.

“Fuck, I’m, shit— ‘m getting close.”

“Yeah?” You murmur.

“Uh-huh.” You bring your hand up to her cheek as she maintains her rhythm.

“Wanna cum with you, Ellie. Wanna cum all over your fucking pussy.”

“Fuck,” She says through gritted teeth. “Fuck yes. Keep talking, just like that.”

Ellie knew she wasn’t very far off. But she figured she’d make the most of it, in case this was the last time she got to see you like this.

“So good, Ellie,” You say softly. “Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good.”

“Yeah?” She exhales.

“Mhm,” You murmur. “Best I’ve ever had.”

Ellie’s eyes roll into the back of her head, her moans becoming choppy. She gently holds your foot as she grinds her hips down faster.

As Ellie becomes wetter, you stiffen and feel your stomach tightening. You were getting really close, and she could feel it.

“Y/N,” She says. “I’m—“

“Me too—“ Is all you can say, before drawling out into a moan. Ellie rides you deep into your high, breathing sporadically as she cums, herself.

For a second, the two of you barely move, merely catching your breaths. But eventually your leg starts cramping, and you slide it off her shoulder.

“Holy fuck.” You whisper. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

“I can.” Ellie says, slowly hopping off of you.

“You’re a liar.”

“How?” She says, leaning against the opposite end of the couch. “It was only a matter of time ‘til I got into your pants.”

“Oh,” You scoff. “So it was easy?”

“It was so easy.” She says, smiling. You look at the floor.

“Shut up.” You grin, reaching over to grab your clothes. You slowly put them back on as she copies you.

“Wanna go find Dina and Jesse now?” She questions, pulling her shirt over her head.

“I thought you said we couldn’t,” You say. “Since we weren’t gonna make up.”

“Mm, ‘cause we didn’t.” She states, cocking her head. “I need about three more rounds of this before we re-visit that topic.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You giggle, tossing your jacket at her. She laughs, putting her hands up to shield herself as it hits her.

“I’m kinda serious though,” She says. “You wanna give me head next time? Or…”

You smooth your hair down. “In your dreams, Williams.”

She looks around, contemplating for a moment. “Does that mean I give you head instead?”

“Ellie please shut up now.”

[bombsonboard]

metal arm brrr

Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)

A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.

*****

“Can you stop moving, please?” 

Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed. 

When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep. 

You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.

Nope, can’t do it. You shift again. 

“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”

With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.

He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.

“I swear if you say-”

“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation. 

“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”

“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer. 

“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm. 

“...If you could?”

“Seriously, fuck you.” 

Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?

“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.” 

Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away. 

In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad. 

With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist. 

You slept like a lamb after that.

*****

When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other. 

Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.

“The fuck is this?”

You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter. 

“A solution?” You shrug.

“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”

“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.

“You’re a fucking menace.” 

The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.

Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.

Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm. 

“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head. 

You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-

“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.

When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.

“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender. 

“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede

“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”

He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.

It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back. 

“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.

Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:

“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”

[steveseddie]

since day one

@steddiemicrofic prompt: fool, 454 words rated: g | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, steve has a crush, even gareth knows, soft boys

***

“You’re not fooling anyone.”

Gareth’s voice makes Steve look up, finding him leaning against the kitchen doorway.

Then he looks down at the cookies he’s moving from the box they came in to a plate, frowning. “I wasn’t trying to. Just thought it’d be easier to grab the cookies this way.”

Gareth rolls his eyes. “No, about why you’re playing DnD with us.”

“I just wanted to-”

“Spend quality time with the children, uh huh,” Gareth finishes, using Steve’s words. “That’s not it. You wanted to spend time with Eddie.”

Steve flushes but tries to act nonchalant. “Yeah, with all of you-”

“No, specifically with Eddie. You even asked Byers to help you study the handbook to impress him!”

Steve bites his lip, thinking. “Did I?”

“What?”

“Did I impress him?” Steve asks. Gareth clearly saw through his lie and probably knows what Steve is doing. He might as well figure out if it’s working. “Because I’ve been trying to since I realized I have a crush on him-”

Gareth waves his hands in front of him. “Woah, woah, you can’t say that.”

Steve frowns. “Oh, but you know that Eddie likes guys, are you not okay with-”

“Of course I’m cool with that, Harrington, but Eddie is my best friend. I’m like, obligated to tell him now.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “You can’t. You can’t tell Eddie!”

“Can’t tell Eddie what?” Eddie asks, strolling into the kitchen.

Gareth glances between the two before jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go,” he says then hurries out.

Eddie skips over to Steve, grinning at him. “What secrets are you keeping from me, Stevie?”

Steve focuses on rearranging the cookies on the plate. “None, no secrets, nothing, nope.”

“See, I know that’s a lie. You didn’t tell me mini Byers was helping you learn DnD.”

“I was trying to surprise them-”

“I could’ve helped you.”

“I guess-” Steve says quietly, “I was also trying to surprise you.”

“Steve, you haven’t stopped surprising me since the day I met you,” Eddie says with a chuckle. Steve looks up and finds Eddie staring at him with a soft look, eyes sparkling with something.

Something that makes Steve a little bold.

“I was also trying to impress you,” Steve says shyly.

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, pointing at himself. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Steve says, poking Eddie’s chest in the same spot.

Before he can back his hand, Eddie wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrist, keeping his hand against his chest. “Guess what, Stevie?” Eddie gives him a slow grin, his dimple popping. “You haven’t stopped doing that since day one either.”

And oh, Steve thinks, maybe he didn’t need to try so hard to get Eddie’s attention after all.

[charliemwrites]

Mister(s) Steal Your Girl — part 3

(I seriously need to come up with an actual name for this series before it sets in)

Introducing his grand horniness- John “Soap” MacTavish

No Content Warnings

It’s been six, coming up on seven, dates with Kyle. A dwindling part of you feared that after the absolutely mind-blowing night you two shared, he’d ghost you or something.

But nope, the morning after was spent in one of his jumpers, receiving kisses and breakfast and tea. The two of you watched movies all day until he drove you home, kissing you at the door. He let you keep his jumper.

Not three days later, he invited you to a movie you’d both been excited to see, and giggled over the popcorn bowl like teenagers. He didn’t even mind that you leaned over to whisper during certain parts, or the ramble you went on afterwards. (When you apologized for overanalyzing and talking so much, he gave you a bizarre, almost offended look. “Don’t you dare stop,” he huffed, “you’re way better than radio. What did you think about that after credit scene?”)

A few days after that, he called with apologetic news.

“Being shipped out for a couple weeks. Shouldn’t be anything too dangerous, and I’ll call when I can,” he explained.

You told the nervous little twist in your gut that you knew this about him. That this is Kyle’s job, not a convenient excuse to ignore you.

“Stay safe regardless,” you murmured earnestly into the phone. “I‘ll… I’ll miss you, Kyle.”

“You’re getting the biggest hug when I get back, darlin’,” he promised.

He kept to it too. Called at odd hours sometimes - once during dinner with your fiance even. But Brandon is always taking random calls nowadays, so you figured, given the circumstances, it’s not such a big deal to excuse yourself either.

On the other end of the call, Kyle sounded a bit tired, but happy to talk to you. He couldn’t tell you anything about what he was doing, but shared some smaller, safer details. That the tea was shite because Soap kept over-steeping it. That his lieutenant was big enough to body slam him during sparring practice. That Captain Price wishes you well and promises to bring Kyle back in one piece.

You even heard one of his teammates in the background, asking Kyle if he was “chirping at his new bird.” Soap, as you found out. They sound like a good bunch.

When Kyle comes back, you offer to welcome him at his apartment. You bring a little plate of cookies and a pack of his favorite beer, hoping it’s not too much. But when he opens the door, his expression melts before he scoops you up in the big hug he promised.

“You’re a fuckin’ dream, ya know that?” he murmurs, tucking his face against your neck.

You spend the whole weekend with him, kissing at the stitched-up knife wound on his muscled arm. Otherwise, all in one piece.

“Would you… want to meet my mates sometime?” he asks as you’re getting dressed for work Monday morning.

“Of course,” you reply instantly. Realize that might be too eager. “If you want to introduce me, that is.”

“I want to show you off to the bloody Queen, babes.”

You giggle, crossing the room to drop a quick kiss on his lips. He tries to draw you in for something deeper, but you wiggle and swat at him, complaining that he’ll make you late.

It’s good, you think. Blissfully good. Honeymoon phase, maybe, but considering how far off your actual honeymoon is, you feel like you deserve this. Kyle is a wonderful partner - kind, attentive, respectful. He listens, he cares, he’s independent of you and respects your boundaries. Sometimes you can’t believe you were ever nervous about this open relationship thing in the first place.

On Wednesday of that same week, Kyle tells you that Soap is going to visit and is eager to meet you. He was thinking dinner and drinks, come back to Kyle’s apartment afterwards. You readily agree.

The next day, a bouquet comes in. It’s a beautiful, though not extravagant, arrangement. Calla lilies, roses, and hydrangeas. The note that comes with it says, “Wanted to make a good first impression in case Kyle told you lies.” It’s signed “Johnny.”

You send a picture to Kyle, amused and a bit endeared. It brightens the rest of your day so much that you barely notice Lucy’s usual snide comments.

On Friday night, Brandon is unexpectedly home. Usually he doesn’t even come home from work on Fridays anymore - or at least he didn’t before you met Kyle. Lately, you only pop in if you’ve forgotten something for your overnight bag. You had to stay late at the office today, though, and your apartment is closer than Kyle’s.

“Was thinking we could go out tonight,” he tells you.

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. Not just by the invitation, but by the mix of emotion in your gut. Some of it is excitement and relief, but not as much as you’d expect. It’s warring with unease and reluctance, a bit of frustration that now of all times he wants to reconnect.

“Um, raincheck?” you offer, smoothing down your dress. It’s a new one you picked out with Kyle; you’re hoping he (Kyle) will notice. “I have plans.”

Brandon’s brow furrows, smile going tight. “You can’t reschedule?”

God you hate confrontation and he knows that, doesn’t he? Why is he pushing?

“Well I don’t know when I’ll get to see them again,” you explain.

Suddenly the tension in his shoulders eases. “Oh, is it a few people then?”

“Just a couple. I’m meeting one of them for the first time.”

“Have fun then,” he says, fishing his phone from his pocket. Like you’re not even there anymore.

You blink, then your phone buzzes with a message from Kyle and you hurry out the door.

“I knew you’d look terrific in that dress,” he says as soon as he sees you.

Thoughts of Brandon, that strange interaction, and those churning feelings all disappear in an instant. Kyle just has a way of soothing you.

The restaurant is one that has quickly become one of your favorites with Kyle. Good food, good drinks, quiet and relaxed atmosphere. You like the funky artwork and squishy booths.

Soap (Johnny?) has already gotten your party a table, and stands as the two of you approach. You nearly stop right there, and then almost trip a bit as momentum urges you onwards. Manage not to make a fool of yourself, but you still boggle at him.

Because Kyle? You thought he was a fluke. Just too handsome to be real, never mind tall and fit and friendly and— well, anyway.

You thought he was a fluke.

But Soap/Johnny is goddamn handsome too! Trim stubble, pretty eyes behind thick lashes, a soft-looking Mohawk that gives him a boyish charm without seeming immature.

“There you two are, thought ye stood me up!” he greets, drawing Kyle into one of those friendly man-hugs with the shoulder pats that look like they hurt.

“Youre a cheap date anyway, MacTavish,” Kyle replies, gently easing you forward with a hand on the small of your back.

“Och, don’t bad mouth me in front of a lady,” Johnny/Soap complains, then turns his twinkling gaze to you and offers a hand. “John MacTavish, but this bampot calls me Soap.”

“Not Johnny?” you ask curiously.

You take his hand, find callouses similar to Kyle’s. But his palm is a bit broader, a scar along his thumb - from a burn it looks like. Just as warm, just as careful. A firm, but not tight shake.

“You can call me anything you like, lass,” he says. From the corner of your eye, you see Kyle choking back a laugh. Johnny it is, you figure.

“Wait ‘Soap’ is a callsign right?” you ask as Kyle herds you into the booth.

“Right-o,” Johnny replies, smiling.

“Does Kyle have one?”

The grin that he gives you would make the devil sweat. As it is, Kyle groans and shoots you a betrayed look.

“Oh does he, lass.”

You light up, grin right back. “Tell me?”

“As if I could say no to a pretty face like that!”

And so begins a long, warm, perfect night. Johnny is great company. Welcoming and friendly, quick to smile, sharp witted. You could sit all night listening to him and Kyle quip at each other, but they’re so careful to keep you included and engaged.

Johnny even offers you some of his chips when his order comes, and you’re too delighted to say no. Not that Kyle seems to mind, encouraging you to steal a couple for him since Johnny keeps whacking his hand away.

The night ends back at Kyle’s. You whip up another batch of cookies with some suspiciously new-looking baking ingredients. The boys keep you company while you work — Kyle mixes the batter when your arm gets tired and Johnny keeps your wine glass full. In the end, you let them each get a lick of the dough spoon.

Eventually, you move to the couch, climb on together. Kyle, for some reason, scooches you into the middle instead of one of the ends, but you don’t mind and neither does Johnny, it seems. They argue over a movie to put on, but it doesn’t matter because the three of you talk through most of it anyway.

The second movie is your pick, which is your downfall. You barely get halfway through before dozing off. End up stirring to muffled laughter and harsh whispering. You’ve slumped into Johnny, you realize, seeing Kyle’s broad smile.

“Oh,” you hum, trying to sit up. “‘M sorry…”

“You’re alright, lass,” Johnny murmurs, gently nudging you back down.

“Kyle?” you ask, yawning.

“Still watching the movie, sweetheart. You can go back to your nap. Soap’s nice and warm, yeah?”

You hum, snuggle in again. He is comfy. “So are you.”

Another quiet chuckle. “I know, love.”

He rouses you later — the movie must be over, you think blearily. Kyle scoops you up, plants a kiss on your cheek as you tuck in.

“Say good night to your teddy bear, baby.”

“‘Night, Johnny,” you mumble, nuzzling your face into Kyle’s neck.

“‘Night, bonnie.”

You wake first the next morning — rare and precious. Kyle is lying behind you snoring softly, arm around your waist. You wiggle around to watch his sleeping face for a minute, appreciating the peace in his features. Drop a whisper-soft kiss on his cheek and then slip out of bed.

He grumbles a bit, but you coo at him to go back to sleep and he subsides quickly. Once you’ve freshened up in the bathroom, you pad out to the living room. Johnny is up as well, watching tv on low volume with a coffee on his knee.

“Mornin’,” he says.

“Good morning,” you chirp back, continuing for the kitchen.

“You’re up early,” he observes, following.

“Slept well,” you reply, grinning. “Thanks in part to you. I hope that wasn’t uncomfortable.”

He ducks his head a bit, a light flush blooming across his ears and cheeks. “Nah, can’t complain about a pretty girl fallin’ asleep on me. Means I must have made a good impression, eh?”

“Oh! That reminds me - those flowers were gorgeous. Did you know calla lilies are my favorite?”

“Aye, Kyle’s been talkin’ about ya nonstop since ye met.”

It’s your turn to flush, and much brighter. You hurriedly turn to the cabinets.

“Well, thank you. I loved them.”

“Yeah? I’ll send you more then.”

Startled, you whip around on him, mouth stupidly open as you try to find a response. “You really don’t have to do that!”

“But what if I want to?”

And if you were struggling for words before, you’re hopeless now. So you just throw your hands up with a little “gah” sound and turn back to gathering ingredients.

“What are we making?” Johnny asks, taking mercy on you. Not that using that sly “we” isn’t devastating to your composure.

“My super special flapjack recipe,” you answer. “Could you get that big bowl down for me?”

He steps past you to do so while you dig out the measuring spoons from the dishwasher.

“If they’re as good as your cookies, then I’m gonna need extra PT after this weekend.”

“Good,” you reply, smug, “that’s my goal.”

“Dangerous woman.”

You snort, holding up a wooden spoon. “Oh yeah, I’m a real threat brandishing cooking utensils at a special ops guy.”

“Och, don’ sell yourself short - my nan used to be a menace with those things!”

Kyle exits the bedroom fifteen minutes later to the smell of cinnamon and his best friend with a face full of flour.

“…Do I even want to know?”

“Just be glad she’s on our side, Garrick.”

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Masterlist

[watchmegetobsessed]

MAD MAN

A/N: he looked like a snack, his ce vibes were too strong to hold them back

base of the idea was by @harrysblackcoat

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: You came to the game to forget about the massive fight you had with Harry a few days ago, but your alone time is soon interrupted by the man you've been trying to avoid.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You weren’t planning to come today. Well, you were, until about four days ago, but then the whole ordeal happened with Harry and suddenly you didn’t want to do anything else than stay at home, cry or either sleep until you forget about the shit you both said. 

It was nasty. You don’t even remember how it started, maybe it was because he got home too late, or was it because you couldn’t choose a restaurant again and it always drives him crazy.

You have no idea what started it, you only remember how bad it got. Screaming, shouting, saying the worst things you ever did and probably neither of you meant. But you said them and you can’t take them back. 

Maybe packing your stuff and leaving wasn’t your best idea, but you needed time and space. Harry has been blowing your phone up ever since, but you feel like you need just a little bit more time away from him to think about… well, the two of you. 

You’ve had the ticket for months and you didn’t have the heart to miss out on the game just because of what happened. So you pulled yourself out of your depression cave, aka your old apartment you still haven’t sold since moving in with Harry and came to the game. Now you’re sitting in your usual seat, waiting for it to start while trying your best to keep him out of your thoughts at least until the end. 

Looking across the stadium you see the VIP section and immediately, you fail at not thinking about him, because you think of how he is the kind of man that would be standing there, sipping on something fancy and expensive. 

Groaning you turn your attention to your drink, playing with the straw, but then you remember the time you explained to Harry why this is your favorite seat in the stadium.

“Okay, enlighten me, baby,” he smirked at you, pulling you to his lap after pushing himself away from his desk.

“It’s close to the exit, I can leave before the crowd gets moving, the toilet is 20 seconds away and the line is always short, because the one by the F stairs is more popular. And…” You peaked at him, checking if he was still listening and there he was, giving you his undivided attention with a cheesy smirk on his handsome face. “And the drinks are better in the buffet that’s behind.”

“Better?” he chuckled. “Baby, they are the same.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “It’s less… watery.”

“Mm, if you say so,” he smirked and then kissed you, making you forget about what you were talking about just a moment ago.

You need to blink your tears away. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be crying during this game, that you wouldn’t think about how much you miss him and how even despite the fight you love him more than anyone. 

You dig into your bag for a tissue, right when someone tries to squeeze past you to their seat. The tall man inches into the row, his long coat brushing your knees while you’re still elbow deep in your bag and you faintly register that he sits beside you. 

“Here,” he deep voice speaks up beside you and you know who it is even before his hand moves into your view, holding out a tissue. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, taking the tissue without looking at him. 

“Why do people come to football matches?” he asks back and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I’m here because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

“That might mean that I don’t want to talk to you,” you casually reply, staring ahead of you.

Harry exhales sharply beside you and his knee presses against yours, making you gasp.

“Y/N, I hope you didn’t think I would just let you slip out of my hands like that, right? We need to talk.”

“And you thought a football game would be the best place for that?” 

“This seems to be the only way to get you to talk to me, so yeah.”

“How did you even know I would be sitting here?”

“Because you told me this is your favorite seat.”

“I did not. I just told you I have one, I never told you it’s this one.”

You sit in silence for a bit, trying to figure out if maybe you did tell him the exact seat, but you get to the same point: you didn’t.

“I never told you, so how did you know?” you ask and finally look at him. His beauty strikes you, as always, the chiseled jawline, the slope of his nose, the curly lashes, he still takes your breath away. 

He runs his tongue across his lips and then looks at you.

“The drink,” he then finally says.

“What?”

“The drink. It really is better here.” You watch him and he continues. “I tried… I tried them all in the stadium and it really is less watery.”

He tried them all. He went around the stadium and tried them all to figure out where you’re sitting. 

“Now that you’re listening to me, can we talk?” he then asks with a soft smile. “Or it could be just me speaking, but I really want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about the past few days.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Talk then.”

His gaze lingers on your face, as if he is taking in every tiny detail before speaking up again.

“I fucked up, Y/N. I said all those terrible things in the heat of the moment and I regretted them right away. I didn’t mean any of them.”

“Not even when you said that all I do is get on your nerves?” you find yourself asking.

“You do get on my nerves, Y/N,” he says and you’re just about to open your mouth, but he is quick to continue. “You make me go crazy in the best way possible. With your silly dancing in the kitchen, the way you sing every song with the wrong lyrics and swear your version is the right. When you get mad at me for using words you don’t know the meaning of, or when you put me in my place when I’m being a total ass… you make me go crazy… for you.”

Your eyes are tearing up again and when his hand moves to your knee you lean closer to him, wanting more of his touch instantly. 

“I love you, Y/N. I never thought I could love someone this much, but you just always prove me wrong,” he chuckles softly and your hand finds his on your leg, your fingers locking together. “Please come back. I’m nothing without you. Come back and get on my nerves every day because I want to be a mad man, but only if it’s you who makes me crazy.”

Now you’re fighting the urge to cry like a baby. You love this man and you can’t imagine a day when you won’t. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks. He reaches up and wipes them with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it when I said you must be fucking all your assistants at work.”

“That hurt,” he smiles bitterly.

“I just… I still wonder why you chose me,” you admit with a shrug. 

“Because you’re the one for me,” he simply answers, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. You take a deep breath and exhale it shakily before leaning in and kissing him. The game starts right when your lips meet, but all the screaming and clapping tunes out as you’re back in the arms of the man you love. 

“Do you want to move to the VIP section?” you ask. 

“Nope,” he smirks down at you. “This really is the best seat.”

“See? I told you!” chuckling, you just pull him in for another kiss before making yourself comfortable with his arm around your shoulders.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[komoboko]

𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

genya shinazugawa x gn!reader

this is sooo bad but i needed to ramble something at least so i can actually write something good soon

Genya does not have a crush on you.

No matter what anybody says he does not have a crush on you. Nope, not possible, never happened. He just appreciates your skill set as a slayer that’s all. He’s just admiring one of his comrades in the line of duty. When you catch his eyes drifting towards you, a longing look in his eyes that scream anything but platonic just ignore it. You’re just getting no signals because Genya doesn’t have a crush on you.

When you ask to train with Genya he accepts with little hesitation. Not because he wants to spend more time with you. Or because he’s missed your presence and doesn’t have it in him to ask himself. It couldn’t be that. Genya accepted because he needed some more help training himself. You’re a tough slayer and you can help him improve his skills. Nothing more than that obviously because he’s almost positive he doesn’t like you.

When Gyomei consults him about his change in behavior, Genya immediately doubts the accusations. Even with his disagreement Gyomei still suggests ways Genya could court and approach you. He was hesitant but still pursed and ended up using all of Gyomei’s recommendations to get closer to you. It’s not because he likes you, he’s just doing it because Gyomei told him to, duh. No, his face doesn’t turn red when he’s nearby you, nor does he lower his tone and his general attitude so you can see him in a better light. What are you talking about?

Genya who spends long nights staring up at the ceiling or the sky and his mind wanders off to you. Either to things you’ve done today if you saw him, or maybe something your planning on doing with him. Maybe he’s thinking about the last time you two hung out that wasn’t related to training. Maybe he’s thinking about something more, and just maybe it’s because he likes you. Just a little bit.

Poor boy who ends up apologizing to you after he ignored you or became to brash when you were around. He wasn’t trying to push you away he was just trying to process what he was feeling in the first place. Poor Genya who’s guilty and tries to improve on handling his little “problem” and not taking it out on you. It’s nearly given people whiplash by how much Genya changes when he is around you. Maybe it’s because people are noticing that Genya does like you, at least a little bit.

Genya who confronts you during a random nights and goes on a ramble expressing what he’s been feeling. All his emotions and his thoughts that were pent flying being able to spill out, thanks to Gyomei’s encouragement. Once he finally manages to get to the point he can’t seem to maintain eye contact until he hears you response of approval. His once embarrassed expression changes to one that looks dumbfounded but you can see the happiness crack through quickly.

Even when somebody ask again Genya answers the same, but everybody can tell it’s a bit different. Genya does not like you. In truth Genya adores you. He loves you with his heart and in his mind that goes beyond the boundaries of just liking you. As you deserved much more than that in his mind.

[synthetickitsune]

Bunny Troubles ✧ h.js

Pairing: Joshua Hong x reader (gn) Genre: fluff Summary: Who’d have thought a man like Joshua could turn into a puddle of misery on the whim of a little bunny? Word count: 1.9k Warnings: i never owned a bunny in my life so excuse any innacuracies for the sake of the plot A/N: this is once again @hanniedream's fault because ofc it is, because it always is

“Uhm, love?” you say shyly, quietly, trying hard to conceal your nervousness.

“Love? Is something wrong?” Joshua catches on immediately regardless of your efforts or the fact that he can’t even see you through the phone. You can only sigh.

You look at your friend for support from where she’s sitting with a bunny in her arms and she gives you a thumbs up before you step out into the hall and close the door behind you.

“What do you think about a week of bunny sitting? My friend is going on a vacation and her parents canceled on her last minute.”

“Say that again,” you can hear your boyfriend pause whatever he was doing.

“Shua, you heard me,” you groan, “She will give us everything we’ll need and she’ll bring the stuff over and help me bunny proof the place. It’s just the living room, so it doesn’t wake us up if it’s noisy in the night. She even made a little pamphlet with instructions and important information and the vet’s contact if anything happened.”

You can practically hear the way he holds back a sigh. Waiting for his answer, though, you already start to imagine the little fluffy creature hopping around your living room.

“What if it doesn’t like me?” he asks. That wasn’t really the concern you were expecting if you’re honest.

“Come again?” you deadpan.

“The meerkat on set didn’t like me either, what if I’m just cursed to be disliked by tiny animals,” there’s a pout in his voice, which is pretty much a sign of your victory.

“No no, my friend said it’s the cuddliest bunny she ever had and that it likes being handled,” you coo excitedly, “And the few times I came over it was really sweet and friendly. It cuddles with me today too.”

“But I’m meant to be your cuddly bunny,” Joshua grumbles very quietly on the other side of the phone.

“Baby I think I’ll need to start recording these calls,” you tease and chuckle when you hear your boyfriend whine some more. “Anyway, it’s just a week. Please? She really needs the help and nobody else is available.”

“You know I can never say no to you,” he sighs, “But I don’t want to hear a word of getting one for ourselves, yeah?”

“I promise,” you try to hide your excitement, “I love you. We’ll be waiting for you to come home.”

“I’m kicking it out if it doesn’t like me,” he warns you playfully before saying his goodbyes and hanging up.

“I’m home,” Joshua calls upon closing the front door behind him carefully, mindful of the creature whose presence is already noticeable by the little fence standing in the doorway of the living room.

“Welcome home,” you call back, your voice soft and clearly strained with emotions. He chuckles to himself, first making his way to the bedroom to change into something comfortable before joining you.

He secures the temporary precaution once he steps into the room and smiles again seeing you sitting by the cage with your hand at the door and the bunny sniffing your palm curiously.

“Getting friendly?” he teases, sitting down a good distance from you to avoid scaring the animal who’s already eyeing him with what he thinks is caution.

“I just fed her some snacks, so I think she hopes for more,” you coo without really looking at him, “Her name is Lola by the way.”

He scoffs, making you groan too. “I know, okay? I wasn’t the one naming her.”

“I can see the resemblance though,” Joshua shakes his head with a smile. The bunny’s colors do kind of resemble those of the character. “Do you think she’ll hate it if I come closer?”

“Nope, just take one of those and you’ll be fine,” you nod towards a little packet lying on the floor next to the cage, “I promise I’ll clean up tomorrow, I just didn’t feel like it this late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, quickly stealing a kiss while you move to make room for him at the cage’s open door. The bunny stays surprisingly calm, only putting his paws down on the ground instead of looking out of the cage.

“Hey little one,” Joshua coos at the fluffy ball, and you can already see the enamored sparkle in his eyes, “Let’s get along, hm?”

The bunny’s nose twitches before it returns to its original position and after sniffing Joshua’s fingers for a bit, it discovers the treat and eagerly takes it from him. 

“I think she likes you,” you chuckle. Your boyfriend then moves back to give the bunny space and lets you pull him in for a proper kiss this time. 

“How was your day?” you ask, resting your head on his shoulder as you watch the bunny bobbing its head and hesitating by the open door, unsure if it wants to explore the unfamiliar territory.

“Good, nothing too exciting. She’s cuter than I expected though,” he leans his head against yours.

“Not one word of wanting to get one for ourselves,” you tease, earning yourself a gentle nudge. “Let’s watch something on tv? Maybe she’ll feel more comfortable if we’re not this close. Oh, and I could show you the guide we got.”

The rest of the evening is spent on the couch, Shua resting in your embrace as you go through the brochure together - and him googling tips on how to befriend a bunny faster. Although the animal in your care seems tame enough that his research might prove to be completely useless. 

The bunny doesn’t venture too far away from its cage, but simply the fact that it left its safe sanctuary is a win in your books. The television is just a nice background noise while you both focus on the curious creature hopping around. 

Over the next couple days the bunny gets quite comfortable. Soon enough it’s exploring the entire expanse of the living room, trying to escape further and you let it - with your strict supervision. The animal is an angel, cuddly and sweet - both to you and Joshua. You were a little skeptical when your friend told you her bunny is the friendliest she’s ever seen and wouldn’t last a second in the wild but turns out she was right. And it also turns out that she’ll be her own bunny’s second favorite human when she gets back.

You can’t say you’re surprised exactly when the bunny starts to clearly prefer Joshua’s attention, but it’s very entertaining that your boyfriend keeps trying to persuade the animal to like you more. It’s not that it doesn’t like you, it does, and it’s very affectionate with you. It’s just that wherever Shua appears, you’re immediately just a back up human. 

The bunny lets itself be handled and carried by him, and it’s impossible for you both not to swoon when you see how tiny the animal looks sitting in Joshua’s hands or held in his arms. Treats work well to lure it away from your boyfriend, but it quickly returns once it finishes eating it. At least it’s not jealous and is willing to share him with you, and your boyfriend glows like the sun with you cuddled into his side and the bunny sleeping on his chest.

Anyway - Joshua is the bunny’s favorite human. Even your friend confirmed that much when you facetimed her one night and showed her how her pet behaves.

That’s why it is so confusing when your boyfriend calls you in distress.

“Baby? Baby I did something and now she hates me!”

It takes you a second and another whiny babyyy to process what’s going on and drop the dinner preparations for the sake of your boyfriend and his side chick’s drama.

Joshua sits with his back against the couch, already looking at you with a pout and eyes pleading. You try not to laugh seeing him and look for the bunny instead - not too far away and… stomping her little feet? Thumping. 

“What did you do?” you accuse, pretending to scold him as you sit down next to him. 

“Nothing! I don’t know,” he whines, turning his head left and right, throwing pleading looks yours and the bunny’s way. “Why does she hate me?”

“I don’t know, but according to the guide this means she’s annoyed, so what did you do to her?” you try really hard not to chuckle at his distress. Who’d have thought a man like him could turn into a puddle of misery on the whim of a little bunny.

“Nothing,” he mumbles with a sigh, extending a hand towards the animal. It pushes it away with its paws with another thump and you do fail and laugh at that. You’re quick to coo over your boyfriend when he turns to you with disbelief written all over his face though, his pout deepening. 

“We’ll figure this out, Shua,” you chuckle, kissing his cheek, “You’re her favorite, remember?”

He nods, sighing as the bunny thumps again. It’s cute as ever, maybe more so throwing a tantrum like this.

“So what did you do - what were you doing before she got like this?” you ask, rubbing his arm soothingly. He leans into your touch and he looks so miserable that you almost feel bad for laughing.

“Nothing, I told you,” he -thump- sulks, “I was just petting her.”

Thump thump.

“And then?” you prod.

“Nothing.” Thump thump. “I was petting her and then I stretched, so I- oh.”

Oh indeed.

“Why would you stop petting her and then be all surprised that she’s annoyed with you? Do you have any idea how upsetting it is?” you frown at him.

“Why am I being targeted?” he grumbles before smirking a little, “But thank you for your insight.”

You push his shoulder. “Don’t give in,” you tell the bunny.

“No no no, I learned from my mistakes,” Joshua turns towards the bunny and slowly extends his hand to its little head, “I’m so sorry, little one. Forgive me please.”

He pets it slowly, his fingers stroking the soft fur with patience and dedication that really makes it seem like he’s begging for forgiveness. You regret not having your phone on you to take a video. 

And then suddenly the bunny starts moving, no longer thumping its legs but instead slowly walking towards your boyfriend before climbing onto his legs and settling on his lap. Joshua beams at you and resumes petting the bunny, overjoyed at being forgiven.

“Am I the bunny whisperer?” he whispers, cooing at the fluffball in his lap. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, and a drama queen,” you tease, but he ignores you in favor of making up with the bunny. It’s a cute look though, so you don’t mind not bickering with him.

“I know I said I don’t want to hear a word about-”

“No.”

He pouts at you when you shut him down immediately.

“Let’s just offer a free bunny sitting whenever, hm?” you suggest.

“Let’s steal her,” Joshua wiggles his brows at you mischievously. You breathe a long sigh.

Then again maybe looking at Joshua with a cute fluffy bunny cuddled up to him every day wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if all it takes for him to get all pouty is a few annoyed thumps.

Now you can only hope your bunny of a boyfriend won’t take on any of her habits.

[ghost-proofbaby]

the tik tok trend of flashing your boyfriend unexpectedly would have both eddie and steve like 😵‍💫🤤😵‍💫

oh my god.

but hear me out. yes, both boys would absolutely drool, but they’d also react just a little bit differently.

(i got carried away beneath the cut my fucking bad minors dni)

with steve, i can see you doing it during a fight. he’s saying something like “it was your turn to do the dishes, baby-“ and then you’re suddenly yanking up your t-shirt that had once been his and he’s just blanking. rapidly blinking, mouth agape and brows slack before furrowing them up. “what’s the matter?” you’d tease him.

and he just starts huffing in frustration because “no. no way. nope. not fair. you still have to do the dishes.”

and so you’d jump a little, smirking at the way his eyes are widening before he just starts pacing and you’re being even more of a fucking tease.

“are we sure about that? can’t we renegotiate terms, baby?”

“renegotiate? reneg- fuck off. fuck right off. i-“ and he’s tugging at his hair, torn between continuing the small argument that he can hardly recall the premise for now as you continue to grip on the hem of your shirt and smirk so proudly at him. “fine. you wanna renegotiate, honey? let’s renegotiate.”

you think you’ve won until he’s suddenly grabbing you up and taking you to the bedroom, treating you like the brat that you are. and by the end of the night, he’s just smirking at you and your chest littered in flowering bruises as he says, “guess you’ll have to clean the sheets instead now, baby.”

but then…. but then with eddie. oh dear god.

it’s not over a fight. no. it’s not a distraction — it’s your attempt to gain his attention. he’s been paying attention to planning a campaign or his guitar or just anything but you the entire day. and by the end of it you’re just so damn needy. it was either this or full on climbing into his lap, and flashing him was just the easier of the two options.

“hey, eds?” would be your innocent start to it, but honestly? he’s not even listening. he doesn’t even hear you as he’s focusing on his damn notebook.

he doesn’t even notice when you raise your shirt, or when you huff with annoyance as he continues to be so fucking oblivious.

“eddie.”

no response.

“edward.”

still no response.

“edward munson-“

when he finally hears his full government name you have half his attention, but not enough of it. he wouldn’t even glance up from his notebook as he says, “just a minute, sweetheart. i just figured out this new NPC and really need to-“

“how the hell do i have my tits out and you’re still talking about that fucking game?”

that would get his attention for a few reasons — the promise of tits and your tone of voice for starters — but even more so, the fact that you rarely lose patience or understanding when it comes to his hobbies. he’d be looking up in an instant, you could probably have heard a crack from across the room at how intensely he’s suddenly snapping that damn head up just to catch you dropping the shirt back down.

“wait, no, wait- what? where’d the boobs go?”

“sorry, only boyfriends who pay attention to their lovers get boobs.”

he’s never tossed that fucking notebook to the side so quickly as he spins around his chair, full focus on you entirely now, “who said i wasn’t paying attention? i’m paying attention, sweetheart. i’m paying so much attention.”

he’d prove just how much attention he’s paying to you when his head is buried between your thighs, only pausing on rare occasions to breathe and sometimes spout out new ideas for that stupid campaign, which only makes you tug harder on his damn curls and cut him off with his own moans before he returns to giving you his full attention.

[reidsdimples]

When Everything Changed | Part 1

Enemies to lovers | Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Angst 🖤

Spencer isn't a fan of the BAU's new genius (you).

You didn’t have a particular like or dislike for Dr. Spencer Reid. For the most part you felt fairly neutral. He was a colleague, one of the team. The two of you weren’t super close but Garcia says that’s because there’s not enough space in the BAU for two genius’s.

He didn’t seem to care for it when you blurted out facts that Hotch asked for or knew a statistic down to a closer decimal than he did.

“If you would do your reading on rapidly updated internet databases instead of printed out media, your statistics wouldn’t be a month behind,” you sniped at him after he sassed you.

Hotch gave you a pointed look.

“He said 13.6% and you said 13.2%- that discrepancy is not one I’m concerned with. 13% would have been fine,” Hotch said and looked back down at the case file before him.

The jet hummed softly, Rossi raising his eyebrow at Reid who seemed to have something to say.

“Reid what do you know about sharp force injuries to the ears?”

“The ear canal is a sensitive and vulnerable part of the body, often associated with communication and hearing. The criminal may have chosen this specific method as a way to assert control or power over their victims by targeting a vital sensory organ. Depending on if he wound it into the brain slowly, it may have been a sadistic killing,” he answers rapidly.

“You think this was torture? It looks more like an instant death,” you answer.

“Ancient torture methods focus on the ears as a way to deal pain by shattering the ear drums and rendering the victim deaf. Given the amount of blood in the right ear I’d say it was done antimortem as a form of torture while the pick through the left ear was the killing blow. He even angled this ice pick upward and into the brain,” he runs his long fingers over the crime scene photos to show you.

You’re almost in awe that he was able to deduce that before seeing the bodies but you say nothing.

"The first two only had an ice pick to the ear which killed them," Hotch said.

"Maybe he hadn't learned yet that he enjoys the torture," Rossi adds.

“Either way this unsub has a fascination with ears,” JJ says.

“Maybe he’s deaf himself?” Morgan chimes in.

You accidentally kick Reid’s ankle while adjusting in your seat across from him, he snaps his head up and narrows his eyes on you.

The conversation spurs on all the way to Portland, Maine where the smell of saltwater invades your nostrils as you step off of the plane.

-

The following day you’re partnered up with Reid to sort through a series of clues left by the unsub. Two more bodies dropped in twenty-four hours, leaving 8 riddles on 8 bodies that needed to be decoded.

“I can take care of this myself,” Reid argues with Hotch.

“I know you can but an extra set of eyes can’t hurt, we’re on a time crunch. Monica Dentz went missing four hours ago. If he sticks to his MO, she only has ten hours left,” with that Hotch exited the room.

Reid rather aggressively tossed his should bag on the table before snatching up copies of the riddles from the table and pinning them to the board.

“I’m not trying to get in your way,” you sigh. You watch him organize the riddles on the board.

“Try harder,” he snaps.

You scoff but your eyes scan over his tall frame as he puts the board together. Nope.

“I think the first one is talking about a ship, same with the third and fifth,” Reid says as he flips a pen in his fingers.

“If you’re taking it literally. ‘Alone in the tide’ could just be a metaphor for loneliness,” you point out.

“And what do you make of ‘the bow takes charge, towards the arctic waters where she sleeps’?” He asks. He’s less condescending this time, more curious but still annoyed.

“That.. that’s probably about a boat,” you accept.

“If you look at these as a story, where you read them from the first lines strung together and then the second lines… it reads like a book. I think someone he loved died at sea,” it seems to click for Reid and he starts scribbling on the board. “And here… I think this means there was an explosion. A boiler room maybe?” He’s moving around the two boards quickly, talking fast, pushing his hair back from his eyes. For a moment you almost find it adorable.

“Maybe he went deaf in a boating accident that killed someone he loves…” you add, standing to look at the board.

He calls Garcia and then Hotch.

“He’s killing them on a boat, it’s symbolic for him. We think he was a victim of a boating accident and lost his hearing…” he continues to speak but you become distracted.

Why were you becoming attracted to him? He was never ugly but you had never noticed him this way before. He was too busy infuriating you with his attitude. Yet he was growing on you in the last few months. Weird.

“Now what?” You ask him.

“We wait for them to get names. Hotch will tell us where he needs us next, we’ll continue to work the profile from here,” he places the pen in his mouth and flips through the victim profiles again.

“Don’t you have an eidetic memory? Why do you keep going through those…”

“Helps me deduce the information,” he shrugs dismissively.

You frown.

“Ya’know,” you sigh and pull up a chair across from him. “I have no intention of overshadowing you.” He glances up from the file.

“So why do you go out of your way to correct or narrow down my answers?”

It’s a perfectly reasonable question. You didn’t know why you did it.

“Habit? I’m used to being the smartest person in the room,” you admit.

“Right,” is his only response as he opens another file.

You don’t know what else to say so you take a look at the profile the team has built.

2 hours pass in awkward silence before Hotch calls the two of you to meet them at the east harbor for a raid of the now named suspects boat.

Once you arrive, Morgan and Prentiss greet you while you’re fumbling with your vest. After a moment and a frustrated sigh, Reid steps behind you.

“Here the strap is twisted up,” he says.

His fingertips graze your hip where your shirt is riding up. Your breathing hitches but you try not to appear affected.

“Thanks,” you tell him.

“Sounds like a plan,” you answer Prentiss who had been explaining the entry points.

“The two of you friends now?” Morgan asks Reid.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Reid answers stoically with his hand propped on his gun. You scoff and shake your head.

“What?” Reid turns his head to you.

“Nothing, let’s just do this,” you snipe. Morgan and JJ exchange an concerned glance.

The man was impossible. You understood if he had walls up, if he didn’t like new people or the competition. But he’s not even trying to welcome you in the slightest.

The scent of ocean air and dead fish fills your nostrils as you follow behind Morgan down the dock. Reid and JJ creep onto the stern of the considerable sized old yacht while Hotch, Rossi, and Prentiss took the bow. You and Morgan are entering through the main entrance of the cabin with deadly stealth.

You hear varying 'clears' come from your coworkers before you point Morgan to a hatch leading below deck. You think you can hear shuffling of some kind happening but it's hard to tell with the sway of the ship.

The rest of the team enter behind you but its Morgan who insists on jumping down first, forgoing the small ladder.

"Randy Lional, put your hands up," he's shouting as you drop down behind him.

You raise your gun as you take in the scene, someone else drops down behind you, it's Reid based on the silver revolver in your line of sight.

The man is crouched over an unconscious Monica Dentz, one of her ears bleeding and her wrists bound. You think she's still breathing.

"Put the gun and the ice pick down man," Morgan yells and then Hotch is next to him.

"He can't hear you," you tell Morgan when Randy drags the barrel of the gun over the girl's half naked body as though he's lost in a trance. His burly back is turned to the team and the situation is so unique that none of you know how to intercept him.

You push between Morgan and Hotch to slowly approach him. It's Reid who grabs your arm and shakes his head, something like concern playing in his hazel eyes. You take your arm from him and turn to the unsub.

An idea strikes you so you pull off your earring and toss it in his direction, it slides across the floor into his line of sight, causing him to jump up and turn around.

The man's eyes are wide, dark bags below them. He's frantic as he shakily points the gun at you. His stringy strands of hair are oiled to his chubby aged face and he appears to be shocked by the FBI's presence. He's aiming the gun at Monica's head.

"Put the gun down," Morgan yells again, gesturing at the weapon.

You begin to use sign language, after putting your own gun back in its holster. Reid steps closer to you, his revolver still raised.

"I know that you're hurting. I know what happened that night. I'm so sorry about your parents," you begin to sign. "But torturing others this way is not going to change what happened to you."

Reid glances at you, seemingly impressed by your use of ASL.

"She's trying to talk him down," Reid informs the rest of the team.

"Please, drop the weapons," you sign to him again. He looks more sad, defeated than before and you're hopeful.

"Does he profile as suicidal?" You ask the team.

"Yes," Hotch answers. You swallow hard.

Just then Monica stirs awake and begins screaming against the cloth gag in her mouth.

What happens next feels like slow motion, you don't even know how to process it.

Randy raises the gun and fires at you, three shots in rapid succession before you can blink. And then Reid has stepped nearly completely in front of you, firing two shots along with a barrage of shots from the team.

You hit the floor in a daze and chaos ensues.

"We need medics!" Prentiss is screaming into her ear piece.

"Two agents hit, one victim, subject deceased," Hotch is speaking into his mic as he rushes over to you.

The blinding pain is in your shoulder, the blood hot as it oozes out of you.

"Reid," you search for him.

"Ah, I'm okay. I'm okay," he doesn't sound okay.

And then you see it, the wound in his neck, the blood pouring from his mouth. Reid is grabbing at his throat for the wound, blood coating his hand. Crimsons running down his slender wrist and long fingers. Then Morgan is applying pressure to the wound while JJ is tending to you.

You wince in pain as she is pressing down on your shoulder. You can physically feel the metal bullet sitting inside of your body, sending pain radiating in all directions. People are talking all around you, JJ's eyes are full of tears as she tries to get you to stay conscious.

"Come on kid, look at me," Morgan is pleading with Reid. no no no.

"Why did you..." you try to ask why he stepped in front of you but the room begins to spin. You start to see double and you don't know if its you or Reid groaning in pain. Reid's eyes are rolling back in his head and he's starting to go limp in Morgans lap.

Reid took a bullet for you, and it may kill him. What if he dies thinking you hate him?

A blur of paramedics enter the space before you lose consciousness murmuring Reid's name.

A/N- Hope you guys love this. I'm already working on the 'lovers' part.

[meowsforyujin]

Obsessed- Hyunjin x fem reader

roommates/friends to lovers

Warnings!!( fingering, drinking, riding, unprotected sex(don’t do it), pet names, hyunjins cocky and obsessive )

To say that Hyunjin was obsessed with you was an understatement.

He knew everything about you, even things you didn’t know about yourself. You two had been roommates for two years now, easily hitting it off when Hyunjin moved in. Hyunjin was nothing but a stranger at first, only moving into your small apartment from a craigslist ad. But it really didn’t take long for you two to become best friends. You literally did everything together.

But this was never enough for Hyunjin, he knew from the beginning living with you would be difficult. The moment he saw you he’d been more intrigued then he’d ever been by a woman in his life. Hyunjin wasn’t described as a gentleman, to say the least. He wasn’t a bad person, just a bit of an immature pervert. So he could never for the life of him figure out why he was so suddenly drawn to you in a way he’d never experienced the first day he saw you.

It’s not that you aren’t attractive, you definitely are. It’s that the first day he saw you, you were in the most seemingly “unattractive” outfit ever. Obviously he thought it was attractive, and that's what he found weird. The first day he saw you, you looked like you had just rolled out of bed after a 3 month hibernation. You were walking like a literal zombie, slumping around barely giving him a tour. You were wearing a big t-shirt that did your figure no justice, with the word “nope.” printed in the middle, which might have been the most stupid T-shirt he’d ever seen. When he asked you what your shirt meant you only shrugged, saying it was a dollar at the thrift store. Your Pj pants had been way too long, he’d almost missed your mis-matched spongebob socks. Your hair in the messiest bun he’d ever seen, baby hairs framing your face so well. You were wearing clear framed glasses that were way too big, you had to keep pushing them up on your nose. You wore one single ring on your thumb, in the shape of a skull. It was an odd choice, but he was so heavily intrigued by it.

Hyunjin had never met anyone as unbothered as you either. He always tried to make you jealous, but you never seemed to care. He’d talk about bringing girls home and warn that she would probably be super loud, and you’d simply shrug, “Okay have fun, just don't give her my food.” you’d say.

He’s also never seen you with a guy over, ever. You did have your cousin Changbin over quite often, but that's your cousin. Hyunjin always wondered if you’d ever even touched a man. Surely you had, but he never asked because he really, really didn’t like to think about it. He would always struggle to hide his jealousy when any guy showed you any interest. You’d always reject them though, much to Hyunjin’s relief. Anytime a girl came up to him, he’d search you for any sort of jealous reaction, and never succeeded. In fact, you’d tease him about it later without any problem.

But Hyunjin was cocky. He was sure you liked him. Did he have any proof or reason to think so? Technically no, but he was Hwang Hyunjin and that was reason enough for him.

-present-

“Hey Y/nnnnn” Hyunjin pokes at your sides, trying to get your attention.

“Whaaaat.” You sigh, rolling your eyes, turning from your computer to face him.

“Guess what”

“Chicken Butt.”

“No, seriously guess.”

“I’m busy hwang, cut to the chase.”

“Luna and I are going out again tonight, I think things are gonna get serious soon.”

“That’s great Hyunjin, can’t wait to meet her.” He searches your face for any sign of discomfort or annoyance, and only finds sincerity.

“You want to meet her?” He blinks, expecting you to get mad or something. (cocky right?)

“Why wouldn't I? Since when has the great ‘Hwang Hyunjin’ been serious about anyone?”

Since you.

“I don’t know, I’ll ask her if we can make plans for you guys to meet soon.” He hopes you don’t hear the disappointment in his voice.

“Great, well I’m gonna invite some of the guys over tonight for a horror movie and beer pong, you and Luna are welcome to join after your date, unless you guys go back to her house instead.” You wink at him and it causes a red hue to tint his face. You figure it’s caused by the comment about fucking his ‘girlfriend’, but it’s of course it isn’t.

-time skip, three hours later.-

You had seriously been having one of the best times of your life tonight, but you couldn’t help but be disappointed that Hyunjin wasn’t there.

“What’s up? Why so glum?” Jisung asks, nudging your arm with his elbow.

“Nothing.” you flash him a weak smile.

“Lemme guess, you miss Hyunjin? Where is he anyway?” Jisung asks, looking around.

“He’s out with Luna.”

“Who’s that?”

You blink at him, not knowing if he was being sarcastic or not, “The girl Hyunjin has been going out with?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”, you’re shocked that Hyunjins childhood best friend has never heard of his new ‘girlfriend’.

“He’s literally gone on dates her three days in a row, like literally yesterday they went to the movies.”

“No, I was with Hyunjin yesterday, unless you know that and are trying to insult me.” He grins.

“Wait What? Why would he lie then?”

“No clue, but you should know better. He’d never date anyone having you around.” You looked at him confused, causing him to sigh and roll his eyes. “Nevermind.”

“Nooo tell me.” You whined, tugging at his arms.

“How do you not see it?”

“Han Jisung can you please tell me what the fuck you’re talking about.” Your patience was wearing thin, but you still needed to know.

“How do you not notice the way Hyunjin looks at you? He always stares at you like he wants to fucking EAT you it’s gross. But then, he won't shut. up. about you. Everytime we’re together it’s ‘Y/n this, Y/n tha,’ it's sickening. Like, you both should just get married already for Christ’s sake.”

You stare at him for a bit, not knowing what to say.

“You think Hyunjin likes me?” Your voice breathier than you intend.

“Oh my god yes. Why do you think he has a pile of your clothes in his closet? Or he excuses himself everytime he sees you in his clothes to jerk off? Or when he sits next to you while you're working just to WATCH you. I’ve literally never seen him so obsessed with someone. He literally brings a tissue sprayed with your perfume when he goes out. It’s concerning honestly.”

Everything starts to dawn on you then and there, was Hyunjin trying to make you jealous with the whole Luna thing? Is THAT why he always tried to tell you gross details you didn’t want to know?

Well shit, you thought. Obviously you had to come up with some sort of plan for when he came home.

-time skip, hour and a half later-

You somehow came up with a good enough excuse to send everyone home, and now Hyunjin was expected to walk through the door any minute. You’re currently laying on his bed, in literally nothing but his T-shirt and underwear, your nipples very visible. You’re reading (not really) a book, with your legs up, resting the book on your lap. You are very aware of the almost clear view of your pink laced underwear.

You heard Hyunjin walk in, assuming you're asleep since everyone’s gone and the apartment was dead quiet. Your heart beats faster as you hear his footsteps getting nearer, until he stops in his tracks after seeing you.

“Y-Y/n?” He couldn’t help the nervousness in his voice.

“Hyunjinnn!” You smile, putting your book down and getting up to hug him. “Why were you out so late?”

“O-Oh me and Luna, went to her house after.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Of course you did, you know, I don’t like her very much.”

“Why?” Hyunjin was genuinely confused by your sudden confession.

“I don’t know, it just bothers me how much time you spend with her. I bet she’s not even that pretty, definitely not as pretty as me.” Hyunjin tries to bite back a smile, but you catch him anyway.

Without warning you pulled him close, and whispered in his ear, “Bet that’s what you wanted to hear, right?” His breath hitches, not used to having you so close, especially like this.

He almost whines when you pull away, walking back towards his bed. “Sorry I borrowed one of your shirts, figured you wouldn’t mind given the fact that you take my clothes all the time.” You point to the pile of clothes you had pulled out from his closet that belong to you.

You almost laugh at Hyunjin’s shocked expression. “I can explain!” He stammered nervously, trying to find an explanation. “First you lie to me, then you steal my clothes, honestly what am I going to do with you?” You stare at him, placing your hands on your hips.

“What lie? I lied to you?”

You let out a dark chuckle, causing Hyunjin’s dick to twitch in his pants. He was so focused on the way you looked in his shirt, that he didn’t notice how painfully obvious his bulge was.

“I didn’t know Jisung was with you and Luna yesterday, and neither did he actually. In fact, he claims he’s never even heard of a Luna.” Hyunjin can’t do anything but gulp. He really didn’t know your plan here.

“Sit on the bed Hyun.” You say simply. And like a lost puppy, he mindlessly listened to you.

He’s taken aback when you straddle his lap, but couldn’t help his arms snaking around your waist. “You see Hyun, I like you very much but I didn’t think you felt the same. Especially because I don’t see myself as the type you’d like. But Jisung told me quite a few of your dirty secrets.” Your voice was laced with dominance as you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I like you alot.” He practically blurts out, like he’d die if he didn’t say it. “Hmm yeah? How much?”, you purr, dragging your thumb over his bottom lip.

“I Like you so much it hurts, no, I love you so much it hurts. To see you every day and not be able to just hold you and tell you how much I love you? Or to not just pin you to the counter and blow your back out when you wear those stupid thrift store t-shirts that are longer than your tiny shorts? To not be able to see your face when you sing those stupid songs in the shower?” You shut him up with a kiss, because you swear if he keeps going you’ll give up your dominance.

You were surprised at first, the way he kisses you. It was so gentle, so intimate, it almost makes you want to stop this all and just cuddle him for the rest of the night.

But then the kiss becomes needy and desperate. You bite his bottom lip slightly, and waste no time slipping your tongue in his mouth. You can’t lie, you’ve fantasized about his lips alone for so long. So plump, so beautiful.

Hyunjin groans when you softly grind on him, pushing your hips closer to him. He pulls away from your lips and quickly attaches them to your neck, pulling a beautiful lacy whimper from you. His teeth grazing and nipping at the sensitive skin.

You reach down to tug his shirt off, which he quickly complied. You take it upon yourself to take off your (hyunjin’s) shirt as well.

“Fuck me.” He groans, staring at your chest. You chuckle at him before bringing his right hand up to cup your breast. That was enough of a green light for him to take your left nipple into his mouth, pinching the other one.

You let out a surprised yelp at the sensation, starting to grind down on Hyunjin again, but this time much harder. He groans into your chest, egging you on further.

You bring your hand down to touch yourself lightly over your underwear, mouth falling open. “Let me help.” Hyunjin grunted, his hand moving from your breast to your underwear. He somehow manages to get your underwear off rather quickly, and begins to run his fingers up and down your folds.

“So wet, bet you’re nice and warm already.” He breaths, slicking his fingers in your arousal. Hyunjin slips a finger into you rather easily, groaning at how your insides felt. You moan rather loudly, not expecting his singular finger to feel so nice inside of you. He added another finger, pumping them both in and out.

“Fuck.” You breathed, grinding down on his fingers. He suddenly curls them, pressing up on a spot that makes you squim.

“Yes Hyune, like that baby.” You moan satisfied with the feeling.

Hyunjin is having way to much fun finger fucking you, he nearly whines when you pull off of them.

“Gonna cum on your cock hyun, can you take that?”

Usually Hyunjin wouldn’t ever have a girl talk to him that way. He wasn’t a fan of being submissive. But it’s not any girl this time. It’s you.

He desperately nods. You hum in satisfaction, pulling out his dick in awe. You grind on his member softly, spreading yourself all over it. Hyunjin whines, and you give him a pitiful look before positioning yourself over his dick.

The moment you sink down on him, he’s far gone, enveloped in your delicious heat. He looks so beautiful, eyes drooping, mouth hung open with a hint of drool slipping from the sides.

“Stay with me pretty boy, or I won’t let you cum.”

You had him at pretty boy, and he was snapped back into reality, licking and nipping at your nipples once again. Your back arched at the sensation, not really wanting to go slow anymore.

You began bouncing up and down on him, fingers tangled tightly in his hair. You both were moaning messes, thrusting up sloppily into each other, trying to meet each other’s pace.

You clench down as you felt him twitch, slightly relieved that you were both close.

“Are you close, baby?” You coo at him, never slowing your pace. Hyunjin nods timidly. “Me too baby, please cum with me.” Your voice whimpering slightly at the end.

You swear you had the best orgasm of your life, riding out your high along with him.

You both laid next to each other, panting heavily.

“So,” you spoke, breaking the silence, “..can I have my clothes back?”

“No, you only get to wear mine from now on.”

A/n: guys I’m sorry I’m so bad at ending stuff but I rlly like this one actually :) it might be my favorite but there’s still so much room for improvement

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐀 ✵ ENZO VOGRINCIC

summary. pipe gives away way too much information when he’s drunk.

warnings. suggestive 18+ minor pipe otaño x f!reader

a/n. based off bota niña by bad gyal 🫦

you were beginning to regret accepting the boy’s invitation of hitting a club to celebrate the premiere of the movie. they had convinced you to join reminding you of the countless months you’d spent on set making sure everyone was taken care of. the large group had managed to reserve a secluded section big enough for the cast and their friends. you could barley hear anyone over the loud music blaring in the venue.

you were glad the tab wouldn’t fall on you as the boys kept ordering group shots and bottles of bacardi and champagne. you went slow not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of the cast. the last thing you wanted was to make a fool of yourself in front of your coworkers. you had image to keep up with.

“i’m gonna miss you.” pipe slurred as he laid his head against your arm.

“i’m gonna miss you too pipe.” you sighed not believing that you were probably never gonna see any of the guys again.

“can i kiss you?” he blurts out.

“pipe you’re drunk.” you try not to laugh as his drunk self betrays him.

“well i tried! i was so stupid to believe that you liked me over enzo.” he slouches back in his seat as he accepts defeat.

“over enzo? what does he have to do with this?” you ask him intrigued.

enzo had been the coworker you’d least interacted with during filming. he tended to spend more time with the guys and often kept to himself since he was practically the only uruguayan on set. on the few occasions that the two of you had spoken he had been cordial but reserved. it lowkey pissed you off because it left you wanting to know more. seeing him in the finished product was worse because he was full of talent and you had been so close to him yet so far.

“it’s so obvious he likes you.” he says as he tries to reach out for another shot but you intercept him. he’s had enough to drink tonight.

“you’re not funny pipe.” your eyes wander around the room until they land on the topic of conversation. his slicked back hair alone is enough to make you squirm. you quickly turn your attention back to the argentine in front of you.

“i’m the funniest person here besides franco.” he scoffs. “besides enzo was always asking about you on set and i’ve caught him staring. he totally likes you.”

“you’re so full of shit.” you shake your head as you laugh. “i’m gonna go have fun now so the hangover doesn’t bother me as much in the morning.”

you stand up adjusting your dress in the process. it was an absolute pain to always have to pull your dress down whenever it rode up but the high of the movie premiere was too strong to care. it was as if pipe’s observation had given you a wave of confidence and you found yourself standing in front of the others.

“does anyone want to come dance with me?” you ask in the nicest tone possible.

“enzo does!” pipe yells and you can’t help but send a glare towards him.

“no, my dancing is terrible.” enzo nervously giggles as he feels everyone’s eyes land on him.

“he’s lying!” franco throws him under the bus.

“i’ve seen him dance he’s decent.” esteban adds on to the teasing.

“he doesn’t need to come if he doesn’t want to. it’s fine.” you feel the heat rise up to your cheeks at their banter.

“nope! he’s going. he’s the best dancer i’ve ever seen.” pipe continues with his banter.

“enzo! enzo! enzo!” the rest of the people begin to chant as they egg him on. you were regretting asking them anything.

he stands up giving into the pressure from his cast mates. even though the club is dark and the lights are dim you can still notice the pink hue on his cheeks. he’s either embarrassed or flustered and you were beginning to feel bad.

“you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. i don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” you told him as he approached you.

“it’s fine besides it’ll give them something to talk about.” he smirked as the two of you headed towards the center of the room.

the club is dimly lit but you’re easily able to see people surrounding the two of you. they’re mostly all couples with the occasional group of friends somewhere in the mix. it also doesn’t help that it’s basically old reggaeton music blaring from the speakers meaning it was meant to be danced closely with your partner. you’re too shy to do anything and you quite literally stand there frozen unsure of what to do next.

“you can’t go all shy on me now.” he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him. “just a couple of minutes ago you were asking for a dancing partner.”

you try to not look shocked after all he is a man and he has his wants. but you have your needs. truth be told you had barely been romantically involved with anyone since filming had begun and wrapped. you were craving the attention of someone and you didn’t mind if it came from the extremely attractive protagonist. a newfound confidence had formed between the two of you and the music only encouraged you.

“so you don’t mind me touching you, right?” you ask him with a subtle smirk.

the dim lights manage to illuminate his face as he smiles at you. the moment occurring is intimate and probably the most you had ever interacted with him throughout the past three years you knew him. you couldn’t help but admire him, his attractiveness being too much for his own good. he didn’t realize how good looking he was but you had a feeling he would soon.

“depends, how?” he brings his lips near your ears due to the music to make sure you could hear him. the act making you shiver.

“like this.” you place your palm on his chest slowly trailing it down his chest. you lowered your body to the beat of the music at the same time. you surprised your self at how your body moved and how willingly you did it for him.

“fuck.” he murmured trying to make sure you didn’t hear him but you managed to catch it anyways. it was definitely an ego boost, you’d tell your friends about this.

you try to do it again but he grabs you and brings you chest to chest with him. he analyzes you and your breath hitches the suspense killing you. you’re not sure what he’s thinking and you don’t know if you just scared him off. he creeps his hand up your neck to your jaw cupping your face. he removes the couple of strands of hair that are blocking your face. his face gets closer to yours–your heart beating faster. one blink and his lips are on yours capturing them into a sensual rhythm.

you’re perfectly still for a moment not expecting a kiss from him but that doesn’t last long. you’re moving your lips against his in a second. his hand remains firm on your jaw as he kisses you. the two of you pull away for a second to catch your breath’s. you look up at him trying to decipher his feelings. you realize he liked it as much as you did when he leaned in for another one.

normally you would feel bad about the blatant pda in front of others but you weren’t thinking straight. maybe it was the lack of oxygen due to your lips being connected with his but all you wanted was to enjoy the passionate kisses he was giving you. your hand found it’s way into his messy hair tugging at the strands causing deep groans from him. it triggered something inside you. you’d never been kissed like this before nor held like this. you were so entranced by him you barely noticed the way his hand lowered down your body.

“you want to grab my ass and you haven’t even asked me out yet.” you remove his hand from your waist teasing him.

“oh come on you know how busy i’ve been.” he jokes. “come back to my room and i’ll make up for it.”

you offer him a forced smile clearly amused by his sudden confidence and his tempting offer. it was almost enough to make you break. but you didn’t want to be a simple one night stand he would forget. you may have found him attractive but you weren’t gonna lose your dignity.

“no enzo if you really want to make it up to me you’ll come to mine with dinner.” you kiss him on the cheek. “you know where to find me.” you say referring to fact that the whole cast was staying in the same hotel for the premiere.

you head towards the hotel dragging pipe and franco along with you. the two of them being so drunk you can barely get them into their rooms. when you were finally alone you brought your fingers up to your lips reminiscing about enzo and the feel of his lips on yours. you’re barely out of your heels when there’s a knock on your door. you believe it’s pipe coming to bother you once more but instead it’s enzo with a bag of takeout and that devilish smirk of his.

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Hihihi!

I'm not sure if your requests are open, but the fic I just read was a request and was posted within the last 24 hrs, so I'm gonna take the chance that they are (can you tell I'm autistic yet?😂)

Could I request a slightly nsfw (just a lil spicy) Bay!Raph fic where the Fem! Reader is watching him workout and offhandedly mentions that she wishes she could lift as much as he does?

Her question prompts him to let her lay on the bench and "lift" the weights (obviously he's carrying almost all of the weight). Just a corny little piece that shows our Big Red some love.

Thank you for your time!💜

Spotting | Raphael

requests are open dw!! honestly feel free to send as many requests as you want at any time, if they're not open you'll know because i'll plaster it somewhere obvious. and corny pieces are the best kind <3

since its valentine's day, i kind of went extra corny with a vague valentine's plot... i hope you like it and lemme know what you think! it's only slightly spicy and suggestive because tbh i wasn't sure how far to go.

warnings: suggestive, slight choking? (oops) valentine's day mentions, single people try not cry too much. everyone is 18+!! never proofread

summary: it's valentine's day and for some reason you have nothing better to do than watch raphael lift weights

word count: 1195

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Why are you lifting weights on Valentine’s Day?”

“Why are you watching me lift weights on Valentine’s Day?” Raphael retorts quickly and it’s such a good question that you pause.

Well, then. You sniff in mock indignance. “I’ll have you know that I was asked out by 12.5 different people ahead of today, thank you very much.”

You can’t see it, but you can tell he’s smirking. “12.5?”

“I figure Mikey only counts for 0.5 since I’m pretty sure he’d ask every woman he sees if he could.”

Raph snorts and your mouth pulls into a stupidly wide smile knowing you’ve amused him. He’s so relaxed like this, when it’s just the two of you, and your smile turns soft at the thought. There’s no one you’d rather spend the day with – Valentine’s Day or not – and the view isn’t bad either.

Speaking of... you tilt your head. Rivulets of sweat trickle down his green skin and you bite your lip watching the flexing of his muscles. He’s so much bigger than you, you’re pretty sure his bicep is bigger than your head, and he could cover your entire face with his palm – he’d done it just yesterday when you wouldn’t stop pestering him about a romcom you wanted to watch (it’s okay, you knew they were secretly his favourite kind of movie too, he didn’t have to protest so much – even grown turtles should be allowed to indulge in some Richard Gere and Julia Roberts). 

His size had intimidated you at first, had made you hesitant, but now it makes your knees weak and makes your heart accelerate with something entirely different to fear. It’s quiet apart from his breathing and the clang of his weights and you wonder if he can hear the thundering of your pulse.

“You’re staring.”

“Hmm?”

His muscles flex again and you’re quick to press your thighs together. You’re certain it's deliberate at this point. “You’re staring,” he repeats, his voice a little deeper.

You flush as you realise what he’s saying. “Not my fault you can bench press a truck,” you grumble to hide your embarrassment. “I’m jealous.”

The terrapin smirks again and sits up, his eyes bright. “C’mere.”

“Ex-squeeze me?”

It’s Raph’s turn to grumble. “You’ve been hanging around Mikey too much.”

You grin because it's true and walk slowly towards where he’s waiting. Your feet are clearly more sensible and less fuzzy than your brain (you are definitely not still thinking – and staring – at his arms, nope) because they stop just before you can stand between his legs. His eyes run along the curves of your calves and his gaze feels like a dizzying caress as it glides up your torso, lingering on the bare skin around your throat in a hungry way that makes you swallow just to watch him watch the movement. “What’s the plan, Red?” 

Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and you’re kind of impressed by how put-together you sound. It’s not the breathless wheeze you expected, it's low and sultry and suggestive and your eyes flutter as his breath hitches. The two of you have flirted before but this feels different. It’s intimate beyond your typical friendly banter and you have the urge to touch him.

He reaches for you first, pulling you closer and resting his hands on your hips. His hands are huge, and your mouth feels dry as he squeezes a little too hard to be innocent. “Raph...”

He squeezes again at your murmur. “Lie down.” His voice is rough and you shiver. He brushes his fingers across the goosebumps he’s raised, and you let him manoeuvre you with ease.

It probably looks so silly, and you fight the incredulous laughter that bubbles in your chest. The bar above you is ridiculously oversized and heavy and the thought of you lifting it is absurd and your laugh can’t be stopped this time as you look at the green-skinned ninja above you. His lips are twitching as you cackle and your eyes focus on the scar that decorates them, longing to soothe your tongue over it, as you regain your composure. “You good?”

“I’m good,” you reassure him. He’s so fucking cute, you think. You can see his nervousness now even if he tries to play it off and you feel like you’ve just swallowed a bucketful of butterflies. “Are you spotting?”

Raph runs his tongue – you do not shift your hips at how thick it is – across his upper lip, over that scar you want to taste for yourself. He looks torn for a moment, building himself up, and places his heavy hands on the bar above you. “Something like that,” he agrees before instructing you on how to position your hands.

You push up and immediately swear at the impossible weight. Raph snickers and you pout and glare simultaneously. “Don’t be mean.”

“You haven’t seen me be mean, baby.”

Oh. Your glare falters. That’s just not fair and he knows it. He’s grinning now and you curse him in your head. You push again and this time the bar lifts, as light as a feather. His hands are still wrapped around it and you’re not lifting a single thing, but the moment feels heavy. He hasn’t let his eyes drift from yours and you don’t dare look away. It feels intense and intimate and you can admit that your skin is on fire and your pulse is throbbing knowing how easily he’s carrying a weight that you couldn’t budge with all your might.

He guides the bar back down after a moment that could have been seconds or minutes or hours and you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He’s still looking at you as you sit up and he invades your personal space. You have to tilt your head back to maintain eye-contact and you shudder as his palm cups your chin.

He’s so tall and imposing and you have to bite your tongue as his hand trails further down. You let him wrap his fingers around your neck and you rest your hand on top of his in encouragement, unable to stop a needy whine as he heeds your silent request and squeezes gently. His pupils are blown and he’s breathing harder than he had been while working out and you feel smug knowing you’ve caused this reaction. In a blink he’s pushed you back and he’s leaning over you. He smells like sweat and his skin is damp from exertion and it's kind of gross and it really shouldn’t be turning you on, but it is and your legs spread involuntarily.

You expect him to close the gap between your lips as he hovers above you and your eyes that had fluttered shut open again when it’s clear he has no intention of moulding your mouths together. He’s got a soft look in his eyes paired with a devilish smile and it makes your chest burn. You don’t expect the next words out of his mouth.

“Be my Valentine?”

You splutter and he laughs as he finally presses his lips to yours.

[gay-dorito-dust]

‘You’re doing it again.’ Jason murmured.

‘Doing what, Jaybirdie?’ You blinked at him as his warm hands creeped on either side of your face, his thumbs then stated soothing your aching temples, causing you to groan at the sweet gesture and found yourself leaning into his touch; Glad to finally have some mental relief.

‘Overthinking, gorgeous.’ He replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he silently encouraged you to lean further against him, whilst watching your face for any signs of discomfort.

‘I’m not. I’m not overthinking.’ You tried to deflect but it only came out sleepy and sluggish as you stubbornly tried to pull yourself away from his firm hold.

Jason tightens his grip, though making sure not to hurt you in the process. ‘Then what’s this,mr/mrs/mx deeply furrowed brows?’ He asks as he softly tapped a finger to your brow. ‘I thought we’d talked about you overthinking yourself to death.‘ he adds on and you huff, knowing that it wasn’t wise to keep anything from Jason without him quickly catching on. He was smart like that and knew you well enough when something was wrong; something you love about him but also hated because you didn’t want to fell like a burden for overthinking about the same things over, and over again but you couldn’t help it.

When you didn’t say anything Jason sighed and adjusted you in his lap, resting his head against yours as this thumbs continued to work soothing patterns into your temples. ‘It’s not something to be ashamed of sweetheart, I know you can’t exactly help what you overthink and I don’t want you to think that I’ll get annoyed over it because that’s the last thing you need right now.’

You groan, making yourself more comfortable against him, allowing his bodily warmth to seep into you and drape over you as though you were being coddled in a weighted blanket with well defined muscles and a heartbeat. ‘Don’t you get tired of doing this every time?’ You asked meekly, not wanting to look into his eyes, fearing the worst that could possibly happen.

‘Nope.’ Jason replied without hesitation.

‘Why?’ You asked incredulously. ‘It’s rotten work.’ You add and you felt Jason tighten his grasp on you as he sharply inhaled.

‘Not to me, not to me you’re not. You’re anything but rotten work and I can name a thousand things that’s rotten work but taking care of you is never one of them.’ He says truthfully and you couldn’t help but whimper at this, not having been with anyone that was willing to put up with your tendencies to overthink and self-sabotage as much as Jason. You were about to say something but Jason cuts you off before you could, ‘and don’t go saying that you don’t deserve me when you’ve don’t nothing but proven yourself more then deserving of me in every which way. Don’t sell yourself short sweetheart. It breaks my heart to know that someone as amazing as you don’t see yourself the way I see you.’

‘And what’s that?’ You looked at him only to see him smiling at you as he peppered kisses to your face, making you giggle and smile at the butterflies he was giving you in your stomach. ‘Fucking brilliant, amazing, talented, and an overall fantastic human being who doesn’t deserve to spend a single minute of their life second guessing themselves.’ Jason lists off the top of his head before looking back at you as though to say well? Your move.

‘You win.’ You pouted and Jason laughed, kissing the pout from your lips as he rests his head against your own.

‘Good. Now let’s get some rest yeah? I know you must’ve be exhausted.’ You hummed in agreement, already finding yourself slipping into sleep from his thumbs that were still soothing your temples with their gentle caresses.

[bruisedboys]

STAR TRIPPING, blurbs ─── send in a character + a prompt from the lists above and I’ll write you a blurb!

❛ nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time! ❜ + miguel o’hara

hiii angel! thank you sm for the request, I cheated again and changed the dialogue a bit just to fit his character more!! love you xxx

miguel o’hara x gn!spider-person!reader, fluff, ditzy!reader, miguel being a grumpy worrywart tbh

You’ve messed up on a mission more times than you can count. You’re clumsy, you’re a bit on the uncoordinated side despite being a spider-person. And Miguel talking in your ear every five seconds makes you flustered. He’s got a nice voice, rough around the edges but smooth and velvety where it counts. And he’s never on anyone’s case as much as he is on yours, so every time he utters a command into your earpiece or tells you to watch out for a falling piece of building you almost trip on your own feet.

After yet another mission where all you did was get in the way, you make your way defeatedly to Miguel’s lab for a post-mission briefing. You know for sure he’s gonna bring up the fact that you stopped to tie your shoes in the middle of a fight, and he’s definitely gonna mention how unprofessional and dangerous that was. But listen, having untied shoelaces is a danger in itself. Especially when you’re the type of person to trip on tied shoelaces.

Miguel’s back is to you when you enter his lab, orange and blue holographic screens projected in front of him and around him. You don’t get to glimpse what he’s watching because he swipes it away with one hand as soon as you’re close enough to see, the screen disappearing into thin air like magic.

“Hi, Miguel,” you sing, as charmingly as you can, hoping to get out of a scolding.

Miguel sighs audibly, like your very existence irks him. “Hello, Y/N.”

“Uh, oh-kay, you don’t sound happy to see me,” you say, mocking offence.

Miguel turns to face you. He’s extraordinarily handsome, even when he’s scowling like he is now. The urge to push your thumb between his brows and smooth out the grumpy wrinkle there grows stronger every day.

“You’re right, I’m not,” he agrees, completely stoic. “Who ties their shoelaces in the middle of a fight?”

You huff. “Uh, me? You know I could’ve tripped on them, right?”

“Why d’you even wear shoes in the first place? They just get in the way.”

You roll your eyes and skip over to his desk, ignoring his question and instead entertaining yourself by going through the stuff on his desk. He’s not messy but he doesn’t necessarily keep it organised — there’s papers and gadgets and devices all over it just begging to be dug through. “You’re so grouchy.”

“You’re so careless. Don’t touch that.”

You pull your hand away from the important looking device with about a million buttons on it that you were about to pick up, giggling to yourself. It’s fun, annoying him. He’s all bark and no bite, especially when it comes to you. Maybe only when it comes to you. He’ll gladly let you know how much of a nuisance you are but never seems to actually do anything about it. Peter B. says it’s because he’s deeply in love with you. You say he’s just a big softie at heart.

“Look, Y/N,” Miguel says, and you know he’s about to go on one of his telling-offs. You can feel his eyes burning into you as you sit in his spinning desk chair and sway it side to side, the toes of your shoes skimming over the floor. “You can’t be so careless. It’s stupid. You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days.”

“Yeah, right. Death by shoelace,” you murmur to your shoes.

Miguel groans loudly. You look up at him. He’s turned away from you, pinching his nose with his head ducked, mumbling to himself what sounds suspiciously like curse words in Spanish. Even though you can’t understand what he’s saying, you can tell by the tense in his shoulders that he really is annoyed, not just fake annoyed like he usually is with you.

You mull it over in your brain. You could either one, deny you made a mistake, probably annoying him further and getting yourself kicked out of his office, or two, admit you messed up, which would hopefully get him to stop being so grumpy for once, and you can stay here as long as you please. You sigh and decide to admit defeat.

“Miguel?” You say into the silence, sweet as you can.

“What?” He snaps, still with his back to you.

“I’m sorry for tying my shoe in the middle of a fight. It was dumb. And I’m sorry for … getting in the way all the time.” You hop up off your seat and walk towards him, hoping he’ll turn at your approaching footsteps. When he doesn’t, you add, “Would you look at me? I’m trying to apologise here.”

Miguel turns around then, swivelling on his heel to face you. You’re close, close enough that you could reach out and touch his abdomen, his chest. You don’t, though you’d like to. Instead you give him a soft smile and your best I’m sorry eyes.

“I’m really sorry,” you say sincerely. “I’ll try to be more careful next time.”

Miguel stares at you, completely stoic apart from his eyes, which are significantly softer than usual. His frown stays put but his eyes go all melty, like they’ve been glazed with honey, and the furrow in his brows softens just slightly. He looks like he wants to say something. He opens his mouth, changes his mind and closes it, then opens it again.

“Are you giving me puppy dog eyes?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. “‘Cos that’s not gonna work on me.

“I’m not giving you puppy dog eyes,” you argue, even though you totally are. “I’m trying to say sorry.”

“Well, you’re forgiven,” Miguel says abruptly, shrugging his shoulders. “Just … please try to be more careful.”

You think he’s done with you until he reaches out and presses his thumb to your jaw in what you think is a show of affection, the pad of his thumb sliding down the length of your jaw, then a brush of the back of his fingers under your chin, a trail of burning hot stars left in his wake. You think your whole face might be on fire, but it’s over as soon as it starts, and Miguel goes right back to scowling. “And stop looking at me like that.”

He drops his hand and turns away from you abruptly, pulling up a holographic screen with a list of anomalies yet to be caught. You don’t comment on the implication that his last sentence has made — that your I’m sorry eyes really had been working quite well on him — but instead spend the next five minutes in a shocked sort of silence, the weight of his touch still present on your now burning face.