#ill just quietly fucking adore this

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OOH YEAH BABY! PARTY TIME BABY! MUSIC! DRINKS! SOCIAL PRESSURE & A PSYCHEDELIC BREAK DOWN! WELCOME TO VAMPIRE SOCIETY MOTHERFUCKER! ARE YOU SCARED? DO YOU UNDERSTAND YET? ITS OKAY IF NOT. FIRE DISSOLVED IT! ITS ALL GONE NOW. HAVE FUN!

[llamagoddessofficial]

How would your Sanses act when they are getting sick and MC takes care of them?

AWW we've done so many scenarios about the boys looking after a sick Mc. It's long past due their turn to be sick!

Sans: When he's sick, he just absolutely koalas onto you. He loses all his inhibitions and sticks to you like glue. It doesn't matter what he's doing, how aware he is, how weak or sick he feels, he will follow you to the ends of the earth to cuddle you. Cooking? He's hugging you from behind the whole time you cook. Doing laundry? He's sitting beside you, snoozing with his head on your shoulder. At first, you might try to encourage him to lay down and go to sleep before you try to sneak off and do something, but as soon as you get there he appears like a half-asleep ghost to hold onto you. There's no escape. Even Papyrus can't save you.

If anything, it's a nice opportunity to wind down. You have to - you have no choice. It's also very cute when Sans is woozy and snuggly.

Red: For very obvious reasons, Red does not like being sick. He's a macho man!! He doesn't need babying!! Red frequently hides/downplays how unwell he feels, and the more sick he gets the more snappish and foul-tempered he becomes. He won't admit he's ill until he's absolutely wrecked. Even when he's figuratively on death's door, he's extremely combative and aggressive, he refuses pretty much all help. Being sick means being weak, and he cannot be weak.

... Unless it's you. When you're around, he's a big delirious flirty idiot, and he'll do whatever you say. If his brother so much as gently suggests he should have some water, Red bristles and starts a fight. But when you tell him to lay the fuck down and take his medicine like a big boy... well, who is he to argue with a pretty face?

"hey. humans can't get monster sicknesses, right? maybe you should give me a kiss. right here. might make me heal faster."

"Be quiet and drink your soup."

"yes ma'am."

Skull: It makes a lot of sense for Skull to get sick around you, if you think about it. His mind and body have been in a constant state of stress for such a long time, never allowing him to slip, not even for a moment; being with you finally allows him to relax enough to get ill.

Despite his generally eeby nature, Skull isn't very good at 'turning off'. He always wants to be helping, doing something for you, making something or fixing something, providing. He feels like a bad husband if he's not helping. He'll regularly need steering back to bed - he shuffles into the room, half-aware and with his blanket still draped around his shoulders, wanting to help with whatever you're doing despite absolutely needing to rest. If you leave him alone too long he'll start quietly doing chores.

Fun fact, it's actually scientifically proven that Skull heals faster if you treat him like the big baby he is. Put a blanket over him and a cup of tea on the coffee table, give him kisses while he drifts in and out of sleep. Turn on your favourite TV show and stay with him all day, pet his cranium when his head hurts, gently sing to him until he falls asleep. He spends so much time being the provider, the caregiver, the hunter, the gatherer, the protector. And as much as he adores caring for you... he completely forgot how it felt to be the one being cared for.

He doesn't mind being reminded. He doesn't mind at all.

[vivvangel]

could u do when enha sees u trying to reach smtg on top of tha shelf ( short reader ) tysmmm and I love ur content

viv's note 💌: this is such a cute ask, thank u!! tried keeping it gender neutral. girlies who read dork diaries raise your hand also nikis scenario is a bit diff ig ☝🏻 ✧ warnings: very small and precise scenarios tbh. enha x short reader, teasing, use of nicknames and swearing. fluff!

tiny | enhypen reaction to their short s/o trying to reach something on top of the shelf !

LEE HEESEUNG (♡⁠)

"what are you doing, baby?" he says, a smirk spreading on his lips when he sees you not being able to reach the top shelf. "just tryna-" you pause, tiptoing to reach it, but no avail. "just trying to grab my mug, hee" you turn around, pouting — heeseung thinks you're absolutely adorable, coming towards you and patting your head, grabbing the mug with ease, you could never. "here you go," he smiles softly, why was your boyfriend such a giant? you weren't short, he's just too tall! really.

PARK JONGSEONG (♡⁠)

from the bedroom, jay heard you screaming, "JAAAAAYY" — him frantically running to your voice, "what's wrong?, oh my god" jay's eyes scan the room for a second, "love, what's wrong?" he asks softly. you looked at him, as you stood in front of the bookshelf, with your hands on your hip. cute, jay thinks, walking to you. "my majesty, how can i help you?" he says sarcastically and you point to the fourth shelf, "dork diaries, i wanna reread.. dork diaries" you say, your voice trailing off into a mere whisper by the end of it. "goodness sake, love" he eyerolled, grabbing it for you.

SIM JAEYUN (♡⁠)

baking with jake, what could ever go wrong? nothing, except the fact you couldn't reach a damn thing. "i swear in another life, ill be born as a 7 foot nba player, for fucks sake" you huff, as a result of being unable to grab the sugar, as you continue mixing the cupcake batter to achieve a more liquid state. "yeah right, you'd still be a short dork" jake chuckles, shooting you a playful glance as he grabbed the sugar from the shelf, sliding it on the counter to you. "hey, you aren't that tall yourself, mr sim" you taunt, making him grin. "taller than the you, aren't i?" — "oh, shut up yunie"

PARK SUNGHOON (♡⁠)

the front door of your shared apartment flung open, sunghoon glancing at the door before his eyes went back on the game he was playing on the tv. "you home already?" he asks, glancing at you once again as you come in with your shopping bags, putting them down on the kitchen counter. "you will not believe what happened!" you say, sunghoon noting a frustrated tone in your voice. he looks behind, "mhm, tell me about it" and looks back at the game. "i was at the store, and i was struggling to grab stuff from the shelves and the worker there thought i was a fucking child, can you believe that?" you scoff, it was completely unbelievable to you that they'd think that — not that unbelievable to your boyfriend, sunghoon, who literally always towered over you. he quietly chuckles — "stop laughing at my misery, hoon!"

KIM SEONWOO (♡⁠)

"baby, i wanna do that big boy trend" you voiced out, sitting up on the sofa. "big boy trend? isn't that dead already?" sunoo says skeptically, side eyeing you. you whine out a please, and he agrees — "but cutie, compared to you, i'm like.. actually big, you couldn't even grab the bowl—" he says, biting his lip to hide the wheeze that would come out if he didn't, "i'm not short!" — "yeah, princess, whatever you say. now come here!"

YANG JUNGWON (♡⁠)

"wonie, i have something extremely serious to talk about" you lowly say, making jungwon look at you, narrowing his eyes. "serious, huh? what's up?" he says, his voice laced with concern. "i think.. i think i'm too short for you" — what? jungwon starts laughing, how does he have the audacity to laugh! "why are you laughing, won?" you question him, crossing your arms. "baby, you're so tiny and cute, i wanna put you in my pocket. -- oh? is this about you not being able to grab my tie from that box earlier?" he chuckles, and you nod. "you're so short, but you're cute so it's fine" — "so, you think i'm short?" — "i think you're cute, y/n"

NISHIMURA RIKI (♡⁠)

having a boyfriend so tall, makes you look like a little gremlin beside him (his words, not mine!) "riki, i'm literally not that short, you're just—" you tiptoe, trying to get the childhood photo of you out of his hands, you don't even get to finish your sentence, niki cutting you off. "i'm just too tall" he mimics your tone, bursting out in laughter, ruffling your hair. "hey! i wasn't done!" you pout, but he kisses it away.

[sheeluvsme]

Let’s talk about how price is literally husband material …

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE HEAD CANNONS 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️ I love this man sm …. I normally hate facial hair on a guy BUT GOD DAYM COD MEN PULL THAT SHIT OFF..

Mix of sfw and nsfw blurbs bc I’m a silly guy. I really enjoy writing this shit bc I literally will be kicking my feet twirling my hair .. ( warning fem body parts used!) as I write this shit LMAOO enjoy!!! Ps. Not proof read..I wrote this at like 4 in the morning

He literally is so good to you , you can’t even be like mad at him over ANYTHING.

There was a time he accidentally dropped his cigar and it caught the bare skin of your leg AND HE FELT SO BADDDDD

He literally can not stand the thought of you being hurt..

He DEF SENDS CARE PACKAGES WHEN HES OUT FOR MONTHS AT A TIME

Being gone for so long he always takes a shirt of yours DRENCHED in your most used perfume so when he sleeps he can trick his brain into thinking your there.

He would be a king of taking care of your son your period!!!

Your sitting there curled up trying to not wake him up but you are just in so much pain :// and his ass senses it through his slumber?:!:?:?

“ you alright love?” He mutters into your shoulder. GOD HIS MORNING VOICE IS HOT. He woke up from feeling you tense up and sigh and whine quietly from the pain. “ yeah. Just my period.” You mumble into your pillow. He carefully pulls his arm around you , “ where” he asks. “ what-?” You ask confused. “ where is it cramping now love? I’ll massage it for you.” He whispered. You can’t help but swoon because you got the best husband in the WORLD “it’s my stomach right now-“ and immediately he takes his hand rubbing your stomach. The pain is suddenly being soothed and you can finally un-tense. “ theree you go love. I got you.” He kisses your shoulder softly. “ I’ll stay like this for a bit and then ill grab your heating blanket and a cup of tea hm? “ you feel him smile against your shoulder.

He’s very caring towards you but let’s not forget how you treat him like royalty fr

He always comes back with SOMETHING wrong with his back , and he whines about it to you every time so you’ll massage his back for him. He always wins you over.

He thinks he’s def undeserving  of you, your so sweet to him! He’s not used to women liking him just because you love him as a person himself. He’s had past girlfriends that just liked him for money benefits. Not you though, you literally freak out when he spends WAY too much on you “ John price!?— how much was this necklace??” And he always smiles and says “ don’t worry about it. “ he has learned lots of money saving tricks from you , he calls you a penny pincher LMAOO, he thinks it’s cute though you worry about him spending to much money like he doesn’t got enough.

He absolutely adores when you wear his hat , he thinks your the cutest thing on planet earth but dear god he’d never let you near any of the shit he does😭

You get along with 141 pretty well and it makes price really happy.

You’ve all been to the bar numerous of times and he likes watching you and soap bicker about stupid shit “ you..you eat lamb stomach?” “ ITS CALLED HAGGIS AND ITS GOOD!!”

Ghost and price giggling in the background.

They know how much you mean to there captain so they also would do anything to protect you

Your at a bar with them and some guy try’s talking to you and grabs your shoulder THEN HE JUST SEES A BUNCH OF TALL ASS GUYS GLARING HIM DOWN LMAOO let’s hope Buddy wore brown pants 🙏🏻

NSFW !!

Price lovesssssss eating you out , LITERALLY ANYWHERE IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE. Especially if you had a shitty day at work , your in the shower trying to rinse off the day and suddenly you feel your not alone anymore..

Manz lifts you up on HIS SHOULDERS SO HE CAN EAT YOU OUT

He’s more dominant but he doesn’t mind you taking lead AT ALL

Man goes insane when you ride him

He can’t sleep , but you know he needs to. He hasn’t been sleeping much sense his last mission, he’s clearly stressed. Your hugging him..hugging turns to kissing. Kissing turns to groping, and then it turns to you ontop of him grinding against his bulge. “ fuck..let me take care of you, yeah?” You simply shake your head “ no captain. It’s time I take care of you.” He can’t deny your request when you look heavenly ontop of him. Helping each other slip off each other’s clothes, he loves looking at your tits , he finds how they feel so nice in his hands. He can’t help but grunt when you sit down on him and slowly begin to move your hips. His hands are gripped TIGHTLY against your hips. He can’t stop himself from using his hands to help move you and fuck you , he wants to be able to hit the deepest parts of you because honestly he fantasizes about getting your pregnant. He loves shooting a full load in you and praying you get pregnant, be there to take care of you , and most Importantly get to see a little baby made by you and him!!! Makes him go nuts , that’s why you and him fuck way too much around your cycle.

He is BIG into photos and videos of you.

He records videos of him fucking you and then watch them while he’s away, or he’ll take pictures to look at when he feels lonely on a trip!!!

He keeps a nude picture of you in his wallet ;)) soap was traumatized when price asked him to get something out his wallet and he found something HE DID NOT WANT TO SEE , soap has you and him down in his phone as ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ seeing that was horrific for him 😭😭

Thank you for reading <33 commissions open!!!

[maybcnksgf]

sick - jj maybank.

the one in which jj is sick and needs you to take care of him. cue your overdramatic boyfriend.

a/n some toothrotting jj fluff, sorry not sorry <3

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

warnings: mentions of sickness, throwing up? other than that none.

check out my masterlist here! enjoy <3

perhaps jj's claim of "i have polio bro, i can't walk" to john b that morning wasn't quite as crazy as you'd expected it to be. obviously, polio was far from the reality of his sickness, but that didn't stop you from worrying when he still hadn't emerged from your room over an hour later.

he typically would have slept in the guest room (especially if john b had anything to say about it), but he was just so rough last night that john b caved and let his sick best friend sleep in the comforting embrace of his sister.

"john b, please. look at him," you pleased with your brother as you pointed to the mess that was jj maybank collapsing onto your couch in a dramatic heap, mumbling about how he was convinced that he was dying. "you know luke won't take care of him, and do you really expect anything to happen while he's in this state?"

john b groaned at the gross mental image you so graciously provided him, but he reluctantly nodded his head and helped you move your boyfriend into your bed.

"any funny business while i'm here and i'll kill you before this illness can, maybank."

"fuck off, jb."

you crept into your bedroom quietly, closing the door behind you and sitting down on the edge of your bed. the curtains were drawn, providing a slight relief for jj's pounding head, and you put the glass of water and ibuprofen down on the bedside table in favour of running your fingers through his hair.

his face was pressed against the pillow, his cheek smushed in an adorable manner.

"jj," you spoke softly, not wanting to hurt his head any more as you tried to wake up as gently as possible. "wake up, love."

he groaned at the disturbance of his sleep, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter. "i don't wanna."

"cmon, sweetheart. i have medicine for you."

he groaned a little louder and eventually sat up, leaning back against the headboard as he gave you an adorable pout. his nose had turned a light shade of pink and his eyes were still half closed and a little puffy, glazed over with the remnants of sleep.

"oh baby," you cooed softly, resting a hand on his cheek and frowning at the way he leaned into your touch. "how are you feeling?"

"like i'm on my fuckin' death bed."

you chuckled quietly at his words and he gave you a playfully annoyed look, but your smile dropped when you felt his cheek start to heat up beneath your palm.

you moved your hand away from his face (much to jj's dismay) and pressed the back of it against his forehead. "you're burning up, j."

"i'm dying, y/n," he groaned dramatically, grabbing your arm gently and trying to pull you closer. "kiss me, save me."

"you're not dying, jj," you laughed quietly again and pressed a kiss to his cheek before handing him the water and medicine. "here, take this and drink the whole thing, it should help with your temperature."

the rest of your day was spent cuddling your overdramatic, helpless boyfriend and providing him with plenty of kisses (even if it meant you would get sick too).

"hey, y/n/n?"

"yeah, j?"

"i think i'm gonna throw up."

"great."

-

a/n feel free to check my pinned and send me some requests!

[agirlcandream84]

More Boyfriend!Frank Headcanons

Am I mentally ill at this point? All signs point to yes. Anyway, here's more Frank headcanons.

He's always a gentleman and assisting with the stuff that requires muscles BUT he does secretly like to watch you struggle with a jar of pickles or whatever from time to time. Huffing and puffing, those adorable grunts you make, watching how long you'd go without asking for help before finally strutting over to you with a smirk and taking the jar, popping it open with ease and kissing your forehead with "there ya go babydoll"

You love to be barefoot around the house and he is CONVINCED you'll catch your death, putting slippers on your feet or saying "at least put some socks on doll, you're killin' me" and he'd get especially mad when a random glass would break and you'd standing barefoot amongst the shards. Quite literally lifting you by the armpits to place you somewhere safe.

He simultaneously thinks your independence is hot AND would prefer to never let you out of his sight. So when you grab drinks with the girls, he'd lie when he dropped you off and let you think he was headed back home but really he was just waiting in the car for hours outside the bar, ready to get you home safe when the night wrapped up.

There is nothing fragile about his masculinity so when you realize you're out of mascara at 11pm, he's at the drugstore and facetiming you, showing you the wall of mascras and reading the names all confused "Super Telescopic Carbon Black? Shit, is this a mascara or a telescope sweetheart," he'd tease you before spending another 15 mins finding the exact one you wanted and then buying 3 so you have backups.

He is generally a man of few words, EXCEPT for two places: the bedroom (more on that in a minute) and when he knew you'd reached your social limit at a party or event. Just as you were feeling tapped out you'd feel a warm hand land on your back as he'd step into the conversation, taking the lead and making polite conversation so you could just stand quietly for a bit

The bedroom (and let's be real, all the other places you have sex)- this man is a talker. It's just unending streams of praise, half of them pitying in response to your incoherent whimpers. So much "takin' me so well sweetheart" or "such a good girl for me doll" or "I know baby, I'm going slow. S'alright" or "It's ok sweetheart, make all the noise you need."

He looooovveeesss to see you ride him but his chest and torso are so damn broad that straddling him and getting a rhythm feels impossible. He watches you struggle a bit, your tits mesmerizing him, before he grabs your hips, rocking you baacccck and fooorrttth, his hands occasionally wrapping around to cup and squeeze your ass cheeks.

While he certainly enjoys receiving head, he much MUCH prefers giving it. He loves the sense of total control he has over your pleasure, the way your hands tug at his hair, the way your thighs graze his face, the way "frankie" tumbles from your lips as your whole body trembles.

He fucking loves how soft you are. Soft skin, soft hair, soft squishy thighs. He's constantly kneading you, mumbling "so fuckin' soft" in your ear.

K byyyeeeeee

[fushigurro]

𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𝗫 𝗙!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / daddy kink / slight somnophilia?? but like not entirely / reader is mildly physically ill / m!masturbation / thigh fucking / pet names (baby + babygirl + good girl)

toji wakes up with a hard cock and he tries to let it go because he’s been holding you in his arms; you’re feverish and sleeping restlessly unless he’s got a good hold on you, so that’s how he stays. but still, his body betrays him.

he can’t ignore the ache, not when you’re looking so cute even in your state of illness, so he palms himself through his sweats and it only gets worse; thinks he might be able to quietly rub one out while you’re still asleep, but the movement and lack of contact from him wakes you up.

“fuck baby, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you up.” maybe he should’ve gotten up, but he didn’t want to leave your side, so now your eyelids are fluttering open to the sight of toji on his back behind you, slowly jerking his cock and cursing himself for disturbing you.

even though you feel rough, there’s something about it that makes you wanna help, to be included somehow. “you can use me… to help,” you mumble sleepily, and he shakes his head.

“nah, don’t worry about it baby. just try to go back to sleep, okay?” he rubs your arm a little roughly but affectionately, and unfortunately touching you only makes him harder.

it’s your turn to shake your head this time. “just do it. want you to.” your voice is feeble, but still his favorite sound. toji leans in to press a kiss to the back of your neck and contemplate for a moment what he should do. you’re sick and he’s throbbing, and fuck you’re still just offering yourself up to him like such a perfect little thing. he can’t fight the temptation.

toji rolls back onto his side and presses his chest to your back, holding you close once again and breathing against your neck. “gonna let daddy use you a little?” he asks, brushing your hair away and placing kisses against your skin, holding your leg up a bit, and then slipping his cock between your thighs.

eyes closed again, you nod and scoot back against him. you don’t need to say anything else.

“yeah, that’s a good girl.” he presses one last kiss up against your temple and starts to rock his hips, dragging his length back and forth between your thighs with a satisfied groan. once he sets a rhythm, he drops your leg back down and lets the pressure around him increase.

you’re a little too disoriented and wanting to drift back to sleep to do much other than just lay there, but you do manage to gently hold onto the arm he now has wrapped around your waist as he fucks your thighs.

toji’s speed starts to increase and he does his best to handle you with care, to not lose himself and go too crazy on your poor body, but the motion does jostle you enough to have you furrowing your brows a bit. he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing, but you look so fucking adorable either way.

“i know, babygirl, i know. daddy’s almost done,” he breathes in your ear and goes a little faster, still gritting his teeth and trying to keep himself in check until he eventually spills across your leg and onto the sheets, pumping out his orgasm with a few final stuttered thrusts.

toji breathes and kisses the back of your neck in appreciation. you’re already being pulled back into sleep and he uses a couple of tissues from the box next to the bed to clean up the mess in the meantime, not wanting to disturb you further. he feels just a little fucked up over it all, but you seem perfectly content to snuggle back into him and soak in all the extra heat as you fall asleep.

[inchidentally]

Crown Prince Lando AU idea based entirely on his appearance today in Italy for his trophy and Lawrence writing about how every team is courting Lando

okay so I wrote this rly fast on the work laptop and you have to just ignore the weird interpretations of how royalty and inheritance etc works. and completely fucking with how things went down in F1 history. it's an absolute mess and possibly unreadable but I literally couldn't stop myself.

if you're a fic author then pleaaaaase have a look and see if you can take this and actually make anything out of it even if it needs a lot of changes.

Crown Prince Lando has been fought over by nations since he was seventeen years old. His parents had retired from royal duties to live quietly in the countryside but a series of deaths and lack of heirs resulted in Lando living most of his life being prepared for ascension to the throne. His parents did as good a job as they could to keep Lando humble and "normal" while having to live a kind of sequestered monastic existence.

As he grew so did his future subjects' love and adoration of him. They loved his humor and his cheeky treatment of the solemn institution surrounding him. As he grew into being a beauty the country took endless pride in him and watched his exploits as a touring royal closely.

Fernando Alonso was the first to pledge his troth to Prince Lando because he could see the promise in Lando of one day becoming a truly beloved ruler - a quality he himself had found wanting in his own slow gathering of power. However he was persuaded early on by his advisers and Lando's parents to withdraw due to his 'already advanced age'. Lando's debut at court was postponed by his parents to prevent any other establishment attempting to lay their claim before Lando felt comfortable and ready.

The powerful Sainz Vázquez de Castro family swooped in next and arranged a series of public meetings between Prince Lando and their wicked (meaning "experienced") and devastatingly handsome son Carlos Jr. His charisma and dark eyes charmed Prince Lando immediately and a wedding date was set for the following year. Lando's debut at court was hastily arranged to happen mere days prior. Probably should insert something here about Lando being made to live this period of life in a guarded tower and attendants being present whenever he was with Carlos because chastity being required for marriage. And the only way to keep Carlos' dick out of Lando was the threat of a priest's guard cutting it off. But lbr they manage to sneak around well enough to do everything else.

Unfortunately the royal courts of Europe were shaken by a quick series of upsets: Sovereign Prince Lorenzo of Monaco abdicated the throne in search of a quieter life - his heart had never been in it since his father, the former sovereign, had become ill and abdicated. This left Lorenzo's unwed brother Charles to be hastily crowned Prince Regent at the tender age of 22 (and unable to become sovereign himself due to being a second son, again my weird rules). As a result Charles suffered the loss of his long-time suitor, nobleman Sebastian Vettel, who couldn't bear the thought of being sovereign let alone of a land that wasn't even his own.

Enter the Sainz Vázquez de Castro elders siezing the opportunity and negotiating a deal with Monaco in private conclave with the Papal State (??) to wed their son Carlos to the Prince Regent. Carlos is ashamed at giving in to the temptation… to not just be King Consort but to be Sovereign Prince, to rule over the vast wealth of Monaco and by extension the Holy See, to have the coveted beauty Charles in his bed. So he agrees to be spirited away to Monaco and the ugly business of dissolving his betrothal to Lando is left to members of church and state.

But Carlos experiences a complete conversion when Charles is on his knees in the cathedral - looking up at him with docile green eyes as Carlos' fingertips touch the warm red roses of Charles' lips as he holds the chalice of holy wine for Charles to drink. Carlos was almost hard beneath the ermine and velvet robes in a house of God when the crown was on his head and Charles next to him - and slightly below - smiling up at him with filaments of gold hanging from pendants on his chaplet, framing his achingly beautiful face. If Carlos feels his immense happiness and prosperity darken whenever he sees Lando's picture or encounters him at one of the courts then no one need know.

Prince Lando is of course too heartbroken to consider other suitors and his court is demoralized by their own failure to seal his future. Only brash American tycoon Zak Brown keeps the faith that Lando's appeal as he grows will land him a better match than any Euro old money looking to aggrandize themselves and take advantage of Lando's youth to displace his rightful future as King.

A stroke of genius is the arrival of commoner Daniel Ricciardo whose rise up the ranks of society has hit more than a few speedbumps over the years. He's in the perfect position to act as placeholder and a sort of 'playmate' for the young Prince Regent. Daniel does the job of squiring Lando around and cheering him up beautifully. So beautifully that Daniel begins to see in his charge's wide eyes a future that he had only ever let himself dream of before. He begins to publicly push the boundaries of propriety with Lando like holding hands, embracing him from behind, dancing scandalously close together. The dam begins to break when Daniel opens a public social media account and begins posting adoring and fairly intimate videos of Lando that prove to be a massive hit with the public… and that fan rumours of the Crown Prince breaking with tradition and marrying a commoner.

Exeunt Daniel Ricciardo.

(Yes I know this isn't remotely his role but go with it) Newly appointed Lord Chancellor Andrea Stella proposes that only a candidate the same age as Lando - or ideally younger - should be considered to ensure that his claim to the throne be safeguarded. Because Lando hasn't spent the intervening years doing nothing but swooning over a succession of suitors, he's perfected his role and learned his court and won over the hearts of his people. He's effected harmonious relations with rival kingdoms seemingly effortlessly. The royal coffers have never been so full and trade is booming. Lando and his court all know that Lando could easily rule alone. But the fire that the now King of Monaco had lit inside him refused to go out. It begged to be fueled and to burn brighter.

Then one day Andrea hears a murmur of controversy happening in the middling levels of the aristocracy. The scoundrel Alonso had construed a match between one Oscar Piastri and Frenchman Esteban Ocon as a means of effecting his (Alonso's) escape and aggrandizing the Alpine dynasty. There were further details about a drama between Ocon and countryman Pierre Gasley but all that interested Andrea was that young Piastri had ordered a direct pronouncement be made against the match and any further association with Alpine. He had already rejected the opportunity of being presented at court and clearly had plans for his own future that would not depend on the protection or condescension of any other power but his own.

Imagine Andrea's surprise when Zak Brown announces at the next privy council meeting that preliminary arrangements had been made with young Piastri to be the Crown Prince's companion for the following season. A pretense at Piastri having an interest in royal politics was to be given to everyone, including Piastri himself. But Andrea and Zak shared a knowing look across the mote-stained light straining through the high windows of the old chamber. The Crown Prince barely even hears the details as he wearily signs off on the public notice along with the other endless papers at his elbow. He doesn't even dream that a wildcard is being played for his future happiness.

The eldest son of the prominent and noble Piastri family from Tuscany is suitably beautiful with the characteristic straight brow, fine pale features and soulful deep amber eyes of his people. He is tall and still growing with an effortless regal bearing despite his youth. The first few meetings between him and the Crown Prince are cordial and with a promising warmth. Andrea is encouraged by the pink that rises high on Piastri's pale cheeks whenever he shares smiles with Lando but he's even more encouraged by the steady intensity of his gaze when Lando isn't looking.

For the first few months, Piastri remains a faithful but distant part of Lando's royal retinue. They interact often enough and clearly like each other. But it also comes at a time of unrest in Lando's kingdom as a result of the ascension of an ambitious and possibly ruthless young King in the Netherlands. Lando proposes a visit to Castle Toro Rosso and asks Piastri to accompany them due to the Italian affiliation with the Dutch royal house. Something about Piastri's calm and quiet confidence helps stabilize Lando and he needs all the support he can get.

The visit is strained and the Dutch court is intimidating - and rather grating - in it's brash opulence and show of dominance. The young King is more of a mystery, seeming cold and aloof but flashing a wry smile at Lando's well-known charm and humor. The tide turns entirely in Lando's favor at the tourney. Lando has been barred from jousting following his formal presentation as crown prince due to some finicky archaic British law and it eats away at it him to have to sit and watch while the Dutch King was allowed to ride for himself. More than once Lando moodily pushes at the circlet that keeps slipping over his curls and can feel himself being increasingly bratty and short with his attendants.

Piastri was already reknowned for his prowess in jousting and was automatically given the seat to represent the Crown Prince. When he appeared mounted on a blood bay charger that gleamed almost golden and black in the hot sun (MCL colors kinda??) Lando has A Moment when Piastri tips his visor open and addresses him formally and those intense brown eyes behind the cold armor make him look so much older. Lando causes a stir when he descends from his seat and gives Piastri his favor in the form of a ribbon from one of his full sleeves. They have one of Those Looks between each other before Piastri turns to take his place. He bests every one of his opponents and isn't unseated once.

Then the Dutch King Max Emilian appears and strangely shuns any pageantry associated with a knight's entry, let alone a king's. His Lady sits in his place flanked by both her own and the King's powerful families and court. Lando finds himself suddenly flooded with fear because what would happen if Oscar lost? What would happen if Oscar won? When had he become 'Oscah' and not just Piastri?

The collision unseats both King Max Emilian and Oscar and they draw swords. The fight is precise and clinical and breathtaking. Perhaps it was because of having more to lose or perhaps it was the press of the Crown Prince's lips against the silk ribbon he gave as tribute but Oscar suddenly anticipates a step too far ahead for the young King and a unified gasp is heard when Max Emilian's body hits the dirt. It's instinct that has Oscar's sword held at the King's throat. But when Max Emilian throws his visor back his bloodied mouth is stretched in a wide toothy grin. He barks out a series of high cackles and ceremonially begs mercy. Oscar breathes out in a rush and claps his armored hand around the King's and helps him to his feet. Max Emilian flicks Oscar's visor open for him and lifts his hand declaring Oscar's well-earned victory. Lando forgets himself and leaps up yelling and cheering as his court smiles ruefully over at the stiff, formal "celebrations" coming from the stands opposite.

Holy god I've written way more than I meant to but let's have it finish off with Lando whispering to gain access to the tent where Oscar is undressing and cleaning his wounds. Perhaps his armor has been removed down to the hips the way driver's drop their race suits down after a race. Oscar startles when he sees Lando alone with him and rushes to kneel to him. Maybe Lando puts his hand under Oscar's chin and tells him to rise up and oh maybe seeing Oscar sweaty and dirtied with a cut to one cheek and a few bruises on his body makes him forget himself. Maybe he surges up and kisses Oscar and maybe Oscar is shocked but also feels exactly the same way and kisses him right back. Then probably Oscar decides to make his boldest move yet and says that if Lando doesn't want him then he'll quietly go away - but if Lando does want him then Oscar would welcome the title King Consort, would be proud of it in fact to be in service a king like Lando one day.

Then Lando either passes out because he's been in blue ball hell since Carlos and years worth of arousal hit him all at once or maybe he just whimpers a little and starts wondering how fast a royal wedding can get planned so he can Get That Dick ASAP.

Fin.

[hotsingledragon]

HIHI I AM IN LOVE WITH UR WRITINF OMG. especially the most recent request AHHH!! was enthralled when I saw reqs were open!

can u do something with a REALLY jealous miles where he just fucks reader silly or he’s frustrated and takes his anger out on her iykwim? also could u put in an aftercare scene if that’s not to much to ask for, i ADORE how you portray miles as a big softie for his lover and i want more fluff with him

hi, omg, this is SO overdue. i got carried away! hope you enjoy <3

jealous/frustrated miles quaritch

recom miles quaritch x recom fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: smut, rough piv sex, exhibitionism if you squint?, biting, tiniest mention of blood, spanking??

Deja Blue celebrates a successful mission in the recreation room. it’s relaxed, just a small gathering amongst the squad, though Miles Quaritch is rarely one to mingle. so he remains posted against the wall, drowning out the squad in front of him. he stares blankly, disinterested at the RDA screensaver on the television that phases through images of pandora’s landscapes and bridgehead city.

but his attention will stray when your twinkling laugh fills the room. miles will watch you in your playfully animated movements and that smile that rounds your cheeks. miles expression rarely leaves a scowl, but it softens in the slightest as he observes you from his post.

you’re just being friendly, it’s your first mission as a freshly recruited recombinant, and you want to celebrate. conversation comes so naturally for you- you’re smiling and laughing and so unaware of the perverted looks Fike, Brown and Wainfleet and are giving you. they’re sharing glances and snickering like children, each of their lame innuendos falling on deaf ears.

when the conversation shifts, miles’ ears perk as fike very loudly makes a crude pass at you. it doesn’t land- there’s an awkward silence for about three seconds before lyle and brown struggle to hold in chortles of laughter, and you can only frown in embarrassment.

now there’s an even angrier scowl cracking over miles features, and he glares at sean with wide eyes that are flooding with rage. if the colonel were a rational man, he would just cut the guy off with a sharp quip and dismiss the whole team for trials. but he’s not, he’s fucking pissed off.

so instead, Quaritch is pushing off the wall, quickly approaching in big strides until he spins fike in his chair. miles snatches the loose collar of his shirt and rears back in a punch that crashes into the left side of his face. there’s an audible crack of bone.

Fike yelps, turning everyone’s attention and the room erupts in shock. in an instant, it goes eerily silent as the team recognizes their colonel in an ill sodden mood.

Quaritch hauls fike closer, looking down on him with teeth bared. he’s absolutely livid, cropped ears pinned against his head, his tail high and thrashing behind him.

“i don’t wanna hear none of that shit comin’ out of your mouth ever fucking again, private.” quaritch hisses at the soldier before knocking him back. fike is dazed, cradling his broken nose as he flops into the rolling chair. miles turns, looking over the squad.

“every single one of you fucks needs t’find something better to do than running your god damn mouths. dismissed!” quaritch barks at the team, sure to make eye contact with the three offenders.

you move to file out out of the room with the others when the colonel catches your arm, completely halting your steps.

“not you, corporal.”

his grip on you is tight and unrelenting, pressing so firmly into your flesh that you think it might even bruise. your eyes flicker to meet his gaze, a furrow to your brow

miles is already looking down on you, harsh and fierce. he’s so visually striking up close, eyes glowing and features downturned a deep frown

you blink at him and lick your lips nervously. you recover quickly, nodding curtly with your eyes lowered. the colonel doesn’t let go even as the automatic doors quietly hiss shut.

the air is silent for all of three seconds before quaritch is roughly pushing your shoulders, forcing you to catch yourself against the large table. he’s on you in a heartbeat, pinning you flatly on its surface. his long limbs capture you easily, and you hiss in frustration. the nerve of him! you thrash under his steady hold, grabbing and kicking at him.

“excuse me! what the fuck?! you-“

you’re cut off as his palm pushes against your mouth.

“y’better watch that tone, missy.” quaritch warns you.

your protests are mumbled as you push at his shoulders and chest, you even lick his palm to get him off you. the colonel doesn’t budge

“y’really wanna do this right now?” his voice raises, eyes piercing into you.

his expression sends a clear message. you take a steadying breath through your nose, silent but glaring.

“that’s what i thought, now shut up an’ listen. flirting with the squad ain’t part of the deal, you understand?” forefinger pointing in your face

“flirting!” you try to mumble behind his hand, squirming in disbelief because you would never flirt with those guys. gross.

Quaritch shakes his head in doubt. “don’t act like you weren’t. y’know you did wrong, n’ now you’ll face the consequence.” the colonel says lowly, his hungry gaze floating from your heaving chest to the frustrated wrinkle between your brows. his eyes flick between yours, capturing the shift from agitation to mild curiosity. he finds the smallest, yet brightest fleck of desire in your amber eyes, too.

miles is replacing his palm with his slick tongue shoving into your mouth. he takes your wrists, single-handedly pinning them above your head and slotting his body against yours. he dominates the kiss, mouth sliding roughly over your own. he even nips at your bottom lip, puncturing the soft flesh. he groans at the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue.

you’re both spread out, bodies almost too big for the table you lay on. miles grinds into you purposefully, half hard and working his dick right over your center. it’s torturous with the layers of fabric between you, and you push your hips up to meet his own, kissing him harder.

miles growls, then he’s rucking your tank top over your chest. he groans in approval when exposing your breasts. quaritch will bite and suck on the soft mounds, marking you. his teeth will sink into your flesh, indenting your skin. the sting of it is followed by his rough tongue licking flatly over the punctures. it’s a stark contrast to his fingers tickling over your ribs. you huff out a breath of air, a small sound you cannot hold in any longer.

then quaritch pulls away abruptly, standing above you.

“don’t move. that’s a fuckin’ order, squeak.” he commands in his deep american drawl.

you can only look up at him with hooded eyes. “yes, sir” you hum. you let your body arch teasingly, pushing your chest out into the chill air and wiggling your hips cutely.

your belly swims with the perceived praise of his chuckles, the sound purring and warm. he’s even grinning, his hands falling to his hips as he takes in every bit of you splayed out for him. his eyes linger over your face, enjoying how flustered you look already with blushing cheeks and eyes swimming with lust. his gaze travels to your chest, your nipples peaked after his sensual assault. then he’s following the curve of your hips, and he’s awfully offended by the rough fabric of those tiny little shorts you wear all the damn time.

his fingers hook into the waistband, pushing to reveal thin lace covering your cunt, adorned with a cute little bow under your navel.

“well, look at you, corporal. who are you wearin’ these for, huh? private fike? prager?” he asks, somewhat teasing you, tracing under the hem before letting the elastic snap against your hip. he won’t admit it, but there is a part of miles that genuinely wants to know. he bites his lip.

you fluster and shake your head vigorously, pouting at him. “no sir… i-i just like how they look, do you like them?” you wonder, a mix of embarrassment and want making you blush to your chest.

quaritch bunches the delicate lace at your hip, and you gasp as he rips it from your body. it stings, chafing the soft skin between your thighs. he smirks as your tail wraps around your calf, a new habit of yours when anxious.

he stands to his full height, heavy footsteps echoing in the large recreation room. you’re suddenly reminded where you are, where the walls are mostly glass, and the chances of someone passing by are 100 fucking percent. you panic a little, eyes darting to the sliding doors then searching for quaritch.

“colonel? um, could we make sure the shutters are active?” you hope.

your eyes follow him even if he doesn’t spare you a glance, his own eyes trained past the glass. the colonel’s heavy footsteps halt when standing directly behind you, and you’re forced to tilt your head back and watch him upside down.

he’s looking down at you, cradling your jaw. “you’ll be alright, hon’. now open your mouth,” he taps your cheek twice.

you’re nervous now, a little hesitant as you move your jaw, sticking your tongue out flatly.

“atta girl” miles rumbles, lightly slapping your cheek. his nimble fingers fall to work on his belt. the metal clanks loudly and you breathe in anticipation, your gaze drawn towards the straining bulge just inches in front of you.

quaritch makes quick work of it, humming as the zipper passes over his hard length.

his cock nearly hits you in the face, the way it bobs and stands in front of you. it’s thicker than any dick you’ve ever witnessed, longer too. it’s swollen to a pretty shade of indigo, a healthy pink at his tip. he’s beading with precum, and you watch as it gathers and trails alongside the vein gracing the underside of his cock. your mouth goes dry, and you swallow thickly.

“keep that mouth open, girl.”

you obey, stretching your jaw even wider as quaritch guides his leaking tip to your mouth. he’s soft with it at first, guiding his tip into your mouth and you hum at the salty taste of him. you kiss the tip sweetly, then begin leaving your wet tongue over his shaft.

the colonel hums. “you’re good, darlin’, take some more.” and you nearly gag as his length touches the back of your throat. you recover and find your rhythm, taking more as you bob your head.

eventually miles will be fucking your throat, grasping at your breasts as if they give him leverage to thrust into you.

“fuckn slut, can’t get enough of my dick down your throat, huh?” he growls, sending a series of quick slaps over your tits.

but you’re liking this too much, so he gets mean. he’ll shove inside your mouth, unmoving and letting your throat lurch tightly around his cock.

then miles will begin to touch you. you whine around his length when he pinches your nipples, calloused fingers rolling over the sensitive buds. he smacks the plump flesh of your breasts, and his fingers lightly trail to your soft center, touching your folds lightly before landing a quick slap on your pussy. it makes you jolt, your hips twitch and that earns you another slap.

“i gave you an order, corporal. quit fucking moving.”

and miles just keeps fucking your face. the the feeling’s too much, you’re gagging harshly and pushing your palm against his thigh to slow his thrusts, to no avail. he’s thoroughly using you, and you’re unable to do anything but simply take it. you remind yourself to breathe, trying to bob your throat at the same pace.

“there ya’ go, good girl,” quaritch moans, his syllables drawn out in pleasure. he lets two fingers push through your wet slit, running back and forth from your clit to your hole. you moan around him, and quaritch groans with satisfaction

“you’re so wet, it’s filthy. you gettin’ off on bein’ used like this? dirty girl,” quaritch smirks in a lustful haze. he’ll rub you quick and fast over your clit, making you squeal around his dick.

he’s hunched over you when he comes, letting a groan erupt from his chest. he pulls back to watch his seed slipping past your lips. you’re ruined, coughing and heaving for breath, eyes filled with tears and mouth so pretty and swollen.

“turn and face me,” quaritch would command you lowly. you pick yourself up,

your naked form agile, beautiful, flexible as you sit on the edge of the table. miles stands tall in front of you, eyes running wildly over your body and you watch him expectantly.

suddenly his hands are on you, holding your hips and lifting you off the table and your feet plop onto the cold ceramic floor. then quaritch is twirling your shoulders- pushing your chest against the table. it’s only moments before his dick slides into you, and it’s almost too much. there’s no going easy, just the sudden plunge of his dick into your body. it stretches you wide; a deep, burning ache inside of you. you pinch your eyes shut, waiting for the sensation to melt into pleasure.

“cmon, you can take more than that,” miles taunts. his palm presses right between your shoulder blades, pinning you as he delivers a series of long, deep thrusts. again, you remind yourself to breathe

“that’s it darlin’, loosen up for me. so fckn tight around my cock-“ he grits behind clenched teeth, picking up to a steady and delicious rhythm

his cock keeps pressing into that sensitive spot that nearly blinds you with pleasure. your eyes roll into your skull and you whine pathetically

“those virgins wouldn’t know what to do with you-“

miles’ abdomen presses against your back, leaning over you and biting the elongated cartilage of your ear. his hand takes your hip, angling you to take him even deeper and it makes you cry out, squirming under him.

“-wouldn’t know how to fuck this little pussy,” he mutters, his cheek presses to yours. you’re whimpering with every deep thrust, his cockhead ramming into your quivering insides.

miles tongue curls to catch the salty tears spilling over cheeks, caught in the feel of your tight spongy walls and the sweet sounds that fall from your parted lips

“workin’ me up, baby. gonna make me come inside that tight cunt-you want that, huh? want me to fill you up?” he growls into your ear, gripping your hips tighter.

you try your best to nod, cheek pressed into the table and hiding your whines behind your bitten lips.

“none of that, now. lemme hear you.”

then miles fingers are stuffing below your hips, smacking your clit before rubbing tight fast circles over the sensitive bundle.

your drawn like a bow with its arrow ready to fly, muscles quivering and aching for sweet release. your pussy is so tight around quaritch, locking around him to a point where he can no longer pull out of you, can only grind deeper into your slick heat.

“damn, kitty, you’re fuckin tight! you gonna come?” miles asks you mockingly, slowing his circles on your clit to match his lurid thrusts.

“yes sir!” you whine, broken moans clawing out of your chest

miles’ cheek presses to yours again. “tell me how good it is. tell me how good i’m fuckin’ you n’ how bad you wanna come.”

“s-so good! sir-i’m coming!” your sentence choppy with your cries of pleasure.

the bow inside of you snaps, and you scream with pleasure as you’re flooded with the hot sensation unfurling in your belly.

“that’s it, sugar, there ya’ go.” quaritch moans. your orgasm lasts so long, drawn out as miles keeps pushing into your cunt at a wild, fiery pace. he continues to rub across your clit, pressing harder when you attempt to squirm away

“i’m the only one allowed to have you like this, got it, squeak? no one else.” the colonel grinds behind his teeth, beginning to lose his rhythm as he fucks into you.

you can only cry out, your voice raw from the pleasure miles draws out of you. you’re shaking with overstimulation, letting these poor little whimpers fall from you plump mouth.

“shit! go on, honey. let everyone know who you belong to. you’re mine, now,” quaritch grits out. his grip on you is bruising, thrusts growing erratic as he chases the ache in his lower abdomen.

miles begins to let out his own breathy moans, rocking into you until he’s buried to the hilt. he grunts with a last few thrusts, and you whimper weakly at the feel of his cum spurting inside of you.

—

his body covers yours entirely, heavy as he comes down and settles his forehead between your shoulders. you slump against the table, hiccuping to catch your breath. quaritch is no better, breathing heavily against your back. you feel the tired ache through your body, and you’re grateful when miles pulls out of you. miles lifts himself, still holding your hips.

quaritch takes a moment to admire your form slumped against the table. your eyelashes are wet with tears, cheeks flushed and swollen mouth taking in stuttering hiccups of air. your hair is disheveled, bangs sticking to your skin and his eyes follow the braid that twists down your back. he follows the taper of your waist to your plump bum, and he can’t help but reach and squeeze at your flesh. he spreads you, watching his cum leak from your hole.

he notices your wobbly knees, smirking to himself. he finds your shorts, sliding them up your thighs and to your waist. he pulls your top to cover you properly, scoops you up in big arms and carries you towards the lounge

his hand splays across your back as he walks. “did good, kid, took it like a champ.” he settles into the cushions, pulling you across his lap. you tuck yourself into his chest.

“m’sorry if i was a bit rough on ya,”

there’s a beat of silence, until he finishes with “y’seemed to like it though,” he quirks, brows raising and letting out a dry chuckle that reveals his pink tongue and sharp canines.

you snort and roll your eyes playfully, hiding your face in his shoulder. he’s glad to see your reaction, he laughs and plants a kiss on your hair before resting his head on top of yours, cheek presses against your soft raven hair

you’re both silent for moment, your eyes flutter tiredly as miles’ fingertips run back and forth over your thigh.

“goddamn dickheads, let ‘em try sayin somethin’ stupid like that again. i won’t be so nice. fuckin’ morons,” quaritch grumbles, pouting.

notes: OH MY GOD. i’m so sorry, this is long overdue! ive been in a huge personal transition- job promotion, moving, all the things! and i wanted to do you justice with this request. i tend to characterize miles as a little softer than he actually is, and i hope i captured him a bit better this time around! hope you enjoy sweet sparklingenvy. always happy to see you in my inbox!

[hyuckie-angel]

treasure reaction; college boyfriend

in which they love their partner and their studies (sometimes)

a/n; a lil suggestive in jihoon, yoshi, asahi and doyoung’s parts

최현석 • choi hyunsuk

the making music at 1am boyfriend

the raw talent your partner hyunsuk possesses is no joke

the way music seems to come from his fingertips

magically into the software

renders you speechless sometimes

‘come look at what i made :D’

he’ll never say it but all of his lyric inspiration is you

he’s never failed a project and he knows its because he’s got you there to write about :’)

but anyway

despite adoring his creativity, sometimes he really just has no clue 

like there’s a road in his brain but its one way and the lines are fading

if you get what i mean

it’s really late

the world is silent

you are drifting off into dreams

when out of nowhere you hear a really loud Dm chord blasting through the stereo

‘hyunsukkkkkkkk’

‘yeah? :0′

he’s cute when he’s confused so you forgive him

when he has an early class you sometimes have to get out of bed and force him away from his desk

‘but im almost don-’

‘hyunsuk it is 4am go the fuck to sleep’

sometimes he whips out the guitar at 1am, strumming a few chords and humming along

this you could never say no to

‘i wrote this one for you the other day’

lying there listening to him quietly serenade you fills you with this warm comfortableness 

so you jump out of bed to grab his face 

planting a soft kiss onto his lips

you can feel his grin even with your eyes shut

its safe to say that sleeping doesn’t play a huge part in the relationship, and you could not care any less :)

박지훈 • park jihoon

the ‘if i finish my project will you finish me? ;)’ boyfriend

lord help your soul

jihoon may look like the sweetest, most innocent guy on campus

but oh boy is that incorrect

before you were even dating he was winking at you across the classroom

or running ahead of you to open doors

and despite his wide and elated smile when you finally accepted his advances

he is a fiend

he’s like your own personal devil on your shoulder

‘surely we skip this class’ wink wink wink

you quickly figured out that the best motivation for this man is

well

the intimate kind

the ‘if you finish this project in the next hour ill let you do whatever you want tonight’ kind

he has absolutely no complaints

it was a dream come true when he realised you would reciprocate

besides

both of you would much rather spend a night having fun

than reading coursework and hating life

of course he has his sweet moments

buys you flowers

brings you chocolate when you’re sad

agrees that making a pillow fort is very important rn

cue the next 3 hours of bickering and pillow related injuries

but his tendency to get distracted

makes itself known quite often

of course you use this to your advantage

walking into the room in a tiny little skirt and an almost see through top

you get more attention than you’ve ever dreamed of

and the sex 

you don’t wanna blow up his ego

but it’s just always really, really good

your professor has started to become suspicious

sometimes both of you do fantastic work

but sometimes both your projects look rushed  (¬_¬)

‘we just spent too much time studying for our other class professor i swear’

this boy will be the death of you 

金本芳典 • kanemoto yoshinori

the always late to class boyfriend

you love this boy to the grave

but you cannot count on all your fingers and toes the amount of times he has forgotten about his classes

never once has he done it on purpose

the man just gets so distracted by anything and everything

especially you

he is no thoughts head empty only yn

‘holy fucking fuck i have class rn’

you have his schedule written down in your phone

so when you tell him you’re going to the shops and he says he’s coming

you can tell him 

‘no yoshi you have literature in 5 minutes’

cue yoshi olympic sprinting out of the house

the amount of times he comes back from class with a paper that has been graded 

‘98%... late’

its basically his brand atp

you’re no better sometimes though

if you’re making out and in the back of your mind you know he probably has class soon

but you’d much rather be here

with his hands in you hair and your heavy breaths breaking the silence

you just say nothing

yoshi doesn't care if he’s late because you guys were having sex

in fact unsurprisingly

he quite enjoys it

 as do you lmao

‘yoshi you have class’

‘stfu do you wanna have sex or not jesus’

he’s also developed a sixth sense when around his professors

if he passes by one of them on campus

he immediately leaves your side

jumping behind a bush

as you get confronted by his literature professor asking why tf he missed half an hour of class again

‘just tell them i died’ 

‘no??’

he’s never going to change, but as the wisest men say

yolo

김준규 • kim junkyu

the studies until 5am then sleeps through the class boyfriend

if theres one thing about junkyu

its that sleep >>>>> anything else

(aside from you >> ofc)

he also has this unbelievable fear of failing

so to compensate he spends hours and hours studying

into the night

you wake up sometimes and there’s 4 redbull cans scattered across the desk

and a very unconscious junkyu drooling onto his workbook

you take a photo of him

you gently shake him and wake him enough to get himself to bed

you can always tell how hard he’s working to try and pass his classes with the best marks possible

and you admire him for it

but goddamn does he need to stop staying up so late

you remember the infamous night that he stayed up super late cramming

absolutely determined to pass his exam with the highest marks possible

and then proceeded to sleep through all his alarms

you received a very tearful phone call that morning

‘can you wake me up at 6:30?’

‘junkyu its 5am that is 1 and a half hours of sleep’

‘yea??’

he lives and breaths energy drinks

cue his hands shaking to the point where both of you are like

‘maybe we should go to a doctor’  (≖_≖ )

your favourite thing to do together is nap

because he is always sleep deprived

he turns into a cuddly gremlin when you lie down together

you want to get up and use the bathroom

too bad

wait until he wants to let go

its okay though because he’s so cute

sometimes when you’re napping he unconsciously kisses your forehead and cuddles closer to you

and you have to say nothing so you don’t wake him but also die inside from love and affection

although he is clumsy

and somewhat disorganised

he’s your clumsy and disorganised, and you love him more than anything <333333

윤재혁 • yoon jaehyuk

the ‘whats the answer???’ boyfriend

you met jaehyuk in a class the two of you shared

you could tell he was an absent minded guy

he was often staring towards the front of the lecture hall

looking directly through the teacher

and taking in precisely zero information

but because you were sat next to him

and you liked to think you were a decent person

you would give him a tap on the shoulder every time you thought he was missing something important

this seemed quite mundane to you

just a girl helping out a fellow classmate  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

but the butterflies that birthed in his stomach every time you leant over to help him out

made him feel crazy

so he asked you out

after getting over the initial surprise of this gorgeous man wanting to be your boyfriend

you began to notice all these little habits about him

his confused squint when he’s trying to figure something out

the way he clenches his jaw in understanding

his fiddly hands when he’s losing his attention span

and your personal favourite;

the way he leans over to ask you questions about the class

‘hey what did you get for number 1 coz i got 35 but its not even a maths question?’

he’s also so unintentionally funny

‘babe i lost 17 pens can i borrow one?’

once you snorted in amusement so loudly the teacher said bless you

which made jaehyuk loose his shit laughing

and now whenever you laugh at his expense he says bless you

so you slap him (gently)

he pokes his tongue out 

you pretend to get offended

he laughs and kisses you softly

you forgive him immediately

his attention span in class has definitely improved with you helping him

even the professor has noticed

but

he maaaay or may not be pretending to zone out sometimes

just so you’ll tap him on the shoulder and look at him with your pretty eyes and ask him if he needs anything :’)

浜田朝光 • hamada asahi

the quiet sober; crazy drunk boyfriend

when you first met your boyfriend asahi

his quiet and calm temperament had caught your attention

you’d seen him in the library, head down, brown hair falling in his eyes

and you’d realised that you needed this man

he was beautiful

so you went and talked to him

his responses were

well

limited

‘hi’

‘yeah’

‘haha’

but little did you know his heart had swelled and his palms had become clammy at the sight of you

you and your face that he thought was maybe the most gorgeous he’d ever seen

so two months later you were dating

he’d told you he didn’t drink much

he didn’t care for it

but when you were invited to his best friend jaehyuks birthday party, he told you he’d probably indulge a little

“a little” he said

by the time you got into the uber to go to the party, his cheeks were flushed 

by the time you got there, he was smiling wonkily at you like an idiot

about half an hour later and you’d totally lost him

you weren’t worried, it was a safe environment

but you were curious

so out you went to look for him

and there he was on the roof

ON THE ROOF?!?!

his hangover the next morning was his punishment for doing stupid shit you’d told him

now every time you drink

you wait for an incident ™

sometimes he just gets super horny

‘can we leave plzzz babe ;))’

and sometimes he manages things you don’t understand

‘okey we needa go coz that guys wantz to fite me idk why’

but all times, he is hungover for three days and one of his professors thinks he has an alcohol problem 

‘i’m never drinking again’ :(

김도영 • kim doyoung

the hits on you like you’re not dating boyfriend

just like jihoon

doyoung has this innocent exterior, devilish interior 

kinda vibe

he also has absolutely no shame ever

and so has this habit of constantly putting you in awkward situations 

where people think he’s harassing you

but in reality he’s just being a dickhead

‘hey bby girl you wanna come back to my place tonight?’ ;)

before you had told your best friend that you and doyoung were dating

he had come over, slung an arm around your shoulders and gone

‘hey sexy’

you had turned bright red

and your friend had looked so confused you thought she might have an aneurism

doyoung lives in a share house just off campus with three roommates; jaehyuk, jeongwoo and junkyu

the first few times you’d come over, doyoung turned off the weirdness

opting for just following you around

like a lost puppy

but when he realised his roommates didn’t pay you guys any attention

suddenly he’s backing you into walls

grabbing you from behind in the kitchen

staring at your chest almost all the time

and just being a general menace to society 

you have a really lovely and not embarrassing at all memory 

of a beautiful spring day

5:30pm

you and two friends were walking out of class

giggling at everything under the sun

when a voice echoes through the air

a voice belonging to your beloved boyfriend who’s standing 20 feet away from you with a shit eating grin on his face

‘yo yn... is that a mirror in your pocket coz i can see myself in your pants!!!!’ ;)) 

your physics professor was standing right behind him 

you’ve never seen someone go from confident to embarrassed that quickly

but even though he is your personal humiliation creator

you still let him hit

what can you say, he’s dumb but he’s hot lmaooo

渡辺春虎 • watanabe haruto

the ‘i fcking hate this class’ boyfriend

you were the year above haruto

you in your third year of studies, him in his second

you had dreamt your whole life of becoming a marine biologist

dedicating countess hours to study and achieving perfect scores

it wasn’t a secret that you loved all of your classes

now

one evening you were asked by your professor to attend a lecture and maybe help out anyone in need

and that’s when you first saw him

you thought he was cute immediately, his platinum blonde hair framing his face nicely and his glasses sliding down his nose a little

but you weren’t one for pursuing attraction

so you spent the lecture walking around and giving tips to people that asked

until haruto raised his hand as you walked by

secretly happy, you sat down next to him and asked what he needed

it was basically love at first sight for both of you

you spent the rest of the lecture sitting with him

he found you so endearing 

and you thought he was hilarious

all was going so well

until he opened his mouth and went 

‘yeah i fucking hate this class lol’

you awkwardly smiled

‘this is my favourite class’

his grin dropped dramatically

‘ah- ah i’m sorry idk why i said that’

you weren’t offended in the slightest

but his flustered reaction made you giggle

you began dating only weeks later :)

haruto’s favourite thing was to annoy the shit out of you talking about how much he dislikes the classes you love

you could be sitting in the food court

having a loving conversation

and out of nowhere he goes

‘i’m so glad im not in that class rn’

you deadpan stare at him 

if he sees you studying for the class

‘damn i was gonna stay over but not anymore i guess fuck’

so dramatic i stg

despite wanting to punch him in the jaw sometimes

he makes you laugh more than you had in years

and so you can move past the difference in interests for him

박정우 • park jeongwoo

the second-hand embarrassment boyfriend

like

confidently raises his hand and says the total wrong answer

kinda guy

trips over and sprains his ankle in the food court

kinda guy

not that you’d have it any other way

but damn sometimes you have to restrain from cringing visibly

he’s like a walking sit-com

and you are the audience

your personal favourite pass-time is forcing him to listen to his own actions retold from your perspective

as you wheeze with laughter and he sits there like  (－_－) 

he secretly loves it though

if his misfortune is enough to make you happy

he thinks you might be slightly weird

but your happiness is all that matters to him

so he can deal with it

‘im glad me falling on my ass was this amusing to you thanks heaps babe’

one day you were sitting in a class you shared 

it was business and it was boring but it was both of your favourite class because you were in <3 love <3

and jeongwoo had a question

the professor was walking around the classroom so he was waiting

and as they walked over, jeongwoo opened his mouth

and you watched practically in slow motion as he said

‘hey mum i have a question’

your eyes widened

his eyes widened

the professors eyes widened 

doyoungs eyes widened

you held back on laughing until he’d gotten the answer he needed

and then you and doyoung let loose 

‘hey mum’

‘mummy i mean mummy i mean-’

‘excuse me professor birthgiver’

‘OKAY I GET IT SHUT THE FUCK UP PLEASE’

if he ever gets insecure about anything

you look him dead in the eyes and tell him that he may be an idiot, but he’s your idiot, and thats all that matters :)

소정환 • so junghwan

the spends all his money on you boyfriend

from the beginning

junghwan had been spoiling you silly 

buying you lunches

hearing you say you liked something and immediately purchasing it

you hadn’t thought anything of it at first

assuming it was just a friendly gesture

but the smirks from all your friends told you a different story

after the two of you began dating, his bank account began suffering

you had told him countless times

he didn’t need to be doing all this

but to him, it was his way of showing you he cared

‘you like this? i buy for u bby girl’

‘junghwan no-’

he also wasn’t afraid of showing people how much he spoiled you

read: ‘one time he walked into your class whilst the teacher was talking and everybody looked at him confused and he walked to you and gave you a block of chocolate and then walked straight back out but blew you a kiss just to make sure you were sufficiently embarrassed’

you adore him for it though

no matter how much he tries to humiliate you

you also aren’t allowed to try and pay him back

if he catches you tryna pay for something

or transferring money

its on sight

‘i am a grown man and i am insulted by this behaviour’

sometimes you run to the food court to buy both of you lunch before he gets there

so that he can’t lecture you on spending money

sometimes you think he’s a bit dumb though

you once broke a pencil you’d been using in your art class

and in response junghwan had bought you 83 more

‘why are there 7 parcels at my door rn’

‘damn that shits crazy i have no idea’

despite this

you know his only intention is to be there for you and help you out

so you always thank him with a huge hug 

and only one or two insults about him being a walking wallet

[muffinsin]

Hey just wanted to ask if you will be open to do a story on the siblings.

I love the fluffy stories you do for them and I would be very grateful if you could do other one. I don't mind what at all maybe other people have a good idea.

Maybe one about Bela this time about needing comfort even though she tries to hide it. I love wondering what they would do if one of them where sick as well as what her mother would do so I guess that's one idea.

Bela being ill and trying to hide it to do jobs her sisters need help with or her mother. She would get yelled out by Cassandra as Daniel snuggles wishing her to get well as Cassandra joins in all tough saying she's only doing it to keep an eye on her as she mother was the one to help heal Bela.

Now that would be funny and fluffy I guess I had an idea over all.

Btw how is Bela monster fucking going? I can't wait.

Awh, this is adorable🙌 regarding the Bela monster fucking- I don’t think there’s any requests in the inbox for that or any interest I’m aware of :)

There’s so many sibling bonding asks in my inbox, it’s adorable y’all

Let’s get into it ;)!

Masterlists

Bela Dimitrescu does not get sick

Or; she tries to convince everyone, including herself, of this at least

While being understanding when her family falls sick, she is much different when it comes to herself

Bela is very much the type to ignore it, grit her teeth and keep going

And sometimes, it works. It pushes her to the limit and utterly exhausts her, yet, sometimes, the illness and dizziness does fade even without careful rest and medication

Sometimes, that is, mind you

It seems, now is not one of those times

She is no longer merely sniffing here and there and struggling to breathe in and out through her nose

No, the fever is weakening her, no matter how hard she fights it. It seems, fighting and pushing forwards only makes it worse

Her vision blurry, her limbs heavy and aching, she forces herself to keep going and refuses to let anybody know of her condition

Even as she grows too weak and feverish to even swarm alongside her younger sisters

She- doesn’t want to disappoint. She wants, no, needs to keep working

One morning it seems particularly bad, when she falls back onto the hard mattress the moment she sits up, her head aching and the all too familiar dizziness causing the room to spin for a few moments

Again, she merely grits her teeth, hard and frustrated enough for a fang to chip slightly. She doesn’t dare flinch and whimper at the sharp, cold pain it causes

As she forces her thighs off the bed and her feet to move across the room at last, the dizziness seems to only grow worse. Closets and cabinets spin, her window a mere blurry, bright light

She changes out of her clothing as the bathtub fills next, her mind and body overly aware of the thin layer of sweat covering her; no doubt another affect of the fever tormenting her

With difficulty, she manages to scrub herself clean, her frustration evident in the force she applies, so that the sponge leaves soapy, bloody scratches along her pristine skin

A second, a single, short moment, she allows herself to throw her head back and howl in pain and frustration, her tears thick and her lips pulled to an angry snarl

Within another moment, she forces her weak body to cease shaking

Breakfast is- a difficult affair

Attempting to calm her family’s worried stares, she eats the meat and drinks the bloodied wine presented to her

And yet, every bite makes her stomach turn and scratches against every inch of her sore throat like sandpaper

She gulps down the wine all too eagerly, chasing the soothing feeling of liquid calming and wetting her dry and sore throat

When asked whether she is alright by Cassandra, she flat out lies through her teeth. She smiles, even as her face muscles ache, and confirms

Work is- nearly overwhelming her

Her eyes are heavy, her body covered in sweat yet again despite her bath only two hours prior

She’s panting and whimpering quietly to herself in her office, her shaky fingers gripping the pen tightly, her wet hair clinging to her warm face

She considers opening the window, even as she knows the icy cold air outside means death

But…only a crack..she shakes her head at her own thought. No, she is too smart to open a window in winter

Yet, her body feels as if on fire. Her dress feels wet and heavy, restraining, even

She wants nothing but to take it off already

How much longer is it? She checks the clock at her wall repeatedly. Six hours. Six hours. Five hours and fifty-seven minutes. Time just won’t pass quickly, it seems, no matter how hard she wants it to

In half an hour, no work has gotten done

She feels sick and dizzy, yet the mere thought of standing up to head to the bathroom makes her stomach curl unpleasantly

She doesn’t even notice the small chirps her flies send out, broken and quiet, yet- not unheard

Daniela, the fastest of the three, is the first to appear in the study

Bela watches through heavy, lidded eyes as the blurry figure of her sister steps in front of her. When she cups her cheeks with cold, bare hands, to examine her sister’s face, Bela nearly howls happily

She presses her face forwards blindly, as though chasing the cool feeling calming her overly warm skin

Yet, when the door bangs open and Cassandra comes in, too, the feverish haze draws back and Bela immediately pulls back her head, fast enough for the room to be spinning and for her to sway slightly

Again, she feels hands on her skin; stronger, larger ones. Gloved, and slightly forceful as they’re set on her hip and shoulder to steady her

Even through her lidded, tired eyes, she sees her younger sisters scowling at her. They know, something is clearly wrong, and they are not about to leave until it is handled

Cassandra is the first to speak up. With Alcina out at a Lord meeting halfway across the village, it is up to her to handle her sickly-looking older sister, after all

Still, she winces when she asks what’s wrong and the harshness in her tone has the blonde flinch

She figures, she could attempt a gentler approach

At first, she is met with denial. “Everything is okay”, “Don’t worry”, “I’m fine”

Neither of the younger sisters believes a word. Not even Bela stumbles as soon as Cassandra’s grip eases slightly and her eyes keep darting to the window longingly

She begins to lose her patience, her grip tightening on her sister the more wobbly the woman’s legs seem to get. Cassandra doesn’t miss how tightly she grips the table, as though aware she’d fall without its support

She snarls, her eyes rolling when Daniela waves her hand in front of her and beckons her out of the way

Bela watches confused as she is led from the table, her arm slung around Cassandra while Daniela holds onto her hand tightly, guiding- or rather; pulling- her along

Alas, she is in no state to deny them even if she wanted to. And really- she doesn’t

Not when her legs feel weak and her middle sister is what keeps her from falling, the messy buzzing of her flies somewhat comforting to her, and not when Daniela’s cold hand feels so relieving in her own, warm one. Is she sweating? She can’t tell anymore, and her vision and mind is too hazy to take notice of Cassandra’s scrunched up nose

At last, she notices where she has been led- Daniela’s room. Sickly sweet in its scent, yet familiar and comforting

Her eyes struggle to stay open, and only do they widen when she is dropped to the bed suddenly

Soft whines and broken chirps pass her lips as the cool hand is pressed to her forehead. She doesn’t mind Daniela’s gasp at the warmth she feels there

“Poor thing! You’re burning up!”

The words nearly bring a frustrated sob out of her. Perhaps, she no longer needs to pretend it’s all okay. After all, they already found her out

She eagerly lifts her arms and turns as the sweat-soaked dress is removed and coos in relief at the feel of cool, soft sheets against her scratched, sweaty skin

“We should call Mother”

She whines, her throat too achy and sore to allow any words to form

It seems, her sisters get the hint, so that instead of swarming for the phone in Alcina’s office, Daniela crawls into the bed as well

At first, a whine is pulled from Bela when she feels comforting arms wrap around her. Then, a sigh of relief passes her lips. Her body is too heavy, her mind too hazy. She merely pushes herself into her sister’s touch, sighing happily when cool hands return to her cheeks and forehead to cool the warm skin found there

For a moment, all feels calm. She doesn’t notice Cassandra leaving for the bathroom, until she jumps and coos happily when wet rags are pressed against her neck and back

“How could you keep working like this?!”, Cassandra fumes

She sports an angry, concerned scowl. A harsh contrast to the care and gentleness applied as she drags and dabs the rag at Bela’s sweaty, scratched skin

“You know we are supposed to rest when we get sick! Mother’s told you a million times!”, she adds with a low grumble

Daniela giggles for a moment, a low “as if you were any different” muttered under her breath. Cassandra chooses not to pick a fight- this time

Bela feels as the fever catches up on her at last- yet- the lukewarm rag and cool hands on her help the heat seemingly burning under her skin

She isn’t sure what urges her to do it, yet, as she feels the cloth gently dab at her warm skin and soothing it, she turns suddenly, her body inching forth and her heavy arms wrapping around Cassandra

Her other arm pulls Daniela close, the woman’s giggle almost too loud in her ears

“T-Thank you” she whispers hoarsely

With her face tucked in her sister’s neck, she doesn’t notice the surprised look and the worried smile she wears

She does, however, feel the acknowledgment and reassurance of the swarm as both her sisters pat her gently

“It’ll be okay, Bela”, both of them promise

And even with the fever and the heavy worry for her duties evident in her head, she accepts, and she believes it

[alatusgf]

18 and 46 with xiao? Only if it’s okay with you!! <3

☆ – Adore

prompts: "don't cum yet" (18) , "you feel so good" (46)

featuring; sub!xiao x gn!adeptus!reader

info; reader is not traveler, reader is an adeptus, everything that takes place is consensual, reader is an adult, reader gets penetrated by xiao

cws; smut, guided masturbation, edging, penetration. reader calls xiao alatus.

author's note; there's not enough sub xiao content out there where he's the one penetrating the reader i have to take matters in my own hands. also if u wanted dom xiao instead lmk !! ill rewrite it

link to original event

xiao doesn't think there's anyone out there who knows him quite as well as you. everyone he had once known and fought alongside have all long perished, all except you. his respect for you runs extremely deep, you're the only person he would ever allow himself to be vulnerable around, so much so that sometimes he likes to sleep next to you, knowing you'll keep watch in case something goes wrong.

when you walked in late inside your shared bedroom in wangshuu inn you find xiao on the bed - facing the window, back turned towards you - you assume he was asleep. you were the one who was on patrol tonight after all, he must be tired. but as you slowly walk in, quietly so as to not wake him up, you hear soft panting coming from his direction. you immediately realise what he is doing, he must be really out of it, to not even recognise your presence in the room.

you clear your throat to alert him of your presence, and he jumps up and whips around immediately, and oh he is truly a sight to behold. his hand wrapped around his length, cock drooling, his other hand clasped tightly over his mouth to not make too much noise, shirt pulled up to reveal his pert nipples, face absolutely flushed red. he's so pretty. it makes you want to devour him.

xiao stills and you send him a teasing look, making his face flush even deeper, eyes wide as saucers as you made your way towards him, avoiding his accesories haphazardly thrown on the floor. xiao opens his mouth, trying to think of what to say, extremely flustered at being caught. "i- i'm - y/n-"

"shh." you settle on the bed in front of him, toeing off your shoes, placing a hand on his shoulder. "i'm sorry for interrupting you my dove. you can keep going. don't stop on my account." xiao keens at your words, lowering his head to your shoulder, and starts touching himself again.

slowly, he starts getting into it again. he doesn't need to cover his mouth anymore, and having you watch him arouses him a lot, all of a sudden he can't seem to keep the noises in. he starts getting louder and louder, you can tell he's close. you place your hand over his moving hand, making him stop touching his length. xiao whines at this, looking up at you with glassy eyes, body shaking.

at that, you press your lips against his in a kiss and xiao moans in your mouth, hips jumping up. you rub his thigh in a comforting manner. hes shaking. poor baby, he probably wants to cum really bad. xiao breaks the kiss off, breathing heavily, struggling to talk.

"please." he whines, "'m so close y/n." you almost feel a little bad. you coo at him, "just a little more baby, don't cum yet." xiao whines, but obeys, struggling to hold his orgasm back. your hand wraps around his cock, moving at a pace faster than he had been going at. xiao's back arches, his hips push forward info your hand, fucking into your fist. so cute.

you keep up at your brutal pace, letting hin get closer and closer to his high again before you cut his orgasm off by squeezing the base of his cock. xiao is panting and drooling, he looks so adorable, you can't wait any longer.

you start taking your clothes off, tossing them aside, motioning for xiao to do the same. xiao's hands are shaking but he obeys, taking off his clothes and looks up at you expectantly. you lean back against the pillows, and coo at him.

"alatus." his cock twitches at hearing you call his name out. "let's make love." in an instant, xiao's mouth is on yours, straddling you, hips rocking into yours. slowly he slips in, you were so warm and wet, he could never get enough how you feel wrapped around him.

he starts moving, slowly at first but quickly picking up the pace, chasing his high. he starts babbling nonsense, most of what you could make of it was somewhat along the lines of "you feel so good" and "please" and your name over and over. he was hitting inside you so well, you could feel the pressure of your oncoming orgasm in your belly.

you pull his face down to kiss again and he moans in your mouth again, its wet and messy but he pushes back into the kiss with even more fervour than you. he's so cute. the rhythm he's pumping you inside with stutters, you can tell he's close by how much he's twitching inside you. he's waiting for you to tell him he's allowed to cum, how cute. you break off the kiss to mouth along his jaw to his ear where you whisper him to come for you.

and cum he does, it's a little violent, still trying to pump inside of you as you cum alongwith him. xiao whines, exhausted, as he pulls out and rolls off of you, and next to you on the bed, peering at you with his gorgeous golden eyes.

you share a look, silently telling each other that you love the other. and you truly do. you love xiao so very much, your heart swells with affection. you kiss his forehead, then his cheeks and finally his mouth, which he returns. its a sweet and loving kiss, relatively chaste compared to how you two had been kissing before. he pulls you closer to him, sighing and resting his forehead against your collarbone, closing his eyes.

[nerves-nebula]

Hey. Yknow fusions?

This idea can be taken in multiple ways, but there's 2 most popular ways.

Characters go in sync and fuse, becoming a mesh of both, and usually break apart upon major internal disagreements. Steven Universe style.

Or characters are forced together in a body that is basically hc one person and half another.

But either way I'm curious as to what would occur in your iteration for either situation.

i have a character who's a forced fusion and he has. so many emotional issues about it. like he loves the people he's made of but they kind of hate each other, my mans is Mentally Ill <3

ALSO I think I've said this about a million times but YOU SHOULD JUST KNOW THAT I'm so fucking obsessed with body sharing and fusions (consensual or forced) and the idea of HAVING to share a life with someone. It's one of my favorite concepts to explore.

SO WITH THAT SAID!!! apologies it took so long to answer this, I just wanted to give it the time it deserved <<33

Donnie + Leo: most confused motherfucker ever. hates himself, loves himself, furiously frustrated with their state of being. he wants to be taken care of and NEEDS to be adored. everything she makes is brilliant one moment and terrible the next. he is NOT having a good time and she will make it EVERYONE'S problem. (he/they/she)

Donnie + Raph: What if Raph was more irritable and suicidal? what if debilitating guilt kept him going even FURTHER past his boundaries?? this motherfucker can hold so much guilt. hobbies include sleeping and neurotically upgrading the home security system. has a sort of surveillance state situation going on in the lair and will deny it whenever asked. (faggot gender)

Donnie + Mikey: A sweet, excitable, sensitive, artistic boy :) strong morals and a penchant for making friends. very passionate about mixing art and science (they're better together!!) likely the most functional of all the fusions. still hella mentally ill, but in a sort of "I'm going to go quietly insane in my room and secretly fear everyone thinks im awful" kind of way. (he/they)

Mikey + Leo: Most confident motherfucker ever. always righteously angry about something. no impulse control, too violent for her own good. gets herself hurt a lot. Will attack at the slightest sign of provocation. (any pronouns)

Mikey + Raph: overprotective bundle of energy. somehow always hyper and tired at the same time. really into home decor & repair (mixes artistic desire to create and express oneself, with the pragmatism of fixing up the home). probably loves food more than anyone in the world. (any pronouns)

Raph + Leo: Biggest Big Brother Ever. 100% annoying, 100% loving. Will lie to her little brothers for fun (that bug is poisonous. yeah, and if you touch it you'll die in three days. Oh, you already touched it?? :( better write your will!) he carries the world on his shoulders and cracks jokes about it. (he/she)

anyway here's doodles of my favorite fusion ideas.

[beanghostprincess]

Zeff x Yasopp would mirror sanuso perfectly.

Zeff would be patient caring and attentive like Usopp and Yasopp is just adoring and protective but also very anxious and overwhelmed. Due to his ill experience with the same sex (and internalize homophobia and comphet) like sanji.

Yasopp with false confidence would start flirting with him but would immediately start to panic because he didn't expect for zeff to flirt back and would quietly retreat trying to hide his blush and embarrassment. It didn't help that his crew teased him about and would try to egg on the conversation even further. Zeff finds it endearing he doesn't push him to do anything and let him go at his own pace.

Eventually Yasopp starts showing up the baratie by himself almost always nervous. Zeff always gives him a discount and sometimes free dessert he lets him stay after the restaurant closes. The chefs are watching their boss rizz up this man just by smiling and listening to him talk about nothing important, Patiently waiting for him to confess already.

He eventually does and they start dating. It's nothing serious yasopp is still nervous about it. He gets shaky and his hands get sweaty when it's held.

Their kids find out eventually because shanks told Luffy by accident and Luffy being Luffy dropped it in random conversation. Sanji is mortified and confronts his dad and fights via snail. Usopp doesn't really care tho he does wish you found out by his own dad and not sanji ranting about it

Stop. You're making me think about this ship. We just upgraded Sanuso and made it Sanuso 2.0 older versions. No, but really. It's really sweet. They look cute together. Yasopp deserves to be with somebody after his wife passed, and Zeff seems like an awesome husband. Look at him. I love how the dynamic is basically the same as Sanuso's but, like, different, y'know? It's really cute. Also, I just know Zeff would fucking love telling Sanji because he knows the kid is going to have a heart attack and it's going to be really really funny. Yasopp on the other hand would be more nervous about it because he isn't sure if Usopp will be okay with all of that, so they keep it a secret. And that's when Shanks goes and tells Luffy because he can't keep secrets with Luffy around.

Sanji panics. Dies. Cries. Screams. Tells Luffy to turn the ship around and go to the Baratie because he needs to break his dad's other leg. Usopp is just,, Really happy for his dad. Even if it's nothing serious. He likes seeing him giving love another chance. Sanji hates it. Usopp is okay with it. It's a bit chaotic. Sanji really needs a moment to calm down. I think Usopp would tell him that it's nothing serious and it's fine that their dads are happy and doing whatever they want out there. Sanji kind of agrees but,,, "It's weird, though, isn't it?" / "Is it? I dunno. Didn't think about that. I think our parents fucking-" / "Don't call it that, oh God" / "I think our parents seeing each other isn't weird. Or bad. They're pirates living their own adventures, just like us. Let them enjoy themselves". And that kinda works for now to calm him down.

[petersbaby]

HI YOU LEGALLY HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS SONG WHILE YOU READ THIS FIC ITS A LAW I DECLARED AND IF YOU DONT ILL CATCH YOU

I adore you - Gareth Emerson x reader

Warnings: alcohol/drinking, some angst, smut, loss of virginity so a bit of classic and obligatory awkwardness. Gareth is aged up to 18

Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip

Just so I can adore you

I want the entire street out of town

Just so I can be alone with you

And I'll go when you're ready

My head's gettin' heavy

Pressed against your arm

I adore you

♡

-

“No, dude, I don’t wanna go. Besides, we were supposed to practice tonight.”

“We practice plenty, Gareth, we’re fucking great.” Eddie says, as if it’s the most obvious ‘duh’ statement ever said.

Jeff walks back into the room where they were hanging out.

“What do you say, practice or party?” Eddie asks the boy, who looks confused.

“Uh, I think we should just practice. You know, like we usually do.” He stammers, looking between Gareth and Eddie who both wanted him to side with them.

“Yeah? I heard Y/N is gonna be there.” Eddie offers, and Gareth’s heart drops into his stomach.

“And her friend too? The hot one?”

“Yep.” He nods.

“Party.” Jeff decides immediately.

“God damn it, fine, but only to get out of being forced to babysit while my parents go on some gross date.”

-

“You know me, right? Like, do you know me at all?” You ask, laying on your bed while your best friend applies lipgloss in your mirror.

“I do, and you’re lovely, but you’ve gotta come out of your shell.”

It had been almost a year since you got here, and you had a small group of friends. She was definitely the best, even though she sometimes pushed your boundaries. Your best friend is a popular girl, one who sort of took you under her wing from the beginning.

“This,” you gesture broadly at your bedroom, “is my shell. And I like it in here.”

“What if I told you I got the host to invite the freaks?” She smiles convincingly, wiggling her eyebrows.

Gareth. That meant Gareth.

“W-wha- why would that change anything?”

“You can mingle with them, they’re pretty awkward too, and I know about your crush on the drummer kid.”

“Okay so first, I’m not awkward, you’re insulting me. Second….”

You trail off.

“Thinking about him? The fluffy hair and the red shirt with the arms cut off?”

“Fuck.” You sigh. “Fine.”

“There we go. I did you a favor. Let’s find you something to wear and get a little makeup on you.” She turns to you and starts picturing your look. She goes to look through your closet, which feels weirdly personal for some reason.

You end up in a dress you’ve never worn that she promises is sexy but feels all too exposing, with mascara applied and vanilla gloss on your lips. Then, it’s a waiting game, counting down til it’s time to go.

-

“Ooh, I see some of my good friends. I’m gonna run over to see them. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re just abandoning me? You can’t just leave me.” You whisper-shout.

“You’ll be okay. Drink, it’ll help you have fun.”

You sigh and go to the kitchen, getting an alcoholic beverage that tasted like kool-aid and battery acid. It was strong, whatever it is, getting a buzz going rather quickly and you soon felt a little less intimidated by this whole thing. You take a moment to kind of just sit back, and watch.

-

“Oh, shit, they’re already here. That’s her car.” Jeff comments excitedly, pointing at your friend’s shiny blue sedan.

Gareth shuts his car door, putting his keys in his pocket and joining his two friends to walk into the party together. He decided to drive himself because he knew he’d probably end up wanting to leave early, Eddie and Jeff rode in Eddie’s van.

“Oh, god.” Gareth groans quietly. His stomach is full of dancing butterflies and his chest is all of a sudden pounding. He definitely should’ve smoked a joint before this, or something. Anything.

They get to the door, the long dark haired boy clutches the handle of a beat-up old tin lunch box.

“I’m gonna start finding customers, you two do whatever but nothing weird enough to get us kicked out of here.” Eddie pats both of them on the shoulder and disappears.

“We should drink, right?” Jeff asks uncomfortably. There were a lot of people.

“Right. Definitely.”

They both head to where a group of people were congregated, some of them giving dirty looks and disapproving frowns. The crowd dispersed, and the stared at two options: shitty cans of beer, or a giant tub of mystery liquid that everyone is dumping there solo cups in. That can’t be sanitary.

Gareth gives him a look when he reaches for a cup.

“What? It’s better than beer.” He defends.

“Hard pass.” Gareth shouts, grabbing a beer and popping the tab. He takes his first sip and nearly chokes on it when he sees you just then. Across the kitchen, sipping on your drink, you looked beautiful.

Little black dress but with converse instead of flats or heels, hair straightened and flowing, lips glistening while you try not to bite them. You lock eyes with Gareth, you both looked a little overwhelmed and scared so you decide to just come up to him. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Y/N, hi,” he blurted out, and you smiled. Already tipsy.

“Hi. Are you having fun?” You ask, knowing the answer.

“Well, I-“

“Hey Y/N, where’s your friend, the hot one?” Jeff asks loudly, and Gareth punches him hard in the shoulder.

“I’m sorry for him, he doesn’t usually drink.” Gareth explains. “Stop interrupting people and being an asshat.” He says the second part to his friend.

“Fine, I’m just gonna go find Eddie. He’s not such a buzzkill.”

He walks off, not seeing Gareth roll his eyes.

“Do you wanna… hang out?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“I came with my friend but she left me.” You gesture to the space around you.

“I know how that feels.” He takes a big swig of his beer.

“Do you smoke? I’m dyin’ to get some fresh air.”

“Uh, only socially.” He lies. He doesn’t smoke cigarettes, but you don’t really know that so it sounds convincing.

“Well let’s go be social outside.” You giggle, pulling his wrist.

You both end up at an outdoor patio table, you sit down and take out two cigarettes and your lighter from your bag. You light yours, but he doesn’t, placing it behind his ear instead.

“I’ll save it for later.” He explains.

While he watches you, he sees that you’re slightly shivering and shifting around awkwardly.

“You don’t usually dress like that. It’s pretty, but it’s not you.” He comments, looking at your dress.

He sees me, he looks at me enough to know how I dress.

You remain calm, casual, smooth, despite your thoughts.

“You are very right. It was not my outfit of choice, trust me.” You laugh. His gaze lingers for a moment too long and becomes a stare, eyes practically boring a hole in your body. You take the last hit and toss your cigarette butt onto the pavement, standing up.

“Back inside?” You ask, and he nods, cheeks tinged pink.

You finally finish the last bit of drink that was in your cup, swallowing it quickly due to the taste.

“You want me to take that? I’m out too.” He offers.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay.” He nods and walks to the kitchen with his head down.

You scan the room for your friend, or really, any of your friends. All you see is a bunch of vaguely familiar faces who’ve passed you in the hall.

“I’m back,” Gareth blurts out, suddenly right beside you.

“Jesus, Gare, you scared me.” You laugh, clutching your chest.

The nickname you just applied to him pulls at his heartstrings and makes him almost feel like passing out or perhaps… waking up? This could all just be a good dream. He was spending time with the girl he liked most, the girl he adored and never even dared to compare himself to. You were on another level, out of his league. Beyond.

He has another beer in his hand now, but doesn’t drink it, just to have something to hold.

“Do you wanna dance?” You ask him, grabbing his wrist again. He hesitates.

“I don’t really- I don’t uh…”

“C’mon. Sure you do.”

You pull him to the “dance floor,” which was just a living room. The room was dark with flashing colorful lights and strobes and music filled the atmosphere.

Still tipsy, you start to dance to the music, carefree and getting lost in the moment. He just stands, stunned, watching you. His mouth is ever so slightly parted open as he gazes at you and appreciates the way your body moves. After a few songs, you look to see him still there, same spot you left him in, still.

“Are you okay?” You ask, concerned.

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay. I just don’t dance, like I said.”

“You will with me. Next slow song, you’re dancing with me.” You giggle drunkly. You notice it, too, and decide to set the cup down. Good decision, probably.

“Please.” You add.

A heart meltingly sweet smile spread across his face that he couldn’t help.

“Maybe.”

-

“Okay, so this is like, so simple. Your hands go on my hips, mine go on your shoulders. Yeah?”

“Y-yeah.” He nervously brings his hands to your waist and gently moves them downwards to come to rest at your hips. You draped your arms over his shoulders and just swayed together, in the music.

Everything else was a blur, everything else didn’t even exist, it was just you two. His eyes have a glimmer in them that you can’t really place.

It was want, desire, possibly love. He couldn’t say that out loud, though, couldn’t fully face that fact. For some reason, the time feels right, so you lean in and press your soft lips against his.

He gasps, taking in a sharp breath without meaning to, and you stop. Before you could ask if something was wrong, he reconnected your lips together. Yours tasted of cherry and cigarettes and vanilla, and he filed that away to remember forever.

You were perfect. Your hands move from his shoulders to his face, placing a hand on each cheek and pulling him impossibly closer.

After a while, you begin to remember that you are not actually the only people in the room and the kiss was getting pretty deep.

“You wanna find an empty room?” You bite your lip.

“S-sure.”

You head up the stairs and he follows behind you. Once you find a bedroom rather quickly, you shut yourselves in and lock the door. He presses you up against it, tongue returning back to your mouth, teeth clashing.

It’s so vulgar and so intense that you subconsciously start to moan into the kiss, lightly. The situation and the sounds you were making were gonna drive him insane, he was so turned on it almost hurt but he just wanted to kiss you for as long as possible in case this never happens again.

“C’mon, the door is locked.” You remind him, moving to the bed. You plop down, laying flat on the mattress, and you spread open your legs when he approaches. You wanted it now, you needed it now. Straight to the point, bold.

“Jesus Christ.”

He looks away, like he’s seeing something he’s not allowed to be looking at, but returns his gaze to you once he shakes the awe off. He comes to slot himself between your legs, dress riding up to your hips and exposing your green lace panties completely to him.

You squirm as he stares, silently begging him to do something. You try to pull him by the shirt on top of you, but he doesn’t quite let you.

“Wait.”

“What?” You ask, clueless and a little frustrated.

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

You just blink, tears stinging in your eyes.

“Why not?” You ask, voice breaking. You really fucking liked him and he was standing in front of you, rejecting you.

“No no, I didn’t mean it like that. I want to. It’s just… the situation.”

You tilt your head to the side like a confused puppy.

“You’re drunk, are you not?”

“Well yeah, a little..”

“It’s just- this would be my first…. time. If it’s gonna happen, it has to be different, better. Not drunk, not impulsive, not in a stranger’s bedroom.”

“Your first…” you trail off, an “oh” expression forming once you put the pieces together.

“It’s okay. We can just.. we can just go back to what we were doing.” You pull your dress back down, standing up, and a sniffle escapes.

“Did you really want to? Me? If I hurt your feelings, I didn’t-“

“It’s okay, Gare. I guess not.”

You leave the room quickly, embarrassed. You felt guilty for getting upset that he didn’t want to have sex with you. That was shitty, but you just couldn’t help but take it to heart a little. You weren’t special enough.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Gareth says to himself. He feels he just fucked up a once in a lifetime chance. If he left it like this, you were likely to never speak again.

You go back out to the table by yourself, pulling out and lighting a cigarette between your lips. Once you finished it, you were gonna go in and try to find your friend to tell her you wanted to leave.

In case she says no, that she doesn’t want to leave just yet, you try to think of someone else who could come pick you up and bring you home.

“Hey.” The sounds of footsteps come from behind you and the fluffy haired boy sat down near you.

You didn’t respond, just looked at him and took a drag of your cigarette.

“If you want me to go away, I will, I just wanted to try and explain.”

You just nod, slowly.

“I’m really putting myself out there by saying this and may regret saying it but I like you a lot. Since the day I saw you, the day you showed up at our school. You were wearing those same converses.” You look down at your feet and back up at him.

“And this has been the best night of my life, I got to fucking kiss you and that’s far more than I ever expected. It was amazing and I loved every second, I just don’t want you to have sex with me because you’re drunk and you think you like me tonight. I just didn’t want it to mean nothing to you.”

Silence fills the air besides crickets and the muffled music.

“I like you too, dumbass. Yes, since that day too.”

“Oh. Wait, are you being serious?”

“Yes, I am. Why would I lie?”

“I don’t know, I just- you’re beautiful and I’m me and it doesn’t make sense.”

“So what’s the point? What are you saying?” You shrug, emotionally numb and becoming closed off from him.

“I’m saying… god, don’t make me say it out loud.”

“You wanna fuck me after all?” You guess.

He blushes.

“I do. I really do, but I want you to be sober. Can you give it a couple hours?”

You nod, starting to understand. You sort of made a big deal out of nothing.

“A couple of hours at my house, maybe? I honestly don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Uh, sure. You’ll just have to give me directions on the way.” You smile at each other and stand up, walking to his car. He doesn’t think about his friends or how he’s leaving them behind, that doesn’t matter.

You hop into the passengers seat and he mentally curses himself for not opening the door for you. You happily tell him all the right turns to make to get to your house.

-

You pull up to the house, and he turns the car off. He follows you as you fumble for your house key and unlock the door, then leading him to your bedroom.

“It’s uh, it’s messy. My friend made me try a bunch of different outfits before this.” You gesture to the clothing piles in the floor as you set your stuff down onto your bed.

“If you think this is messy, I definitely shouldn’t let you see MY room.” He laughs. “Nobody’s here. Isn’t it scary to be all alone at night?”

“Eh. Sometimes. I’m used to it, though. Do you want something to eat?”

“Yeah, sure.” He agrees.

You both head to your kitchen and you find some pizza in the fridge. You show it to him as if to say ‘this good?’ And he shrugs, so you heat it up.

“You can go sit down, I’ll bring you yours.”

He walks over to the couch, sitting, really relishing in the silence.

When you come to join him, you notice it more than you usually would, so you suggest turning on the tv for some sound. It was kind of spooky, now that you think about it. Too quiet.

You watch a movie and eat your pizza, making comments and laughing at all the super corny and cheesy parts. During the last half of the movie, you had your head leaned on his shoulder and he gently played with your hair.

With food in your stomach, you felt back to normal again, albeit just a little sleepy.

“So… my bed is okay?” You say once the credits finish rolling.

“Wha- how are you still fucked up?” He looks flabbergasted.

“I’m not. I’m completely sober, and yes, I still want you.” You say, seriously.

He’s surprised for some reason, expecting your feelings for him to dissipate magically once you were back to your normal self.

“Shit, yes, your bed is good.” He agrees, quickly.

You giggle and run down the hall to your room and he dumbly follows, closing your door for no reason other than to feel private even though there was nobody else around.

You take his face in your hands, pulling him in to kiss you. You run your tongue along his lips, silently asking for permission and being granted it.

It gets heavy quickly, just like before, and you both move closer and closer to your bed until he practically pushes you down on to it, climbing on top of you.

You spread your legs open again for him, and this time he doesn’t panic. He presses against your core with his jean-clad boner and it makes you whimper needily.

“Fuck,” he says into your mouth. “You sound so pretty.”

You push the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, trying to help him get you undressed. He reaches behind you and unzips it slowly and then pushes it down off your body. You’re left in your bra and panties, vulnerable under his gaze as he marvels at your beauty.

“I-I can’t tell if you’re staring at me in a good or a bad way,” you chuckle lightly, waiting for words from him.

“So good. It’s so good. I just- holy shit.”

“You can touch me, you know, if you want to.”

He touches your stomach first, canvassing the warm skin of your hips and abdomen, snaking around to your waist. You let him explore, but when he slows down, you take his hands in yours and guide them to your breasts, squeezing his hand beneath yours.

He gets enough confidence to continue on his own, and you let your hands fall away as he takes generous handfuls and squeezes, groping you just right. Your lower half tries to seek out any feeling, rubbing your pantied cunt up against his harder than ever cock through his jeans.

His breathing is heavy, hard. Intense. He was feeling so many things that he didn’t know what he’d even say if he were to speak right now.

“Take them off, we can make each other feel so good. Please.” You beg him, looking up into his eyes. His eyes lock with yours and he melts, submitting to whatever you could possibly ask of him.

His hands leave your body to take the clothes off his own. He gets his jeans off, and he has a huge tent in his boxers, which you gaze upon subtly.

“Shirt, too, or…?” He asks, unconfidently.

“Whatever you’re comfortable taking off.”

“Okay.” He takes his layers off, leaving on the plain white wife beater he was wearing beneath his shirt and jacket.

“So handsome.” You compliment, genuinely. This is the most you’d ever seen of him and he was so, so lovely.

“Stop it.” He blushes, not knowing what to say to that, trying to brush it off.

You reach between your legs to touch yourself while you looked at him, shamelessly staring.

“God, that needy?” He asks jokingly. His attempt at cracking a joke did not land in this situation, and you answered him seriously.

“Mhm. Need your cock, need it now.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He groans at your vulgar words towards him.

“Please. Whenever you’re ready, please.” You whine, still rubbing circles over your clit.

“Can I turn the light off?” He asks suddenly. It felt a little too intense, he felt self conscious to an extent in that moment.

“Mhm. Whatever you want. I’ll just turn the lamp on instead.”

He gets up to flick the light switch and you reach to your bedside table to pull the string on your lamp, turning it on and providing a nice sun glow.

“Better?” You ask, and he nods.

His hands return to your tits and you take it upon yourself to remove your bra, the barrier. Your nipples pebbled when the cool air hit them and he gently runs his fingers over them, pinching ever so slightly.

He seems to find a fascination with your tits, and you encourage him to explore them with his mouth as well. He kisses your collarbones, all over your chest, between your tits, the top of your tits, then finally takes a nipple into his mouth.

“Ah, fuck, Gare. Your mouth is so fucking good.”

This only encouraged him to lick and such harder, almost forgetting to give attention to the other breast as well.

This wasn’t all about you, you reminded yourself. You just whine beneath him while he has his fun, and you know that your panties are beyond soaking at this point.

You hook your fingers in them and wiggle them off, because they don’t really serve any purpose. You buck your hips up against his, trying to grind against him wherever you can. He eventually noticed your desperation but still seemed a bit nervous about this next part.

Regardless, he pushes his boxers down and off, climbing on top of you. He jumps straight to pressing the tip of his leaking pink cock right against your entrance.

“I’m so wet for you, it’s all for you. Such a good fucking boy.” You moan.

He groans in response, that last part ignited something deep inside him that he decided he would unpack later.

“Can I put it in? You ready?”

“Yes, please.”

“Shit, alright.”

He applies more pressure, tip slipping inside first.

“Oh, god. Oh, shit.”

More. He pushes in even further, sinking into you with no resistance.

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

He was overwhelmed, but in the best possible way. A way he never could’ve imagined feeling. You didn’t get a good look at his cock, but it was big. You knew that. You stretched more with each inch you took, pussy swallowing and sucking him in.

“So big, Gare, feels so good. Mmh, feels so fucking good.”

His head falls forward to rest on your shoulder, and he keeps up his movements, bottoming out and groaning out loudly once he does.

You moan even a little louder than him, knowing nobody’s home gives you the opportunity to do that. Your noises and your words of praise were killing him, he wanted to be good for you forever. A good boy.

He fucks you still with his head buried into where your neck and shoulder meet before finally bringing it back up so you could see his face. His hair was crazier than ever and a couple of strands of hair stick to his forehead with sweat.

He feels it coming, rapidly approaching, but doesn’t want to underwhelm you. You notice his thrusts soon become faulty and haphazard as he tried to restrain himself, but you granted him relief. You didn’t want him to struggle.

“You can let go, sweet boy. Want you to cum.”

In a few more thrusts, he does, and you feel it painting your walls and his cock pulsing against them.

“Fuck.” He couldn’t hold it any longer,

He keeps lazily fucking into you until he’s completely milked, finally pulling out and laying down beside you.

Once he finally catches his breath, he realizes something.

“I didn’t make you- you were supposed to-“ he turns to look at you, worried. You had already climbed under the sheets, covering your body with them and laying down.

“Don’t worry about me right now. It was amazing, no matter if I finished or not. Was it good for you?”

“There’s no way you’re seriously asking me that.” He says incredulously.

“Just wanted to make sure,” you shrugged, “you know what you can do for me though?”

“What?”

“Cuddle.”

You open your arms and reach them out, giving grabby hands. He smiled and climbed beneath the covers with you, taking your naked body in his arms and holding it, close and tight.

After a while, he breaks the silence, overthinking.

“Are you just trying to make me feel better? I mean, was it actually any good? I can take the truth, and I wanna know how I did.”

You giggle.

“Do you want me to be blunt, Gare?”

“Definitely. I think so, at least.”

“You were very good, and at times, I wondered if you really hadn’t done anything before.” You start, “So good that it made me question your supposed lack of experience. Are you happy with that?”

He nods, blushing, and he hates that he’s blushing.

“But I still didn’t…”

“You’re so sweet. If you want to make it even that badly, I can teach you some things. Not now, though, but someday.”

“There’ll be a someday?” He asked, a little child-like excitement in his voice.

“Yes, there will be, if you want there to be.” You smile. “Special enough?”

“Absolutely. God, I’m so lucky.”

[anika-ann]

Love on the Brain - part 7

Ch7: To Have and to Hold

Type: MCU x Criminal Minds crossover series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 10150 😇

Summary:

The joined team made an important progress in the case, but still has a long way to go. Now it’s your turn. After all, your life depends on it.

Series masterlist

Warnings: series includes criminal behaviour such as stalking or kidnapping; graphic violence, gun violence; (mentions of) death; allusions to dub-con; possible PTSD and flashbacks; sexual innuendos and foul language. Loads of fluff and teasing.

I’m covering my bases here to make sure - probably sounds worse than it is. If you’re interested in specific warnings for individual chapters, let me know.

A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics​; long chapter (if you wish to split, best is when the POV changes); mind the WARNINGS ❗❗❗

“The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost.

He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.”

― Nikita Gill

The conference room was but a cacophony of voices and yet to Steve, they all sounded dull; nothing was as loud as the guilt of letting you walk off screaming inside his skull.

They took you. You, you, you.

He had been a second from kissing you, a few inches, a few words from having you in his grasp, and now his own stupidity yanked you from his arms violently, laughing in his face for thinking for even a moment that he deserved happiness.

For thinking that he deserved you.

God, he was pathetic. The unhinged stalker seemed to know better than himself: he was not worthy.

How could he be when he failed to do the most basic thing a partner should do? To keep you safe?

Go back, you had mouthed at him, part deadly serious, part playful, an adorable pep in your step as if kissing his cheek and the near encounter of lips gave you the same high it had given to him, and Jesus fucking Christ the image of you leaving was seared into his brain forever now.

That might have been the last time he had seen you alive; the thought made him violently ill, having him clench his jaw, nails digging into his palms with the effort not to throw up when his stomach heaved.

“Accessing the security footage from the café and the street camera.” A male voice, familiar one.

“You’ve seen anything, Natasha?” Another male voice, unfairly calm, authoritative.

“We were too late. Not even a vehicle speeding away, no signs of a struggle. Jones had to go quietly for some reason.” A female voice, familiar too, a little mechanical.

This last voice wasn’t making any sense. Not if it was still talking about you – who the fuck was some Jones, you were Sparkles, his Sparkles, a firecracker of a woman – because you wouldn’t have gone quietly.

“If there were more than one assailant, she could have succumbed in order to protect civilians,” another female voice suggested, tense.

“I don’t think so. We already agreed cooperation with another unsub is unlikely. Only 0,7% percent within stalker cases.” A male voice, opposing with conviction.

Steve wanted to believe that voice; but then again, you were exceptional. So why wouldn’t your stalker? Yours, not his, because Steve was a fucking idiot-

“I got the security footage.”

Steve hungrily gasped for air, feeling as if the words alone had just pulled him out of deep waters. His gaze refocused, laser sharp as it zeroed on the floating image Tony had started projecting, his body vibrating with adrenalin.

If he saw any indication that anyone on the footage was about to hurt you, he was going to rip them limb from limb from limb-

You had a small smile on your face still, seemingly lost in pleasant thoughts as you entered and joined the line, and Steve’s rapidly beating heart clenched painfully. He had been the reason for that smile.

A woman entered a few second behind you, somewhat familiar and absurdly normal in her business suit, balancing files and a phone on top of them, her gaze focused on the screen instead on the route. It was like watching a tiny trainwreck happen – she bumped into you, the load of files almost scattering.

Steve’s thoughts did the exact opposite; they finally gathered, something in his brain clicking.

“That’s Agent Bernes. Cindy Bernes,” he blurted out as the name finally lit up in his mind, quicker than Tony’s facial recognition system.

Tony’s fingers swiftly moved across the keyboard as the scene continued to unfold; you jumped a bit at the unexpected touch.

“Jones’ startled, but she instantly relaxes. She laughs at herself even. They seem… friendly,” Emily observed, her last statement equal part a question and a statement.

Steve’s mind raced, hundred miles a minute, trying to remember all the interactions between you and Bernes – he was going to murder her slowly, painfully – realizing he had witnessed frustratingly little.

“They’re… acquaintances. Bernes’ a good agent, trustworthy-- or she was until now. Tony-?”

“Pulling her file now and running a facial around all the damn New York City already,” Tony hummed, frowning at his screen. He sounded angry too; good. He wouldn’t stop Steve when he’d break the woman’s damn neck then. “Locating her phone.”

“Jones’s getting drowsy. She’s been drugged, syringe probably hidden by the stack of files,” Reid noted, bringing Steve’s attention back to the footage.

He was right; you had a look of your drunk self, blinking rapidly, reaching out blindly as you tried to find your balance. Bernes was right there, oh so helpful, supporting you and leading you away from the queue, smiling reassuringly at the oblivious on-lookers.

Steve wanted to scream at them – to do something, because it was so obvious that something was wrong. Bernes was no friend, she was clearly hurting you, how could they not see it when it was right in front of their eyes-

But he wasn’t exactly one to talk, was he?

The thought made him clench his fists, the fact the broken skin on his knuckles was already healing only irritating him more.

“Her face changed, she just realized it.”

“And she realized she cannot fight Bernes either,” Reid added, exchanging a sombre look with Emily. “Whatever she was injected with was affecting her fast. She wouldn’t risk anyone’s safety if she was incapacitated. That’s the reason why she went quietly.”

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, battling the warm feeling of affection curling in his chest; of course you wouldn’t endanger anyone. You were too good. But fuck, did he wish you had been bad at that moment and had tried to fight Bernes anyway.  

Maybe you’d spook her. Maybe you’d beat her.

Maybe you wouldn’t be in her clutches now.

“Uhm, guys?” Tony called out nervously, sounding confused. “I got eyes on Bernes. She’s in the building. She’s in training room 4.”

Steve bolted towards the door, a single crimson-coloured thought in his mind.

He was gonna slam that woman against a wall and beat your location out of her, no matter the witnesses or his reputation. He didn’t give a single damn – he was a man on a mission. He was going to find you. He was going to bring you to safety and never let you off his sight ever again, but first he was going to squeeze Bernes’ neck tight-

A palm appeared an inch in front of him, flat against his chest, almost touching.

Anger flared in Steve; it seemed Aaron Hotchner was interested in losing his hand. Steve wasn’t above that. If your former boss – who should be supporting his actions – thought he could stop him, he had another thing coming.

“Wait. She’s got different clothes, different hairstyle. How far is the café?” he questioned, having Steve waver for a brief second.

A second too long; Tony spoke up, completely flabbergasted.

“Not far. But there’s no way she dropped a car with Jones somewhere, changed and rushed back to work unless she’s got superspeed we don’t know about…?”

“So it can’t be her… unless she altered the footage of the café or the security feed in the Tower somehow?” Emily questioned, no less confused than any of them. “How is that- how is that even possible?”

“Fuck.”

The realization hit Steve like a ton of bricks, horror seizing him, all colour draining from his face.

“She stole a Mimicry.”

The billionaire mimicked his curse, running a hand down his face.

Defeated, Steve shuffled his feet further back into the room, fingers gripping at his hair.

It was the only thing that made sense – the only thing that would explain a lot.

Steve was terribly confident he was right; but if he was, they were fucked. You were, but that was not an option for him. However, if the unsub stole a mimicry, finding her just turned virtually impossible.

“I thought those were a myth,” Reid said, genuinely shocked for the first time Steve had met him, his expression almost comical.

Except Steve wasn’t laughing.

“What’s a mimicry?” Hotch asked, unsettled.

“It’s a piece of technology our agents use to protect their identity when undercover. A photostatic veil which allows you to borrow anyone’s face. It has a joint piece for voice modification too,” Natasha’s voice sounded from the speaker. “That’s not good. We’ll look around for any evidence, but I don’t fancy our chances much. Call you back.”

The call disconnected, the pit in Steve’s stomach doubling in size. He agreed with Nat – and he hated that.

“How would she even get her hands on one of these devices?” Emily asked, clearly still processing the information that such device even existed.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, taking a deep breath, a headache building as he desperately tried to figure out how to find you when they didn’t even have the face or the name of the unsub, nor a locator on you.

And his frustration was rising by the minute, because he had no clue.

“The numbers are under strict control, because a theft of even one piece can have---” He gulped, gesturing towards the floating image of actual Agent Bernes as to prove a point. “-far-reaching consequences.”

“It must have been reported as damaged during a mission and wasn’t properly destroyed. That’s the only way I can think of,” Tony said, the clicking of his fingers against the keyboard turning mad.

Which was good; they were all fucking mad. But that didn’t really help them, did it?

“She must have been planning this for quite a while. This is even more meticulous than we thought,” Reid pondered, only having Steve grind his teeth.

“How does that help us? If she’s been using it, she could have posed as twenty different people in last week and we wouldn’t even know.”

“Explains why you could never identify one person who was taking photos of you,” Emily muttered, dryly and gently at once.

Steve scoffed. “Yeah, she could have walked past every single each of us and no one would be the wiser.”

“But wouldn’t you be able to tell from different mannerism? Different gait? Speech patterns?” Reid questioned, earning at least two sets of murderous gazes – from Steve and from Tony.

“Not all of us are profilers, kid, we just see familiar faces… It’s probably how she got into the storage room too; you don’t bat an eye if you’re walking out and Black Widow is about to enter, lifting her card to the scanner, no matter how fake. You just let her in.”

Reid seemed to consider it, grimacing. “…right.”

Meanwhile, Steve thought hard, praying he wasn’t the one to help the unsub by letting her walk by.

“Alright, I’m pulling the footage from the street cams, but the question is, how do we find someone who can wear a face of pretty much anyone? How do we find the unsub if we don’t know who she is? Are we back to square one?”

Agent Hotchner shook his head at the question, clearly working hard to stay rational; and he was ultimately better at it than Steve. Steve felt like tearing his hair out as if it could help him think clearer and come up with some miraculous solution.

You relied on him and he must not fail you. He needed to bring you home, put his arms around you and never let you go. And break a few bones in the process, but that would be more for him.

“No, we’re not. You narrowed the list according to the initial criteria. The minor offences you turned a blind eye to when recruiting still apply, the time frame remains the same, we can still exclude the agents who have been out of the country on missions or have rock solid alibi… the list we had is still relevant,” Hotch pointed out.

“That’s nice and all, but that’s still over thirty agents. I’ll run facial for all of them, but… that’s a lot.”

A wavering breath shook Steve’s ribcage at Tony’s words.

Too many agents to choose from. Too much time wasted. By the time they’d gather their wits and figured out the unsub’s identity, you could be out of the country. Worse, you could be-- you couldn’t be.

Ominous silence, only interrupted the quiet clicks of Tony’s keyboard, wrapped the room in a heavy blanket of frustration and despair.

How would they find the woman who took you with so many agents to eliminate? The profile was informative, sure – or had been, before falling apart completely – but it did little to eliminate candidates now when it was you, not Steve, who was the centre of-

Fuck.

Fucking hell.

Steve’s head snapped to Tony so quickly he nearly gave himself a whiplash.

“Show me the abstracts of their files, now,” he blurted out, clearly startling the billionaire with the urgency and sudden determination behind his words.

“Huh? I’ll show it to everyone, that’s the-“

“No, you don’t un-” Steve stopped midsentence, swiftly turning to Spencer for confirmation of his hopes, meeting with his curious gaze. “The questions you asked me before. They still apply too, don’t they?”

“Well, yes, but the focus shifts-“

“-to Sparkles, yeah, I got that,” Steve finished, almost annoyed at how dumfounded everyone seemed, how they didn’t see that they had so much more than the basic criteria Hotch mentioned.

They had Steve.

And yes, Steve turned out to be a crappy handler and he had failed to protect you, but maybe he could begin his redemption right this moment. Maybe he could save you in time.

“Show me the files, Tony. Something could be familiar to me. We’re friends. When Sparkles talks, I listen, she could have noticed something.”

Realization apparently finally dawned to Tony, because he nodded to himself repeatedly as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

“And you watch.”

Steve’s head whipped to Emily this time, shocked into silence at her accusing words. Yes, he did watch, but was she really calling him out now? Did she—was she comparing him to the stalker?!

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” she assured him quickly, apologetic, talking with her hands more than her voice. “You could have seen who took interest in her without being a stalker yourself. Ironically enough, you might have noticed more than Jones has herself.”

Steve gulped, accepting her argument, even if his stomach twisted when the sudden weight of responsibility – responsibility for your life – fell on his chest, making it hard to breathe. So far, he hadn’t done so well with it.

And failing was not an option.

“I hope I did. Because otherwise I fucked it all up.”

Emily’s expression softened, lips parting as she gave a subtle shake of a head, compassion written in her eyes.

“Cap, come on, you couldn’t have known-“

“But I should have known better, Tony. I should have said something – a damn mailbox, I should have-“ Steve clenched his jaw to stop more self-pity from spilling from his mouth. They didn’t have time for this, no matter the guilt biting into his conscience. “It doesn’t matter now.”

The moment Tony opened the files for him, a holographic image Steve could move to his liking, his eyes began skimming over the CVs, images, mission history; his mind raced, frantically trying to gather the scraps of information, memories of you doing something as simple as telling him about your day over Thai take-out, shoulders brushing as you sat by his side, hands reaching for the box at the same time, your apologetic smile, a chuckle even, sweet and teasing...

Come on, Rogers. Focus.

This should be easy: his mind had been enhanced by the serum and he had always been good at having his mind full of you.

But now, his brain threw the questions Reid had asked right back at him, having them circle in his skull as the reports screamed at him to read between the lines, creating blurry images and alternatives he had to sort through. There were so damn many, and the seconds were ticking off, and every second you were alone with the stalker, your fierce and brave and capable self, but vulnerable was a second too much.

It was only when he caught a glimpse of a face and a name, hearing your voice laced with compassion and indignation when something in his mind finally clicked, allowing him to breathe in again.

“Bonnie Stiles.”

It was the only name that made sense, the only name that fit the pattern.

Without question, the file of the agent was opened, details spilling into space, complete documentation unsealed for all of them to see.

The way Tony kept his sass and teasing for himself for once only steeled Steve’s conviction. He had to be right. He had to.

“Why do you think it’s her?” Hotch inquired, voice levelled but intrigued.

“Back in April, she got drunk. A lot. From what I heard, some embarrassing photos were taken and spread through social media. The other agents had a great laugh over it.”

“Stressor?” Emily suggested, sounding a little doubtful, exchanging a look with her colleagues.

“Could be. Public humiliation. Could lead to isolation…” Hotch pondered, having Steve shook his head.  

“It wasn’t just that. Add cheating. Sp-- Jones told me Stiles was cheated on by her girlfriend and that was the reason she got so drunk,” Steve explained, hopes rising as Reid nodded to himself, writing it down.

“So they are good friends?” he asked.

“Barely. But while many agents were laughing, Sparkles… she wasn’t. Stiles was off her game in a training two days later and her sparring partner was having a great time kicking her ass, laughing. Sparkles offered a hand,” Steve said, fond of your kindness – and cursing it at once. “Literally and figuratively. She tried her best not to treat her differently. The rest slowly followed example.”

“That’s the turning point,” Emily agreed instantly, only having Reid and Hotch nod in firm agreement. “Stiles was cheated on and humiliated and Jones swept in like her personal hero. Celebrity stalking and protectiveness. Even the act of service – taking pictures of you with other women – it makes sense now. She doesn’t want Jones to end up like her.”

“Okay, great, Jarvis is already working on pinging her phone,” Tony announced, voice laced with slight annoyance. “Someone please rewatch the street cams footage for me would you, I see nothing.”

Before anyone could follow up on the request, a ringtone cut the air, Steve’s breath hitching despite all logic – the chances it was you were almost zero, he knew that and yet….

Hotch pulled out his phone, immediately accepting the call.

“Garcia, you’re on speaker.”

“Hello to my favourite crimefighters! And to the Avengers! Just wanted to let you know we’re done with the case in Ohio and I know that you have your own local tech genius and I don’t mean to imply in the slightest that he’s not able to do his job, I’m sure he’s stellar, better than that, but I know you’re still on a case and my fingers are itching and-“

“Garcia. I love you, but decaf time for you,” Emily cut the ramble off impatiently, but not unkindly. “Why are you calling?”

“I could help?” the woman on the other end of the line pipped up, hopeful. “Can I help? I want to help you even if you’re snappy. Why are you snappy?”

Steve swore that had the circumstances been any different, he would have smiled at the interaction, he really would. But the acutely painful thought of you, who would have laughed your perfect ass off hearing this, turned the corners of his lips downwards.

“Oh. It would be helpful if you could find any information on one Bonnie Stiles, agent with the Avengers Initiative. Mr. Stark is on it, but perhaps you can search outside their database?” Reid suggested, having Garcia perk up again, a distant sound of clicking of a keyboard already audible.

“Oh! You have a viable suspect? But that’s good!”

Steve caught Emily’s bitter smile as she spoke up again. “Yeah. Sorry to be snappy. That’s the good news, Stiles probably is our unsub. Bad news is that she took Jones.”

Short silence followed the ominous announcement, even the movement of Garcia’s fingers apparently ceasing.

And then the technical analyst spoke again, her normally cheery voice earning an unmistakable dark edge.

“Well, one Ms. Bonnie Stiles better prepare for me raising hell. I’m gonna dig out so much dirt I could bury her under it. Call you back.”

The call disconnected.

Steve felt an overwhelming surge of affection towards the woman; from the three simple sentences, he could tell she fiercely adored you and she was willing to do just about anything for you. And so would he; they were like brothers in arms.

“I hate this Stiles woman,” Tony spitted out, uncharacteristically humourless – and even less characteristically so, in complete agreement with Steve. “I can’t tap into her phone yet, she’s using some kind of stupid coating I’ve never seen before. I can break the encryption, but it will take some time.”

The brief optimism Steve had felt was wiped instantly.

“We don’t have time,” he hissed, turning to the billionaire who didn’t bother glancing up as his fingers played an angry staccato on the keys.

“I’m inclined to agree,” Hotch spoke, once again irritatingly calm. “But Jones will buy us some. The faster we find them the better, but Jones is one of the best agents I’ve ever worked with. She’ll know what to do, she’ll play into whatever fantasy and affections Stiles is holding onto.”

His whole demeanour spoke of conviction; he stood tall, chin up, dark eyes kind and proud. Your former boss had firm belief in your abilities and so did Steve – he knew you could face danger. You were wicked smart, your ability on display every day through your quick-witted retorts well-thought decisions. Your emotional intelligence was off the charts too.

But cold fear gnawed on Steve’s mind anyway – could that be enough?

“You think she’ll fool her?” Steve asked hopefully, voice as small as he felt. “For long enough?”

“I believe so and I hope so, yes.”  

Steve took a deep breath, letting the words wash over him and give him strength. Because that was what you needed now – you needed the Earth’s mightiest heroes and the reinforcements you had called in, unsuspecting of being the one who’d need saving.

“What’s our plan once we find the location?” Emily pondered. “We can’t exactly barge in, guns blazing.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Agent Hotchner agreed, his serious gaze finding Steve’s, clearly considering him the leader of the Avengers. “I think we’re gonna need you to support us weapon-wise. The Initiative knows Stiles’ training better than anyone. Which is why I believe we should take Agents Romanoff and Barton… and you, Steve.”

Steve’s heart skipped a startled beat, relief and satisfaction washing over him at once.

He was coming with. Good. It didn’t even cross his mind to stay put since you were revealed as the true target, but he knew that if you were here, you’d raise hell at the mere notion of him going with Stiles still being in possession of the bullets.

But the truth was, he had fucked up, so he was about to fix it. No more sitting back. He didn’t care for the reason Agent Hotchner wanted him with – hell, he wouldn’t care if he’d end up catching the bullet. He was going to be there for you and make sure you were safe again.

Curiously, not one person from the BAU seemed surprised at Hotch’s announcement. Tony, on the other hand, was a different story entirely.

“Hold up, hold up… really? You’re taking him and you’ll turn down the advantage of my armour?” Tony asked bitingly, offended.

In contrast, Hotch seemed barely fazed.

“You’ll be the back-up. We need the man in a flying suit to stay out of this, you’re too intimidating. Stiles might panic if she sees you, shoot either herself or Jones or both. You need to keep your distance. The rest of us will come in… but you do as we say and you let us talk.”

Steve’s blood ran cold.

Say what?

“You sure about that?” Tony spoke before Steve could, the flare of anger rendering him speechless.

He was coming, but he’d be coming as a prop?!

“Yes. Stiles is clearly a well-trained agent and we cannot underestimate her, that much is true. It is already a risk to take Captain Rogers, but he could be the distraction we need to throw Stiles off balance,” Hotch insisted, turning to Steve. “She won’t be expecting you because of the bullets and the danger they pose to you. That is if you’re even willing to undergo the risk?”

As if that was even a question. This was you. He truly would let himself be shot if it came to it; even if the stakes were higher than usual and even normal bullets were no damn joke. But his body could take it. If it ensured that you’d get alive out of there? To hell with specialized firearm.

“I don’t care for a few bullets, Agent Hotchner.”

“Good.”

They were like fire and water; Steve heated in his determination, Hotch steady. Steve hated the idea of only tagging along from the bottom of his soul; as much as he had never chosen to be the Captain, he gravitated towards the leading position more and more. A courtesy of his stubbornness and unwillingness to compromise his morals and beliefs.

So it would taste bitter to swallow the pride and let your former boss take the lead and it would be even harder to trust him with something as precious as your life – but you had called them in. You had faith they were the best of the best and you had trusted them with his life; and as much as everything in him fought the notion of giving up the wheel, the crash feeling as if imminent, he had to do it.

For you.

He’d rather keep you than his pride.

“Is this-- is what you’re describing the safest way for Jones?” Steve asked lowly, a lump in his throat.

“Statistically, yes,” Reid said matter-of-factly, even if slightly worried. The same moment, Hotch spoke too, calm. “I believe so.”

Steve nodded, less than reassured.

For you. He was doing it for you.

“Then we’ll do it just like you say.”

“Sir, Agent Romanoff just texted you they have nothing and are on the way back,” Jarvis chimed in.

“Good. Tell them to hurry up, J. Thanks,” Tony hummed absentmindedly. “I’m almost done with the decryption. In the meantime, some light reading for you all.”

New files emerged; Stiles’ school records, medical data, employment history, family, bank accounts.

How did Tony find it, Steve had no idea. But he latched onto every new word to gather all the intel he could on the enemy. Hotch might be in charge – but Steve had no qualms about stepping in, nor about destroying Agent Stiles with his bare hands and any means necessary. No matter her missions record and medical history.

He noticed Hotch absently reach for his phone as his eyes remained on the files, blindly dialling a number, automatically putting the call on speaker.

“Dammit, bossman! I can only type as fast even when I’m highly motivated,” the now familiar voice sputtered on the other end, exasperated typing in the background.

A brief smile passed on Hotch’s lips.

“I’m sorry, Garcia, but I know you’re genius enough to already have something for us. Don’t you?”

A fleeting moment of silence that allowed Steve to finish reading – and the technical analyst sighed, her voice suddenly warmer.

“Low blow, sir, but oh, do I have something. I think you have most of it, but let me tell you, Bonnie Stiles is a sad sad person,” Garcia started out, a note of compassion lacing her voice.

And Steve felt it too, but Stiles would be a lot more sorry soon, because no matter her tragedies, she had no right to hurt you.

Hurting you was one of the rare things Steve could never forgive to anyone.

“So, her mother died when Bonnie was only thirteen, father shortly after her eighteenth birthday. She was acting out after her mother’s death; she’s got a juvie record for petty theft and some small vandalism in girl’s showers at the private school she has been kicked out from right after. My guess? She made a teeny tiny hole to watch whenever she wanted – in secret. This was around the same time her relationship with her classmate Caroline became a public knowledge, leading to Caroline being kicked out as well. I don’t know anything about them after that, but my guess is they broke up shortly after, because Caroline’s family moved to Oregon. Anyway, back to Bonnie… changing schools set her back on track, no record after that. She graduated top of her class, signed up for academy and here we are. I suppose you have better records of her career than I do.”

A few hums of agreement confirmed the claim, giving Garcia room to breathe in after her long monologue.

“Right, so what you might not know is that she got an ugly incident in April. Some not-so-representative pictures of her being completely smashed appeared online after she got cheated on by her girlfriend with a man from what I gathered from the chitchat you don’t want to know where I found,” Garcia said matter-of-factly. “Which is awful and I always have to question my faith in humanity when people cheat, but it’s not as awful as the news Stiles received about her medical condition exactly seventeen days ago.”

“Breast cancer,” Reid supplied, as if everyone in the room hadn’t already read that.

Steve wanted to feel sorry for the woman, he really did – but right now, pity was the last emotion on his mind. He understood they were still searching for your location and he knew Hotch, Reid and Emily could read things behind everything they just found out, but the clock was ticking.

Time was the one thing they didn’t have, despite your undeniable qualifications and witty brain.

“Yes. She’s to enter radiotherapy in a month,” Garcia added. “It doesn’t look like she’s beyond saving in the slightest, but…”

“But we could play ‘choose your favourite stressor and trigger’,” Emily noted sarcastically, eyeing Steve. “She probably feels like she running out of time and the rumours about your relationship didn’t help.”

The implication that whatever he felt for you and morphed into his behaviour towards you forced Bonnie to act had Steve’s stomach plumet. But what was he supposed to do? Not love you? Hide his affection better, when you seemed just as enthusiastic about spending time with him?

“I’m searching for a possible secondary location she could take Jones to, but so far coming out empty. I assume her apartment with the reduced rent from the Avengers Initiative wouldn’t be her first choice.”

“Good thinking. And good job, Penelope, keep it up,” Emily praised her colleague kindly.

“Will do, my dears.”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Agent Hotchner added, eyes calculating as his mind was already miles away. “Let us know if-“

“I will, but guys?”

“What is it, Garcia?” Reid chimed in, curious as Garcia’s voice turned barely audible.

“Bring her home safe, please?”

Steve couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips, nor the anxiety digging into his gut. That was all he wanted too; he really sympathized with your friend.

He caught a sad smile on Reid face too as Emily replied, voice firm and full of a promise. “We plan to.”

And that they did.

“Good. You all stay safe too, that’s an order. Garcia out.”

With a shuffle on the other end of the line, she was gone again; but the team didn’t get a chance to discuss anything further as Natasha and Clint rushed down the hallway, bursting into the room, battle-ready and slightly out of breath.

“Where are we with tracking that son of a bitch who took Cap’s girl?” Clint asked, sharp eyes skimming over the holographic files.

Steve didn’t correct him for once; if the past two days were any indication, you soon might be exactly that. Even if the near-kiss in the elevator earlier in the morning felt like ancient history.

Tony noticed the lack of Steve’s protest, smirking.

“Just the bitch, like I was saying from the start. And I got her location juuuuust… now,” he blurted out, already on his feet, his determined eyes on Steve.

Despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach, adrenalin flooded Steve’s bloodstream, muscles tensing, readying to fight – to punch his way through just about anything.

A plan was already forming in his head--- but his mind came to a sudden halt.

His fists practically vibrated, jaw tight as he gritted his teeth – because he realized he wasn’t the one whose plan would be put in motion.

He found it hard to call it a good thing; even if deep down, he knew that the majority of his plan was to crush Stiles’ windpipe if he found a single scratch on you. He closed his eyes, granting himself one calming breath before he glanced at Agent Hotchner who moved to the door.

“Okay, Agent Hotchner, you call the shots. Don’t make me regret it.”

Hotch just reciprocated his glare, an unrelenting silent force, the tinniest nod.

“We care about her too,” Emily said softly, one corner of her lips up.

It was a simple statement of a fact; but the genuine affection and fierce determination rolled off Emily in waves and gave Steve’s mind at least some peace.

He knew that. He had seen that and heard that. It just had to be enough.

“Riiiight. Feelings later. You’re in charge? Then take charge,” Natasha hummed, chin up as she stared at her temporary commander – only for her head to whip to side when she saw Steve move towards to the door, exasperation painting her features. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, Rogers? Sit down.”

Steve ignored her, grateful for Reid to explain instead of him.

“He’s coming with us. That’s the plan. We have to take the antidote as a safeguard, of course, but his presence should play in our favour.”

A beat of silence followed. Natasha’s face was calculating as she stared at Steve, not blind to his satisfaction.

“Fine,” she sighed as Steve walked past her, her hand catching on his forearm. He met her serious gaze. “Just… don’t be a dumbass and don’t get shot. She’d be pissed.”

Steve gulped. He didn’t know why Natasha thought he liked the idea of getting shot by bullets specifically designed to incapacitate him, but he couldn’t deny the truth of her words. You’d be furious; very endearingly so.

He gave a barely noticeably nod, having Natasha release him, the automatic door falling open for him as he made to stalk out.

“She would! Spark-les would fly!”

No one dignified Tony’s joke with an answer; their heads were on the mission already.

“Really? No one feels that pun?” Tony hummed, slightly offended. “Fine. I agree though, don’t get shot, she’d kill us.”

Steve just sighed, the pit in his stomach too deep with biting worry to truly care or act upon his annoyance. If he wanted to punch Tony for this and many other things, it had to wait.

There were more important things at hand – namely you.

God knew that for Steve, you were the most important thing of all.

I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying were words of someone who had found themselves face to face with Steven Grant Rogers, you thought. They must have been.

In the dim light of the movie still playing, shadows danced over his sharp features, softened by the sleep of the righteous, who rarely did wrong since they always acted in their best conscience. You knew that his actions and all the pain he had endured in his life weighted on him still, but at the moment, he seemed at peace.

Lips pursed and slightly parted, chiselled jaw relaxed. Eyes slipped shut, eyelashes casting long shadows over his cheekbones, over the greening healing bruise. Soft pants of breath warming your waist. Hair sticking in all directions.

He was cute.

There had been nothing cute about the way his absent eyes seemed to barely recognize your face; nothing cute about the bruise, the drying blood in his cut; nothing cute about the rasp in his voice, dripping with exhaustion despite his body looking as taut as a bowstring.

It gradually melted away, eyelids growing heavy as he relaxed into your side, first his head lulling to side and then his whole body, pinning you down. The 240-pound supersoldier used your body as a pillow and a mattress at once.

You wouldn’t change a thing about it.

You lowered the volume, half-heartedly resuming watching the movie, gaze straying to the soundly sleeping man more and more frequently.

Huge men like Steve should not look this cute, but here you were, fingers itching to run through his hair, to trace the graceful lines of his face.

No matter how difficult it was to resist, the tingle in your fingertips originating from your guttural need to touch him was not the main problem; you had some resemblance of control still. The pins and needles creeping into your arm however, fully occupied by holding Steve’s weight, were a wholly different issue.

The first minutes, you chewed down on your lip, fighting the urge to move, because dammit, Steve was drained by the mission and he deserved his rest. But then the pain grew and grew and then it disappeared altogether, which was even worse, and as much as you hated it, you spared one last glance at Steve’s angelically innocent face before you tried to free your arm, moving as little as possible.

You failed; Steve jolted awake, adorably confused, then apologetic, then red as a tomato. Unbearably beautiful and sheepish and soft. So soft that the image of him turned a little hazy, overpowered by feeling returning to your arm, the biting pain returning twice as sharply.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry-“ he apologized, frantic, his voice familiar and foreign at once, his face swallowed by shadows as he stumbled backwards and nearly toppled over.

You wanted to call out for him and tell him it was fine, maybe that you would be perfectly okay to have him sleep on you or next to you at any given time; but your mouth felt as if stuffed with cotton, tongue sticky and heavy.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

The voice was still echoing in your head as you blinked your heavy eyelids open, tender fingers carding through your hair stilling and then disappearing.

A face slowly came into focus, low light illuminating familiar features of a woman. A colleague, you realized, dull pain throbbing in your temples; merely search for a name to put to the face felt absurdly hard.

Steve. You had been with Steve—no, dreaming of Steve, remembering a movie night, but how—what-

The stalker. You were investigating a stalker, your former team was in New York, at the Tower, there were flowers… I could hurt those who are not worthy of you… the flowers. You lost it, again, you went to the café to get some air and sugar and caffeine and-

“Cindy,” you muttered, closing your eyes, the face of your colleague flashing in your brain, whispering you that this wasn’t Cindy, no, you had met Cindy at the café, she bumped into you, but this wasn’t her, no, the name Cindy didn’t feel right.

You swallowed, throat dry, as you opened your eyes again, your memory finally kicking in.

“Bonnie.”

She smiled, eyes wide and a little apologetic. Her head was tilted to side, you realized; so was yours. Your head was spinning but when you tried to take inventory of your body, sensations attacked you all at once. You found yourself lying on your side on something soft, but not unbearably so; a bed.

You were lying on your side, hands tied behind you back, your weight squishing you left arm and shoulder – the source of the unpleasant tingles so strong they crept into your dreams.

“Arm,” you managed to whisper and before you knew it, the whole world swayed as you were pulled up and steadied in a sitting position by a firm grip on your arms. Nausea swung your stomach up and down, causing you to gasp.

Fuck, you so didn’t want to throw up now, but you also really felt like it.

You had been taken.

The fact seemed to dawn to you too slow; your brain was asleep still, the unfamiliar room screaming at you of an empty life of whoever occupied it.

Of whoever kidnapped you.

You? Why- Why Cindy? And Bonnie... Christ, your head hurt.

The profile. Two profiles? Two people? It had made no sense- and Steve surely would have noticed if he saw the two women repeatedly, if-

Oh. Oh. Oh no.

“Mimicry.”

That was why Steve never saw it coming. It was likely there really was only one unsub; with a photostatic veil. Bonnie Stiles.

Her smile turned brighter, almost proud.

“Yes. I knew you would understand immediately. You’re smart.”

Not smart enough, apparently. Or observant, you thought bitterly. You would have never guessed Bonnie could be the unsub – you’d swear she had never expressed any interest in men as long as you knew her, hell, you believed she hated men after what Lucille did to her. You would have never thought she’d fall for Steve.

Clearly, you were wrong. Then again, you didn’t know her all that well, so that wasn’t surprising.

Christ, why was the light from the lamp on the nightstand so bright? Why did your limbs feel so heavy? More importantly though – how the fuck were you about to get out of this? How did you even find yourself in this situation?

“Are you hurting?” she asked softly, swiftly letting go of your arms, taking a frantic step back. “I’m sorry.”

Why was she sorry? She just kidnapped you, probably believing you were in her way to Steve, a romantic rival. And yes, you were also an acquaintance of hers and a colleague, but primarily, you were a rival now. She was sorry you were hurting?

Why did she care?

Why would she even kidnap you if you were in her way? Why not just shoot you point blank when she got to you, especially when she could borrow anyone’s face, getting away with it with no effort? What was she hoping to achieve with this? Getting Steve’s attention? Hoping Steve would be chivalrous and took your place so she had him for herself? Or did she believe that seeing her orchestrate all this would impress him, including the fact she had overpowered you, proving she was better than you?

But then why weren’t you in any of the photos in the first place? If you weren’t worthy either?

Or was that a next stage? Civilians got photos, you and later Natasha would get a kidnapping?

Oh god—was she going to use mimicry to impersonate you to get closer to Steve? That was absurd, he’d be able to tell immediately anyone in their right mind would know that--- alright, Bonnie probably wasn’t in her right mind.

But still, it circled you back to why were you still alive if she wanted to impersonate you. Not that you were complaining. It was just that truly, nothing was making sense anymore.

What mattered now, however, was that if she felt the slightest remorse at hurting you still, you could get through to her.

“My head… I feel really dizzy and tired,” you said, trying to appeal to her conscience. Bonnie grimaced regretfully. Score. “Can I get some water maybe?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, gulping, face paling as her eyes frantically scanned your body, then looked around the room as if she couldn’t tell how to avoid the guilt she felt.

Good. This is good.

“And you don’t have to, Bonnie. You don’t have to do any of this. I promise you I am not in your way. Steve has no romantic interest in me-“

Her search came to a sudden halt, head snapping back to you, pupils dark.

Your hazy brain understood in an instant that you had misstepped. You shouldn’t have mentioned Steve. You were not worthy after all.

Not to mention that you were getting the feeling that Steve was in fact rather interested and you just made the mistake of lying to an unhinged stalker.

Bravo, Jones.

“Exactly!” Bonnie spat venomously, eyes flashing with rage. “He has no romantic interest and you… you pine after him!”

Okay, that was one way to call you out. And here you thought you were less obvious. And you wouldn’t have thought that was too big of an issue, but it seemed that at the moment, even being into Steve was something you were not allowed to do.

You said nothing to your defence, however. Words betrayed you; how were you supposed to react anyway, without lying again?

“He just wants to--- like all men! They all make such a mess of things, they cheat and they make you cheat, good people, faithful people, they- they taint you-“ she sputtered, out of breath, hands trembling as did you heart in fear.

You got her worked up. Stupid, stupid- but how to calm her down-

“He doesn’t deserve you! He’s. Not. Worthy!”

Your mind came to a screeching halt. All air got knocked out from your lungs, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Oh no.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck-

You had messed up. You had messed up big time, made an enormous leap of judgement.

The kind of a mistake that would have got you fired had you still been working at the BAU. The team was never going to let you live this down.

Not that that was the priority here.

God, you were an A-class idiot. It had been right there in front of you the whole time and you hadn’t seen it.

Steve was the target, yes, but only as a literal target for the stolen bullets. The primary object of the stalking was you. Bonnie Stiles thought Steve was not worthy of you and she tried to tell you through the pictures.

And it hadn’t even crossed you mind… but why would it? If the chances were it was either Steve or you, how could you have figured out the right answer, when the choice seemed to obvious? How?

Perhaps by not pining after him and using your damn brain. You had the photos in your mailbox because they were meant for you. It was so absurdly clear now – how could you think a stalker so meticulous would mess up and chose a wrong mailbox? If you had only taken a step back instead of drowning in self-pity about the people you had failed to save before and thought twice. How could have you been so idiotic and not see she was after you?

The thing was, you really wanted to blame yourself for not thinking clearly. But as a former profiler and a friend to the master of all science Spencer Reid, you knew all too well what effects love had on the brain.

You had never stood a chance. Not since the moment you had set your eyes on Steven Grant Rogers.

Tender fingertips brushed your cheekbone, bringing you back, gaze refocusing on Bonnie’s face softened by an apology yet again.

“I didn’t mean to yell, I’m sorry. But you deserve so much better.”

Well, this changed the situation a lot.

What angle could you play now?

As you felt Bonnie’s gaze boring into yours – a mad gaze, a soft gaze, loving and lost and angry at once somehow – a flip in your brain switched, throwing you into a strict work mode. Even if you were far from being at your best.

Faintly, you recalled the basic handbook for talking down an unsub. Or any disturbed individual, really.

When talking to a disturbed person who has an advantage, do not argue.

“Bonnie… I had no idea. I had no idea you-“ you bit your tongue as the word love almost came out, “harboured any feelings.”

She nodded sadly, releasing your cheek.

Slowly, she took a seat on a nearby chair; she must have sat there earlier when she guarded your bedside as you slept. The idea of it was creepy, but that was beside the point. Bonnie was on a verge of a nervous breakdown. Or as Reid would remind you, a major depressive episode as they called it now.

Oh Spence…

Do not try to talk them out of their illusion.

“I was afraid I’d get my heart broken again. And I saw you with him and I just wanted you to be happy, but—but the way he was with other women, so cocky, so flirty,” she hissed, hand curling into a fist. She took a deep breath, forcing a small smile, determination flickering in her eyes. “I knew I couldn’t wait anymore. I was running out of time and he-- I knew I had to protect you. Us. You understand, don’t you?”

Do not lie unless you can perfect your lie.

“I understand the need to protect the ones I care about, yes.”

Her smile turned relaxed as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and you curled your toes in fight to stay entirely still as she did so.

Do not show how disturbing their behaviour is unless someone is in immediate danger.

“I knew you would. You’re pure. Too kind even. I saw as much with myself and with him. Perhaps neither of us is worthy of your love, but I will earn it,” she vowed. “Will you give me the chance, Angelo mio?”

You gulped at the endearment, shivers running up your spine.

You had heard it before. You had heard it when you accidentally eavesdropped on Bonnie ending a call with her former girlfriend whom she had met when in Italy.

This wasn’t just ‘celebrity’ stalking and delusion. She was also fulfilling a fantasy of fixing her relationship. This time, it would work out; her beloved wouldn’t cheat on her. She’d make sure of it. That’s what the bullets were for.

If you went along, the bullets might end up in Steve unless you convinced Bonnie he was not an issue for you and her. If you tried to talk her out of her illusion, you would be the one to catch a bullet very fast.  

Neither of the options were exactly comforting; as a matter of fact, they both really sucked.

“B-bonnie, I-“

“Promise me you’ll give me a chance,” she pleaded softly, and hadn’t it been for her furrowed brows, you would have believed it truly was a request and not an order.

The problem was, you couldn’t make that promise. It was like page number three in the handbook: Do not make any promises you are not sure you can keep. You had learned that one the hard way before. You wouldn’t make such promise now; so you had to stray the conversation elsewhere.

Or could you try to escape?

Barely. You still felt the effects of whatever she had dosed you with, both on your body and mind; the gears of your brain turned and turned, but whined with each minuscule motion as if rusty.

If you tried to fight, you’d end up dead. Not an outcome you were a fan of.

You licked your lips.

“Bonnie, I… what did you mean you were running out of time? Is it because you were taking a leave of absence?”

Her gaze fell to the floor, face turning away from you; you caught a glimpse of shame coating her features, her body curling into itself.

“I’m… I’m sick. But I will undergo radiotherapy and they said the chances are good!” she cried out, meeting your gaze again, eyes shining.

Oh. Oh okay.

The puzzle pieces, however small, were slowly falling into place, creating more and more concrete pictures. Possible stressors, the final trigger. All in all… it wasn’t too hard to feel genuinely sorry; so you let it consume you, the truth of the feeling seeping into your words.

“Oh Bonnie… I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-”

“Don’t be,” she blurted out, smiling through the glimmer of tears as she reached her palm to your thigh. “We can pull through. Together. Just promise me.”

She really was set dead on that promise, wasn’t she? It was perfectly unexceptional, but that didn’t make it any easier to manoeuvre around it.

How long could you handle it before you said something wrong?

It hadn’t escaped your notice there was no watch on your wrist; you doubted you still had your phone. There was no way for Steve and others to locate you unless they figured out Bonnie was behind everything – and maybe not even then.

Your former team was brilliant, so were the Avengers, and Steve wouldn’t rest until he found the culprit now when it was someone else who was in danger, but… it took you to be kidnapped and have it spelled out for you to understand Bonnie’s motivation and to tie the actions of the unsub to her.

How long till they’d figure it out?

How long till you made another terrible leap of judgement?

Your windpipe felt as if in a vice, chest burning with a lack of oxygen, squeezed in panic.

You couldn’t die.

You could not die, that was not an option, you had so much to see and try and Steve finally seemed interested, hell, maybe he had been interested the whole time and you wasted a good part of two years just watching from the side-lines, burying your feelings as deep as possible because you had been scared to lose him and now you could die before you found out what it felt like to be held by him as his girlfriend, to kiss him breathless, to have his hands roam your body, strong hands, gentle hands, artist’s hands-

“Angelo mio… where did you go?” a tender voice – fake, pretend, insane under the mask of gentleness – asked you, a squeeze to your left thigh snapping you from spiralling and suck in a breath.

You blinked away the wetness that gathered in your eyes, charming out a shaky smile.

“Nothing would make me happier than to pull through,” you admitted heartily, and fuck, wasn’t that the truth. “But… I seem to know so little about you. I—I promise you to listen to anything you have to say to me. I’m sure you have a plan, an agent, a woman as capable as yourself… tell me everything. Anything. I promise to listen.”

Soft fingertips wiped away the stray tear that rolled down your cheek, Bonnie’s whole face bright, her smile almost patronizing.

“I will tell you everything. Together, we can handle anything. But first… you wanted water, yes?”

Oh thank god-

“That would be very kind of you. The cuffs-”

“I’m sorry. They must stay on for now. I saw you train; I know your record,” she said almost proudly as she stood up, determined. “I know you know tricks and I won’t be tricked.”

Your first instinct as to assure her that you wouldn’t try to trick her, lulling her into false sense of security – but that would be a blatant lie. This whole thing, feigning interest just to keep yourself alive, was a lie.

Yet, you tried your angle once more, just the tinniest push.

“I promised to hear you out.”

“That you did, but you might as well hear me out in an interrogation room if you arrest me. I’m paying attention, angelo. You’re sneaky. I like that. But trust is earned.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“The most important base of a relationship,” you agreed with a sigh, swallowing the bitterness.

“Trust and loyalty, yes.” Bonnie nodded, a dangerous glint in her eye. “So please, understand. I don’t mean to hurt you, never you, but the cuffs stay on for now. But don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Yeah, you’d fucking bet.

“I’m sure you’ll do your best,” you whispered.

And hopefully so would your team – trying their best and as quick as possible. Because you might have Bonnie calm at the moment, but even in the course of a mental breakdown and her delusion, she remained extremely sharp, much to your inconvenience.

And a loaded gun was still at the nearby table, out of reach, and your hands were literally tied.

When interacting with a distraught person, remain calm, read one of the rules.

That was easier said and done.

You had broken out of one panic attack and returned to the realm of rational, survival instincts and years of experience taking over, but your heart was hammering against your ribcage still. You were acutely aware of the weakness in your muscles, head still throbbing and swimming with the remnants of whatever drug Bonnie had injected you with. As she walked to the fridge in the kitchen, remaining in sight, the fact you were alone gnawed at your bravado.

You had no doubt the team worked as hard as possible, harder even – but you never felt so lonely in your fight. You had grown too accustomed to Steve’s presence, to your fellow agents’ presence.

Now, you only had yourself to rely on; and you knew you were in no condition to overpower Bonnie.

So despite your skin prickling at her touch, you allowed her to angle your head when she raised the bottle of water to your lips and you gulped at it hungrily, praying it wasn’t dosed with something too.

She waited patiently until you had your fill, watching you cautiously for any sign of discomfort. You nodded at her thankfully when she put it away. Yet, she stayed close, hand sliding to your neck, cradling your head while the fingers of her free hand brushed over your damp lips, causing you to shiver, eyes slipping close. Your stomach lurched, but you swallowed the acidic taste of bile, turning into a statue as not to anger your captor by withdrawing.

“I will take such a good care of you,” she echoed her own words, her breath fanning your face, a tell-tale of what was to come and you were not ready for at all, all your muscles tensing with effort not to pull back from that. “So good.”

And then, her lips were on yours, soft and tender, tasting of strawberries of her lip balm, all wrong. You battled not to squeeze your eyes tighter, conscious of Bonnie watching you. She had spoken of your well-being, but she was doing it for herself and you couldn’t anger her.

She craved to control you, to turn you into her perfect fantasy – one that loved her, kissed her with enthusiasm and displayed no resistance nor disgust.

She scrutinized your face; but she could not see into your head.

If you fought to see a flash of blue eyes and sandy hair behind your eyelids, recalling a comforting scent of sandal wood, she would never know.

If you recalled how you kissed his cheek right before you walked out, feeling the faint scrub of his stubble, the same you’d feel if he’d kiss you first thing in the morning, even if he had been clean shaven the night before, she wouldn’t guess.

And that was why she kissed you gently.

You imagined Steve would kiss like this too, at least at the start.

Gingerly, without pressure until he had your full consent, and always like you were something precious. Maybe like you were something his. His large hand would be on your neck, long fingers tipping your chin back to tilt your head to his liking, lips parting slowly, wordlessly asking you to do the same, just to get a taste, to kiss you deeper, know you better, his other hand pressing to the small of your back, pushing your body closer to his, until it would be hard to tell where his body ended and your started.

You blinked your eyes open, panting softly, met with the sight of Bonnie’s satisfied smile. You were acutely aware of how your pupils were blown wide – a convenient effect of what you imagined – and how it played into her delusion perfectly.

She licked her lips, stroking your jaw lightly before smiling wider.

“So good,” she repeated, content. “Now I suppose we can play the twenty questions. What would you like to know?”

→ Next part

Series masterlist // Steve Rogers masterlist // Misc masterlist

I told myself I WOULDN’T post a chapter with a five-digit word count and I failed 🙄 Ah, well😂

I know, this one has been long and heavy for me too, but this time it felt just wrong to split it in two… I hope you enjoyed 💕