#like i know i put a fuck of a lot of thought (far too much) into the one scene in DMC5 where they stroll into dante's office

[bloominstorm]

I don’t care I’m absolutely here for Deku vs. Class 1A

[maleksrami]

.

[durativo]

I am now also incredibly saddened by the fact that Dante has been bored with his job since DAY FUCKING ONE.

[megistusdiary]

Can u do a part two to the taking turns one? I really liked the first one and I would love to have another one with Zhongli and Thoma taking turns 🙂

you got it, nonnie!! a lot of people have been asking for this, so i hope this part lives up to the expectations oml ;w; this turned out to be kinda long, so i hope you all enjoy it.

(link to pt 1)

warnings: mean-dom!childe+ayato and soft-dom!zhongli+thoma with sub!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

penetration/oral (f!receiving), marking, praise, thoma calls you 'angel,' zhongli calls you 'dear,' full nelson 👀

zhongli held you close to his chest, bare skin rubbing against the fabric of his suit. childe and ayato observed carefully. putting aside their quarrels, both were eager to watch how a god would ruin you.

you shivered as thoma nestled himself between your legs, smiling up at you sweetly. zhongli moved to tuck his arms under your legs before folding his hands behind your head. his fingers locked against your scalp firmly, but the sensation was anything but painful.

it was painfully embarrassing though to be spread out on display for everyone.

that thought didn't last very long though once thoma started licking at your clit. you writhed as much as zhongli's arms allowed you, gasping at the feeling.

your pussy was so sensitive from childe and ayato, and even thoma's gentle licks were too much. zhongli felt sympathy for your poor little mortal body, though he didn't do much to help. he simply leaned back against the bed frame, watching thoma press his face further into you.

"oh-fuck, thoma-" you carded your fingers into the blonde's hair. your hands were caught on the headband portruding, making you lose your grip when he took your clit between his lips.

"make sure she is thoroughly prepared and pleased. when pleasuring a woman, her satisfaction should be at the forefront of your mind. partners should always wish for their counterpart to feel good." zhongli commented, eyes locking with childe and ayato.

they seemed slightly embarrassed as they watched you writhe and let out soft moans. thoma looked up at you, mumbling praises into your pussy that had your hips twitching.

before you could reach your high, however, thoma gently pulled away. before he could move too far, zhongli held up a hand. "if you wish, you may have her first, thoma. we are guests in the kamisato estate, after all."

thoma's eyes shone with excitement as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "if that's what you want." he addressed you directly as you nodded, reaching out for him.

he carefully moved you off of zhongli's lap and onto the bed. as he unfastened his belt, removing the fabric in the way, your eyes widened.

childe let out a low whistle, reminding you of his presence in the back of the room. "didn't know you were hiding all that, housemaid." he smirked as thoma turned red.

zhongli pinched the bridge of his nose, saying nothing more as he watched thoma smooth his hands over your hips.

he placed the tip over your clit, gently tapping his dick over the sensitive areas as you squirmed. "thoma, please-" you begged, hands taking purchase on his shoulders.

he was ever so gentle as he pressed into you, allowing you to arch up against him while he stretched you out. "oh, archons-" thoma gasped, hips stuttering as you tightened around him. "you feel so good." he moved one of his hands to bite down on his thumb.

thoma worked hard to fuck you slow and deep, working to hit the spots you seemed to love. he wanted you to not only feel him, but to feel amazing.

you gasped out his name as he pressed his forehead to yours, moving his hips a bit faster. "oh, angel-" he whispered into your ear, nuzzling your cheek.

he felt himself coming close, hips moving at their leisure. he felt ayato take one of his hands, pressing the marker into his fist. he let out a gasp as you clenched around him, moving to draw a line across your stomach. his hands were shaky, making it slightly off-center as he leaned back up.

not wanting to ruin anyone else's fun, he carefully pulled out, trying hard to ignore your needy whines. "i know, angel, i know. but, mr. zhongli still needs his turn. he has been such a patient guest." he half-addressed the man behind you, tipping his head down out of respect.

zhongli gathered you back into his arms. wrapping his arms around your legs and re-locking his hands behind your head. you were once again on display shamelessly, feeling the tip of zhongli's cock dragging against your entrance. he continued gathering slick along the head, feeling your pussy twitch against him. you tipped your head back, trying to catch a glimpse of the former-god.

"now, dear. are you ready?" zhongli asked, taking your consent into careful consideration.

"yes, yes please." you gasped, mouth falling open as zhongli slowly pressed into you.

and by the archons, was it perfect. you let out a whine, feeling zhongli stuff you full with his dick. he was much larger than childe or ayato, making your hole clench tightly on him.

"you're doing well." zhongli praised you, continuing to push himself into you. because of the position, you were forced to stare down at the sight. and, oh, was it a sight to behold.

he stretched you out so well, and you could see gossamer strands sticking to his dick. your pussy was so sensitive as he continued to have you take more of him.

moans, pleas, and cries of his name spilled from your lips as he allowed you to adjust to his size by gently fucking into you. from this position, he felt deeper than any dick you had ever taken. he reached places and hit spots you didn't know existed. you were a shaking mess above him, held carefully in his arms and against his body.

the three men looked on with fascination and slight envy as you finally came on zhongli's cock. you were shaking like a leaf, trembling in his tight hold and unable to do anything but take what he gave you.

tears gathered in your eyes as zhongli slowly fucked you through your orgasm. the slick strands from your orgasm stuck to his dick, creating a milky ring around the base.

before you could recover, zhongli held up the marker. the men leaned closer, curious to see just how deep zhongli was.

childe's hands were balled into fists, and ayato seemed intensely pensive. zhongli slowly trailed the marker across your skin, creating the thinnest, most delicate line of the four.

it was higher than the others, causing the men to look on bitterly as he slowly pulled out. "you did so well, dear." he mumbled into your ear. he released your head, allowing it to fall back against his shoulder limply.

[delfiore]

heaven knows i’m miserable now

synopsis: robin buckley x fem!reader

synopsis: you haven’t seen robin since sophomore year when you broke her heart. now, with supernatural forces terrorizing the town, you get a second chance at making amends when you get wrapped up in the fight against vecna.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: homophobia

a/n: robin my smolest tiniest bby :3

now playing:

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You snuck a glance across the basement of the library, to where she was sitting. The immeasurable distance she put between you two didn’t go unnoticed by you. Instead, she spent her time conversing with Nancy Wheeler, who clearly seemed irritated by her constant rambling. You found it adorable, of course, just as you found anything she did just lovable.

Nancy was the one in charge of this whole operation, breaking away from the rest of the group to look into Victor Creel. When Robin volunteered to accompany her, you thought it only fitting that you should too. You would follow Robin anywhere.

Sadly, you fucked it all up before it even truly began.

She didn’t talk to you at all since you split from the group. She didn’t like to talk to you at all, really.

You took this time to actually look through files and newspaper archives as you were supposed to, to distract yourself from your current, miserable predicament. After all, you still needed to find out what happened to your best friend Chrissy. The gruesome nature of her death was enough to convince you that it couldn't have been the deed of a human.

Meanwhile, Robin was trying her best not to talk Nancy’s ear off. She used to do that with you, but obviously, couldn't and will not anymore.

“Just so you know. I mean Steve’s like, a total dingus, but a fun dingus, you know? We share a lot of laughs, but we’re totally friends. Platonic, with a capital P.”

“Got it.” Nancy grimaced. “Why do you care so much what I think about you and Steve? I mean—Don’t you have your own thing to worry about?”

“W-What do you mean?” Robin stammered.

Nancy didn’t reply, and only pointed her head towards where you were standing at the far side of the room, rummaging through papers.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Robin.” The brunette laughed quietly. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and the way you look at her when you think she doesn’t notice. What happened between you two?”

Robin swallowed a lump in her throat. “Nothing. Nothing, okay? Let’s just . . . keep looking.”

“Hey, guys?” You called, eyebrows furrowed. “I think I found something.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You broke the surface, and were met with pitch black.

You dove into darkness, and were kicking and kicking, only hoping to find a portal like the rest of the group predicted. You didn’t even know what to expect, all you knew was that you wanted to keep Robin safe, even if it meant diving headfirst into the lake, not knowing what you’d find at the bottom.

The realm they called the Upside Down was nothing short of terrifying. An exact replica of your own, but plagued in darkness, parasitic vines, and demonic bats, all connected to this Vecna.

This was your chance, you thought, on the way to the Wheelers’ house, or at least a version of it in this hellhole.

You jogged to where Robin was walking alongside Nancy. As you thought of something to say, a branch caught on Robin’s foot. Instinctively, you extended your arms and caught her just in time before she face-planted.

“Careful.” You said, smiling softly.

“I’m fine.” Robin grumbled, and pushed herself off of you.

You took that as a warning. No touching it was.

“So,” you breathed out slowly, “I heard you got the highest grade in Hauser’s class last year. I mean, it’s not surprising. You’re you, after all.”

“Thanks.” Robin replied halfheartedly, avoiding your gaze.

“You know, I started reading more after you showed me the books that you liked, and I’m sure Hauser was glad that I did. My English grades were not good.” You chuckled quietly. Silence. “I read Dune. Maybe when all of this blows over, we can talk about it sometimes?”

“Look, I know what you’re trying to do, okay? But it’s not gonna work.” She snapped, stopping in her tracks. “I’m not gonna fall for this again.”

“Robin, I just wanted to—“

“Forget it, just forget it, Y/N.” She kept walking. “Please don’t talk to me anymore.”

Steve and Nancy shared a look.

You only watched as Robin continued her strides, ignoring the pang in your heart.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, “don’t be discouraged. You know Robin isn’t one to admit her feelings right away.”

“She hates me, Steve.” You said, attempting to swallow your tears. “I’ll never get the chance again.”

Up ahead, Robin was kicking the soil under her feet, as she swallowed her frustration. Who did you think you were? She just got so angry at you that she made a scene in front of everyone. Stupid, stupid, stupid . . .

“Hey there, Buckley.”

Robin did a double-take. Ever since this started, she hasn’t talked to Eddie at all, at least not one-on-one. Yet, here he was, stealing glances back at you as he walked beside her.

“Hey, Eddie.” She mumbled.

“Sounded pretty intense back there.”

“It’s fine,” she sighed. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/L/N struck a nerve of yours? These popular kids, they really do know how to get under your skin, don’t they? Except . . . Y/N isn't like the other popular kids though, is she?"

Robin furrowed her eyebrows. "What?"

"Did you two fall out? Y/L/N ditched you for the meatheads?"

Robin sighed. Eddie's nosiness felt very familiar, and the fact that he felt so comfortable with her to be this nosy was surprising. Maybe this was what Nancy felt too. "Yeah," she said, "something like that."

"She was ready to dive in headfirst after you."

"Y/N has a weird hero complex. She would dove in for anyone."

"Y/N Y/L/N? Star of the Tigers cheer squad? Hawkins' resident heartbreaker? Nah, I don't think so." Eddie shook his head. “Look, I don’t mean to pry. It’s just . . . kinda weird between you two. With Vecna running around preying on trauma-ridden teenagers, you don’t want to be holding grudges.”

Robin knew he was right. But it wasn’t her that needed to repent, it was you.

She thought about what song would be the one that saves her. Would her friends know her enough to pick one that would rescue her from Vecna’s grasp? Would you know?

“Hey, uh, if I start floating or whatever, anything by Fleetwood Mac would work fine.” She said to the group, half-joking.

“Motley Crüe for me, or Black Sabbath.” Eddie added.

“I—uh, pfft. Guess I’m a goner.” Steve blew raspberry.

“Y/N. Y/N?” You turned to Nancy, who pointed her flashlight at your shoes. “Let’s go.”

You didn’t realize you were staring off into the distance. Why were there grandfather clock chimes in the middle of the woods?

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Dustin, the genius child, connected the dots that led you and the group here, to Eddie’s trailer where Chrissy was killed to return back to the normal world. One by one, you climbed through the portal, the laws of physics completely thrown out the window as you watched Robin, Eddie, then Nancy climb up, and fall onto the mattress.

It was your turn. You jumped onto the makeshift ladder made from Eddie’s bedsheets as Steve held it steady, and pushed yourself up. Up, up, until you felt the force of gravity pull you toward the ground.

But you kept falling and falling and falling, until you landed with a thud on hard concrete. You were on school grounds, in front of the main entrance, where two years ago, you blew your secret.

“Y/N.” A low, gutteral voice sounded.

Blood ran cold along your neck.

You were its next victim.

“Do you blame yourself, Y/N? Heartbreaker. Was the popularity contest worth it?”

“No.” You whispered to yourself, and shook your head frantically.

It wasn’t. It wasn’t worth it when you took up on that bet that Jason made with you.

“C’mon, Y/N. It shouldn’t be that hard, should it? Buckley’s a little band nerd, and a queer.” You remembered Jason’s sneering laughter. “You’re not queer too, are you?”

“You played with someone’s heart to keep your place among the cool kids. Was it worth it, Y/N?”

Robin paid you no mind when you first approach her, almost like she believed herself that someone liked you had no time for someone like her. It took you a while for her to finally ask you out, almost exceeding the three months Jason initially bet on you.

It wasn’t worth it, you knew that, because you started to like it when you press your body against hers, feeling her protective arms wrap around yourself, feeling the softness of her lips brush against your own.

It wasn’t worth it when you said those three words, which was a part of your ploy, except you meant every word, and your heart felt like it would explode hearing her say them back to you.

It wasn’t worth it, at all, because you fell in love with Robin Buckley.

And when you saw the tears streaming down her cheeks with the most pained look of betrayal on her face in the pouring rain, you knew for sure. It was not worth it.

Not one single bit.

“Y/N! Y/N!! FUCK!” Robin shouted. “Shit! Shit! Shit! What do we do?”

“What’s her favorite song?” Nancy yelled back.

“What?”

“Her favorite song, Robin! You’re the only one here that knows her!”

“I—uh . . .” Robin stammered, trying her hardest to calm her racing brain to think.

What was your favorite song? She had spent almost a year and a half trying to forget every little detail about you, after having memorized them every single day. Your favorite song . . . It’s been years. Would it even work?

“U-Uh, Psychedelic Furs! Play Psychedelic Furs!”

“I-I don’t have that!” Dustin stammered, his voice cracking, as he looked through his tapes.

“God damn it! Play—“

She remembered. On a hot July afternoon, in her room, you sat between her legs, head rested against her chest, as you giggled excitedly watching her listen to a song you showed her.

“I didn’t think you’d like this kind of music.”

“Why? Because I’m a cheerleader, I’m not allowed to like The Smiths?” You teased.

“N-No, i-it’s just—“ Robin chuckled. “I’m surprised, that’s all. I guess there’s still a lot I don’t know about you.”

“Well then, you better get to it, Buckley, because I’m a very impatient girl.” You smirked, drawing her closer by the cord of the headphones.

“Don’t mind if I do.” She leaned down to you for a firm kiss.

“‘Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now’, The Smiths!” As soon as the words left her mouth, Dustin sorted through his tapes, and before long he had placed the headphones around your ears and blasted the song.

When you regained consciousness, Robin was all you could see, hear, and touch. You tightened your grip around her, choked sobs in between incessant ‘I’m sorry’s escaped your mouth like a broken record.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

The only time you finally got a moment’s peace was late at night, when everyone became exhausted and fell asleep. Free of their interrogation as to what you saw in your waking nightmare—much of which you lied about, they didn’t need to know the exact details—you wrapped a blanket around yourself and leaned back against the couch in the Wheelers’ basement.

The stillness of the room gave some for your own thoughts to arise. Then it sudden hit you; you almost died, and it would have been a painful death, a torment both on your mental state as well as your physical. You didn’t want to go like that, and looking around the room, you felt so lucky that these people were there to prevent you from dying. You needed better friends, and you could only hope they accept you after all this is over.

A glass of water was placed in front of you on the table, and you turned to look to realize it was Robin. She retracted her hand and sat next to you.

“Thank you.” You croaked, and reached for the glass.

Gulp. The silence was deafening. It was making you nervous.

“Thank you,” you said finally, “for saving me back there.”

“I was just guessing.” Robin shrugged, fumbling with her fingers. “I didn’t think it would work. It’s been . . .”

“Yeah. Been quite a while. But it’s still my favorite song, because . . .” you drew a breath before continuing, “because it made me realize that I was in love with you.”

Robin clenched her jaw. “Y/N . . .”

“Please let me finish, and then after this, you won’t ever have to talk to me again if you don’t want to, I promise.” You said a bit louder, then stopped when you saw Lucas turning in his sleep.

“All my life, I’ve felt this pressure sitting on my chest, like a devil, just holding my head underwater. Everyone just had these expectations they held of me, and I was scared of what would happen if I failed them. And then . . .”you laughed quietly, “then you came along, and you treated me like I wasn’t Y/N Y/L/N, like I was just a normal, stinking girl you liked to hang out with.

“I can’t change my past actions, and I know I hurt you. Believe me, I know.”You whispered, wiping tears away. “But I will not give up on you because our relationship is the most meaningful thing I’ve had in my 18 years of life, even if it was based on a lie.”

You brought your hands to your face. The cries that clawed at your throat escaped in choked sobs through the gaps of your fingers.

Robin sat there dumbfounded. All this time she thought she was just one of your toys, that she gave you her heart and you would mercilessly stomp on it and toss it away to find a new one to torment. She was at her lowest when she learned that you only went out with her because of a bet you made with the popular kids, and it made her feel stupid and small. But she also loved you fiercely—as fiercely as her naive, little 16-year-old self could have loved—and it pained her to admit that she would have done anything for you.

Robin grasped your hands slowly, setting them down on your lap, before bringing up her own to gently wipe away the tears that have wet your cheeks.

“You’re still pretty even when you cry.” She mumbled to herself, but she was sure you heard.

“You wanna come over to mine next weekend and watch Dune? You said you read the book.” She asked. “If we’re not all dead, I mean.”

The look of surprise and bewilderment on your face was so adorable, she only wanted to kiss you. “I want to go slow. I still have a lot of unresolved angst and heartbreak that shaped my late teen years from you.”

“Y-Yeah. I mean, yes.” You said, and sniffled, a smile cracked on your lips. “I’ll come over.”

She nodded, still fumbling with her fingers. Then in one quick motion, swiped across your face with a quick kiss.

You sunk back into the couch with a lovesick grin, heat crawling up your neck.

On the other side of the table, Steve lay facing away, but he was grinning like an idiot.

“Steve, you can drop the act now. We know you’re not asleep.”

[solar-goddess]

𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 ‼️🍒❣️

|| Today i opened my notes app and found something i wrote few months ago which helped me alot. So i thought of sharing it with y'all because i think it will motivate y'all a lot. and also sorry if it's too harsh..i often do this because i really like tough love because it makes me motivated af. Also remember that by telling you to do the work and put the efforts, i mean apply what you know already. you definitely don't need to do any sorts of hardwork or smth but make sure to apply what you already know about the law. I promise you that you already know enough. Now it's finally time to apply whatever you know. Hope it will help y'all get motivated and get your shit together. ||

𝑮𝒆𝒕 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒕 𝑻𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 ‼️

𝐴𝑠𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓.

• Do you want your dream life bad enough?

• Are you tired of everything that's been happening?

• Are you tired of being disappointed in yourself?

• Do you finally want to change yourself?

• Do you realize how much time you've wasted?

• Do you realize that you've been repeating the same old mistakes?

• Do you realize that you've been running away always?

• Do you want to finally change and stop repeating the same mistakes?

• Do you realize that you should be putting the efforts and do the work?

• Do you realize that you have to stop procrastinating and being lazy?

IF YES, PLEASE STOP BEING LAZY. STOP PROCRASTINATING. STOP RUNNING AWAY. STOP REAPEATING THE OLD MISTAKES OVER AND OVER AGAIN. IT'S ALREADY ENOUGH. I KNOW YOU'RE TIRED BUT HOW LONG ARE YOU PLANNING TO KEEP RUNNING AWAY FROM THE SITUATION LIKE ALWAYS? DON'T YOU WANT TO CHANGE? PLEASE. I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING THROUGH BUT ONLY YOU CAN CHANGE YOURSELF. IF YOU WANT IT BAD ENOUGH, IF YOU'RE TIRED OF ALWAYS BEING LIKE THIS, IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE, YOU HAVE TO GET UP. YOU HAVE TO GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER. YOU HAVE TO PUT THE DAMN EFFORTS. YOU HAVE TO DO THE FUCKING WORK. STOP BEING A LAZY ASS BITCH. IF YOUR MENTAL HEALTH IS NOT GOOD, FUCKING START WORKING ON IMPROVING IT. IF SOMETHING IS NOT IN YOUR WAY, FUCKING START WORKING ON IT INSTEAD OF COMPLAINING, RUNNING, CRYING OR BEING DEPRESSED YOU BITCH. START WORKING ON YOUR SELF CONCEPT. YOU FUCKING CANNOT BE LIKE THIS FOREVER FOR GOD'S SAKE. YOU'RE FUCKING NOT AN EXCEPTION OR SOMETHING. YOU FUCKING DESERVE THE WHOLE MULTIVERSE AND BEYOND. REALIZE THAT. PLEASE, I BEG YOU. STOP SUFFERING AND START DOING THE DAMN WORK. IN THE END, YOU WILL FEEL PROUD THAT YOU DIDN'T GAVE UP, YOU DIDN'T RAN AWAY, INSTEAD YOU FACED YOUR FEARS. YOU WORKED ON YOURSELF. YOU IMPROVED YOURSELF. IMAGINE SAYING ONE DAY TO YOURSELF "I DID IT!". NOW IN ORDER TO SAY THAT, YOU HAVE TO PUT YOUR ASS UP TO WORK. PLEASE I CANNOT KEEP SEEING YOU LIKE THIS ALWAYS. CHANGE. WORK FOR YOUR DREAMS. ONE DAY YOU WILL BE LIVING YOUR DREAM LIFE. YOU ARE GOD. YOU CAN DO ANYTHING. STOP UNDERESTIMATING YOURSELF YOU BITCH. LIKE SERIOUSLY, IF YOU WANT IT BAD ENOUGH, IF YOU'RE TIRED OF BEING LIKE THIS, YOU WILL CHANGE. YOU WILL FUCKING DISCIPLINE YOURSELF NO MATTER WHAT. I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT. NOW, SERIOUSLY START PUTTING THE EFFORTS AND START DOING THE WORK. START DOING EVERYTHING YOU SHOULD BE DOING. GIVE IT YOUR ALL. IT WILL BE WORTH IT. THAT DAY IS NOT FAR AWAY WHERE YOU WILL BE LIVING YOUR DREAM LIFE WITHOUT A SINGLE WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING. YOU CAN DO IT & YOU WILL DO IT.

[nitewrighter]

Cindy Part 9

As always, for all parts, refer to the masterpost.

-----

“It’s foolproof,” the prince is fitting on a tricorne hat.

“It’s fool-something,” Brad mutters.

“It’s genius,” The prince is putting his hands on his hips and turning about in the mirror.

“It’s an enormous complication to security,” Brad is leaning against the wall in the Prince’s quarters.

“You’re just mad because you didn’t think of it first,” The prince is trying on a spare pair of reading glasses he nicked from his father’s office and checks his reflection again. He blinks a few times at how much clearer his own image is. Shit, he may actually need a prescription.

“I didn’t think of it because it’s an enormous complication to security,” Brad frowns.

“But I pull it off, right?” The prince steps out from behind the peacock-printed folding screen in full servant’s livery. He’s not wrong. The servant’s livery has fully activated the some-guyification of the prince. This is literally just some guy. It’s a perfect hide-in-plain-sight disguise. I mean he still looks good because goddamn if the king and queen don’t have amazing taste when it comes to their servants’ livery, but this brightly colored fancy lil outfit with perfectly tailored piping and fancy white gloves is enough to heavily distract from the prince’s face. And of course there’s the hat. The king and queen allow for the servants to have a little fun with their hats, decorate them with a feather or maybe a little sprig of flowers or maybe a cute brooch. They say it’s a ‘fun’ thing but also it’s this whole thing where they feel really rude going ‘You there, boy!’ and it’s hard to tell who’s who from far away with the uniforms so the hat flair doubles as visual shorthand for who’s who. The prince has opted for a hawk feather he found on one of his rides and he thinks this is really cool. It’s only kinda cool. But still he really looks like a servant. Brad honestly wonders why the prince’s jumpy, antisocial ass didn’t try something like this sooner.

“You pull it off,” Brad concedes, “But I’m not entirely sure what you mean to accomplish by doing it.”

“Easy!” The prince throws his hands up, “I finally figured it out! All the staff talked about how she was helping them all night at the ball, right? That’s one of the reasons why she showed up so late and well after the master of ceremonies finished announcing everyone!”

“Uh huh…” Brad says slowly.

“So if I’m a servant, and she treats me like shit, I’ll know it’s not her!”

“And what if all the shoe candidates treat you perfectly pleasantly?”

“Well it’s more than that, she goes out of her way to help people! She.. she grabs lemons from the garden! She sews… flowers in buttons!”

“Which reminds me, Danvers asked if you were going to give his jacket back, because he really does like it—”

“It’s evidence, Brad! He’ll get it back when we get to the bottom of this!”

“And you think coming along to every house along with me, will help you do that.”

“I know I’m going to know her when I see her, I—I—I can feel it.”

“And because you don’t trust the shoe.”

“PEOPLE HAVE SIMILAR FOOT SIZES AND THE SHOE DOES NOT OBEY THE LAWS OF PHYSICS. ”

“We’ve only had the laws of physics… like… what, 100 years? 200 years?”

“Longer. I mean, Newton cribbed a lot of it from Ibn Al-Haytham so…”

“You really do read too much. Anyway, what I’m saying is, maybe there’s another rule we haven’t thought of, yet.”

“And it chooses to manifest itself in a shoe?”

Brad makes an ‘I dunno sound.’ Brad is veering dangerously close to accidentally creating a new early theory of entropy before his brain manages to go, Wait the prince is tagging along for all of this and now I have to recalculate every house-casing for threats to the prince when he is not immediately recognizable as the prince. Do we leave a body-double at the palace? Goddammit I only have a couple hours to re-tool this entire fucking process.

The prince is looking at himself in the mirror again. He takes in a short huffing breath. “I think it’s definitely going to work.”

And for the most part it does.

Like, don’t get me wrong, a lot of it is still tedious as hell, but thankfully, a lot of ladies have been taken out of the running already, not by any previous shoe-related process of elimination from the Prince’s own investigations, but because, true to his word, the king matchmade the hell out of that ball in the Prince’s absence, and a lot of the attendants at the ball had already been paired off in perfectly respectable courtships. So the list is actually significantly reduced already thanks to the king’s efforts.

Still, plenty of the potential shoe-wearers don’t notice the prince any more than they notice their own furniture when they’re chatting up Brad and Gabe the valet. Sure, on a family scale, there are plenty of attempts at buttering up Gabe and Brad with tea and biscuits and fancy pickles and cold cuts, but thankfully Gabe is probably the biggest hard-ass in this story and is terrifyingly good at polite expediency, so the prince is just kind of watching Brad and Gabe speed-run through all these parents and their pretty daughters going, “Oh good sirs, welcome to our humble abode, won’t you have some terrine?” (a disturbing number of respectable families have been convinced that terrines and aspics are very fashionable and they’ll be the only ones cool and modern and cultured enough to offer it to the palace representatives—they are not.) But honestly… the prince is right. He can pretty much feel right off the bat, before the shoe is even tried on, if this isn’t the house—if that isn’t the girl.

They still try on the shoe, because obviously it’s a whole thing, and there’s this whole process about the whole thing. They measure the foot and take down the foot’s measurements on a fancy little table for future reference and research onto the properties of The Shoe that Defies All Measurement and Fitting (The prince thinks he’ll make a graph later… maybe a bell curve?? Mostly they just end up accidentally inventing those shoe-size carpets you see at shoe stores), but then the shoe doesn’t fit, and well… to be honest the reactions to the shoe not fitting turn out to be the most interesting parts of the whole thing.

“I’m having an allergic reaction. Foot’s just… swollen right up. This isn’t my usual foot size.”

“I’m really dehydrated. That’s why it’s clanking around like that. Let me get a couple of glasses of water and try again.”

“Mother? Would you have one of the maids get the lard tub?”

“Look! Behind you!” (Cue furious grunting of continuing to attempt to shove the shoe on when everyone turns around)

“Um… more cold cuts?”

“Oh thank god, this means I can join that convent.” (Cue a scandalized gasp and a furious splutter of “Amelia!” from a mother.)

And the thing is, you’d think your brain would end up glazing over all these house calls, especially when you’re looking for The Love Of Your Life. You’d think like… you’d get sick of it, get sick of people, but it turns out, when the Prince isn’t put at the epicenter of a weird ritualized glam-fest of girls competing for a chance to hop on his dick for status, when they aren’t even recognizing him as the prince, he’s actually seeing people in the context of their own homes. Like, sure, it’s definitely very appearances-minded from every family involved because they’re presenting their homes to representatives of the palace, but you pick up on vibes, you pick up on dynamics. It’s like Kitchen Nightmares: Bourgeoisie Household Edition. But also you see families that are trying to secure their futures, and girls who just want to do right by them.

There’s this one house, right? Beautiful estate—it’s on a hill all laced with vineyards and during the carriage ride there the prince is glancing at Gabe and he can tell Gabe is like, “God I hope this is the girl” partially out of exhaustion from this whole ordeal, partially because… yeah it’s a really nice estate and you wouldn’t mind sitting out on the veranda with a nice glass of chilled rosé. God Gabe wants a nice glass of chilled rosé right now. This house probably has the best snack spread yet with fancy toasted spiced nuts and sharp cheeses and olives and this really great flatbread stuff?? And the wine, holy shit, like… these families have been shoving forward black tea and lemonade and super sugary brandy to them all day, but now there’s a nice perfectly balanced white wine in these cute stemless glasses? And they’re even offering them to the prince, who, as far as they know, is a footman! Like after a day of all these families being really weird and desperate and stilted, the environment is just low-key and hospitable enough for both Brad and Gabe to be like, ‘God let this be Mystery Girl.’ And there’s this very wonderful family with loads of kids that are showing them around the estate with a very pretty eldest daughter, with bright green-brown eyes and big curly brown hair and a wide mouth that lends itself to charming expressions. And like… the prince is kind of thrown through a loop because the way this girl acts around her siblings… maybe it’s mystery girl? She’s kind of a mom, kind of an asshole when the mom can’t be, and all-around this peacemaker dealing with a messy but lovable family. Of course she wouldn’t talk about her family because family can be messy, right? Maybe all his thoughts of danger and peril and abuse for Mystery Girl sprang from him being so fucking removed from everything. Maybe he has no fucking good judgement of anything.

But then they try on the shoe.

And the shoe doesn’t fit.

And the girl’s mouth hitches and she’s just like, “…all right,” a little stiffly.

And you feel this collective crestfallen exhale from her parents and all her siblings. Like her next sister is only 11 and the sister after that is 8 so it’s like… yeah… all their hopes were resting on the eldest.

“You… you can take some of the flatbread with you, if you like, sirs,” the mother pipes up.

“I’m sorry,” the girl cuts in, “For… for wasting your time.”

“It’s fine,” the prince suddenly steps forward from his spot next to the door.

The girl instinctively springs to her feet and curtsies. “Your highness,” she says with a bow of her head.

The prince freezes. The girl’s whole family freezes. Brad freezes. Gabe is taking down notes, I don’t know what the fuck he’s writing down.

“…you knew?” The prince says slowly.

The girl looks at her family and draws herself up straight. “May we have the room?”

The parents very quickly herd all of the siblings out of the room. The prince gives an ‘It’s okay’ wave of his hand to Brad and Gabe and they back out as well. Not too far so they can’t spring into action if anything funny happens, but enough for a bit of discretion.

“I was three feet in front of you. Did… other girls not recognize you?” the girl asks.

“I’m pretty sure they’ve either got amazing poker faces or you’re the first.”

The girl gives an amused ‘Hmph’ and eases up where she’s standing a little. “I think… I should also apologize. I mean, yes I wanted to marry you, but I didn’t really care about… well… you… or my qualifications as queen, mostly I just wanted to…” the girl draws a breath through her teeth, “There was a drought a few years back and it threw our wine’s taste off and we had to raise our prices to cover the water cost. We lost a lot of customers and a lot of favor with the noble families that would usually be our patrons. Our wine’s better now, if anything, the acidity of the grapes that survived the drought lent to a better complexity of flavor with the new grapes, but… It turns out… a reputation is not as easily rebuilt as a vineyard is regrown.”

“You were trying to protect the people you love,” the prince shrugs.

The girl pushes her brown curls back from her face and looks down. “Big feet… great for crushing grapes…fitting into slippers.. not so much.”

“Mm,” the prince takes off his tricorn hat and itches at the back of his head, “You could… try it on again?”

“What?” The girl tilts her head.

“The slipper it’s like… it’s not a normal shoe. I’ve had glassmakers all over the country look at it. We’re mostly doing the foot-measurement thing to see if there’s any pattern, but like… so far? On a data-scale? Foot size is completely irrelevant. Maybe you just need to… try again?”

“It’s not me,” the girl clasps her hands in front of herself, that wide mouth quirking off to one side.

“How do you know?”

“Because I was looking at you the moment you saw her. The girl at the hors d’oeuvres table, right?”

“Do you remember what she looked like?” The prince asks on reflex, his voice denser and more desperate than he really means to sound but holy shit, a flicker of hope?

“No,” the girl replies and the prince’s shoulders sink, “I'm sorry. I really wish I could. But I saw her a while before, in the powder room. Another one of the girls was crying, some drama with her cousin or something, and.. and this girl, the girl you’re looking for, she was… holding her hands and fixing her hair, and helping dab away the smudges in her makeup, and she was saying, ‘It’s okay, you’re so pretty and brave. And this is going to be a wonderful night, I promise you, I promise you. Even if everything seems horrible now, you’re in this beautiful place. And you’re going to dance and laugh and you don’t have to let everything that hurt you take this night away.’ Just… I don’t think I would have remembered it, if not for this distinct feeling I got, that the girl who fits this slipper knew hurt more deeply than the girl crying right then would ever know.”

“I got that feeling too,” the prince says vacantly, “I mean—I wasn’t in the powder room—”

“I know, your highness.” The girl shrugs, she exhales. “I wish you all the luck in finding her.” She huffs a little. “If I may speak freely?”

“You may,” the prince replies.

“My family has this one super old story—something about a gold ball and a pond or something? But—when she’d finish the story, my grandma would tell me this: sometimes… a situation is well out of our understanding, and if that’s the case, we have to remember that appearances aren’t everything, that you have to trust your heart and your gut, and you should keep an eye out for the people who care for others at their lowest moments. Even if everyone else thinks they’re gross.”

“Like rats…?” The prince says absently.

“Rats?” The girl shudders hard. And that shudder tells the prince, ‘Nope. Definitely not mystery girl.’ “With their freaky little… clawed people-hands? Eugh. No. I was thinking… more like frogs?”

“Frogs have people hands,” the prince says vaguely.

“Frogs’ hands are webbed with four fingers. There’s a difference,” the girl rolls her eyes.

“Your highness?” Gabe sticks his head in the doorway, “I don’t mean to rush you, but…”

“Oh—” The prince glances back at the girl, “Er—thank you again for your hospitality.” He bows.

She curtsies in turn. “I hope you find her, your highness.”

“Thank you,” the prince replies.

“And once you find her.. if you need wine for the wedding…” the girl gestures vaguely and the prince snorts.

“We’ll be in touch,” he says, before stepping out with Brad and Gabe.

—-

“I’ll be honest, your highness, I’d really hoped it was her,” Gabe mutters, still taking notes in the carriage as the family waves them off.

“Brad? The palace provides wine for the castle guards, right?” The prince glances over at Brad.

“Mm-hmm,” Brad is munching on some flatbread. I mean the lady of the house said they could take some.

“And… I wouldn’t say they’re picky, are they?” The Prince tilts his head.

“You could cut it with pig piss and they wouldn’t notice,” Brad shrugs.

“Brad!” Gabe barks.

“I mean… no, your highness.”

“Let’s… order a few casks from this vineyard to have on tap at the palace?” The prince suggests, "And a few more casks for free access to the public at the harvest festival this year."

“A wise decision, your highness,” Gabe says, taking notes, “And a bold bit of proactivity, if I do say so myself.”

“It’s not that bold, I mean it’s good wine, we all tasted it,” the Prince mutters.

“He means it’s the most you’ve done in like, five years,” Brad says, still chewing on flatbread, “Aside from the glassmaker thing, I guess.”

“BRAD,” Gabe says, exasperated.

The prince just leans his head against the glass of the carriage window. “So how many more houses today?” He asks.

“Two more and then back to the palace to recap?” Gabe suggests.

The prince draws in a long tired breath. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s do this,” he says.

He keeps thinking of mystery girl while he’s seeing these families, but it’s not 100% this doomed yearning he’s been going through like in the previous days of his investigation—Mystery Girl would help these people. She’d make friends with girls like this. He keeps thinking of what she said when they were dancing. “I don’t like that, that’s fucked up!” And like… it’s really something to see these carefully laid out social dynamics actively poking and prodding these people into this weird ass situation. Like he has such a love-hate relationship with the shoe at this point, but he’s weirdly thankful for it, because it just seems to… disrupt every human preconception and every social construct it comes in contact with. It brings out a weird and authentic side of people, just as much as it refuses to fit, the crazy royalty-high stakes of the situation bring out this realization that people have so much different stuff going on.

That used to be so exhausting for him. Figuring out what’s going on with people, keeping it all lined up, helping where he can. It’s still exhausting, but the exhaustion doesn’t hit quite the same. He hits the mattress that night and he dreams… not of mystery girl… not quite. He’s chasing this ideal of a person but crashing into how people are over and over again. So this person he sees in his dream, he’s not sure it’s mystery girl, but it doesn’t matter if it’s mystery girl. It’s a bitter, complicated, stupid, selfish, awkward person, and he decides, in that moment, that he is going to do everything in his power to make sure they can live their best life.

Because he’s the goddamn prince. And that’s his fucking job. And dream or not, that's what Mystery Girl would do.

And just a few feet away from his pillow, that damn glass slipper is glittering on a pedestal in the moonlight.

[lancsnerd]

Desperate Measures - Steve Rogers Version

Summary: When an agent is affected by sex pollen and needs assistance, just how helpful will Steve be?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x f!reader

Words: 8.6k (longest fic I’ve ever written!)

Warnings: Smut (lots and lots, seriously), bad language, sort of dub-con due to sex pollen, bit of mutual pining, fluff and romance, definitely NSFW / 18+ only

A/N: This is the porn-with-plot companion fic to Desperate Times. Both can be read as stand-alone stories but can also be read together.

There are two versions of each story so the reader can choose their favourite - Steve or Thor (basic plot and opening text is the same but the rest is totally different). The Thor version can be found here.

All feedback and comments gratefully received. Masterlist is on my bio header.

*****

“Let me out of here. It hurts so much, I just wanna be touched.” You desperately banged a fist on the window of the med-bay quarantine room to get someone to take notice.

Not that that was a problem - the sight of your body, sweat-slicked and naked, pressed against the glass ensured that you had the undivided attention of most of the onlookers on the other side. No, the problem was getting them to give you what you needed. All they did was tell you to relax, that you weren’t in control to know what you were saying, that you would be better alone ‘for your own protection’. Idiots.

“Shouldn’t be watching this. Should not be watching this,” Sam muttered guiltily, trying and failing to find something else to focus on as your fingers slid between your legs in search of relief.

Tony’s eyes never wavered. “Speak for yourself, Birdman, I’m just catching up on what I missed during the flight back.”

Behind them, Steve was attempting to ignore the lewd distractions as he discussed options for treatment with Dr Cho. Easier said than done when the woman he’d been dreaming about for weeks was naked and being ogled by his friends. “OK, that’s the last of the blood samples that Bruce needs to work on the antidote. So what do we do with her in the meantime?” Seeing Thor about to speak, Steve pre-empted him. “Yes, you’ve made it perfectly clear what you’d do with her but that’s not gonna happen.”

Helen Cho’s cheeks warmed at the thought, but she managed to keep her composure. “We won’t have a treatment available for a good while yet and this will take hours to leave her system. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do except make her as comfortable in her own room as possible and let her work through it in private.”

Steve nodded. “The sooner the better. Let’s move her the same way she got her here. She won’t walk so I’ll carry her.”

There was a cacophony of protests, forcing Sam to raise his voice to be heard above the objections of the others. “Oh sure, Cap, and get another good groping from the naked, sex-crazed hottie while you do. No way, you don’t get to have all the fun.”

“Fine. So none of us can carry her on our own from now on.” Steve held up his hands in defeat, hoping that his disappointment wasn’t too obvious. “What other options do we have? She’s not going to just sit quietly on a gurney to be wheeled down there, anyone who gets close is gonna become her new plaything.”

Thor was still bitter that he’d not been the one to carry you from the jet. “That has never been a problem as far as I’m concerned.”

“Pretending I didn’t hear that,” muttered Helen under her breath. “Could you put her in restraints?”

Hearing the mention of restraints through the glass, you shouted eagerly from your medically-imposed prison. “Yes! Tie me down and fuck me any way you like. Please, I want you to.”

“So that’s one vote in favour of bondage.” The gleeful look on Tony’s face indicated there might actually be two votes. “Any other suggestions?”

*****

In the end, the only solution had been to carry you between them, spreadeagled with the team supporting one limb each. Frustratingly, being man-handled into your bedroom by a team of superhunks sounded a hell of a lot more fun than it actually was. There had been strong hands gripping your body but none of them where you so desperately wanted to be touched, no matter how much you begged and struggled. All attempts to get you dressed, even in underwear, had failed so a sheet had been draped over you, more for their sanity than anything else since there was no point in trying to protect your modesty by now. Wriggling fruitlessly and still pleading for sex, you only caught snippets of the conversations going on around you.

“It isn’t right to leave her alone, she’s asking for help ...”

“... can’t take advantage while she’s under the effects of this Hydra drug.”

“Careful, don’t let her get hold of you. Hold her legs wider apart ...”

“For the love of God, would you stop saying things like that!”

When they’d finally reached your room, you’d tried to beg one last time for someone to stay - for him to stay - but the words had got muddled as another powerful wave of lust had hit. Still, the fact you’d tried to climb Steve like a tree repeatedly and kept having to be dragged off before they could leave should have given them a damn clue.

As they’d finally managed to lay you down on the bed, still making desperate grabby hands at anybody in reach, his eyes had met yours and you’d seen the aching desire you felt reflected, his pupils blown wide. For one glorious moment, it had seemed like he would ignore the advice and stay with you, but Dr Cho had firmly ushered them out. And then you were trapped - alone, in pain and hornier than you ever thought possible.

And now, many unsatisfying climaxes later, you were slumped on the floor of the shower, cool water raining down and mingling with the tears that streaked your face, hardly caring about the cool droplets as they landed on your burning hot body. It wasn’t worth trying to use your toys any more, and even if you had the energy just the thought of hearing the buzz of a vibrator made your head ache. Your skin felt itchy, too tight, like an exposed nerve and nothing you did was enough to give respite. Nothing existed at that moment except the agonising need for sexual relief.

“... wanna come ... ah it hurts ... need to fuck ... please ...”

You barely noticed the sound of Helen’s voice echoing over the comms. Unable to focus on what she was asking through the haze of pain and lust, you kept on mumbling the words like a mantra. You knew it wouldn’t matter anyway - they’d made it extremely clear that no one was going to help you.

Slowly though, the doctor’s voice started to register until a few sentences caught your attention. “You just need to choose - Steve or Thor? Do you want either of them to join you?”

Oh hell yes. Either would be a wet dream come true but you wanted Steve more than anything, had wanted to get close to him for so long. “Yes, ugh yes ... please ... want him so bad .... that ass … those muscles ... oh oh god ... huge arms ... wanna lick ‘em ...”

Helen’s comments faded into the background as thoughts of him filled your mind. Memories of a sparring session a few weeks earlier. Strong hands sliding round your waist, gripping your hips tightly as he manoeuvred your body into an attacking stance. His warm breath tickling your neck as he pressed you against the wall, overwhelming you with his sheer power. Oh, the things you wanted to do to that man. “... looks so fucking good in that blue suit ... wanted to rip it off him ...”

As the memory played out in your head, another bout of desire hit your already-aroused body and the need to be touched overwhelmed everything else. Your eyes closed, losing yourself in your fantasy as your fingers moved lower. “Want his face between my thighs ... those blue eyes looking up at me ... fingers buried, stroking so deep. Tangling my fingers in that beautiful blonde hair ... tongue flicking across my clit ... over and over ... oh fuck ... yes yes ... ” Your voice broke into a shuddering moan as you came, pain numbed by the temporary bliss of release.

A question over the comms pulled you out of your post-orgasmic daze and back to reality. “Who are you talking about?”

Concentrate. You tried one more time to explain what you needed, the extra flood of endorphins helping to clear your mind just enough for you to focus. “Want him pressing me into the bed ... inside me, filling me ... fucking me hard ... so hard ... Steve ...”

As you spoke his name, there was a commotion over comms and the sound abruptly clicked off, giving no indication whether your words had got through or not. Letting out a frustrated sob you stumbled to your feet, barely remembering to turn the shower off, and staggered from the bathroom in the direction of the door, leaving a trail of damp footprints in your wake. Enough was enough. If they hadn’t got the message by now, you’d find a way to escape this goddamn place.

When you reached the door though, there was the unmistakable thud of heavy footsteps in the corridor outside followed by a growl of “Open it or I’ll smash it down” that made your pulse quicken.

As the door slid open you were face to face with a half-naked super-soldier. The top half of his stealth suit was hanging off, the straps and buckles undone or abandoned along the way in his eagerness to reach you and the sight of such muscled perfection was almost more than you could bear. On instinct, your hands shot forward to grab his belt, dragging him into the room. The door hadn’t even swooshed shut again before your bodies moulded together.

Steve’s mind barely registered how he had ended up here, logic and sense momentarily lost to his overwhelming need to taste you, feel you, claim you. Mouths searching for each other hungrily, exploring every available inch of bare flesh in a frantic tangle of limbs as raw passion consumed you both in a fiery blaze. The heat radiating from your feverish body as his hands slid over your skin was a sharp reminder of his current mission though.

Sliding an arm around your waist he manoeuvred you towards the large wooden table at the side of the room, reluctantly breaking contact with your lips and drawing back as he seated you on the edge of it. “I’m here to help you, is that okay?”

You were grabbing at his arms, desperate for his touch. “Yes, god yes, it hurts so much. Want you so bad.”

“You’re sure?” Despite the careful tone of his words, there was no disguising the unbridled lust in his eyes, or the way his gaze travelled over your naked form. His self-control was just barely hanging by a thread.

“I need to come. Make me come.”

Your whimpered plea was all it took for him to comply and with a growl, he surged forwards, powerless to resist. His only thoughts devoted to you and the desire to taste every inch of your body. Eager hands pawed at your breasts, your thighs, your ass, kneading the tender flesh roughly while he travelled along your throat, tongue laving at the delicate skin. Each touch drawing breathless gasps and moans that drove him wild. Dropping his head lower, his lips slid across your collarbone and down the swell of your chest, leaving a glistening trail of open-mouthed kisses in their wake.

In your heightened state of arousal, every sensation was electric, sending a jolt of desire to your core. A single wet flick across your nipple had you trembling, fingers tangling in his hair in the search for the extra stimulation you craved. Two slow circles around your areola, warm breath fanning across the wet skin, and the anticipation was almost unbearable. Three pecked kisses to the pebbled bud and you could barely breathe. Then his mouth closed over the peak and all rational thought was lost, your mind and body succumbing to intense bliss.

Steve sucked hard, pressing a hand to your lower back to keep you close as you arched against him with a wail. Damn you were addictive, every cry you made had his cock straining against the confines of his uniform. He was already fully erect and desperate to be touched, at this rate he knew he wouldn’t last long. Forcing himself to slow down, he relaxed his lips to give softer, rhythmic tugs at your nipple before returning to lap at your flesh, circling with the flat of his tongue whilst his hand slid lower.

You barely noticed the motion of his fingers along your stomach, too focussed on the intense pulses of arousal at your breast. There was no ignoring it though when his hand edged nearer to your soaked core, fingertips brushing your inner thigh and moving upwards, so close to where you needed him most. Tantalising caresses over your labia, perfect and yet nowhere near enough. Desperate for more, you clung to him, hips jerking upwards into his touch as his fingers stroked through the slick arousal pooled between your thighs and finally found your swollen clitoris.

Releasing your nipple from his hot mouth, he pressed a last kiss to the overstimulated bud and turned his attention to your other breast, squeezing and licking the soft flesh. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I got you.”

His fingers rubbed gentle circles to spread your wetness, swiftly building the speed and intensity as your moans increased in volume until he knew you must be close. Moving his thumb to tap lightly on your pearl, he slid two fingers into your dripping core, loving how your silken heat pulsed greedily around them. Plunging deep, stroking and probing. His hot mouth continued its assault on your breast whilst his long fingers curled and searched for the precise spot that made your legs quiver and your eyes roll back in your head. As he stroked your inner walls, he took your nipple between his teeth, nipping firmly, and that was what pushed you over the edge into oblivion. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, collapsing against him with a shuddered cry.

You were in heaven and Steve was right there with you. Seeing your raptured expression, feeling the tremors wracking your body, hearing your whimpers had him achingly hard and leaking in his pants. Still, he wanted to give you more, wanted to make you fall apart again before he gave in to his own needs. While your core still pulsed around his fingers he laid you back on the table and knelt between your legs.

Too far gone, you didn’t even register the cold surface against your heated skin or the way that he ducked to support your thighs on his shoulders. It was impossible to ignore, though, when his thumb was replaced by the wet swirl of his wicked tongue around your clitoris. “St… Steve! Oh my god.”

Before you had a chance to react further, a large hand splayed across your pelvis to pin you down and stop you from squirming away. He looked up at you briefly from between your thighs, pupils blown so wide that the blue was barely visible. “Relax.” Then he dipped his head back down to devour you.

His tongue lapped hungrily, flicking across your sensitive nub over and over. Sucking at your tender flesh whilst his fingers pushed in once more to press and tap against your g-spot. He was insatiable, focussed on giving you another orgasm whilst your mind and body were still reeling from the first. Every lick earned him another desperate moan that drove him crazy. The urge to taste more of you was all-consuming and he withdrew his fingers from your dripping slit and plunged his tongue inside.

You were helpless as hands grasped your ass to keep his face firmly buried in your pussy. There was no respite from the sweet torment and you willingly surrendered yourself to him. Lost to everything but the pleasure he gave you, unable to form words beyond his name. The aching need for release surged through you again as pressure built in your core, the aphrodisiac chemicals in your body and Steve’s tongue quickly taking you to the razor-edge of another climax. Your back arched off the table, fingers scrabbling at the smooth surface for something, anything to hold onto as Steve ate you out like a man possessed.

He probed and thrust in your entrance, eagerly lapping up your juices before licking along your slit with the flat of his tongue, revelling in your helpless moans and whimpers. Alternating between featherlight flicks and strong powerful strokes as he learnt your body’s secrets. Finally, when your trembling thighs clenched tighter around his head to signal you were close, his lips enclosed your throbbing clit and one last hard suckle was all he needed to make you come undone. Groaning in satisfaction as your release gushed into his mouth and you writhed in pleasure against his face, he continued to press gentle kisses to your pulsing core, only stopping when your hand pushed desperately at his forehead.

You squirmed away from him, past the point of overstimulation. “No… stop… too sensitive…”

“Uh, sorry.” The lascivious swirl of his tongue across his lower lip as he moved back from your soaked pussy indicated that he was anything but sorry. The sight of you spread open before him had his cock throbbing, the uniform pants now painfully tight. He swiftly shed his remaining clothing, hissing at the feel of cool air on his engorged flesh.

With your senses rapidly returning, you sat up to observe him. There was so much to admire but your eyes were drawn inexorably to the long, thick cock that bobbed against his stomach, head swollen red and slick with precum.

Your hand reached of its own accord, unable to resist. Slowly, you trailed a delicate fingertip along the prominent throbbing vein along the underside, fascinated by each twitch under your touch. Then you wrapped your fingers around him, loving the feel of it molten-hot and heavy in your palm.

He could barely breathe. All those times he’d imagined this moment and yet his wildest dreams paled in comparison to the reality. So many nights he’d lain in bed imagining it was your soft little hand around his cock instead of his own fist, chasing his release with images of you filling his mind. Every stroke was paradise and his hips jerked forward to push further into your hand. A sudden swirl of your thumb, smearing glistening pre-spend around the swollen head, had him throbbing dangerously though and he reluctantly pulled out of your grip with a shuddered gasp.

He had to be inside you and feel your perfect slick warmth snug around his cock. Pulling your thighs apart with your ass perched on the edge of the table, he stepped closer until his weeping tip grazed your entrance, pausing despite the desperate need coursing through his veins. “I have to hear you say it.”

You almost sobbed with need as you lay back onto the table. “Yes, please yes.”

“I need more, baby. Tell me you want me to do this.”

And then you spoke the words he’d fantasised about for so many weeks.

“Fuck me, Steve.”

He’d always sworn he would take things gently at first, easing slowly into your tight cove, making love to you with languid rolls of his hips as he whispered words of devotion. But with your sweet taste still lingering on his tongue and your lush body in front of him, begging to be taken, raw desire took over. No thoughts in his mind other than one - to fuck your goddamn brains out.

With a growl, he hooked a forearm under your knee to spread you wider and thrust forward sharply to bury himself to the hilt in your eager pussy. Even though you were more than ready for him it was a stretch, your core fluttered wildly as he filled you completely. A brief sting of pain before the pleasure overwhelmed your senses, your cries echoed with his low groan of pure wanton relief. The clench of your velvet-soft heat around him had his cock throbbing and he was harder than he ever thought possible.

The needy grip of your slick walls as he pulled back was overwhelming and his hips jerked forward again to slide back into you, powerless to resist his base need for friction. With a grunt of satisfaction, he paused for a moment once he was sheathed fully, chest heaving with the effort of holding back. Then he let loose. He set a punishing rhythm, fucking you hard and fast. Fingers gripped your waist, deep enough to leave bruises, as he pulled and pushed you onto his cock like a man possessed, determined to have you screaming his name so the entire building would know who you belonged to.

The lewd slap of skin against skin filled the air, punctuated with breathy moans and cries as you both spiralled towards climax. He pounded into you relentlessly, his heavy sac slapping against your ass with every stroke, knocking the breath from your lungs and making your breasts bounce with each powerful press of his hips. Even with your legs wrapped tight around his waist, every hard thrust sent you sliding back and forth across the tabletop. Steve was an erotic fantasy, muscles flexing with the exertion, sweat running down his chest in rivulets. Watching him splitting you open on his massive cock was overwhelming, every nerve in your body burning white-hot with desire and you had to touch.

Seeing your desperate grabby hands, he leant forward to wrap an arm round you and pull you upright, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you clung to him. An inhale of your scent, heady and sweet, then his mouth attacked your skin, sucking and nipping to mark you as his.

Snaking a hand between your bodies, the pad of his thumb found your swollen bundle of nerves and pressed firmly. It was the last straw and you came with a shuddered wail, fingernails raking along his back as the tight coil of pleasure in your core unravelled.

His thrusts grew sloppier, more frantic as your inner walls pulsed around him, desperately chasing his own high until he came with a roar, flooding your sex. Pleasure crashed over him like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from his lungs. He stayed inside you, riding out his orgasm as you lay quivering against his chest, gasping and utterly spent. Clasping you tight in his arms to prolong the pleasure, wishing this moment could last forever. Only when the aftershocks had subsided did he reluctantly relax his hold.

With the pain from the chemicals subdued by the endorphins flooding your system, you were hardly aware of him grabbing cloths to clean you up and wipe away the sweat from your exertions. Loose-limbed and sated, you snuggled against his broad chest as he tenderly scooped you up and carried you into the bedroom. He aimed to set you down on the bed but that presented a problem. The sad reminders of your lonely struggle against the aphrodisiac controlling your body littered the tangled sheets. A bewildering array of vibes, dildos, and other things he didn’t recognise but was very interested to learn more about later if you’d allow it.

Cradling your limp frame against him with one arm, he swept the toys aside to make room, trying not to get distracted by the tantalising thought of watching you pleasuring yourself with each of them. Once there was space he laid you down carefully, placing his hand on your forehead for a few seconds to check your temperature before straightening up.

Already missing his touch, your eyes flickered open in alarm. “No, don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart, just grabbing some water for you.” He bent to place a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Relax.”

Water wasn’t uppermost in your mind as you watched him stride across the room, but you were most definitely feeling thirstier by the minute. Up til now, you’d been too distracted, too lust-drunk to properly admire him in all his naked glory but now you were lucid enough to appreciate his breathtaking masculine beauty. Thick cock swinging between muscled thighs, broad shoulders tapering to those slim hips and oh that butt. You had a front-row seat to admire the pert rounded bounce of America’s Ass, and your fingers itched to squeeze and grab. Or maybe spank.

The sight of him returning to sit next to you on the bed only served to increase your lust. You didn’t know if it was a lingering effect of the sex pollen or your natural sexual attraction to him, but your libido wasn’t showing any sign of slowing. Taking a bottle from him, you hoped it would slake one thirst at least. “Thanks.” You took a long gulp of the cool liquid and closed your eyes, sighing gratefully at the refreshing chill.

This time it was his turn to stare, drink paused part way to his lips as he watched a few stray droplets of condensation drip from your bottle onto your breast. Leaving a shining trail on your skin that was just made for him to trace with his tongue if you were willing. And given the way you’d been ogling his ass, he was optimistic about his chances. Setting his drink aside, he scooted towards you, thumb drawing soft circles on your hip. “So, um, how are you feeling now?”

Even this gentle touch had heat pooling between your thighs and you wanted so much more. Sadly, the dull ache of chafed skin and sore muscles was a reminder that you were only human. “Honestly? I’m still horny as hell—” You’d hardly gotten the words out before he pounced, and in a heartbeat he was flat on his back with you straddling him, hands fondling your backside. “—but I’m gonna need a little time-out.”

He paused immediately, his face a perfect mixture of disappointment and concern. ”Shit, I didn’t think, are you in pain or …”

You silenced him with a kiss. “Hush, I’m fine. Just take it slow, I’m not used to being fucked senseless by a well-endowed super-soldier.”

The sudden flush of colour on his cheeks might have been the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. How could you not love a man who could take control of your body to give you three of the best orgasms of your life, a man who currently had you spread bare on top of him, and yet he blushed like a shy schoolboy at a compliment? He was utterly perfect and you were powerless to resist.

Your hand slid to the back of his neck, leaning closer and his mouth closed over yours, tentative at first but with increasing hunger. All aches and pains were forgotten, consumed by the desire that blazed hot once more. Right now, you didn’t know if it was the residual effects of the sex pollen or simply natural body chemistry that made you thirst for him, all you knew is that you wanted him.

He let out a soft appreciative moan as your lips left a wet line of kisses on his collarbone and across his chest. As you shuffled lower down his body though, he realised what your intentions were. The mere thought of having your mouth on his cock made his balls tighten, but still he protested weakly. “No, you’re tired. You don't have to do this, we can wait.”

“But I want to.” Your lips continued to press open-mouthed kisses on their slow journey down his torso. “Just relax, let me taste you.”

The gasped curse and the grind of his pelvis against you left no doubt that he wanted that too as he settled back on the pillows with a sigh. His cock was hardening rapidly, twitching between your bare breasts as you worked your way down unhurriedly. Your mouth moved slowly over his body, tracing the defined contours of his chest and the line of faint golden hairs leading down from his navel until you reached your target.

Big. Thick. Hot. All yours.

His cock was already leaking shimmering beads of pre-cum, and you used your thumb to smear it around his reddened tip and over the sensitive ridge under the head. Each glide of your thumb encouraged a groan from him, gaining in intensity with each circle you drew until you knew he couldn’t take much more teasing. Still, you had to have a taste. The tip of your tongue flicked across his frenulum, just grazing the skin. Greedily, you licked a long, slow stripe along the underside of his cock from root to tip with the flat of your tongue, tracing the thick vein that throbbed angrily, and the noise he made was barely human.

Having him surrender to you like this was turning you on more than you ever thought possible. Reaching between your legs, you pressed the heel of your hand to your clit to briefly relieve the ache while your fingers dipped into your slit, coating them in a slick mixture of your arousal and his cum.

Withdrawing your hand from your core, you wrapped it firmly around his base and gave a few experimental pumps that had him thrusting into your grip. Using your juices to slide along his shaft in easy strokes you worked him up and down, lapping eagerly at his swollen tip. Guided by his moans, you adjusted speed and intensity, setting a steady rhythm.

It didn’t take long before he was rock-hard, hot and heavy in your hand, pre-spend dripping copiously down his shaft and over your fingers. Still pumping his shaft, you dipped your head lower to tongue at his sac. Circling and teasing, sucking one into your mouth and tugging lightly until his hips were bucking up uncontrollably and he was openly begging for release. Finally, you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him as you slowly worked your lips along his shaft. Sucking him greedily, deeper with each bob of your head, stretching your jaw wide, drool dripping from your chin.

The perfect wet suction of your lips around his cock drew helpless whines from him. His chest heaved, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping the pillow tightly above his head, desperately trying to delay his rapidly approaching climax. Your mouth felt so damn good and he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer.

“Argh yes … no, wait … gonna come.”

Releasing his cock from your mouth briefly, you gave him a quizzical look. “I thought that was the idea?”

“Yeah … but I … don’t want to assume … do you want … “ He was struggling to form a coherent sentence as your hand continued to stroke him lazily. “Should I pull out?”

God, you loved the filthy innocence of this man. Rather than answering, you took the direct approach. Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your lips around him and swallowed him almost to the hilt.

“Ohfuckohgod, you’re amazing.” The combination of you looking up at him through your lashes and the sight of his cock sliding into your beautiful mouth was pure pornography. His hands fisted in your hair, unconsciously jerking his hips up, forcing you to stretch your lips even wider.

He was so big, too big, but you were determined to take all of him. With a choked moan, you sucked him deeper until he hit the back of your throat and felt his entire body tense below you. He groaned brokenly, eyes rolling back in his head as hot ropes of cum spurted down your throat.

You held him deep in your mouth until his release ended, savouring the earthy tang of him, before slowly withdrawing, taking him to the edge of overstimulation with gentle suction as he pulsed weakly against your tongue. Once he was thoroughly spent, you crawled back up his body to cuddle with your head on his shoulder, your thumb tracing small circles on his chest while his heart rate slowly returned to normal.

Letting out a shaky breath, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That was incredible.”

“My pleasure,” you purred, with more than a hint of pride knowing you had the power to reduce this huge man to a whimpering wreck. “Happy to do it any time.”

“Maybe later.” In one fluid motion, he grabbed one of the vibrators from the edge of the bed and rolled you underneath him, pinning you to the bed. “But right now, it’s my turn again.”

*****

You’d lost count of orgasms long ago, and life could not have been any more perfect. Sitting between his legs with your head resting on his chest and his arms resting gently around your middle, you were snug and happy and thoroughly spent.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Your skin feels cooler, sweetheart, I think that’s a good sign. Do you feel like you’re out of danger now?”

Oh yeah, the sex pollen. If you were being honest, you’d forgotten all about it at this point and you did a quick self-inventory. A little tired but the fog of confusion had lifted, and no more muscle cramps or fever. Definitely still horny as hell but you were inclined to think it had nothing to do with Hydra chemicals now and everything to do with the fact that a super-powered sex machine was in your bed.

“No actual pain any more. I mean, I’m quite sore in places but in a good way. Feels like the chemicals are finally out of my system.” As the words left your mouth you were suddenly acutely aware of the implications. If the effects of the pollen were gone, maybe this adventure had to end. Worse, there was the possibility that you were lying naked with someone who was only here out of a sense of duty with no real feelings for you. Someone that was way, way out of your league.

Self-consciously you shuffled out of Steve’s embrace, avoiding his attempts to pull you close again. “I’m gonna get a shower and clean myself up a bit.”

“Sounds like a plan, how about I join you?”

“No don’t bother, I can manage by myself,” you blurted out, grabbing a shirt to hide from view on your way to the bathroom. Glancing back from the doorway though, you saw his eager smile fade at the unexpected harshness of your tone and relented. “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap. It’s just been a really weird day.”

He nodded in agreement. “Can’t argue with that. Writing the post-mission update for Fury is gonna be really interesting.”

“The first X-rated Captain America mission report. It’ll be tough to take you seriously when you use the word ‘debriefing’ after this.” The feeble joke was enough to break the sudden tension and get a chuckle out of him, but insecurity was nagging at you. “Steve, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I just wondered why you—” Your voice trailed off, courage deserting you as his earnest gaze met yours. How could you ever hope that this beautiful man would see this as anything more than sex? You were just another mission, another problem to solve. Better to keep quiet and hang on to your deluded fantasies of mutual attraction a little longer than to hear how this was simply him helping out a colleague. “Never mind, it’s not important. Forget it, I’m still a little loopy from the chemicals.”

Before he could respond, the bathroom door had closed behind you and he was left alone. The silence was quickly replaced by the steady pitter-patter of the shower and Steve lay back, pondering over your unfinished question and the events of the day. A day that had been run-of-the-mill at first, a normal mission investigating an enemy base until there’d been the message that he feared the most - you’d been hurt. He’d raced to get to you, heart thudding painfully in his chest, recklessly taking out anyone that got in his way. Terrified he’d lost you before you were even his.

Now he was here, in the bed of the woman he’d yearned for, and yet you weren’t truly his. He’d fucked you hard and fast, made love to you slow and gentle, explored and tasted every inch of your body, seen you fall apart in bliss because of him. It was everything he’d dreamt about … but only because of the damn sex pollen. You’d chosen him when asked though, that at least gave him hope that you might actually return his feelings. He had to tell you how he felt and pray that you felt the same.

With a new plan of action decided, the wait seemed interminable and he needed a few deep, calming breaths when he heard the water finally shut off. Shifting to sit on the edge of the bed closest to the vanity mirror he checked his reflection and ran a nervous hand through his hair to smarten it up as best he could, glancing at the door in anticipation of your reappearance. Several minutes later though, the door was still locked and it was worryingly quiet.

Your health was temporarily his main concern again. “Is everything okay in there? Do you need me to call the medics?”

“No, I’m fine. Be out in a minute,” you responded quickly. The last thing you wanted was for other people to turn up and send him away. Then again, hiding in the bathroom wasn’t much of a plan either. All you were doing was delaying the inevitable moment when he’d realise his obligation to you was over and you’d be alone again. Taking a final critical glance at your unruly damp hair, you sighed resignedly and reached for the door handle.

Despite the hours spent exploring your body, the sight of you still took Steve’s breath away. The fluffy towel wrapped snugly around your frame was barely big enough to protect your modesty and only served to emphasise the sweet curves and lines that he adored. Even better, the evidence of his efforts was clear - reddish-purple patches blooming on your neck and inner thighs - and the recollection of you writhing under him in bliss, moaning so sweetly whilst he made each mark, made his dick twitch and stiffen once more. God, you were a hell of a woman.

Taking your hand to pull you closer, your apparent reluctance took him by surprise and he released his hold. “How are you feeling now?”

“Just about normal again, no sex pollen symptoms any more.” Perching next to him, you pulled the towel tighter in a futile attempt to cover more skin. “Seems like your work here is done, Captain. Mission accomplished.”

His heart lurched painfully. “Is that all you think this was to me, just part of my job?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you and I wouldn’t have gotten together otherwise would we?” You gave him a weak smile, figuring you owed him some honesty at least. “Just because I’ve spent months fantasising about you doesn’t mean that you feel the same. You’re a literal flawless superhuman and I’m just—”

He didn’t give you a chance to finish, surging forward to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that he hoped would leave you in no doubt as to how he felt. When he reluctantly pulled back you had barely moved, staring at him wide-eyed and breathless. Cradling your face in one hand, his thumb caressed your cheek softly as he leaned closer once more. “Sweetheart, don’t you realise how perfect you are? Don’t you see how hard you make me, I can hardly keep my hands off you.”

Your hand, still tightly clutching the towel closed across your chest, was enveloped by his but he made no move to undress you. Only when you relaxed your grip and gave him a small nod of assent did he slowly tug at the unwanted fabric and let it fall to the bed, exposing your body to him once more. Still you sat motionless, watching his face intently as his gaze travelled over your nakedness, reeling from the possibility that all this could be real.

“So. Goddamn. Gorgeous.” His tone was hushed, in awe of the goddess in front of him. Yet he could still see the doubt in your eyes. Maybe it’d take more than words to convince you? Not a problem. Steve was more than happy to show his dream girl just how sexy she was.

Slowly, reverentially, his fingertips stroked along your leg from knee to thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Caressing the curve of your hip and over your abdomen. Palming the soft swell of your breasts with a tenderness that made you tremble with anticipation. Mapping your body with his touch as if it were something precious to be worshipped. Just when you thought you might combust, he took your hand in his, guiding you onto his lap so you were facing away from him. Strong arms enveloped you, pulling you close with your back resting flush on his chest and your eyes fluttered shut, savouring his warmth against your skin.

His mouth traced a line of rough kisses along your throat, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling your head to one side gently to give him better access. Nibbling and sucking at your delicate skin and relishing the way your breath hitched when his lips grazed your pulse point. With a satisfied hum, he concentrated his efforts, nuzzling at that sensitive spot until you were squirming against him, pressing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache in your core. Licking along the shell of your ear, he murmured “Open your eyes, baby. See how beautiful you are.”

Doing as he asked, it took a moment for you to focus on the reflection in the mirror. Kiss-swollen lips, hair messy, skin mottled with love bites, you looked just as you’d expected - lust-drunk and thoroughly fucked. Not exactly your idea of beautiful, and instinctively you tried to turn away from the sight but Steve’s grip on your hair forced you to meet his gaze. His eyes were full of sinful adoration and in that moment you knew you would let this man do anything to you.

“Love touching you so fuckin’ much.” With a smile, he began to explore your body again, making sure you were watching every move he made. His hand fondled your breast, kneading gently, tweaking and tugging the hardened nipple between thumb and forefinger. “Look how you fit in my hands, like you were made just for me.”

His other hand slid down between your thighs, first brushing across your clit with one rough fingertip, then tapping and rubbing gently in teasing strokes that made your pussy clench with the need to be filled. Every pitchy little gasp you made sending blood surging to his cock so fast it made his head spin and he couldn’t wait. Dipping between your lower lips, he groaned deeply. “Shit, you’re so wet already.”

With your knees placed either side of his, it was easy to part your legs, his strong thighs holding you open. In that position, he had the glorious view of your juicy cunt swallowing his fingers so prettily. It was a filthy fantasy, but right now he’d much rather see you stretched around his girth instead, watch you taking him inch by inch. Adjusting position so he was nestled snug along your entrance, he exhaled a shaky breath at the wet friction. “Wanna be inside you so bad.”

“Good evening.” Dr Cho’s disembodied voice over the comms made you both jump. “I’m checking how you are - your vital signs seem to have returned to more or less normal.”

You were barely able to form a coherent sentence, dizzy with desire watching his rigid cock glide between your labia, shining slick with your arousal. “Oh god yes. Um, I mean … yeah I’m feeling good now, Helen.”

Steve hummed his agreement, warm breath fanning your skin as his teeth nipped at your earlobe. “You do feel so, so good. My good, sweet girl.”

Grasping your plush ass firmly, he lifted you just enough to line himself up with your core, pausing to savour the exquisite moment when the tip pushed into you once more. Then his pelvis jerked upwards and his groan of pleasure mingled with yours as he bottomed out inside you.

Dr Cho chose to ignore the lewd sound effects. “Everything alright in there?”

Everything was VERY alright. Your head lolled back onto Steve’s shoulder as he took you apart. Each powerful thrust seemed to force him deeper, filling your tender pussy to its limit until you were sure he would break you in two. Was it possible to die of pleasure? At this point, you didn’t care, death by Steve’s cock was a worthy way to go.

“It’s … fine … I’m … uhhhhh fuuuuck … fine,” you panted, the breath punched out of you with each sharp snap of his hips as he impaled you on his cock. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, firmly dragging you up and down his length as he spread his legs wider, forcing your thighs further apart. With you spread open wide for him, the change in angle was perfect to brush against your g-spot with every stroke and you bit your lip to try to muffle your moans.

Unfortunately, Helen just wouldn’t take the hint and let you focus on getting absolutely railed. “Maybe I need to run some more tests. You don’t seem to be very lucid.”

“You can stop worrying, Doc. I’m staying here to take real good care of her.” Steve paused his thrusts to growl a response, grinding up into you while a hand slid across to stroke your swollen, tender clit. His gaze was fixed on the mirror, determined to see you cum for him one more time. Hungrily watching the slick gush of arousal and pre-cum seeping from your cunt and dripping down his sac with each roll of his hips.

Across the compound in the med bay, Dr Cho was still doing her best to stay focussed. “Look, I realise you’re enjoying yourselves but it’s my job as chief medical officer to ...”

You’d had enough of conversation. “FRIDAY, block all comms.”

“But I have to ...”

Two voices spoke in unison. “Fuck off, Helen.”

*****

You woke feeling more rested than you had in a long while. Lying on your side, still half-asleep, you tried to stretch and realised with a start there was a heavy arm resting on top of you. A huge, warm body touching yours. Soft lips kissing your cheek.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Steve’s voice was rough, still thick with sleep, and your libido was suddenly wide awake.

“Um, hi.” You kept your eyes closed, needing a few more seconds to mentally ready yourself for the sight that awaited you. “What time is it?”

“Nearly noon. I tried not to wake you, since you obviously needed your rest. And it gave me a chance to see how cute you looked when you’re asleep.”

Surprised by the flattery, you opened your eyes to a sight you could never tire of. Tousled golden hair framing his chiselled features, pale blue eyes gazing at you intently and his lips … oh those perfectly plump lips that were impossible to resist. Reaching over, you cupped the back of his neck and pulled him into a lingering kiss, trying to memorise the feel of his mouth on yours. “Thank you for … for everything.”

“My pleasure. I’m very happy that you chose me instead of Thor.” Happy didn’t begin to describe how he felt at this moment. Hearing his name fall from your lips as he’d taken you again and again through the night had been better than he’d ever imagined. And when he’d woken with you in his arms, so soft and peaceful snuggled against his chest, it was as though he’d finally found the missing piece of his heart after all these years. Stroking your cheek tenderly, he dared to finally hope you might feel the same. “When we get out of here, would you …”

Before he could finish his question though, the toe-curling reality of yesterday’s events hit you in a wave of embarrassment. “OH MY GOD, everyone saw me naked. And playing with myself. And begging for sex. Ugh.” Burying your face in his chest, you cringed at the memory. “Never going to be able to look anyone in the face ever again. I’ll have to change my name and move to another country. SHIELD can do that, right?”

He hugged you closer, softly kissing your forehead. “Don’t worry about it, baby, you did nothing wrong. Everyone knows it was the chemicals that were responsible for the way you acted.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, no need to over-react. I’m sure I’ll get used to being known as Nympho Girl or whatever godawful nickname Tony comes up with.” The ominous silence made you realise that it might be even worse than you’d thought. “Oh fuck, he’d already thought of one hadn’t he?”

He couldn’t look you in the eye. “Agent Rampant Rabbit.”

“Noooooooo! Why did this have to happen to me? Please tell me there’s a drug to wipe everyone’s memories.”

“It’ll be okay, I promise. If Tony or anyone else teases you about this they’ll have to answer to me. I’ll happily kick some ass if they get out of line.” His lips curled into a sly grin. “Unless it’s Natasha obviously.”

You snorted, giving him a gentle nudge in the ribs with your elbow. “My hero.”

“Hey, I’m not dumb enough to pick a fight with her, not even for you.” He slid two fingers under your chin and gently tilted your face towards his. “Seriously, don’t worry. No matter what happens outside this room, we can deal with it together.”

Together. A simple word that had your heart racing. “So you’re volunteering to be my knight in shining armour?”

“I’d like to be much more than that if you’ll let me.” It was now or never. Steve swallowed thickly, hoping you couldn’t tell how fast his heart was beating. “How would you like to be my girl?”

“Hell yes!” The words tumbled out of your mouth before your brain had the chance to fully process what he’d asked. There was only ever going to be one answer to that question, and the warmth of the smile that lit up his face told you he understood. Still, you felt you owed him a more considered reply. Cupping his face tenderly, you caressed his cheek with your thumb, losing yourself for a moment in his crystal-blue gaze. “I mean - yes, I’d love to be your girl.”

His mouth captured yours in a breathless kiss, his tongue sliding along the seam of your lips, begging for access that you happily granted. Hands wandered in an unhurried exploration of each other’s bodies, a slow dance of yearning and desire. Intertwined in a tangle of sheets, it didn’t take long for you to feel the evidence of his arousal nudging insistently against your hip. So many hours of debauched pleasure and he was still eager for more - you were a very lucky woman.

“You’re insatiable, Captain Rogers. Are you sure you didn’t get a dose of that sex pollen?” Reaching down between your bodies to palm his erection, you were rewarded with a deep groan of approval.

“Baby, I can do this all day.” Rolling you onto your back, he slotted himself between your parted thighs once more, grinding against you as you sighed into his mouth. “And now you’re officially mine I’m gonna prove it to you every chance I get.”

[justagirlsearchingforamuse]

honeysuckle - smut - fezco x fem!reader

Summary: you and fez have had a long distance relationship for about a year and a half and you finally decide to meet up after all that time and things get steamy. what happens now?

word count: 4.5k

warnings: smut, smoking, swearing, plenty of kissing, the reader receiving oral, doggystyle, a bit of hair-pulling, kinda tame really.

you had been in a sort of long-distance relationship with fez for about a year and a half, you met online surprisingly but you lived another town over from east highland, it's kind of far especially on a train there and back. usually, fez wouldn't pursue a long-distance relationship, especially one that started off as strictly business and shipping off products to someone in the next town over but you were paying a pretty hefty fee for his "products".

you didn't use the products, just mostly sold them yourself to people who were paying good money for them but over time, you both began to grow closer to one another. a strong bond was built up over that year and you guys only began a romantic relationship a few months ago, but one thing fez appreciated about your relationship being long-distance is that the risk of you being hurt was low. you both shared pieces and pictures of each other's lives despite fez thinking there wasn't much to share at least anything he was proud of. but you were happy to hear about his life, his past, to hear about ashtray and his family. he's never met someone so intelligent and sweet, he could listen to you until the end of time, and listening to you ramble about life, bills, or whatever the fuck in a way reminded him of normality. but you have been talking about visiting him for the weekend for the longest time ever and you finally had enough money to do so, he was incredibly excited to see you but also so nervous. you've never been to east highland and meeting him in person made you nervous, what could happen? what if he didn't look like his pictures? what if he didn't like how you looked in your pictures? a lot of nervous thoughts flooded your brain but in between all that there was so much excitement and joy being able to finally see each other after all this time. not to mention, the topic of sex has crossed your mind more than you care to admit, fez wasn't ever really too focused on sex and it wasn't something he was looking forward to when you came to visit for the weekend.

you both have a bit of experience to a degree but nothing heavy. when he first saw you at the train station, picking you up, he thought you were so stunning and he didn't waste time in opening his arms to you, his hug felt like a thick warm blanket wrapped around you. he was so awkward but sweet but also chill, not to mention you also had met ashtray on the car ride to his place. ash had come off as standoffish and a bit cold but in a way you understood that he probably was still coming to terms with you both dating and all. he came off as quite mature for his age, not to mention not at all what you expected but there the entire evening fez was so sweet, he didn't push you into affection and honestly was so chill and fun to be around, he put you at ease and you loved it. now here you were, laying in fez's bed at around 11 at night, watching some documentary about nature, it was something fez enjoyed especially when it was hard to sleep. he had this secret fondness for hearing the birds chirping, singing, and humming. or watching seals glide along the waves of the ocean, it was something that oddly made him feel at peace and that calmed him. he had a cigarette between his fingers, lit of course and it's some funky brand you've never touched before and his arm is wrapped around your shoulders and it's calm. only the hums and voices from the flat screen could be heard and it was ... unique in a way that letting the world do its thing and just watching it happen was something so intimate with fez.

"i know we've talked about how you like documentaries but you ever know why? like what do you find so interesting about them, i mean a lot of people find them ... boring as hell." you inquire with a question, your words are light on your tongue and your eyes turn towards him, there's this slight smirk at the edge of your lips that he just really fucking liked. "fuck ... i mean ... i just really like 'em and you know seeing nature ... the ocean and shit ... can't really explain it though ..." he responds in a hum, a short chuckle leaving his lips after his response, you can't stop the short laugh the exits your lips at his response. turning to you with a goofy and shy smile stretched across his lips, he can't stop smiling like a fucking dope when you smile at him too. "the fuck's so funny to you, huh?" he raises his eyebrows, another light laugh is pried from your lips at his reaction. "i don't know, fez ... just really didn't expect someone so ... hard to be into fuckin' animal documentaries and shit ..." you tease him, a nervous laugh slips from his throat at your words as he licks his lips, trying to think of an answer that doesn't make him sound so damn goofy. "i mean ... fuck ... we all gotta multiple sides to us, don't we?" he answers, his words slurred and his eyes slighted squinted, playfully rolling your eyes at him, a short chuckle leaves your lips along with a smile.

"okay, okay ... so you're sensitive ...?" you chuckle, his expression shifts into a mixture of confusion and pure amusement. shortly after the statement left your lips you could hear Ash just let out an audible laugh, maybe a snicker at your statement. the echoes of his television could be heard through the walls, he was occupied playing one of the newest games that came out. "sensitive? ... i mean ... shit, ma ... you make it sound kinda bad ..." he answers, the cigarette meeting his lips once more as he takes a heavy puff of the nicotine stick, his eyelashes heavy and long and with a sluggish stare on him but when his eyes met you. a whole another story, his eyes dart around the room, watches your expressions and he seems so immersed in making sure you're comfortable and happy. "it's only bad if i don't like sensitive guys ... which you're in luck, i love them." you tease, shifting closer into his embrace and you rest your head upon his chest and his the beat to his heart goes faster and he can't stop the habit of licking his lips and he's never really felt something like this. "yeah ... you lucky you cute otherwise ... i wouldn't really take kindly to that ..." he takes another puff of the cigarette, letting the smoke escape his lips with a slow breath, his hand rests upon your back and he's just looking into your eyes like your the only thing he wants to stare at for the rest of his days.

"awe, just for me ...? i guess i should be honored, huh?" you tease with a playful expression on your face, a snort leaves his nostrils, such a tease. "yeah, maybe ... hey, um ... you wanna hit this?" he offers, lit cigarette in between his fingers as he waits for an answer.

"i mean ... eh, fuck it ... got only one damn life, might as well live it," you mumble to yourself, taking the cigarette from his hands and taking a short puff before you found yourself coughing at the taste in your lungs. "no pressure, tho. you don't gotta smoke if you ain't feel like it, (y/n) ..." he says as you hand it back to him, he takes a long drag of the cigarette before dragging his tongue along his bottom lip.

"yeah, i know but still you know it's really considerate of you, fez ..." you manage to say, his brand of cigarettes wasn't your type and honestly a bit too strong for your taste but you wouldn't deny the man looked damn good with a cigarette.

"also ... have you ever had a girlfriend?" you ask, the question somewhat lingered in your mind, you might've expected him to have many girlfriends or something, but you still felt you should ask.

"oh, yeah tell her ..." you could hear ash exclaim in the other room, teasing fez once again. rolling his eyes, a heavy sigh exits his lips as he takes another quick puff of his cigarette.

"i mean ... does it really matter, bruh? ... but i don't really date around much, ya know? i try to stay focused on the business and ashtray, you know?" he answers, a heavy breath exiting his lips as puts out his cigarette in the nearby ashtray, the aroma full of smoke and the scent of ash thickly coating the air.

"i guess i understand ... but what made you decide to date me then?" you ask, raising your eyebrows at the man beside you, scratching at his beard, he begins to stumble upon his words. "i ... um ... i guess it's kinda just ... things changed ya know, i got to know you, (y/n) and shit things changed. ... you changed things and never really met someone who made me feel like you do, (y/n) ..." he answers, his words slurred but his words carry weight to them and he notices how a familiar smile stretches across your face and your cheeks begin to flush at his words. butterflies begin to flood your stomach and his words just made your mind go blank and your nerves go berserk.

a chuckle leaves his lips before he licks them, there's a half smile upon his lips as he can't stop thinking about how cute you look, especially your flushed cheeks but then his eyes drift down to your lips. you hadn't even kissed yet and he'd be lying if he hadn't thought about it. about the smoothness of your lips, moving, gliding along his, and how you'd moan against his lips, he knows he probably shouldn't have these thoughts. you take a slow yet sharp breath in, turning your gaze to him, you lean in towards his lips and his breath stops and it's like everything is still, quiet. your lips lightly press against his, your eyes close and you gently kiss him, savoring the sensations that it gave you and how your heart went berserk.  the world went still, pale for a moment before it began to erupt with color and the world begins to spin again, and momentarily after you pull away. licking his lips, his cheeks begin to flush with heat, and a giggle slips from his lips and his eyes continue to gaze into yours with great fondness that made your heart swell with joy. a smile stretches across your lips once more, "sorry ... i guess i should've asked ..." it comes out in a whisper, it's light and soft on your tongue and it's like something is tugging at your eyes when you can't stop yourself from glancing at his lips once again.

"why you being all sorry and everything ...? i mean ... you know it was ... nice ..." he murmurs, a short chuckle leaving his lips at the idea of you apologizing for kissing him, he probably would've never made the move on his own. "i don't ... i ... ugh, fuck ... i really should've asked you ..." you say in an awkward laugh, covering your face with your hands as your cheeks flush with heat. gently moving your hands away from your face, he chuckles and grins at you with your hands in his. leaning in quickly, he steals a kiss from your lips, earning a short moan from your lips and he squeezes your hands in his as the kiss quickly deepens. instead of the stillness that remained when the kiss first happened, everything feels like it's fast-forwarding like time is moving quicker than you can anticipate. your heart is pounding, rushing in your chest and your body becomes vulnerable to his touch, his hands wrap around your waist and yours clutch the thick and soft fabric of his sweater. his lips are smooth and light against yours with movements as such, a short groan is pried from his lips as he continues to kiss you, falling prey to the sensations that plague him. your lips disconnect, heavy rushed breaths exit your parted lips and your eyes flutter open, your cheeks are flushed, pupils dilated, and he's never found you to be so damn stunning like this.

"come on, don't make me beg ..." you purr, your words low and suggestive as a smile begins to stretch across your lips, his lips crash back onto yours passionately, stealing a moan from your lips as arousal stirs inside of you. your hands are wrapped around his neck, your head rests upon the pillows and he's on top of you, his lips are smooth and there's this smokey aftertaste that clings to his lips and his tongue. there's a deep moan that echoes through your ears, his lips moving to your jaw, collarbone, and neck as he leaves soft kisses against your smooth skin. your hands wrap around his head, your heart racing in your chest, your body flushes and radiates with warmth, and your mind is slowly being consumed by the idea, no the fact that he was going to be only yours. pulling him in swiftly for another heated kiss, his tongue parts your lips, and your tongues dance sensually together, passionately and desperately, moaning against your lips, kissing your lips is an addiction. your shirt is already halfway off of your head, it's launched across the room, and as your lips part, his eyes explore your exposed skin, the dark lacey bra that hugs your frame perfectly. "you look so pretty, angel ..." he whispers, you giggle at his words before you notice his expression shift into that of realization, the quick realization he's probably still awake.

"what's wrong ...?" the question slips from your lips softly. "nothing, ma ... but we gonna have to be real quiet because of you know ..." he answers, his eyes glancing over at the wall dividing his and ash's room. it takes a moment before you remember that he is more than likely still awake, a heavy sigh exits your lips before fez's words catch your attention. "i hope that don't ... scare you." he whispers, inching closer to you with plans to continue what was happening mere moments ago, pulling you in his direction by your legs, there's a darkness in his azure eyes and one that intrigued you. taking one of your legs in his hands, his hands lightly trailed from your ankle to your thigh, there's a half-grin curling upon your lips before he begins to leave light kisses against your ankles. "mmh ... you know got really fuckin' sexy legs, baby ...?" he purrs, leaving another gentle kiss upon your smooth skin, but there's a need, an ache for something to fill you, to feel him stretch your walls, to be fucked. "come on, fez ... i w- need you ... i need you to ... fuck me? ... think you can do that, baby?" you purr, your words are dripping in arousal and lust, licking his lips before biting his bottom lip, he wants to take his time with you, he wants to make love to you, tenderly and sweetly but he wishes to hear you cry out his name like a prayer. to pull on your pretty hair. can he?

instead of answering, he flips you over swiftly onto your stomach, your face plants into the pillow and his body presses into you, clutching the sheets enveloped around the bed, his hips slowly drag into your ass. prying a groan from your lips, he presses himself against the ragged fabric of your jeans, lightly grinding his hips back and forth, whispered curses beneath his breath at the sensations that traveled through his body. the sensations are heavy and are enough to nearly make him gasp at the electric ecstasy that threatens to consume him entirely, biting his lip, he needs those jeans off, he needs to be in between those thighs. "wait, you're taking off my pants ... no more foreplay ... yay ..." you say in a sarcastic whisper, as your pants are already halfway off your legs, rolling his eyes at your words, a sharp gasp is pried from your lips. his hand lands a light smack against your ass, making you writhe on the bed as the stinging sensation ripples through your body, the sensation leaving an impact. "so impatient, baby ..." he murmurs, his eyes meeting the sight of your ass in a pair of somewhat tight underwear, licking his lips once more. there's a thin line between him ripping off your underwear and pounding into that tight cunt of yours and between him trying to build up to what's to come. roughly pulling your underwear down, he throws it onto the floor, he begins to leave wet kisses along your hips and back, hearing a low chuckle from your lips, he grins against your smooth and tender skin.

"fuck, you so fine, angel ... can't believe you're mine ..." he purrs, his words low and soft as you can hear another piece of clothing fall to the floor, your thighs are wet with the juices of your arousal and your entire body is tingling. "show me then, fez ... fuck me like i'm the hottest girl you've ever laid eyes on ..." you purr, your words dripping in arousal and need as you turn around to meet his hungry gaze, a devious grin stretches across his lips, his ocean blue eyes are clouded with great lust and hunger that's as vast as the ocean which is entirely endless. rolling his eyes, he swiftly crawls down in between your thighs, leaving short and impatient kisses against your thighs, his hot breath against your skin nearly set your lust ablaze. a sharp and heavy groan is pried from your lips at the new and sudden warmth that enveloped your clit, your hands clutch the sheets beneath you as ecstasy ripples through your body in heated waves. his tongue moves in slow and heavy strokes, entangling your body in its hot web of euphoria that leaves you gasping, begging, pleading for more and more.

"shit ... oh, fez ... that's really ... oh, fuck ..." the words are replaced with heavy breaths and short moans that are pried from your lips when he takes your clit in between his lips and lightly sucks on it for a moment. "shush ... gotta be quiet, baby ..." he says in a breath, his hands gripping your thighs as he quickly gets back to work, his tongue moving in swift and light movements now, that nearly steals all the air out of your body. "fuck ...! fez ... oh, fez ..." the words come out in heavy breaths, slapping your hand over your mouth, your eyes shut tightly as ecstasy floods your being, leaving your body aching and begging for more. moaning at the taste of your juices, two of his fingers slip inside your soaked cunt, his fingers move in and out roughly, pressing into your sweet spot. your heavy breaths and moans become muffled against your hand as you drown in the pleasure, your body flushed with heat, throbbing with need and he's loving every second of it. your moans are like a harmony that he never wants to end, a harmony that rings through his mind as well as his ears, moving away he suddenly flips you onto your stomach once more. a gasp is pried from your lips once more, you position yourself on your knees whilst your chest remains pressed against the bed. you can hear your heartbeat in your ears, ringing, and your body shudders with need, then the echo of the clinging of his belt buckle rings clearer than anything. you wait a few moments longer, you hear another article of clothing gets thrown to the floor before he's behind you, his hands travel across your back as he touches your smooth skin. he's so fucking lucky.

"mmh, baby ... tell me how much you want me ..." he whispers, grinding your teeth against your bottom lip, you swore your stomach was full of so many butterflies. "fez ... fuck, please ... i need you inside me so badly." you whisper, your cheeks flushed with warmth, spreading your legs a bit wider, all you need is him and him alone and you could die so very happy. a devilish smirk curls upon his lips, taking in a sharp breath, he runs the head of his thick throbbing cock in between the lips of your cunt, the sudden wetness and heat tore a groan from his lips at the way his body reacted to it. burying your teeth into your bottom lip, any day now before you can hear him curse to himself, moving away from you, you could've hollered out in frustration. "oh my fucki- ... what are you doing?" you question, your face twisting into that of irritation. moving over to the nightstand, he grabs a condom, abruptly shutting the drawer as he quickly bites open the wrapper. your face squints at the sound of the latex being wrapped around fez's cock, you sigh for a moment before you're briefly pushed further into the pillow, his hands are on your hips and he presses his cock in between your soaked folds. thank fucking god ...

driving his hips slowly into you, a shaky moan is pried from his lips upon the electricity that shoots through his body at your tight silky walls, biting his bottom lip, he presses his hand into your back. a heavy moan exits your lips as he stretches your walls and fills you in a way that no toy could, clutching the sheets beneath you, your eyes flutter close as he lightly drags his hips in and out of you, prying heavy ragged breaths from your lips. "fuck, angel ... you real tight ..." the murmurs in a short and rushed breath, slowly dragging his hips in and out of your tight soaked cunt, he swore he could drown in the foreign sensations. slow ragged breaths exited your lips as sharp electric sensations traveled through your body, your nerves sensitive to all of fez's movements. harshly snapping his hips into you a few times, he found himself nearly whimpering at the heavy sensations that shot through him. a sharp moan is pried from your lips at the angle he hits your sweet spot, striking that bundle of nerves drove you closer and closer to the edge which was closer than you anticipated. heat begins to bubble and boil in the pit of your stomach along with a knot that forms in the pit of your stomach. "oh, fuck ... fez, that's so fucking good ... fuck ...." the words spill from your lips in heavy ragged breaths as his hips move at a slightly quicker pace, his heavy breaths are more audible and you try not to make note of the obscene wet sounds that bounces off the walls. "fuck, get your face in the pillow, baby ..." he murmurs, his words slurred and quick as he grabs a fistful of your hair, giving your hair a nice tug as he snaps his hips into your soaked cunt. your face plants into the space-colored pillow, eyes shut tightly as his name falls from your lips, again and again, muffled into the soft pillow. all you could focus on was the swift snaps of his hips inside of you, his thick cock throbbing and moving inside of you, the echoes of skin smacking against skin began to flood your ears along with the ecstasy. licking his lips, he doesn't want to ever stop, he doesn't want to think about stopping for one moment, he wants to drown in the bliss, he wants this moment to never stop even if it is just for one moment.

"ugh, fuck ... mmh, goddamn you tight." he grunts in a heavy breath, fingers digging into your flesh, he throws his hips upwards at an angle that had you nearly screaming into your pillow at how he played with those sensitive nerves inside of you. your lips are dripping in your spit, heavy breaths into the pillow, and your body jerks as a reaction to each of his movements. "faster ... please ... oh, fuck ..." you manage to say, your words are muffled and almost incoherent, then his hips snap even faster into you, the obscene echoes of skin slapping against skin floods your ears and your heart is pounding, your breaths are caught, stuck in your throat. so intensely, truthfully, and madly in the moment, in the euphoria, in the ecstasy that floods through you all at once, reaching your boiling point and the knot that is in the pit of your stomach becomes so tight it threatens to come undone. his eyes flutter closed, heavy breaths fill his lungs, his heart thumping with each moment, and his body trembles against yours, threatening to combust at everything that is happening at once. then all the air in his lungs disappears, fades away, and a curse rolls off his tongue thickly as there's this euphoria that bursts inside of him, it's thick and heavy, sweeping him up in its mess, it's beautifully blissful mess. he spills over, hunched over on top of you as his heart is racing, sprinting in his chest and not in a way that he's gonna die of a heart attack but in a way that keeps him awake, alive, the aftermath of it hanging and clinging to him. snapping his hips a few more times and your cries into the pillow echo through the room, your entire body but mostly your thighs are trembling as the knot comes undone and you boil over into sweet ecstasy.

the echoes of heavy ragged breaths fill the room as fez gets off of you, his body dripping in sweat and he gets up off of the bed, his light footsteps ringing clear to you before the thick echo of the condom landing in the trashcan fills your ears. a heavy sigh exits his lips as he turns back towards the bed, his body clumsily hits the bed and he lands on his stomach. his eyelashes heavy over his eyes and all he can think of is sleep. turning to meet his face, his eyes are closed and his expression can only be described as one of being at peace, tranquil. smiling to yourself, you scoot closer to kiss his forehead, eyes still infatuated with his face, a long exhale leaves your nostrils before you move to lie on your back. "i love you ..." the words just leave your lips in a whisper, staring at the ceiling always helped you fall asleep faster, with thoughts of mostly fezco on your mind, your eyes quickly grew heavy and you fell asleep.

[kaeddehara]

headcannons for itto!

[ cw : nsfw, bad language, itto being a sweetie, SIZE DIFFERENCE, itto x afab!reader]

nsfw under cut

— he’s big into showering you with praise. he seems quite the opposite in terms of appearance but don’t be fooled! he’s actually extremely sweet and loving. sometimes, he’ll get too caught up in the moment and get wrapped up in his head. therefore, using filthy language and saying dirty things about you. he can’t really control it, it’s just instinct for him to go feral at times.

“taking me so damn well, just like a good slut does”

“hey quiet down, don’t want everyone hearing how good i’m fucking you right now. but, i’m sure you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

— everyone should know by now: he’s SO BIG. so tall and so strong yum. but really, he knows he’s big and tries his absolute best to be gentle. even when he’s holding himself back so much, he’s doing it all for you. wants to take his time and make you feel good you know?

— he cums so much like…almost inhuman amounts. whether it’s dripping out of you or he’s finished inside his fist, his load is a mouthful(literally).

— his horns his horns! incredibly sensitive and need to be teased. he’ll fall apart when you first lay your hands on them. makes him so flustered and frustrated at how easily you make him fall apart. but please keep doing it because he secretly loves it!

— his balls are so heavy too. goes along with him having a huge load and a huge dick. he just has so much to wants to give you:(. that includes his cum. he’s just absolutely meant for breeding with.

— despite him being pretty selfless during sex, if you do treat him, treat him good. meaning, if you suck him off, do everything he likes. sucking right on the thick tip, fondling his balls, kissing up the sides and his thighs. he loves it all. so make sure you’re putting yourself to good use when it comes to his pleasure.

— imagine him petting your head as you struggle to suck him off nhksndnjahsowp

— he kinda loves when you worship him too. especially when you worship his cock. telling him just how big it is. telling him how he stretches you out so far you get sore. along with the obvious size difference causing some issues between you two. he loves that you point it out for him and praise him on just how good he makes you feel.

— what if whenever you ride him, his big beefy pecs bounce too…

— loves shower sex too. he teases you so so much. likes it mainly because it’s so intimate but also because water is an easy lubricant. just something about making out in a darkened, hot steamy shower sounds really good to him.

— sit on his face. just do it. you won’t regret it at all. he’s painfully good at eating pussy. it’s like he’s practiced for years. and don’t hold your weight back! sit yourself fully down on his face he’ll go crazy. he wants to be suffocated by your ass and thighs. it’s basically one of his biggest fantasies. just the thought of sitting on his face makes itto hard.

— do you think his dick also has those red tattoos on his body?…..yes, yes it does. i would know.

sfw!

— i also feel like he’d be so good a giving hugs. he’s basically built for it. tall(huge), strong arms, big pecs. he’s got it all. so don’t be surprised if he wants to hug on you. that and he loves seeing your face all squished against his chest. mostly just because of how flustered you get but also because he knows you love being in between them.

— likes to go on dates that consist of lots of talking and joking and eating. he loves to eat with you. it’s just so much more enjoyable to have someone else there for him while he does something as simple as eating a meal. other than that, he’ll take you on all sorts of dates! you wanted to go to a cool place you saw while looking for materials? he’ll take you! hes just here to make you happy.

— but nsfw stuff aside for a moment, he’s such a soft person for you. i imagine him to be extra warm and a nice person to rest your head on. especially his chest. booba in my face please. likes the warmth you provide as well! he’s just like a heater and will warm you right up!

-imagine him squishing your cheeks with his fingers so your lips are all puckered up.

-loves to train with you too! he’ll be gentle(to an extent) on you. knowing his strength physically is far too much for you to handle. though, in terms of wit, you might have him beat at times. giving him pointers on strategy and specific attacking while he works on your stamina and quickness.

[becca-e-barnes]

'Especially when the only thought in my head was something really filthy with Lee' would you be so kind of as to share said filthy thought? (also ily and I hope your head is feeling better!!) -🍑 anon

I totally forgot to elaborate on this!! And my head is feeling so much better now, thank you honey! Gonna try to keep it really far away from the kitchen ceiling from now on 💗

I’d been thinking about innocent reader maybe going out of town on vacation or something?  Maybe by this stage, Lee has got to her a bit.  She’s more corrupted than she was but she’s still got that sweet innocent look that has Lee’s cock twitching.

When you come back to town, Lee can hardly keep his hands to himself.  He’s missed everything about you so badly. He’s missed the taste and feel of your body, he’s missed the grip of your warm wet cunt fluttering around him and God he’s missed your sweet little moans.  His fist just can’t compare.  Getting himself off twice a day isn’t even enough to satisfy him when he’s getting off to thoughts of you.

As soon as he has you alone, he’s kissing you hungrily, too wound up to be gentle.  “Ya miss me, sugar?”  He pants against your neck as he covers it in kisses, biting at the skin and letting his soft tummy bump against you, pressing you back against the bed.

“Missed you so much, Daddy.”  You whisper, letting yourself fall onto the mattress with a soft moan but he just puts it down to the fact it’s been so long.

“Missed you too, sweetheart.  Thought about ya a whole lot, ya know that?”  He smirks, a hand landing on each of your knees, pulling them apart.  His thick fingers trail against you the way they always do, making sure you keep his strict ‘no panties’ rule.  He hums in satisfaction at your obedience, marvelling in the fact you’re so wet already but working his finger into your slick little hole is far more difficult than it’s ever been.

The look of confusion on his face only lasts a few seconds before his eyes widen, his fingers drifting lower and meeting the cool base of something metal.

“What the fuck…?”  He questions softly, gripping your body roughly and flipping you onto your front with your ass in the air, almost as if you weigh nothing.

Your little skirt is flipped up, exposing the circular base of the plug that’s nestled beautifully between your asscheeks.

“Daddy’s girl.”  He reads, his head practically spinning.  He’s never been this hard before in his damn life.  He almost thinks he’s going to blow a load in his pants and not even make it inside you.

“You like it, daddy?”  You smirk, looking over your shoulder while wiggling your ass teasingly.  You feel a firm spank to your left ass cheek and you hear Lee groan, mesmerised by the jiggle.  

“Holy fuck, sweetheart.  You’re gonna be the death of me, ya know that?”  His eyes haven’t left the base of the plug and they still don’t shift as he undoes his belt.  “Spoilt for fuckin’ choice, darlin’.  Do I take this little thing out and really fill your asshole?  Or do I force myself into your pussy while that thing stretches your ass out.  Bet you’ll be tighter than I ever fuckin’ felt before.”  

His fingers tap gently on the base of the plug, making you clench around it and God, you’re so full already you can’t even imagine how Lee could fit inside you too.  You keep yourself propped up on one elbow, still looking back at him as you bring a hand between your legs, letting two fingers circle your clit.  “Whatever you want, daddy.  ‘M all yours, you know that.”  

He swears he’s going to lose it just from watching you.  His fingertips press into your sopping pussy, testing how much give he’s working with while he strokes his cock a little too frantically.

“Sweet little thing like you, spread out ’n waitin’ to get your asshole fucked.  How could I say no to that?”

[elysianslove]

Hi I have no clue if this is the request box but may I request Suns and Sakusa sort of taking it too far in degradation with their s/o? And like they comfort them after, thank you :) :)

you’re in the right place my love! <3 and sure i’d love to!!

S/O USING THEIR SAFE WORD

includes: suna rintarō & sakusa kiyoomi

content warning: heavy degradation, use of safe words, description of a panic attack in suna’s, choking and slapping in sakusa’s, but lots of aftercare!!!

find iwaizumi and bokuto’s version here.

SUNA RINTARŌ

your boyfriend was, for lack of better words, made for degradation. that’s not to say he doesn’t excel at praise too, because if asked, he‘ll deliver perfectly. but once he’s given the okay on, well, being mean, he truly falls into the role, knowing exactly what to say to make your mind blank, exactly how to say to make your body go lax and numb.

and of course, you love it. there’s no other reason why you’d put up with it. and suna knows you do; he sees the way your body reacts to his harsh words and jabs, feels the way you clench down on him tightly whenever he degrades you, hears the moans and whimpers and heaves and begs. if it’s not for that, then what else would he do it for?

you‘d thought it was what you’d needed after such a long day— to be put out of this draining, tiring headspace, to give up control, to let your boyfriend use you however he’d like, have his way with you, be harsh and mean and put you in your place. apparently, you’d needed the exact opposite, because all it feels is fucking awful. as he fucks rough into you from above you with your body spread beneath him, on your stomach, and your face buried in the mattress, he spits filth at you, calling you name after name after name.

“good for nothing whore,” he hisses, pressing a hand on your back right where it meets your neck, keeping you down firmly, unable to move. usually, this arouses you. usually, his treatment and words make you dizzy with lust.

so why do you feel like absolute shit?

his fingers dig into your skin as he smacks at your ass with his free hand. “this is what you’re meant for,” he continues, and a sob wretches from the back of your throat, muffled by the blanket. he mistakes it as a sob of pleasure, his hand landing another hit on your ass. “to be used and fucked stupid. think i give a shit ‘bout anything else? think you matter for anything else?”

you cry out again, hands fisting the sheets. this doesn’t feel good, not in the slightest. your body’s bouncing with every thrust of his, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing loud in your ear. his words— his words hurt. they hurt so bad. they’re mean and awful and hearing it in his voice, with that tone, makes it so much worse.

he’s continuing however, oblivious to your state, “you’re a fucking dirty— dirty— slut.” something wet lands on the middle of your back, and with the heavy blanket around your brain, it takes you a second to register he spat on you.

it hits you suddenly, right after the realization— the tightening of your chest, the numbness of your palms, the lightheadedness overtaking you. you’re panicking, awfully, and it’s halfway through him mentioning how he knows you wouldn’t mind being used by his teammates that your hands flail around, reaching behind you and crying out in a broken voice, “red! red, red!” you can’t stop crying, can’t stop sobbing and heaving and panicking, even when the weight of suna above you disappears, even when the pressure between your legs vanishes, and you don’t quiet down to sniffles and shivers and hiccuping cries until there’s a shaky hand resting warm against your hip.

“baby?” suna calls out to you, voice quiet and careful. the warmth of his hand disappears suddenly, as if he’d caught himself redhanded. you’re still laying on your stomach, trembling in your place, but with the slight tilt of your head and the flutter of your eyes, you spot him, sitting a small distance away from you. he visibly sags in relief when his meet yours, and he reaches out for you again, slowly, waiting to be given the okay. “hi lovely— hi,” he sighs.

you sniffle again, unable to speak, but he doesn’t chastise you for it. when you don’t react negatively to his approaching hands, or to when his hands settle on your skin, he turns you over, slowly.

“hi beautiful,” he repeats, one hand reaching over to smooth your hair back. “can i clean ya up?”

it takes you another minute to process, a few seconds to nod, but he doesn’t mention it. he’s patient, waiting, and when you give him an answer, he smiles softly, almost proudly, before crawling back, pressing the cloth between your legs and wiping you down. it’s quiet for a few moments, before he speaks up again. “i don’t—“ his voice breaks, staggers and wavers, but he pauses, breathes deeply, and continues. “i don’t think any of those things about you.”

your breath hiccups as you sniffle again, turning your head to the side. suna sighs, but not impatiently. sadly.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he says. “i’m sorry that i didn’t— realize—“

“s’not your fault,” you whisper.

he’s silent for a few more moments, focusing on cleaning you up, before he pauses again, clenching the cloth tightly in his fist. “it is. but i— you— you mean a lot to me,” he admits, quietly. “i’m sorry i was mean.”

and suna’s never really been good with words, it’s evident with the way he struggles to comfort you by speaking.

so instead, after stuttering through another apology, after mumbling about how much he loves you as he presses a needy, broken, breathless kiss to your forehead, he rushes to the bathroom, filling the bathtub up with water. and when you’re settled in, eyes puffy from crying and muscles aching, he sits behind you, outside of the bathtub, scrubbing and washing and massaging at your hair.

“feel good?” he asks, as he lathers up your hair with shampoo. when you hum appreciatively, sinking deeper into the bathtub, he chuckles lightly, leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple. “good. only the best for my baby,” he mumbles against you, before reaching for the shower head again.

and after, he dresses you in his clothes because it’s easier than speaking, and he makes you some calming tea because he doesn’t know how to put it into words, doesn’t know how to express that he’s truly sorry and that he won’t be able to sleep that night with the guilt so heavy in his chest.

but he still finds it in him to say i love you when you’re half asleep in his arms, and promises to never hurt you the way he did earlier.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

when you’d fallen into your lover‘s arms after a long, stressful day, you’d asked, “help me forget, please,” and now that he’s delivering exactly what you’d wanted from him, you realize your mistake. it’s easy to miscalculate, of course, because as much as you loved and reveled in the way he praises you throughout it all, you’d believed there was no other way to properly distract yourself, properly make you forget everything that had made today as bad as possible, than to be fucked dumb.

again, a miscalculation. but that’s what safe words were for, as well as all the signals you and kiyoomi had thought up for all possible situations.

if only you could just say it. or do it. whichever.

you’re stuck in this god awful feeling, where your heart’s in your throat and you can’t seem to move. kiyoomi’s words are ringing loud and clear in your ear, his fingers digging into the sides of your throat, holding you down as he thrusts into you. your legs are spread open for him, helplessly laying on the bed, twitching every once in a while.

this did feel pleasurable, at first. it really did. the sting of his words made you shiver, his teasing fingers pulled you apart at the seams. you’d welcomed the insults and the harsh words, as well as the sting of his palm slapping against your thighs as punishment. he really had been doing all and more than what you asked, helping you forget, even if just for a while. it’s what you figured you needed.

but when his hand had traveled higher, wrapped around your throat like a vice, and when he’d sneered down at you, eyes dark and words like venom, “this really is all you’re good for, huh?” he’d scoffed down at you, thrusting sharp, knocking the breath out of your lungs. it’s not that he hadn’t said similar words before, even in that degrading, terrible, belittling tone, it just has never felt so— real. it had felt like he’d meant it, that he really thought you were useless, that all you could offer him was your body and apparently you couldn’t do that well enough because his next words were “oughta fuck someone else—”

and you don’t hear the rest, a sob dying in your throat as tears well up in your eyes. you’ve heard this shit before, had been able to retort with teasing grin and “no one could fuck you this good,” but you can’t, because you’re too lost in the possibility of his words being true. that he could easily just discard you, having been fed up, finding no more use for you.

when the hand around your throat lifts up to slap at your face, it’s when you finally cry, unable to hold back your tears. your hand finds its way around his wrist, squeezing tightly and digging your nails in. you can’t speak, can’t signal, but you pray that your trembling frame and the sight of you weakly, just barely shaking your head would warn him enough.

you’ve never felt more relieved when his face softens, his eyes widening worriedly.

“oh no,” he mutters. “no, i’m so— shit.” shaky hands land on the mattress on either side of you as he shuffles back, pulling out and sitting up. “sweetheart,” he starts, reaching out for you with the same, trembling hands. he cups your face gently, slowly, being careful of your reaction to him. you only flinch slightly, but with a deep breath, and patience from him, his hands settle warm on your cheeks. his thumbs brush away at your tears, his hands so gentle that they feel featherlight against your skin. “can you breathe okay?” he asks.

your chest feels slightly tight, your breathing a little ragged, but now that the pressure of his hand isn’t so terrifying, that his figure above you oozes comfort rather than intimidation and his eyes read warmth rather than harsh cold, you breathe a little easier. still, however, you struggle with words. “i– i’m—“

“it’s okay,” he’s quick to shush you, thumbs stroking against your cheeks again. “it’s okay, you don’t have to speak.” one hand leaves your face to trail upwards to your hair, and he brushes through it soothingly, his smile a little wobbly when his eyes meet yours. “let’s take a shower, hm? then i’ll make you some tea. maybe a snack. and we can— we can just sleep, yeah?”

your nod allows him to breathe easier, relief coursing through him. you’re clearly not in any good state, but it’s better than when you’d been staring up at him with so much fear and hurt in your eyes. he relaxes a little when you lean into the hand still on your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his palm.

gently, he leans down, presses a watery kiss to the tip of your nose. “i love you,” he promises, kissing your cheek next. there‘s a lot more that he wants to say, wants to reassure you with, but for now, i love you will be enough.

BYE I HATE THIS SO MUCH sorry for absolutely butchering this <//3

[barry-j-blupjeans]

The good thing about having his own house, away from the other crew members, is that Magnus could sing as loud as he wanted, burn as much food as he possibly could, or even walk around naked, and no one would scold or laugh at him. The bad part about living in his own house is that it was really damn lonely. Suffocatingly lonely, to the point that Magnus sometimes forgot he was actually a person and not just a ghost living in this house. The dogs helped a lot, but the feeling persisted.

This is why he crossed the street at seven this morning and knocked on the door to Barry and Lup's house, inviting himself inside when neither of them answered. They had an incomplete puzzle on their coffee table that Magnus started to work out. When Lup came downstairs around an hour later, she stopped to stare at Magnus, blinking a few times as if he was a trick of the light, and then kept on her way to the kitchen. A few minutes later, she brought him a cup of coffee and then, presumably, went back to the kitchen to start on breakfast.

Barry stumbled down the stairs a while later, hair still wet from a shower. Magnus snorted when he stopped in the exact spot that Lup had, taking off his glasses to clean them, and then squinting at him as if Magnus had just been a smudge on the lens.

"Uhm," Barry said. "What'cha doing here, bud?"

"Bored," Magnus said, shrugging. "This puzzle is fucked."

"I think you're just bad at puzzles, Mags," Barry said. He came over to the couch, sitting himself down next to Magnus and bending over to look at what was done so far. Maybe Magnus being bad at puzzles was a fair assessment, because he had only got some of the edge pieces put together, and the wizard hat of whoever was in the middle.

They sat there, mulling over the puzzle for a while. Barry started connecting pieces that Magnus didn't even know were in front of him. By the time Lup came out with food and more coffee, Magnus had resigned himself to watching Barry do the puzzle, instead.

"Eggs," Lup said enticingly, shoving a plate into Magnus's arms. She set two mugs down on the coffee table and Barry picked one up without looking away from the puzzle. He took a sip and then grimaced and put it back down, picking up the other one.

"Sorry," Barry said. "Thought that one was mine."

"It's in my mug, babe."

The mug was a deep red with the words "don't talk to me until I've killed you with this mug". Very Lup-esque.

"I'm doing a puzzle," Barry said. "I didn't look!"

"We're doing a puzzle," Magnus said.

"No, I think Barry's doing it," Lup said. "Take a break to eat, babe."

Barry glanced up- Magnus was already eating part of his plate. Ham and eggs and toast, all very good. Lup slid his plate towards him and Barry sighed, sitting back and reaching for the forks she had brought out too. There was silence for a while as they ate. It was a much nicer silence than sitting in his house, alone, eating mediocre eggs and ham. Lup was the first to finish, setting the plate aside on the coffee table and leaning down to look at the puzzle. Magnus was finished too, but he didn't know where to put his plate so he just sort of held onto it.

"Where did we get a puzzle that was literally just a picture of Taako?" Lup asked after a few more minutes of Magnus watching them put it together. Sure enough, under the wizard hat Magnus had put together by himself was Taako.

"I think he gave it to me for my birthday," Barry said, snapping another piece in place.

"Sounds about right," Lup said.

Another silence. Barry and Lup were putting together the puzzle much faster now. Magnus took a sip of his coffee. As they put Taako's apron into place, Magnus cleared his throat and said,

"How's it feel being like, a lich?"

Barry's hand stilled over one of the pieces. Lup hummed.

"Lich-y," she said. Magnus huffed out a little laugh. "I don't know how to describe it, Mags. Wanna share why you wanna know? 'Cause I'm ninety percent sure my ass will get fired literally and metaphorically if I help you become a lich."

"I don't wanna be a lich," Magnus said. "I've had enough of living forever, thanks. I just kinda like... I don't know. Like when you got your body back after so long, did it feel weird? Like too fleshy?"

"Yeah," Lup said. Barry nodded in agreement.

"Lonely?" Magnus asked.

"I... wouldn't use the word lonely," Barry said. "Not exactly, anyhow. But it is sorta weird going from like... not being contained within anything directly into a breathing body again. Kinda like-" he snapped his fingers, screwing his face up for a second as he thought. "Like, uh, Wonderland? When you were dead, and then you were only kinda dead inside the mannequin? It's like... so much, all at once. But also not enough, y'know?"

"No, I get it," Magnus said. "It was very- very disorienting. I didn't like it very much. I just? I don't know. Usually, when I die, I just die. But then I was dead but not dead? More than when we were on the Starblaster. But I wasn't alive, I just wasn't dead. That doesn't make sense, does it?"

"I got'cha. Sounds rough, Mags," Lup said. Magnus nodded, not sure what else to say to make himself make sense. "D'you wanna talk about it or d'you just wanna watch us do this puzzle. Or both, I guess."

"Kinda wanna talk about it," Magnus said. "Never really had to chance to, I think."

"Go for it," Barry said, taking a sip of his coffee. He snapped another piece of the puzzle in. "We're here to listen, bud."

[radiant-reid]

The only way home

Summary: Mad at her boyfriend, Y/n has a little too much to drink and Spencer takes her home.

can you do one where like spencer and reader have a little argument before going out w the team and reader gets rly drunk and starts going on ab how she doesn’t want spencer to hate her and he just takes her home and reassures her that they’re okay and he loves and he takes care of her

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then fluff)

Content Warning: heavy alcohol consumption |

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

"You know that was a stupid thing to do, right?" Spencer asked as soon as they got back to their hotel room. It was an opinion that he had been dying to loudly verbalize once they'd apprehended the unsub.

Y/n's mouth dropped open, eyes widening, as she tried to figure out whether or not he was serious. The stern look in his eyes told her he was. "How was it stupid if I saved 2 people from dying?" She shot back, collecting her things from the bathroom and shoving them in her go-bag with more force than she previously had been.

"How was it stupid?" Spencer repeated, preparing to answer the question himself. He was doing the same thing as her, packing his things angrily. "You ran in there, alone, with no regard for your own safety. You easily could have gotten yourself shot!"

"You were the one who profiled him as a narcissist. I appealed to his egotistical delusion." Y/n hurriedly justified herself, not willing to back down from her position.

They were both just as mad, Spencer almost pacing in the room while Y/n roughly packed her go-bag. The tension in the room had amplified enormously, the anger pulsing through them as strong as blood pumping from their hearts.

He shook his head at her. "Profiles can be wrong." He commented.

She wanted to tell him that it was something he profiled, so how could it be wrong. But she was furious at his overbearing protectiveness, so she resisted the urge. "Why can't you ever trust my judgment!?"

"I do until you go and do something that ridiculously unsafe!" Spencer yelled back, irritated by her lack of self-preservation. He handed her her jacket, which she roughly snatched out of his hands.

The yelling was a sign their fight was worse than usual. Usually, there were only a few words said, followed by hours of silence. If there was shouting, it meant their emotions were far too wound up for any rationality.

"It's nothing you wouldn't have done!" It was something he had done. Multiple times. She was trying to remind him she'd been in the exact same situation he was in, but it wasn't working.

There had been times when Spencer put himself in the firing line. Jumping headfirst into danger without a second thought. Those times Y/n struggled to reason rationally, but it came out as sadness. Distraught at first, every time, but as soon as Spencer was safe in her arms again, all she did was cry.

Y/n just didn't understand why Spencer wasn't reacting the same way she would.

He could not hear a thing except for her defending her decision to do something risky. "I've gotten myself a lot worse than shot." It came off softer than he would have liked. He only said it to remind her, solely so that she knew what bad things could happen if she wasn't careful.

Y/n assumed he only said it because he knew that she couldn't make a rebuttal. It made her desperately bit her tongue, trying not to make a rash remark.

So she took a moment to think about it.

She hadn't been there for all of it, but she learned about the heartbreaking, gut-wrenching things that had happened to her sweet boy. All the times he'd wake up from nightmares, trembling in her arms as he sobbed out stories about the darkest parts of him. And somehow, in the mornings, he could always smile. Like as natural a light source as the sun, his grin was.

Far from comforting him but a little more levelheaded, she answered. The flat, emotionless tone worried Spencer about how far he'd pushed her to see the mistake. "Stop being so fucking possessive."

Y/n walked past him, opening the door with the awareness they had to be on the jet back to Quantico. Spencer reached out to grab her arm, trying not to drag the fight out for the extra hour they had to be on the jet.

She refused his soft touch, jerking her arm away. "You aren't my boss, Spencer. You're my boyfriend." Those words were intentional, maybe the first calculated thing once they'd walked into the room. Spencer was appreciative of the reminder, no matter how much venom dripped off her voice. Her following words were crueler, hitting him right where it hurt. "Start acting like it, or we're... we're done."

As soon as she said it, Y/n wanted to take the words back. She couldn't stand to look at Spencer, opting to walk to the elevator, leaving Spencer reeling in her departure. Wiping the tears in her eyes as she tried to put on a brave face in the lobby.

It hurt so deep in him, his entire body clenching as he gasped for a breath. When he finally caught it, Y/n was long gone, and his mind was spinning. Replaying every second of the fight as Y/n's words jolted his vision of their future.

On the jet, they sat as far apart as possible, both with the same heartbroken looks on their faces. Tear-stained cheeks, fake smiles, arms wrapped around themselves like they needed a hug.

Callahan leaned over the table to mutter to JJ and Morgan, knowing she couldn't enquire about the couple aloud. Her few months at the BAU left her without enough knowledge of the couple to understand what was happening.

"What happened? They were fine a day ago."

They had been. The newest member of the team had quickly learned how well the couple worked together. Always in sync and understanding each other's thinking. It was something Callahan had been surprised about at first, but their efforts massively helped the team.

JJ sighed, whispering her conclusion to Callahan. "Spence was so worried L/n walked in there that now he's mad. They'll make up in a day, max."

"They've done this before?" Callahan continued out of curiosity, trying to learn more about them.

Morgan nodded. "Once, but Pretty Boy was the one being dangerous that time."

Everyone had gotten so used to the hushed whispers between Y/n and Spencer that the trip back was more than uncomfortable. The eerie, out-of-place silence was matched by the tension in the air.

Finally, they were back at Quantico, with Y/n and Spencer purposefully taking different elevator rides, despite the fact the whole team could fit in one.

Garcia immediately noticed the shift in the couple's dynamic, and one glance at Morgan informed her of what happened. "We're going out for drinks!" She declared, trying to put a smile on both of their faces.

That was the last thing Y/n wanted. But the more she thought, the more she realized it was better than going home to their apartment, especially if she could get drunk and forget their fight.

"Yeah, let's go." Y/n agreed, not even waiting to see what Spencer would say as she got back in the elevator with Garcia.

Garcia wrapped an arm around Y/n's shoulder, pulling her into her side while Y/n resisted the urge to cry. "Hey, all couples fight, sweetness. It'll be okay." She assured her.

Y/n took a deep breath. "I said something I really didn't mean." She confessed, not able to meet Garcia's eyes.

"Come on, we'll get something to drink, and by tomorrow it'll all be forgotten," Garcia assured her. "No more sadness."

That was how they ended up in the teams' usual bar of choice. Y/n and Penelope had already had a drink before Spencer, JJ, and Morgan turned up. Hotch and Callahan had all opted to go home to their children. Rossi decided he'd rather have wine at his mansion than drink with the younger BAU team members.

The more the night drew on, the more Y/n and Spencer tried to ignore each other. Everyone else could see the glances they snuck at each other, turning away as soon as the other noticed. It was an odd thing to be in such proximity while being so furious at each other. But the rest of them decided to overlook the tension, and as the drinks kept flowing, it got easier.

They'd only been there for an hour before Y/n had had more than enough, but, still, she continued. JJ left after a couple of hours, ready to go back to her boys.

"Penelope, can you get me another one of these?" Y/n asked, slurring her words as she held out her empty glass to Penelope, who was much soberer. "Ahh, I love you, P." Y/n squealed once she'd taken the glass.

Spencer frowned as Penelope walked to the bar, excusing himself from the rest of the team to go to the bathroom. He followed Penelope instead. "Don't get her anymore to drink." Spencer insisted, taking the glass from Penelope's hand. "Her BAC level is over 0.22."

Penelope turned to him with a deep frown, shaking her head as she turned to the bartender. "Can you make a mocktail identical to the cocktails you've been getting us?" She asked, getting a nod before turning back to Spencer. "Sit, Boy Wonder, and tell me what's happened." She instructed.

It was a conversation Spencer wasn't exactly excited to have. Especially not in the middle of a dimly lit bar with stick seats and a jar of old peanuts.

Y/n somehow looked more heartbroken once Spencer left, pouting down at her lap.

"Pick your head up, Princess," Morgan spoke, noticing the tears streaming down her face. She looked up at him with wide, puppy dog eyes looking more like a puppy that had been kicked out of the house, crying outside the door. "What happened?"

"I... I really screwed up." Y/n was already a mess, struggling to get her words out through the hiccups. She felt exactly like a cliche, heartbroken single, drinking in a bar, thankfully, she had the team... and Spencer, beautiful Spencer Reid who had last locked eyes with her with a face that made her stomach twist. Even hours later.

Morgan rested her head against his shoulder, propping her up so she would fall out of the booth. "Tell me about it."

"He was... he was mad I went...in there." Y/n managed to get out between her sobs. "And we fought. We fought so bad. I-I told him we should, we should break up. I-If he couldn't... separate himself from, from me." She confided in him. Between the crying, almost hyperventilating, and slurring words, she was almost too hysterical to speak. "I love... love him, so, so, so m-much." The dark thoughts were spiraling, thinking about ending up without Spencer. Y/n didn't believe she could see Spencer at work, knowing she couldn't kiss him, that they weren't in love. It felt like a nightmare.

"Hey, just breath with me now," Morgan instructed, trying to help her calm down.

Y/n did, shaky breaths but still getting oxygen in. "Spencer is... I want to m-marry him, but what if, what if I don't, Morgan?" She wondered, placing her hands over her eyes as if it would stop the vision in her brain.

"Shh, shh, shh, it's going to be okay," Morgan assured her, hugging her into his side like he needed to protect her. "Pretty Boy loves you, don't forget that. Now, I think it's about time you get home, drink some water and wait until tomorrow morning to sort this all out."

She held the table as she tried to stand up, barely able to stand. Morgan opted for picking her up rather than trying to help her walk. He sat her in the car, getting repaid by Y/n's sweet words of drunk affection.

Her head was spinning, her head resting on the cold glass window, with her eyes closed when she heard Morgan open the driver's side door. "Thank you, Morgan, really."

"It's not Morgan." Y/n knew that voice. She'd know it from any lineup of people. The sweet voice she had experienced every emotion with.

Turning her head, she looked at him as the dread-filled her face. The racing thoughts came out verbally. "Please, d-don't break up with me now." She cried, the sinking feeling in her stomach filling her with a pitch-black emptiness. "I'll forget it, and it'll kill me... tonight, but y-you'll have to do it again tomorrow." It was a wrenching physical pain, like nothing she'd ever felt.

Spencer looked at her like she'd just broken her heart all over again, realizing how fragile she was. He reached out a hand, picking up her one in her lap and threading this fingers through it. "We can talk about it in the morning, but we're not breaking up." He assured her.

Y/n picked up their interlock hands, holding them to her cheek for some more comfort.

He smiled just from envisioning her, not wanting to cause a car crash by taking his eyes off the road. "I love you, Y/n, more than anything."

"I'm sorry, S-Spence. So sorry." She pleaded, practically enamored with his side profile. "I love you too, so much. Do you know you're my best friend in the whole world? You're so smart and funny, and I'm always so impressed by you, everyone is. Oh, and you're so pretty. I never ever want to fight."

Spencer chuckled at her, trying not to fully laugh at her drunken state. "My sweet girl." He cooed, pulling into their apartment complex parking building.

"Y-you're going to have to carry me upstairs," Y/n informed him, swaying about even though she was holding the door. "I'm s-sorry, I got so drunk."

Cupping her cheeks, Spencer placed a kiss on her forehead, pulling back to hold a finger to her lips. "It's late, hon. You don't need to be sorry to me, but the neighbors might mind your loud voices." She hadn't even realized how loud she was speaking. "Also, we have an elevator."

It made things easier, but Spencer still had to hold her waist the entire way up and on the walk to their bedroom. "Lay down." He instructed, pointing to the bed.

Y/n did, flopping back onto the soft cloud she had missed while they were away. She squirmed out of her clothes, Spencer helping her out before throwing her the old t-shirt of his Y/n insisted on sleeping in. She curled up against the pillow, and by the time Spencer made his second trip to the car for their go-bags, she was dead asleep.

With their bags in the room, Spencer went to fetch some water and Advil that he knew she'd be needing before changing and getting in bed next to her.

To his surprise, Y/n woke up, looking up at him fondly. She placed her hands on his cheeks, squeezing them lightly. "So pretty." She mentioned, blushing deeply once she said it. "Can I kiss you?" With the desperate hope that he wasn't still mad.

"Of course, sweetheart." Spencer placed a soft kiss on her lips, fingers combing through her hair in the way she liked. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest as she quickly fell asleep again.

Even though he should have, Spencer imagined what it would be like to lose her, and it made him shudder. Y/n's voice was the only thing that stopped it. "Not going anywhere." She mumbled like she could read his mind, her tiredness only making her words more scrambled.

Spencer nodded at her, kissing her forehead again for good measure. "Good."

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[iheartlexihoward]

vulnerable (pt 2) // fez

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: with a shell-shocked fez in your room, you recount another instance in which you were his safe place.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: fez x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* cws: canon-typical, blood, mentions of violence/injury, guns, drugs, alcohol, dangerous levels of pining

this is part 2 of this series! find part one here / masterlist

ahhh thank you for all the love on part one! i really, truly, did not expect to get any kind of response on it so it's kinda mad to me it's at over 700 notes. i really hope that everyone is enjoying how the series is going so far. please let me know your thoughts! <33

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Conscious of stirring your parents, you quietly made your way downstairs and texted Fez to come round the back door. The keys were already in the lock (you thanked your dad, the last person up, for saving you the process of loudly rifling through the key holder) and you turned them as carefully as possible. You opened the door, and your heart hurt. Fez immediately stepped past the threshold of the house, and you could already see the look on his face. It wasn’t something you’d ever really seen on him before.

Of course you’d seen him upset, emotional turmoil was something that was in his job description, but nothing like this. He was deeply, genuinely troubled. You reached out and softly touched his hoodie-clad arm, thumb automatically swiping fondly.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was just above a whisper and your face contorted, worried sick. Fez just drew his eyebrows inward and pursed his lips, looking down. It was rare he actually answered your questions about these things. You didn’t know if it was out of inability to express himself, not wanting to taint your image of him by making you aware of the fucked-up shit he got into, not wanting to feel like he was burdening you with his issues, or a combination of all three and probably more. It didn’t matter to you that he didn’t tell you much — you gave your comfort all the same, and he hungrily accepted it. You knew he trusted you. It was enough.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay?” You pulled away from him not letting go until the last minute, allowing your hand to trail down his arm and give a comforting squeeze to his wrist. Your back was to him as you grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and filled it, but if you’d have turned round you’d have seen that he was absent-mindedly touching the last place you held.

“Here you go.” You offered a small smile along with the glass, and gestured your head slightly in the direction of the stairs. Fez nodded once, slipping his sneakers off and carrying them in his free hand as he followed you. You both picked your way carefully through the house, avoiding creaky floorboards and occasionally casting a silent glance at each other. As you lightly swung your bedroom door open, it hit you that he’d never been inside your house before. In your room. He’d dropped you off thousands of times, and you’d been to his a lot, but this felt very… intimate.

“You can put your shoes and stuff anywhere.” Fez mumbled out a thanks and softly placed his Nikes on the ground, just next to where all your shoes were lined up. You liked seeing his things mixed in with yours. You walked towards him and gently picked the glass of water from his fingers, the warmth of your hands swiping against the cold of his for a millisecond.

“I’ll put it on the side for you,” you said, turning your back for a moment to walk across the room and put the glass down. When you turned around again, Fez was taking his hoodie off. And when he exposed his forearms, there was something flecking them. You hadn’t noticed properly before, but there were tiny spots on his hands too.

“Fez, oh my God… is that blood?” You froze for a beat, before quickly walking back over to him and taking his arms in either hand, bringing them closer to look. “Jesus Christ, Fez, what happened?”

He sighed, overwhelmed, then met your eyes for the first real time that night. His voice was raspy and low when he finally managed to get out a single word. “Mouse.”

“Oh, Fez.” You stroked at his arm soothingly and studied his face, looking into him. Seeing him. “Come here. Sit down.”

“Nah… I-I'on wanna sit on your bed in these clothes,” the boy replied sadly.

“You wanna get changed? I have, like, a bunch of t-shirts and stuff that will fit you.”

“Nah, I can’t—“

You didn’t let him finish, going over to your closet to pick out a large grey tee you often wore then offering it to him. His face exuded resistance, but you were persistent, shoving it softly into his hands.

“Please?” God, you were so earnest it made his chest ache. He couldn’t help but cave and take the garment from you, a small thankful smile toying at the corners of your mouth. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Fezco returned your smile ever so slightly and blinked slowly. “M’kay.”

You gave his arm one last reassuring pat and left him to change, heading into the bathroom you shared with your sister. There was already a clean washcloth laid out on the small radiator to the left of the sink — you grabbed it and ran the hot tap, waiting for the water to come out warm, testing with an index finger. Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but allow a small tear to roll down your cheek. The way that you felt about this boy, the care that you had for him, ran through your fucking veins. It consumed you and your entire being. You just wanted to coat him in bubblewrap and keep him safe forever, never allowing anything or anyone to hurt him ever again.

The only other time that came close to this one was about seven months ago.

You had to coax the details out of him over the space of a few days (and even so, you knew he still wasn’t telling you something), but the gist was some fucker had walked up into the store, a conversation about drugs had ensued, and said fucker had gotten very pissy when Fez refused to take his shit. Guns had come out. Nothing was fired, thank God, and Fez had managed to subdue him. But not without taking a few hits.

He’d called you while you were at a party with your sister and her friends. You’d wondered where he was. It was a rare occasion to turn up at an East Highland party and for there to be no trace of Fezco — they were his gold mines. You weren’t immediately concerned, but you remembered being disappointed; parties were a place you could normally guarantee his presence, and to be honest you were always asking around if there’d be one hosted. You wouldn’t admit it to yourself yet, but it was an excuse to see him. You could only get so many Diet Cokes from the store, or go on so many tag-along-with-Rue-to-Fezco’s-house trips.

You had to stop yourself from answering the phone eagerly on the first ring, leaving Lexi with a quick, ‘be right back’, and weaving through the scattered teens to stand outside.

“Hello?” you greeted him, making a mental note to absolutely under no circumstances sound drunk. You’d not really had that much to drink, but the balmy night air hitting you made your head spin.

“Wassup.”

“Is… everything okay?”

“Uh… I mean… shit, could be better.”

“What? Why?”

Fez paused. “Just some fuckin’ bullshit. Where you at? You not at home?”

“Nah, I’m just, like, at some party.”

“You havin’ a good night?”

You smiled into the phone. He was always so fucking thoughtful. You’d never met anyone who’d asked how you were doing as many times — and genuinely meant it. He really did care about how you were feeling, about what you had to say. “Yeah. Could be better, though.”

“Why’s that?” He was smoking, you could tell. His voice had that groggy lilt it always got, and you could hear him inhale every now and then.

You didn’t know whether to lie, or say what you’d planned on — what the truth was. You’d set yourself up for it now, a moment of extra liquid courage coursing through you, and your tipsy mind couldn’t cycle fast enough to come up with anything else. “Because you’re not here.”

Fez sucked his teeth and chuckled slightly. “Shit. Chill.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yeah.”

“…Can I come over? This kid’s house is, like, really close.”

“I mean… yeah… but you ain’t sure you wanna stay ’n’ like… have fun and shit?”

“I have fun with you.”

“Shit, girl, you know what I mean.”

You slowly blew air out through your nose. “It’s not the same being at a party without you there, anyway.”

“I mean… okay… but… I might not be the most fun right now.”

It made you sad to hear that. Not just because he was one of your favorite people in the world and you always had the best time around him, but because usually when he said something along those lines it meant he felt like shit. Usually because something bad had gone down.

“Fez, why did you say you could be better? Did something happen?”

The line was quiet, but you could hear him shuffle slightly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you soon, m’kay?”

“I won’t be long. See you soon.” Love you.

You locked your phone and headed back inside, spying Lexi in the same spot you left her. She looked up and smiled. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you replied, returning her fond grin before tapping her gently on the arm. “Listen, Lex, I’ve gotta head out. But… be safe, okay? Look after Rue, and text me when you’re home.”

“Yeah, course.” She leaned in, loud music and surrounding chatter making it difficult to be heard. “But where are you going?”

It was hard to decide whether to say, ‘doesn’t matter’, or make up an excuse, or God knows what else. In the end, you settled on, “I’m just meeting up with a friend.”

It was the truth, after all. Fez was your friend.

Lexi’s face was neutral. She wouldn’t ask too many questions; even though you’d become friends in your own right, you were her best friend’s older sister. It wasn’t her place to pry. “Well, okay. Be careful, though.”

You smiled and hugged her. “See you later.”

Fez was expecting you when you turned up. He opened the door slightly quicker than usual — not that you always over-analyzed it. And when he opened the door this time, it immediately made your stomach drop.

“God, Fez, what happened?” you questioned vigorously, stepping forward into the house. His face was bruised and so were his hands, deep purple dappling his cheekbone, his eye, a firm circle around each knuckle.

“Told you this wasn’t ‘boutta be fun.”

You’d spent the rest of the night on his couch together, the TV on low in the background as you talked. A blunt was passed back and forth, and Fezco had dodged the topic of how he got injured. As much as you wished he’d just tell you, you dropped it — you didn’t want to pester him, knowing it would most likely just lead him to clam up even more.

He still allowed you to trace around each bruise patiently and delicately, the weed making your fingertips ignite fireworks under his skin. Even though you weren’t his, he thanked God for sending you to him.

In the same moment, he couldn’t help but fight back tears because he knew he didn’t deserve you.

As the clock ticked on and it drew into the early hours of the morning, it was becoming harder and harder to stay awake — you fought valiantly, craving as much time with him as you could get. You didn’t remember drifting off, just that you stirred a few minutes later with your neck at a god-awful angle and Fez gone. The crochet blanket that lived on the couch was draped across your lap.

“Hey…” Fez’s voice was soft as he returned from down the hall, holding something in each hand. “Saw you slippin’ and I knew you’d kill me if I letchu’ fall asleep with alla’ that makeup on.”

He passed you a packet of baby wipes and placed a cold water bottle on the coffee table. Your heart burst at his thoughtfulness, and you beamed up at him fondly.

“Listen, I’m gonna go to bed. But you need anything, lemme know.” You nodded, and Fez gave you a small, tight smile before making his way back down to his room.

As you dragged the wet wipe across your face and took a few gulps of your water, you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that filled your core nor stop the tears from flowing. It was easier to ignore when you were chatting and laughing quietly together, but now the room was dark and you were alone all you could think about was how scared you were for Fez. To you, he was the sweet and gentle boy who would always make sure your favorite drink was stocked at the store and refuse to let you pay. Who would smile and shyly wave across the room at a party every single time he saw you. Who would bring you fucking baby wipes at 2am because he knew, even inebriated, you would never fall asleep with makeup on.

You’d known what he did for years, and the dangers that inevitably came with it. But you’d always tried to push the worries down, to focus on what was in front of you. Seeing him the way he was that day made it so fucking real. As you sat there and grazed his bruises with your fingers, you couldn’t fathom the idea that someone would ever want to hurt him. He was as close to perfect as a person could get. But he was a drug dealer.

And a hell of a lot of people want to hurt drug dealers.

You’d awoken the next morning with swollen eyes and the scent of fresh toast in your nostrils. A steaming coffee had been placed in front of you, and you could hear someone shuffling quietly around the kitchen.

“Morning,” you yawned out upon stretching and looking around, spying Fez clad in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. He looked up from grabbing butter out of the fridge.

“Mornin’. I ain’t wake you or nothing, right?”

“No, no, you’re good.”

Fezco nodded and began to butter the toast generously. “I didn’t know what was your, like, breakfast a’ choice.” He picked the plate up and padded over, handing it to you. “So I thought toast was a solid bet.”

You blew air out of your nose and smiled warmly — he was so fucking cute. “Toast is definitely a solid bet. Thank you so much, Fez.”

The two of you ate breakfast together in comfortable silence on the sofa, once he’d joined you carrying a bowl of sugary cereal. He’d burnt the toast a little, but you didn’t mind. Not one bit.

It was gone 10:30 when you knew you finally had to leave. Your sister was most likely on her way back from staying at Lexi’s (she’d already texted you the night before asking where tf did you go, and again that morning asking are u dead), and you didn’t want your parents overly questioning about why you two didn’t come home together.

Fezco, of course, insisted on giving you a lift despite your protests. It wouldn’t have been too far to walk, but you were still in your outfit from the night before and the morning air had a slight chill to it. He’d debated giving you one of his sweaters, but in the end got nervous and missed his window to say anything too many times. He kicked himself for it later.

On the ride home, you stole the AUX and put on a song you knew you both liked. And as you quietly sang in his direction, trying to coax a smile, all you could think of when you studied the way his eyes lit up and the tender glances he sent was that you wished you could bottle the moment and bathe in it forever.

But nothing good lasts forever.

[husbandohunter]

You know ur small predicament post?? you should make a reverse version where s/o is smaller!

A Smaller Predicament [Genshin Impact x Smol!Reader]

Characters: Scaramouche, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo

Synopsis: Not only did you shrink, you went pocket sized as well!

(A sequel to "A Small Predicament")

(A/n): Sorry for the long wait anon, and I kind of added a twist to the scenario for more diversity hahaha hope you don't mind >_<. And why is Childe the poster boy for this series lmao.

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Childe

When Childe walks in, he doesn't see you....until he looked down. He almost crunched you beneath his feet if it weren't for your constant flailing of arms and screeching voice. He blanks out for a hot minute as you clung onto his toes, doesn't dare to move an inch because he's so petrified (even though there's nothing to be afraid of??). But honestly if Childe moved right now, he might accidentally flail you to the side and that's the last thing he wants.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU??" He screamed so loud it nearly blew you out of proportion. Seems like he's going to have alot of adjusting to do. Childe is a tall man (canonically the tallest) and he knows how impulsive he can get which is why he bought a handmade dollhouse from one of the Liyue merchants for you to stay in.

Though there's something about your tiny size that makes his heart flutter. With your face so small with a pair of eyes far too big, *clutches chest* "My oujo-chan is so cute" -Childe probably. He won't stop saying them over again and you were growing tired of his gushing reactions. He can't help it. He wants to spoil you rotten. You fit right onto the flat of his palms, the way you just snuggle up againts his finger and he just- swoons, might tear up (bruh).

Toys may be for kids but for Childe it was now his favourite pass time. While you navigate around the wooden dollhouse, he pitches in by moving around the furniture to make it easier for you. Offers to carry you through the rooms like a personal elevator. And please, please let him tuck you to bed. He has to pinch his fingers to grab the blanket. It's so adorable to him.

Loves it when you snuggle up against his collar. He thinks it would be the best area for you to be nearby him since the risk of you getting hit by anything (or him) by accident is very slim chance. Sometimes he pulls up his collar so that you're more comfortable and cradled within. He would have to avert his eyes down rather than turning his head if he wanted to look at you otherwise you'd be hit by his chin and that would hurt.

The poking sensation with you by his neck can bother him since he's veeeery tickilish there. Plus, Childe can get easily sweaty so have fun with that.

You have a feeling that he wasn't so pleased when you transformed back. You might be right. Actually, you are right. He secretly has an extra potion hidden somewhere...just in case.

Diluc

Mortified, his soul just left his body. To think things couldn't get any worse ever since he turned into a child to the point no one took him seriously, now you're literally the size of an apple. Oh god what if his bird suddenly swoops in and gobbles you right up? Or the wrath of the wind comes by, swirling you away towards a tornado. Needless to say, Diluc grew paranoid over your well-being ever since.

Due to your extremely small size, he will ensure that you are supervised by him (except at night where he has places to go). In otherwords, you're slipped into the inner pocket of his coat. It's super warm, you can fall asleep (and feel his heartbeat awww). Diluc doesn't like keeping you in places where people can see you, it would be too easy for outer things to access your tiny form (or maybe he secretly likes the feeling of you in his pocket.)

And he's such a gentleman about it. You noticed how careful he moves among his footsteps because he's worried that you might get dizzy. Diluc guards the pocket at close parameter, keeping an eye on things so he won't bump into them. As if he was treading on thin ice (you even suggested it was best to leave you home but he's too overprotective for his own good).

You're like his little assistant. Diluc does so much paperwork through out the day and although the act was small, he finds it endearing how you would help bring the papers back to it's rightful pile or pushing the ink bowl towards him. Or during his shifts at Angel's Share, crawling around the glass utensils and trying to find a specific wine beverage on his shelf. Of course that only happens when the shop is closed, how is he going to explain to his patrons that you shrank and now live in his pocket?

He dislikes the thought of you wandering too far. It's so easy for you to get lost especially when the mansion is so large.

At night you now sleep atop the fluff of the pillow. Diluc is a calm sleeper so he won't have to worry about hitting into you. However he radiates warmth so you just subconicously roll towards to his face. He usually wakes up with you sprawled over his nose. He can hardly breath (careful, he might just sneeze too).

This all happened because of the experiements you participated with Albedo. Diluc ensures that doesn't happen again. It will take some tencaious effort to convince him otherwise.

Scaramouche

Fuck this guy. He treats you like his new pet, a new toy (though you technically are one). He has this arrogant, smug and sadistic look as if he was a predator looking at his prey and grabs you by the collar before dangling you up in the air.

"Hmph, looks like the tables have turned," he says while toying with your state. You tell him he's just angry because he's short himself and mad that everyone else in the Fatui organization is taller than him. Scaramouche demon face activated. He's about to devour you. (Maybe you should keep your mouth shut this time. Honestly your relationship with him is pretty weird).

His hat is so fun to play with. You'd swing around like Tarzan using the strings that were hanging from it. His head was your playground now which annoys him to an enourmous extent because it makes him look ridiculous. Scaramouche will have a hard time catching you since you move around so much. Climb around him, especially the back of his neck. He'll start wheezing when you tickle him there.

The type to put you in a box but also the type to keep you on his shoulders. Being relied on makes him feel taller (lmfao). Scaramouche seemse to have developed a habit to poke your cheeks whenever he needed your attention and you bit him back once when he pushed too hard that you nearly fell off. Despite your size, your teeth still hurt. He threatens to put you back into the box if you don't behave and the outcome ends with a full out brawl as he tries to grab you again while you run around, pulling the strands of his hair to climb on top of his hat. (This is literally Tom and Jerry wtf.)

After transforming back, he outwardly admits his disappointmen. Scaramouche says it suits you better (when he actually meant that he highly prefers you small). You marked his words, keeping an extra vial for your own entertainment in the near future.

Xiao

Xiao was face-palming against his forehead real hard about this. For the love of Rex Lapis, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time? First it was the child incident, now you're the size of his finger? Good grief, looks like he will have to keep an eye on you from now on but at the same time he's scared to get too close, you are nothing but a tiny mortal in which he would have to double his effort to look after.

He lets you sit at the crown of his head rather than anywhere else. You insisted since it was easier to see everything at a nice distance (plus he's short so you won't have to worry about him bumping into door frames). You noticed that Xiao also has a little strand sticking out from the center (ahoge) and you sometimes grab onto it for stability. Turns out he's quite sensitive there and winces when you pull too hard.

For the remaining week as the antedote was being prepared, Xiao became extremely aggressive over your well-being, he looks as if he's ready to massacre everything in his way...which he did. Clears out the monsters off the path before going on daily strolls with you, you wouldn't have to lift a finger from now on. No one except for him is allowed to hold you unless they're a trustworthy person. You could feel his sharp eyes glued on you like a hawk when walking into the grasp of Zhongli's hand.

You once accidentally tripped into his almond tofu when he wasn't looking and he almost ate you. Turns out being small made his job as your gaurdian ten times harder (especially when you're the clumsy type). If you were to fall off the table, he would have to catch you right? Xiao often bumps into furnitures in the process...ouch!

He's very soft. It's all over his forehead, his mouth, his eyes. When he looks at you, his tense eatures melted away and there's an invisible fondness over them as he cradles you in his palm. The way you snuggle in them is lke the most precious thing in the world.

When you turn back, there's a wave of relief. He was really stressed out you know?

Zhongli

His first thought is to get you as far as he can from the Funeral Parlour before Hu Tao finds you. Who knows what that child might have in mind. Zhongli takes one of his empty tea pots and urges you to go inside, or carries a tea cup with you in it, he likes placing you on objects while carrying you around.

Zhongli realizes that you can no longer use the household items like before so he has to remake them to your standards- especially when he realized he doesn't have the mora to buy you a dollhouse. He improvises. Takes a handkerchief to make your blanket, his cups for your bathtub, Zhongli had to cut the foot into byte-sized too. But in terms of clothes, well he had to make them as well. Living thousands of years would mean he would have lot of experience. Sewing was one of them luckily. But that would mean he has to take your measurements as well. In the end, most of the things he made were dresses since they were alot easier.

You like to sneak in between his shirt and his vest tucked behind the coat he wears. Unfortunately Zhongli doesn't seem to have visible pockets (most likely the reason why he doesn't carry mora either), though if you don't hold on tight you might just slip down his vest and right to his stomach. It makes him chuckle when that happens even if the amount of effort to get you out took more than he thought since his attire is quite complicated to put on. If you really want to climb on him, he'll find a seperate pouch (but realizes it won't be a good idea when there's alot of pick-pocketers in Liyue streets).

All of a sudden he reads you bedtime stories. It's some sort of inner instinct that tells him he's taking care of a child now (he's right though). You realized that his voice was equivalent to a thunder's roar due to size difference. He would have to whisper now.

It will always be part of his precious memories when you turned pocket-sized. Zhongli still keeps the clothing he made somewhere in his closets too.

Kaeya

Amused by this eventful situation. Absolutely thrilled! He's not evil like Scaramouche but this new version of his s/o is both adorable and fun at the same time. You're so easy to tickle, just one poke using his finger against your hips makes you yelp. Sometimes he twirls your hair or taps your forehead gently despite your protest, he's so handsy like always in an affectionate yet annoying way.

Kaeya picks you up and places you among the fluffy comfort of his feathery scarf. You sneezed, the last time he cleaned it was before he went on a mission with the knights. Though you have to admit, it's the best feeling in the world. It's so soft you might sink deeper into the fabric. He likes to put you in places where he can talk to you easily, sometimes on the table while he downs on his wine. Normally you have to take the bottle away before it gets too much, now you have to push it away which he finds very entertaining at your futile attempts.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you tell him. Since you turned byte-sized, he can't seem to stop playing around. Takes his two fingers and pretends they're legs walking across the surface. You would turn around and he halts, Kaeya sends you his signature grin. When he promises that he wouldn't do anything funny, you would let him hold you. Since hugs are out of the equation, Kaeya gives you his finger instead to wrap your arms around. He can't get enough seeing you like this, things he couldn't do when you were normal-sized. he enjoys your reactions way too much.

His favourite pass time is helping you brush your hair because the hairbursh is too big for you to handle. Kaeya ensure he's handling things delicately but he would love to help style it for you as well. Pretty please? At this point one request turns to another because he's having way too much fun. But it couldn't be helped since you would need his assistance in almost everything so there's really no escaping.

You were so happy when things were normal again but Kaeya would bring this up again during your conversations (how next time he would like to put you in his drinks while you're wearing a swim suit).

Albedo

Legit blurted out if he could put you on a hamster wheel.

What about trying out the little maze he just made?

Or participating in a race against slimes of different elements?

No? Okay, then he'll just turn you back.

Albedo isn't going deal with this as along as he can help it (especially when he remembers what Klee did to him when he turned small.)