#when he has a mission they just kind of gently toss him into the mission venue through a window and ignore the screams

[itsnotbird]

Orphic~ File 5

Taciturn (adj.); Silent; not talkative

Warnings: mentions of abuse, drugs, withdrawal, violence, language.

Bucky!Barnes x Fem!Reader

Previous part here

Masterlist

“James.”

“It’s alright, James.”

He stirs, letting out a soft breath as you come into his vision. He’s not afraid of the hands that run through his hair, how your fingers gently stroke his jaw, showing him the softest comfort he’s ever known. He finds himself reaching for you, his hand twisting in your hair as his forehead presses to yours.

“Shh, I’m here now.” You soothe. “It’s okay.”

He shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut before they open, seeing you smile gently, laid beside him on the floor.

“No.” He mumbles, a hint of a whine trailing after the word.

“You’re a good man.” You promise him, nuzzling your nose to his.

“My hands are red.” He tells you, heart beat in his ears as your soft hand slips down his check to rest of the side of his neck.

“And yet, I trust them completely.” You whisper into his ear. “I could be good to you if you let me. Won’t you let me?”

As you slot your lips to his, you gasp in his air.

Bucky wakes up with a start, chest heaving. His eyes look around the bare apartment. It’s empty as always.

Hands pressed to his eyes, he mutters to himself, his teeth grit.

“Get out of my head.”

“Get out of my head!”

- - - -

You suddenly understand why people can’t stop addiction.

This feeling is comparable to physical abuse, something you know much about.

By some miracle, you’ve managed to get out of bed and shower. You put on your own clothes, the things you yourself picked out. It’s a good feeling, but as you walk to the kitchen, you think your teeth might just crack.

Coffee might help.

“Hello, Blue.”

You jump, turning to see Vision behind you.

You give a simple smile, then wave your hand up for a coffee mug to come into your grasp from the cabinet.

“Your abilities are very fascinating.” He states. “Have you tried to use them on yourself? To get rid of that feeling you have?”

You toss him a look over your shoulder.

Of course you tried. Unfortunately, the people who cursed you with these powers made sure you couldn’t inflict them on yourself, almost like a safety precaution so you wouldn’t end yourself when they weren’t looking.

You lean on the kitchen island and sip the coffee, cringing at the bitterness. The sugar jar drifts over, you scoop two spoonfuls in. You drink the coffee quickly, hoping it’ll settle you.

“I understand your urge to remain silent.” Vision says. “The others might find it odd but rest assured, I do not criticize you.”

You muster up the best smile you can, then pat his hand. In your opinion, if anyone was odd, it would be the one that is a large computer chip who looks like a dignified gentleman with blonde hair.

You respect his kindness.

Taking bland tasting wafers with you, you wander the halls, take the elevator to different parts of the compound. To your surprise, you don’t run into many people, the agents and workers that you do come across, they don’t speak to you.

After about twenty minutes of taking in your surroundings, you come across a file room on the third floor, meaning it was restricted access.

You jab your finger against the key pad, it blinks at you angrily.

With one simple flick of your hand, the door creaks open.

You laugh.

Wasn’t this supposed to be a high security facility?

You shut the door behind you and curiously look over the filing cabinets. They’re labeled all differently, separated into mission reports and previous alliances or enemies. You open the one that’s labeled ‘Tony’s Cult’, assuming that meant the information on the Avengers.

You bring a stack out and sit comfortably on the floor. Like a good book, you dive in, getting lost in abilities, missions, back stories.

It might be an invasion of privacy, but they all read your file so you assume you can read theirs. You learn birthday’s, quirks that are noted in, who has confirmed kills and who doesn’t. You laugh at the file of Peter Parker, because there’s not much there besides everything that screams ‘child with odd ability’.

You enjoy Steve’s, because it reminds you of the children’s books you read hundreds of times while in The Ring. He’s the hero, the one that saves the day. He is everything you were told you were going to be if you killed a man you didn’t know. He was given a gun for the good of America, you were given powers for the good of a rich family.

James Buchanan Barnes

‘The Winter Soldier’

Your fingers pause before they open the dusty folder.

This felt more like the stories they told you to scare you into behaving. This was your story.

Confirmed kills…

Hydra…

…war…

…Bucky and Steve…

…prisoner…

…brain washed…

…Deadly, be advised…

…assassin…

Your brows furrow, all these words spin in your mind. Holding up his military id photo, you smile at his charming face in a sergeant uniform. You compare it to the stone cold expression of The Winter Soldier, and determine it’s two different people you’re looking at.

There’s a rather awful photo of his left shoulder, how the skin is scarred and mangled as it meets silver metal.

You reach to feel the brand on the back of your neck, your nails scrape it.

- - - -

Natasha knocked on your bedroom door, only to be met with silence. Figuring you’re eating breakfast, she searches for you in the kitchen, only to find Steve and Sam play fighting with wooden spoons.

“Where’s Blue?” She asks the two boys who quickly drop their pretend weapons.

Steve clears his throat. “Asleep still, maybe.”

Nat shakes her head. “I was just at her room.”

“You try the MedBay? Doesn’t she get poked around this time?” Sam asks.

“Her infusions are done, that’s why I’m concerned. Last thing we need is an important asset to be passed out somewhere.” She stresses just as Wanda joins them.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

“Have you seen Blue?” Steve asks.

Wanda shakes her head.

They split up, searching every room.

You put the files back the best you could after the shaky feeling became too much. You wrap your arms around your cramping sides, somehow making it back to the living space where you collapse on the couch.

“Jesus, where have you been?” Nat asks as she comes in to find you, but her concern grows as she takes in your pale expression.

“What’s wrong?” She comes to your side, soon joined by Steve and Wanda. “How do you feel?”

I’ve never been better.

You refrain from rolling your eyes, you continue to shiver.

“Bruce said she has to let the shakes run its course, they can’t keep giving her that stuff.” Nat states to the two that join as you roll onto your side.

“Here, let me.” Wanda comes forward, you see the red glow at her fingers and shuffle away in uncertainty.

“Blue, this won’t hurt.” She promises, placing here fingers an inch from your forehead as she tries to figure out what you need.

“She’s cold.”

Steve is quick to sit beside you, pulling you to lay on his lap.

Wanda’s face twists in the agony you feel. “There’s nothing we can give her?”

“Uh…baby aspirin?” Steve offers.

You try to think of something that has felt worse, maybe the first injection of the serum, how it burned in your veins. That felt pretty bad. But though you’ve experienced multiple parts of hell, this was certainly new.

“They’ve lowered the dosage for a month, should it be effecting her this bad?” Steve asks, his hand on your shaky shoulder.

Nat comes back with a wet rag, wiping your clammy forehead. “This isn’t a drug you buy from a dealer in his mom’s basement, Steve, this stuff could kill somebody with a normal system. They’ve been giving it to her like candy for fifteen years, she’s become dependent on it and now her body is trying to figure out how to function.”

Steve takes the rag and keeps it to your skin as he grumbles. “You could’ve just said yes.”

Your head lolls, a sort of hallucination wiping over your vision. You groan with discomfort.

“I can put her to sleep, maybe she’ll sleep it off?” Wanda offers.

Sure, sleep off the deadliest withdrawal known to man.

Despite your doubt, you feel a relief wash over you as Wanda shuts your eyes.

Oh…this is nice.

- - - -

At some point, Steve left you when he was sure you wouldn’t wake. Covered in a blanket, you lay peacefully on the sofa.

That’s how Bucky finds you.

He wasn’t expecting to come across you, but his feet are now planted as he stares down at you. It’s a bitter feeling in him, you sleeping soundly, having no idea of the anguish you’ve caused him. He could hate you for it, he probably should.

…but…

He just wants to see, just wants to answer one of the many questions he has. Carefully, he reaches for the hand that rest on your chest.

It doesn’t shock him like before.

It just makes him angry, actually. It felt the same as in that terror from the night, that oddly soothing touch that will never be meant for him.

He drops your hand, huffing to himself.

Somehow, he feels worse now.

“Dude.”

He snaps his head up at the voice, seeing Sam stand there with raised brows.

Fuck.

“How long have you been there?” Bucky asks, swallowing nervously.

“Uh, long enough to see you go all creepy stalker mode.” Sam responds, coming closer. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Bucky answers quickly and defensively.

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

He glares, then moves away from you and closer to Sam. “Drop it, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He bites.

Sam’s eyes widen. “Do you even know what you’re talking about?”

“…No. I don’t know.”

As Bucky storms off, Sam is hot on his heels.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“I feel like you want to talk about it.”

Bucky turns around swiftly. “You’re gonna be feeling something else if you don’t lay off.”

Sam raises his hands in defense. “Fine, suffer in silence, you damn cyborg.”

Bucky desperately tries to remember the rules his therapist gave him, more specifically rule number two.

Nobody gets hurt.

He has the urge to break that one.

Despite his pace, Sam keeps up with him.

“You know what, I get it. I get it. She’s mysterious, a little weird, like you, and she’s gorgeous. Of course you’d be obsessed with her.”

Bucky’s metal hand clenches in irritation. “I am not obsessed with her.”

Sam laughs over dramatically, clapping a hand onto Bucky’s shoulder. “That’s funny, that’s really good, you should be a comedian.”

Bucky zeros in on the contact he makes. “Remove your hand before I do it for you.”

Sam snatches it away. “You’re a little aggressive, you need to have an emergency session with your Doc?”

He manages to make it to his room without putting Sam through a wall. He thinks that’s improvement.

Leaning against the window, he rubs his head and tries to get those words out of his mind.

He wasn’t obsessed with you, just mildly interested in how you’re stitching yourself into his already fried brain. Of course you weren’t doing it on purpose, but you were doing it and it made him feel like he was slowly going crazy.

He does those stupid breathing exercises Raynor told him to do, cracks his neck, then leaves for the training room where Steve was expecting him.

Next part

[munson-blurbs]

Argyle x Fem!Reader smut

Summary: Your plans tonight only involve ordering a pizza, but a conversation with the pizza boy has you craving something very different.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), phone sex, masturbation (m! and f!), voice kink, Argyle is a simp as per usual

WC: 1.7k

A/N: This was inspired by me and @word-wytch ordering pizza at Steel City Con where the pizza boy did not want to get off of the phone. Nothing spicy happened, but it made us think...what if it had?

Also, big shout out to @munsonmuses for helping me with the ending. Love you, Addie!

--

“Surfer Boy Pizza, this is Argyle speaking. Can I interest you in a delicious pie? Perhaps the Argyle Special?”

You stare at the shiny brochure in your lap, breath catching in your throat when you hear his voice. You were expecting someone brusque, rushing you off of the line so they can collect the next order, but the man speaking to you might as well be laying on a white sand beach. 

“Um, h-hi,” you wince at the way you stammer, tempted to hang up and save yourself further embarrassment, but you keep the receiver pressed to your ear. Lenora Hills is a fresh start, a place where no one knows you, and you’re determined to spread your wings and become more than the ‘shy, awkward girl.’ So, even though you were going to order a small cheese pie, you push yourself to ask, “what’s the Argyle Special?”

Soft laughter trills from the speaker; it’s warm and welcoming without a hint of malice. “Oh, the Argyle Special? She’s kinda my baby.” Good lord, the way he says baby has your thighs clenching involuntarily. You hear him shuffling a bit, adjusting positions to get more comfortable. “So, we start out with your classic thin crust.” Argyle lowers his voice and adds, “You might think you can toss it in the air a coupla times and call it a day, but you’d be wrong. You gotta knead it, get all the kinks out, right?”

“Mhm.” Your free hand begins to dip below the waistband of your denim shorts before you pull back. What are you doing? Touching yourself to a stranger explaining how to make pizza? “I, uh, I gotta—”

“Next comes the sauce,” he continues, not noticing your interjection. “Now, less is definitely more here, y’know what I’m saying? A little goes a long way.”

You nod, too caught up in the moment to remember that he can’t see you. “A-And then what?”

“Cheese. Enough to achieve that perfect amount of gooey goodness, but not so much that it weighs down the slice.” Another peal of laughter, just as kind as the one earlier. “Some people ask for extra cheese, but in my humble opinion, it takes away from the rest of the toppings, y’know?”

There’s a quiet swishing sound coming from his end, and it draws your attention. “What’re you doing that’s making that noise?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yo-yo.” Your question has clearly caught him off-guard; instead of further explaining his baby, he asks, “what’re you doing?”

Immediately, your thoughts flit to the way your fingers yearn to be inside you, the way your clit aches to be rubbed each time he talks. But he can’t know that. “N-Nothing. Um, yeah, nothing.”

You can practically hear his brows raise in disbelief. “Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Argyle teases gently. “In fact, it sounds like you’re doing something important.” He pauses for a second. “Lemme guess: top secret CIA mission?”

“No.”

“FBI?”

You giggle despite the embarrassment washing over you. “Not quite.”

There’s silence; his audible breathing is the only way you know he’s still on the line. “You got a really cute laugh.” 

Is he flirting? This is flirting; it has to be. But he doesn’t even know what you look like. 

You don’t know what he looks like, either, and you were about to masturbate to him, you remind yourself wryly. Anything’s possible. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Sweet but also sexy. A rare combo, if you ask me.” 

You summon all of your courage; the ball is in your court. “I, um, I like your voice.” Heat pools in your cheeks as you say the words. 

“My voice? Shit, I always thought it was kinda goofy. My friend Jonathan says I sound like Cheech and Chong. Well, not, like, both of them, but just…one.” A rustling noise; he’s shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m not good with getting compliments and stuff.”

“S’okay. Me either.” You laugh again, finding the ability to be honest refreshing. “Keep telling me about your special. Your baby,” you amend. 

He exhales a cloud of lust. “Fuck, say ‘baby’ again.” Ah, so it had the same effect on him that it did on you. 

This time, you don’t chastise yourself for the way your fingertips graze your cotton panties. You and Argyle are clearly on the same page. Why fight it? “Tell me more about the Argyle Special, baby.”

“I gotta know first if you’re doing what I’m about to do,” he says breathily. 

“I am,” you affirm, finding your clit easily and applying the lightest pressure. 

A sharp inhale, then, just above a whisper, “Good. So, so good.” He unzips his fly and groans as his hand wraps around his cock. “I’m just gonna talk, and you keep touching yourself for me, okay?”

“Mhm. Just…keep going.”

“Shit, yeah, I got you.” Another moan as he strokes himself, his sentences getting choppier. “The toppings…I like to combine sweet and—mmf—savory.”

You tug your panties aside, slipping your middle finger into your waiting pussy. “Keep going,” you urge, desperate for his silky voice. 

“Some diced g-green pepper…sliced jalapeños…and…” Argyle’s focus is split between listing ingredients and jerking off, and one is evidently winning. 

“And what, baby?” There’s a slight edge to your tone—dare you say, a sultriness—as your ring finger joins your middle, fucking yourself with both of them. 

You’re not the only one who picks up on your newfound confidence. “And pineapple,” he manages. “Comes from a can…fuck, I can hear how wet you are.”

You whimper, forcing air into your lungs. Breathing has never been a manual task until right now. “It’s because of you.” Your fingers move faster; you curl them slightly to maximize your pleasure. “You and your voice.”

“I’d talk all goddamn day for you.” His voice is thick with desire. “I’d do anything you asked me to—oh, fuck,” he grunts. “What would you want me to do if I was with you right now?”

What wouldn’t you want him to do is an easier question, but you try to quickly formulate a response. “I-I’d want you to touch me.”

“More specific, honey,” he tuts. “Where do you want me touching you?”

Everywhere. Anywhere. You think about where your own hand would be if you weren’t holding the phone. “My clit,” you say urgently, “or my…my tits.”

“Mmm, I could put my mouth on one and my fingers on the—”

“No,” you insist, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Fingers only. Need to keep your mouth free so you can talk.”

A chuckle, then, “fair enough. Guess I’ll rub that pretty little clit of yours, huh? Make sure you’re ready f’me.” There’s a soft puh as he spits on his cock to lubricate it. “Wish I was inside of you. Bet you’re so wet…and warm…and—ohh, yeah— so tight…”

“I’m so close,” you whine, absolutely desperate for this orgasm. You tuck the phone between your ear and your shoulder, bring your newly-freed middle finger to your clitoris, now swollen with need. “Please, Argyle, tell me how you’d fuck me.”

“Oh, baby,” he rasps, the schlick of his fist stroking his erection becomes louder, faster. “I want you screaming my name. That sweet little pussy st-stuffed with my cock. And I’ll go deeper…and deeper…and deeper…until you can’t—fucking—take it!” He growls out the last four words. 

It’s enough to drive you to the edge. You don’t tell him you’re cumming, but he knows just from the choked moans that you’re there. Your fingers are shiny with the proof of your arousal as you finish all over them, wishing they belonged to Argyle. Wishing you belonged to Argyle. 

“I’m cumming, fucking shit, h-oh, my God.” He’s in another galaxy now, stars swirling around him as his release spurts from his aching tip and coats his hand in his sticky seed. “Holy fuckin’…whoa.” There’s a brief pause. “Gimme one sec, okay?”

Argyle’s racing across the kitchen, phone dangling from the cord, before you can even respond. “Sorry,” he says, panting and laughing when he returns to the receiver, “had to grab some paper towels and clean myself up. Can’t go walking around with jizz on my hands.” 

“Not a good look,” you agree, the warmth from your giggle melting any residual awkwardness. “You definitely need to wash them, like, a hundred times before you make another pizza.”

“Nah, man; I’m actually clocking out now. You were gonna be my last customer, but, uh…” he trails off, and it occurs to you that you never finished placing your order. “We got a little distracted.”

Distracted is putting it mildly, but you’re in no headspace for a semantics debate. “I guess I’ll have to call back the next time you’re working and try again.”

“Y-Yeah, for sure!” Eagerness dominates his tone, and he tries to rein it in. “Or, um, maybe you can come by in person? I’d like to see the girl who made me cum harder than I have since…ever,” he adds cheekily. 

“Mhm. I can do that.” Can you? Yes, you tell yourself, I can. I’m turning over a new leaf, and that apparently involves having phone sex with the pizza guy and then meeting him for the first time at his job. 

You swear you hear a quiet yet triumphant, “yes!” before he says, “You sure? Because I’d totally get it if you wanted to keep this a one-time thing.” His hesitation indicates that he’s no stranger to unrequited pining, like he’s bracing himself for a rejection. “But I gotta be honest with you; I really wanna see you.”

“I wanna see you, too.” You wrap the springy cord around your forefinger. If his voice could make you feel this way, imagine what he could do with his fingers, his tongue, his…

“I work from noon until six tomorrow, if you wanna stop in?” Argyle cuts into your train of thought. “Or if that’s too soon, then we can just—”

“Argyle?”

“Yeah?”

You smile widely even though there’s no way for him to know that. “See you at six tomorrow.”

--

[taintandviolent]

If you're still doing the drabbles could you please do one for Gambit/female reader with #40 please? Love your writing!

warnings: making out, feeling boners.... 'das it. // i'm sorry this is so late!!!

He’s out on a mission, and it’s been days, but your brain is flooded with thoughts of Remy Lebeau. You can’t stop thinking about him, about where he is, what he’s doing, who he’s with, and most importantly, what’s taking precedence in your mind, is when you’re going to be near him again. 

Why? Because, almost a week ago, he’d kissed you in the kitchen when no one else was around, and it was easily one of the best kisses you’ve ever experienced in your entire life. It was warm, smooth and deep, the kind of kiss that lingers, the kind of kiss that leaves you licking your lips like a child licking a sticky sweetness off of their lips. And yet, he hadn’t even used tongue. It was just that good.

It feels like an arduous task, but you somehow manage to focus on something else for a little while – a brief workout. The reprieve is short-lived because eventually, thoughts creep back in, and you’re left frustrated, trying to tame your hunger for that man. You throw the towel over your shoulder, and head down the hallway to your room. 

In a flurry of motion, his jacket flaring out behind him, Remy captures you in his arms. You hadn’t heard him or the others come back, so the surprise is evident on your face when he urges you back against the wall. 

“Well, hi.”

Your eyes sparkle as you stare at him, taking in the visuals of the man you’ve been literally dreaming about for days.

“I wanna’ taste you on my lips again, chere.”His mouth hovers over yours, like he’s asking for permission, even though he doesn’t have to. 

God, he never has to. You’re still pressed up against the wall, his body pinning you to it. You can feel the rigidness of his armor, the leather of his gloves as they trail up your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

You nod and crush your mouth against his, hungrily. His tongue darts out, sweeping across your bottom lip swiftly. You open your mouth, granting him access and his tongue tangles with yours, tasting every inch of your mouth. You bring your hands to the side of his face, to pull him closer to you, but also just to feel him, to touch him. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss and he responds by doing the same, letting his hands wrap around your waist, fingers pressing into the small of your back. 

You don’t know what it is that you have with Remy Lebeau, but what you do know is that if he keeps kissing you the way he’s kissing you now, you’re going to lead him back to your room and lock the door. 

“You know how much I missed you?” He breaks the kiss, but his lips are still so close to yours, you can feel his hot breath rushing out over them. 

You shake your head. Remy’s hand finds yours, and tugs it over his groin, laying it over his hard, aching cock. The bulge that meets your hand is hot and begging for release, straining against the tight fabric. In a slow motion, he urges his hips tighter against your hand, and you grip it outside the fabric. 

Apprehensive, you toss a glance down the hallway, checking for anyone else. You two are alone for the time being. Gently, Remy pulls your face back to his, unhappy with your attention being elsewhere. His hand comes down atop yours, pressing your hand harder into his swelling dick. 

“Remy,” you murmur, looking at his face. “You don’t know how much I’ve been thinking about you… you don’t wanna’ know.” 

“Oh, cher… I think I do.”

[bensolosbluesaber]

Nowhere to Run: Part 2 (Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader)

Read Part 1 Here

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x Spider-Woman!f!reader

Warnings: Miguel helps reader through a panic attack (descriptions based on my own experiences but not necessarily perfectly written down), mentions of isolation and isolation-related trauma, references to child loss, scars

Summary: Living in Nueva York and working with the Spider Society is pretty great... except for Miguel O’Hara, the man who injured you, saved your life, and now refuses to speak to you. Luckily, Peter B. Parker loves interfering in Miguel’s life, so when you’re at your lowest, it’s Miguel who is there to help you through it. ~ 2,200 words

Angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending

A/N: This is still dedicated to the Miguel O’Hara editors on TikTok as well as the people leaving the comments. There are light spoilers for AtSV (I made up an ending for BtSV since this is set after that).

--

Two Months Later…

Miguel O’Hara kept his promise. His Spider Society ran all kinds of tests, searching for an explanation for the rapid evolution that provided your the ability to travel the multiverse. Best they could guess, you had been close to the epicenter of your world’s implosion, close enough to absorb some of the energy leaking from what was essentially a black hole devouring the universe.

Another Spider-Woman had given you a more advanced goober - no, gizmo - to keep you from glitching and destabilizing the place they called Nueva York. It was Miguel’s home, she’d explained, and the home base of the Spider Society that kept watch over the multiverse. You’d started volunteering for missions with them, happy to be doing some good. It made you feel like a hero again, like there was a point to all the sacrifices that led you here.

But you hadn't seen Spider-Man 2099 since he dropped you off at a Nueva York hospital and huffed an order to “make sure she gets stitched up, and for god’s sake, get her some food.” That was two months ago.

--

“I can’t believe you bring a kid here.” You waved to Mayday who was sitting on her dad’s lap and trying to steal his food with her webs. For some reason, Peter had given her a web-shooter… as if toddlers weren’t difficult enough.

“Neither can I, honestly. But she loves these guys. Especially Miguel.” He frowned and took a bite of empanada. “She’s borderline obsessed with Miguel actually. I think it’s because he has such climbable shoulders. It’s good for him to see her too.”

“Meaning?”

“Ah nothing.” Peter waved off your question.

An awkward pause filled the space between you and Peter B. Parker. Just ask him, you told yourself.

“Is Miguel avoiding me?” Blunt. Right to the point.

“Ummmmm…” He drug out the word for far too long, looked to his daughter for help, seemed to remember she couldn’t do more than babble random sounds, and then sighed heavily. “Yes. He feels bad about…” Peter gestured broadly to you. “About a year ago we had a little situation with this kid - I mentored him. Good kid. Smart,” Peter added proudly. “This kid, Miles, made Miguel rethink a lot of things. We started handling anomalies... differently, a bit more gently.”

“He calls this gently?” You touched your scarred shoulder.

“Ummmmm… no.” Peter scooped Mayday out of the air where she was now dangling from the ceiling. “You freaked him out pretty bad. I mean you are a huge anomaly. Dangerous. He sort of, uh, how would those kids say it? Oh, yeah, he ‘went off the deep end.’ You should hear him tell the story.”

Mayday babbled incoherently.

“Yes ma’am, it does all seem a bit romantic when he tells it doesn’t it?” Peter cooed to Mayday then grinned at you.

You blinked once. Twice. Romantic?

Mayday went zipping away. Peter stood and sighed.

“Gotta get this kid, but I’m sending him to see you.” He took off after his daughter who was expertly navigating a minefield of other Spider-People (and animals). “Promise!” Peter tossed over his shoulder.

You seriously doubted Peter B. Parker would be able to convince Miguel to talk to you. And that was just as well because by the time you made it back to your room, it was turning into one of your bad nights. It was illogical. How could you could be fine for and suddenly a panic-stricken nightmare-ridden mess one random night? But then, the human mind is an enigma even to itself, the traumatized mind even more so.

It happened when you walked into your room and found yourself suspended in complete darkness. You followed the same routine every night, but today was different. Blackness surrounded you and closed in. You could see nothing, not even the hand in front of your face, and something tightened in your chest, clamped down on your lungs. For a second, you had control of the thing, were reaching for the light switch. Then you were spiraling.

Your mind was no longer in your safe room in Nueva York surrounded by the Spider Society who had taken you in and protected you and even become your friends. No. It was trapped in the silent and endless darkness of a collapsed universe, utterly alone, smothered in deafening silence. Your breath came in rapid, shallow pants, and you stumbled back until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You sat down on the soft mattress, drew up your knees, wrapped your arms around yourself, bowed your head, and tried to breath through it.

Caught in your panic attack, you didn’t even hear two familiar voices arguing, or see the light from the hallway fall across the room as the door was pushed open, or notice the shadows that loomed in the doorway.

“I know what you’re doing, Peter,” Miguel snarled.

“I’m not doing- why’s the door open?”

Miguel noticed you first. The dim room was the perfect environment for his sensitive eyes to make out your hunched form and trembling shoulders. In an instant, he was kneeling in front of you, an act that confirmed every one of Peter B. Parker’s suspicions. He watched for a moment from the doorway before taking a step back and closing the door with a click. Miguel had this under control. He was sure of it.

--

A deep voice, gravelly as if it were being drug over stones whispered your name. It wrapped around you, held you tight, and pulled you above the thrashing waves. That crushing feeling in your chest relaxed ever so slightly, and finally, you managed a deep breath. Then a second. It’s okay now. The worst is over.

After the third breath, you looked up and searched the dark room in a search of the voice’s owner.

Two dimly glowing red orbs shone in the darkness. You knew exactly one person with red eyes. Slowly, your own eyes adjusted, and the broad outline of Miguel O’Hara materialized. He wasn’t wearing his usual vibrant suit, just a dark colored sweater. Even kneeling on the ground he was still tall enough to be eye level with you. The two of you stared at each other for a long second before Miguel slowly raised a hand and... and brushed his thumb across your cheek?

What was happening? All you could do was blink stupidly at him, but when you didn't shy away he brought his other hand to your face. He smoothed his thumbs over your cheeks. He was wiping away your tears so gently and with such concern it seemed impossible. His hands were soft, softer than they had any right to be, and those dangerous claws that had done so much damage to you earlier were nowhere to be seen.

“You’re safe. You’re here with me.” Miguel’s voice was so commanding; he was obviously accustomed to giving order, but that actually made it more reassuring. “I’m here.”

I’m here. For some unexplainable reason those words reassured you more than anything. You didn't even think, just did. You slid forward on the bed and buried your face in the broad muscles of Miguel’s shoulder. His sweater was as soft as anything you could have imagined, and his warmth seeped through the fabric. He smelled like fresh laundry and something more woody and musky.

Miguel haltingly wrapped his arms around you, awkward at first, before he pulled you in closer. He held you like that for several long minutes, running his hands across your back and drawing small circles with fingers until your breathing synced with his. 

Since coming to this place, the most physical contact you had with anyone was the occasional hug or handshake or Mayday crawling up your arm. Before that it was Miguel holding you in the rain while he sucked his venom - you had confirmed that it was venom - from your body. Before that you had been trapped in a collapsed universe or on the run. Before that... well, being Spider-Woman was a lonely job.

To be held like this was the most comforting experience you had in longer than you cared to remember. You didn’t want to let go. Even when you realized that in this position Miguel was kneeling between your legs you didn’t let go.

Eventually, he shifted with a quiet huff. You pulled back immediately. What were you doing? Miguel definitely didn’t want you all over him. What could you have possibly been thinking, using the man who actively avoided you for comfort?

Miguel stood and stretched. You looked away, suddenly self-conscious.

“Thank you. I’m okay now,” you muttered.

That was an obvious lie. The man tilted his head as he gazed down at you. He knew what this loneliness was like, how it felt to have wallowed in solitude for so long that you forget how to feel anything but alone. His eyes shifted to your shoulder where a tank top did nothing to hide the four long scars he had left in your skin. You tracked his gaze and immediately tried to cover them with your hand.

“I’m okay,” you repeated, hinting that he could go even though part of you - an insane, irrational, needy part of you - wanted him to stay.

Miguel ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair with a sigh before sitting down, uninvited, on your bed. Next to you. He sat down next to you. On your bed.

Miguel O’Hara was handsome. You never denied that, especially now while he was inches from you smelling the way he smelled and radiating much needed warmth. The temptation to lean into him was strong, but not strong enough to override your embarrassment that he, of all the Spider-People, had seen you at your lowest point.

“I thought you were jumping through the Arach- the Spider-Verse with bad intentions. I had no idea you were running… from me.” The explanation came out of nowhere. Miguel turned to look down at you. “You had the potential to cause a lot of damage, and I panicked. I forgot you’re one of us, and I hurt you, and I’m sorry.” Another long pause. “My claws have never poisoned anyone before.”

The apology was genuine, you could hear it in his voice. Some invisible barrier between the two of you shattered then.

“Are you saying you didn’t mean to kill me with your venomous talons, you only meant to seriously maim me with your regular talons?” You could feel a smile growing as you tried joking with him.

Miguel looked back at the bed spread. Should you? Was this a good idea? You threw caution to the wind and leaned over to bump your shoulder against Miguel’s.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ve all made mistakes. Glad I was threatening enough to scare you like that.”

“That’s not what- okay.”

“You can look at them. If you want, I mean.” You nodded to your scarred shoulder.

Slowly, as if afraid to scare you off, Miguel smoothed a finger over the scars. They were deep and jagged, but had healed rather well all things considered. His hand on your neck startled you for a moment before you realized what he was doing. Four tiny scars from his fangs still decorated your skin, and he was tracing his thumb over each one.

Miguel felt you swallow, realized what he was doing, and then froze. A single second stretched into an eternity during which you could confront every thought racing through your head. He’d chased you for months, but he had a good reason. He’d hurt you. Then he saved your life. There was that thing Peter said about Mayday being good for him. And Miguel’s sad eyes and ever-present frown. And how warm he’d felt while he held you. And the ripples of muscle across his entire body.

He’d kept his promise not to send you back. And he was handsome. Handsome and sad. So instead of pulling away and kicking him out and going back to avoiding each other, you leaned into him.

There was nothing awkward about Miguel’s movements this time. He wrapped an arm around you and maneuver you both until you were laying down, curled up against his side, head on his shoulder, his arm around your waist.

“What is going on?” You whispered.

“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Miguel whispered back.

“Okay, but why?”

“Because... because I know how it feels to lose everyone and have no one to hold you.”

You looked up at him then. He was staring at the ceiling, some memory you couldn’t see dancing across his eyes. Peter said Mayday was good for Miguel then refused to answer any more questions. The frown lines. How ferociously he protected the multiverse. Mayday was good for Miguel. Mayday. The kid.

It hit you then, and it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. Miguel had lost his family, probably in circumstances not too different from your own. You wanted to know everything about the Spider-Man with the fangs and venom and the saddest eyes you had ever seen. Not now though.

Already, you felt sleep tugging at the edge of your consciousness, a sense of safety and comfort brought on by Miguel’s presence.

“You could stay until I wake up,” you offered drowsily and splayed a hand across his chest. “If you want.”

Miguel ran his fingers lightly over the back of your hand.

“I think I might.”

--

A/N: There is a teeny tiny potential for an 18+ Part 3. No solid plan yet, but possible. Thanks for all the love on this fic!

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If you want taken off, just let me know! I’m doing my best with this, but it is starting to get pretty extensive. I am very very sorry if I missed you; please just resubmit!

[dreamingofaizawa]

You Promise?

Jushiro Ukitake x Fem!Reader

***18+ fic ahead, if you are not 18 or older please make your way to the nearest exit and detour around the page***

Warnings: Penetrative sex, fingering, lots of kissing and h*nd h*lding (gasp), Jushiro is a gentle lover (I'm in love with him methinks), lots of groping (mans is handsy okay? he just wants to feel you ;-;)

Word Count: 5.3k

Author's Note: I'M ALIVE BITCHES AHAHAHAHAHAHA But on a more serious note it's been like...over a year since I've actually posted anything for real o.O My sincerest apologies for vanishing off the map with no warning ;-; On a brighter note, my writer's block has decided to *poof* into thin air apparently, and obviously this is a fic tailored to Bleach!! I've been watching it recetly and holy SHIT why are there SO MANY HOT CHARACTERS? MY BISEXUAL ASS CAN'T TAKE THIS SHIT. Anyways, I'm alive, and I'm back, and hopefully I can toss aside this writer's block for good until the next one comes along.

ENJOY LOVELIES <3

It’s a warm day in the Soul Society, a cool breeze flitting through the Seireitei being the only reprieve from the blaring heat. And it’s calm, you decided. Calmer than it’s been in a long while, even with the stress of the former Squad 5 captain Sosuke Aizen’s plans looming on the far horizon. When he defected along with the other two former captains, Gin Ichimaru and Tosen Kaname it sent shockwaves through the Soul Society like none other. The events leading up to the moment of betrayal nearly tore the Seireitei and the 13 Court Guard Squads completely apart, trust between even the closest of friends fraying dangerously. 

“What’s wrong love, you seem distracted today.” You blink, your focus returning to here and now. That voice was none other than your captain, Jushiro Ukitake, as he sat in his bed. The thin blanket that usually draped over his legs was tossed aside in the heat, his usual captain’s uniform switched out for a lighter garment. Despite all that has happened, this is the man you’d always stand beside no matter what. Even if you didn’t love him the way you did, even if you weren’t constantly suffering through a surely unrequited love. A forbidden one, surely. Not that there were any real rules regarding captain-subordinate relationships that you knew of. You’d stand beside him even in the face of certain death, that’s just the kind of man he is. 

“My apologies captain, I didn’t mean to daydream.” His smile is gentle, sweet, kind as he regards you perched on the edge of his bed. Surely that smile could cure all your heart’s quarrels. If only.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m sure it gets boring watching over me day and night.” That’s right, you thought, it’s been just you for the past few months while Sentaro and Kiyone are out on a mission. You hadn't even noticed the passage of time. It’s already been three months?

“Not at all, Sir. I enjoy your company. I’ve just been thinking that it’s been quiet lately, that’s all. Not that I’m complaining.” He chuckles, the baritone reverberating through your chest. You’ll never tire of that beautiful sound.

“It’s good to know this old man isn’t a burden to you. You must have many more important things to do besides looking after me.” What nonsense.

“You could never be a burden to me, Captain Ukitake. I may have been assigned to you for the time being, but I volunteered my time to you long before that. The only menial task I have is some easy paperwork every week or so, so don’t worry about my mundane paper pushing.” You smile at him, really smile. You want him to feel your dedication to him, your willingness to be here. You want to be here. A breeze drifts through the window and out the door of the room, sending his long white hair floating in the wind. It’s a majestic sight, truly. He’s so handsome, so gentle, so strong even in his sickness. You commit every waking moment in his presence to memory. 

“Such a kind girl you are,” he reaches a hand out, grasping yours gently and staring deep into your eyes, “What would I do without you?” For a moment you’re stunned, those eyes of his piercing you in the heart, the heat from his hand on your skin almost burning you. It’s not unusual for him to hold your hand, especially in moments like this where he wants to express his gratitude to you. But no matter how many times he reaches out to you, you’ll never get over the fluttering of your heart and the warmth it brings you. You laugh then, easily coming up with an answer to his rhetorical question.

“Probably have Sentaro and Kiyone fighting over who gets to give you your medicine tonight.” He chuckles at your quip, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. He’s been looking healthier lately, happier, in the calm of late. He turns suddenly, smoothly standing from the bed with your hand still in his.

“It’s a nice evening. I’ve been meaning to go see the koi pond. Would you join me for a walk?” His smile is infectious as he asks, and how could you possibly say no? Who are you to deny him such a simple pleasure? If he feels well enough to go for an evening stroll, you’ll happily indulge him. You allow him to pull you with that unnatural strength that captains have, easily standing you up beside him. He’s clearly been wanting to go outside, he’s already out the door by the time you grab his white haori and slide the paper door shut behind you. He may not have chosen to wear it, but you’re taking it just in case it gets a little too cool. 

As you fall in step beside him, you take a deep breath and soak in all the scenery. The sun is slowly setting over the Soul Society, casting the sky in hues of yellow and gold. Not a cloud lingers in the sky. A constant light breeze flows through the barracks, and the combined warmth from the setting sun’s rays and the cooling wind settles into your bones, your body feeling light and refreshed. It’s a perfect evening for a stroll. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to settle on your captain. Gold is cast over his form, his hair and skin glowing in the light, breeze gently tousling the white strands around his face. It’s a sight reserved for your eyes, and you can’t help but want to stare at him forever. It takes you a moment to realize you’ve stopped walking altogether, and it takes far too long for you to realize the captain is staring at you as you stare at him. Heat crawls up your chest into your face, and you avert your eyes.

“I apologize, Captain.” You can’t think of anything else to say. You’ve been caught staring at your captain, surely with a doe-eyed expression of admiration and longing. He probably read you like a book. You’re stunned again when he grabs your hand, resuming his relaxed stroll along the gravel path to the koi pond behind the barracks for the 13th squad. It’s all you can do to keep up, even in his slow pace his individual strides are incredibly large.

“I don’t mind at all, love. I’d be nervous having such attention on me, but I’m used to a pretty girl always looking at me these days.” Your eyes blow wide open and your jaw slacks as you stare up at him again, only to see a sideways glance and a sly mischievous smirk gracing his features. Is he…flirting?

Before you get the chance to think about what just transpired, you’re being tugged to sit next to the captain. You were so focused on Captain Ukitake you hadn’t realized you’d reached the koi pond. It’s a beautiful spot, you can’t deny that. The pink sky reflects off the surface of the water, the sound of a small fountain trickles into your ears. It smells of fresh water and wet stones, and the evening air tastes crisp and clear. It’s almost hypnotizing, mother nature’s own perfume.

Your attention shifts back to the captain beside you, as he once again grasps your hand firmly in his. It’s so much bigger than your own, and slender and strong. The callouses from hundreds of years of wielding a zanpakuto rough against your skin. His thumb traces shapes into the back of your hand, and as you look up at him you find his eyes already locked on you. There’s something hidden there, something dark and deep and gravitating.

“I want to thank you for being here with me for these past months. You know you don’t have to.” Again, nonsense.

“Captain Ukitake, I already-“

“Jushiro.” He interrupts. You nearly let out a gasp.

“What? Captain…”

“Call me Jushiro. We’ve known each other long enough, I’d much prefer you use my given name.” It’s all you can do to blink in the shock. Sure, you’ve known each other for a few centuries, but you’re still his subordinate. He’s still your captain. And saying his name so casually may just feel like a stab in the heart.

“It would make me happy if you did.” Of course he’d pull that card. If he insists.

“Well… okay, Jushiro.” Goodness, it feels strange. Knowing his name and saying it are two very different things.

“Good, thank you. Now what was it you were saying?” Oh… you almost completely forgot.

“Right. I may not have to, but…I want to. Like I said earlier, I enjoy your company. That wasn’t just me being nice. I really do enjoy being around you, Capt- ah, Jushiro.” That’s definitely going to take some getting used to.

“I’m glad to hear that, love.” He’s been calling you that for a while now. Love. Every time he says the little nickname it feels so soft, so sweet. At least, to you it does. His smile is brighter than the sun, it’s been so long since you’ve seen a smile like that you can’t help but smile too. The silence that falls is comfortable and light, the two of you enjoying the sunset over the pond. Dusk comes and goes, stars soar in the sky, a few lanterns cast a warm glow over the garden and over your faces. With your hand still in Jushiro’s, you can feel when he gives a small shiver at the breeze flowing over you.

“Here, I brought this just in case.” You pull your hand away to unfold the captain’s haori and drape it over his shoulders, right where it should be. 

“Thank you, love. But what about you?” You have to admit, it is a bit chilly. But you’ll be okay, with your shihakusho.

“I’ll be alright, don’t worry about me.” He chuckles as you get comfortable next to him again.

“Well that’s like asking me not to breathe. Here, come closer.” That’s definitely not a good idea. Your heart will surely burst from your chest. You’re already struggling as is, what with the hand holding and names. He doesn’t give you much choice though, hooking an arm around your waist and tugging you fully into his lap. With your legs draped over one side and your head cradled against his chest, he wraps the haori fully around the both of you and rests his chin atop your head. Even through your layers of shihakusho, all you can feel is the heat of one hand on your hip and the other resting on your mid thigh.

This is how you’ll die, surely, but you’ll never be happier.

“I can feel your heart racing. Are you alright?” You hold your breath at his observation, your face warming under his gaze. But holding your breath doesn’t change the fact that he’s absolutely right. Your heart feels like it might just burst. In all the years you’ve known the man, Captain Jushiro Ukitake has never once made such a move for bodily contact unless a life was in danger or unconscious. And you have never even once been anywhere near this close to him, not even when you were wiping the sweat from his brow in his especially pained moments. It feels like the breath you’re holding is punched from you, coming out quick and shuddering, when his hand cups your jaw and tilts your head up to look him in the eyes. His face is so close, his lips are right there…all you’d need to do is lean.

“You’re turning a concerning shade of crimson, my dear. Are you alright?” Shit. You need to answer, don’t you? But he’s still smiling…oh he’s teasing you!

“I’m fine! Just fine, thank you.” It’s a squeak, really. If you’re being honest it probably sounded to him like you were trying incredibly hard to keep from moving, and that included breathing. That hand slips from your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head even further back.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help the teasing. You’re just so cute, so pretty. I’m so glad I’ve been able to keep you around.” There’s no way this is real. It’s a dream, surely. You’re deep in sleep and your brain has gifted your heart a beautiful show. His hands release you, dropping far too quickly for your liking. He’s concerned now, it seems.

“Are you sure you’re alright? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He sounds so dejected, that gorgeous smile fading into a disappointed frown. You can’t control your own limbs as they react to what your heart wants, reaching for his haori and tugging hard so he’s no longer leaning away from you.

“No! I promise I’m not uncomfortable, I promise! I was just shocked, that’s all.” Mentally, you slap yourself for nearly begging the captain to stay wrapped around you. But you’ll be damned if you let this moment slip through your fingers. That smile returns, although slowly and reluctantly.

“You promise?” Nodding fervently, you lean into him and bury your head into his chest once more. Screw everything, whatever reservations you had about keeping your feelings hidden are being tossed out the window. When his arms wrap around you once more it’s all you can do to refrain from turning and kissing at what little is exposed of his chest.

“Good. Then, since we’re comfortable and alone, I have a bit of a confession to make.” A confession? What kind of confession could only be spoken while alone?

“When you were assigned to me it wasn’t random. I requested you specifically, not only because of your capabilities as a shinigami in my division, and not solely because of your short stint training under Captain Unohana. Not that your healing capabilities are anything to sniff at, of course,  you’re a wonderful healer! And you’re an amazing fighter, no doubt about that, and of course you-” he cuts himself off, his breath catching in his chest where your hand lay splayed in the center of it.

“Captain… Jushiro…I understand what you’re trying to say. You chose me for many reasons. Which of those reasons require a confession? And why are you suddenly so nervous?” You can see his adam's apple bob in his throat when he swallows down whatever words caught in his throat. His brows pinch together ever so slightly, he nibbles at his bottom lip for a moment. He really is nervous, you can see it clear as day. It’s not often he gets nervous, even in the face of opponents stronger than any he’s seen he’s a stone pillar.

“Yes, well. I requested you to be at my side because I’ve held very real and very strong feelings toward you, for a very long time now. You’re a beautiful woman, a strong fighter, a wonderful person. Having you so close these few months have only solidified these feelings. I just don’t see any point in hiding them any longer.” At that, you lean back and stare up at him, into those deep, dark eyes of his. He can’t seem to return the gaze, his eyes flitting around to avoid eye contact.

“Am I dreaming? Is this a dream?” He laughs at that, a hearty laugh that makes his chest bounce. His eyes finally fall on yours.

“No, love. This is definitely not a dream.” It doesn’t feel real. You reach over and pinch your arm as hard as you can, jumping and wincing the tiniest bit from the small shock of pain.

“I told you.” His nervous smile is infectious, you’re only able to return it as he leans close to you and rests his forehead against your own.

“Please tell me you feel the same. I don’t think I can take any more of this.” A giggle slips past your lips and you reach up to loop your arms around his neck.

“I’ve had a massive crush on you for decades.” That seems to click his resolve into place, and the next thing you know you’re being kissed silly by Jushiro Ukitake. The breath is stolen from your lungs, his fingers dig deep into your hip and thigh if only to get you closer. You hate that you need to breathe, need to part from the kiss far too soon for your liking. There’s a tension between you now, a string pulled taut waiting to be cut loose as your breaths mingle. He looks frustrated now, taking a moment to consider things you were not privy to.

“It’s late, we should be getting back now.” Of course, he was right. Which meant this was where you parted ways. You may be overseeing his health and spending days tending to his needs when he can’t do something himself, but he has ways of summoning you to him should an emergency arise, so you remain in your own quarters in the barracks at night. You’re shifting to stand, but he holds you tight to his chest and instead stands with you held in his arms.

“Jushiro! Please, don’t strain yourself! I’m perfectly capable of walking.” He only smiles that lopsided smile and in an instant you’re standing at the door to his quarters. A flash step at a time like this is insanity!

“Jushiro!” You gasp up at him as the door is opened, then closed as you’re carried beyond the threshold.

“I’m sorry for worrying you, love, but I just couldn’t wait. Now I want you to tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable, I will stop what I’m doing.” What? What in the world is he talking about? You gasp when you feel his lips peppering gentle kisses along your exposed neck, grabbing his haori for any kind of stability as you’re thrown mentally sideways. His lips carve a path down your jugular to your collarbone and along what little is bare of your shoulder. They almost burn, those heated kisses of his, and you can’t help but tremble at the euphoric feeling of his lips on your skin. You’re laid gently on his bed, still being lavished with kisses turning deeper and sharper, you’re sure there will be marks on your skin by morning. His fingers are hot where they brush against the fold of your shihakusho, gently tugging the fabric to reveal more of you to his hungry gaze. Your sash is untied and dropped to the floor, followed by a piece of his clothing and then a piece of yours. Disrobing was second priority, your chest heaving as he never left your skin cold for longer than necessary to remove a barrier of cloth.

When he finally feels he’s smothered you in enough kisses, you’re both completely bare before each other. He’s hovering over you, one knee beside your hip and both hands on either side of your head, his other leg extended to keep his foot planted firmly on the ground. Those eyes, half-lidded and pupils blown with lust, roam over your body like he’s committing every inch of your skin to memory. You do the same, taking in the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, the muscles in his arms and legs flexed as he holds himself above you. You can feel an impossible heat rise in your body when your eyes land on his already fully hard erection. You can’t help but gasp and avert your eyes. A tiny voice in your head reminds you that this is your captain, for crying out loud!

“The things you do to me, woman.” He holds your jaw in his palm and a searing kiss is shared between you, your lips melding perfectly together. His tongue licks at your bottom lip, and you let it tangle with your own. There’s no fight for dominance, just the push and pull of your bodies as your entire being tries to join with him. He’s almost lying on top of you, and in a moment of opportunity you hook a leg over his hip and twist your bodies, rolling over until he’s on his back beneath you and you’re straddling his stomach. He only looks shocked for a moment, and you don’t give him much more time to right himself before attacking him with another breath-stealing kiss. His hands, large and strong and insistent, can’t keep still on your body. They’re everywhere, your hips, breasts, thighs, squeezing and feeling everything he’s been wanting to feel. He’s gentle with his hands, softly holding a breast while his thumb brushes over your nipple, making you jolt and moan from the unexpected sensation. Happily, he swallows the sound only to make you produce it again and again, toying and tugging at every piece of you that he can reach.

“Jushiro, please.” You beg, feeling heat pool in your belly. You’re sure he can feel you leaking all over his stomach, your hips unable to keep still the longer he spends teasing your body. Gripping your hips, he begins to sit up and you can’t stop yourself from placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back down, almost warning him.

“Don’t overexert yourself for my sake.” Good gods that smile was going to kill you. In your moment of concern he pulls the same move you had, a hand gently cradling your neck and flipping the two of you over so he’s hovering over you once again. It’s all you can do to gasp as your balance is thrown. When you’re refocused, you’re peering up at a halo of white as his hair curtains over your shared space. Nothing else in this world matters, only the two of you exist right here, right now. Your breathing picks up as the hand bracing your neck travels down your chest, trailing your skin in a scorching path to your lower belly and even further to the mound of your sex. His eyes pierce yours, silently pleading for permission, and your nod of approval is met with his lithe fingers slipping between your legs and gathering all the slickness produced from your pussy. He can’t help himself, teasing his fingers along your entrance and brushing up against your clit to make your body jolt. The gasp you let out is music to his ears. But his pace is torturous for you, impatience getting the better of you when you reach down to grip his wrist. The unoccupied hand comes and gathers both your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“Oh, no, I'm not done yet. Be good for me and keep your hands to yourself, won't you?” The sentence is punctuated with a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth, before his fingers continue their leisurely pace. He studies your face as one finger slips into you easily, a second soon following and your breaths are coming hard and fast. He curls and pumps his fingers, searching for all the angles that have your back arching beautifully and your voice calling his name like a siren. Anything that makes your eyes flutter he tries to emulate once again. His third finger only fuels the fire in your blood, the stretch making your head spin from the sheer pleasure. It’s impossible to tell how long it’s been since you’d landed on the bed, being at the mercy of Jushiro’s lips and hands alone have left you breathless and aching. You’re left utterly empty when he removes his fingers from your heat, gazing in wonder at just how sloppy and wet you’d left them. Gossamer strings stretch and snap when he spreads his fingers apart, and in your embarrassment you shut your eyes and turn your head, unable to cover your face with your hands still pinned. A throaty moan snaps your eyes open, only to witness the most glorious sight you’ve ever witnessed. The hand covered in your wetness was now wrapped around his aching cock, Jushiro’s head hung low as he stroked himself slowly to relieve some of the ache. It doesn’t last long, the sight makes you moan and his attention is back on you.

“Still think this is a dream?” You shake your head no, unsure if you’re able to form a coherent sentence after the sight you’ve just had the privilege of viewing. 

“Good.” Your hands are released as he grabs your hips, twisting again so he’s leaning up against the headboard and a mountain of pillows, with you straddling his waist again. He’s holding you close, fingertips tracing nonsensical shapes into your hips.

“Are you ready for me? I’ll let you set the pace so I don’t hurt you.” You lean in close and kiss him breathless, before lining him up and sinking down onto him. The both of you moan into each other’s mouth, breathing heavily as you lower yourself slowly onto his cock, feeling every twitch as your pussy grips him tight. Finally fully seated, you’re both panting hard, a sheen of sweat decorating your bodies. His arms wrap around your waist, tugging you so your chest is against his and your arms wind around his shoulders, your hands burying themselves in his hair. A groan is muffled in your neck from the shift, your responding gasp quiet as a prayer in his ear. 

“I need to move, love. Are you ready?” 

“Yes, I’m ready Jushiro. Don't hold back.” With a loud moan his hips buck up, his feet plated on the bed to leverage against you. Your vision nearly whites out at the movement, breath stopping for an instant, his tip hitting a spot deep inside you too perfectly. He doesn’t stop but for a moment, tightening his grip on your waist and lifting you up off his hips only to drop you back down as he thrusts up, his pace steady and deep. Starbursts dot your vision with every thrust, every stroke of his dick inside you makes you shake and the pleasure is too much and not enough all at once. You’re hiccuping between guttural moans, his own groans matching yours beat for beat, your voices creating a sinful melody neither of you want to stop listening to.

Your equilibrium is thrown again when Jushiro lifts you higher, keeping himself seated deep in your pussy and maneuvering up onto his knees, gently laying you down on your back once more. The angle shift makes your body tremble and your cunt squeeze down on him, his groan deep and long as he adjusts. You’re given no more time to think before one of your legs is thrown over his shoulder and his full weight is being used to fuck into you relentlessly. Moans are punched from your lungs, fingers bruising your thigh in his steel grip and the other hand coming down to rub tight circles onto your puffy clit. You scream then, your back arching almost painfully as your orgasm hits you full force without warning or preamble. You hadn’t felt just how heavily it was building, pleasure distracting from pleasure, and your vision whites out while your legs shake and squeeze around Jushiro’s waist, pussy clenching down on his cock tight enough to slow his punishing pace.

“That’s it love -shit- such a good girl for me.” He continues dragging in and out of you, pushing through the tight grip of your walls and shoving you into overstimulation, your legs trying fruitlessly to close around his hips.

“J-jushiro please I- ah!” He stills deep inside you, the curve of his cock pushing up against a spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back and you see stars. Tears begin to fall from the sheer white-hot pleasure, you barely feel it as liquid splashes over Jushiro’s thighs and stomach, and his own orgasm is yanked out of him at the sight. His body curls over you, cock twitching as he cums deep inside you with a deep, throaty moan, every muscle in his body tensed from the strength of his release. When you’ve both ridden out your glorious highs, he drops your leg in favor of pulling your limp body close, lying back with you on top of his chest. He doesn’t remove his softening cock from you, it would be far too sensitive for either of you if he didn’t allow it to slip out on its own. You’re both panting heavily, sweat coating your bodies, sweltering heat being cooled by the night breeze as it filters through the window. His hands are gently soothing you, one on your head and the other caressing down your spine to ground you from your earth-shattering release. When you finally come to, filtering out of your daze, you turn your head and place a chaste kiss on Jushiro’s warm cheek.

“Is it too soon to say I love you?” Your body jolts when you feel his cock twitch hard, still buried deep inside you. His groan is low and almost pained, surely he’s just as sensitive as you are.

“I’ll take that as a no, then.” He doesn’t have the energy to laugh, so he settles for kissing you silly again.

“Just give it a few minutes.” It takes more than a few, and by the time you’re both cleaned up and comfortable under the sheets your bodies ache from the strenuous activities. His arms have found a home on your body, your head buried in the crook of his neck, peppering tiny kisses on his skin as he slowly massages your shoulders and neck. 

“Are you okay, Jushiro?” He hums in response, he’s never felt better in his life, he’s sure.

“I mean physically. Your health is my top priority, I’d hate to have strained your body tonight.” He chuckles then, energy beginning to return in a sleepy haze.

“I’m fine, my love. I’ve done much more, physically, while I was feeling a lot worse. This won’t put me out of commission. I promise.” You lift your head, leave a peck on his lips.

“You promise?” He nods, brushing a few strands of your hair out of your face. His returning kiss is deep, long and knocks the wind out of you. There’s no doubt in your mind you are in love with this man.

“I promise.” With that, you relax in his hold once more and allow your mind to fall into the throes of sleep. You think you hear a soft snore as your consciousness slips away, but that’s not something you need to think about.

BONUS:

You’re slowly pulled from your sleep by a steady, rhythmic thump. You know the sound, but your subconscious can’t quite place it. You’re only half awake when a voice filters through our brain, and it’s far too late when it finally dawns on you that it’s the voice of another captain, their footsteps approaching far too quickly for comfort.

“...missed you at the meeting so I’m just coming to check-” the door is only halfway open, and even by then Jushiro’s quick reflexes have a sheet covering both your naked bodies as you lay there stunned, your wide eyes meeting the slowly widening eyes of Captain Kyoraku of the 8th division. He blinks, eyes flitting between you and Jushiro, a knowing look crawling itself onto his face.

“Well well well, would you take a look at that. Congrats Jushiro, you’ve finally told her.” The other captain peers at you, and you bow your head in shy greeting.

“Good morning, Captain Kyoraku.” His smile is wide and joyful.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” his eyes transfer over to Jushiro, “The meeting wasn’t anything important, you’ve already been excused from it.” Jushiro sighs, both from relief and irritation.

“Thank you, Shunsui, but we are both very naked and I’d appreciate it if you closed the door.” The pink-clad captain chuckles and tips his hat down to cover his eyes.

“Of course. Have a good day, lovebirds.” The door shuts and his footsteps recede into the distance. You suppose those surprise visits from the Captain of squad 8 will be approached a little more cautiously from now on.

[lonewolflupe]

The Scomp Incident (One-Shot)

Surprise, here's another Echo ficlet! This probably has been done already, but it was stuck in my mind (Echo is currently stuck on my mind 24/7) so I wrote it anyway. Hope you'll enjoy it <3

Summary: whilst trying to comfort a struggling Echo, you unintentionally make things worse Rating: General Audiences Tags: struggling, insecurities, hurt/comfort, fluff, SFW Words: 1.375k Pairing: TBB Echo x gen!reader (with longer hair) Read this one-shot here on AO3

The last mission hadn't been too kind on the Marauder. On neither of you, but the ship had to be fixed before the lot of you could continue. The squad's injuries could just heal along the way.

Whilst Tech was in the cockpit realigning the navicomputer, Echo was outside, working repairs around the ship's hull. You were at his side, aiding him wherever you could.

“Could you hand me the fusioncutter?” he asked with a serious voice; his focus was on the parts in front of him, and he didn't avert his eyes. You silently handed him the tool and watched patiently over his shoulder as he used it to cut the damaged piece away from the panel.

The part, looking particularly fried, came loose, and Echo tossed it to the ground. “Alright, let's see..,” he mumbled. His forehead was wrinkled in a furrowed frown and his lips were pressed in a thin line. His nose and eyebrows would slightly twitch occasionally, his thoughts lost to you, as he was completely taken by the repairs.

A frustrated sigh when he struggled to replace the part. He needed one hand to put the replacing part into place, and another hand to tilt a different piece to make space. But the metal kept sliding from his scomp, he couldn't get a grip; it was no good, he needed two hands.

“Kriffing scomp..,” he muttered under his breath, and you could see the irritation on his face and a flicker of failure in his eyes. Time to step in; there was no need for this man to fret, because there was so much he was able to accomplish. He was the last person to question one's own inabilities.

You gently put a hand on his scomp arm and shot an understanding smile at him. “Here, let me help you,” you said softly. With a sigh, he reluctantly handed you the part and pointed to the space where it needed attachment. “I, er- thanks. Just wish I could do my own repairs,” he said softly; the disappointment in his voice wasn't lost on you.

Now that you held the part into place, Echo was finally able to start attaching it. He was using his scomp to get it right, before he could grab the micro flame welder to attach it for good. The focussed expression returned to his face, but you couldn't help but notice there was still some lingering frustration.

“You know you're allowed to ask for help, right?” you said softly to him. His gaze was still on his work in front of him, but you smiled at him anyway. “Didn't need to, before..,” he replied, his voice gruff and somewhat bitter. You shot him an apologetic look before you continued. “But you're part of a squad. We're supposed to look out for each other.”

He mumbled something unintelligible; you were right, but he didn't want to admit he wasn't able to do things the way he used to. Besides, everyone in the squad played their part and contributed; he couldn't keep them from their jobs because he wasn't able to accomplish his tasks.

“Echo-,” you started, leaning slightly sideways, ready to tell him he could always ask you for help, if he didn't want to bother his brothers. But you leaned too close; as Echo was using his scomp on the part in fullest concentration, your hair got caught in the rotating device.

You shot out a sharp cry and winced in pain; Echo stopped rotating his scomp as soon as he realised what was going on, but your hair was already tangled around it. “I-I-I’m so sorry!” he stammered, and you could feel his demeanour shift from bitter and frustrated towards torment and guilt. You had been trying to comfort him, to ease his mind, but you had managed the exact opposite.

He was blaming himself, of course; and the scomp he had already been cursing. “Echo, it's- argh- it's not your fault, I should've- ouch- been more careful,” you managed whilst attempting to free yourself, but it was no good. It felt like you were only making it worse; you could hardly see what you were doing.

The scalp below your tangled hair was throbbing from the violent tug it had endured. Twisting and turning, you ended up against Echo's chest. Although you felt a bit awkward, this ironically was the least painful position. You leaned your head against his chest plate in defeat.

Echo, not daring to move, cleared his throat. “I am so sorry for this, er- uncomfortable position,” he slowly said to you, and the slight quiver in his voice told you he felt even more awkward about it than you. You managed a chuckle before you continued. “There are worse places to get stuck,” you said jokingly, but really, you were telling the truth.

Since you were leaning against his chest, you could not only hear, but feel the heavy sigh that followed. “You're just saying that to make me feel better,” he replied, his voice a little less tense than before. “Everything I say is to make you feel better,” you smiled at him light-heartedly, but the smile was lost against his plastoid armour. But you managed to make him chuckle, which you could feel as well; a warm, rumbling feeling from below his chest plate.

“Am I such a mess?” he replied at last, whilst gently putting his hand on your scalp. He started massaging it very tenderly, trying to ease the pain his scomp had caused. You relaxed your muscles and your weight slightly shifted against him. “No, I would never describe you as a mess. I just like to see you feeling.. better,” you confessed after a moment of silence.

He chuckled again, and you could almost feel how his mood lifted at your words. At least you had managed that, by getting the both of you in this situation.

“Speaking about messes..,” he continued the conversation, slightly warily about his choice of words. “Is it that bad?” you winced gloomily. Carefully, Echo tilted your head to look you in the eyes, making sure to not hurt you any further in the process. “It ain't pretty,” he told you in all honesty, an apologetic smile adorning his face. You scoffed; despite the hurt, you were slightly amused by the whole incident.

“Guess I'll live like this now. Consider me your newest prosthetic,” you joked at him, and he chuckled softly. “I guess there are worse prosthetics to have,” he repeated your words, and your lips curled into a wide smile. At least he was amused by it now as well.

Your eyes skimmed your surroundings and you noticed the tools you had been using for the repairs. “Just get a tool to cut it off. But please, not the fusioncutter,” you swallowed, and before Echo could make a move, he looked down at you. “You sure?” he checked, and only after you nodded in affirmation, he reached for a vibro-cutter.

“Keep still,” he gently urged you, and you wrapped your arms around him to steady yourself. Very carefully, he let the cutter's blade slice through your hair, as close to his scomp as possible. It seemed like the both of you were holding your breath as he made the movement.

“All done,” he smiled at you at last. Reluctantly, you let go of him and stepped back, sliding your hand through your now freed hair. “I'm really sorry about that,” Echo shot at you, awkwardly scratching his neck. “Eh, don't be. It'll grow back,” you tried easing his mind, smiling at him in comfort.

He looked back at you, and for a moment, you thought you noticed a blush on his cheeks. “You know what?” he started, “It looks good on you.” You scoffed in amusement. “You're just saying that to make me feel better,” you shot his earlier words back at him, the smirk on your face giving away how amused you were with the whole situation.

He shook his head whilst laughing, and the sound warmed your heart. In the end, you had managed to make him feel better; it had only needed an incident with his scomp and the loss of some hair.

Echo taglist: @welcometo79s @covert1ntrovert

[selfindulgentpixies]

Part one

Okay here's part two for my Suguru x reader fic i did earlier. It's going to evolve into a Satoru x reader x Suguru fic. This one admittedly has ended up feeling very uh meandering I guess? I'm trying to establish the dynamic between the three of them

Important notes: GN!reader, reader is referred to with chan attached to their name, reader is a year younger than Suguru and Satoru. Suguru and Satoru are absolute menaces. Reader's cursed technique is mentioned. Said CT involves absorbing curses through their hands and converting them into weapons though it's not super important to to this chapter.

Fun fact: the japanese school year apparently begins in in april! So this takes place a bit before hidden inventory shortly after Suguru and Satoru start their second year.

Edit: I've made some revisions to this chapter to bring it up to my current standards! Nothing big just things that make it flow better and some extra details.

Chapter 2: Movie night

Things are different after the mission with Geto, he's softer with you than he’d been in the past. Before the mission he'd almost seemed a little resentful of you behind his smile though you couldn't figure out why. It didn't feel like that now. You aren't dumb, you can pinpoint the moment things felt like they'd begun to shift with him. When he'd held your arm after you absorbed that curse, the way his eyes had looked over darkly bruising flesh with the ink black lines crawling up your arm like an infection. When he'd asked if it was always like this you thought you'd find pity in his dark gaze when you raised your eyes to his, instead you saw something you weren't expecting. Understanding.

You were admittedly thrown off balance by this, plastering what you hoped was a reassuring smile on your face as you answered him. You doubted you fooled his keen eyes as you tried to disguise your discomfort but he didn't push you or even ask if it hurt. Probably because he thought the question would be pointless. Only an idiot wouldn't have been able to see you were in pain. Instead he'd gently examined the limb, his fingers sliding over your arm before letting go when he was satisfied.

He'd also begun going out of his way since that day to help you train as well, though you're not sure how much getting tossed around the training field like a rag doll is helping you. You've gotten very good at breaking your falls. You can at least say that. He said you were improving but you're not sure how true that is, though it probably should have tipped you off he was being honest when Gojo who was sitting on the sidelines more often than not to watch didn't interject to say otherwise. Especially since he was more than willing to point out where you had messed up. Perhaps you just hadn't known them long enough to realize that Geto was soft for you and Gojo was becoming so in turn. Again it's kind of hard to realize someone is soft for you when they regularly send you flying like you weigh nothing. Both older boys could appreciate that you kept dusting yourself off and getting right back to it though. 

These last few weeks play back in your mind on repeat. Especially how gently he'd held your arm on that mission and the look in his eyes. You're broken from these thoughts when you notice the three second years making their way back to the dorms, Shoko splitting off from the boys presumably to head toward her own dorm. Probably to get cleaned up after a mission if you had to guess. You watch Geto and Gojo, watch as their hands brush against each other as they walk. They start to lean in close to each other and you watch as Gojo brushes his lips over Geto’s ear. You’ve apparently been caught staring though as suddenly Gojo is unmistakably looking directly at you as you noisily watch the intimate moment playing out between the older boys. Gojo’s sudden shift in attention of course causes Geto to look toward your window as well.

You let out a squeak and instead of maybe rolling with it and just waving or something to make yourself not seem nosy you flail and pull your curtain closed. "Stupid stupid stupid,” you grumble to yourself feeling your ears burn.

Down below you don’t see the two older boys share knowing and amused grins. You’re also far too consumed by your own embarrassment at having been caught staring at their intimate moment to hear their laughter as you internally berate yourself.

You also don't hear the ensuing conversation.

You get maybe a half hour of peace after that, able to mostly stop cringing at yourself and get back to studying. The peace is shattered when there's a knock on your door. You jolt in your seat, taken off guard since you hadn't expected anyone to stop by your room this late in the day. You turn in your chair and give the door a questioning look, unsure if you want to be bothered. Then he speaks. "Oi, ___-chan, come on don't ignore me." It's Gojo. All your embarrassment at being caught staring earlier floods back.

Reluctantly you get up and open your door a little to stare up at the older boy. He's got his arms full of snacks and he's grinning down at you, eyes obscured by those dark glasses he always wears. "I was almost worried you went to bed early. Come on, we don't want to keep the others waiting."

If an expression could be a question mark that's what your face was now. "Who's waiting and why?"

"You'll see it's a surprise~" he sing songs.

"Senpai, I" You're cut off when he adjusts his hold on the snacks and reaches out to grab your arm, tugging you out of your room since you were apparently taking too long to convince.

You flail, taken off balance and your voice involuntarily raises an octave "Gojo-senpai i-i'm not dressed to go anywhere i'm in my pajamas!"

"Pajamas are perfect for this, don't worry about it." He ignores your sputtering and goes to close your door.

"At least let me grab my phone." You huff.

He glances down at you with a triumphant smile knowing he's gotten his way. He opens your door fully and gestures with a flourish for you to go ahead. You contemplate slamming the door behind you but felt wrong being so disrespectful to an upperclassman, especially as your mind so helpfully reminded you of how you'd been caught rudely staring at him and Geto-senpai only half an hour ago.

You follow Gojo closely, having to take three steps for every one of his. "So you're really not gonna tell me?"

"Stop being impatient, you'll literally see the surprise in less than two minutes."

You pout but go quiet.

He wasn't wrong, soon enough you're standing in front of another dorm room. "Suguru, Shoko, I got the snacks and grabbed ___ along the way. "

You blink a little owlishly, realizing the dorm room you're at is likely Geto's. It's neat, at least by teenage boy standards. There's a biggish bean bag couch set up at the end of the bed facing a tv that's been set up with what looks like a shiny new dvd player along with several stacks of dvd's. Shoko and Geto are both by an open window, blowing smoke outside.

Shoko smiles warmly. "Ahh glad you could make it, ___-chan. When they told me they were inviting you too I wasn't sure you'd actually come."

You glance away for a moment and play with the hem of your sleep shirt. "Gojo-senpai was very... insistent." 

Geto laughs lowly. "Satoru always is once he's decided something."

Your eyes are drawn toward the dark haired boy as he stubs out his cigarette and tosses it into the ashtray. He's smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. You can't help but take in how his hair is down and wet, clinging to his neck. It makes your mouth feel dry in a way you're not really familiar with. Gojo nudges you into the room before going to set out the snacks.

For some reason the idea that your three senpai had decided to invite you to their movie night left you feeling intimidated. "Is uh... anyone else gonna show up?" you ask hoping you don't sound nervous. "Nope-” Gojo pops the ‘P’, ”just the four of us," he throws over his shoulder at you as he continues his task. Your stomach swoops a little. At least Shoko is here otherwise you're pretty sure you would have run away. Being alone in such a casual setting with Gojo and Geto would have been overwhelming right now.

You finally move to go sit on the far end of the beanbag couch only to be jerked toward the middle of it by Gojo as he sits on your left, before you can protest or move back Geto sits on the right side of you, effectively trapping you between the two of them unless you wanted to outright get up and find a different spot to sit, though your options would be the literal floor or Geto's bed since Shoko seems to have claimed Geto's desk chair.

Shoko catches you looking her way and she eyes her peers suspiciously. "___, we can switch places if you'd like." She states already starting to stand. You scoot just slightly forward ready to accept only to feel a strong hand pull back on your shoulder and then feel Suguru's arm pressing along the back of your shoulder's once you've been pulled back to sit snugly in the honestly too small bean bag couch with the two long limbed boys.

"Aww they're fine right here aren't you, ___?" Geto asks as he tilts his head at you, a smile curling his lips and pretty brown eyes turning into crescents.

You're pretty sure your brain is as fried as it could ever be in that moment only for it to get even worse when Gojo's arm presses against Geto's and he too somehow manages to get further into your personal space. "Yeah this is the best place to watch movies from," Gojo's breath  fans over your ear and you swear you can feel the barest hint of his lips brush the skin there.

Your face is so hot that you're surprised you haven't burst into flames and your heart is so rabbit quick you’re wondering how it hasn’t burst out of your chest. You’ve never been subjected to attention like this before. Especially not by a pair of pretty boys like your senpai.

Shoko breaks the moment by tossing two precisely aimed pillows into the faces of the two biggest menaces she knows. "If the two of you don't stop that I'll take ___-chan with me and go have a movie night just the two of us." There’s a clear threat in her voice and they know she means it.

Both boys sputter at the pillows in their faces before grumbling. Geto tosses his on the ground while Gojo holds his on his lap with a pout, he then sticks his tongue out at her. "You're no fun."

"And you're going to send ___ running if you keep it up," She shoots back and goes over to the dvd player to pick a movie. Neither Gojo nor Geto had taken the time to put one in, more focused on getting you trapped between them.

After selecting a movie and putting it in she glances back at you. "So would you like to trade seats?" You keep your eyes firmly on her but you can swear you can feel the two boys looking at you. You don't fully trust your voice but squeak out a small reply anyway. "Y-yeah actually." there was no way you were gonna be able to focus on the movie if they kept doing whatever it was they were doing. You feel Geto squeeze your shoulder briefly before letting go and both boys scoot slightly to allow you the minimal space needed to get up from the squishy death trap that is the bean bag couch. Shoko ends up helping you up before plopping herself in between menace one and two who are both definitely pouting.

The desk chair gives you the space needed to get your bearings for the first time since Gojo showed up at your door. Was this all some weird game to get back at you for staring at them from your window? As the movie plays you're sure you can feel them glancing your way but try to ignore it. Ignore it until Gojo tosses a candy bar directly into your lap startling you during a tense scene and making you squeak. When you realize what had touched you was a candy bar and not a serial killer you look over toward the three on the couch to catch Gojo flashing a grin your way. Geto reaches over shoko to playfully shove his shoulder.

Even now in the mostly dark room you can see it's your favorite. Which probably isn't that strange given that you normally eat one after training with Geto, and since one boy was never far from the other Gojo probably just picked up on it. That or it's all coincidence and your nerves from the evening thus far are making you over analyze a chocolate bar.

You're not sure when you dozed off in the uncomfortable chair but when you're woken up it's by Gojo poking you in the cheek and there are credits rolling on screen. He goes to poke your cheek again but you pull back with a slurred " 'm awake..." You blink blearily at the room, trying to get your brain to catch up with the situation. Gojo pokes you again deliberately on the nose this time. Without thinking and with sleepy irritation overriding all good sense you bite at him, surprising you both when you actually manage to catch his finger.

You immediately release his finger that now has a neat little ring of your teeth dented into it.

"You bit me! What the hell!?"

Embarrassed you yell back, "I only bit you because you kept shoving your finger in my face!"

Distantly through your embarrassment you register Geto laughing at the two of you. Honestly more at Gojo than you though you don’t realize that.

"Will you all shut up," an angry lump on the beanbag couch growls out. You realize it's Shoko. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Ah but Shoko, if you want to sleep you can go back to your own room. Satoru and I aren't going to bed for a while yet." Geto's tone is light as he sits up more in bed, drawing your gaze. From what you can gather it seems both he and Gojo must have moved to the bed at some point during the movie.

 It's while you're occupied with this thought that the white haired menace grabs both arms of the chair you're sitting in. You blink. "Wha-" He spins the chair and you let out a little yell. When he finally stops the chair you slide out of it dazed. The world is still spinning a little. "W-what was that for..?"

"For biting me of course."

"Satoru, don't pick on them too much, you were asking for a reaction poking them like that," Geto admonishes him, though even dazed as you are you can hear the amusement in his voice.

There's an annoyed grunt from the beanbag couch and the lump that is Shoko wrapped in a blanket stands up and heads for the door after tossing the blanket over Gojo. "Guess I will go back to my own room if the three of you can't be quiet."

From your spot you wonder what you did to get lumped in with the two of them.

Gojo pulls the blanket off his head and sticks his tongue out at Geto. "Yeah yeah." Standing he grabs your arm unprompted to pull you off the floor and you stumble into him because the world is still spinning a little from how fast he spun the chair.

You push most of the way off his chest in embarrassment though your hands remain to keep you steady as the world slows back down. You look up at him from beneath your lashes with an unintentional pout and mumble out an apology.

"Oh and what are you sorry for?" He tilts his head to the side and it suddenly strikes you that in the mostly dark room he'd removed his glasses. The full force of his pretty eyes focused directly on you. That is until Geto Speaks up. "That's enough teasing, Satoru." He sits up fully in the bed crossing his legs as he turns his full attention to you.

Geto blessedly gives you an out. "___-chan, do you want to stay with us and watch another movie or do you think you're done?" Honestly you think you could hug him for giving you a clear choice. The thought makes your cheeks flush.

"uh... I should probably go back to my room, it's late yeah? I have to be up early to train." Your hands drop from Gojo's chest now that the world has stopped spinning.

The raven haired boy nods. "I'll walk you back to your room then."

"You don't gotta do that, senpai, i don't even have to go outside."

"I know, but I want to." He smiles at you so prettily. 

Geto is bounced on the bed when Gojo flops down on the mattress.

You shift a little looking between the two of them for a moment. "Alright then.." your hand comes up to rub the back of your neck.

With that Geto is out of bed and walking you through the short halls to your room.

"Thanks for inviting me to watch movies with you guys tonight, or was that just Gojo-senpai?"

He hums. "No we both wanted you to join."

"Can I ask why?"

"What do you mean why?" He raises an eyebrow as he peers down at you. "We like your company, that's reason enough." You were skeptical and your expression must have told him as much as he sighs. "Do you think I spend my time between missions and classes training someone whose company I don't like? And do you think Satoru would stick around to add input if he didn't? Our time is too valuable for that."

"O-oh," you utter lamely before swallowing and speaking again. "Well, thank you, Geto-senpai." You weren't exactly used to people wanting your company. Before Jujutsu tech you were often viewed as being strange by your peers.

He messes up your hair. "Ack!" and when you glance up at him even while his hand is still on your head the smile he's giving you makes your heart thunder in your chest.

"You should call me Suguru."

"Isn't that a bit rude though? You're older than me and-"

"It's not rude if I've told you you can."

You're quiet for a moment as you reach your dorm room. He lets you be, giving you time to process your conversation. He leans against the wall by your door. "Well uh.. thank you again Ge- Suguru-senpai. It was nice at least until I fell asleep." You rock back on your heels before opening your bedroom door.

"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow then for training?"

You nod eagerly. "Yeah I'll see you then. Goodnight." You give him a little wave.

He bids you goodnight as well and goes to return to his room, likely to watch more movies with Gojo if you had to guess. After carefully closing the door you take a deep breath before throwing yourself onto your bed to squeal into your pillow and flail your legs to get out all your feelings from the night, especially the exchange you'd just had with Suguru.

__

Back in Suguru's room you miss when he sits in the desk chair Gojo had aggressively spun you in earlier and how it breaks dramatically beneath him. What you don’t  miss is Gojo's cackling in the hall and the sounds of thudding footsteps outside your room as Suguru chases him. When you peek out your door into the hall to see what's going on they're already long gone.

AHHHH part 2 is officially finished! I hope everyone enjoys it. This is the longest thing i've written i a long while. Keep an eye out for part 3. Upcoming parts will have spoilers for season 2 and the manga.

Tag list! @icy-spicy @strawberrystepmom @nanamikentoseyebags @gojoest

Please let me know if you like it! I put a lot of work into this so far.

Part 3

[sarcasstic-jpmvr]

Ok headcanon time:

Bucky Barnes didn‘t go to cryo in Wakanda

Instead, he spent it at home, in New York, at Tony‘s Tower (I refuse to call the the Avengers’ Tower, deal with it)

He has Steve close by, and a special reinforced room Tony built for him specifically

He‘s exactly where he belongs

One minor issue, though:

He is known to go to sleep and wake up as the Winter Soldier, going on little killing-sprees (nothing ever truly happened, given that we‘re talking about him living with the Avengers)

Anyways, we‘re talking about Bucky having to be physically restrained and put in his room, locked behind a vibranium door with a lock only two people can open from the outside: Tony and Steve

One night, Tony is up late, clearly on one of his project-binges, bless his hyperfocused soul

He goes to the kitchen to get more coffee (mind you, it‘s like, 3 a.m.)

He passes Bucky‘s room, and heres him shouting stuff in Russian and slamming his whole weight against the walls of his room

Being the idiot kind-hearted person that he is, he pauses his midnight-coffee-run and goes to Bucky‘s door

„F.R.I.D.A.Y, gimme the video feed of the room“

He sees what‘s going on inside the room, Bucky‘s clearly not Bucky, and he decides to gently knock on the door while still looking at the video feed

„Hey Buckaroo, are you alright in there?“

The Winter Soldier pauses, and looks straight in the camera

„Mission incomplete, request immediate assistance.“

Tony‘s mildly upset by the ice-cold tone of voice and the sharp blue eyes, but he decides to just roll with it

„Alright. Soldat, I am giving you a new mission.“

„Listening.“

„Your new mission is to go lay down on the bed to your right, and sleep.“

The Winter Soldier is obviously confused

Like, honestly, how could Sir even say that??????

„Sir?“

„You heard me right. Go to sleep.“

So that‘s exactly what he does

Obviously Tony tells Steve what happened

And it sort of becomes this little ritual

Every single time Bucky falls asleep, either Tony or Steve go to his door, and when the Winter Soldier wakes up, they give him the mission to go to sleep

Tony programmed F.R.I.D.A.Y to do it, and it didn‘t work

So they continue their nightly ritual

Bucky doesn’t know they do it, he just notices that he wakes up in the morning and he isn‘t sore for once

One night, Steve and Tony go to Bucky‘s door at the same time, and Tony, being the sleep-deprived little munchkin he is, confesses having feelings for Bucky and Steve

He doesn‘t realise he did it, Steve just stands there flabbergasted while Tony is barely able to stay awake, eventually falling asleep and toppling over into Steve‘s arms

Steve just brings him to bed and contemplates a whole lot about his own new feelings for Tony and his own old feelings for Bucky

Tony wakes up the next day with no recollection of what happened thaz night and just goes on about his day, confused when he doesn‘t see Steve in his lab sketching

Meanwhile, Steve is having the talk with Bucky, where Bucky realises that he, too, feels something for the mechanic

They decide the best course of action is to just straight up go to Tony and tell him they want to be with him

Being the ”40 gentlemen they are they want to court him the proper way

So they go on and do that, Tony obviously being very happy about the fact that not one but two of his crushes like him back

However, as the night falls, they forget one teensy tiny thing

Murder-kitten Winter Soldier who awakens as the night falls

Tony and Steve wake up to their third tossing and turning and grunting in his sleep, obviously fighting an inner battle with himself

They look at each other, unsure what to do, and then just decide to envelop Bucky in their arms

Steve is plastered against Bucky‘s back, spooning-style, while Tony just straight up octopus-latches himself to Bucky‘s front, squashing his face in Bucky’s chest (at this point Steve is carrying the weight of a super-soldier and a 5ft9 human)

Bucky twitches a few more times, before his pinched expression smoothens and his tense muscles relax

They all fall asleep peacefully

And that‘s the first time since the return of James Buchanan Barnes that he goes to sleep and wakes up as himself

[woahjo]

Hi cal! Hope you don’t mind that I followed you over from your old blog. If you’re still accepting drabbles, how about something fluffy for erwin smith? Maybe how he spends a rare morning off with his lover? Just a thought… ^^

holds u in my hands. of course i don't mind! thank you for coming over here!! also sobs quietly, fluff is my dearly beloved lately, i'd love to write this.

cw: it's literally just fluff, maybe some SLIGHT references to future angst, but it's just fluff, some mentions of titans

erwin is very dual-faced. you see it when he leaves in the early mornings for a mission or strategizing, when he readies himself in the vanity in his bedroom, fastening his bolo tie when he thinks you aren't looking. there's a look in his eyes. it's one you recognize. as a cadet, it scared you.

today, he doesn't have to go anywhere, but he rises with the dawn regardless. erwin can't really help it, rolling onto his stomach and tossing his arm over you. it wakes you gently, the weight of it pressing against your chest. you squeeze his bicep and then run your fingers along his upper arm.

"good morning," he mumbles, shifting to pull you up against him.

"hi," you say softly, soaking in the heat from his bare chest.

you search his face for something, unsure of what exactly you're looking for. that familiar expression from the mirror is gone, hardness and determination replaced by something softer. erwin smiles gently at you, studying your face before he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

"tea?" he asks quietly and you nod, watching as he stands up and moves over to the stove and kettle on the other side of the room.

erwin uses his hand to prepare the hot drink with his back is to you as he lights the burner and sets the metal pot down with a soft clink. you watch the muscle in his bare back move, flexing and shifting as he quietly moves about a rare, slow morning routine.

you smile as he walks the tea over to you with a slightly shaky hand, taking the mug from him with a grateful smile before he goes back with his own. then, he comes and sits down again with you on the bed, sipping the liquid.

on mornings like this, you think that erwin may have been built for a different kind of life. you imagine that, in a better world, he's a doting husband with time enough to devote to his partner. he seems to be, at his core, a family sort of man who may have appreciated a quiet life. then again, what sort of family man makes the choices that he does?

"what are you thinking about?" erwin says, setting his mug down in his lap and lightly touching the side of your face.

"the world when all of this is over," you say, tilting your head at him.

erwin's eyes harden for a moment before they go soft again and he steadies the cup in his lap as he leans forward to kiss you.

"that's a nice daydream," he mumbles against your mouth.

"mmm," you hum, "i think so too."

you can't blame his decisions. you've seen what he has, the monstrousness of titans. you've felt the ice cold fear as you stare one down, fingers trembling around the switches of your odm gear. you can't blame him, but a part of you can't accept it either.

you suppose that's what makes mornings like this so deeply precious. the air of false pretense. of a normalcy that hardly exists since the appearance of the beast titan.

"think we should buy a house together?" erwin says with small smile, setting his mug down on the nightstand and raising his arm for you to crawl under it.

"i dunno," you say. "depends where."

"maybe somewhere with farmland," he muses. "away from the city and the barracks."

"like you'd ever want to be so far from the corps," you snort with a laugh.

"i might," he says seriously. "if we actually do this."

"you mean solve and fix it?"

erwin nods, smiling to himself as he imagines a life with you.

"i think you might like a dog," he says, raising an eyebrow.

"we could get a dog now," you respond with a laugh, drumming your fingers against his chest.

"hange already sort of fills that role for me," erwin snorts. "they're high maintenance."

you laugh and erwin follows, thinking fondly of your overeager and somewhat twisted mutual friend.

there's a moment of silence where you both soak in the morning. sunlight pours into the windows, illuminating the wooden chamber and all of its precious amenities afforded to the commander of the survey corps. mornings like these are so rare, rarer still with the turmoil, and it has you both thinking in romantic hypotheticals.

"i love you," he says quietly, his rich baritone voice low next to your ear.

you tilt your head to look at him, holding mug of tea on his chest, cooled enough now to be warm on his skin.

"i love you too," you answer with a gentle smile.

erwin leans down and kisses you again, slower this time, like he's tasting you. his sleep swollen lips move languidly against yours and his thick eyebrows are relaxed as he lets himself breathe you in. you sigh, just pleased enough to be here with him now. plenty of time to be greedy later.

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel by the Wings - TWENTY ONE

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy, Bradley has PTSD nightmares, nausea

Series Masterlist // Mobile Series Masterlist

Eject. Rooster, eject! Eject!

Maverick’s screams echoed through his head as he woke up. Bradley quickly sat up, his chest heaving with frantic breaths as he took in his surroundings. Right. Clean lines, modern furniture, and the heavy arm falling over his waist reminded him exactly where he was. Hangman’s bed.

He gingerly slipped out from under Jake’s arm and climbed off the bed. Bradley glanced back to check that neither you nor Jake woke up from his movement and he was relieved to find you curled up on your side, your face pressed into Jake’s chest while the blond breathed in and out the soft, deep breaths of sleep. Bradley had been on your other side with Jake’s arm spread across your hips and over Bradley’s waist, but now your back was exposed. He quickly drew a blanket from the edge of the bed up and over your shoulders before he stepped out of the bedroom and made his way to the kitchen.

He splashed ice cold water on his face and then gripped the edge of the sink to gather his bearings. This was the first time the memory of the flight had woken him up. His heart was racing and he clenched his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering against each other. His hands were shaking. Fuck, he couldn’t fly a plane if his hands shook.

What if Hangman hadn’t shown up? What if he hadn’t defied orders, something he learned later from Tasha, and flew to save their asses? He kept thinking about reaching up, clasping onto those ejection straps, and nothing happening. Isn’t that how his father died? A problem that happened when he was ejecting?

God. Bradley ran his hand down his face and then bowed over the sink, the distinct urge to throw up growing in his stomach as he thought about how different everything could be if it weren’t for the cocky blond currently asleep in the room down the hall.

“Bear?” Your voice caught his attention and he raised his head to see you standing at the edge of the kitchen, rocking back and forth tentatively from the balls of your feet to your heels. Sleep clouded your eyes, but worry tinged the soft gaze you held.

“Sorry for waking you,” he croaked out. You shook your head and stepped closer. The blanket he had tossed over you was curled around your shoulders and you gripped the edges of it like it was some kind of lifeline. It was cold in Hangman’s place, courtesy of the rain that had bathed the San Diego area in abnormally chilly weather, and Bradley instinctively tugged the blanket closer around your shoulders before he nuzzled his cheek against your hair.

“What’s wrong?” you asked quietly.

“Nothing, sweetheart. Just a bad dream.” He pulled away so you could see his eyes and you reached up to touch his cheek gently.

“You’re crying,” you observed. He started, not realizing that tears had begun to trace their way down his skin, but you merely swept away the salty tracks and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“What happened out there, baby?” The endearment struck him deep in his chest and warmed him like you had ignited a fire in his soul at the tender whisper of that word.

“Classified,” he explained. “It’s not something you should worry about.”

“But it’s hurting you.”

It was, wasn’t it? The Daggers were on leave for a month until new assignments were released following their performance on this mission. How the fuck would he feel when he got back into a plane? Could he still fly even with the constant fear of hearing the wail of tone echoing in his ears?

“Yeah,” he admitted softly. The military wasn’t usually in the business of accepting weakness, but there was something about the pain in your eyes that made him want to bare his soul to you. Pain that his grief placed there.

He waited for you to step away and tell him to straighten up, get it together, and quit his fucking tears, but you surprised him. Your hand curled around his own and you lifted his hands to your lips before delicately laying a kiss to his palms. Your tender kisses met his shoulder next, with him leaning down so you could reach his face at his tall height, then his jaw, and cheeks, eyelids, nose, and finally his forehead. Your hands cupped his cheeks and your thumbs stroked along the rough, sun-kissed skin of his face.

“Better?” you whispered against his jaw. His teeth stopped gnashing together and his hands settled, coming up to rest on your hips as his thumb rubbed small circles against your stomach.

“Yeah.” Again, the truth spilled out of him before he could stop it. Like a kiss to a bloodied knee, your touch stitched up the open wound of his heart.

“Ready for bed?” He shook his head at your question and you didn’t judge him for a moment. Instead, you tugged him over to the living room and pushed him back so he landed on the couch among the soft pillows. You tossed him the remote and promptly climbed onto the couch next to him, your side pressed flush against his and your face resting in the crook of his neck.

“Put on something mindless,” you advised as he opened Jake’s Netflix account. Great British Bake-Off, perfect. Bradley lowered the volume to a barely-there whisper and settled into the couch, the blanket you carried around spread over him and you.

He didn’t remember falling back asleep.

When he woke up, the room was starting to brighten with the rising sun and you were shifting next to him. A hand touched his curls and he pushed up into the gentle touch before opening his eyes and seeing Jake crouched in front of them.

“Morning, chicken,” the blond hummed. He didn’t push, didn’t question, and didn’t seem to care that he had woken up to an empty bed. Instead, he merely leaned forward and tucked the blanket closer around the two of you before laying a kiss on your temple and Bradley’s curls.

“How does waffles sound for breakfast?”

“With chocolate chips,” your sleepy voice supplied and Jake huffed out a laugh.

“I like my balls where they are so of course I’m adding chocolate chips.”

You snuggled closer to Bradley, your soft breaths bathing across his shoulder and the steady thud of your heart resounding against his bicep. “You’re such an ass, Tex.”

“But it’s a great ass.”

“Mmm, bring me waffles and then we can talk.”

Bradley’s own heart seemed to skip a beat at the blinding grin Jake sent his way. He wasn’t up in the sky with fifth generation fighters on his tail. He was here and now, warm with the touch of your body and the care you and Jake showed him. He was alive and real. He was safe.

You sniffed against his neck and he tilted his head down to study you and the way you curled into him, your body fully settled against his side as if you knew he would place himself between you and the world. You ran your nose up and down the column of his throat and settled a gentle kiss against his pulse before you inhaled deeply.

“Are you smelling me?” he chuckled.

“The coffee brewing is making my stomach feel like shit,” you muttered. “But you smell good. Pheromones or something.”

“Nauseous?” He brushed a hand over your back as you nodded against his shoulder. Bradley gathered you closer and kept you pressed against his skin. Hey, if he put the poppy seed inside of you, he might as well help where he can.

“Penny said it usually lasts until the second trimester but that’s two months away.”

Bradley let his hand rest on your side and he looked down at the tiny swelling of your stomach. “Hey, be nice to your mom. She has to be able to eat to make sure you grow right.”

You stilled against him and Bradley directed his attention towards you. A glassy sheen covered your eyes and you blinked away the brewing tears. Curse your overactive hormones.

“Angel,” he murmured.

“I’m okay. I just…I’m going to be a mom. Some kid is going to call me mom and hearing you say that solidified it.” The minute the words came out of your mouth, you blanched and started to wiggle away from him.

“Fighting a losing battle here, Bradshaw,” you snapped and he quickly helped you up and off of the couch. Bradley was quick to follow you as you beelined for the bathroom.

“Water!” he yelled to Jake. “And turn the damn Keurig off.”

And so it began.

Tag List: @mizzzpink​ @xoxabs88xox​ @dreaminglandsworld​ @khaylin27​ @loveforaugust​ @phoenixssugarbaby​ @atarmychick007​ @mak-32​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @krismdavis​ @emma8895eb​ @startrekfangirl​ @hangmandruigandmav​ @lunamoonbby​ @startrekfangirl2233​

[gretavanlace]

Here, have a fluffy little Josh blurb inspired by those adorable grocery store pics. No warnings needed. Mini-fluff by gretavanlace?! This may never happen again. Back to our regularly scheduled smut programming later on tonight 💖

“Do you think they have one of those lobster tanks here?” Josh asks, scanning the items lining the shelves as he strolls by. “You know, the ones where they’re alive and you pick the one you want?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, plucking up a bottle of soy sauce. “Why?”

He scrunches his nose, openly disgusted with your choice. “Don’t get that kind.” He shakes his head and replaces the bottle in the cart with the most expensive offered, instead. “Fuckin’ store brands…”

“You’re a food and beverage snob.” You sigh, more than used to his antics by now. “But, back to before.”

“Hmm?”

He’s moved onto something new in his scattered head, so you steer him back on course gently. “The lobsters?”

“Oh,” recollection illuminates his face, raising his eyebrows adorably. “I just thought we could buy them all. You know, set them free.”

His shoulders rise and fall with a little shrug, cheeks coloring pink when he decides it’s a dumb idea after all. “Where though?” He asks himself aloud. “Not an ocean in sight.”

“We could drive.” You offer with a soft hand on his back, both of you ambling towards the bakery in search of bagels. “Get a cooler. Fill it with water to keep them comfy along the way. Give them names. Toss them into the sea and wave them off. Little rescue mission.”

“Make love in the sand after, to celebrate their freedom.” He adds, bumping his hip against your own.

“Josh!” You hiss playfully, glancing around to see if anyone has overheard.

“What?” He questions a bit louder, pretending to misunderstand. “Did you not hear me?” Louder still. “I said we could roll around in the sand and fu—“

You twist a swift pinch into his stomach through the soft cotton of his shirt. “Joshua Michael, I will leave you in this grocery store. I swear to god, I will.”

Your favorite little giggle is his only response as he tosses a bag of blueberry bagels in next to his uppity soy sauce.

“Do we have cream cheese?” Your gaze flutters towards the ceiling, trying to conjure up the contents of your fridge.

“Just get some.” He’s pushing on now, oblivious to the squeaking, wobbling, mess of a wheel that has been grating on your nerves since he yanked the cart free of its brothers near the entrance. “‘Cause if you don’t, and we’re out, you’ll pout.”

You lose yourselves in the tea aisle for a long stretch. Pointing out different flavors and blends, laughing when he gets animatedly excited by a brand that offers its tea in pyramid-shaped bags rather than the traditional square.

Box after box is added to your spoils until you both begin to wonder where the hell you’re going to store it all.

“We need a bigger place.” He quips, off-handedly. “When we buy a house, I want one of those enormous walk-in pantries.”

Suddenly, and unexpectedly, tears are threatening to spill over your cheeks. He notices right away and stops in his tracks. “What’s wrong, baby? Don’t cry.” His fingers circle around your wrist warmly to tug your hand to his chest. “What is it?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” you duck your head to avoid any prying eyes and brush the tears away. “You think about things like that? With me?”

He tilts his head in confusion, “Like what? Buying a house?”

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling incredibly on display.

“Yeah.” He parrots. “I do. I think about all of those things with you. A house, getting married, babies…don’t you?”

“Yeah.” There’s that word again. You could swear you were both more eloquent at the beginning of this shopping excursion. “Yeah, I think about those things.”

“Things like having a big ass pantry?” He grins, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

The gesture, so mundane and small, makes your heart flutter right there next to an end cap display of tortilla chips. How domestic and strange.

It seems like it should feel absurd, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You feel safe. Intimately warm and protected…like the two of you are all alone even whilst standing in this crowded building filled with strangers milling about.

“And a fireplace?” You smile back, toying shyly with the beads resting around his neck.

“And a fireplace.” He agrees.

[kaigarax]

Sunflower Memories

Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone that's a constant in your life."

My Dearest,

I think heartbreak is more beautiful than love because I could never be sure if I truly loved you or just the idea of you. But I knew, without a hint of a doubt, that I was heartbroken. I think heartbreak is more beautiful than love because love is a hope and heartbreak is certainty.

Yours Truly

---

Good Luck - Right Before Everything Went Wrong

You smile prettily as Sabito brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

He whispers something that has you giggling in response.

Giyuu watches from a distance, something warm and uncomfortable stirring in his stomach.

Tomioka Giyuu had never really considered himself a jealous kind of person. Sure there were things that others had that he didn’t but overall he was happy. Well, as happy as someone who’s family had been murdered by demons could be.

And even when he did get jealous he always tried his best to push those feelings down and away. Afterall, those weren’t the good kind of feelings that anyone should be feeling in the first place.

As far as Giyuu could tell, he had it pretty good. A father figure teacher (Urokodaki Sensei) that looked out for him, a best friend (Sabito) that’s always been there to look out for him, and a third friend (you) to round out that trio. You were the only girl of the group but it wasn’t as if you always spent time with the three of them. Only there to get training from Urokodaki Sensei when your own teacher (your father) was out on a difficult mission.

After two years of grueling training Urokodaki Sensei had finally decided that he and Sabito were skilled enough to take the exam to become fully fledged demon slayers. You, who had been training just as hard as the two boys, would have to wait another year after you ended up spraining your ankle. It was unfortunate that he and Sabito wouldn’t get to take the exam with you but he was certain you’d do well. Perhaps even better without the two of them.

Giyuu chalks the hot and uncomfortable feeling in his stomach up to the jitters that happen right before the exam. Though, anyone that understood the parameters of the exam were likely to feel just as nervous as him.

You seem to have finished your conversation with Sabito as you hobble your way over to Giyuu, a halfway sorta smile on your lips that sends Giyuu’s heart into a tizzy of flutters and his stomach into a series of dramatic summersaults.

“Hi.” Giyuu says awkwardly.

“Hey,” you smile fully, “you ready?”

Giyuu swallows, his palms sweaty, “as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You don’t seem very confident.” You tease.

Giyuu merely shrugs in response.

“Here.”

“Hm?”

You hold out a golden sunflower to Giyuu. It’s a pretty thing if not a little large. Giyuu, personally, has always preferred something a little more subtle but he supposes that he’ll accept this because it’s a gift from you.

His cheeks are flushed bright red, “a sunflower?”

You beam, “I heard they’re meant to bring good luck!”

“Hey!” Sabito shouts, cutting off Giyuu’s train of thought, “where are my flowers! And here I was thinking that I was your favourite~” Sabito’s quick to make his way over to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You roll your eyes as you gently scold Sabito.

Giyuu laughs softly in response.

Tomikoa Giyuu never really considered himself a jealous kind of person. But that was before everything had gone wrong and his life was tossed in despair.

He wonders if Sabito’s life would’ve gone better if he had been the one you’d given the sunflower to.

---

Lasting Happiness - In the Midst of It

“Hey, Giyuu!” You grabbed his wrist before he could leave the room.

Giyuu sighed, anxious to get away from you but seeing no way out.

Giyuu felt bad when he ignored you (now more than ever) but he just couldn’t bear to look at you.

You especially weren’t making it any easier with all those doe eyes from across the room.

He’d done his best to avoid (and ignore) you for years so why was it now that he suddenly found himself forced to be in the same room as you.

“(L/n).”

Throughout the years Giyuu had caught glimpses of you but it’s been at least two years since he last had a proper conversation with you. And even then he hadn’t even been able to look you in the face, too ashamed of his actions to actually look at you.

But now, as you held tightly onto his wrist, he couldn’t help but look at you.

You’d grown into your features real nice, softening out in some places while sharpening in others. You were still you but… older. Giyuu supposes that he should have expected you to look older… that’s what happened to everyone.

He has to force himself to look away or risk breaking down and revealing all his headships to you immediately.

He did have to admit that you had gotten pretty. You’d always been pretty (jaw droppingly so) but the way that you had grown was almost unfair. No, it was unfair. How could it be fair for someone to be that pretty? Especially in a world like their own. Fate was cruel, though Giyuu supposes that if anyone were to be left at the mercy of fate then it should be him for how unfairly he had been treating you over the years.

A frown forms over your pretty features, “so that’s how it is, huh?”

He regrets his cold attitude the second the words leave his mouth, “no (Y/n), I-” He cuts himself off, unsure of what to say next.

You stare at him expectantly but eventually your gaze softens, “how have you been?”

Giyuu shrugs, “as well as I can be.”

“Grab a meal with me?”

Giyuu’s immediate instinct is to decline your proposal. To ignore you but in the end he sighs deeply and nods. He thinks that this, at the very least, is what you deserve after all the pain and suffering that you’ve been through.

He thinks that maybe this is okay for him too.

His heart doesn’t flutter dramatically the same way it used to.

“Fine.” Giyuu manages, “but make it something quick.”

Your frown breaks out into a smile and Giyuu can’t help but admire the expression on your face. You’re so much prettier with a smile than a frown. It makes him a little proud to think that he’s the reason behind such a bright and pretty look.

“Okay.”

---

Unwavering Faith - When I Didn’t Understand You

Giyuu was usually a man of habit.

Always went to bed at the same time (unless he was on a mission), always made sure to brush his teeth and wash his face before using the toilet and finally ending the night with a shower before finally heading to bed and blowing the candle by his bedside out.

So colour him surprised (and awfully embarrassed) when he woke up on the floor of your room, shirtless and surrounded with sheets of paper that he certainly doesn’t remember reading over the night before.

You’re lying on the floor across from him, your fingers inches away from touching his own.

The fire burning in the fireplace of your room seems to have died at one point leaving behind a pathetic pile of burnt out rubble. It seems to have kept away the chill of the night for the most part considering that the two of you managed to spend the night on the floor though Giyuu thinks that also might be because of the food coma the two of you seemed to have eaten yourselves into.

He had told himself that he would only eat a little, for the sake of being polite (and Sabito), and then head out but you were much more convincing than Giyuu thought. It seemed that one thing only led to another until the two of you were now sitting across from one another sleeping and half asleep (fully asleep in your case) on the floor of your room.

At least the floor was comfortable.

Well as comfortable as a floor can be.

Giyuu’s still pretty sure that the two of you will be sore later on in the day. Even right now he’s feeling a little stiff. It reminds him of when the two of you were young kids staying out late to watch the stars and falling asleep outside.

Sabito was never never one to fall asleep while outside but you and Giyuu had fallen asleep outside more times than he could count. More times than Urokodaki Sensei could count, now that he thinks about it.

From this angle, the sunlight makes your face look soft.

It reminds Giyuu of back when everything was so much simpler. When everything was easier.

Your room is similar to his. The same size with a small bed tucked in the corner. Just a lot messier, though that was probably because of all the papers you had spewn across the room. Your room has a lot of personality to it too. He smiles softly when he spots a bouquet of sunflowers tucked in the corner of the room in a vase. The flowers are a little dead, which means they must have been here for a while now.

He bets one of the younger girls that wanders the premises had picked the flowers for you.

The idea that you still like sunflowers makes him smile.

Stiffly, Giyuu stretches before walking over to your bed and picking up the sheet before draping it over you. He had considered picking you up and carrying you onto your bed but knew he’d die of embarrassment if you woke up while he was carrying you.

---

Unconditional Love - At the End of Everything

“Hey.” You say casually, sliding into a seat beside Giyuu as he stares up at the sky above.

Giyuu blushes as you rest your head on his shoulder, answering you with a stiff, “hi.”

“What’re you looking at?”

“The stars.”

You flick Giyuu’s forehead, “come on Giyuu. You know what I meant.”

“Do I?” Giyuu feels a ghost of a smile from over the corners of his lips.

You pout, “and just when I thought we were getting somewhere you go and forget about all my favourite memories.”

“I’m part of your favourite memories?” Giyuu asks, his heart thumping dramatically.

And to think, he thought he’d managed to get over that fluttering that he always used to get around you.

He supposes some things never change.

Some of his favourite memories are with you too. Like that time where you followed a bird around, convinced that it had stolen your special hair pin (you later on found it in your bedsheets); or that time where Giyuu had forgotten to prep the vegetables for dinner and the two of you scrambled to make sure everything would be ready on time (you weren’t). For him, it was the little things that often went by unnoticed in mundane life.

And for you, it seems, the stars.

“Of course,” you hum softly, “you and the constellations.”

“Me and the constellations you can’t see.” Giyuu teases.

It feels right.

He feels like everything’s okay.

That it’s going to be okay.

He wishes he hadn’t been so stupid when he was young and had just spoken to you but he supposes that now is better than never. He knows for sure that Sabito would scold him. Call himself stupid for ignoring you (one of the most important people in his life) because of his own guilt.

“Hey! I can see the constellations now! It’s not my fault that I didn’t have the free time to learn all the fancy names of the stars in the sky like you.”

“But you have the time now?”

“I made the time to learn.”

Well, you were always good at learning new things. Especially when you put your mind to it. And Giyuu supposes that you did always like staring up at the stars when you were younger - but you never seemed to care all that much about the different names and shapes in the same way that Giyuu had.

You did always listen to him but he could tell that you’d rather be listening to something else.

So, to hear that you had taken the time out of your day to learn of course could only have prompted the (only) logical question of, “why?”

You blush slightly, “because I wanted to impress you.”

Giyuu swears his heart skips a beat like how it used to when the two of you were young.

He supposes that not everyone grows out of their childhood loves.

Fall in love with someone that’s a constant in your life.

---

Her: Don’t you want to know how much I love you?

[mrsaltieri-real]

Thrill of the Kill (Mickey Altieri X Fem!AFAB!GF!Reader)

You are Mickey’s accomplice to the Windsor college Ghostface murders and realise that you get off on the thrill of murder just as he does.

Warning/s: smut, blowjob, masturbation, gagging, choking, murder, sadism, readers a twisted fuck whose obsessed with Mickey (mood), discussion of murder, blood, gore, etc

A/N: I changed how Cici Cooper dies for plot reasons, Mrs Loomis isn’t Mickey’s accomplice at all the reader is.

It’s low-key kinda fucked up so don’t read if you don’t like violence or anything previously mentioned. This didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted but I can’t only rewrite so many times before I want to throw my fucking computer out of the window. If you do read on, enjoy!

——————————————————————————

2 days ago

“A practice run.” Mickey had explained, stood leaning against his desk with your Ghostface mask in his hands as you sat on his couch, listening intently as he spoke. “That bitch always has far too much to say. I want nothing more than to rip her vocal cords out so she she can’t ever speak again. But Cici Cooper is all yours, baby.”

“Jeez, Mick.” You’d laughed. “Is this because of her bashing sequels in film class?”

“Partially.” He said thoughtfully, tossing the mask and walking away from his desk to stand in front of you, his hand tilting your chin up and his thumb lightly running over the soft skin of your lower lip. “But mostly, I just want to see you rip her apart.” You smiled up at him, eyes fixed on his beautiful face as he continued to speak. “I’m so fucking glad I met you.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” You asked, shivering a little as his hand slid from your lip to caress your cheek.

“You want this just as much as I do. And you don’t even have a motive. You just want to kill people for me. Do you understand how fucking sexy that is?” He murmured in a soft voice, his hand moving from your face into your hair, gazing down at you in awe.

The plan was made. Mickey had his defense planned out to it’s very core, go to trail, blame the movies, which you were more than willing to assist him with, and you, well you were so unbelievably infatuated with him that when you stumbled across his plans a couple of months ago instead of being terrified like any normal rational person, you’d asked him if you could assist him.

You’d met Mickey during first year film class, and the attraction was instantaneous. He could see a hidden darkness in you that you yourself hadn’t truly realized yet and he made it his life’s mission to bring that part of you out of it’s shell. He’d introduced you to his true self slowly but hadn’t needed to worry at all, because as soon as he told you what he was planning you, much to his surprise, hadn’t even really been phased. More intrigued and fascinated with him. He loved how she admired and practically worshipped the ground he walked on. It stroked his ego in just the perfect way.

From an outsiders perspective, you were just a sweet dorky couple, fairly publicly affectionate. Mickey’s hands were never really off of you, always finding some way to make sure he had any kind of contact. Weather it was holding your hand, arm around your shoulders or his hand in the back pocket of your jeans it didn’t matter. He liked people knowing you belonged to him.

He was not insecure about your relationship by any means, he knew the last thing you’d ever do was cheat or even flirt with somebody else, but if he saw a guy so much as glance at you in a way he didn’t deem appropriate, he’d have a burning hot rage spread through his entire body which would only be cooled when you noticed and gently stretched up on your toes and kiss his scowling lips and whispering to him that if he wanted you to, you’d fucking kill them for him.

He loved how twisted you were, how passionate and how much excitement and anticipation you’d had for the upcoming murders. In a strange way, it made him feel less alone.

Now, with his fingers still tangled in your hair, he gazed down at you, thriving off of how you stared up at him like a blind person seeing the sun for the first time. It was that admiration that really did get him off.

“You excited about it? Killing her?” He asked you, gently beginning to pull your hair back until you made a little whimpering sound and nodded.

“Wanna show me how excited you are, sweetheart?” He cooed at you and now your response was much more eager.

“Yes.” You said, a wide smile spreading across your face as you fell straight to your knees in front of him, reaching for the waistband of his sweats, only for his hand to grab yours before you could even touch the soft material.

“What do you say?” Mickey murmured, his voice a little lower as he stared down at you with dark eyes.

“Please let me suck your cock, Mickey.” You begged, gazing up at him desperately. “I need to feel you in my mouth so bad, please please let me.”

He smirked down at you a little, loving the sight of your wide eyes pleading with him, the small pout on your lips as you begged him to let you blow him. He could feel himself swelling harder and harder as you relentlessly continued to plead with him, before brushing his finger lightly over your cheekbone and giving you a small nod.

Without missing a beat, you pulled down his loose grey sweatpants, looking lovingly at his already hard cock. Just talking about murder turned Mickey on to the highest extent. And the rush of the kill? No pussy could ever compare. Except one.

Your hand gently slid up his thighs, finger nails lightly grazing his skin, making him shiver a little. “Don’t tease me, Y/N.” His voice had a slight warning tone and as much as you wanted to ignore it, past experiences made you think better of that. The last thing you wanted was for him to deny you, and you knew that’s exactly what he’d do if you played with him. That was for him to do to you, never the other way around.

He let out a small groan when he felt your warm, wet mouth taking in as much as him as you could, moving his free hand to join his other one in your hair, pulling you closer until your nose touched the stubbly skin above his cock and you let out a soft gag.

You made sure to swirl your tongue around his tip just the way you knew he liked it as you bobbed your head, consistently making eye contact with him as you did so. His hands still gripped your hair as he forced you to speed it up, grinding his hips on your face till you could feel his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. The sounds Mickey made as he fucked your face made your clit swell and you crossed your legs, trying to cause some subtle kind of friction as you hummed with your mouth around his cock, saliva beginning to dribble out of your mouth and down your chin.

“Jesus fuck, baby.” He groaned, one of his hands moving right on the back of your head as he pushed your head as close to him as possible. You began relishing in the feeling of his thick cock filling your throat. “Fuckin- fuckin’ touch yourself.” he managed to stutter out between small pants as he continued to thrust himself in and out of your mouth.

He didn’t need to tell you twice. Your hand quickly moved down to your panties, shoving them aside as you starting gently teasing your clit, letting out a small satisfied moan as you did so. The feeling of him fucking your face mixed with your fingers circling your clit was driving you crazy, making you eager to take more and more of him as his thrusts sped up, along with the movement of your own fingers. The feeling of his dick gagging you repeatedly mixed with you rubbing your own clit was driving you absolutely insane. You could feel the tears start rolling down your face he did one more brutal thrust into your mouth, suddenly holding his position with his cock choking you, making it harder for you to breathe as you felt his seed spreading straight down your throat, causing you to splutter a little as he let out a long and satisfied groan, his head falling back a little.

“So fucking pathetic.” He laughed breathlessly, squeezing his hand into a fist around your hair and pulling you off him so he could look down at your face, his eyes mocking as you gasped for air. “Look at you, a fucking mess after you begged for it.” He laughed again as you coughed a little as you looked up at him with those same pleading eyes, his thumb wiping your tear stained face.

He tilted his head a little at you, seeing something else behind your eyes other than the deep satisfaction that you’d made him cum down your throat and his cocky smile turned into a small frown. “Are you okay?” He asked anxiously, still a little breathless as his hand still rested on your flushed cheek. “Did I go too hard? I’m sorry baby, I know I can get a little-“

“No! No it’s not that!” You said quickly. It was absolutely not that. You loved the feeling of Mickey abusing your mouth for his own pleasure, you always had.

“Then what is it?”

You took a deep breath, wincing at the sore feeling in your throat before talking.

“What if I can’t do it? Kill Cici.” You suddenly blurted out, eyes dropping to the floor, taking Mickey a little by surprise. “I mean.. what if I pussy out last minute?”

“Y/N.” Mickey’s voice turned stern as he moved his hand to grip your chin, so you were forced to look at him and he bent down a little. “You’re not going to pussy out. You were made for this, just like I was. You’ll see. You’ll feel the power of holding someone’s life in your hands and you’ll fucking thrive off that shit. You’re my girl, right?”

You nodded as much as you could.

“Exactly. And I’ll be there the whole time if something goes wrong, but it won’t. You are just like me.” His soft brown eyes and his words seemed to soothe you and his hand gently released your chin, satisfied that his little speech seemed to work. He meant every word of it. He knew you could do this because whenever he looked at you, he could see the exact same burning desire in his eyes that he himself had.

Although you appeared a little calmer, he still noticed something slightly uncomfortable in your face and body language as you shifted a little. Mickey looked you up and down curiously before his eyes widened in sudden acknowledgment of what the issue was.

“Didn’t manage to get off, baby?”

“You didn’t tell me I could cum.” You said, shrugging a little like it was obvious, the feeling of denial settling into your lower stomach.

“Ah.” He helped you stand up before gently pushing you down on his couch, his strong hands sliding up your inner thigh and a satisfied smile spread across his face when he felt your drenched panties and your still swollen clit through the thin material, the slight sensation of his fingers making a shiver pass through your body and a small whine fall from between your swollen and abused lips.

“Let’s fix that.”

——————————————————————————

You stood above the body of Cici Cooper and pulled the Ghostface mask off with one fluid motion, a sadistic smile plastered across your face, chest heaving with pure adrenaline and excitement. You couldn’t get over how amazing it had felt, sinking that knife into her chest and torso over and over again, relishing in the feeling of the knife slicing into her warm flesh and the sounds of her screams and cries begging you to stop, with your even more psychotic boyfriend watching you carefully and proudly as you did so. You’d never felt that kind of power, that kind of uncontrollable bloodlust in your life. It made you feel things you’d never felt before. It made you wonder why you’d never killed before.

“You did amazing, sweetheart.” He crooned, coming up behind you and kissing the back of your head gently. You turned around to face him, looking almost smug.

“You were right.” You said gleefully. “Killing really does make you feel-“

You were cut off by Mickey’s hands yanking you toward him by your waist, his lips melting against yours in a way that made you almost fall to the floor.

“Powerful.” You mumbled against his mouth and the laugh he let out was muffled by your lips.

You noticed how sensual the whole thing had been for you, how turned on you felt. It was a whole other experience to anything you’d ever felt before. Then you realised as Mickey pressed you against his body, you could feel his hard cock pushing up against your stomach from behind his own Ghostface robe. You relished in the newfound knowledge that Mickey watching you brutally murder that girl had turned him on too.

Because of course it did. The woman he loved was just as sadistic as he was. Loved the thrill of the kill exactly as he did. What’s hotter than that?

You wanted to deepen the kiss, beg him to fuck you right next to Cici Coopers corpse more than anything but he let out a small, groaning sigh.

“We’ve got to go.” He sighed as he pulled back, his hand reaching to cup your cheek. “We don’t wanna be here when the cops get called. We need to get to that party so we’ll have an alibi.”

You felt your lips turn into a pout and it made Mickey smirk a little, gently tracing the outside of your lips with his gloved hand.

“Fine,” you stretched up on your toes, you arms slinking around his neck and pulling his face back down to yours. “Can we at least fuck when we get there?”

Mickey let out a small laugh before nodding his head, hand still cradling your face.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

A/N: Ugh I hate this. But we move.

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Library Spot || Drabble

Fandom: Xmen

Warnings: None. (it really fluffy tho)

Wordcount: 2410

Summary: Nothing better post-mission than to snuggle in some cosy hiding spot AN: Thanks Miranda, for reminding me that Four Seasons by Vivaldi exists. I should listen to it more while doodling myself. I can apparently either do soul crushing angst or very soft sugary sweet fluff and little in between. We're not going to argue the logistics of a Walkman playing classical music here I'm already annoyed its a Capitalized Word TM and Quicksilver has some kind of portable music system in Days Of Future Past which is set in what, 1976? I think? -checks- 1973 actually eh I was close. -------------------------------------

She wasn't in the danger room, in the kitchen, in the gym. Not in either of their rooms, and not on the roof either where Kurt now stood with his hands to his sides, thinking of where Miranda could be now that he had crossed off most of her usual spots. He didn't even need to check the waterfall; because that was a late resort hiding spot she only used when severely upset. Which was a mood that had thankfully not occurred in her for quite a while now. Looking over to the usual spot in the garden where she liked to hide out as well, he saw she also wasn't there.

"Well, I'm starting to run out of options.... Right," he muttered to himself, shifting his weight a little as he thought out loud to himself, "I'm Miranda, an introvert in need of time by myself to charge my social battery. If I'm not in my usual hiding spots, where am I?"

He thought for a while until his brain offered one more idea of where she could be, to which he raised an eyebrow. Well, if she wasn't there, he had truly no idea where she would be. Poofing over to the library in the mansion, he looked around until he saw a sliver of wine red between some bookshelves, all the way off into a corner. He teleported over once more as he finally found her. She had burrowed away in the corner furthest away from the door to the library, comfortably nestled in a big bean bag with her legs crossed as the foot on her elevated leg lightly moved along to the music she was listening to on a Walkman. A few art supplies were on a small stool next to her, and she was happily scribbling away on the paper that she had on the clipboard in her lap.

As soon as he appeared, she looked up at him, pushing the headphones off and pausing her music

"Oh, hey, I didn't realise you'd be back so soon or I would've met you outside."

"It's okay; I just wanted to check where you are. Now that I know, I can go if you-"

"Kurt, stay. Please."

He gave a soft smile to her, gesturing at her to sit back down as she made an attempt to leave the bean bag. Because for starters the big bag didn't seem in any hurry to let go of its current occupant, and Kurt had teleported himself in between various objects and people before.

She gave a light squeak as he tossed her up enough to really settle in between her and the semi chair, taking her place in the surprisingly comfortable and warm bean bag while wrapping his arms around her as she was now in his lap, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"What’cha doing?"

"Drawing," she muttered in response, as she leaned a bit further back into his embrace. An embrace she would spend forever in if she only realistically could, "mostly flowers and birds, right now, I don't know, I just felt like doodling. Hey, uhm... This is going to sound stupid-"

"I don't think anything you say is going to sound stupid to me."

"Y-Yeah, well, uhm," her cheeks slowly turned a little red. He might not think it was stupid, but she still felt like she was about to make a very odd request, "can you... wrap your tail around me?"

He blinked just once at it, but silently obliged, gently and loosely wrapping his tail around her lower waist as per her request. Well, she hadn't actually specified where, but that seemed to be the most logical choice, right?

"Like that?" he got a small nod as a reply, "Hm. May I ask why?"

"Dunno," she said as she shrugged, "it just makes me feel protected. Safe. For some reason. Sorry if that doesn't make sense."

Letting her change the position of her arms so she could continue her drawing, Kurt pressed a gentle little kiss to Miranda's shoulder before settling back into his previous pose; he was actually feeling quite comfortable like this.

"Don't apologize. I'm glad it makes you feel safe. What where you listening too, anyway?" and without waiting for an answer he took the headphones, putting one of the soft pads to his ear while yanking the Walkman close enough to press play and listening to the music for a little bit, "Huh. Vivaldi, really?"

"Mh. I like listening to classical when I draw. It's great to keep in the background. But Vivaldi has nothing on you, honestly."

"Huh?"

"Your purr."

Feeling his cheeks burn with heat, Kurt set the Walkman aside with a slight huff. He wasn't. He didn't. Did he? If he did he had never noticed it himself before. Leaning back onto her shoulder, he pouted.

"I don't purr. ... Do I?"

"You do. You're doing it right now," she countered with a soft laugh as she could very clearly hear the light, happy rumble coming from low in his chest, "only happens when you're really comfortable, so I'll take it as a compliment. And... I like it. It's soothing."

"Great; I'm not beating the cat allegations any time soon then."

"You're the best kind of cat in that case: a very snuggly one," Miranda said as another laugh escaped her, turning just enough to him to press a kiss to his cheek before turning her attention back to the drawing she was working on; one of a little hummingbird. She felt the blush on her face blossom further, the comfort from the hug warming her to her core, "... but, seriously.. I don't think I've ever been hugged this much in my life. And, uhm... k-keep doing it? I think I have a lot of not hugging and not cuddling to make up for."

He smiled, slowly tightening his grip on her ever so slightly. That was a request he was all too happy to fulfil; there was little he loved more than cuddling with someone he cared about. And if it helped her in any way he was only too happy to provide the physical affection she had apparently been missing out on for so long.

He liked the way she fit into his arms, anyway, the way she leaned into his embrace now when she definitely had felt more stiff and unsure before- which made sense, he supposed, if she wasn't that familiar with affection like this.

"People compare you to a cat a lot too."

"An obnoxious stray one that won't leave after she's been fed."

"You're not obnoxious," he protested immediately, poking her in her side to which she gave a soft squeak of protest, "You're cute."

"You.... really think so?" she asked quietly after a bit, removing the paper from her clipboard before adding another one and starting a new sketch. Kurt just nodded, softly kissing her shoulder again, "... I think you're cute too."

They sat there together, hidden away from prying eyes with the only sounds between them being the light scratching of her pencil on the paper and his soft purring as he rested his head against the back of her shoulder. His eyes opened the moment the pencil stopped making sound, but fluttered shut again when he realised she was just switching it for an ink pen and an eraser.

"What do you think?" she asked after a little while, causing him to open his eyes again as she held the clipboard up for him to easily see what she had been working on, "and... be honest. Because I don't think I got it quite right."

"It's me," he said with a little grin, "it looks great, Süßer. As long as people can tell what it's supposed to be, you're doing great. How long have you been drawing for?"

"About a decade, on and off. Kind of wish I was further along than I am, but... I'm not doing this for competition or as work; it's just the best way to get out of my head."

Setting the clipboard aside, she stirred in his arms. He released his grip so she could adjust and change how she wanted, to which she turned to her side and rested her head to his chest with a slight calm sigh. He looked up for a moment when he thought he heard a sound, but there wasn't anyone else in the library currently.

Made sense, most of the people in the mansion were occupied with other things. The only one he could feasibly imagine entering anytime soon was Hank, and if that did happen Kurt doubted Hank would care to notice they were there; Beast was often far too wrapped up in his work and study to really pay mind to his surroundings.

"You've... got anywhere to be?"

"Nowhere I'd rather be, if thats what you're asking. Rogue is reporting our mission findings to Scott, she doesn't need my help with that. She told me so herself, that it would be fine and that I should just get some rest."

And he wasn't the only one in need of some rest it seemed. Whether it was from the comfort of his embrace, that she hadn't slept enough last night, or a bit of both; she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Readjusting his arms around her to a comfortable easy grip, Kurt gently ran his hand over her arm to soothe her further.

"And it seems like I'm not the only one," he laughed as she yawned almost on cue. She hummed softly in agreement, shutting her eyes not so much to truly fall asleep as to just rest her mind and body a little.

The door to the library was opened, glowing yellow eyes immediately looking over as Kurt was ready to get them both out of there depending on who was entering- his alert instantly subsiding as Hank came in. Kurt's gaze just followed as Hank wandered in, muttering something to himself that Kurt couldn't quite make out; and if he did it all had to do with medical science above his level of understanding. Hank grabbed a couple of books, debating to himself for a moment which one he actually needed, before putting one back and opening the other. While reading it semi aloud to himself, he walked back out, all without acknowledging the presence of the other two mutants in there even once.

"Who was that?" Miranda softly asked.

"Hank. I don't think he noticed us. Well. I think he knows we're here, I'm half convinced he depends on his scent more than he claims to. But there's a difference between knowing we're here and seeing what we're up to. We're fine."

And with that, he settled into the embrace himself. Closing his eyes for some rest himself, his ears remained sharp to listen for anyone else. And as soon as he heard the doorknob to the room turn in a different way, with way less weight behind it than Hank used, he reached out to grab the clipboard, taking it and her last drawing along as he teleported both of them out of the library and into his room. He placed her on the bed before going back the same way he came, moving around the library as if that had been what he was doing the whole time; easy to pretend he was just poofing around the room to find a specific book until he deliberately showed up next to Shadow.

"Gutentag. Fancy seeing you in the library. Looking for anything in particular?"

She just looked at him, one eyebrow half raised at his question.

"You don't seem like the librarian in here, Kurt," she said, shaking the book she was looking for as she had already found it by herself, "I've got it covered, it's fine."

She watched as he grabbed himself a couple of fiction books and took a spot at one of the tables around the place, opening one. And for a moment, she almost bought it; but for a reason she couldn't quite put her finger on it seemed a little too staged.

"Why are you actually here?"

"Why's anyone in a library, Fraulein? I've been here since I got back from the mission."

"The mission with Rogue? Who's been in Scott's office for what, ten, maybe twenty minutes? And you've just now decided which books to grab to read while being here all by yourself?" but the thing was, she had little to disprove his claim, something she was all the more aware of when yellow eyes slowly turned her way.

"Well, what do you suggest I was up to in here before you got here?"

"... I don't know. This library is big enough to hide away in."

A slight tension lingered in the silence between them, as both stared at each other for what felt like minutes on end, but in reality was only a couple of seconds.

"If you must know, I finished the last few pages of a book before you got here. Better to wrap up what you started than start something new with ten pages to the finish line."

She had no reason not to believe him, other than the feeling in her gut that he somehow wasn't telling her the truth. Then again, Shadow had little grounds to stand on when it came to honestly admitting to who she was spending most of her time with, so even if Kurt's claims fell off and she could probably needle him with the fact that his own faith condemned lying...

Bit hypocritical from someone who wouldn't admit it either had she and Gambit been up to something around here. Blue eyes observed Kurt for a moment longer, and she knew she didn't have any evidence that Miranda had been here.

"... Enjoy your books, I have to get back to the lab," she concluded, leaving the library. As soon as she shut the door behind her, Kurt let out a relieved sigh. He waited a little while longer before setting most of the books back where he found them, and teleporting back to his room with a singular one. He settled onto the bed, close enough to a sleeping Miranda that they were slightly in contact, before opening the book back up and returning to the point he had stopped at before.

[undyingghoul]

can I have a fanfic where Sodo gets sick n the reader has to look after him 👉🏻👈🏻

ANOOOOOON I LOVE THIS IDEAAAAAA!! Giving you hugs and pats for this amazing idea rn --------

Pairing: Dewdrop x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive remarks (once or twice only- It's Dewdrop, what do you expect?)

Title: In Love And Sickness

Summary: Dewdrop woke up one morning feeling awful and he later concluded that he caught a cold. You made it your mission to help him feel better.

“A-A-Achoo!” Dewdrop sneezed so hard he tumbled out of bed. He let out a loud and nasally groan, sniffling a bit but not being able to get much air in through his nose. That confirmed it for him. He had caught a cold.

From up on the bed you peeked over the edge down at your boyfriend. “Dewy?” You asked gently and watched the fire Ghoul push himself up slowly. “Ugh…” He groaned again, crawling back into bed and curling up in the blankets and against you. It was then that you felt how hot he was. “Satanas loves me, you’re burning hot, Dew!” You blurted. Dewdrop snuggled into you more and coughed a bit. “Yeah, I think I caught one of your stupid human viruses…” Dewdrop mumbled.

You hummed and took him into your arms. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here to take care of you, my flame!” You said sternly. “It’s like a mother taking care of her child… Does that mean I should call you mommy?” Dewdrop teased with a hoarse chuckle before coughing again. You rolled your eyes and got off the bed, making Dewdrop whine before you picked him up and carried him to the bathroom attached to his room. Even though Dewdrop was sick you should’ve known he’d still make his suggestive remarks. It’s Dewdrop you’re talking about here.

“What are we doing in here?” Dewdrop asked when you brought him into the bathroom. “So I know Ghouls and humans are vastly different but for us humans a nice warm bath usually helps with any sickness. The warmth and steam loosen everything in your head and nose and the warm water just feels nice,” You explained to him as you stood him up to get the water running for him. Dewdrop smiled a bit before he sneezed again, his tail shivering behind him before the spade of it smacked his back a bit in annoyance.

You giggled at the action. “I swear your tail has a mind of its own, Dewy,” You laughed as you started the water and continued to check the temperature until you knew it was perfect for Dewdrop. Besides, if it was too cold he could always warm it up himself. Dewdrop slowly started to take off his clothes, not realizing just how soaked they were with sweat. He tossed the clothes aside and got into the tub, sinking down and letting out a delighted chitter at the warm water hitting his skin and enveloping him. A little bit of his stuck out of the water and it started to wag with joy, making you chuckle a bit. “See what I mean?” You asked as you sat beside the tub with him. “Oh yeah, I see it,” Dewdrop said as he started to purr. He took his hand out of the water and reached for your hand, letting him grab it and pull you closer to him. You let him rest his head on you and a little more of his tail came out of the tub to wrap around your arm loosely.

You stayed in there with him for at least twenty minutes before deciding to make him some chicken noodle soup and saltine crackers for when he was done. “I’ll be right back, Dewy, I’m gonna make you something to eat. It won’t take me long, I promise,” You told him, letting go of his hand and shaking off his tail. He didn’t want you to leave him but he nodded anyway. “Be quick,” He huffed. “I will love, I promise,” You reassured him and pressed a kiss to his head before making your way to the kitchen.

The kitchen was empty when you got there and you hummed a soft tune as you got a kettle out and grabbed a can of the good kind of chicken noodle soup. Setting the kettle down you turned the burner and opened the can, dumping the contents of it into the kettle and then throwing the can away. You grabbed a thermos from the cupboard and set it out for later. Moving to the pantry you went in and looked for the saltine crackers and grabbed them once you found the box. You pulled out an already open package of saltines and put the box back before coming back to check on the soup. Seeing it start to bubble a bit you knew it was warm enough and turned the burner off and carefully dumped the soup into the thermos. You twisted the cap on, grabbed a spoon, and promised yourself to clean the kettle later as you made your way back to Dewdrop with the soup and crackers.

“Dewdrop, I’m back!” You announced once you entered his room, seeing him curled up on his bed patiently waiting for you. When he saw you his tail started to thump against the bed and he forced himself to sit up. He let out a chitter and you gave him the soup, spoon, and crackers. “Not that I need to warn you but the soup is hot, be careful,” You said as Dewdrop took everything from you and opened the thermos and crackers. He sniffed the soup and licked his lips before starting to eat the soup. Loud rumbling purrs left him and his tail only thumped harder against the bed and you giggled, sitting next to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Once he had finished the soup and the saltines he reached around you to put everything and the nightstand before snuggling into you. “You are the best mommy I could’ve ever asked for,” He cooed with a teasing smirk and you gently flicked his head. “Oh, Dewdrop, even when you are sick you are still your normal, horny self.”

[claudemblems]

Treating Wounds | Eren Yeager

Summary: You treat Eren’s wounds unknowingly for the last time. Eren has already put his plans into place, but he has the selfish wish of sharing one last night with you.   

Notes: SURPRISE I have written an Eren imagine for you all!! I felt like it's been a while since I've written for AOT and I wanted to fix that :.) This was supposed to be super fluffy but it turned out kinda angsty instead. Still, I hope you're able to enjoy it!!! Writing something different is a nice change of pace.

"I'm fine, [Name]. These are just a few scratches and bruises."

"And bite marks. I know you have to transform sometimes during fights, but you don't have to bite all the way down to your bone!"

Eren could only laugh in response as you shook your head, wondering aloud how your boyfriend managed to be so smart yet so reckless at the same time. You would have scolded him further if you weren't so focused on patching him up. Besides, it was hard to argue with him when he was smiling down at you so fondly. Instead, you pushed your complaints to the side and continued your work.

"You know," Eren began, holding out his hand so you could apply salve to it, "this reminds me of when we first met."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'd seen you a few times during training, but we'd never had the chance to properly meet. It wasn't until I was pretty banged up from trying to master the maneuver gear that you approached me. You wore a look that's pretty similar to the one you're giving me now." You rolled your eyes and swatted his arm, Eren grinning at you as you did so. "If I remember correctly, you told me I needed to learn my limits if I was going to survive to fight actual titans."

"Well, you're terribly stubborn, Eren. If I kept letting you mess around with the gear, you'd probably have ended up with one too many concussions."

"I suppose I have you to thank, then."

"Mhm. You're welcome."

Despite your no-nonsense tone, Eren could tell you were holding back a laugh. You always tried to look the part of a serious, level-headed leader, but you were only human, after all. There were bound to be moments where your real feelings shone through.

He wondered what kind of expression you’d make when he eventually left you behind.

It sounded like a harsh thing to do, and truthfully, it would be. But it was for your sake. For the island’s. He wouldn’t drag you into the oncoming war more than he had to. 

He already knew how’d you react. You’d stare down at his letter, flames of anger burning in your eyes as you read through its contents. After everything you’ve done for him, after all the hell you two had gone through, he would toss you away like you’d never mattered to him at all.

Could he really do that to you? 

He loved you enough to. It was the only way to keep you safe.

“Eren?”

He was pulled from his thoughts as he looked upon your furrowed brows and pursed lips. He hadn’t even left for battle yet and he was already starting to worry you. This wouldn’t work. For this mission to succeed, he needed to throw you off his trail.

“Sorry. My dad’s memories came flooding in again.”

“Goodness, Eren. When will you drop the burden you’ve put on your own shoulders?” You sighed but continued to gently clean the wound. Eren watched on, observing how you bit the corner of your lip in concentration. He held back a smile. He’d pointed out your habit several times before, chuckling lightly as you blushed and denied every bit of it. He could never figure out what was so embarrassing, but the red blooming in your cheeks made him want to tease you over and over again. 

He would miss your shy expressions when he left. 

“Stop trying to do everything by yourself, Eren. You have me. You have all of us. We’re your friends, and we care about you. So, please…let us in.”

You stopped dabbing at his wound, directing your eyes into something in the distance. Eren watched how they clouded and tears pricked at their edges like rain. 

“[Name]...”

Eren gasped as you fell into his arms, clutching onto his torso. “Eren, don’t make me suffer like this. Don’t lie to me. Tell me when you’re feeling sad, when you’re unsure of the future, when you’ve given up all hope. I’m here. I can’t bear to watch you close in on yourself. I love you too much.”

If he wasn’t preparing to break your heart, Eren would have allowed himself to cry. But this was a test. If he couldn’t keep a stoic face now while you sobbed into him, he would falter later on. He had to keep it together, for both of your sakes. 

“Don’t cry for me…I don’t deserve your tears.”

You whipped your head up towards him, anger flaring in your eyes. “You don’t get to tell me how I ought to feel towards you! You could at least have some sympathy for your girlfriend crying her eyes out because of you! Don’t you feel anything seeing me this way? Have you grown tired of me? Have you had enough? Am I not special to you anymore—”

Eren silenced you with the warmth of his arms wrapping around your back, pushing you against his chest. Here you could feel how fast his heart was beating, a contrast to his nonchalant facade. 

“Of course it hurts to watch you cry, especially for someone as undeserving of your tears as I am. Eliminating all the titans was supposed to make us all have happy lives, but it seems like suffering just seems to follow us wherever we go.”

“Eren…”

I need to push her away. I need to tell her that I don’t care that she’s crying. That I don’t care if she loves me. I need to say I don’t love…

No. I do love her. I love her so much. I can’t even pretend that I don’t.

Eren tightened his hold around you just slightly, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “You’ll have days where you want to cry. You’ll have times when you’re so upset you don’t even want to get out of bed. But I’ll always be there watching over you. So you don’t need to be afraid of the future. You have a whole lifetime ahead of you. And as long as I’m in your heart, you’ll never be alone.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks, falling and staining Eren’s shirt. He rubbed your back as you cried, squeezing you tighter when your body shook with your sobs. 

She probably thinks I’m referring to my last years alive as a titan-shifter. Good. It’s better this way. 

“I still believe we can find a way to undo this…curse,” you whispered, angling your head against Eren’s chest to better feel his heartbeat. “This won’t be the end of us. I’m sure of it. We’ll find a way to make it to the end.”

I wish we could…he thought, a stabbing pain pricking at his chest. He hadn’t really thought much about dying considering he’d been so focused on tuning the fine-details of his plan. But death isn’t what scared him the most. He’d once tried to imagine a life without you in it, what things would have turned out like if he’d never met you. Every scenario he’d come up with left him terrified. You’d been at his side for so long. You’d given him the affection he didn’t know he’d been craving. You were his shining light, an anchor in unruly waters. You meant everything to him. You loved him. And now he was about to find out what it would be like to be on the receiving end of your hatred.

“Oh, I should probably clean up the rest of your wound. It won’t take long. How about we go to the Mess Hall after this for some dinner?"

Eren hummed in response, giving you his hand to patch up. For the remainder of your task, he kept silent, letting the dread of what was to come enter in and dissipate. He had a mission to accomplish; he had a fate to meet. No matter how hard he tried to run, there would be no escaping what had been shown to him. 

Tomorrow I’ll write my last letter for her to find, and then it’s time to face the judgment that lies before me.