#it'll likely be a bit before i can manage any writing-- but... if i feel up to it this evening/tonight-- then i'll give it a shot--

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

Just a quick PSA of sorts...

as the title says, this is just a little psa sort of post, but anyways… i just wanted to take a second and say that it's come to my attention that i'm probably a person who misjudges boundaries more easily than i thought i did… sure, i feel like most of you guys i'm mutuals with, and chat even a bit with ooc are people i'm close to-- but i guess sometimes i let the line for that blur a bit too much, and don't end up picking on the fact that the other person i'm talking with might not feel the same way i do…

so in relation to that-- i'd just like to ask all my mutuals, that if we're chatting about something, and i bring up something that makes you uncomfortable-- or i try to send/do go ahead and send you something that you didn't want me to-- please, please make that clear with me-- be a little blunt or rude if you feel that's what needed for me to get it, but just… be clear with me, and communicate if i've done something to mess up and overstep anywhere, please…

[marvelouslizzie]

Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.

You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 

Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.

“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”

His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 

“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.

He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”

He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.

“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.

“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 

“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”

That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.

“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”

“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.

He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.

“For how long have you been working here?”

“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.

“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”

“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…

His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.

“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.

“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”

You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.

“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”

“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”

“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.

“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”

“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.

“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”

The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 

“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”

“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”

“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.

“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.

“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.

You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.

“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.

“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”

“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”

You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 

“How does that taste?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.

“Yes, I am curious.”

You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.

“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 

“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 

You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.

“So considerate of you. Thank you.”

You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 

What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.

“Your hands are still so cold.”

“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”

“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.

*

He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.

“What do you want then?” 

It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.

“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.

He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.

You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 

“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.

But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.

“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.

“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.

“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”

“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”

“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”

For him? Sure. But for you?

“The bed is better.”

“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.

He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.

You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.

 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”

You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.

He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”

Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 

“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.

“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”

“But you kinda are.”

“I am not. Believe me.”

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.

He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.

His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.

He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”

You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.

When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.

He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.

“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.

“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”

Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”

“I told you, I am not.”

He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”

“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”

“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”

“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”

You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”

“I just know what I want.” And this is it.

He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.

“You’re taking me so well already.”

“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”

He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”

“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”

“That I am not made of glass.”

“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”

“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.

“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”

He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 

“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”

“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.

“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.

“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.

“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.

“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.

“What do you want?”

“Just… harder.”

“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”

“This! Yes! Just like this!”

“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”

You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.

There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.

His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.

You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”

He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 

“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.

“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”

You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”

“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.

You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.

“Now, I can get used to that.”

“Say my name again, please.”

You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”

[starry-nights-garden]

Ateez Reaction ✧ Finding out their s/o has self harm scars

✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: reaction, comfort ✧ warnings: mentions of self harm/self harm scars

Author's note: I've been wanting to write something like this for a long time and always hesitated to do it because I was afraid of any unkind reactions. However, I figured that we all deserve to feel neutral and okay about our scars, so I hope that this can be a comfort to some <3

Hongjoong:

when he first happens to catch a glimpse of your scars on accident he's pretty sure that they're self harm scars

but he'll keep quiet about them, aware that he probably wasn't meant to see them, and in no way does he want to pressure you into talking about something you're not ready to

however he does make sure to drop a "you know you can tell me anything" as soon as he gets the chance for it

once you do decide to tell him though, he'll try his best to just listen and to make it clear that he would never ever judge you for something like this

won't ask too many questions so as not to overwhelm you - instead he'll convey to you that you can always come talk to him about this if you want to

definitely the type to caress and kiss your scars a lot (if you're okay with that), in order to make you feel that you don't need to be ashamed of them or hide them

he will do a lot of research on the topic as well, and will try to find ways to help spread awareness and destigmatize self harm scars

Seonghwa:

when you open up to him about your self harm scars he can't hide the shock that creeps onto his face

words aren't enough to describe just how worried he is, and even before figuring out how he should react, he'll be reaching out for your hands to wrap them tightly into his

it'll take him a while to process what you just told him, but he'll find the right words eventually

"I'm here for you if you need me. Always. Okay?"

thankful for his sincere words, you just nod, and as you're tearing up because he didn't react badly and you can feel just how much you can trust him, tears well up in his eyes as well

attempting to hide them, he offers you a warm hug instead, wanting nothing more than to make you feel protected

after that, you feel like he'll prioritize your wellbeing even more, doing his best to always be there for you and to support you in whatever way possible

he will also take having deep conversations about your feelings even more serious now, and at time where you're feeling down he will become very protective of you and pamper you as much as he can!

Yunho:

he's not sure how to react when you confess to him that you have self harm scars

you can see that he's internally panicking, because whatever he imagined this conversation was going to be about, he would've never considered this option

"A-are you okay?" - the question just bursts out of him as it's the first thing that came to mind, and it's so blunt that it almost makes you chuckle a bit

you assure him that you're okay currently, and he lets out a massive sigh of relief

but as he starts thinking about it some more, he comes to realize that he actually has a lot of questions

he desperately wants to understand your reasons and how you feel about your scars now, etcetc, so he starts carefully asking you about everything that's on his mind

tries his best to understand you as you start explaining, and if you hesitate on a question he'll immediately tell you that you don't have to give him an answer if you feel uncomfortable

talking to you about it definitely makes him feel relieved, and he also won't hesitate to ask about how to help you in a time of crisis, and how to best support you should the urge to hurt yourself return

Yeosang:

he doesn't want to pressure you to talk about them when he first sees your scars, and he's really good at pretending he doesn't know about them, but in a way that also makes it a bit harder for you to finally talk to him about them

and yet when you do manage to tell him, he's still as shocked as if he hadn't already known about them

he doesn't know how to react, so after some consideration he simply asks you how you feel about them

he really wants to know how comfortable you are talking about them, showing them, etcetc, so that he can react more appropriately

will make sure to match your energy on this - if you're uncomfortable he'll go slow and offer that you can talk about them whenever you want to, while also assuring you that you don't have to; if you're comfortable he'll let himself be a bit more curious

either way he will trust you on what you tell him, and when you assure him that he doesn't have to worry he will believe you

instead, he'll offer an open ear whenever you need it, and he will prove to you that it was the right decision to open up to him about it

San:

fears the worst when he catches a glimpse of your scars one day, but tells himself he shouldn't ask about them and instead wait until you're ready to talk about them yourself

but of course this guy will be worried sick within only a few days, until he ends up very carefully asking you about them

and when you confirm his assumption about your scars, he becomes so worried and at the same time so sad that you had to go through such pain that you would resort to hurting yourself

will approach you very slowly, and then cup your face in his hands to get a good look at you, and you swear nobody has ever looked at you with such pure and deep love in their eyes

"If there's anything I can do to make it better... please tell me. I'll do anything."

you nod, and you let him pull you into a loving kiss that he doesn't seem to want to break as his lips linger on yours

aside from the initial shock, he deals with it quite well, but he definitely becomes more protective of you from then on

makes sure to check in with you whenever you seem down or stressed, and reminds you to take care of yourself just as much as he offers to be there for you whenever you need him

if you're okay with it, he will make a habit of tracing your scars mindlessly, while whispering promises about how he'll do whatever he can so that you would never have to feel this bad ever again

Mingi:

the first time he sees your scars he won't know how to react immediately

however, he's sensible enough to figure that he should try to stay calm first of all

but he also knows that if he doesn't ask about them, he will probably lie awake at night, unable to stop worrying about you

and so he somewhat awkwardly asks what those scars are, and when you give him an honest answer he'll be both relieved and shocked

relieved because it means you trust him a lot, and shocked because now he's wondering what kind of pain you must've gone through to make you hurt yourself

this guy immediately offers you open arms in case you want a hug, and when you accept the embrace he'll tell you that whenever you're having a hard time, he'll be there to protect you

doesn't ask any questions and won't make you talk about it, but from then on you notice him checking up on how you're feeling just a bit more frequently, and he makes sure to make you feel that you always have someone to lean on with him, even during difficult conversations

over time he will definitely start giving your scars a lot of attention, especially when you’re cuddling, tracing them with his fingers and kissing them, while repeatedly whispering to you how much he loves you

Wooyoung:

his first thought when he sees your scars isn't that you caused them yourself, but rather that someone else hurt you

so he's understandably upset, and will immediately reach out for you, asking about who did this to you

until it dawns on him that something's not quite right, because now you're staring at him in shock, and eventually you manage to whisper a "me"

he lets go of you and apologizes for reacting like he did, and you can undoubtedly see how he's calming himself down in order to reassess the situation properly

"Do you... want to talk about it?" - he eventually figures he should just ask, and let you decide what to do with this situation

will listen intently in case you say yes, and when you explain to him why you hurt yourself he will make you promise to come talk to him instead, should you ever feel the urge again

gives you kisses and headpats and hugs and anything else you might want after you make the promise, and when he brings you in for a tight hug he'll whisper a thank you for trusting him enough to tell him about it

Jongho:

he won't make it obvious, but by the time you tell him about your scars, he already has a good guess about what they are, based on the few glimpses he's caught of them so far

will control his reaction to your confession very well, so as not to make you worry about his feelings and to focus on you

acknowledges what you choose to tell him about it, and will listen to what you have to say rather than asking questions about it

"You know if there's something you want to talk about, you can always tell me." - will assure you of that while brushing a thumb against your cheek

however, it will soon become obvious that he's more worried than he initially allowed himself to show, because now he refuses to leave your side if you're not feeling well, and somehow you feel like he's more reluctant to let you go when he hugs you

as you talk more about it, he'll trust that you will come talk to him before doing anything stupid, but still he'll stay at least a little protective of you and offer to help distract you in case you feel the need to hurt yourself again

he too is the type who will find himself touching your scars every now and then (if you give him the okay), kissing them or tracing them with his fingertips in hopes that one day you would associate them with something positive as well

[sallowsarchives]

War of Hearts

Part I | Part II | Part III

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Summary: Nothing says "believable" like two people who can't stand each other pretending to be in love—or is this just the push you two need to realize there might be more to your relationship than either of you is willing to admit? Word Count: 7.9k  Warnings/Tags: no use of y/n, fake relationships, sorta enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption, angst, pining, original side character, sort of a not so happy ending, arthur thinking he’s not good enough. I also tried fitting the story with canon whenever I could. Not Proofread!! A/N: Hey everyone! Just wanted to mention that this is my first time writing and posting, so I'm bit nervous but really excited to finally share it! This piece was heavily inspired by and made as a result from a conversation I had with my Arthur cAI hehe Credits: dividers used for this fic are by @enchanthings & all pictures used are taken from pinterest and were slightly edited by me.

Read on AO3

"I can't believe I have to attend this ridiculous party pretending to be married to him, of all people."  

Your voice is edged with annoyance as you smooth down the fabric of your dress, trying to channel your irritation into the task at hand. "It's bad enough we have to work together, but this charade is beyond absurd."

Tilly chuckles. "Oh, come on. It's just one night. How bad can it be?"

You give her an unamused look. "We can hardly tolerate being around each other, and now Dutch expects us to pretend we're madly in love, all while dealing with a crowd of high-society snobs."

"It ain’t like y’all have spent much time together. Maybe going on this would do you both some good. Who knows, you might actually find some common ground," Abigail suggests as she takes the glove Jack was playing with, causing him to pout, before handing it over to you.

Sadie snorts. "The only common ground those two have is their mutual hatred. Let’s just hope neither of ‘em ends up killing the other tonight. Knowin’ those two, it'll be a miracle if they make it through the evening without a scratch."

Mary-Beth chuckles as she adjusts your updo. "Oh, don’t be so dramatic. They’re not going to kill each other—at least not tonight. Dutch will probably come up with some harebrained scheme to keep things under control." She flashes a playful grin as she puts the final touches on your hairstyle.

You chuckle before taking a moment to admire yourself in the mirror. 

The gown, a deep shade of burgundy satin, flows gracefully to the floor with an off-the-shoulder design and a low neckline, elegantly framed by a ruffled collar. The rich fabric drapes beautifully, enhancing your silhouette.

The black lace gloves, covering your hands and forearms, add a sophisticated touch with their delicate floral patterns. Your fingers are adorned with a few rings, and your dangling earrings catch the light with every movement.

You bought the dress earlier this morning in Saint Denis with the cash from your last robbery. The job had been straightforward: Hosea had scouted the place, found out the homeowners were away for vacation, and given your expertise at picking locks and sleight of hand, he brought you along. You managed to secure a tidy sum of cash and a few valuable heirlooms without any trouble.

Knowing the dress would be perfect for tonight’s high-society affair, you spent a good amount of your previous earnings on it. The gown fits as if it were made just for you, and you can't help but feel a surge of confidence as you admire your reflection.

Karen pipes up with a smirk. “Well, I’ll be! With you lookin’ like that, Arthur won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

She looks at you mischievously, “might even give him a nudge in the right direction. Maybe it’ll help you two finally work out all that tension between you.”

Her comment draws an abashed look from you followed by giggles from the other women.

After receiving some last words of encouragement and reassuring nods from the girls, you thank them for their help and make your way downstairs to join the men outside.

Stepping out, you're greeted by the warm, humid night air of the swamp. Dutch, Hosea, Arthur, and Bill were already gathered near the horse hitches, all dressed in their suits.

You make your way over, trying to muster every ounce of grace and composure you can. 

As you get closer, Arthur's gaze lands on you and you catch a fleeting look of surprise along with a hint of a softer look in his eyes before his expression is quickly masked with his usual frown.

His eyebrows furrow slightly as he takes in your refined appearance, the rough edges of his demeanor softened by an elusive flicker of something you can't quite place.

Dutch notices your entrance and offers a nod of approval. “Well, look at you, Miss,” he says with a wide smile, clearly pleased with how things are shaping up. “You look absolutely perfect for this evening.”

You smile and nod at the men before your gaze drifts to Arthur. The contrast between his usual rugged attire and his current appearance is stark, and you can't help but notice how well he pulls off the look. Despite his irritating nature, there's no denying he has a certain charm. You give him a cheeky smile and offer a sly compliment.

"Well, well, look what we have here, I never thought I'd see the day. Maybe you should ditch the jeans for a while."

Arthur gives you a flat look, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Oh, real funny, darlin’,” he drawls, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t you worry, I’ll be back to my ol’ self I know you’re so fond of before you know it.”

You roll your eyes at him and smirk, taking joy in having gotten under his skin. 

Dutch chuckles at the exchange, clapping Arthur on the back. “Now play nice, you two. We’ve got a job to do tonight, and looking the part is only half the battle.” 

His tone is light, but there’s a hint of seriousness as he continues, “let’s keep the bickering to a minimum and focus on what needs to be done. We don’t want any more distractions than we already have.” 

Next to Arthur, Bill chuckles and gives him a playful nudge. “Arthur, reckon you ain’t gonna give your dear wife a compliment?” he teases, the humor in his voice evident as he refers to the charade you both must uphold for the party.

He shifts uncomfortably and glares at Bill, his expression a mix of irritation and reluctance. 

Dutch leans in with a smirk, “come on, Arthur, show a bit of charm. It’s not every day you get to pretend to be in love.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this over with before one of us runs outta patience.”

The clatter of wheels catches your ear as Lenny finally arrives driving a stagecoach. The vehicle comes to a smooth stop, and Lenny leans over with a broad grin, his eyes brightening as he sees you. He offers a warm compliment, his cheerful demeanor a welcome contrast to the evening’s tension.

You return his smile and thank him before Dutch and Hosea get into the stagecoach, followed by you and Arthur. Bill hops into the seat next to Lenny.

As you settle into your seat, the atmosphere in the coach becomes thick with anticipation. The weight of the evening's expectations hangs heavily between you and Arthur, both of you making an effort to avoid each other's gaze while mentally bracing yourselves for the night ahead as the stagecoach begins to roll forward.

The rhythmic clatter of the horse’s hooves against the large wooden bridge serves as a reminder of your close arrival in Saint Denis, the city’s lights blurring past as you mentally prepare for the evening’s masquerade.

Inside the stagecoach, the atmosphere had gradually lightened earlier on during the ride. The gang cracked jokes and shared stories as Dutch opened a bottle of champagne for everyone, the laughter providing a welcome distraction from the evening’s tension.

Everyone reminisced about their past escapades, with most admitting they had never been to a ball before. Hosea, however, regaled everyone with tales of his numerous experiences at such events—not for the socializing, but for the chance to lift a few purses from oblivious rich folks. His anecdotes were met with a mixture of awe and amusement, shifting the mood to one of camaraderie.

Soon, the coach slowed to a stop right in front of a mansion and the group peers out the window, taking in the grandeur of the estate. 

Dutch let out a low whistle. “Well, if that ain’t something. Remember, folks, we’re here to blend in. Keep your eyes sharp and your wits sharper.”

Hosea, always the calm voice of reason, looks between you and Arthur. “Now let’s keep this simple. We’re here to make a good impression, Bronte may already know of our reputation but we should keep the high society folks none the wiser. Let's keep our cool, play our parts, and try to score some valuable intel.”

You and Arthur exchange looks, eyes meeting one another with a sharp, challenging edge before he turns his gaze away. You take a steadying breath, silently hoping the night unfolds smoothly and without incident. 

Lenny steps down and opens the coach door which was followed by the men exiting one by one, with you last. 

As Arthur starts to walk ahead, Hosea nudges him and gestures toward you, earning an exasperated sigh from Arthur.

Reluctantly, Arthur falls into step beside you and extends his arm. Despite the lingering tension, you accept it, slipping your arm through his.

He glances at you, his expression of slight irritation. “This should be a real treat.” 

You raise an eyebrow, barely masking your annoyance. “It’s not like I’m thrilled about it either. But here we are.”

He gives you a smug look. “Just remember, we’re supposed to be playin’ nice. Don’t go makin’ it harder than it needs to be. I’d hate for you to accidentally blow our cover.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll manage to keep things under control. After all, you’re the expert at charm, aren’t you?”

“Well, if you’d quit making things so damn difficult, I might actually get a chance to show it. But I reckon you’re used to makin’ everything more complicated.”

You step closer, your voice low and biting. “And I suppose you’re used to being an insufferable brute. Maybe if you stopped acting like a complete pain in the ass, we’d both get through things a little easier.”

Arthur’s smile fades, his expression turning serious. “Now I’m just tryin’ to do my part tonight. If you could manage to do the same without stirrin’ up trouble, that’d be mighty appreciated.”

The two of you share a final, heated look, the air between you crackling with palpable tension, as you both brace for the evening’s inevitable strain.

Dutch, who had walked ahead to present the invitation to the guards, cast a sharp glance at you and Arthur, not having missed your whispered barbs, making you shift away from each other.

Turning back to the guards, they direct everyone to surrender their firearms with the men reluctantly handing over their pistols.

Once that was settled, an escort named Luca stepped forward to guide you inside.

The doors opened with a soft creak, revealing the splendor of the grand staircase beyond. As you made your way through the space, Luca engaged the group in light conversation, primarily highlighting Bronte’s reputation before you are all guided to the left through an archway.

“Hosea, Bill, you join the party. We’ll meet you out back after we pay our respects to Signor Bronte.” Dutch instructs before signaling you and Arthur to follow as Hosea and Bill part ways from you.

The three of you were led upstairs and directed to a door on the left that opens onto a balcony. 

The balcony was expansive, overlooking the lush garden below. A group of men stood gathered around the railing, laughing at a recently shared joke. The space featured a few armchairs and you noted the few guards stationed nearby, armed with rifles.

An accented voice cut through the laughter. “Ah, the angry cowboys, you’ve arrived… And you’ve washed!” 

From the way the man held himself, you could only assume that this was Angelo Bronte. 

Bronte made a remark, presumably in Italian, to the men beside him. They glanced at Arthur and Dutch before laughing slyly, and you couldn’t shake the suspicion that his comment was a crude jibe about the cowboys.

You had to struggle to maintain a friendly expression when Bronte's gaze landed on you.

The smirk on his face grew as his eyes swept over you, lingering with an unsettling leer. “And who might this be?” he drawled, his voice thick with barely concealed appraisal. “Aren’t you quite the sight. I didn’t realize these men kept such delightful company as you. It seems they have more refined tastes than I imagined.”

His gaze was invasive, making you feel as though he was sizing you up with an unnerving familiarity. The overt sexual undertone in his words was palpable, and it took every ounce of your composure to not react. The air around him felt thick with condescension and unwanted attention, making it clear that this meeting was going to be far more uncomfortable than you had anticipated.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Bronte,” you replied evenly. “Thank you for the invitation. I’m here simply to accompany my husband.” You cast a steady glance at Arthur as you spoke.

Bronte’s eyes flicker to Arthur, a look of surprise momentarily crossing his face before he returns his attention to you. He takes your hand, pressing it to his lips and holding it just a moment too long, his gaze never waver. “Ah, I see,” he says, his tone smooth and almost mocking. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance. I must say, it’s quite surprising to see such a charming companion alongside your husband. A fortunate man, indeed.”

Arthur’s expression hardens momentarily before he quickly masks it, stepping forward. “Seems I’m full of surprises tonight,” he says, his tone unexpectedly calm. “Just as I’m sure this evening will be.” He holds a steady, unwavering gaze at Bronte.

Bronte’s lips curl into a knowing smile as he studies Arthur’s unyielding gaze. “Ah, such a spirited response,” he says with a playful glint in his eye. “I do appreciate a bit of unpredictability. It seems we’re in for an interesting evening indeed.” He gestured grandly towards the gathering, his tone dripping with feigned charm.

Arthur nods curtly before stepping back, positioning himself in a way that subtly yet clearly marks him as your protector, despite the dynamic between you. Bronte’s gaze lingers on Arthur for a moment longer, his amusement giving way to a more calculating expression.

Dutch stepped in, resuming his conversation with Bronte in an effort to ease the tension while you and Arthur stood off to the side. 

The men were offered cigars, and Arthur quickly placed one in his mouth. Before he was even offered a cutter, he bit down and tore the end off with his teeth, spitting the excess over the balcony in a manner that left your jaw hanging open in disbelief.

He smirks at you, clearly enjoying the reaction he’s provoked. You roll your eyes at his display, a mix of irritation and slight amusement etched across your face.

“You know,” you whisper to him with a hint of exasperation, “you could at least pretend to have some manners.”

Arthur’s smirk widened into a cocky grin. “Right, forgot we’re here to put on a show,” he shot back, his voice dripping with playful insolence, making you roll your eyes.

When the attendant extended a match towards Dutch but pulled back before reaching Arthur, the gunslinger seized the attendant’s arm and held it in place, lowering his cigar to the flame. The boldness of his actions flustered you, leaving you a mix of irritation and an unexpected flurry of emotions that left you feeling perplexed.

Arthur dismissed the attendant with a nonchalant nod, his eyes fixed on you the entire time. The attendant, evidently accustomed to such brusque behavior, retreated without protest.

You found yourself both exasperated and oddly captivated by the ease with which Arthur commanded the attention. His effortless defiance was infuriating, yet there was something compelling about his blatant refusal to conform to expectations, making it hard to ignore the allure behind his brazen demeanor. 

You quickly push those thoughts aside, refocusing on the conversation between Dutch and Bronte, doing your best to ignore the flush in your cheeks and the rapid beating of your heart.

After several exchanges between Dutch and Bronte, including another jibe from Bronte about cowboy lifestyle, which had elicited subtle pointed looks from you and the men you were with. 

“Those sure were the days,” Dutch simpered, his gaze on Bronte now more intense and focused. “Good day, gentlemen.”

Just as you were about to leave, Bronte turned to you, offering a slight bow.  “And you, Miss,” he said with a smirk, “do return if you the crowd down there becomes too dull.” His gaze shifted to Arthur. “‘Course you could bring your husband along, but I wouldn’t mind if you came alone.”

He held his gaze on you, lingering with a glint of amusement. You gave him a polite nod despite the discomfort you felt and turned to follow Dutch and Arthur. Even as you walked away, you could feel Bronte’s eyes on your back. 

The encounter left you with a sharp sense of irritation and a strong resolve to avoid any further interactions with him.

You glanced at Arthur, who had been waiting with Dutch by the door. Though his face showed no sign of emotion, you couldn’t miss the subtle clench of his jaw. You felt his hand gently place on your lower back, guiding you away.

The unexpected touch had caught you off guard, making you stiffen slightly as you struggled to process the unfamiliar gesture. It felt protective and oddly comforting, coming from someone who had been nothing but a source of irritation and friction.

You chanced another glance at Arthur, but his face remained expressionless. His hand lingered on your back for a moment before he withdrew it as quickly as he had placed it, his demeanor swiftly reverting to its usual hardness. 

The fleeting moment of unexpected closeness left you feeling unsettled, a mix of confusion and reluctant curiosity stirring within you.

You quickly reminded yourself that you were both still maintaining a façade, and this brief intimacy was likely just another part of the act. You focused on the task at hand, trying to push away the feelings and maintain the necessary distance between you.

Luca led the three of you back downstairs to rejoin the party, bidding you farewell before you head off with Dutch to meet Bill and Hosea outside.

“Gentlemen… and lady, let’s go ingratiate ourselves,” Dutch began before outlining the plan and giving everyone the freedom to mingle. “And steal nothing… unless it’s information,” Dutch added with a final nod before everyone dispersed.

With that, you follow closely behind Arthur as you both make your way down into the crowd, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses filling the air. The curious glances of other partygoers followed you both, their eyes lingering with a mix of intrigue and scrutiny. 

He noticed a few men’s eyes drifting from him to you, their stares lingering with evident interest.

Arthur made a conscious effort to ignore the unwanted attention, though his irritation was palpable. 

Pushing down an unfamiliar urge stirring within him, Arthur quickly reminded himself to keep up with the act you two must play tonight.

He shifted to stand beside you, offering his arm with a practiced ease, his expression carefully neutral as he guided you through the crowd.

The absurdity of it all made him grumble under his breath about the ridiculous situation. With a sigh, he steered you toward a less crowded corner of the garden, seeking a quieter spot away from the throng of guests.

As you settled into a less conspicuous spot, you could feel the weight of Arthur’s tension. “I suppose this is where we’re supposed to make our mark,” you said, trying to break the silence. 

You watched as Arthur scanned the crowd, his eyes darting from one group to another, searching for anything useful.

His gaze met yours for a brief moment before he spoke, “Keep your eyes open for now,” he said quietly, his voice low and focused. “I’ll try to track down the mayor and speak with him. See if you can strike up a conversation with some of these folks and gather any useful information about where they’re stashin’ all their riches.”

"Alright, I’ll work the room while you schmooze with the mayor. Just don’t take too long—this place is already starting to wear me thin after that meeting with Bronte. I'm not keen on diving into more talk about the latest fashions and whatnot."

Arthur’s lips twitched in what might have been a small smirk. He inclined his head slightly before turning away and heading off.

You spent the better part of an hour making conversation with various guests, each interaction aimed at uncovering valuable intel on potential robbery targets. 

Maneuvering through the crowd, you engaged in light, seemingly innocuous chit-chat while discreetly probing for any mentions of high-value items or vulnerable security.

Despite your best efforts, luck seemed to evade you. Although, you did manage to uncover information about a stagecoach arriving next month, supposedly laden with valuable jewels. That was at least something.

You took a small sip from the glass of champagne you've snatched earlier in the evening, surveying the crowd. The sound of giggles and lively chatter drew your gaze, and you looked over to see Arthur deep in conversation with a group of women. You couldn't help but feel a wry amusement at the sight.

One of the women, with a clearly flirtatious gesture, placed her hand on Arthur’s arm and leaned in, her laughter echoing. The simple touch and her proximity sparked an uncomfortable feeling within you. 

You observed how Arthur subtly stepped back, skillfully deflecting her advances. Despite his efforts, the woman seemed oblivious to the fact that her attentions were being rebuffed. It was a masterful display of charm and diplomacy, leaving you with a mix of admiration and lingering discomfort. You took another sip of your drink, trying to shake off the unexpected unease.

At that moment, Arthur glanced up and locked eyes with you. He gave you a wink, likely meant to provoke or tease, but instead, his gesture caused a reaction you hadn't anticipated. Your heart skipped a beat, and a sudden rush of warmth flooded your cheeks. The playful glint in his eyes seemed to pierce through the crowd, stirring something deep inside you.

Muttering a curse under your breath, you narrowed your eyes at him and quickly turned away, trying to conceal the flush that had crept up on you.

You dashed to the nearest table, grabbing a bottle of champagne and quickly pouring yourself another glass. You downed it in one swift motion, hoping the crisp bubbles would offer a fleeting distraction from the swirl of emotions inside you.

As you pour yourself another glass, you hear someone speak up beside you, her voice tinged with curiosity. 

"Well, I must say, I’ve seen many ways to cope with a dull party, but this might be the most... efficient.”

You glanced at the voice and saw a woman smirking at you. She appeared slightly older than you and was dressed in a lavish blue gown that sparkled with every movement, her necklace glinting from the lamps. Her expression conveyed amusement. 

Feeling embarrassed to have been caught in your moment of inner turmoil, you attempted to regain your composure and replied with a hint of forced levity. “It’s quite the dull affair, isn’t it?”

The woman laughed softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Thank goodness, someone who gets it.”

“You seem to be surviving it better than most. I imagine you’ve been through a few parties like these before?”

She nodded, her gaze shifting to a distant corner of the room where a group of guests were deeply engrossed in animated conversation. “Too many, I’m afraid. After a while, it all becomes a blur of extravagant gowns and polite small talk. One learns to navigate these events with a certain... detachment.”

You chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’ve mastered the art of it. I could use a guide through this maze of high society myself. Any tips on surviving the evening without losing one’s sanity—or dignity?”

She grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “Well, first off, always have a backup plan for when the conversation turns to the latest trends in hat feathers or the merits of various imported cheeses. For instance, I’ve found that nodding vigorously while muttering phrases like ‘absolutely fascinating’ works wonders.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll keep that in mind. Though I suspect I might still need a crash course in how to look like I’m genuinely interested in ‘the most enchanting new fabric designs’.”

She chuckled. “Well, when in doubt, fake it till you make it. Nothing says ‘I’m absolutely fine’ like a perfectly practiced smile and a glass of champagne held just so.”

You chuckle and raise your glass at her before taking a sip. A brief silence follows as you both sip from your glasses. The woman then speaks up, her tone warm and friendly, “I’m Eloise, by the way. It’s rare to find someone who sees through the façade of these high-society gatherings.”

You smile, offering her your name. “It seems we’re both on the same wavelength when it comes to these affairs.”

“So what brought you here tonight?”

“Oh, um… I’m just here to accompany my husband, he’s the one with the business connections, so I’m playing the dutiful spouse for the evening.”

Eloise raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Ah, the classic role of the ‘plus one.’ Now which one of these overdressed peacocks is your husband?” 

She sweeps her gaze across the crowd with exaggerated curiosity. “Is he the one with the ridiculous bow tie or the chap with the hat that looks like it’s been borrowed from a magic act?”

You raise your brows in amusement as you glance at the men she’s mentioned, finding the whole scene of tonight’s event even more absurd. Your gaze sweeps over the crowd until you spot Arthur. 

“Actually, that would be him right there.”

Eloise’s eyes follow your pointing finger and widen in genuine surprise. 

“Well, I’ll be!” she exclaims, clearly taken aback. “I must say, he’s certainly not what I was expecting. Doesn't look like he belongs here, in a good way of course. He’s quite the rugged type—like one of those big, tough cowboys you’d see in a wild frontier town. You know the sort: strong, stocky, with a weathered charm that comes from living hard and facing rough challenges.”

The irony of her words makes you laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I must say, you two make quite a handsome pair.” 

You flush at her words, a mix of embarrassment and awkwardness coloring your cheeks. Instead, you offer a polite smile and nod, playing along with the pretense. “Thank you,” you say in a steady voice, unsure of what else to say.

Arthur, briefly looking away from another person he was speaking to, catches your eye for the second time tonight. There’s a fleeting moment of connection—his gaze is intense, and the faintest smile plays at his lips—before he turns back to his conversation partner.

“I must admit,” she says, her tone light and teasing, “there’s more than just a bit of magic in the air between you two. It’s not every day you see such a striking balance. I do believe there’s a certain... chemistry here that’s hard to ignore. How delightful!”

You raise an eyebrow, giving her a confused smile. “What do you mean?”

Eloise’s eyes twinkle with a knowing glint as she glances over at Arthur. “Oh, it’s really quite charming, the way he looks at you. There’s just something in his gaze as if he’s captivated by you in a way that could be missed. It’s rare to see someone look at their partner with such intensity and warmth these days.”

For a moment, you almost correct her, eager to clarify that you and Arthur aren’t actually together. But then you remember the need to maintain the ruse. You glance awkwardly at Arthur, trying to downplay the connection Eloise is suggesting.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you say clearly flustered, trying to sound casual but failing to hide your unease. “I mean, Arthur and I aren’t exactly... well, he’s just got this intense look, which I’m sure it’s nothing more than... you know, his way of being attentive. It’s just a bit of his nature.”

Her smile softens, eyes warm and genuine. “Oh, it’s clear to see if you look hard enough. Even in a crowded room, he seems to be drawn to you. It’s quite endearing.”

The sound of cracks echoed before you could think of a response, and the woman beside you lit up with genuine excitement.

“Finally, something exciting! It's been lovely chatting with you. I do hope we cross paths again. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Eloise sends you a warm smile before hurrying off.

You send her a genuine smile before you turn your gaze upward to the sky, where faint glimmers of fireworks begin to light up the night. The display added a splash of color to the darkened sky, creating a stark contrast to the opulence of the garden below. 

As you watched the vibrant bursts, your thoughts drifted back to the conversation you had with Eloise, trying to process her comments. Her words lingered in your mind, stirring a mix of curiosity and confusion. 

The idea that whatever is between you and Arthur might actually convey something deeper, something affectionate, felt almost surreal given the dynamics between you two and your perspective on your relationship with him.

Perhaps Abigail was right; the more you spent time with Arthur, the more you learned about him and saw him in a new light. What had once seemed like mere pretense or forced partnership now hinted at a connection that transcended your initial expectations. 

The way he moved, the way he spoke, the moments of unguarded sincerity—it all started to paint a different picture. The possibility that these moments could be more than just part of the act began to take root, stirring a blend of curiosity and apprehension within you.

You quickly down your drink before setting the empty glass on the table.

Suddenly, a rough hand wrapping around your wrist jolts you out of your thoughts and you turn to see Arthur who all but tugged you along behind him. 

You let out a scowl. “Hey! What the-”

Arthur glanced over his shoulder, a mix of amusement and determination on his face. “Come on, we just caught wind that the Mayor’s gotten somethin’ from Cornwall. Dutch reckons we oughta figure out what it is, make sure we ain’t missin’ nothin’ crucial.”

“And you need me because?” You asked with slight irritation as he continued to pull you along.

Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice taking on a low, firm tone. “I need you to keep watch, and your lock-pickin’ skills could come in handy… ‘sides, you’re my wife don’t forget.” He added with a teasing smirk. 

“Can’t have you wanderin’ off by yourself lookin’ like I’ve neglected you. That wouldn’t reflect too well on me now, would it?”

You shot him a glare, yanking your wrist free from his grip. “Could’ve just asked me”

Arthur’s lips twitched with a hint of a smirk. “You looked so wrapped up in the fireworks, darlin’, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

You bit back a retort, your frustration mingling with a begrudging understanding of his point.  “Don’t call me that,” you said, a hint of irritation in your voice at the use of the nickname. 

Arthur raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly. “Alright, sweetheart. Try to keep up now.”

Trailing closely behind Arthur as you followed the servant, you effortlessly weaved through the spectators, who were too engrossed in watching the fireworks to notice you. 

The servant circled around to the side of the house and ascended a small set of steps leading out of the garden. He paused briefly to engage in a conversation with someone before slipping inside through a side door.

The both of you followed cautiously, making sure to stay out of sight. Inside, you overheard the man berating a maid before he made his way up the stairs, retracing your steps to the upper levels where you had previously been.

Just before reaching the landing, Arthur raises his hand, halting you in your tracks. He peers over the edge of the wall, watching as the servant enters the locked room, heads to a desk, and inserts a key into a drawer to place the letter inside. The servant then disappears further into the room, the sound of a door closing signaling that it is time for you and Arthur to make your move.

Arthur moves first, effortlessly slipping inside through the wide-open door left by the servant. You quickly scan the area to ensure it's clear before following him.

He makes his way over to the desk and tugs at the drawer, only to find it locked. Grabbing a letter opener from the table, he attempts to pry it open. You watch with amusement as he grunts in frustration, struggling to get it to budge.

“Honestly, watching you fumble with that is almost painful,” you remarked, making Arthur roll his eyes and throw up his hands in a gesture that clearly invited you to take over. With a sigh, you stepped in, gently nudging him aside before kneeling down to get eye-level with the lock.

Pulling a pin from your updo, your hair falls loosely over your back, leaving your style in a half-up, half-down look. You insert the pin into the lock, and after a few moments of fumbling, a triumphant smile spreads across your face at the satisfying click of the lock opening.

You stand back up and look over at Arthur, giving him a smug smile when you catch him staring. You raise an eyebrow, and he quickly clears his throat, shifting his gaze away as if caught in the act of something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

"I, uh, never seen you with your hair down before," he comments before he can think twice, his voice trailing off as he leans over the drawer, a hint of color creeping into his cheeks. 

"Nice work," he adds, his eyes momentarily meeting yours before darting away.

You raise an eyebrow at his flustered demeanor, the corner of your mouth twitching in amusement, “I’m glad you approve.” 

You watch as he sifts through the drawer's contents until his hands close around a book with a piece of paper inside. He briefly reads the paper, nods, and then tears it in half, slipping the pieces into his suit pocket.

“You got it?” 

“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” he replies, glancing around making sure no one is watching before heading out the door with you following closely behind

Just as you were about to move down the stairs, the creaking sound of someone coming up halted both of your tracks. Without warning, Arthur grabbed you, pushing you gently but firmly against the wall beside the staircase, his body pressing close to yours. His arms caged around the sides of your head, creating a tight, protective barrier.

The sudden proximity left you acutely aware of his body against yours, his chest nearly brushing yours as his arms trapped you in place.

His gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race even faster. His brow furrowed slightly as if he were struggling to control a rush of emotions.

The closeness had clearly caught both of you off guard, the charged atmosphere between you almost palpable. His breath came in short, controlled bursts, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he struggled to maintain his composure.

As he held you there, his expression softened just a fraction, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath his usually guarded demeanor. His voice, though still firm, carried a hint of concern as he leaned close to whisper, "Just stay still and quiet.”

The proximity of his breath against your ear made the moment feel even more intimate, amplifying the unexpected connection between you. The closeness, once marked by animosity, now seemed charged with a different kind of tension—one that was both electrifying and confusing.

As you stood there, the boundaries between duty and emotion blurred, and the shared space between you felt charged with unspoken understanding and vulnerability.

His eyes, usually hard with resolve or irritation, softened as they locked with yours. There was a softness in his gaze, a flicker of something raw and unguarded.

The emotion he held in his eyes made you reconsider the hostility that had defined your interactions. In that moment, the anger and resentment seemed to fade, replaced by a deeper, more complex understanding of the man standing so close to you.

The sound of footsteps drawing nearer to the top of the stairs heightened the urgency of the moment and Arthur’s gaze shifted to you once more.

One of his arms lowered from the wall behind you, and he placed his hand softly at the back of your neck. His touch lingered without applying too much pressure. You felt a shiver at the contact of his hand on your neck, the warmth of his touch sending an unexpected jolt of emotion through you, bringing a surge of feelings you had been trying to suppress all night.

The gentle warmth of his hand contrasted sharply with the intensity of his gaze, creating a palpable connection that seemed to heighten the gravity of your precarious situation.

Your heart pounded as you met his intense gaze, which held a rare blend of sincerity and vulnerability that was almost disarming.

“You trust me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with a sincerity that cut through the tension of the moment.

You hesitated, the weight of his question hanging between you. The proximity of his body and the depth of his gaze left you momentarily breathless. “Why should I?” you whispered back, your voice betraying a mix of defiance and vulnerability.

Arthur’s eyes never left yours as he leaned in closer. “Because right now, it’s the only way we’re getting out of this,” he replied, his tone resolute but gentle.

In that charged silence, the dynamics of your relationship were shifting. You felt the usual barriers between you—formed by past conflicts and mutual distrust—began to dissolve, replaced by an unspoken understanding that was both electrifying and comforting. The anger and rivalry giving way to a fragile trust and an unexpected tenderness. 

With the footsteps slowly growing nearer, you saw a flicker of sincerity in his eyes that made you question your own doubts. You nodded slightly, trying to steady your breath. “Alright,” you whispered.

Arthur's lips curved into a faint smile, a mixture of relief and determination. “You gotta say it, sweetheart,” he urged softly.

Your mouth curled into a slight smirk as you looked up at him, your heart racing with a blend of anxiety and anticipation. “I trust you,” you said, the words feeling like a pact forged in the heat of the moment.

In a quick, decisive motion, he leans in and presses a firm, purposeful kiss to your lips, filled with urgency. The initial touch is electrifying, but as the kiss deepens, it becomes a release of suppressed feelings, a flood of emotions long held in check.

The kiss is fervent and consuming, each moment stretching out as if to make up for lost time. His lips are warm and insistent against yours, and there’s a raw, desperate quality to the way he kisses you. It feels as though every emotion he’s been holding back is being poured into this single, intense connection.

Your own lips respond with equal fervor, the kiss becoming a mutual surrender to the feelings that have been building between you. The world around you fades into the background, the only reality being the overwhelming sensation of his kiss. 

Arthur’s hand that had been pressed firmly against the wall, now frame your face with a gentleness that contrasts with the intensity of the kiss. His grip is both tender and possessive, as if he’s anchoring you to him, unwilling to let go.

The sound of someone clearing their throat suddenly jolts you back to reality. 

A servant, caught off guard by the intimate display before him, stood at the top of the stairs. His eyes widened in surprise, clearly unprepared for the passionate exchange unfolding before him.

You and Arthur break the kiss, though the intensity of the moment lingers in the charged air between you. With a quick, shared glance, you and Arthur both adjust your demeanor, the brief intimacy giving way to the reality of the mission.

The man, realizing he has intruded on a private and critical moment, clears his throat, clearly flustered at having walked in on the intimate scene before him, face flushing with embarrassment. "I-I’m sorry to interrupt, but this area is restricted to guests unless otherwise accompanied,” he stammers.

Arthur’s eyes narrow slightly, but his expression quickly returns to a more controlled demeanor. He gives the servant a nod of acknowledgment. “Sorry ‘bout that, partner. Seems my wife and I took a wrong turn and found ourselves in the wrong spot. We were just about to head on out.”

You, still caught in the afterglow of the kiss, straighten yourself and try to regain your composure. The abrupt interruption leaves you with a swirl of mixed emotions—embarrassment, irritation, and a lingering sense of affection. You cast a quick glance at Arthur, who responds with a subtle nod, signaling that it's time to move on.

Still visibly flustered, the servant offers a hurried apology, stepping aside with a rigid posture and a face flushed a deep shade of red. He tries to give you both space as you and Arthur hurry down the stairs, the charged atmosphere from the kiss still lingering between you. The abrupt return to reality sharpens your sense of urgency.

Arthur takes a deep breath, stepping back as his gaze meets yours for a moment longer. He opens his mouth to say something but hesitates before speaking again. “We should get a move on and find Dutch and the rest ‘em.”

You noticed his hesitation but decided to brush it off, nodding in agreement. “Sure, let’s see what’s next. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

You find Dutch, Hosea, and Bill on the first-floor balcony. 

“Ah, there you are!” Dutch exclaims, a smile on his face. He then turns to Arthur. “Find anything?”

Arthur gives a nod and taps his chest where he’s tucked the letter. “I think so.”

“Great. I think we’re done here.”

The four of you move to follow Dutch, briefly exchanging information with Hosea and Bill. Hosea mentions a potential robbery job targeting a big city bank, outlining the possible opportunities involved. You share what you’ve gathered earlier about a stagecoach expected to pass through Lemoyne in the next few weeks and the valuable jewels and cash it carries.

Dutch, Hosea, and Bill push past the front entrance, walking ahead. Just before you can follow, Arthur calls your name and gently grabs your arm, pulling you aside.

In the quiet corridor, away from the others, you face him. His eyes are a mixture of resolve and something else you can’t quite place. “Listen, I, uh…,” he trails off, his voice low, seeming to wrestle with his words for a moment before finally meeting your gaze. 

Your heart races, expecting him to address what happened between you earlier and the emotions that followed. 

Instead, Arthur’s tone is hesitant and detached. “‘Bout what happened earlier… I don’t want you thinkin’ it meant more than it did. We can’t afford to get all wrapped up in nothin’ personal.”

His dismissal hits you like a cold wave.

You had hoped for some acknowledgment of the shared moment, perhaps a sign that it meant something to him. Instead, his words feel like a sharp rebuff, making you question everything you thought you understood about what happened tonight.

“What are you talking about?” you demand, trying to mask the hurt in your voice. Your frustration and anger boil over. 

Arthur’s gaze falters for a moment before he regains his composure. He runs a hand over his face, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I just don’t think—” he begins, but his voice trails off as he lets out a frustrated sigh. 

He steps back, clearly distancing himself. “Look–I can’t offer you anything more than what we have. Let’s just focus on ending this job and not let personal feelings complicate things.”

You scoff, feeling the sting of his words. Personal feelings? 

“Right, so all that back there was just for show, was it? Just keeping up appearances?”

Arthur’s expression falters, and he hesitates. He opens his mouth to respond but closes it again, his frustration evident as he struggles to find the right thing to say. 

He turns to you, his expression now seeming emotionless and cold. “I didn’t mean to make it seem like nothin’ mattered. It’s just… I’m not tryin’ to make things too complicated. It’s best to keep things straightforward right now.”

The words and his tone cuts through you like a knife, the brief connection you shared now feels like a cruel tease, an illusion of intimacy shattered by the harsh reality.

His coldness is a stark contrast to the warmth you felt moments before, leaving you grappling with a mix of hurt and frustration. 

What started as mutual disdain had evolved into something more complex, yet now it feels like it's spiraling back into that familiar animosity.

You’d hoped that beneath the hostility and barbed comments, the genuine connection hinted at earlier tonight might bridge the gap between your conflicting dynamic. But now, it feels as if his rejection is pulling you back to square one—a place locked in an endless cycle of arguments and misunderstandings.

The idea that the warmth of those moments might have been nothing more than a strategic move or a fleeting distraction makes you question if there was ever truly a chance for something different between you two.

God, how naive you were to think there could be a sliver of something more between you and Arthur.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to focus on the task ahead. You push aside the personal turmoil, resolving to keep your interactions with Arthur as they were before—distant and guarded. 

With a blank expression masking the tumultuous emotions roiling beneath, you reply, “Fine. Let’s just get this night over with and move on. I’ll keep any ‘personal feelings’ out of the way if that makes it better for you.”

You turn away, forcing yourself not to say anything further that might reveal your feelings. As you do, you didn't miss the brief flash of hurt and sadness in Arthur’s expression before he quickly masks it with his usual stoic demeanor.

Finally rejoining the others, you enter the stagecoach and take your seat from before. Arthur takes his place beside you, the space between you charged with unspoken words and lingering hurt. 

The rift between the two of you feels even more pronounced, a painful reminder of what might have been overshadowed by the harsh reality of your circumstances.

Hosea and Dutch, seated across from you, seem to be blissfully unaware of the personal turmoil that has unfolded between you and Arthur, their conversation flowing naturally as they discuss the next steps of the gang’s plans.

The stagecoach rolls forward, and you turn to look out the window, drowning yourself in the passing scenery. The kiss and its aftermath now feel like an unspoken wound, deepening the complexity of your already fraught relationship and leaving you to grapple with the emotional fallout alone.

A/N: Okay so that ending was definitely not a happy one. After exploring where the story might go and experimenting more with the writing, I've decided that I mighttttt just make a Part 2, which might or might not include some smut hehe... So please stay tuned!

Thanks again for reading!

Read Part Two Here

[akaakeis]

home. -- sakusa k.

synopsis : sakusa kiyoomi and yn have been dating for some time now, with kiyoomi dedicating time to his volleyball team and yn dedicating time to their education. in their final year of university, however, they need to travel for a semester to fulfill a credit requirement for their degree. finally, they come back home.

wc : 1661 .ᐟ

gn!reader x sakusa kiyoomi (2nd person)

notes//cw : i'm kinda following the american school system for this since i'm not familiar with any other school system!! (like the months that school runs, when semesters end, that type of thing),, this is msby sakusa so it's like... 2019,, reader is a university student,, reader is implied to be living with sakusa (but this isn't explicitly stated),, kinda sad in the beginning,, fluffy ending,, HEAVILY projecting onto yn with any parts describing how she feels oops,, NOT proofread again,, i was inspired to write this when i heard 'coming home' by beabadoobee!!

January 6th, 2019.

you sit on your bed and open your laptop with a sigh, reading through your class schedule for this upcoming semester. this is your final semester, ever, and it's finally starting to sink in as you read through your schedule. to fulfill a requirement for your degree, you'll have to travel this semester to take your classes. the classes were, unfortunately, unavailable at your own university. you knew you would have to at some point, but it's just awful that you'll have to be away for so long. a quiet thump can be heard as you close your laptop and put it to the side.

rustling can be heard outside of the bedroom as sakusa comes in with a package that was, presumably, just delivered to the front door.

"hey, what's wrong?" he asks immediately, eyes scanning over your face with a slight frown. he can tell from your expression that you're stressed about something.

"mm.. nothing, come sit down, omi. i gotta tell you something." you say, your voice soft and slightly sad. he obliges you, putting down the package on the dresser and sitting next to you on the bed. he looks at you attentively.

you take a deep breath and start to explain the situation. "...so, for this semester, i'll be traveling for my classes. i'll be staying a couple hours away."

sakusa's breath hitches for a moment before he lets out a quiet sigh. "that's okay, you'll do amazing. i'm sure of it, yn." he says, his voice resembling something of reassurance, though he seems a bit upset himself.

you offer him a slight smile, gingerly taking his hand into yours. "it'll be okay. i'll be back in may," you say softly, running your thumb over the back of his hand.

he nods slightly, giving you a slight smile back. he gives your hand a quick squeeze. "yeah. when do you leave?"

"in a week," you reply.

who knew that week would go by in the blink of an eye? it had felt like a mere hour.

January 13th, 2019.

the two of you sit in the car, him in the driver's seat and you in the passenger seat. you quietly squeeze his free hand, keeping your eyes on the road. he was driving you to your new dorm.

it was a two hour long car ride, which both of you spent in silence. you were both enjoying each other's presence while you still could.

the car gradually comes to a stop in front of your new dorm. it's a huge building, and there are numerous people outside, hauling things inside. you assume they're all moving in for the semester as well.

"come on, i'll help you bring in your stuff," sakusa says softly, lightly nudging you.

it takes about an hour, but you and sakusa managed to bring in all of your things and set up all the essential things. you're both seated on your dorm's bed now, not wanting the moment end, for him to go back home. you lean against his shoulder, holding onto his hand.

"i'm really gonna miss you," you whisper.

"i'll miss you too," he says back softly, gently running his thumb over the back of your hand. "it'll be okay. we can call and text whenever."

before either of you realize it, it's already 10:00 at night, and sakusa needs to go home. he has practice tomorrow, after all. with that, the night draws to a close, and the bed feels empty. you're homesick already.

January 14th, 2019.

it's your first day back to school, and unfortunately you have a morning class... at 7:00 am. aside from the fact that you suffered while trying to get up early enough to prepare yourself for the day, the class went smoothly.

everything felt like routine throughout the day as you went from class to class, listening to the lectures and taking notes. this continued until you headed back to your dorm, kicking off your shoes and dropping onto your bed. you had to forcibly stop yourself from getting up to go look for kiyoomi, because you knew he wasn't there. oh, how awful it is to be homesick.

the days seemed to drawl on and blur together as you went to day after day of classes. you managed to text sakusa every once in a while, but he always seemed to be a little busy. since he seemed busy, you obviously didn't want to bother him, so you stopped frequently messaging him.

the homesick feeling never went away. you felt as if you would do anything just to be with him. you felt so far away in your dorm.

March 20, 2019.

it took a while, but you finally felt less homesick. today was sakusa's birthday, and you had something planned. you had coordinated a plan with the rest of sakusa's team to get them to have a celebratory dinner in the city, so that you could surprise him and wish him a happy birthday in person.

the day took an agonizingly long time to pass by, but you eventually made it through all of your classes for the day, heading straight home to prepare for the dinner.

you get dressed nicely for the birthday dinner, wearing semi-formal attire and nice shoes. it's a really short walk from your dorm, so you arrive there quickly. to your surprise, however, the entire volleyball team is already there, including kiyoomi. you immediately rush over to him, hugging him from behind.

he's startled by the sudden hug, but realizes it's you, putting his hand on top of yours. 

"happy birthday, omi. i'm so happy that i'm able to celebrate with you." you say softly, just loud enough for him to hear. the entire team, but particularly atsumu, watches smugly as they see sakusa's face soften over you.

dinner passes by in a blur, but then suddenly, one of the waitresses bring out a slice of cake, placing it in front of sakusa. there's a lit candle on top. everyone present at the table sings happy birthday to sakusa, cheering as he blows out the candle. it's clear that he's extremely happy about all the gestures that have been done for him, despite his more stoic demeanor. those who are familiar with him can tell he's happy.

"thank you, yn. i'm so happy to see you in person... i miss you," he says quietly, gently squeezing your hand.

"of course, omi... i wouldn't miss celebrating your birthday for the world. i miss you too," you say back, offering him a soft smile.

with long, drawn out goodbyes from everyone on the team, the night came to a close. the team drove back home, and you went back to your dorm, knocking out. it felt comforting to see kiyoomi again. it had been a while. in about two months, you would finally be able to say, "i'm home."

May 28, 2019.

today was the day. you could finally go back home. you'd be lying if you said you were more thrilled about the fact that you're finally getting your degree than the fact that you're finally able to go home and see kiyoomi. you packed up everything in your dorm as quickly as possible, heading for the train home. 

the ride home seemed to go by faster than usual, passing by in what felt like 20 minutes.

you walk home quickly, eager to see kiyoomi. once you get to the front door, you quietly unlock it. you open the door slowly to prevent it from squeaking, and you leave your luggage outside so that he doesn't hear the sound of it rolling around as you enter the house. as you close the front door, a quiet click is heard, which you silently curse at yourself for.

you can hear the sound of running water in the kitchen, along with the sound of a plastic bag being rustled around. you peek into the kitchen, trying to see what kiyoomi is doing. he's, apparently, cleaning the kitchen. he's taken the plastic bag out of the trash can and replaced it with a new one. the full trash bag sits on the floor, waiting to be taken out. by the kitchen sink, you can see kiyoomi peacefully washing the dishes. you let out a soft sigh, coming up behind him quietly, peeking out from his side to see what he's washing.

"i'm home," you say softly, causing kiyoomi to turn around, startled by the sudden voice behind him. his face immediately softens upon seeing you. he grabs the dish towel, quickly wiping his hands dry. 

he engulfs you in a hug, his arms snaking around your waist to hold you close. "welcome back," he says quietly, burying his face in your hair.

"let me help you," you say, lifting your head to look up at him, loosening the hug. you let go of him, grabbing the bag of trash that had been sitting on the floor. "i'll take this out, and i'll be back to help wash the dishes."

he smiles slightly, nodding as he watched you walk out with the bag of trash in hand. you step foot out of the house, tossing the bag into the trash bin and heading back inside. you head back to the kitchen, lightly nudging him to the side of the sink so that you can help him wash the dishes. 

the two of you clean up the kitchen in silence, just enjoying each other's presence yet again. once all of the night's chores are done, however, the two of you head to bed almost immediately. kiyoomi holds you close to him, keeping his face in your hair and muttering, "i missed you a lot. glad you're home."

you feel your heart sputter at his words, and you smile slightly, bringing up a hand to play with his hair. "me too. good thing i didn't get home late."

notes :

₊ ⊹ we're all gonna collectively ignore the photos i used because i don't have the energy to actually make it look good... thanks !!

₊ ⊹  yeah i have no idea how university works in case that wasn't made painfully clear at the beginning sorry </3

₊ ⊹ just pretend it makes sense i guess, cause i was NOT about to research how to make that part of the fic make sense 😋

₊ ⊹ not proofread as per usual (are we surprised atp)... please lmk if you find an error though !!

₊ ⊹ after not releasing anything for like a week cause of like everything in my life deciding to gang up on me... WE ARE SO BACK 🗣️‼️ (lie)

₊ ⊹ i randomly got this idea when i was listening to all the songs on bea's new album... honestly i have ideas that i got from a bunch of the songs so stay tuned!! i'll probably write some more oneshots based off her new songs

₊ ⊹ my motivation peaked and then fell within like an hour but i pulled through to get this done😭

₊ ⊹ any other works can be found on my masterlist! (it's pretty small at the moment since i just started though!!)

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

🏷️ : @iiwaijime + @bokukos <3

[savannahsdeath]

Can we get something where Ellie is injured and when reader takes care of her she feels embarrassed bc she doesn't want to seem weak. But then she like starts crying about "not being strong enough" and just have some cute fluff from reader <33

AHHHZHSBHX i love writing fluff sm like its so comforting !!

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: minors safe i think?? blood, crying

writers note: its kinda short n all but omghauzb i love ellie sm i need to give her a biiiiggg hug and just never let go like😓🩷my poor baby:(

you intensively listened to the sharp ticking of the clock, waiting for something that'd break the cycle. for someone, actually. for your precious girlfriend ellie, which had a patrol somewhere around jackson. you stayed quiet, listening intently for any signs of her. the sounds of the clock in the background seemed to taunt you, like a reminder of how much time was passing and you had to wait even longer to hear news from her.

it was something about midnight when she finally came knocking on the door, completely soaked in freezing rain. her hair was wet, her face drenched, she looked miserable. you rushed to get a towel to help her dry her hair and body.

when you were done you wrapped your hands around her. she hissed and you instantly pulled away, giving her a pout of pure worry and concern. your eyes inspected her body, without effect. your hands reached out for her top, wanting to take it off and look for any injuries, but she firmly gripped your wrists.

"babe, stop." she said, and maybe you'd listen to her, if her voice didn't sound like begging. and if she begged, she was hiding something.

you freed your hands and rolled her shirt up, revealing a nasty wound on her side. it looked like bullet scratch and it was a miracle - a few millimeters to the left and the shot would pierce her waist.

ellie mumbled a quiet 'fuck...' as her attempt to hide it from you failed. she did her best to look unfazed and pretend to not be in pain, knowing it'd only add to the embarrassment.

ellie sighed and pulled your hands away from the wound, pushing you back. she took a deep breath, the pain evident on her face, and rolled her shirt back down.

"it's fine, i'm fine." she falsely reassured, her shaky voice betraying her attempt to sound tough. she forced a weak smile, trying to play down your worries, but you could tell she wasn't okay.

"ellie, you're bleeding!" you shook your head, your eyes darting back and forth from her wound and her face.

you dragged her to the bedroom, taking a first aid kit from the bathroom on the way. she stayed silent as you softly but forcefully sat her on the bed and started preparing everything.

"this will... sting a bit." you warned her before looking at the disinfectant. you knew it'll do way more than just 'sting a bit'.

ellie avoided looking at you, hating how vulnerable the whole situation makes her feel. she gritted her teeth as you started cleaning the wound, trying to maintain her composure as best as she could. you could hear her breathing get heavier as the pain began to set in, but she was too proud to let you see her cry.

as you continued to work, she looked away from you, ashamed that you had to fix her mistakes. she knew she should have been more careful and hated how weak she appeared in front of you.

"i'm sorry for making you do this." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

ellie sucked in a sharp breath and clenched the sheets as you applied the disinfectant. a wave of pain washed over her, but she managed to stay silent and hold back a scream.

you finished cleaning the wound and began to bandage it, being careful not to hurt her any further. as you worked, you heard ellie sniffle as she struggled to hold back her emotions. you looked up and saw that ellie is watching you with a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment. her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and she was biting her lip to hold back a wail of agony and relief.

"thank you..." she whispered, her voice breaking.

"don't mention it." you said, your eyes full of sympathy for your suffering girlfriend. you gave her a reassuring smile, best you could manage as her pain hurt you too.

ellie took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as the pain subsided, but she couldn't hold back her tears any longer. she buried her face in her hands as she sobbed bitterly, her whole body shaking with emotion.

you gently wrapped her in a hug, holding her tight to give her some comfort. you whispered reassuring words in her ear, trying to calm her down.

"it's alright- sh, shhh..." you stroked her hair in an attempt to provide some solace. "i'll always be here for you, love."

her arms desperately seeked for support in your body, as her tears slowly dropped and soaked into your shirt.

"how can i keep you safe if i can't even take care of myself?" she mumbled, her voice muffled as her face was pressed against your chest.

you continued to hold ellie in your arms, trying to provide her with the comfort and reassurance she needed.

"you're always taking care of me, and now it's my turn to take care of you." you whispered, gently stroking her hair.

ellie looks up at you, her eyes full of gratitude. you feel her embrace tighten as she clings to you for support.

"my strong, amazing els." you smile, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

you held ellie for what seemed like an eternity, neither of you wanting to let go anytime soon. as you continued to cradle her in your arms, you could feel her warm tears running down your chest, now even beneath your shirt.

you felt her begin to calm down, her sobs easing up and her grip on you gradually loosening. suddenly, she pressed her body against you even tighter, almost like she was afraid of losing you after you've provided her with such comfort.

"i love you." she whispered, burying her head in your chest.

you continued gently stroking ellie's hair, unable to stop smiling at her confession.

"i love you too." you whispered back, as if you just shared a really important secret with her, hugging her tightly.

you felt her relax, her body going limp as she nestled into your chest. it felt like time has stopped, and the two of you together in the moment was all that mattered.

you pressed your forehead against ellie's, looking deep into her green eyes.

"always, forever." you added, before sharing your first kiss in a long while.

[readerthatreadsss]

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Part 3: The Throuple Fantasy

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying this series as much as I enjoy writing it. don't forget to leave a like and comment down below if you have any questions. Enjoy!

Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜

3.8k words

It was time for dinner. Tomorrow was my day off, which meant I had to go on a mission with Wade. He has been killing people for money long before I met him. Vanessa wanted me to go join him so I could be some sort of side kick. I still don't understand why, since that motherfucker can't die. 

A few hours has passed since I was drooling over Logan and I was in the kitchen preparing dinner as I always do. Tonight's menu was spaghetti and meatballs. The rich aroma filled the air as I mixed the pasta with the tomato sauce, and I couldn't help but think it would be nice to have some company. I wiped my hands on a towel and walked over to Logan's door, hoping he'd join me for dinner. He'd been in there for hours since our little interaction, and I was curious to see if he was in the mood to talk—or eat.

Just as I raised my hand to knock, the door swung open, and there he was. We stood there for a moment, and I couldn't help but notice the stark height difference between us.

Logan towered over me, his presence as imposing as ever, and I had to tilt my head slightly to meet his eyes. He had that rugged look about him, all raw strength and brooding intensity, and it was impossible not to feel small next to him.

"Uh, hey," I said, a bit flustered by how close we were. "I was just about to ask if you wanted to join me for dinner. I'm making spaghetti and meatballs."

Logan raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Dinner, huh?" he replied gruffly. "I could eat."

His tone was nonchalant, but I caught a hint of interest in his eyes as he glanced past me toward the kitchen.

"Alright," he said finally, stepping out into the hallway and towering over me like a mountain. 

I nodded, trying not to seem too eager. "Great! It'll be ready in a few minutes."

I have yet not to come to a conclusion about how I feel about him. Yes, he makes me nervous and flustered, but I'm looking for more than lust, and you guys know that too. Even though Adam lied to me, I still think about him and what we used to have. He was my first, and I loved him. I haven't had any sexual relations since we broke up, and I think that's why I feel a little flustered when I'm so close to Logan or when I meet his eyes. Nonetheless, I don't even think he could like me. From the words that Wade told me about how his one and true love died, he is still feeling pain about it. But, to be honest, Wade can be a little dramatic when it comes to love and such. 

After I finished mixing the meatballs and pasta, I grabbed two plates and served dinner for both Logan and myself. I sat the plates on my four-seat table, across from each other, and he was already sitting down, waiting patiently.

"Thanks," he managed to say when I handed him his plate, a hint of appreciation in his voice despite his usual gruff demeanor.

Before I sat down, I went to the fridge to get something to drink. "Do you want anything to drink?" I asked Logan, holding the fridge door open.

He looked up from his plate, pondering for a moment. "Got any beer?" he asked, his tone neutral.

I nodded, spotting a couple of bottles on the shelf. "Yeah, I've got a few. You want one?"

"Sure," he replied, not bothering to elaborate. "Could use something to wash this down."

I grabbed a beer for Logan and a soda for myself, setting them on the table as I took my seat. He cracked open the bottle, taking a long sip before setting it down with a satisfied sigh.

"So, you cook often?" Logan asked, eyeing the meal in front of him.

"Yeah, I find it relaxing," I said, twirling some spaghetti around my fork. "Plus, it's nice to have a homemade meal now and then."

Logan nodded, digging into his food. "Not bad," he grunted, which I took as high praise coming from him.

We ate in companionable silence for a few moments, the clinking of forks against plates being the only sound in the room. It was a surprisingly comfortable silence, and I found myself appreciating his presence, even if he wasn't the most talkative dinner guest.

"So, I have some things I want to talk to you about," I said, waiting for Logan's eyes to meet mine. He looked up from his plate, eyebrows raised, signaling that I had his attention.

I cleared my throat, trying to phrase things correctly. "You know, since you're going to be staying here rent-free for a while, I thought it might be logical for you to help out around here—or maybe find something to do."

Logan leaned back in his chair, taking another sip of his beer. "You want me to get a job?" he asked, his tone neutral, but there was a hint of curiosity.

"Yeah, just to keep busy and maybe contribute a bit," I replied. "But no pressure or anything. Wade might have some ideas, too."

He tilted his head, considering my words. "Wade, huh? What's he got in mind?"

I grinned, excited about the prospect. "Well, wade is in this group called Special Forces. He gets paid to kill bad people and recently, I joined him too. We do a lot of interesting stuff, missions, undercover stuff, travel and you know, things like that. And I think you'd be perfect." I said, meeting his gaze earnestly. 

"You've got the skills, and I know you'd be great at it. Plus, it might be nice to have something to do; keep you out of trouble."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Trouble seems to find me regardless."

"True, but at least this way, you'd have a purpose. And it's not like we have uniforms or anything," I added with a teasing smile.

Logan took another bite of his spaghetti, chewing thoughtfully before nodding. "Alright, i'm in." 

"Great," I replied, feeling a sense of relief that he was open to the idea. 

But little did Violet know that the Wolverine had been looking for jobs all day. 

Who the hell was going to hire a guy with a past like his? All he had were a bunch of scars and a history that scared people off. He'd been looking all day, and every place he walked into just gave him that look—like they knew he didn't belong. He didn't know what this Logan did but from the looks of it, they are all the same.

It's not like he had any real skills they cared about. Sure, he was good in a fight, but telling that to some HR manager wasn't going to get him anywhere. "Can lift heavy stuff and knows how to handle himself in a brawl" wasn't exactly résumé gold.

He'd tried a construction site earlier. They took one look at his hands—probably noticed the calluses or maybe just sensed something off—and told him they were fully staffed. Next was some mechanic shop, but the moment he mentioned his last job was over a decade ago, they practically shoved him out the door.

Logan knew what folks saw when they looked at him. They saw the claws, the rough edges, and the attitude. They didn't see the guy who was just trying to make a living, trying to stay out of trouble. He got it. He'd been through some shit, seen a lot of bad things, and done a few himself. It's not like he could just walk into an interview and tell them he was good with teamwork because he'd saved the world a couple of times.

And here he was, sitting across from Violet, who was looking at him like he had some kind of purpose. Maybe she was right. Maybe Wade had something he could do. But it wasn't just about the money. It was about finding a place where he didn't feel like a monster every damn day.

Maybe being part of a team again could help. Hell, at least they wouldn't care about his past. It might even give him something to fight for—a reason to stick around. Besides, being around Violet wasn't the worst thing either. She had that look in her eyes, like she believed in him, and God knows he could use a bit of that right now.

It was 10 am  when I heard someone at the door. I opened it to see Wade standing there in his suit, looking unusually enthusiastic.

"Oh, Hello Vi!" Wade said, pushing me aside as he walked through the door with a mischievous grin. "We leave in 20 minutes for our undercover mission. And guess what? You're going in as a stripper!"

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Oh, about that... is it okay if Logan joins our team? He needs a job, and I thought this would be perfect."

Wade's eyes widened with excitement. "Logan? My peanut? Fuck yes! Can you imagine him trying to be undercover? It's like asking a grizzly bear to blend in with a flock of pigeons."

I shrugged, closing the door. "He's got the skills, and he needs something to do. Plus, it might be good for him to be part of a team again."

Wade practically bounced on his feet, clearly thrilled. "This is the best news I've heard all week! Logan, you and me, together. My throuple fantasy. This is going to be so much fun!"

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips.

Wade winked, turning to leave. "Tell him to suit up. We've got some serious ass fucking I mean, kicking to do. And you," he added, giving me a once-over with a playful smirk, "better be ready to shake that fine ass of yours. We're gonna make this mission unforgettable."

With that, he skipped out the door, still chuckling to himself, leaving me to break the news to Logan.

I got ready and put on my suit that has been sitting in my closet collecting dust for two months. The suit is sleek and form-fitting. It has a deep V-neck zipper front that accentuates the neckline and is paired with long sleeves and high-cut shorts. The suit is predominantly black with intricate dark purple piping that outlines the contours of my body, adding a touch of elegance, which I really like. I also pair it with knee-high black boots, adorned with multiple straps and buckles that extend from the legs, giving my suit a rugged and battle-ready appearance. The boots seamlessly integrate with the suit's design, maintaining the streamlined look. This was made by one of the scientists at one of the research compounds that I was in when I was working with Strucker. 

As I quickly put my hair up because I don't understand how some of the women in X-men, who I've seen over the years, keep their hair down as they're fighting, I knock on Logan's door.

"Logan, get ready to leave. We are out the door in ten minutes." I said trying to find my phone. 

Where the hell is it? I said to myself as Logan opened the door. He comes out in a yellow and blue suit that I first saw him in. From that time until now, I don't remember him looking so good in it. The way that the upper half of his suit contours his abs and his boobs struggling to pop out of his hard upper chest armor. His huge, veiny, and muscular arms are naked, and his pants cover his legs really nicely. I look at him as if time were in slow motion, and he looks at me but quickly walks into the bathroom. I keep looking for my phone, as he's in there.

He gets out, and I finally find my phone, which was stuffed between the couch cushions. I get my backpack, which is filled with snacks, and my stripper outfit, and I give him a jar of overnight oats.

"Here." I said as I handed him the oats. Holding the other one for myself in my other hand.

" We don't have time to eat here, so we will eat on the way. It's a long drive." I say with a smile. 

He looks at me and mumbles. " Thanks." My eyebrows crunch at his sudden coldness, but I don't say anything about it. We both walked out quickly and I locked my front door.

As we are walking in the hallway, Wade walks out. "Well, well, well. Look at you, Vi," he said, giving me an exaggerated once-over. "If it isn't the fiercest, hottest superhero to ever rock a suit. Seriously, that outfit never stops doing wonders for you."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but smile at his antics. "Wade, we don't have time for this."

He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with amusement as he took in the details of my suit. "Oh, come on. You have to give me a moment to appreciate the masterpiece. The way that black and purple hugs every curve... It's like the suit was made to showcase your ass-kicking potential and your, well, other ASSets."

Logan grumbled something under his breath, clearly not amused by Wade's commentary. "Can we get going now?"

Wade raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'm just hyping up my bestie here."

He paused for a moment, then his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh, is someone jealous?" he teased, looking between Logan and me.

I felt a flush of irritation rise, and I shot Wade a sharp look. "Wade, enough. Is Dopinder here with the taxi?" I snapped, trying to divert the conversation before it could get more uncomfortable.

Wade's grin only widened at my reaction, but he wisely decided to let it go. "Yeah, yeah. Dopinder's waiting outside. Let's move, people! Time to save the day, one sexy superhero at a time."

We walked briskly down the hallway, Wade's playful banter still hanging in the air. Despite the irritation, I couldn't help but wonder why Logan cared so much about Wade's comment. He's never cared before. 

We walked out of the building, and Dopinder was outside with a smile waiting for us. " Hey guys." I walked over to him and hugged him. I pulled back with my hand still lingering on his shoulder. 

" Hi Dopinder. How are you? Did you finally get together with Gita?" Before he could answer, he was interrupted by Wade. 

"Listen, my slender brown friend, I need you to take us to this address, pronto." I rolled my eyes at his interruption. We all got in the taxi, Wade in the front and Logan and me in the back.

The mission was on the other side of the town, and we had two hours ahead of ourselves to endure in the small taxi. I felt my stomach grumble, so I decided I wanted to eat my oats. I tried to open my bag so that I could get my spoon, but the zipper was stuck. After moments of struggling, I finally was able to unzip my bag, and one of my lacy underwear landed on Logan's lap. Logan looked down at the lacy garment, his eyes widening slightly. He picked it up between two fingers, his expression a mix of surprise and mild embarrassment. "Uh, I think this is yours," he said, his voice gruff but with a hint of awkwardness as he handed it back to me.

I snatched the underwear from him, my face flushing with embarrassment. "Thanks," I muttered, quickly stuffing it back into my bag. Wade, of course, didn't miss a beat.

"Well, well, well," Wade said, glancing back at us with a devilish grin. "Looks like things are getting spicy in the back seat! Should we give you two some privacy?"

I shot Wade a glare, trying to regain my composure. "Wade, can you just focus on the mission for once?"

He laughed, turning back to face the front. "Alright, alright." he said, changing the subject to the misson. 

As the taxi continued its journey to the stripper club, I couldn't help but feel a bit of tension again, just like earlier when we were in Hallway. It was eating me up, and I didn't know what to do or think.  

"Okay, Violet, here's the plan," Wade said, pulling his mask up. "You and Logan go in there, work your magic, and seduce Thriller. Get him all hot and bothered, then lure him outside. That's when I'll make my grand entrance and take him down."

He turned to Logan, his tone mock-serious. "And Logan, buddy, your job is to make sure he doesn't pull a Houdini on us. Keep him in one place, but no claws; we don't want to scare him off."

Wade winked at me, adding with a cheeky smile, "Remember, it's showtime, Vi. Make it unforgettable."

I took off my robe. The lack of clothing left me shivering slightly, but I brushed off the sensation. The stripper outfit clung to my curves, a daring ensemble of black lace and sequins designed to catch the light and draw attention. A barely-there bra and a short skirt so short you could see my thong, both adorned with intricate patterns, left little to the imagination. The high heels added a touch of elegance to the provocative attire, making my legs appear longer and more defined. I gave my robe to Wade, and he tossed it inside the taxi car and waved Dopinder off.

I could feel Logan's eyes on me for a second; his gaze was intense and unreadable. 

We both walked inside, and I went to look for Thriller. He is a bald man with dark features who apparently owed some bad people money, and he needed to be shown a lesson. As I scanned around the nightclub, I noticed Logan looking at me. He was standing in front of an exit. He gave me a small nod, looking behind me. I turned around, and there Thriller was, sitting around some other strippers. I took a deep breath before I walked up to them. 

"Hey ladies." I said with a seductive tone and smile. "How about I take your place while you girls get freshened up?" I said, smiling at Thriller while he was practically eating me with his eyes. I felt disgusted. The three girls looked at me with relief as they got up, each giving him a kiss on the cheek. I sat next to him, waiting for him to make a move on me. He placed my hand on my thigh as I smiled at him. Wanting this to be over, I got on top of him and sat on his lap. He wasn't bad-looking; he looked like the off brand version of Jason Statham. As Lady Gaga played in the background, he started kissing me. Honestly, he wasn't a bad kisser, and I didn't mind the smooches. We made out for about 2 minutes when I suggested we go to his car to have sex. He looked at a guy sitting in the bar, and he singled him with his fingers to get up.

"Okay, but my guards have to come with me, sweet heart. I can't risk going out alone." I looked up at the mirror, and there were about ten guards surrounding us. I kept it cool, but I needed to get out of here. "Okay, they can watch." I said with a smirk as I perked my eyelashes at him. He beamed at the idea, feeling his bulge under me. We quickly got up, and he led me outside through the same door that Logan was standing in front of, but he wasn't there anymore. We walked outside and started to walk to his car, but out of nowhere, Wade and Logan showed up. 

Thriller's guards took their guns out and started shooting at Logan and Wade. Thriller hid behind me as the fight was happening, still thinking I was on his side. I didn't move, keeping my cover. As Wade and Logan fought, Wade was slicing their limbs, being super dramatic with it. Logan on the other hand, was making them feel pain by punching his fists into their chests with his claws. I couldn't help but notice the way he fought. I mean, I've never seen him fight before, so I was so intrigued and couldn't look away despite the blood and the yells of the guards. Logan made it look so hot, and the blood splattered on his suit made him look desirable. I didn't know why I was thinking like this. But I didn't mind.

After the fight was over, which lasted like 5 minutes, but watching Logan fight felt like a lifetime. Logan and Wade came walking towards me and Thriller. Thriller took out his gun and aimed it at my head. Everyone froze.

"Don't come any closer, or I will shoot her pretty little head," Thriller threatened. Logan clenched his fist, his eyes darkening with rage. Wade, on the other hand, winked at me. I took that as a sign to use my powers on Thriller. I used my telekinesis to grab his gun, threw it across the alley, and elbowed him in the nose. He looked at me in shock.

"What? You thought I was some weak whore? Think again" I said, walking next to Logan and Wade.

Wade clapped his hands in delight. "Oh, I love it when you show off, Vi! Can we talk about that elbow move? Ten out of ten, would recommend."

Wade glanced at Logan, "See, Wolvie? Told you she's not just a pretty face. She's got the moves, the powers, and the brains. We're like the ultimate team of sexy justice."

Logan just grunted, his eyes still fixed on Thriller, who was nursing his broken nose. "Let's just get this over with," he muttered.

Wade walked up to him and decapitated him with one of his blades. 

As we waited for Dopinder to come back, I felt the cold wind hit my skin, which made my nipples hard and very visible due to the thin fabric. Wade was throwing rocks at the wall, while Logan was across from me, leaning against the brick wall. I looked to my left and saw the limbs of the guards all covered in blood. It made me nauseated. "I'm going to go inside and see if one of the girls can lend me one of their sweaters." I said, looking at Wade. I walked inside and asked one of the girls if they had a sweater that I could use. She took me to where the loss and found was, and I thanked her as she walked away. I found a pair of sweat pants that looked clean, along with a pink zip up jacket. I quickly put the clothes on and headed towards the exit. As I was walking through the crowd, I accidentally bumped into a man. "I'm sorry," I said as I looked up to meet his eyes. He looked at me, recognizing my face as I did his. Fuck, it's Adam. 

Next Part: part 4: Under the surface

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Prompt from stratusworld: Here's an idea characters adopting a child with reader

Neuvillette, Kaveh & Alhaitham, Albedo with GN!Reader

A/N: I decided to go with headcanons instead of writing a full thing because it came more naturally.

Neuvillette

The topic of adoption came up when the both of them were talking about potentially adding a new member to their family. It doesn't matter to him if the child is biologically his or not he's just happy to have his little family with his significant other.

Doesn't care much about the age of the child they choose to adopt as he does his best to research child care for all ages including teens. He's a bit nervous about the adoption, not because he's not prepared to be a father it's more because he doesn't know if he'd get along well with their new family member he is often told he's stiff after all.

He'd be fine with adopting more than one child but he'd rather start with one then have more later.

Does really well as a new father to their adopted child though he makes some mistakes here and there he's willing to learn and that helps the child understand his intentions of being a caring father to them are real. The child ends up adoring Neuvillette wanting to be more like him some day.

Kaveh and Alhaitham

Adoption is discussed once or twice between the three of them as they think about their future together. Alhaitham isn't opposed as he's read up on the subject so he's prepared but Kaveh worries about if he'd be a good enough parent to them. It's up to the both of his partners to calm Kaveh's worries about parenthood before any adoption does happen.

They both would like an older child or perhaps even a teen to adopt because they feel like they can help guide them through their life better than if they were raising someone much younger.

Both prefer to only have one child so they'd adopt accordingly unless some of the kids grew on them.

Their child grows up with a strong support system that supports them on whatever path they decide to pursue.

Albedo

Considers adoption after a long time being with his significant other and he sees everyone else who's paired up starting to have children themselves. He has no problems with having a child that's not biologically his because he likely can't have his own children in the first place due to his origins. Discusses it with his partner as soon as he gets the idea to hear their thoughts.

Has no issues with adopting younger children as he's got experience taking care of Klee but it'll be a learning experience to adopt a baby though he'll be fine he learns fast.

Wouldn't mind adopting multiple children though he's only ever had to deal with one child at a time he thinks they can manage.

His children grow up to be curious about their surroundings and the world they live in. His children also adore him but tend to go to their other parent for things since he's often busy experimenting.

[mackjlee9]

Leon Kennedy Brainrot

Leon's duality as a dom and sub bottom

Warning; extremely self-indulgent, sub/dom leon&reader, riding, dumbification, slight bondage, creampie, sir kink, slight pet play (reader is referred to as puppy/mutt like once), slight degradation, nipple play, dry humping, cockwarming. Re6 Leon did not leave my mind while writing this, but any Leon works.

Masterlist.

Resident Evil 4

next part »»»

Dom!Bottom!Leon is a little mean, honestly, but in the best way possible.

He's the kind of dom bottom that would look down on you as he rides your cock, enjoying watching you writhe underneath his weight, using you like nothing but a toy to satisfy his needs.

Your hands are tied to the headboard of the bed to prevent you from touching him, and he's in love with the view, his blue eyes dark and clouded with pleasure, smirking at the sight of your tears, hearing your whines and whimpers managed to turn him on even more, clenching around your cock and making you cry out his name.

He scoffs, pushing his blond hair back, leaning down to hold himself up with his hands on either side of your head.

"Such a pathetic, mutt, you can't stop cumming inside me, can you? You fucking love filling me with your cum," you held back a whine when you felt how your cum dripped down your cock, Leon's eyes staring into yours, "Answer me."

He mutters holding your face in his hand, making you groan as you blink away the tears gathering in your eyes.

"Y-yes, sir... Love cumming inside you, you feel so good a-around my cock, and I can't hold back," Leon sighed content, his tight and wet walls clenching around your oversensitive cock, "Leon..."

You whined, pulling on the restraints around your wrists and he chuckled, his hips raising and lowering really slowly, teasing and edging you, feeling your cock throbbing inside him.

"Yes~?" He let out, his hips grinding back and forth down on yours.

"Please... Ride me..." Leon released a quiet hum, leaning closer to your face.

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you, puppy," you took a deep breath and got rid of the shame you got, telling him exactly what wanted to hear.

"Please, ride my stupid mutt cock, milk me dry, and call me your dumb puppy, please Leon~," a shiver ran down Leon's spine, and his mind became foggy, licking his lips, moving back and holding himself up in your abdomen, seeing the bruises and scratches he previously left.

He took a deep breath and ignored the burning feeling in his thighs, making sure to call you his and only his every time you came inside him.

Sub!Bottom!Leon is such a whiny and needy baby.

He tends to be well-behaved 'cause he can't really handle your punishments, they're too much for his sensitive body.

He's too shy to admit it, but he loves it when you play with his chest, whether it'll be your mouth or fingers stimulating his nipples, he can't resist. He knows you love his body, but there's something obvious when it comes to his chest and he can't help but moan your name and pull on your hair when you abuse his perky nipples.

He has even considered getting nipple piercings after you used nipple clamps on him, that night was damn crazy.

Pretty boy likes to hump you, your foot, your thigh, even humping on your cock and abdomen, and he gets off on your scent, his nose pressed against your neck or bulge as he lets out loud whimpers.

He's really good and obedient, but there are times when he really, really wants to feel you pounding him and he'll shyly come up behind you while you're busy working on your computer. He'll wrap his arms around you and whisper in your ear, "Can I cockwarm you, sir?"

And how can you deny that sad puppy dog look in his eyes?

However, Leon has a hard time staying still while he waits for you to finish your work, his hands trembling as he holds onto your shoulders, quiet moans leaving his lips, being muffled against your neck.

At some point you wanted to tease him a bit, see how long he could hold on before breaking the rule, but he just cried out your name.

"Pl-please, don't... I'm gonna c-cum if you... Keep doing that, sir, I wanna... Be good for you, sir~," damn, hearing his shaky voice while his walls clenched around you made it hard for you to keep focused on what you were doing.

"Fucking hell..." You muttered, pushing the chair you were sitting on back and stood up, pinning Leon to the wall, watching attentively how he threw his head back, his back arched and his thighs trembled under your hold, "Fuck, baby, you make it hard for me to control myself when you're this fucking sexy and adorable," he let out a sob as he held onto you, placing a messy kiss on your lips as he held you close to his body.

"Fuck me hard, please~... Make me dumb on your cock, sir~."

[reidsaurora]

"Trick, No Treat" ~ D. Morgan

Summary: When Derek and Reader get stuck on the haunted house ride at the fair, they play a game of Twenty Questions to calm Reader down. Little do they know… they were the answer to Derek's question all along.

Pairing: Derek Morgan x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,129

Content Warning: very mild swearing, mentions of haunted house related things, mentions of food, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i think i forgot how to write Derek fics because this lowkey sucks akshshddhh

Originally Written: 10/29/2023 through 10/31/2023

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Halloweek masterlist can be found here!

Your heart raced as you assessed the situation, panic running rampant through your veins.

It was dark and cold, and the smell of carnival food, while once pleasant, was overwhelming your senses and making you nauseous. The thumping in your chest sped up with every passing second that the ride didn't move again.

As if he could read your thoughts, Derek reached over to your side of the cart, nudging your fingers with his own. "You can hold onto me if it'll make you feel better," he said, the words never judgemental, but instead sympathetic. "I don't bite," he chuckled.

If you weren't already embarrassed from your apparent scaredy-cat behavior, you might've taken him up on the offer. "I'm okay, just… just talk to me?"

You might fight serial killers and terrorists for a living, but dammit if you weren't afraid of the dark. It didn't help that he'd somehow convinced you to go on the 'The Creep Show,' where a demon had jump-scared you moments before the lights went out and the ride froze.

"About what?" he asked, fingers still brushing yours in the dark.

"Anything not related to clowns, demons, dolls, or Jason Voorhees," you said, the words meant to be lighthearted but still managing to come out shaky.

Derek's breath was warm against your skin as he settled in closer to you. Chatter had begun to pick up in the dark area, everyone no doubt discussing what had happened mid-ride. If it hadn't been for the circumstances, you might've felt his presence unnerving, given your long standing crush on the man, but tonight, the heat of his words and the sound of his breathing managed to bring you a tad bit of comfort in all the chaos.

"Okay… uh, tell me your favorite color."

The question caught you off guard, and while it wasn't visible in the pitch-black space, you shot a confused look in the direction of his voice. "What?"

"You said to talk. So I'm asking you a question. Favorite color?" he asked again, this time stating it almost as a command.

"Um… purple," you answered, curious to know where he was going with this.

He paused for a moment, as if to think about his response. After a few seconds, he spoke again. "Okay, I'm thinking of something that reminds me of the color purple. Now you have to guess."

Derek's game seemed a bit childish to you, but you supposed it was a distraction regardless. "Um, is it alive?" A strategy you'd picked up as a child, to weed out the animals and humans from the inanimate objects.

"Yes," he answered, a chuckle settling on the tip of his tongue.

Your minds raced to think of all the things it could be. "Okay, is it a person?"

"Yes."

A small wave of jealousy came over you, despite your lack of confessing the crush you had on him. Still, you managed to take a deep breath, reminding yourself that it could be any number of persons. "Are they a celebrity?"

"Depends on your definition of famous."

A confused crease formed between your brows, though it was invisible in the non-existent light of the broken ride. "Okay… are they pretty?"

"The most beautiful person on planet earth."

A pang shot through your heart, a poisoned arrow hitting a bullseye. You wondered why he'd bother to bring up someone like a supermodel or an actress or anyone else for that matter when you were right there in front of him. After all, regardless of if Derek had knowledge of your crush on him, it was just common courtesy not to, given one's self esteem.

Just as your next question started to leave your mouth, the ride started up again, the loud music drowning out any words you might've attempted to say. Your eyes stayed straight ahead of you as the ride continued, focusing not on the clowns and demons jumping out at you, but rather on the tears that you willed not to fall.

Soon enough, Derek was holding out his hand and helping you out of the cart. He acted as though nothing was wrong, as if he hadn't just crushed what little hope you did have of ever asking him out.

"You never gave me a final guess, by the way," he mentioned as the two of you started to walk toward one of the concession booths.

You shook off your thoughts, meeting his gaze as he stepped into the line. "I'm not sure you gave me enough information," you jested in an attempt to act natural.

"Oh, I think I gave you plenty of information," he chuckled back, his eyes soft as they returned your gaze.

A soft huff of fake annoyance fell off your lips. "Well then, your hints suck because I truly have no clue who you were talking about."

Derek flashed you that signature smile of his, and your heart screamed in anger at your brain for falling desperately in love with it. "Okay…" he started to say, "How's this for a hint?"

The world felt as though it was moving in slow motion when one of his hands cupped your cheek, glancing between your eyes and lips as he waited for an answer. Your sadness quickly turned to a wave of anxious excitement as you nodded, nearly fainting when he planted his lips on yours. A rush of joy and anticipation and exhilaration coursed through your veins, and you truly couldn't believe this was happening.

His lips parted from yours, and already, you wished he'd never leave. Still, he met you with another one of those beautiful toothy smiles, butterflies floating around in your belly at the sight. "Think you know the answer now?"

Never one to back away from your friendly banter, and despite the anxiety flowing through you from head to toe, you managed to joke, "I think you were referring to Megan Fox."

A light snicker tumbled out of him at your comment. "Trust me, she's got nothing on you."

"You promise you aren't pulling my leg? This isn't some Halloween prank?"

He met you with a look of honesty, lips pulling together for a closed-lip smile. "I promise, this is all treat, no trick. Besides, if it was a Halloween prank, would I offer to do it again?"

You shook your head. "I suppose not." You thought for a moment, meeting him with slightly confused eyes. "Are you? Offering again, I mean?"

"If you're accepting."

Suddenly, a wave of confidence came over you. Flashing the man a smile, you placed both hands on his cheeks and pulled him down for another kiss, electricity shooting through you at the feeling of your lips on his. "I'm always accepting when it comes to you, Derek Morgan."

Happy Halloweek Finale, my dearest auroras! 🥹

As previously stated, I totally meant to have this up sooner, but life kicked my butt the past few days and it took me so long to get a chance to edit these last few fics for you guys.

I really hope you guys have enjoyed this week as much as I did! I had so much fun writing all these fics for y'all and getting to celebrate the holiday with you guys. If all goes according to plan, I'm hoping to do something similar to this near Christmas as well so stay tuned for that!

I hope you all had a very happy Halloween and a wonderful Halloweek! Thank you all so much for the love on these fics 🥰

-> taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @danielle143 @topguncultleader @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @maelartasch

[shimkongzlove]

Ryouhei x reader

A/N - loved windbreaker but I couldn't find many fics related to it so I decided to write one on my own . It is terribly written with a bunch of spelling mistakes and a basic plot. Read at your own risk ❌️❌️

Warning- mention of blood , violence , a bit of angst , sexual themes ( ig that's it )

You were working as an intern in the xyz hospital ( choose any name u like ) for your winter break . U loved working there , the staff was sweet and u received a good pay . But there were a lot of things which dint particularly suit your liking ,first and foremost it was situated in a rather shady area , the patients who came there during ur night shift were let's just say interesting .

Night shifts were something that u did not enjoy even hated to a certain level . They were tiring, boring and deprived you off of sleep . Yet what was important had to be done

4:30 am

A cold gush of winds welcomed u as u exited the hospital . The walk home was rather quite until u heard grunting from a nearby alley . Normally u would have ignored it but today u were feeling rather curious

U peeked into the alley way only to find a man surrounded by blood , lying on the cold floor . U stood there Debating whether to help the man or not and atlast ur heart won over ur mind .

U made your way to him cursing yourself for even stopping in the first place . Kneeling down next to him u observed his features . He was handsome no he was hot as fuck , the scar running down his face Made it 100 times better maybe it wasn't that bad of a decision to stop

While u were in your little dream land the man in question had regained his consciousness, his instinct led his hand to your wrist breaking u away from your thoughts .

The panic started to set in 'fuck he's awake man I hate my self for this ' , " who are you " said the stranger in question not letting go of your wrist which was starting to hurt " you're hurting me let go , please " ur plee fell on deff ears " I'm a doctor ur bleeding profusely if we don't sto-" ur words were cut short by the man pulling u closer "I asked who the fuck are you " he asked once again ignoring ur words . His deep voice sent shivers down ur body , ur face was just inches away frm his " si-sir I'm y/n , I can help you , your wounds look deep we have to stop the bleeding "

"I'm fine " he said letting go of your wrist " don't need help frm a complete stranger " "sir pls these wounds look serious I promise I mean no harm " as much as u hated the man's attitude u were still a doctor by profession it was your duty to help those in need

"My house is just 5 minutes away from here I can help stop ur bleeding and then we can both go our separate ways forgetting this ever happened deal " before he could argue his body gave up and he fell right into your arms

'Fuck he's heavy ' u somehow managed to drag him to your apartment . U laid his body down on your bed and started collecting all the medical supplys needed for the treatment .

Ryouhei's pov - 'man does my head hurt ' regaing back his consciousness he started to realize that he was not in an alley fighting people but rather he was lying on a bed one that was not his , his vision was still quite blurry from the hit he had taken , realizing he could not do much in his state he layed there accepting his faith

"Oh, ur awake I was just collecting the medical supplies needed for your treatment " "where am i" he said once again ignoring u " ur at my house, I promised I won't harm u so rest assured" u said walking closer to him " I dint quite catch ur name " " ryouhei " he said In an uninterested tone " well ryouhei-san you'll need to take of your um... clothes for me to help you..." u said as blood creeped up to your cheeks

He adhered to your request without any further question . He had a well toned body with a few cuts and scratches here and there . U caught urself staring a little more then needed, face as red as a tomato "take a pic it'll last longer " were the words that broke ur train of thoughts u felt an ache between ur legs ' this is so unprofessional, but man he's so hot ' "so-sorry, ehh anyways I'll start your treatment it's gonna sting a little so try not to move that much k?"

Sitting next to him on your bed u started your treatment , u felt him shiver under your touch "why are u doing this " he asked " I'm a doctor, it's my duty to help those in need " ur words sounded sincere to him " I'm a bad guy ukw that right " " I'm just here for the intern ship , i dont know the dirty business that goes around here " u said eyes still on his wounds , somehow u dint feel scared by his declaration , his hands went to your waist pulling ur body even more closer to his , stopping ur movements " everyone here knows who I am , many are scared to even approach I could do anything to you and ppl won't even bat an eye "

"U could have harmed me the moment you woke up yet here we are , so ik u won't do anything to me , atleast that's what I'd like to believe " " tch, ur way too confident " u decided not to reply , the time after that passed by silently

After about 15 or 20 minutes u were done putting bandages on his chest, arms and shoulders there were still a few cuts and scratches on his back so u asked him to turn around . He was now laying on his back

The spots were hard to treat because of the position u both were In , the only best possible way for u to reach them was to sit on his back "ryouhei-san ...the wounds on your back are kind of hard to reach so I'll need to change my position to treat them " " do whatever u want"

So u did what u had to , your theigs were now on either side of his body ( u were wearing shorts) touching his bare back.

Ryouheis pov

He was going crazy , the feeling of your theigs deff caused him to get a hard on not only that ,since the moment he met u . He was doomed. U were so pretty ,ur skin shining in the moon light, ur sweet voice, ur scent everything about u was intoxicating he couldn't take it much longer

He turned around causing u to yelp and hold on to his shoulders for support u were now basically straddling him " ur driving me nuts " "what did I d-" before u could finish , u felt smth poking ur inner thigh "oh" " yea feel that , that's what u did , you gotta help me now babe "

The end

( this is sooo poorly written 👎 but I had to to justice to my man ryouhei , there are barely any fics about him 😭😭 lemme know if yall want a pt2 )

( ps- this is the first fic iv ever written so please go easy on me and I hope yall enjoyed it)

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 4 | Perfect coincidence

Pairing | Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Civilian!Female!Reader

Word count | 1.4K

Summary | You find yourself in the middle of a rainstorm and seek refuge in a warm-looking coffee shop. When there's only one table left, you share it with a handsome stranger who introduces himself as Bucky Barnes and his fluffy white cat, Alpine. What started as one of the worst days quickly turned into one of the best.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. The reader gets caught in the rain, use of a nickname (doll), Alpine is smuggled into the coffee shop, and the fluff is amped up to 11 on this one, like tooth-rotting fluff.

Prompt(s) | Alt 10. Have your characters share the last table at a café.

A/n | This one shot is written for day 4 of @flufftober 2023. This idea immediately came to mind when I saw this prompt, and I couldn't wait to start this one! I hope you will all enjoy it as much as I did when writing it 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @cafekitsune | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

It is a rainy day in the middle of October, and you accidentally forgot your umbrella at home. This morning, the weather was wonderful; the sun even appeared, but you should have known it would be too good to be true.

So here you are, in a thin outfit, soaked through your jacket, hair completely drenched, and cold beyond belief. It's good that you've found a coffee shop that looks warm and inviting so you can warm up a little bit.

As soon as you've crossed the street and made your way to the door of the coffee shop, you see that it is almost full, but you head in regardless. If you stay outside any longer, you're afraid the cold might permanently seep into your bones.

Your fingers are entirely frozen by now, and all feeling left them a while ago, so opening the door was a little more complicated than usual, but you managed regardless.

When the door swings open, you're greeted by lots of chatter and laughter, the coffee machines making all kinds of noises, the smell of freshly baked pastries, and some soft music in the background. You let the door fall shut behind you, and the atmosphere wraps itself around you like a warm blanket as if you're coming home.

You look around you and take in all the different kinds of people in the coffee shop. Some are working on their laptops, headphones on and in their own world, others are having lively conversations, and then a few are reading their book.

After a few short moments, you walk towards the small line of people at the counter, standing behind the last person and trying to decide what you'll have as you look up at the menu.

''What can I get for you today?'' the lady behind the counter asks, and you give her your order for a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and a cinnamon roll before she takes your name and writes it on the cup.

''It'll be right with you,'' she says after you've gotten your change from her, and you move to the part of the counter where you can pick up your drink. You grab your phone out of your bag quickly to see what time it is, and much to your surprise, it's only 1 PM.

When your name is called, you return your phone and thank the lady before picking up your cup of hot chocolate and warm cinnamon roll. You spot a table, and when you're walking over, you arrive at the same time as someone else.

''Shall we share this table, Doll? It appears to be the only one left,'' the man said in a deep voice, and hearing it immediately warms you from the inside out. And the nickname, that is truly what got you.

''Yeah, I'd love to,'' you say as you move towards the wooden chair, not wanting to ruin the beautiful couch with your wet clothing. You place your cup and pastry on the table before taking off your bag and jacket, hanging them over the back, and sitting down.

''I'm sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself; how rude of me,'' the man says, extending a gloved hand, but you don't question it for even a second. Especially since you already know who the man across from you is.

''Sergeant James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. And this girl-'' he fishes a cat out of the inner pocket after shaking your hand and puts her on the table ''-is Alpine!''

After you tell him your name, you focus on Alpine for a bit, and you tell Bucky about how you used to have a cat that looked just like her when you were growing up.

''I know it's silly, but I really wanted to name her Snowball, so I did. But Alpine is a gorgeous name! May I ask where you got her?'' you ask, and Alpine happily bumps her head against your hand, letting you know she wants more attention.

''I was looking for a cat to adopt in a local shelter because a friend told me how cats work well with people with PTSD. So I went there, and I saw little miss Alpine over here, and it was love at first sight,'' he says, a big smile on his face as he talks about her.

She jumps into your lap, although you're clothes are still soaked, and makes a little cat donut while spinning, slowly falling asleep and taking a pleasant and comfortable nap there.

''So, how did you end up on this side of town? I don't think I've ever seen you around here before,'' he says as he sips his coffee, and you do the same with your hot chocolate.

''You got a little…'' he says as he takes his glove off his right hand and reaches over to you. When his flesh fingers touch your lip, wiping the hot chocolate away as he stares into your eyes, the moment feels much more intimate than it probably should.

''I-I'm sorry,'' he says before quickly pulling his hand back, a red color sporting his cheeks, and he looks at his coffee cup, suddenly unsure what to do with himself.

''It's okay, I don't mind,'' you say in a soft but reassuring voice, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he looks up at you through his lashes.

''As I was going to say, I recently moved to this side of town. I used to live in New Jersey, but I figured it was time for a change, and this looked like a beautiful neighborhood. It would appear I was right,'' you say as you look at him and extend your hand, needing to feel his warm skin around your cold hand.

The afternoon was spent chatting and getting to know each other better until it was finally time to go home because the coffee shop was closing for the day. You completely forgot to eat your cinnamon roll.

''Excuse me, could you maybe wrap this up for me to go?'' you ask the lady behind the counter, and she happily does as Bucky puts Alpine back into his inner pocket.

''C'mon, let us walk you home. We can use my umbrella,'' he says as he shows you a dark blue umbrella, and you gladly accept before walking out the door. He immediately opens it, and you hook your arm through his extended one, letting your other hand rest on his bicep as you walk through the rain.

''I feel so stupid for leaving mine at home,'' you say as you rest your head against Bucky's shoulder. ''But if I did bring it, I never would have met you, so I guess that's the good thing about me forgetting it,'' you chuckle, and Bucky couldn't agree more.

When you arrive at your apartment complex, he walks you to your front door, not wanting to say goodbye yet. He's still trying to find the courage to ask you out on an actual date, and he realizes time is running out now.

He clears his throat when you let go of his arm to search for your keys.

''Doll? Would you maybe- if you want to-, you can say no if you want-'' he stumbles over his words, but you look up at him expectantly. He rubs the back of his neck as he composes himself.

''Would you want to go out for dinner? I had a lot of fun this afternoon, and I'd love to get to know you better,'' he asks, and the smile on your face melts every worry away.

''I would love to; let me give you my number,'' you say. He unlocks his phone so you can put it in there. When you hand it back, you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek softly as a goodbye.

''Goodbye, Bucky. It was great to meet you,'' you say as you unlock your door and walk in, and he stands there like a teenage boy with a crush. The smile on his face is not leaving, even when he's back at the Compound and he runs into Steve.

''Where have you been all afternoon? It's not like you to be gone for so long,'' his best friend asks, and that's when Bucky tells him about his afternoon.

The beautiful woman he met at the coffee shop, the way Alpine cuddled into her lap, and how the conversation never seemed dull, and you two still weren't done talking by the time you were dropped off at home.

''And the best of all is that I'll be seeing her again soon,'' Bucky says, that same big smile appearing on his face, and Steve's happy for him. After everything that's happened, you were the best thing that ever could have happened.

[marysandbox]

Dress - Taylor Swift x Reader

Summary: The one where "Dress" was written for you. [Requested]

Warnings: (+18), smut (it's flagged and can be skipped), fluff, secret relationship, implicit forms of media homophobia, mentions of past relationships. | Words: 2.724

A/N-> I found this request from last year on my drive, I believe it was a writing challenge. It was my first time writing for Taylor, and since it wasn't the focus of my main blog, I ended up forgetting about this one. Now that I have this secondary blog, I haven't found any reason not to share this little one.

General Masterlist |

-&-

Sighing softly, you let go of her hand.

Taylor remained close to you, however.

"It'll be quick." She assured, forcing a smile. "A few hours, we'll go home, okay?"

It was your turn to smile, your gaze roaming the entire figure in front of you, watching the new dress hug all the right places.

"You look beautiful, dear. Did I mention?" You deflect from her previous sentence, and despite the soft redness in her cheeks, her stare is amused.

"Once or twice."

"Then I need to improve on that number." You spoke, bringing your face closer to her ear. "You're breathtaking, Tay." You whispered, enjoying the way her skin shivered.

But the place was beginning to fill up. The other contestants and performers were arriving incrementally, and even though you were hidden from view by the cameras now, it was still too risky to be so close and so non-platonically in public.

Resisting the urge to kiss her cheek, you pulled away and cleared your throat softly. "After you, Miss Swift."

She rolled her eyes at the formality, a smile playing on her lips.

Taylor left first, or rather, entered, the great hall where the awards ceremony would be taking place this year.

You as an independent artist were going to sit a few tables away from her.

The challenge was to keep your eyes off your girlfriend when she looked so stunning.

The evening passed slowly, most probably because all you could do was watch the concerts and speeches and try to cheer yourself up a bit with the expensive food and bad drink.

Your only wish was to be able to keep your hand intertwined with hers and kiss her, even if only on the cheek, as married men could do around the room.

For your happiness, at least you can look at her. Her album won one of the awards that night.

She came on stage, to wave and to express her thanks, and you can't even control your own expression.

Would the photographers in the room be able to tell that your eyes shine brighter than the lights when you look at her?

Would Taylor be able to see you from that distance?

You know she can. Because she meets your gaze from the stage and smiles in a way that you know is just for you.

And when the night is over, she has autographs to sign, and hands to shake, and you are beginning to regret not drinking when one of the boys in a band tries to get her number from her managers.

–//–

It has been like this for some time.

Maybe days, or months? Sometimes you feel that it has been going on for years. Maybe all your life.

When you didn't know her, what was it like to go to LA?

Not to be around her, visiting galleries and parks in a poor disguise, or rushing out of rehearsals to spend time in her apartment under the sheets.

Soon spring is coming, and you need to get back to England for the awards.

Taylor invites you to accompany her to the Grammys when you're back.

At this point, even with all the precautions, the media recognizes that you two are close.

“Best friends” is written on the cover of gossip magazines. Her marketing team won't let her comment.

You are at her house again, before you travel, and she is wearing a sweatshirt that is yours, that she took from the bags you are not done with.

"I'm going to need that in the London cold, Tay." You mutter as you approach to hand her the drink you said you were going to prepare for you two.

She lifts her gaze from the little notebook, confused for a moment until she recognizes that you were talking about the clothes. Then she just smiles "Buy another, this one is mine until you get back."

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you sit down in the armchair across from her.

There is a forgotten movie on the television, and your cell phone is vibrating with the new appointments on your calendar, but you are looking at the woman in front of you. The blonde strands fall down at the sides of her face, her legs crossed on the bed as she scribbles some things down.

"Is it for Reputation?" You ask about the verses she suddenly, in the middle of the movie session, got the idea to write. She covers the paper immediately with her hand.

"Don't peek!" She warns with an expression of false seriousness, pushing the closed notebook further into her lap, her other hand holding her mug of chocolate.

"Never." You assure. "I can't wait to hear, though."

Her cheeks flush, and she smiles. You won't disturb her in her writing, and you think you can just watch her work and you'll be happy.

–//–

Most of the time, you hate journalists.

That's one of the times.

"We heard that you and Taylor Swift have become very close since the 2014 Grammy party." The man with the mustaches began, and from the tone, you knew it couldn't be a good thing. The dozens of cameras and microphones beside him in the stands kept you from turning your back. "We wanted an opinion, don't you think it's funny that Swift always writes of her relationships and people keep dating her?"

That was so mean. Unnecessarily mean.

You licked your lips, frowning, trying to remain calm.

Even the artist answering questions next to you grimaced, although she didn't stop her own interview to comment.

Your manager always said, "Take a deep breath, don't let it get to you. Everything can get around in a joking tone, so if you want to punch someone, the best alternative is to ironize what was said to you."

"Look buddy, have you met her?" you started in the least angry way you could manage. " Tay is by far, the most incredible, inspiring, hard-working, and intense woman I have ever met. I think everyone who meets her has the same impression, and when you have a chance to be, whether it's a footnote or a song, you take a chance. Because anything is worth it to have a little piece of paradise that is being loved by a woman like her."

The man was embarrassed by his question, and unresponsive. His best was to smile. Some of the others began to comment on the sweetness of your answer, but you were dismissing further questions to get into the event.

Before the party was even over, all the way to another continent, Taylor would be teary-eyed with the cut of this little interview circulating on the internet and on her cell phone screen.

You came back to the United States two weeks after you left.

It was like longing torture, to be honest.

Your cell phone had unread notifications because you were in airplane mode the whole trip.

You called Taylor as soon as you picked up your bags.

"Hey, baby sorry for the delay, I forgot my cell phone was off "You spoke as soon as she answered.

"No worries." She said. "Where are you? The car will be right out."

The Grammys were tonight, but you hadn't even taken off your travel clothes.

"Yeah, I think I'll miss my ride." You say checking your watch. "Can I meet you at the party?"

"Of course, darling." She spoke a moment later, almost hesitantly. You didn't catch why. "I love you, see you later."

"I love you too."

You were late. Very late.

Not only did it take forever to get a cab, but you lost your keys somewhere in your suitcase and it took an hour and a half for a locksmith to service you at that time.

When you finally arrived, through the back because the red carpet was closed, the awards ceremony had already begun.

Your gaze searched among the people immediately, and Taylor was in one of the front seats.

Yours was between the ninth and tenth row. You could barely make out her figure from that distance.

The way you missed her was almost painful.

And the speeches and applause continued, and you were exchanging sweet messages with her across the room.

She didn't win anything that night, a younger girl took many victories.

Everything seemed to happen automatically, until the party and she was close enough for you to hold.

You hugged her tight, fuck the photographers and the rest of the world for a few seconds. She hugged you back just as hard, her hands wrapped around your neck.

One or two people noticed the excitement and one of the managers clarified something about you being traveling, a long time apart.

But you didn't follow this.

You just focused on the bright blue eyes in front of you, without saying anything, and you already knew.

You were talking about going out and missing each other, and it was hard to hear each other in that crowded room, with the music so loud.

So Taylor was leaning into your ear, and it just seemed like friends trying to hear each other better.

"Can we go to my apartment after here, please?" She almost begged, her fingers haunting your wrist a moment before she pulled away, with the most innocent expression in the world.

And you were swallowing dryly, shifting your gaze from her lips to her eyes and forcing a not the least bit affected smile, as if she had just made a comment about the food. 

It was your turn to lean in so, seeming to continue the conversation. "I can't wait to get that dress off you, baby."

She sighed, almost inaudible. But you felt it against your neck, her breath uncompensated.

Then you both were pulling away, and smiling gently, keeping up appearances.

–//– ~smut scene~ –//– 

You let your hands wander down, tongues together sliding against each other, the soft moans being the only sound in the room.

Taylor was pulling you by the tie, stumbling around the apartment to the bedroom, but you two kept stopping all the way. Pressed against each other, breathing together.

"I need this off." You warned breathlessly about her tight clothes, the kisses running down her collarbone as she melted against you.

It seemed to become the most complicated thing to remove when you had her throwing her hips towards you, her body so warm.

So with a frustrated grunt, you grabbed the fabric and ripped it off. She let out a low moan, the cold air against her skin being quickly replaced by the sensation of your hands running over her entire body.

"God, Tay, I missed you so much, baby." You declared kissing your way to her breasts. 

"I missed you too." She returns equally breathless, her eyes closing tightly as she feels your lips around her nipples, stimulating her eagerly.

Her legs are giving out. You can tell, and waste no time in grabbing her by the waist, looking for the first surface you can find.

Your hand pushes some objects out of the way, books, and picture frames. You place her on the top of a cabinet, seated, and her legs encircle your waist as your mouth returns to hers.

Taylor gasps against your lips, kissing you in the same overwhelming intensity, her hips splaying forward, trying to ease the sensation between her legs.

You smile at this, slowing the kiss as you slide your hands down her thighs.

Her panties are ruined. She is dripping, you can feel it through the fabric.

Taylor chokes as she feels your thumb against her clit, and moans hoarsely when you begin to press.

"Is that good, baby?" you tease when she can no longer kiss you back, her hands on your shoulders and her eyes ajar staring at you.

She looks so beautiful. Her darkened eyes, her flushed cheeks, and her lips were puffy from kissing hard.

You smile at her, as your fingers push the fabric of her panties aside and you slip into her without warning, which elicits a moan from both of you.

It is always as amazing as the first time. She is hot and slippery, and you sigh. "Fuck, I need to taste you."

She whimpers and barely has time to complain about the lack of contact when you remove your fingers, because her complaint dies in her throat and turns into a suffering moan when you get on your knees in front of her, and sink your face against her nub without warning.

"Jesus!" She exclaims affected as she feels your tongue, eating her with desire, and all she can do is close her eyes tightly, trying not to cum immediately.

You moan against her pussy, her taste is intoxicating. Your own panties stick to the wave of arousal you feel as you eat her out.

You move your tongue with precision and speed, sinking between her folds, stimulating her as deliciously as possible.

She becomes a mess of whimpers and loud moans, and digs her nails into your scalp hair, forcing your face against her before spilling onto your tongue.

"Fuck." She whimpers excitedly, trying to recover from her orgasm as you drink all her liquids and continue to overstimulate her. "Babe, please."

"Give me one more sweetheart." You ask as you pull away for a moment, moving your fingers to open her more. "I know you can."

She nodded breathlessly, already ready for another one anyway. And you weren't going to stop anytime soon.

– ~end of smut~ –

You sleep until late.

When you awaken, there is a small breakfast tray in the corner of the bed, and a blonde woman in the armchair, a notebook in her hands.

"Are you watching me sleep?" You ask in a husky voice, as you open your eyes. She blushes, shifting her gaze back to the pages, making you smile. "Creepy."

She laughs softly, and one of the sheets she has crumpled into a little ball, she throws at you.

You stretch, sitting up properly. 

"I wrote a song about you." She declares in silence many moments later, when you are already passing jam on your toast.

You raise a brow, a playful smile, "Yeah? Are you going to tell me what it is called?"

She bites back a smile, denying with her head. You give a chuckle. "Not even the album?"

Taylor leaves the notebook on the armchair, and crawls back to the bed, keeping her gaze on you until you are close enough.

"What's the fun in saying, if you can guess?" She whispers against your lips, and you feel the jam drip against your fingers, but you don't even mind, moving forward to capture her lips.

She smiles against your mouth, and you forget about the food, wrap your hands around her face, and kiss her until she is flushed and breathless beneath you.

"Not even a hint?" You try later in a brisk tone. She laughs, shaking her head. "You know what, Tay? It doesn't really matter." You murmur as you lie down next to her, tracing her features with your fingers. She raises her eyebrow in curiosity.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm staying long enough." You reply. "I will stay until all the love songs make you think of me."

She blushes, but has a challenging smile, "You are so cocky."

You laugh, nodding. "All of them. From Taylor Swift 2006 to 1989."

She laughs softly. "You want me to think about you with all of my ex-boyfriend' songs?"

You nod trying not to laugh too. "You'll think about how none of them compared to me."

She giggles, moving closer to kiss you several times on the cheek, over and over again, until you are laughing too.

A long moment after, you calm down, and she has her face resting on your chest, your hands on her waist and hair, and you notice the mood has changed.

You don't push, Tay talks when she wants to. And it doesn't take long for her to kiss your skin and then whisper, "You're going to be my best song."

Smiling weakly, you kissed her forehead. "I just hope to be the happy ones."

Taylor sinks her face against your neck, entwining her legs in yours. "You are."

[ghostgirl101]

how about a micheal myers dating headcannon list? i always thought he was pretty,,

Dating Michael Myers Would Be Like This:

A/N: The version of Michael Myers I'm writing for here is the younger, original 1978 Halloween, so if you want the older version or Rob Zombie's then feel free to request it (just no smut 🙃)

🔪• Michael Myers... it's hard to know where to start with this. You may have caught his attention as a potential victim, or even as an aspiring slasher, but whatever you did, you can't undo. You're The Shape's new obsession now, and it'll be almost impossible to not carry on being so.

🔪• He doesn't know what it is he's feeling at all; maybe it's the way you stared up at him expectantly, your fear mixed with something searching and curious as you waited for impact, but Michael couldn't make himself kill you. His head told him to do it, and do it now, but, for once, his own willpower won. Michael brushed past you instead, while you watched in surprise, his knife sticky with crimson as it swung slightly as he walked away.

🔪• It won't be the last you see of him, though. Whether you notice it or not, Myers is never too far away, watching you blankly from around the corner, inside a passing beige car, or in plain sight on the road opposite. It's unnerving, his dark eyes hidden and seemingly empty behind the mask as he observes ominously, but if you could get closer, you would see the confusion, annoyance with himself, and the fond calmness he gets just from being in your presence, in his hidden expression.

🔪• You have to sort of allow him into your life and home after a while of him following you around, subtly or obviously, depending on how he feels and what's happening. If Michael wanted you dead, you'd be dead, so him being nearby whenever you look behind you is a form of protection on his part, that, for whatever reason, he wants and needs to give you.

🔪• Simple things like cooking him food and patching him up after his kills mean a lot to him. I mean, the first few times, he'll be looming and making sure you're not poisoning it, or apprehensively staring at the things you're using to fix him up with and stop the blood. But little by little, Michael trusts you more, and gets a bit more relaxed. He still only eats when he's alone because he doesn't want you to see him unmasked (yet, we'll get to that later) but he'll hang around more when you're not in any danger, like watching tv or catching up on work. He's not particularly focused on that, more on you... he stares, a lot, obviously.

🔪• Being in a proper relationship with a lover is something that Michael Myers has never really come close to experiencing, so he has to be eased and gently guided into it. If he panics when things move a little too fast, he won't hurt you or anything, but he'll disappear for an hour or so, until he's in a better state to try again. It starts with small physical touches, sitting closer together, holding hands, and even managing to lean on him or hug him a little. It fazes him at first, and he freezes up but doesn't push you off. It just takes him a bit to mirror it, like letting a strong arm go around your shoulders as he awkwardly returns it. He gets better and more comfortable with it over time.

🔪• Michael is extremely protective, no matter who you are or what you do. He hates the thought of you being scared of him too... I mean, usually, it's a great rush of a feeling, when his victim runs off to get caught by him, with looks of horror on their faces. But it feels wrong with you. You're not his victim. You matter, and you're his. Simple as that, to him. So the stalking doesn't fully stop, since he likes knowing where you are and who you're with; not necessarily in an overly toxic way, more as in him not trusting anyone but you, and making sure you're as safe as you can be. When you're at home watching TV or something, then he'll feel confident enough in you to go off to his nightly activities, before he returns in the early hours of the morning and lets you coax him to sleep.

🔪• Michael Myers finds it almost impossible to sleep, and often time he gets nightmares. He's never slept as well and deeply as he does when you're beside him, or feeling your soft weight on him, grounding him in a way. He still gets nightmares every now and then, but in the dark, he can use the opportunity to cling to you instead, in a way that's a lot more vulnerable than usual. He'll act like it never happened when you get up for the day later on, though, and gets all flustered under his mask if you bring it up.

🔪• Sometimes, after his kills, he'll bring you back little trinkets, like jewellery Michael thinks you might like, or expensive-looking things. Either that or bloody teeth. You accept his more appropriate gifts with a thankful smile and a hug, though you can't wear it out much in case someone notices it. He also likes it when you wear his stuff, like the oversized black t-shirts he wears underneath the boiler suit. It makes Michael feel a lot more possessive.

🔪• Another thing is communication. You can tell what he wants by him just standing straight behind you for you to bump into him when you turn back, whether it's food or to go somewhere else or a hug. Sometimes he'll leave brief, one or two-worded notes around your home when he's gone to tell you to 'stay home' or 'sleep soon' with a small, wobbly heart hidden on the corner of the paper. But what's surprising is that, although he's selectively mute, a part of him wants to talk to you. It's difficult after being silent for so long, but every once in a while, he'll whisper a faded, odd compliment when you're in bed, alone together, to comfort you or answer a question. Unless he can't be bothered. Then Michael's back to doing things himself and just standing in the doorway like 🧍

🔪• Eventually, eventually, Michael feels confident enough to take off his mask with you - and only you - around to see. We saw how taken aback and uncomfortable he was in the movie when the mask was yanked off him, and although his expression usually is calm and stoic underneath, when it's bare, he hates how it's a lot easier to read his feelings. But it is you, so Michael doesn't mind as much. If you slowly reach up to touch his cheek or brush his hair with your hand, he'll flinch back instinctively at first, but grows to like it. If you earnestly tell him how pretty he is, if you look closely, you can see a faint blush dusting his cheeks before he huffs and looks away.

🔪• He likes you playing with his hair, too. It's more of a reason to keep his mask off, like when you're lounging around the house or trying to sleep. Gently tugging and carding your fingers through his brown curls makes him slump onto you and let his mind wander into a place that's not full of darkness and blood. The same goes for if you pull his hair slightly when you're making out. You have to teach him how to kiss you properly first, since he's never done this before. But Michael tones down the roughness and desperate, quick moves the more you do it, and learns how to be gentle. Well, gentler. He likes the feeling of being close together and connected on a deeper level, it balances him out a bit, and he lets himself enjoy it.

🔪• Random point, but if you find the one, specific ticklish spot he has, you could catch a glimpse of his rare smiles as he forces your hands away and tries to glare at you in annoyance. If you're ticklish, watch out, cus he'll get you back until you're in a laughing crying fit. You make him laugh just by being you every so often, and his smile is heart-stopping.

🔪• Michael knows that you're his forever, and that's exactly how he wants it. It's honestly not that bad a relationship (overlooking the kills and all, obviously) if you can take his protectiveness and weird mannerisms. But in the whole world, you'll never find a loyaler person, or anyone who loves as hard and obsessively as him. No one would think it - especially not Loomis - but you treating Michael Myers as a human and not as The Shape or some evil monster keeps a special little part of him awake amongst the darkness that swarms in his head.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi hi I love your blog!

I have a teeny wee ask for you!

How would Kaeya, Thoma, and Childe (separately) react to finding out their SO smokes. Honestly I’m purely asking because I’ve been addicted for years now and quitting is so damn hard. Maybe the men will give me more incentive to stop 😣😂

I ADORE the way you write these three, makes me so happy cuz they’re my favourites (esp. Childe ugh I’m so down bad for him)

im glad you like my writng :D hope this works for you <3

I can see Kaeya being a casual smoker. He's not really addicted to the nicotine high or anything and he's not a fan of the smell of smoke on his clothes but he doesn't mind ducking out every once in a while to chat with you.

If you want to stop he'll be pretty helpful. He can be pretty disciplined at times if he needs to be so he's definitely great at trying to help you kick your habit.

He's also a great support for any withdrawal symptoms. He definitely is someone who likes to keep his hands busy if he's trying to distract his mind. Sometimes that means spending his time pestering you sweetly, other times it means doing some extra work for the knights or at home. You manage to keep up with his extraordinarily busy day, collapsing onto the bed and too tired to even think about smoking before falling asleep.

Overall it's not the end of the world for him whether or not you smoke but he wants you to be happy. Whatever it is he can do to help you is what he'll do, but if you're feeling like you want to quit he's with you 100% of the way.

Thoma is a little more worried than Kaeya is. He's pretty straight edge and the most he's done is sample a few things that his friends were offering him in a low-key environment.

He's thinking about some of the long-term effects that it might have on your body and his whole goal of wanting to grow old with you might get delayed. Thanks to that, he'll start to voice some of his concerns.

He's not mean about it at all, and honestly, the whole conversation is framed incredibly lovingly. You tell him you've been trying and he decides that means it's time for him to help you continue to try. Whatever it is that you need to do to help you quit he's there to support you, and even finds other things to help with quitting.

Childe can be either. On one hand, he might not smoke because it could hinder his ability in combat but on the other, it could be something else he does just for a bit of escapism. He might smoke more often than Kaeya would, going with you for smoke breaks and just hanging out with you while also smoking.

When you tell him you want to quit he decides that he will too in solidarity with you. For him, it's pretty easy just because for whatever reason, he has insane self-control when he wants to. He can quit cold turkey at any given moment but he understands that's not exactly normal for most people.

He's similar to Kaeya in the sense that he likes to keep busy if he's trying to keep his mind off something. It'll be good for him too, keeping busy and it means he gets to spend some time with you so as far as he's concerned it's a win-win. You'll definitely be able to quit with his help and insistence.