#“it might be necessary for you to tie me up”

[amiharana]

Magnet as a revalink song👀?

i hope this was referring to the vocaloid song 'magnet' i only know like three vocaloid songs and those are World is mine, romeo & cinderella, and irony (but the lizz robinett eng cover) ☝️😀

i also realize now that this is the song with the extremely intimate 'staring longingly into one another's eyes while our butterfly headphones mics are intertwined' album cover and i couldn't be anymore pleased to enthusiastically announce that YES, that in itself is so revalink 😋 where is the fanart for it i need it so bad

miku!revali x luka!link, but here's my live slug reaction to the lyrics. (i skipped the first verse, but i used a mix of this video and this vocaloid lyric wikia to look at lyrics. lmk if the translations are wrong or if there are better interpretations!)

I'm wrapped around your finger from the lips to the tongue Even if this is something that cannot be allowed, The flames jump higher still

if there's anything that anyone should know about me as revalinker, it's that i'm completely obsessed with the idea of link always being wrapped around revali for cuddles, for napping on him, etc., and revali just letting him because he's so fond of link he can't and won't say no. link is wrapped around revali's finger (his wing?) physically; revali is wrapped around link's finger metaphorically.

and for the next lines, consider the idea of revali with this warped idea of loving and being loved in his status as a champion, and him trying to maintain a boundary between the two of them. he tries to find every excuse why he and link can't be together even though he's desperately in love with link anyway; they're champions and have responsibilities to their people, they're foils to each others, they butt heads too often, they're too different to be together, or what would the other champions, or the people of hyrule think if they knew they were together? and yet still, they can't help but continue to seek each other out and intertwine and wrap around each other once more.

Every moment, it's harder to restrain myself If this is love, I want to wear it on my sleeve The "strange feeling" turns into an unbearable longing I would follow you to the end of forever

OH MY GOD. I CAN'T BREATHE. STOLE THE BREATH OUT OF MY LUNGS. there's a reason why i said luka!link i was like THESE LINES. THIS IS LINK RIGHT HERE.

going back to what i said about revali trying to keep them apart for all his stupid reasons, link disregards all of them because he wants revali and he knows revali wants him, too. he knows revali just wants to protect the both of them from anything that could tear them apart or anyone who could oppose them, but who cares what others think? if link hadn't already vowed to silence, he would wish to declare his love for revali for the rest of his days, to wear his heart on his sleeve proudly.

the last two lines. oughghfj. ougugh! i'm screaming crying shitting pissing and throwing up. oh god. i love slow burn for revalink so bad, especially link taking forever to realize that he's in love with revali but when he finally does, he's completely devoted. link being like "what is this feeling. i'm supposed to hate your ass but um. i kinda can't live without it." KJDHFJKSDFHJKSDKJFH he would have followed revali into the afterlife and dragged his soul back if he could

With a heart that has gone astray, We will melt so easily That there's no free time for us even to feel each other's tenderness

thinking about link who puts his duty as the wielder of the sword that seals that darkness over his own happiness, over his own love for revali, because that's his responsibility, his purpose. what else was he made to do?

thinking about revalink who will never get the chance to love each other, to hold each other close and look upon each other fondly and sweetly because of that damned calamity. there's no place for tenderness in these prophetical battlefields. they were always doomed to never be.

What has been repeating is not our dream, But the unmistakably realistic "we" If we touch, I know we can never go back, But that's fine; you are everything in the world to me

THEY'RE SO CLOSE. SO CLOSE YET SO FAR. i'm telling you, revali, it doesn't have to be this way, you can have link if you just choose to be with him 🥹

but also i was talking to @senchee the other day about an au timeline split where it's like avengers: endgame when captain america goes back in time to be with peggy. what if after totk, link went back in time to be with revali. haha. "if we touch i know i can never go back" when he gets sent back in time by rauru or something, it was actually just to send his spirit to see the champions one last time as a fulfilled wish, and rauru tells him not to touch anyone in the past because he'll get stuck there with no way of returning to the present if he does (but rauru is fully aware of what link is about to do 😋)

hylians and rito aren't long lived, especially not over a hundred years if that's how far back link went, but when link doesn't return from the past, rauru takes zelda to rito village goddess statue, where there is now a tablet on revali's landing, memorializing link and revali :)

As dawn breaks, I become uneasy and end up in tears When you whispered, "It's alright", did I hear tears in your voice too?

it's giving the scene in 'pinesong' by aperplexingpuzzle when revali cries every time he watches the sunrise. i love that fic so much i need to go back and reread the revalink bible.

if totk link went back in time to be with revali, do you think he'd cry at the sunrise too, counting every single sacrifice he had to make to be back here again?

and lastly,

I want you to embrace me, I want you to tell me that you don't think this is a mistake I want you to kiss me, I want you to remake me, I want to drown in this moment of captivation I'm drawn to you like a magnet Even if I left, we would find each other again Let's become one; I can never go back but that's fine You're everything in the world to me

oh my god. oh my god. i can't move. you people are gay 🫵😧🏳️‍🌈

revali may speak verbosely, decorating his intentions in all sorts of flowery words, but for link, desire is plain. it's so easy to fluster revali with such simplicity; what better way to convey it with such directness?

[zephyrchama]

"What did Mammon do now?"

The greedy demon was in his underwear, hanging upside down from a rafter in the hallway. He tried to coerce you into letting him down as you walked by, but you knew better than to do so without consulting Lucifer.

"Gambling. The usual." Lucifer had a hand on his forehead, pushing his hair up while jotting something down at his desk.

"Mammon gambles every day," you pointed out. "What'd he really do?"

By the way Lucifer groaned, you knew it was something juicy. "I caught him pilfering one of my rarest records, a gift from Diavolo, to use as collateral in a bet. It's one-of-a-kind. I doubt he even knows what it is, but Mammon always has a knack for finding things of high value."

"His secret sixth sense," you agreed. "What'd you do with his clothes?"

"They make it harder to tie him up tightly. He has a slightly higher chance of wiggling free with clothes on, so I made him strip." Lucifer gestured, Mammon's clothes had been put on some kind of mannequin, tucked away in the space between two bookshelves.

You'd never seen it before. Your jaw dropped into the widest half-smile half-astonished expression possible. It had Mammon's hair and his goofy smile. Even a flashy golden earring. "What is that?"

You practically ran across the room to inspect it. It was dressed properly in Mammon's shirt and tie. There were a lot of seams, more than seemed necessary, perhaps from being repeatedly repaired over years of use. "Lucifer, this is adorable."

"It's a necessary tool for my sanity." He pushed the chair back, standing up to join you.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll give you a demonstration."

Lucifer comically wound up his closed fist. With ballistic force, he struck the figure right in its chest. It flopped back, then sprung back up wildly to receive a fistful of lighter blows from Lucifer.

"You made a Mammon punching bag? Really?" You didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"I didn't make it, Mammon did."

Surprise of the day number two. "Mammon made this? Himself?"

To stop the wobbling, Lucifer grabbed the punching bag's tie, pulling it tight and then smoothing it out. "Cute, right? He thought it might make me go easy on future punishments. It's a very thoughtful gift from my little brother."

"Yeah, I didn't know he could sew. Huh." The two of you stood to admire it before Lucifer returned to his desk. You followed him. "Kind of reminds me of the doll Levi made of me."

Lucifer smiled. "Leviathan made you a doll, did he? How very kind."

"No, he made a doll of me."

Lucifer froze to process this information, frowning.

You continued, "I don't know where he usually keeps it, but I saw it under his desk one time. It's pretty big and detailed. I mentioned it once and offered to lend him a shirt for it, but he got really embarrassed and pushed me out. He's gotta take more pride in his work, it was really impressive."

"I see." Lucifer gritted his teeth. "You know, something I have to do just came up. Let's finish this conversation later." He was quietly seething as he escorted you to the door. Along the way he gave punching-bag Mammon a soft whack to the head.

You realized you forgot to ask if you could untie the real Mammon, but Lucifer had already marched down the hall in the direction of Leviathan's room. Rather than trying to catch up, you decided to go see how the Avatar of Greed was doing.

[onyourowndaisymae]

presenting the obey me dateables (+ luke) with a friendship bracelet

you all asked so nicely for the dateables that i couldn't help but get inspired! i intend to reverse this prompt and write the characters making you a friendship bracelet sometime soon (will be split by demon brothers/dateables bc that's so many words)

[the demon brothers version]

[the dateables (+ luke) presenting you with a friendship bracelet]

content warnings: none

prompt: you grin down at your work. in your hands is a small friendship bracelet, lovingly crafted from hard work and the embroidery thread you found in your closet. you weren't quite sure why you'd made it, but the thought of giving a certain someone the bracelet and watching their reaction made you smile. now, to hand it off...

Diavolo

this is a mistake.

at least, that's what barbatos and lucifer think. because from the moment you present diavolo with a friendship bracelet, it is all he talks about.

when you approach him with the little gift--a red and black bundle of knots and strings-- and offer it up, he laughs jovially and asked what it was. you explain it's a friendship bracelet. from where you're from, you make them for people you care about, so they can have a piece of you with them every day. it's usually a tradition for children and teens, but you thought it would be fun to give him the bracelet regardless. you were just thinking about him (and his lonely childhood-- but you don't say that part aloud) and how he didn't really do stuff like this when he was young... so maybe he'd appreciate it now? you start to feel a little silly by the end of your explanation, so you look up at him to try to gauge his reaction.

you would have thought you proposed with how touched this man looked.

his expression softens and his eyes go wide. he puts out his hands to take the gift and you hand it over. his face quickly splits into a grin as he inspects each individual knot and string. did you really make this? he's impressed. look at how lovely it is! he raves about the quality for longer than necessary (it's not that good, mind you) as you flush from all the praise.

you offer to tie it for him and his eyes sparkle. truly, you never thought he'd enjoy a gift like this that much-- nonetheless, you're incredibly flattered.

how did you make this bracelet? what material is this? will you teach him how to make one, too? how often is he supposed to wear this?

the last question makes you chuckle. honestly, that's up to him. you tell him about that time you wore a friendship bracelet all summer one year, until it was a frayed biohazard that stank up the whole room. you recommend taking it off for showers and activities that might get it that dirty-- please, diavolo, learn from your childhood mistakes-- but other than that, he can wear it whenever he feels like. you assure him that your feelings won't get hurt if he doesn't, but he quickly reassures you that he definitely plans on wearing it.

... and he is not bluffing when he pledges this commitment to you. diavolo will wear his friendship bracelet all day every day, only taking it off when absolutely necessary. that does not include formal meetings or events. he is wearing that damn bracelet. what are they going to do, call him out? he's the fucking demon king (well, close enough).

Barbatos

you present barbatos with the bracelet one day when you've joined him for an afternoon in the kitchen.

he's carefully explaining how he gets the texture to this pastry just right-- there's a clear balance between airiness and moisture, you see-- while you try to listen. you can't help but let your mind wander as he talks. doesn't he know this friendship bracelet is practically burning a hole in your pocket?!

"mc, are you listening?"

he's looking up at you with expectant eyes, and you feel yourself flush in embarrassment. you barely get alone time with him as-is, and here you are, wasting it! you apologize and explain you've been a bit distracted. he welcomes you to share (if you are so inclined), pausing his work to give you his full attention.

it's now or never. you can either be brave, or you can walk back to the house of lamentation with your tail between your legs!

you present the butler with your creation-- a green and black friendship bracelet-- with a small explanation of what it is. you feel juvenile presenting an ancient demon such a childish gift, but he accepts your gift with a nod and a small smile. barbatos sets aside the gift for the rest of the day, careful that it won't get soiled by the mess of ingredients as he continues his baking lesson.

you assume barbatos has stored in somewhere out of sight-- you'd like to think he cares enough about your feelings to keep it, but you have also never seen him wear it. you're starting to feel like an idiot for even gifting him such a silly thing in the first place. he's arguably the second most powerful demon in the realm. he doesn't have time for a chintzy little bundle of strings from some insignificant human!

you're at the castle one day on another retreat with the rest of the house of lamentation residents. in a chaotic scuffle with one of his brothers, mammon manages to knock an open bottle of demonus directly into barbatos' chest. the butler sighs and begins to take off his coat while lucifer is moments away from tearing mammon into thirds.

as he opens his jacket, you spot it.

pinned inside the front of his jacket is, undoubtably, your bracelet. you recognize that striped pattern from a mile away. you can't forget the embarrassing amount of time you spent toiling away over cheap embroidery floss (not to mention the several mess-ups you had to throw out). you almost can't believe that's where he's been keeping it all this time.

barbatos catches you staring at the bracelet and gives you a small, secret smile. he leaves the jacket open for a moment longer-- it's like he knows, like he's letting you commit the image to memory-- before folding it neatly in his arms. he turns on his heel and walks back to his room before you can react further.

you're a little bummed to see him go. after all, that bracelet was probably ruined in all the liquid-y chaos from a few minutes ago. yet when he returns, adjusting his jacket one last time, you swear you see a flash of green and black string.

maybe it was just your imagination. and maybe that knowing look on his face was, too.

Simeon

you've found the clump of tangled embroidery floss in your closet among things you've brought from the human world. you aren't really sure how it got there, but you've got some free time to kill-- why not try to make one of those friendship bracelets you had growing up?

it starts out in your head as a stupid little joke. who among the people you know here would be the most accepting of a dumb little gift like this?

... simeon, probably. i mean, the guy's an angel. isn't being gracious and kind part of their whole schtick?

as you weave the threads together, you feel yourself get excited. simeon means a lot to you. he's been there any time you've needed him throughout the entire exchange program, always there to lend a hand or a listening ear whenever you so desire. you don't get to see him as much as you'd like, seeing as he lives all the way over at purgatory hall, but you feel you're close enough to give him such a gift.

you catch him after class at RAD one day. you don't have time run by purgatory hall after school, and you're worried if you wait much longer to give him the bracelet, you'll somehow lose or destroy it. when you approach, he's all smiles.

"mc? to what do i owe the honor?"

you ask if you can speak to him alone-- nobody misses the suggestively suspicious look solomon tosses the two of you-- and he leads you to a quite corner of the hallway.

suddenly, this whole thing feels very silly. but, at this point, you've already dragged him away from everyone, so you might as well go through with it.

you pull the blue and white friendship bracelet from the pocket of your uniform and offer it out to him. you explain that it's a friendship bracelet, something that human kids usually exchange as a show of friendship and devotion. you were in the mood to make one the other night and thought he might appreciate it. there. that didn't sound too cringe, right?

your gaze slowly lifts from your hands to find simeon in as disheveled of a state as you. his cheeks are flushed and his face is frozen as he processes your explanation. then a slow, delighted smile spreads over his cheeks.

out of everything to happen today, he definitely did not anticipate this happening. yet he couldn't be more pleased. he gives you his thanks as you tie the bracelet around his wrist-- over his gloves, so he can show it off to everyone, he tells you.

what did you say these were for? an expression of friendship? he's touched that you'd include him in an intimate human ritual like this (it's not that deep, but his smile makes you bite your tongue). would you be willing to stop by purgatory hall sometime soon so he can learn more about it? he loves any story you tell, after all.

you part ways with identical grins and a promise to meet again sometime soon. simeon assures you that he'll take care of the bracelet-- it's very special, you know, since you're the one that gave it to him.

and take care of it he does. every time you see him, he's wearing that bracelet. it looks nicer than the day you gave it to him! you're surprised, until satan reminds you simeon's always wearing white. clearly, he's good at keeping things clean.

he wears a big ass white cloak all day, every day. you think a little bracelet is going to trip him up? nah. simeon values your gift-- the gesture, the time you put into making him the bracelet, the skill it took to make such a pretty little thing-- too much to let an ounce of dirt sully his favorite present.

Solomon

hey, solomon. you want a friendship bracelet?

he looks up from his school work to eye you curiously. you two are on opposite sides of a table in one of RAD's many libraries. you're supposed to be studying, but you got bored fifteen minutes ago and haven't been productive since.

you pull a bundle of embroidery floss out of your pocket and spread it out on the table. a rainbow of colors sits mostly untangled-- you've been trying all day, but some knots are simply too stubborn-- across the smooth wood, and across the materials you should really be studying right now.

got a color preference, sorcerer boy, or am i going to have to give you the ugliest combination i can think of?

he laughs and tells you to do your worst. are you actually going to make one, though? how do you even remember how to do that? he admits he's never actually had one before. you tease him for being a lonely old man. he teases you right back for being a dweeb who wastes brain space on how to make gifts for third graders.

just for that comment, his bracelet's going to be ugly. and you won't even try to make it not lumpy, too. in your face, peepaw.

you get to work weaving the strings into a particular pattern of knots. you've chosen snot green and tree bark brown, paired nicely with a subtle hot pink for a more elegant look. slowly but surely, you start forming the stripes of the bracelet. you can feel his eyes on you, but for once, you decide not to tease him. you're feeling generous today, after all.

when you finish, you tie off the lose end and untape the other from the front of your textbook-- that's certainly the most useful its been to you all day-- with a victorious little smirk. he's still watching you work. you've succeeded in distracting him as well, congrats! it's what he deserves for dragging you into a half an hour argument between levi and asmo last week for no other reason than to see you struggle to keep the peace. karma's a bitch, and seeing this ugly ass bracelet across his wrist will be the cherry on top.

you instruct him to hold out his wrist and he complies. you start tying the ends together, careful not to permanently knot it around his wrist, when--

"wow, you actually made it for me. does that mean we're best friends now? i guess i'll have to brag to those brothers about it, won't i?"

you feel your life flash before your eyes. suddenly, you can hear it in your mind-- seven overlapping voices arguing, louder and louder, for you to make them a friendship bracelet as well. nothing will satiate their jealousy with each other. it's like entertaining a horde of toddlers: a gift to one is an insult to the rest.

oh. oh shit.

you're on your feet before you can speak. suddenly, maybe you don't want solomon to have that bracelet anymore. but he's always five steps ahead of you. literally, in this case, seeing as he's already taken off towards the other end of the library. oh hell no.

you manage to catch up to him eventually, and the afternoon devolves into you (playfully and consensually) bullying each other over the gift.

for all his big talk, he does actually wear the bracelet every day. you think that it's mostly to make you worry that one of the brothers might ask about it-- and that's definitely a big part of why he does it, seeing as he smirks every time he catches you looking at it-- but you think there must be a part of him that actually likes it, ugly color scheme and all.

it's solomon, remember? horrible chef, spellcaster to varying degrees of success, general menace to society. that bracelet is filthy in a matter of days. what's worse, though, is that he also has a terrible habit of breaking or losing it. this would be fine under normal circumstances. no harm, no foul, right? but every three to four business days, whenever he breaks it or covers it in mud or loses it somewhere in the hallway, he's up your ass for you to make him a new one.

what can he say? you're besties, aren't you? that's why you made the bracelet in the first place. now chop chop, mc, his wrist feels naked.

Luke

you visit purgatory hall after school one day, a pep in your step and a bright smile on your face. a few of the brothers question your giddiness as you head out (mammon especially didn't like that you wouldn't elaborate where you were going or who you were seeing), but you make it to your destination unscathed and unfollowed.

when you walk in-- you've had an open invite to visit whenever since the early days of the exchange program-- you spot luke baking in the kitchen. he calls out to you from his spot near the oven and invites you to try this cake he's been working on. barbatos taught him the recipe last week, and ever since, he's been working hard to perfect his version of the dish.

you spend a few minutes playing taste tester for the little angel before you get his attention. you've got a gift for him. the anticipation is starting to kill you, so you'd like to get it out of your hands.

you open your palms and reveal your present: a white and gold friendship bracelet. you explain that it's usually a gift kids in the human realm give each other.

... probably the wrong wording, considering who you're giving the gift to.

"is this because you think i'm a child? now you sound like lucifer! listen here, i'll have you know i report directly to archangel michael, who--"

you let him continue his little rant until he gets it all out of his system. when he's done, looking at you expectantly for some sort of rebuttal, you grin and explain the real reason for your gift. you think of luke as a close friend, and you wanted to give him a gift familiar to your culture that communicates that with the world.

an embarrassed flush spreads over his cheeks as the cherub realizes he might have jumped to conclusions. he sheepishly smiles at you and asks you to tell him more.

you tie the bracelet onto his wrist and explain all your favorite childhood memories with gifts like these. every friendship bracelet, each matching necklace you got with a childhood friend, all of those little mementos of friendships past still sit in a box in your closet. you might outgrow wearing a yarn bracelet (or it might have grown filthy over the years with all your sticky-fingered adventures), but you'll never outgrow the memories behind them.

luke asks if he can see them some day. will you tell him more stories if he visits you at the house of lamentation? you smile and agree-- so long as he doesn't get gobbled up on the way there. now he's protesting again. he's not a child! (whatever you say, luke).

by the end of the evening, you've explained the knotting patterns you used to make the bracelet. luke tells you to watch out-- he's gonna make you such an amazing bracelet, just you wait! you grin, already excited to show off his little creation.

[babygorewhore]

Newlyweds

Mafia AU Rafe Cameron x fem reader

After a dangerous situation, you’re forced to marry mafia boss Rafe Cameron. Someone you went to high school with years ago. And now, you both attempt to make the best of it.

Warnings! OOC Rafe a bit considering it’s a AU. Non graphic Talks of violence, beginning of a universe for my version of mafia Rafe. Male receiving oral! Degrading! He is covered in blood but it’s not readers! Praise! Unprotected sex! Photo in the middle is edited by @rafeyscurtainbangs

Not only was Rafe Cameron your previous enemy from high school, a certified asshole who most people avoided, he was also apparently in the mafia. A fact you didn’t learn until you were forced into a marriage with him weeks ago.

The situation was necessary. A bargain you had to make in order to save your family who owed their rivals a debt.

In order to maintain your and your parent’s safety, you agreed to marry Rafe for status. For protection. You lied to your friends, saying you’d both been secretly dating for a while and decided to get hitched.

It could be worse, you reasoned during moments of anxiety and anger. While Rafe was a dick, he did provide a nice bedroom and bought you a ring that was fitting to your personality. You both were reluctant to this arrangement and so far stuck to minimal interactions.

His only soft spot you observed was in the way he spoke to his youngest sister. Wheezie. He didn’t give her the same cold, sarcastic bite everyone else got. Did you eavesdrop? Yes but you might as well learn as much as possible.

Rafe’s newest peace offering was currently in front of you.

A wardrobe full of new clothes. All your size, tailored to your figure and even specific items used in your hobbies. He didn’t leave hand written notes or explain how he knew what to buy.

You selected a dark dress and a necklace above your heart. Both suited to your body but it radiated a new life. One that promised danger, wealth and power. He insisted you join him for dinner, sending you a nonnegotiable text in the morning. Signed off with a simple, R.C.

The table was already set when you entered the dining room. It was dimly lit and the plates were expensive. The style was clean cut. Newest editions of technology in every corner with a view of the ocean nearby.

Rafe sat at the head. Still in his business clothes but his tie was gone. His shirts and pants were always pristine. His legs were parted, large hands gripping the arms of the chair as he watched you sit across from him.

He looked angry, blue eyes on fire and his jaw twitching with irritation. You weighed your options, crossing your ankles as you toyed with the fringes of the tablecloth. Ultimately, you decided to speak.

“Is everything okay?”

He snorted and his shoulders rolled. Rafe tapped his fingers against the chair, his gold rings shining around his fingers. “Had to handle some business. I’m tired of dealing with incompetent people and family shit.”

You watched as he chewed his lower lip and bounced his knee. You narrowed your eyes and leaned forward.

“Was any of that about me? About our,” You looked for the right word, “situation?”

Rafe gave you a bitter smile. “Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. Couple of people notice how unhappy we look and have big ass mouths. They know we avoid each other.”

“Shit,” You breathe and he nods.

“Yeah. Shit. So, this whole thing is gonna fall apart if we keep this up.” Your hackles started raising but Rafe pressed on, “I mean if we’re gonna do this we might as well…be friends or something.”

That surprised you. His effort to seem calm and logical. You knew it was probably unreasonable to still view him as that high-school jock who bullied Pogues almost ten years ago. Or the fact you were one of the few people who stood up to him.

“You want to be friends?” You parroted and Rafe flicked his hand nonchalantly.

“That’s what I said, right? Look,” Rafe set his elbows on his knees, trying to seem smaller. “I’m not some kid anymore. And as shitty as this whole thing is, I’m trying here. I’m trying to make all this work and take care of everyone.”

Your defenses let down slightly and you acknowledged his point. You raised a glass and held it up in a truce.

“Friends?”

Rafe had a ghost of a smile on his face, a sight that was attractive and he raised his own.

“Friends.”

Two weeks later, Rafe stormed in the house and he was losing his mind. You were out of the shower, still wearing a robe with nothing underneath when you heard the echoing slam of the door. You heard him screaming at the handful of people who worked at the house, ordering security and barking orders that you couldn’t understand.

You removed your headphones, his words muffled by and you stood up to leave your bedroom.

You both made an effort to be friendly, you wouldn’t say a particular bond was there but the terms were improving. Your conversation about friendship looming in the air as you came downstairs.

You searched for him and found him sitting in his office. A lineup of books on shelves, computers and photographs around you. The leather seat was large underneath his body but you were shocked at the sight of him covered in blood.

Rafe trembled and you noticed the gun in his right hand. He stared at you with his nostrils flaring.

“What the hell happened?” Your eyes widened as he tapped the gun against the chair.

“Lot of people died tonight. An investment of ours went wrong and uh,” He laughed but it leaked with rage, “Our common enemy attempted to kill one of my men.”

He had shared the name of one of his partners, someone he spoke about with something close to respect.

“Barry?”

Rafe nodded and blew out a breath. “Part of the deal. People step out of line, people disobey orders or they turn on us,” He glanced at the gun. “And we don’t forgive it.”

He exhaled tightly and met your eyes. “One of em said some shit about you. Said they were gonna kill you. And I shot him without a second thought.” Your mouth parted at his confession.

“You protected me.”

Rafe licked his teeth and laid his head back against the seat. “I protect what’s mine. Anyone who tries to take what belongs to me away, pays the ultimate price.”

His statement gave you chills. You shivered despite the warm robe and a carnal desire ached in your core. The sight of the blood, his spread legs and the gun dangling loosely in his hand made you approach him.

You knelt down, toying with the button of his pants. Rafe looked down at you, his neck straining as his chest heaved at your nimble fingers. You paused and waited for him to give you permission.

“You wanna suck my cock, baby doll? Thank me for what I did?” His voice had a playful tone but he set down the weapon. He set a steady palm on the top of your head as you tugged his pants down.

An urgency overtook you and you hastily peeled down his boxers. You swallowed at the sight of his dick. He was big, thick and the tip pulsed with need as he adjusted his hips. He was giving you an invitation and you gladly took it.

You started off teasing, kissing his happy trail and making your way down to lick the soft skin. Rafe locked his fingers in your hair, encouraging you forward and you sucked his balls. He grunted sharply as you moaned and instinctively bounced on your heels.

You took him into your mouth, the tip shooting precum on your tongue as you bobbed your head and teased him with the rhythm. Rafe began to unravel, his hold firm and he wrapped his hand around your head. He brought your nose to his stomach and you gagged. Deepthroating him as your hands flew to his thighs.

You started running out of air, tears flickering in your lashes and you pulled back. Drool and his pleasure seeping from your mouth. He growled at the sight.

“Filthy little slut. I got half a mind to cum on your pretty face and send a picture to everyone. But I need to feel that pussy,” Rafe hauled you on his lap. Your legs straddling his dick moments before he shoved you down.

Your wet cunt sucked him in, sending a whine through your throat and Rafe groaned the further you sank. He drove his pelvis up, his pace brutal as he smashed his lips to yours.

You tasted the tang of blood on his mouth but it only increased the pressure in your stomach. Rafe’s flesh hit your clit as you bounced, your thigh muscles aiding the movement.

“Mhm, ride my dick. Taking me like such a good girl. You’re so goddamn pretty like this,” He moaned into your mouth and he lewdly licked a stripe up your neck.

Your nipples were painfully hard as you held onto his shoulders and circled your hips. Rafe smacked your ass and wrapped his hand around your throat. Not extremely hard but enough to get your attention.

You cried out a louder sound of pleasure and Rafe wickedly smirked.

“God, you’re so fucking disgusting. Getting off on me choking you?” He scanned your body, watching your tits bounce as you fucked him faster. “That’s it, come on you can do it better than that. Uh huh, you gonna cream on it?”

You wailed as your climax hit you and you shook. Rafe growled, “Open your fucking mouth!” His loud command mixed in with your orgasm made you immediately listen.

He spat in your mouth and gave you one more hard thrust. Rafe’s cum burst into your pussy, your entrance greedily taking in his seed.

He held you as you both came down from aftershock and you caught a glimpse of yourself in a reflection.

His hand left a bloody print on your neck. From his enemies that were now yours.

“Now, you’ve really sealed the deal.” Rafe lifted you up, making your legs encircle his waist and he laid you on the desk. He shoved aside what was in his way and started trailing his lips down your chest.

“You’re such a sweet girl, huh? Rewarding me? Now, you’re gonna let me reward you.”

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @oceandriveab @oceanblvd111 @redhead1180 @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @usergeta @rafeinterlude @rafecameroninterlude @cameronsprincess @sturnioloshacker @stillwjk-channie-lixie @justafangirls-blog

[merakiui]

feel free to delete if this is perhaps too raunchy of an ask!! but how do u think the twst guys masturbate? do they use their hands, fleshlights/onaholes? are they loud or quiet? do they rely on their imagination or sexual material? etc etc lolol

I'm sorry that this is a bit of a sleazy question, but it has been pestering me ^^;;

Nothing is ever too sleazy when it comes to smut. <3 this ask gave me so many thoughts,,,

✧ Riddle only ever masturbates when it's absolutely necessary (i.e. he needs to de-stress and relax or it's a poorly timed erection that won't go away and he's too impatient to wait it out). Sometimes his mind wanders when he's studying. He doesn't mean for it to, but he often thinks back on the day's events when he's settling down for the evening and suddenly you pop into his mind and his brain is working overtime...... orz he uses his hand and lotion/lube and gets off to lewd thoughts in his imagination. It gets the job done. I like to imagine he's eerily quiet because he fears someone might hear him. That, and he probably learned how to do everything quietly after living so many years under his mother's roof. >_< he's biting his lip or stuffing his tie in his mouth to muffle any sounds that may slip out.

✧ Trey does it when he feels like it. All he really needs is his hand and some lotion and he's good. Sometimes he doesn't even use lotion; it really depends. I like to think Trey watches hardcore porn even though he seems like he may be into soft, sweet vanilla things on the surface. Definitely enjoys food play porn. Cater probably gifted him an onahole, and Trey uses it and imagines it's you. Does the trick every time. :) he's quiet, save for the few occasional grunts and groans.

✧ Cater absolutely watches porn. He scrolls through his favorite swimsuit models' Magicam accounts while he's moving his hand up and down along his dick. <3 sometimes he browses the selection of sex toys on his favorite online erotic stores. Although I also think he has a folder full of pictures of you and he looks through those when he's masturbating. You could be fully clothed and yet he's imagining cumming all over that cute, smiling face... depending on the day and how horny he is, he can be either loud or quiet while he's masturbating.

✧ Ace,,,, I want to preface this by saying he absolutely has a cum sock. T_T and you know he'll never tell you which one it is, so never ask to borrow socks from him for whatever reason. Sure, he washes it, but do you really want to use a sock that has been wrapped around his dick more than once in the past? ;;;;; Ace definitely watches porn. He masturbates a lot. Typical horny guy who has sex on his mind often. He's not very loud, but then he's also not very quiet either. He tends to lose himself in the sensations.

✧ Deuce tries not to masturbate all the time, but he can't help it. It's the same situation as Ace: he's a horny guy who gets worked up over the smallest things. A breeze could probably get him hard. </3 you don't know this, but the majority of his hard-ons are the result of you. He thinks of you all the time... things you say and do make him feel so hot. He uses his hand. It's impossible to use any toys in a dorm with three other roommates, and his hand makes things easy and simple. He tries to be quiet (he really does), but he grunts and breathes heavy a lot. >_<

✧ Leona's too lazy to search for porn that'll get him off, so he just sits back, shuts his eyes, and fucks into his hand at the thought of you. Ideally, it'd be much better if you were here and he could sink himself into your tight heat. Leona's a mess when he's in rut. He always tells you to keep away if you know what's good for you because even he's not sure he'd be able to restrain himself if you came into his room smelling so sweet while he's in rut. He's not very loud. Soft groans, maybe a growl here and there, but for the most part he's quiet.

✧ Ruggie does it more often than one might think. It's hard work running errands for Leona. He's got to get some stress-relief in somehow! He doesn't use anything fancy. Just his hand and some porn will do. Most of the time, though, he thinks of you. It's a little embarrassing how hard and needy he gets when he's fantasizing about you. <3 lots of whimpering and soft groans...

✧ Jack does it when he feels like it or when it's absolutely necessary. I feel like Jack often represses his horny thoughts by exercising and working out, so he doesn't masturbate often. The usual hand and lotion combination. It's bad when he's in rut, though. No logical thoughts in his brain. Just the ever-present desire to fuck and mate and breed.

✧ Azul......... my beloved darling. <3 he bought an onahole at the suggestion of a certain blue-haired board game club member and it was over for him. orz I think Azul whines a lot. He's panting like he's in heat. He gets so wrapped up in his fantasies. I don't think he's an avid porn watcher, but then this is because he's picky and has very specific tastes (it's you. you're the specific tastes). In merform, he uses one of those full body onaholes and pretends it's you. One tentacle wrapped around the silicone waist and bouncing it on his hectocotylus. He's definitely broken more than one sex toy LOL. Accidentally filled one of his onaholes with eggs and was so frustrated that it wasn't you. :(

✧ Jade is a menace (part one) because he's a Shameless Freak who is too curious for his own good. Instead of a cum sock, he probably has a jar. He makes it a fun game to see how much he can fill within a certain amount of time lol. Jade's sex fantasies are CRAZY. Sometimes he gets off to porn; sometimes his thoughts are enough to have him cumming into a tissue or his hand (or the jar). He's definitely more quiet than he is loud. In merform, anything goes. Jade's gotten great practice fingering his slit, so he'll use this expertise on you when the two of you finally fuck.

✧ Floyd is a menace (part two) because he does it all. Uses spit, lube, lotion, blood????? It doesn't matter how clean or viable it is; he wants to try it. He's messy with it. Probably has a cum sock as well. Human sex toys are so fascinating to him, so he's willing to sample it all. Whatever catches his interest, really. Most days if he's feeling something quick he'll just use his hand and look at things on his phone. Definitely has vocal range when he's masturbating. Some days he's loud and other days he's quiet. Like the above, Floyd's also down to do anything and everything in merform. You should 100% eat him out when he's in merform. Quickest way to have the eel wrapped around you (literally and figuratively).

✧ Kalim does it whenever he feels like it! He's also curious and wants to try all manner of things. He used an onahole once and was hooked. It's just so great. <3 he's even named it after you. T_T I think Kalim's louder than most when he really gets into it, but other than that he can be quiet sometimes. Not always, though. He throws his head back and gasps a lot when he's on the verge of cumming, eyes squeezed shut as he succumbs.

✧ Jamil does it when he has time. </3 his schedule tends to get busy when he's looking after Kalim, balancing his own life, studying, club stuff....... I like to imagine Jamil gets horny so easily and quite often, but he's the repressed type of horny because he never has enough time for himself!!! When he does masturbate, it's usually just with his hand. He hardly makes any noise, save for the occasional groan or pleasured hum.

✧ Vil does it whenever he's in the mood. It's healthy for the mind and body to masturbate every now and then, so it's not like he's against a little self-care time. <3 he probably sets aside time for it on the days when he knows he'll need some stress relief. Sometimes these things can't be planned for, so a little spontaneity is okay. I feel like Vil doesn't get too complicated with it (that's saved for when he's with you hehe), so he probably just uses his hand. If he's using any sort of toys, he makes sure the material is safe and won't hurt him or his skin. He's also very picky when it comes to toys and other products like lube and lotion. Most days his hand is enough. I think he's the type to gasp. Maybe a low moan here and there. In any case, all of his sounds always sound so beautifully debauched.

✧ Rook......... it goes without saying he does it whenever he wants and can get off to anything and everything. orz especially candid pictures of you!!!! I think he's also a type who is willing to try all kinds of things. He prefers the sensuality of skin to skin contact, so he's more than fine with using just his hand. "As nature intended," he'll probably say. T_T Rook is a hunter who is always so eerily quiet and stealthy. I like to think it's much the same when he's masturbating. Mostly quiet, save for the occasional sound every now and then.

✧ Epel also falls into the category of Ace and Deuce. He's a little sex-brained sometimes. >_< but can you blame him? There was hardly anyone else in Harveston his age and now he's at NRC and you're there and he's just,,,, down horrendous. I feel like he tries so hard to sound "manly" or more mature, but the truth is that he whimpers and whines like he's in heat when he gets really into it. Mainly uses his hand, but I think he'd be curious and buy an onahole for himself.

✧ Idia.......... T_T this one is already self-explanatory, but he's using his hand, lube/lotion, an onahole based on his favorite anime girl, etc. He watches hentai and reads r18 doujinshi of his favorite series. He's probably one of the few twst characters who does it so frequently. Lots of pent-up horny. OTL if you're chatting with him online, he jerks off to your messages. He keeps clips of your voice from the times you VC in Magicord and he replays them while he's fucking the onahole like he intends to knock it up. ^^;;; I think he whines a lot, but then maybe he's good at being mostly quiet when he's masturbating. Either way, he's left breathless every time.

✧ Malleus didn't even know pornographic imagery and videos on cellphones existed, so his idea of porn is probably a tasteful nude painting. Imagine the Renaissance nudes, but Malleus's probably commissioned someone to paint you like that. He's so sexually awkward, so an exposed ankle or shoulder or even an outfit that looks so wonderful on you could get him worked up. ;;;;;; he probably uses his hand, but sometimes he ruts into his pillows/sheets. orz he groans a lot. He definitely visits you post-masturbation and greets you as if he wasn't just picturing you beneath him, writhing and sobbing in pleasure. Post-nut clarity for Malleus is just him realizing you'd be much better than his hand or bedsheets.

✧ Lilia uses and does it all. He loves experimenting. He's always curious and willing to try everything once. At this point the question is: what hasn't he done? Sometimes he's quiet and sometimes he's loud. Sometimes he watches hentai (as per his online friend's recommendations) and sometimes he uses his imagination. He's always finding ways to try new things. Although lately he's enjoyed using your mouth. <3

✧ Silver does it when he's feeling up for it. I imagine he doesn't get horny very often, but when he does......... 👀 he just uses his hand and nothing else, but I'm sure he's heard from others how good certain things are. Silver's so genuinely honest, so I feel like he'd want to know if there's any merit to an onahole versus an actual hole (your hole). Something to try in the future perhaps... I think he can be quiet, but then I also imagine he groans softly a lot!!!

✧ Sebek....... he tries not to, but the horny always catches up to him. He does it more often than you'd think, but he refuses to use anything other than his hand. He's stubborn! Definitely makes a lot of noise and he doesn't even realize it.

✧ Rollo didn't do it much (only when it was a necessity), but after meeting you that changes. He goes from going weeks without touching himself to doing it nearly every other day. You make him feel so insatiably horny. He usually just relies on his imagination, but sometimes I like to picture him reading erotic literature. >:D he definitely relies on his hand and lotion/lube, and he's also another one who is scarily quiet.

✧ Neige does it fairly often! He likes using his hand, but then he also likes using an onahole. He's so obsessed with you to the point where I think you'd be the only thing that can get him properly worked up. He cums to thoughts of you, to pictures of you, to the sound of your voice, to the smell of you, to your clothes... he's so cute,,, definitely the type to whine and be noisy if he's really feeling good.

✧ Che'nya also does it often! He's a curious cat, so he'll want to try all kinds of things. He does it all. His ability to turn invisible makes him great for watching you during private times or secretly groping you in a crowded place and you're completely unaware of his presence hehe. He's also got a vocal range, and it really depends. Sometimes he can be so quiet, and other times he's so loud you think he's in heat.

✧ Fellow....... tell me you can see the vision: room dimly lit by candlelight or something and Fellow's leaning back against the headboard of his bed and he's slowly running his hand along the length of his lubed up cock. Slow and steady, dragging it out, edging himself to thoughts of you! >:D I feel like this is one of his favorite ways to masturbate. He has time. <3 why rush? He's not as loud as you may think. When he's alone, he probably gasps and groans a lot. The type to squeeze his eyes shut and bow his head when he's on the verge of cumming.

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER (day 2)

pairing: kate bishop x fem! reader - roleplay

summary: you and kate go to a halloween party, but your girlfreind might have taken her costume way to seriously

warning: teasing, bad flirting, overstimulation, oral (r!receiving), badly written smut, role play,

word count: 3.5k

an: heyyy! this one is a bit mess at the end, but i didnt want to let you guys without a fic, sooo i apologize in advance

You glance at Kate through the mirror, watching as she adjusts the collar of her suit jacket—she looks undeniably good. She’s wearing a dark, tailored suit with a red tie, Gomez Addams style, her hair slicked back in a way that makes her look effortlessly suave. Of course, she’s grinning at you, like she’s already plotting something mischievous.

“Looking good, Morticia,” Kate teases, her voice low and playful as she moves closer to you, her hand brushing your waist. She gives a slow, appreciative glance over your outfit, her eyes lingering a little longer than necessary. “You’re really pulling off the dark and mysterious vibe.”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your cool despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Thanks, Gomez. You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Kate steps closer, her hand not-so-subtly sliding around your waist as she pulls you towards her. Her lips curl into a smirk. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this party with you looking like that.” She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper, “You’re absolutely killing me.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help the nervous laugh that escapes you. “Kate, we’re supposed to be getting ready,” you say, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. But even as you speak, you’re leaning into her touch, letting her pull you closer. “Kate,” you mutter, trying to sound annoyed, but there’s no denying the way your pulse quickens when she’s this close.

“We are getting ready,” Kate replies, her fingers trailing along the exposed skin of your waist where your dress rides up slightly. “I’m just getting into character. You know, Gomez´s always been obsessed with Morticia.”

You swallow hard, her teasing words making your heartbeat pick up. “I think Gomez might need to work on his timing.”

Kate chuckles, her voice dark and low as she steps closer, pressing herself against you from behind. “Or maybe Morticia needs to admit she likes it when Gomez´s a little… possessive.”

Your breath hitches at her words, the warmth of her body against yours sending a thrill through you. Her soft sweet lips on your neck. You catch her gaze in the mirror, and the playful glint in her eyes is anything but innocent.

“Kate,” you say, your voice shaky now, “we’ll be late.”

Her hands slide up your waist, gripping the fabric of your dress as she pulls you closer, her touch firm but teasing. “You have no idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you when you look like this,” Kate mutters against your lips. “Like you’re ready to kill, and look good doing it."

“Kate…” you whine, your breath catching as her kisses become more insistent. “We’re really going to be late.”

Kate pulls back slightly, her eyes gleaming with that same mischievous energy. “Maybe,” she says, her voice low and full of promise. “Or maybe… we could be fashionably late.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the words get caught in your throat as she dips her head, pressing a soft kiss just below your ear this time. It’s slow, intentional, and it sends a rush of warmth through your entire body.

You shiver under her touch, your hands instinctively moving to her chest, trying to push her away—but not really. She knows you’re not serious about stopping her, and you know it too. Still, you manage to find your voice.

“You’re relentless,” you say, finally pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. You try to steady your breathing, but it’s hard when she’s looking at you like that.

Kate chuckles, her fingers still tracing slow circles on your waist. “Only when it comes to you.”

The way she says it, so effortlessly charming, makes your heart flutter all over again. You narrow your eyes playfully at her. “Fine, two can play this game.”

You slip out of her grasp, taking a step back and giving her your best Morticia-like smirk, complete with a slow, deliberate turn as you adjust the hem of your dress. “Gomez Addams is supposed to be obsessed with Morticia,” you say, your voice taking on a sultry tone as you turn back to face her. “And I think you’re a little too calm for someone who’s ‘obsessed.’”

Kate’s grin widens, her eyes darkening with amusement. “Oh, I can be obsessed,” she says, her voice low and smooth as she takes a step toward you. “Just wait until we get to that party. I’m not going to take my eyes or my hands off of you.”

Your pulse quickens, but you manage to hold her gaze, not backing down. “We’ll see about that,” you tease, though your breath catches slightly at the way she’s looking at you, like she’s ready to tear your clothes down.

She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “I’ll make sure you do.”

The way she says it, all confident and full of promise, sends a thrill through you. Oh how you can´t wait.

But as much as you’re enjoying this, you know you both need to finish getting ready. You let out a soft laugh, stepping back again and straightening your dress. “Okay, enough,” you say, though there’s no real firmness in your voice. “Let’s get going before we miss the party entirely.”

Kate chuckles, but she finally lets go, grabbing her jacket from the chair and slipping it on. “Fine,” she says, giving you one last playful grin. “But I’m not done with you yet, Morticia.”

You can’t help but smile as you both head for the door, knowing that tonight’s going to be full of playful teasing and flirting. And honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The engine hums softly beneath you as Kate’s car speeds down the darkened streets. The city’s Halloween decorations blur by in streaks of orange and purple, but you’re finding it hard to focus on anything outside the car. Mostly because Kate has barely taken her hand off your thigh since you left.

Her fingers, lightly tracing patterns on your leg. Every time she squeezes gently or shifts her grip, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from reacting too obviously. It doesn’t help that every few minutes, she glances over at you, smirking like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Are you nervous, Morticia?” she teases, her voice a low murmur as her thumb strokes the skin just above the hem of your sleek black dress.

“Nervous? No,” you reply, though your voice is a little shakier than you’d like. “But if you keep this up, we’re definitely not making it to the party in one piece.”

Kate chuckles, her eyes glinting with amusement as she looks back at the road. “I’m just driving. Innocently. Hands at ten and two.” Her fingers press into your thigh again, contradicting her words.

You narrow your eyes at her, though you’re trying to keep from smiling. “Innocent, huh? That’s the last word I’d use to describe you.”

Kate grins, her hand sliding just a little higher. “Maybe. But it’s Halloween, cara mia. We’re supposed to be a little wicked.”

This little shit. She knows what she´s doing.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, though it quickly turns into a soft gasp as her hand tightens again, her grip firm but teasing. You squirm slightly in your seat, shooting her a glance. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re not telling me to stop.” You open your mouth to argue, but she’s right, and you both know it. Kate’s touch is intoxicating, and no matter how much she teases you, you’re always leaning into it. It’s a dangerous game, but it’s one you both love playing.

When you finally pull up to the party, the large building is already buzzing with life, lit up with eerie purple and green lights that give it an almost otherworldly glow. The lawn is filled with carved pumpkins, fake cobwebs, and more people in costumes.

Kate parks the car and turns to you with a sly smile. “Ready, Morticia?”

You adjust your long, flowing black dress, smirking back at her. “Always, Gomez.”

She chuckles and grabs your hand, pulling you out of the car as the two of you walk toward the entrance. Even before you step inside, all eyes seem to turn toward you both.

“Damn, you two look…,” a voice says, and you turn to see Yelena walking up with a grin on her face. She’s dressed as some kind of femme fatale assassin—very on-brand for her. “You really nailed the Addams Family aesthetic.”

“Thanks, Lena,” you reply with a smirk. “We figured we’d go for something a little more exiting this year.”

Yelena laughs, glancing between the two of you. “You did a good job at it.”

You nod with a smile as you walk further into the party. The large hall is packed with friends and some random people, all dressed up in an impressive array of costumes. You spot Natasha in a sleek black vampire ensemble, complete with blood-red lips and sharp fangs. Wanda, meanwhile, is floating around in a witch costume, her red eyeshadow giving her a haunting look.

As you make your way through the crowd, people can’t help but comment on your costumes.

“Morticia and Gomez, right?” Wanda says with a grin. “You two look hot—and kind of perfect together.”

Kate beams, slipping her arm around your waist. “Thanks, Wanda. We figured we’d lean into the whole ‘obsessed couple’ thing.”

You feel Kate’s hand resting on your hip, pulling you a little closer as she speaks, and you can’t help but blush. “Yeah, we’re definitely committed to the part,” you add with a laugh, though there’s a teasing glint in your eyes as you glance up at Kate.

“You’re not playing a part,” Natasha comments as she joins the conversation, her eyes sharp but playful. “I think you two are just obsessed with each other, and the costumes are an excuse.”

Kate grins, her hand squeezing your waist as she leans down, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “They have no idea, princess.”

You shoot her a look, but your heart is racing, and you can’t deny the rush of excitement that comes from the way she’s holding you, the way her lips brush against your ear as she talks. You’re both teasing each other endlessly, and it’s getting harder to keep your composure. The music pulses around you as the party grows livelier, but you and Kate are in your own little world. Every time someone compliments your costumes, Kate’s hand tightens around you, or she brushes a kiss against your cheek, whispering something in your ear that sends shivers down your spine.

“You two are really committed to the creepy couple vibe,” Val remarks as she passes by with a drink in hand. “I almost can’t tell if it’s just the costumes or if you’re always like this.” She teases.

Kate grins, her hand sliding up your back as she leans in closer. “Why not both?”

You laugh, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against yours as the night goes on. People continue to compliment your look, calling you two the “perfect couple,” but all you can focus on is how Kate’s hand seems to be permanently glued to your waist, thigh, hip, her fingers teasing the edge of your dress every chance she gets.

As the music pumps through the room, and the lights flash in time with the bass, you find yourselves dancing together, completely absorbed in each other. Kate’s hands never leave your body, and every time you catch her eye, there’s that familiar spark, that tells you there is no other ending for tonight other than your clothes on the ground.

“You know,” Kate murmurs as she dips her head to kiss your neck, “I think we’re winning the contest.”

You shiver at her touch, feeling her lips graze your skin as you struggle to keep your voice steady. “There’s no contest.”

Kate laughs softly, her breath warm against your neck. "No there is not, but if it would be, we would be the winners, princess.” …

The drive home is filled with the same playful teasing that’s been bubbling between you all night. Kate’s hand, once again, finds its place on your thigh, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over the fabric of your dress.

You catch her smirk as she glances over at you, her eyes dark with intent. “You know, cara mia,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with a mix of affection and desire, “I’m not sure I’m done being Gomez just yet.”

You raise an eyebrow, though the flutter in your chest betrays your excitement. “Oh? You’re still in character?”

Her hand squeezes your thigh as she pulls into your driveway, the car’s headlights casting long shadows against the house. “Oh, absolutely,” she replies, her voice lowering to that deep, intoxicating tone she’s been using all night. “And Morticia… I haven’t even shown you just how obsessed I am yet.”

The moment you’re both inside, Kate’s hands are all over you. She peels off her jacket with a smirk, tossing it aside as she steps closer, her eyes locked on yours. There’s something darker in her gaze now—something possessive and all-consuming, like she’s fully embracing the obsession that Gomez feels for Morticia, but in her own way. Her hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against her as she leans in to whisper against your lips, “You drive me insane, Y/N. I can’t keep my hands off you. I don’t want to.”

Before you can respond, her lips are on yours, fierce and hungry. She devours you with a passion that leaves you breathless, her fingers digging into your hips as she presses you back against the nearest wall. It’s like every teasing touch, every heated glance from earlier, has been leading up to this moment, and now there’s no holding back.

“Kate…” you gasp, but she doesn’t give you a chance to say more. Her hands are already roaming, slipping under the fabric of your dress as she kisses her way down your neck.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” she growls against your skin. “How much I want you. How obsessed I am with you.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the intensity radiating from her. It’s as if the line between costume and reality has blurred, and now all that matters is the way she’s holding you, touching you, worshipping every inch of you with reverence and desire.

“I’m going to show you,” she whispers, her voice thick with need. “How much you mean to me. How much I love you… how much I can’t get enough of you.”

And as her lips crash back onto yours, you realize that this isn’t just a game anymore. Kate’s obsession is real, and tonight, she’s determined to prove just how deep it runs.

Kate’s lips move with deliberate slowness, kissing her way from your mouth down to your neck, where she lingers, pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. You can feel her smile against you, that same obsessive, all-consuming energy radiating from her with every touch.

Suddenly your all naked in your bed, Kate on top of you. Her mouth moves lower, she takes her time, savoring each inch of your body. Her fingers brush softly along your sides as her lips trail kisses down your chest, her touch both tender and possessive, like she’s memorizing you. You shiver under her attention, your heart racing as you feel her shift lower.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Kate murmurs, her voice thick with emotion as she looks up at you, her eyes filled with love and something deeper—something that makes you feel like you’re the center of her universe. “I’m obsessed with everything about you.”

Her lips brush across your stomach now, slow and reverent, as though she’s worshipping you with each kiss. The feeling of her mouth on your skin is overwhelming, the way she’s taking her time, drawing out each moment, leaves you breathless.

You arch slightly into her touch, the warmth of her body pressing against yours, and you can feel the love and devotion in every caress. Kate looks up at you again, her eyes dark with intensity as she whispers, “I want you to feel everything… I want you to know just how much you mean to me.”

And then she’s kissing her way lower, her lips lingering on your skin with a mix of tenderness and desire, but there’s no rush. Everything about her movements is slow, deliberate, as if she’s savoring every moment, every reaction you give her. You can feel the love in every touch, the way she’s so completely focused on you.

Every touch, every kiss, leaves you trembling, your heart racing in your chest as you feel completely surrounded by her. Kate’s devotion, her obsession, it’s overwhelming in the best possible way, and you find yourself lost in the moment, completely consumed by the way she’s making you feel.

“I love you,” she whispers again and again, her voice soft but filled with intensity as her lips return to yours, sealing the moment with a kiss that feels like both a promise and a declaration. “I’ll always love you.”

That´s where her eyes turn to black, you can see her fall into the obsessive character fully. She smirks and with last kiss to your lips, she moves back down. Eating you out like the world is ending in a minute. She is always a goddess in the bed, but tonight? Oh how you wish to have Halloween every single day.

As you try to close your legs, she immedietly pins you back down, her strong arms holding you open, so she can work on her art. Devour you as much as she can. And she is doing amazing job at it. As always.

"Oh- Kate!" You moan louder than ever.

She nods, but she doesn´t pull away like the usual, she keeps going. Smirking as you realize what is her goal.

And before you can think you´re cumming, "fuck- Kate!" you try to wiggle out of her hold, but you know it´s lost fight. Kate is holding you very strongly and she is not pulling away. Bringing your second orgasm quicker than expected. "No- no- please- god!" There is no way her mouth is skilled like this-

And you came again. And again. And again.

Time has become a blur, the edges of the night slipping away as you lose track of everything except the way Kate makes you feel. You don’t know how many times she’s brought you to the brink, only to pull you back, leaving you breathless and trembling. All you know is the warmth of her skin, the gentle press of her hands, and the overwhelming love she pours into every touch.

Finally, when the world seems to slow down, you both collapse into the soft embrace of the bed, your bodies tangled together, completely spent. The only sound in the room is the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing, punctuated by the occasional rustle of the sheets as you shift closer to each other.

Kate lies beside you, her arms wrapped around you protectively, pulling you against her chest. Her fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, her touch soothing now, a stark contrast to the intensity from earlier. Her lips find your temple, pressing soft kisses there as you both bask in the afterglow of the night.

“I’ve lost count,” you murmur, your voice a soft whisper in the dim light of the room. “How many times did you…?”

Kate chuckles, her breath warm against your skin as she kisses your cheek. “I stopped counting after the fifth,” she replies, her voice low and filled with affection. “I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I love you. How much you mean to me.”

You smile, turning your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes are soft, filled with that same obsessive devotion that’s been there all night, but now it’s gentle, almost tender. She leans in, brushing her lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

“I’m serious,” she whispers when she pulls back. “You’re everything to me. You’re my fuel, Y/N. You’re the reason I get up in the morning, the reason I push myself so hard. You keep me going, more than anything else.”

You close your eyes, sinking into her words, letting them wash over you like a warm embrace. Kate’s love, her devotion, it’s overwhelming, but in the best way possible. It fills every corner of your heart, leaving no room for doubt or uncertainty.

“I love you too, Katie,” you whisper back, your voice thick with emotion. “So much.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!!:)

[nocturnowlette]

Hypnotic triggers, just like everything else with the hypnosis community's understanding, is limited and flawed.

In general, when people do not understand how something works, they will imitate those who did it before them and ultimately give importance and distinctions to things that are arbitrary.

A hypnotic trigger, just like any psychological trigger, is an A, a stimulus, that causes B, a recalled stimulus. Neither A nor B need to be reinforced but are useful to do, most especially B.

Triggers are also not stronger than regular suggestion, they are just more convenient and more compressed. You create a concept in someone's head, a Thing, and associate effects, ideas, and feelings with it, so you can then have someone recall all of those effects, ideas, and feelings without needing to completely re-explain it. It is not unlike learning any other concept and its meaning. You are creating a new definition for what some stimulus means.

You could generate the same effects, if not stronger ones, without a trigger, but condensing it all into one moment is inherently useful and can lead to a myriad of possibilities, which can ultimately add up to more than the sum of their parts. Time and timing is important in hypnosis, and triggers save it.

While the "B", the effect, does not need to be conditioned (for any subject a somewhat competent hypnotist has any experience with, you should be able to prime the A and B with a single sentence and have it work at least moderately well), it is much more useful to condition it deeply. Triggers do not really atrophy if someone did an even somewhat passable job of conditioning, but it does need to be refreshed before use via priming and evoking the necessary ideas in the subject's mind.

The more the subject's mind needs to work to interpret something you've said, the more they will be taken out of that state where they're being guided. If the first time you use it in months isn't set up and as such doesn't work as well as it used to because of the need to process it, the subject will be convinced it doesn't work as well, and then it will actually have lessened effects due to the perception.

As for the "A", the trigger phrase, it is hardly necessary to actually have a deeply installed one outside of the effects of expectation and general structure you operate your subjects with. I even have a test to demonstrate exactly this, for experienced subjects only.

Trance itself is a conditioned idea that is then triggered. An experienced subject has the concept of Trance in their head: its effects, its ideas, and its feelings. It is always a limited conception of what trance is, but it is the reference point for what hypnosis is to someone. Most times, when a drop trigger or a fast sink into trance is done in any way, the subject is effectively triggering themselves with a stimulus A to reach the generalized stimulus B of trance itself. Memory recall is what brings someone down, and it does not require a traditional trigger to work.

If you are an experienced subject, I want you to try something for me. This is called the Orange Test. Ready?

Oranges are hypnotic now.

Think of an Orange.

If you have begun to find yourself sinking into a light to moderate trance, you may realize how utterly arbitrary all of this is. Your mind knows what trance feels like, and some magic ritual of the right words is not what is needed to access it.

Oranges are no longer hypnotic, in fact, they wake you up. Think of an orange again.

The thing is, you don't even need to tie it to any concept in particular.

Just remember what trance feels like. Focus on the idea. You might find that you can go into trance all on your own, skipping the line from A to B through initiating memory recall yourself.

This principle of memory recall is generally why I do not use drop triggers or anything a person has pre-installed. These fictional misunderstood boundaries the hypnosis community makes up have a self-perpetuating nature, one where someone being convinced of them creates a "pass or fail" state in their brain.

If you don't follow these correctly, you are doing hypnosis "wrong", and they are taken out of trance. It is why the first thing I do is educate someone, and why the second is to softly take down every barrier they have. Beyond that point, their mind is a fresh canvas, and not one with the lines painted for me by those who believe that canvases just come that way.

Painting by numbers is convenient for hobbyists, but limiting for anyone beyond that.

[opultea]

Reasons to Keep a Spare Hairtie

Gaming x Gender Neutral Reader

No pronouns - Romantic - Drabble - Fluff

Word Count: 550

“Aw, man!”

You turn, curious and surprised. Gaming hardly ever acted so down. As you turn on your heel, you can’t help the puff of laughter that escapes your lips at the sight of his usually neatly tied hair covering his face.

“Trying something new?” You tease, approaching to inspect the issue. Gaming blows air through his lips, lifting a brown tuft from his face momentarily.

“Ha ha,” He laughs dryly, before giggling sincerely. “My hair tie broke. And of course I left my headband at home today, so I guess I’ll just have to make do,”

You hum in consideration, secretly taking a moment to admire the way his hair drapes over his shoulders and forehead when down. Although, you did miss seeing the red undertone that was made visible by his usual style.

Watching Gaming try to tuck the fluffy hair behind his ears felt like watching a puppy try to find its way out of a big blanket. Cute, but very much making you feel obligated to help. Each time he managed to clear his face, the fluffy stands would pop back in front of him within seconds.

“Turn around,” you say warmly, tracing a loop with your forefinger to indicate the motion. Gaming stares at you for a moment, evidently wondering what for. However, it doesn’t take another second before he relinquishes control, turning so his back is to you.

You push his shoulder lightly until he sits down on the stone ledge under him. Gently, you scoop the soft brown hair from around his neck and face and pull it back into a ponytail.

Your fingers don’t linger long enough to feel the heat that erupts from his cheeks.

“You’re lucky I have a spare hair tie on me. With how fluffy your hair is, you’d look like a lion by the end of the day,”

“Yeah, lucky,” the dreamy quality in his voice catches you off guard. Promptly, you distract yourself from the skip of your heart with the task at hand.

You find your hands slowing more than necessary, and you take your time brushing your fingers through the fine strands of his hair. Briefly, you wonder what his hair might smell like. You scold the thought before you bury it.

You step around to face him once you let yourself finish, smiling as you admire your handiwork.

"There, now you can see, and you don't look like a mop," Gaming chuckles and rubs the back of his neck bashfully at your joking.

"Wow, thanks! It feels pretty good, and I bet it looks way better than what I do for my day-to-day," He carefully feels around his head to appreciate your work. "Hey, let me treat you to dim sum! As payment for your expert styling skills,"

"Gaming, you've paid for my dim sum the last three times, just let me pay already!" You try to argue as you follow him but know it's practically useless.

"Nope! You worked hard and you deserve a reward!" He's started into a light jog now, and you know that if you let him get ahead, he'll order and pay before you even arrive at the restaurant.

Speeding up, you feel a smile lift with the butterflies in your stomach, and as you run after the beaming lion boy, you can't help but wonder if he feels the same.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Chemistry

Inspired by art from @/jackthepeeper here

Rated: Mature | Warnings: Richard calls reader 'princess' but still gn (trust me in none affectionate way), reader calls Richard 'dick'

Richard Sterling is the classic beautiful knight, the sort to save a princess from a high tower guarded by a fearsome dragon. It is undeniable his beauty, storybook to the letter, yet you find yourself unable to trust a pretty face like most do. Most ladies would think you are being too cautious, clearly you should be swooning and falling over him. It is made to seem like something is wrong with you, which you are not going to feel about! Father says to trust your instincts; trust and verify.

Richard Sterling probably sees you as the princess in need of saving, Florian did too, but you are quite clear that his assistance will only be called upon if necessary.

As one who practices the art of escape as, once the great Houdini did, you have not always needed rescuing.

Jose Baden and you have come up with plenty of ideas of how to use your talents combined when dealing with the most difficult hunters to contain. A bit of confusion can do wonders against those like Ivy or Percy.

You are not sure Richard— Dick, you call him when he gets on your nerves— Gets it, yet your luck has been shit as he has been saving your ass far too much. Jose had thought he could tease you about it but you make it very clear to him to stop.

This last match would have nearly cost you if he had not stayed behind to save you from Discipline. It was risky but it got a tie.

“There is no need for thanks,” Bowing, “After all, any princess needs a knight.”

“Not a princess or prince, pretty boy.” Florian has a hero complex, easy to deal with. Richard, you think would be the same way but there's something off. Heroic deeds yet it is like he is playing a practiced role. Florian at least wants to save people though he seems to get off on it. Fucking weirdos all in this place, at least they put their differences aside to survive.

“My apologies for assuming. It could not be helped given your current circumstances of late.”

“We all have bad days… or weeks.” Mumbling with this pleasure, “Just have to go practice.”

“If you are in of company—”

“William is already joining me.” You cut him off, “See you whenever.” Going to the left of the intersecting hallway and heading to your room.

“Farwell, princess.” That last part is said with a sly smirk.

All of your lockpicks have been used, Jack is relentless, and Night Watch is quick with chairing. Duo hunters are always a pain in the ass to get through as certain hunter combinations make or break a match.

Both Jack and Night Watch's abilities are a great combo and there are only four remaining survivors…

The Knight is containing the hunters as they decide to tag team against the newest survivor. You use this opportunity to save Luca and Lucky Guy from their chairs, Luca has the crowbar but the dungeon location is a mystery currently on the snow version of the Arms Factory map.

You could leave Richard, he has helped you but he a dick about it as he calls you “princess”. Luca pings no dungeon where he went to and Lucky Guy pings the hunter is on him.

“Evening, princess.” Richard finds you decoding in the factory, you see the hunters did a number on him before both hunters saw Lucky Guy who shot Night Watch with a flare. Merc's armbands will only get him so far. “Might I request a touch from the fair nimble-fingered princess?”

“Ew, why do you talk like that?” You hate his laugh that makes him wheeze in pain, “Stop that. Here,” Handing him Demi’s Dovlin you bought, “Drink this it will help the pain.”

“Wine? Rather unwise to be inebriated in our current situation.”

“Dick, it will heal you. I don't know how but does so fucking drink it!”

“As my princess wishes. Perhaps after, we could enjoy a glass of wine later?”

You stare at so long enough to fuck up the cipher for a second, “Get us a win and maybe I will entertain that.”

Holy shit… A tie… You cannot believe the… Lucky Guy and Luca are cheering while you are completely flabbergasted. A two-person kite and the dungeon were found just in time.

Dick got his dinner and wine because that win was impressive. The dinner was added because you want food with your wine.

You figure dinner in the sunroom is safe. Though private and often reserved for tea parties, at night you found it to be the best spot to gaze upon the stars.

“Princess,” Dinner and wine, “There is no reason to shy away.” It makes you both too bold and stupid.

You have slept with Florian. He is attractive and you are weak for a man in uniform. Slept with Mike too, he made you laugh your first week here. Made out with Mary during a Valentine's Day celebration. In short, you are not surprised you are on the floor with the pretty boy playing knight. Without the vest, his blouse partly open, and his tight pants not leaving anything to guesswork; his is gorgeous.

“I'm not shy. You're just so much.” You open his shirt as he takes off his trousers and shoes. “A lot much.” Your fuzzy brain from drinking is not giving you the ability to form proper words or find the right one. You are not the type to drink, socially you drink rarely, so your tolerance is low. Especially given the vintage is from Antonio's secret stash he tries to hide in the wine cellar.

The food helped until the night grew longer and longer, more cups of wine poured, your inhibitions lowered, your tongue loose— There is an old saying ‘loose lips sink ships’ and boy was your ship sinking.

Richard seems to be able to hold his liquor, you envy him, he is so pretty and… Your mind is too fuzzy to figure out who leaned in first for the kiss.

By now, you both are on the floor near the large glass ceiling, two bottles empty, both glasses fallen and rolled somewhere, and both sitting under the stars. Romantic.

When he kisses you, it is the perfect kiss, you are swooning a bit. Perfect then demanding with his tongue in your mouth, his hands on your face keeping you in place so he can steal your breath.

The escalation was so close from how his hands wandered and groped you; your hands tugging at his clothes yet there was not much you could do in your current state. The kiss is hot and heavy, and you swear you are ready, then he stops. Not panicking or pushing you away abruptly, he is gentle and lays you under him.

“Richard?”

“As much as I would enjoy ravishing you,” You have no idea how he can speak so clearly with two bottles in both your systems, “However, I would much prefer our night of passion to be recalled not forgotten.”

And in the most gentle way, he did not sleep with you that night.

Princess. You hate being called that. You are no princess or prince in need of a knight. You see yourself more as the jester who struggled to amuse the crowd unless you were escaping impossible odds— Life-threatening ones often. Yet, to Richard, you are a princess running away from impossible horrors and narrowly escaping.

The a few ladies like him, a few of the guys, and you still believe under that facade is a dragon rather than a knight.

“Princess?” Answering the door surprised to see you there. The only visitors he gets usually is Vera (he likes her perfumes) and occasionally Margaretha (stress relief), and maybe Evelyn for a nightcap.

Here you are looking crossed with him, he does not resist when your hand touches his bare chest shoving him back, this allows you to enter his room and slam the door behind you.

“If you are looking to manipulate me into some alliance with you, well, you're a dumbass. Alliances will not help you. We have to all work together if we are going to survive this.” The rant is long as you jab your finger against his chest not noticing how he is allowing you to vent until you are out of words. You glare and then look down seeing where you are touching the knight.

It might not have been the best idea to corner him in a nice room that smells of perfume and is well organized— You pull your hand back realizing your hand is on his partially exposed chest. His usual fencing vest and sash are gone, his undershirt open making him look like a damn male lead of a romance novel cover.

You look away then point to the closed door in the heat of your anger about how things were different between you and him (he had even been in your room helping you with your hangover), you came upon him at an inappropriate time, “I uh, bye.”

“Wait,” Grabbing your hand and for the first time since that tonight over a week ago, you can feel his bare hand. “My apologies for being so forward; it lead to this miscommunication.”

You hate how eloquent he speaks, Norton might be rubbing off on you.

“You are correct about me seeking something from you, princess. We were close to it, however, it would be wrong for a gentleman to take advantage of a princess at their most vulnerable.”

“... You can just ask me for sex.”

He laughed, “How crude. Though I suppose a blunt request would have caused less stress.”

You roll your eyes, “Dick—”

“Richard, (Name).” His hand traveling up your arm, “I wish to bed you. If you wish, perhaps we can share our desires often with one another.”

You hum, “Friends with benefits?” Thinking it over for a second,  “Alright.” Not like there are strings attached or love involved.

Chemistry is just as vicious as love.

Desire can twist infatuation into obsession.

Sex with Richard is amazing! You were so sure the man was gonna chivalrously vanilla, not there is anything wrong with that but you have your tastes and thrills. Florian liked it when you poured candle wax on him, Mike liked how playful you can be, and Mary adored it when you let her use her mirror shard to slide against your skin (never cutting you). Richard is… Very experimental.

When his hand is wrapped around your throat; when his usual gentlemanly demeanor switches to this sadistic man who wants to break you; the fact he is thankful after the rough sex he takes care of you— Thinking about right now as you walk to your room is making you giddy.

You love it when he uses his sash to bind your wrists or use it as a leash, your next favorite is when he has you wear his helmet so you can not see making it partly difficult to breathe. It thrills, risks, and you both feel alive.

Sex is sex, the highly stressful situation and often traumatic matches, you find for a few hours it keeps you from attempting to set the manor on fire. It is a tool and the chemistry between you both is perfect. There is no love, Richard is a decent guy but not someone you can picture yourself in love with.

Even when the sight in your bedroom is him wearing his underlings and blouse, the seductive look of a promised bliss. The invitation of his finger beckons you to him.

And you go to him all too willing to have an hour or two of escapism, to pretend you are not in some hellish manor, to have your thoughts halted and voice made horse from saying his name rather than from terror.

“Good princess.” He is going to ruin you within these four walls, strip you bare, ravish the princess in need of saving.

[authorhjk1]

Lewd thought of snsd otp 9 with mommy femdom kinks please

Taeyeon

Taeyeon is a gentle mommy. As long as you do your best to satisfy her, there aren't really any downsides to it. She can get a bit demanding sometimes, but she cares about you as well. She makes sure that you cum inside, everytime she fucks you. When she only lets you eat her pussy, she always gives positive encouragement, sometimes a compliment here and there. Taeyeon doesn't like to punish you, but when she feels it's necessary, be prepared for her to ride and drain you, until you're a whimpering mess, unable to move, while she keeps going.

Jessica

Jessica is similar to Taeyeon. Or at least that's what she wants you to think. She gaslights you into believing all sorts of stuff. As long as you satisfy her, she won't be mad. And she always tells you it feels way better when she has an orgasm. For the both of you. Your release isn't as important. Whenever Jessica just uses you, until you break, she cups your cheek with one hand, while she rides you, her tone soothing and caring.

Sunny

"Don't listen to your mind, baby. You can take more, trust me. Just make mommy cum and you'll know how good it really can feel."

While Sunny acts cold most of the time, she still like to be worshipped. She enjoys it so much, when you start to beg for sex. She makes you wait, until she herself can't hold back anymore. But once she starts, everyone will see whom you belong to. The day after, your neck, is marked with hickies. Your cheek is still slightly red from where she slapped you a little too hard. And your lip finally stopped bleeding after she bit down on it too hard, while she was climaxing.

Sunny liked to use you and she doesn't really care if she brakes you in the process.

Tiffany

Despite popular belief, Tiffany isn't soft or caring at all. She always looks sweet and innocent, not able to hurt a fly. And often, you're the one in charge in and outside the bedroom. But when Tiffany comes back home after traveling, or when another woman looks at you a little too long, she turns bad. She keeps you awake the whole night, reminding you of whom you really belong to. Tiffany often likes to tie you up. To the bedposts, or the table, or the chair. And then she rides you, plays with you, hurts you, until only her name leaves your lips.

Hyoyeon

Hyoyeon likes to toy with you, when you're blind. A blindfold, a tie, or even just putting a pillow on your face. Whatever it is that makes you vulnerable. You flinch whenever she suddenly touches you, not knowing what's going to happen next. Sometimes she just lets her fingers roam your body, or she uses ice cubes. Occasionally she even uses candles. Everytime she puts something over your eyes, your as excited as you're scared. She might suck your cock in one moment and let hot wax fall on your naked skin in the next.

Yuri

Yuri likes to watch you. She makes you sit on the bed, while she sits in a chair in front of you.

"Cum for me."

She would look at you with a cold gaze, watching how you admire her fully clothed body. You're not aloud to see her naked yet. When you finally cum, chest heaving heavily, Yuri stands up. She walks up to you and sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Again."

She makes you cum, until she is satisfied. Once you're completely drained, she strips in front of you.

"Now, make me cum as often as you just came."

Sooyoung

Sooyoung likes to put you in your place. Usually with words, even in public. But with with actions as well. Sometimes it's just something casual. When the two of you leave a restaurant: "Let's go, boy toy." Or when she is horny in the morning and already straddled you, before you're even fully awake: "Good morning, hot stuff."

But Sooyoung likes to make use of the saying "actions speak louder than words". That's why calling you names isn't enough for her. Sooyoung is a squirter. And she loves to cum all over your face, showing you that you're hers and your place is at her pussy, eating her out, until her juices drench your face.

Yoona

Yoona can switch it up really fast. One moment she is loving and caring. And the next she wraps her hands around your throat, ordering you to make her cum right then, on the spot. And there is no middle ground either. She likes it when you get a little rough too, but usually, you pay the price for that later.

Most of your days start with gentle kisses. A smile here, a laugh there. And then Yoona rolls herself on top of you. Giving you even more kisses. Eventually she reaches your crotch. Your eyes fall shut again, when she works your cock. But before you can cum, Yoona is suddenly sitting on top of you. Both hands on your throat as she lowers herself onto you.

"Be a good toy. Don't cum until I give you permission."

Seohyun

Seohyun likes to show you off, while acting cute and innocent and loving in public. Whenever someone points out a hicky, she acts all shy, embarrassed that someone might think she isn't all that innocent.

But as soon as the two of you are alone, Seohyun let's go of the good girl facade. She tells you how it turns her on that people think she is innocent, but in reality, she is making you scream her name every day. In public, she always gives you the sweetest smiles. And in the bedroom, her smiles are dark and drenched with lust.

[obsessedwrhys]

Hi!!! could you make a headcanon of valen with fem merlin please? I've been searching and there's almost nothing ;; thank you also for making the headcanons of other characters ♡

|| VALEN DATING HEADCANONS ||

ᯓ★ just lots of fluff, reader is fem!! (I'm glad you like my other work ☺)

Despite his good looks and the rumours told by the villagers, he's actually inexperienced with love. He's constantly busy with his duties so he never really felt it was necessary to be in a relationship.

That was when he met you and oh boy did he fall head over heels for you HARD.

At first he didn't think much of it and simply just saw it as a task by Hogan to protect you, but the more you guys spent time together, the more he enjoys being by your side.

He was in denial the moment he realised he had developed feelings for you but he also couldn't deny what his heart wanted. So eventually he just chose to go with the flow.

His behaviour wouldn't change drastically but he does seem to develop a few traits when he came to the conclusion that he had a crush on you.

His eyes would linger on you longer when the group discusses on a topic, his brows relaxed as he's giving you the heart eyes.

And how he was always the first person to check up on you after every battles, making sure you weren't hurt anywhere.

He would also notice little details about you. How you seem to rub your arms when you're awkward or play with your hair when you're bored.

There was this one time he noticed you shivering a bit on the cold night so he offered you his cloak/cape, you thanked him which made his heart swoon but his face hid it with a simple smile.

When your group made it back to Holistone after your eventful journey, he was quick to treat everyone with drinks. It was there where he confessed to you.

Scenario ↴

Everyone had left to chat with their friends and he found you drinking alone at your table. With the opportunity in his hand, he slide into the empty seat beside you.

"You're alone, where are your chipmunk friends?" He'd ask with his arm rested on the chair and the other on the table.

"They left to check out the market" You'd say with both your hands wrapped around your glass.

He eyes your face for a while as he tries to think of the right words to say. He gulps but tried to cover it up by pretending to clear his throat.

"I uh—"

"Your face is red"

"Huh?" His eyes widened, but when he realised there was no way out, he ended up relaxing his face with a defeated sigh.

"I guess nothing bypasses the magister. Not even a knight's feelings..." He'd smile warmly at you when it was your turn to be flustered.

The second you guys started dating, it was huge news to the villagers. They were curious how you managed to catch his eye when all of the women have been trying their hardest to get his acknowledgement.

Some even made up rumours that you might have used a love spell on him.

Throughout the relationship, Valen would definitely be affectionate. Expect lots of flirting and corny jokes.

"You’re so beautiful that you made me forget my pickup line"

"Valen go to sleep..."

He's also very open with PDA, nothing too extreme though, just simple things like holding hands and kisses on the cheek or forehead. He just loves to see you smile.

I have a feeling that since you two are dating, it would be easier for Valen to figure out you were Merlin. He wouldn't be mad that you hid it from him but rather he understood your reasons for it. Also, he wouldn't say anything about it until your secret was revealed by Mirael.

He'd just stand there with his hand on the handle of his sword, completely unfazed because what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't know that first??

Once your secret was out, expect him to ask lots of questions about your magic.

Like can you give a cat wings?

How does it work?

Could you make him 1 inch taller?

The first time he saw you use your magic outside of battles was when you used it to tie your hair. It baffled him but he had to admit it was fun to watch.

Thats why he would always stare at you all excited whenever you used your magic to do simple tasks. His excuse for his behaviour being "How can I not watch when you look so effortlessly gorgeous 😚"

His petname for you is Dove and this is a headcanon I will defend with all my heart.

He picked the name because he always found doves romantic, the name was easily decided the second you brought love into his life.

I just have a feeling his kisses are playful most of the time but when he's really serious, it'd be the most breathtaking kisses you could ever experience. His hand will always find its place behind your back when you two share the moment.

He definitely adores it when you kiss him too, especially on his cheek where his scar is. He also likes it when you trace your fingers across it because it always help him relax. Your gentle touch soothing his soul from a bad memory.

One more thing. He becomes more protective over you. Not in a bad way though, he knows you can defend yourself with your magic but that doesn't mean he's not gonna try to protect you from the enemy.

He doesn't care if the person is bigger or stronger than him, he'll still draw his sword.

After every fight, you'd always tend to his wounds and even through your complaints at his recklessness, he'd still look at you with genuine love in his gaze.

"You're such an idiot"

"A charming one right?"

He shows you off A LOT. I'm talking like crazy lot. Every conversation he shared with anyone, he's always gonna talk about you several times. It drives Hogan crazy, don't get me wrong, he's happy for you two but he can't seem to get his lovesick head to function.

I make him sound like he's crazy about you (which he kinda is) but it's just he's really proud of you. He's so very supportive of you!! He might even have Chippy and Hammie beat at being your number one fan.

Like hello??? My girlfriend is saving the world here 🙄

Of course, he's a very understanding person. If there's anything you're uncomfortable with, just talk it out with him and he'll make sure it won't happen again.

Now for dates. He likes to take you to the most prettiest spot of Holistone or any places he knows. You guys would just spend time chit chatting or cuddling.

Your personal favourite was when he had managed to plan a picnic for you two on a hill, it was adorable watching him cut the food into smaller slices and then feeding you, it was his way of giving you the princess treatment.

Well he is a knight and it is his duty.

Since he's very affectionate, he can also be a tease. He likes teasing the height difference between you two. He finds it adorable.

"You're so small. Are you sure you're as the myth foretold? The mighty merlin? So cute..." He'd stroke your hair with a smile.

I feel like he'd teach you some skills to defend yourself just in case. He knows your magic is powerful but he's not gonna risk it, not when it comes to you.

The lessons would mostly be basic hand-to-hand combat. There was this one time you managed to beat him in a friendly duel and even though he was going easy on you, he was still proud of you regardless so he showered you with compliments.

Another thing I'd like to add is that he secretly write poems dedicated to you. He's too embarrassed to share them with you so if you ever found out, he thinks he'll actually dig a hole and bury himself alive. He'll only share ONE poem with you once he finishes rereading it for the 19373th time and making sure it's good.

By the way, this man can get jealous. He doesn't like seeing Lorsan get too close to you. Half of the times he'd actually cross his arms without even realising when watching you two talk. You always laugh at his behaviour which he does not appreciate.

"What are you laughing at? I don't see anything funny about it..."

Also did I mention how he smells like white musk?? You know like those scents that you smell and you just feel so in love??? Yeah that.

Honestly... 100/10 BOYFRIEND!!

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [BEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN] ❞

request by lovely detailing anon pairing: spencer reid x reader. summary: a date for your brother's wedding brings you more than you could ever hope for. content warnings: i think none, but feel free to tell me! very fluffy stuff ahead though. word count: 1,1k+

the first thing you told your mother when she began yapping about how you needed a date for the wedding was that she didn't need to worry, you got your girls! surely one of them would have an eligible bachelor to accompany you. you had the girls from work, two from college and even your sister-in-law could definitely help you out without the obnoxious interference of your mother.

sadly enough, as the ceremony got closer and closer the more spectacularly did the blind dates fail you. you insisted with the bau girls you did not want anyone from the bureau, emily tried with an old friend who worked in politics. completely boring and in severe need of a model trophy wife his parents approved of.

pen tried to set you up with some guy she met doing theater, he was fascinated by your job. too fascinated, like you were some character of a play that he needed to analyze, and if that wasn't bad enough, the ones you were set up by your civilian girls weren't any better, they were in fact worse. trembling the moment you told them you were an agent.

"i'm going alone, won't tell my mom that though." you finish the conversation leaving the reports from the last case on your desk. i'ts saturday morning and fortunately, you were back in time for your brother's wedding, no chance to skip it and blame it on work for this and already running back to the elevator, asking spencer to hold the doors for you.

"i can be your date, for the wedding, i mean." his voice sounds almost nonchalant, if not for a bit higher in pitch. you feel your face warm up at the idea, surely if you had enough courage in your personal life as you showed in the field, you would've asked him months before, but apparently fate was on your side.

"really? i don't want to disturb you, i—" you shake your head softly, trying to be less avoidant, you wanted him to go, he offered to go. "i would really like that, actually."

"i'm happy to. this way you're at least guaranteed someone who isn't afraid of fbi female agents." the way his shoulders shrug up and his nose moves in a soft crunch makes your heart swell. "historically bridesmaids were to dress the same as the bride to deceive evil spirits—" he's interrupted by the elevator doors opening, but you both keep the same pace as you leave the building, wanting to keep talking to each other. "though surely you won't be dressing in white, what color are you wearing should i match my tie to it?"

"that's very thoughtful, spen." too thoughtful even, you might just swoon if you don't control yourself. "it's black tie required for bridal party dates actually, is that okay?"

"i can arrange that." even if he didn't have a black tie attire at home already, which he did, spencer would rent one if he had to, he wouldn't be happy about it, but he would do whatever necessary.

his eyes glance from your dress to your fidgeting fingers a few times before speaking up. "you're nervous." he knows that's not the first thing he should be saying after seeing you all dressed up, but he can't help it.

"oh—sorry, i'm just worried about my family meeting you." you didn't even think about your choice of words, not paying attention to the way it made spencer flinch, his smile falling instantly.

"do you want me to be less... me? i can try." eyes widened up, you shake your head quickly, hands going to his chest in what you believed was a comforting manner.

"i want them to be less... them. you're great, perfect even. they can be kind of rude, that's all." perfect even. his smile quickly comes back to his face, placing his own hands over yours with a squeeze.

"unrelated but, you look great, perfect even." his repeating of your words makes you laugh, spinning around to show him the full look before thanking him. he looks stunning, dashing even, but you feel like the way your eyes can't look away from him for long might show him that.

you were right to be worried about your family, a bunch of drunk alpha males who didn't believe the work you did in the fbi weren't the most friendly bunch to spencer, but he had his fun responding to their jabs with knowledge and sarcasm, checking your reactions every time and always getting a laugh in response.

your mother seemed to like him though, saying you two were a great match, which you tried to deny, shrug it off since you two were just friends and you somehow knew your mom would like anyone you took as long as you didn't show up alone again to a family event.

as he held you close to dance, spinning you around and making you dizzy from all the champagne, and as his hands stopped at your hips to look at you, you wished to yourself you truly were a great match, and that he felt it as much as you, and the saw it as much your family saw it.

by the end of the night he was the one holding your heels, your bag and your scarf while calling a taxi to the venue to pick you both up. happily laying your head on his shoulder the whole way back to your apartment.

spencer had to accompany you back into your place, he wasn't about to leave you by the building's entrance or the elevator, it was only reasonable to help you all the way through.

for you, it was only reasonable to ask him to spend the night, your couch was comfortable enough especially after a whole night of dancing and walking around trying to keep up with you. it was only reasonable for him to accept it.

"hey spen..." you had gone to your bedroom to find anything comfortable for him to wear, coming back only minutes later, still dressed up. "thanks for today, i had a great time." you say handing him the pijama bottoms you thought could fit him.

"i always have a great time with you." his hands brush lightly against yours and you feel a shiver down your spine, gluing your eyes to his in hopes he felt it too.

in a second he's placing his hands on your neck, kissing you with lust of at least months of yearning, taking your breath away and making you enjoy the lack of oxygen and control. you don't even have to think about reciprocating it, no hesitance, like you have been always at the ready for it and you bite his lower lip the second he tries to pull away.

"i always have a great time with you too." you whisper waiting to have an even greater time with him, the smirk on his lips showing you he hoped for the same.

[mcflymemes]

BARBIE (2023) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i'm definitely not thinking about death anymore!

i've never seen this kind of malfunction.

am i being too technical?

if you ask me, you're responsible for this, too.

to be honest, when i found out the patriarchy wasn't just about horses, i lost interest.

i just gave you a choice so you could feel like you're in control!

how will i get back?

this happened once before.

i just don't want to leave!

you'll be such a hero to them!

i feel appreciated but not ogled.

i hate it when people think. i'm so bored.

the faster i figure this out, the faster we get home.

i'm not pretty anymore!

humans have only one ending. ideas live forever.

you're so beautiful.

how come you're so amazing!

i worked very hard, so... i deserve it!

you're the voice of a generation.

this makes me emotional, and i'm expressing it.

i got us both ice creams!

i think you have that the wrong way around.

how much of that did you see?

let's get you up on your feet.

you should heal up in no time.

this night is just perfect!

please call my mother.

i thought i might stay over tonight.

does the label "long-term long-distance low-commitment casual girlfriend" mean nothing to her?

i'm great at doing stuff.

it is literally impossible to be a woman.

we always have to be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.

never forget that the system is rigged.

find a way to acknowledge that, but also always be grateful.

it's too hard!

i'm just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself in knots so that people will like us.

i was arrested for tax evasion.

i smell like basement.

what are you doing here?

did you bring your rollerblades?

i literally go nowhere without them!

do you guys ever think about dying?

i'll play the guitar at you.

yeah, i'm... confused about that.

it's like i've been in a dream where i was really invested in the zack snyder cut of "justice league."

can i talk to a doctor?

i need a clicky pen.

somebody get security.

i've never seen the godfather.

every night is a boy's night.

i just don't know who i am without you.

i only exist within the warmth of your gaze.

i'm just a little blond guy who can't do flips.

you guys aren't doing patriarchy very well.

men hate women and women hate women. it's the one thing we can all agree on.

you don't have your license.

you can be brainwashed, or you can be ugly. there's nothing in between.

she's not dying, she's just having an existential crisis.

i'm sensing some kind of ententre here... and it appears to be double.

who am i to burst their bubble?

you use your imagination!

you can ask me any question you want.

[delicrieux]

…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. spending a week taking care of fushiguro... how bad could that be?

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. swearing wc. 5.2k author’s note. in this story, we use first names in text when reader feels emotionally connected to the person xoxo and that's on stylistics

ੈ ✩‧₊˚

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CHAPTER 10: fushiguro megumi's week-long suspension

“i can’t believe it has come to this…” you utter, squint, and try seeing past the unrelenting glare of the july sun. gojo, always nearby, kicks a pebble, looking much more like an elementary kid rather than the one you are going to pick up.

moody, blushing, shoulders slouched and head hung; he says nothing because he tried saying something five minutes ago when you repeated yourself, but a sharp look and a displeased pinch of your lips made him promptly shut up. where was this deference when he was making your life a living hell while you begged him to leave you alone? at this point, you might tell him to jump and he’d land on pluto, if only you weren’t glaring at him anymore.

you shake your head and tut, “absolutely unbelievable.”

“oh god, please, spare me,” he grumbles, shoving a hand out of his pocket only to offer it to you.

you examine it. unappealing, “sweaty.”

the way he instantly scowls at you could be adorable, if you weren’t so irked. your bingo list for the summer, or ever, really, didn’t include attending a parent-teacher conference about an unruly seven year old that’s not even yours. fushiguro megumi keeps breaking toys and beating up his classmates – detention, teacher’s notes (which gojo did not read), extra homework, and a one on one with the parent (which gojo did not attend) did not work. a public trial is all that’s left, and even this would have slipped through gojo’s fingers. the notice arrived a week ago, but gojo neglected to check his email, and he missed the whole of 5 calls before yaga-sensei was informed of his outstanding failure as fushiguro’s legal guardian.

you shake your head again, almost closing your eyes – it’s too bright and too hot, and you think you hear the sidewalk sizzling, and maybe this is one of those days you shouldn’t be outside at all, “still can’t believe it…”

you wouldn’t be doing your duty as a concerned citizen if you weren’t even attempting to guilt-trip him into oblivion. you had plans today anyway, namely melting into your mattress or heaving by the conditioner, but he has ruined them all by asking you to come along. why didn’t you just say no? maybe because he looked especially miserable.

maybe because…

*

"here, give me that," your fingers curl over his tie, straightening the knot and smoothing it out. the inside of fushiguro’s school is thankfully cool, "is this really necessary though?"

"how do i look?"

"well...good?" your answer doesn't satisfy him much because he reaches for his hair and runs a hand, as if that will do him any favors. it doesn't. you wince and adjust the strands.

"like a respectable adult?" he is still wearing his shades, a necessary evil in the afternoon sun, even within these pale walls.

"that's a stretch."

he frowns, "not helping. the hell, i dressed nicely and everything,"

"not sure how a tie and an untucked shirt is 'nice' exactly, but okay,"

"you are so bossy," gojo has a small, pitiable expression on his face, and he's got it bad. he'd better; there's a ton of disgruntled parents lining the corridor of the conference room, and though this doesn't involve you in the least, they stare a little too hard as if you're the problem. you find you can't meet anyone's gaze directly.

"anyway," you squeeze his forearm, which feels nice – soft, his muscles yielding under the fabric – "keep it together,"

he doesn't, really, "this blows.”

"will you keep it together?"

"you're going in with me," his knuckles rap a rapid, anxious beat over his knee. he is seated and not happy, and you can't help noticing how big he is compared to the other men milling in the room, but most of all, how stupid and incompetent. it makes your heart patter in your chest.

"didn't agree to that. why do i have to?"

"because," he glares, "i'll tell them you're the mom."

he's lost it. your arms cross and your brow flattens. you take a few seconds to regard him before giving your answer.

"satoru, don’t they know you're, like, a step-dad?"

"i'm the dad that stepped up."

"seriously?"

"technicality."

"you pay the utility bills," you whisper back, annoyed.

"i'll tell them it's your biological child if you don't go in with me," he threatens.

the tips of his ears have turned a telltale pink, and even he notices, ducking his head and leaning further against the wall. when his leg won't stop bobbing, and he keeps the nervous tapping going, your heart sinks, "satoru," he really has you hook, line, and sinker, because you falter faced with his obvious distress. you didn't expect him to be this nervous, since he's always so carefree, "you..." he looks so very uncomfortable and unhappy in his white button up, which is a bit crumped, mind you, "oh, what the hell. fine."

"thank god."

the faculty makes an appearance, but not one person recognizes him. a brief discussion and introductions later, the room is emptied save the offended parents, the teacher, you, and gojo.

adults can be scary, but your job involves cursed spirits, and those are much scarier than a disgruntled salaryman will ever be.

what is more terrifying than a cursed spirit or a perturbed father trying to lynch gojo with his glare is a scorned mother. you try to not shrink into yourself as she points an accusing finger, as if you've committed the crime alongside fushiguro, "explain yourselves! what kind of parenting is this!?"

if you were sweating before, well, now you're really sweating. you and gojo share a quick, worried glance before the faculty intervenes to give an account of fushiguro. she must have some kind of hearing impairment because she yells, "young parents these days, treating their children so dismissively!"

it would be highly unadvisable and probably a very bad idea to mention the circumstances by which gojo is legally fushiguro's ward, or the fact that he's neither your biological son nor your son at all, and luckily, gojo is smart enough not to disclose any of that. no, what he says is so much worse, "i can assure you that we provide all the attention and care in the world for our son!"

it takes your mind a second to fully comprehend that, yes, he has, in fact, said 'we' and 'son' in the same sentence, and then his hand comes to clutch and yank you painfully over so that you're sitting half on the edge of his chair, "tell her!"

and the room falls deadly quiet for a few moments, which you use wisely to consider: first, kicking gojo right where it counts, and second, bolting for the nearest exit.

the silence is stifling, "err... yes, we take care of him."

"are you even out of college?!" the woman is flaring red with anger.

this isn't exactly your proudest moment, or his, and you can feel your legs shake, and how is it possible that gojo's arm, slung around your waist, is steady and strong, "we're not, but we're, we’re doing the best we can."

when the hell did you become so willing to dive into danger for a man? you'd never met such a troublemaker, and yet, here you are, listening to gojo tell the concerned parent in a voice far more confident than it had been just seconds ago, "you need not concern yourself, ma'am. we take care of megumi every single day and provide a nurturing, homey, and responsible environment for him. and we also love him very much. he and his sister. which we love. right, dear?"

and that’s your cue, “yes. my children. very well behaved.”

"he broke my son's nose!"

"did he deserve it?" gojo quips.

"no!"

he sighs. you eye the door longingly.

"i'll pay the medical bills."

*

the heat's less severe when you leave. a suspension.

with fushiguro safe and collected from his classes, the three of you stroll back to jujutsu technical. gojo lets him lead and you lag, half embarrassed, a third disinterested, and two thirds disheartened that you're now seriously involved with someone like gojo satoru, that this is your life. god, that whole experience was so bad, and his word vomit was the cherry on the shittiest cake you've had in a long time.

you are still, quite frankly, mortified. you know that gojo was talking out of his ass because explaining the real situation would actually make it look even worse than a case of young and stupid parents, but it somehow unnerved you greatly.

this is none of your concern. or it shouldn't be, at the very least. but it's making you consider the distant future and wrangle with the question of – do you want to get married? do you want to have children? such a line of thinking is unacceptable for many reasons, namely that you don't, and you're young, and you'd rather not die with any false hopes in place, because it's likely you'll never reach past your mid-20s and be with someone you actually would want to start a family with.

the city is hazy and humid, the people around appear sluggish. a vendor sells a bunch of sweet watermelons by the street. gojo stops to buy some slices for the three of you, and fushiguro accepts his reluctantly.

then, he marches onward, gloomy as always.

"megumiiiin," and gojo is right on his tail, wiggling his fingers in what's supposed to be an invitation, "let's hold hands."

"no."

"come on, i got you a week-long vacation," he insists.

"it's a suspension!" you hiss, chewing.

gojo glances back. shrugs, "eh."

fushiguro drags his feet, his chin tucked into the front of his uniform's collar, black bangs shifting messily and sticking over his eyes, "m'not apologizing."

"don't, you got good aim," gojo says wisely.

fushiguro offers gojo nothing else to say. the awkward and mortifying experience is, for him, nonexistent. he doesn't know what happened behind those doors, and he shouldn't to preserve his innocence.

for the remainder of the walk, he trudges forward without uttering another word, or without once turning back. the way he's sulking and putting distance between you, however, makes the unpleasant feeling linger a bit longer than it should, though there's really nothing you can do.

once he's already making his way to his temporary lodging, you call out, "ne, megumi," and his footsteps cease immediately. he turns about and stares expectantly, "do you have any plans for tomorrow?"

"...no."

gojo watches you with sharp interest as you try not to bend under the pressure of both of their gazes, "well," you try, sounding a bit shy, "in that case, would you like to go shopping with me? i could use the company."

silence. the awkwardness from the earlier meeting hangs heavy, until fushiguro seems to recover and crosses his arms, mouth set a little firmly, "i have to finish my homework."

what a horrible excuse.

"we could visit the arcade and get slushies," you say, feeling a bit more confident since he seems to be cracking.

he narrows his eyes, considering his options. then, with a very pronounced scowl, "is he going?"

gojo perks, having been slouching listlessly with a grimace, "oh! me? sure, i'll be there," he even beams, the prick, while fushiguro gives him a deadpan stare.

"oh, no no," you try to rectify quickly, "satoru isn't going," and you jab your elbow into his side, sunny smile and all, "you're busy tomorrow, remember?"

gojo frowns. then he pouts. then, he looks annoyed. but finally, he looks away and says, "yeah, right. i am. totally forgot. so busy."

"figured," fushiguro hums, shrugs a little and says, "sure."

"awesome," you grin, feeling somehow very lucky, "it's a date!"

"not a date!" gojo declares.

fushiguro stomps through the door, his entire demeanor shifting entirely from apathetic to downright irritated, muttering, "you two are weird."

and then he's gone. the door creaks shut behind his small frame.

"it's a date?" gojo parrots, giving you a look.

"oh, don't be mad. it's just fun teasing him," you smile a little sheepishly, tugging him along to the direction of your dorm room.

he matches your pace, steps becoming slower. his arm is warm around your back.

*

“you don’t offer to hang out often,” coming from fushiguro, it sounds less of an observation and more like a thinly veiled accusation. you give pause.

true to your word, you have taken him to get slushies and some light shopping after a stop at the aquarium, which he enjoyed the most because it was quiet and the room felt never-ending.

for a kid, fushiguro is too perceptive, too grumpy, too. you hadn't expected that your presence could be missed, or even desired, since it was so rare to see him when he wasn’t on college grounds. with his sister still at summer camp, he doesn’t have anywhere else to stay. the two of them living alone with semi-regular visits from gojo is already wildly weird and unsafe, and leaving him by himself in the apartment was out of the question.

maybe you should have invited him earlier. he must be so lonely.

"mm. s'always busy with jujutsu studies," you tell him a bit shamefully.

a tic twitches underneath his eye. he finishes his cherry-red drink in two long gulps before taking you up the escalator to his favorite candy store.

you hold his palm. he grips tight but releases hastily as though embarrassed the second the mom and pops duo in their late fifties make a aaaw sound at you two. you almost throw your electric blue slushie at them – the workup to this very moment had been nothing short of arduous. the old man and woman look absolutely infatuated.

you will have to try to sneakily hold his hand again, under the pretenses of safety or whatever, even if you’re fairly certain fushiguro would beat up a kidnapper if it ever came down to it.

he dives straight for the large jar that has the 'bullet gums' printed on the container. he holds it up, and somehow, he's more of a little kid than the angry gremlin he usually is in gojo's presence. you have to battle with yourself to not fish out your phone and snap a million pictures.

"so cute..." you mutter under your breath.

you don't think it reaches his ears until his forehead wrinkles into an offended scowl, but he doesn't say anything as he goes on picking and tossing the good ones in his basket.

"how much money do you have?" fushiguro looks at your purse suspiciously.

you’re a bit affronted – maybe he and gojo do have a lot more in common than anyone would suspect, because this child has just called you poor.

"ehh, don't worry,” maybe you should be worried for the future generation and their manners, “satoru gave me his card, so you can buy anything you want.”

fushiguro scowls. he sets down the bulging bag on the floor beside him, and looks away from you, "...i don't want anything."

you blink and peer at the selection of items. it will likely be a hefty sum, but nothing too egregious. fushiguro picked his candy with care, and you note that it’s mostly sour things.

“but it looks tasty,” you say, and you mean it, even if you prefer sugar on sugar atop liquid sugar.

“no.”

you ponder for a second what might have made him so upset so suddenly. you hum. time for some mathematics. fushiguro hates gojo, gojo is sponsoring this outing, which, maybe, somehow equals fushiguro wanting to spend time with gojo, hence, fushiguro is grumpy and probably wants to go home.

you feel like 2 + 2 = 5 since you’ve uncovered one more piece of information.

well, this is a problem. you raise an eyebrow. how does one deal with an upset seven year old? you think you’ve been doing good so far, but it’s only because fushiguro was in a good mood and somehow tolerable of your presence. suppose you'll have to play by his rules. suppose you can do that, or at the very least try.

slowly, you take the bag. then, you extend your hand to him, "we could try maxing out satoru's card – doesn't that sound fun?"

he furrows his brow and looks like he's having a bad idea. slowly, hesitantly, his tiny palm comes to land in yours, fingers slotting, and then you are both making your way to the counter.

the next spot you visit is a bookstore.

"do you like reading?" you inquire curiously.

a shrug. you assume he's shy, so you let it pass, instead picking up a few manga. they seem popular these days, and maybe you’ll actually have some free time to read it before missions swamp you and you’re off to battle curses in the muggy heat.

meanwhile, fushiguro chooses a coloring book and a plethora of new, shiny markers.

"looks cool," you say.

"yeah," he agrees, and he seems happy. you would really like to take a picture right about now, but you swipe gojo’s credit card instead. you and fushiguro share a pleased look.

when you visit the food court, it’s already buzzing.

"let's get something to eat," you suggest. he nods, "pizza?"

"yes please."

you notice him getting a bit anxious when a large group of people move in front of the two of you, and without a word, your push him closer to your body as you shield him. he stiffens, but doesn't ask you to let go, and leans his head into the comfort.

that's sweet. too sweet. you resist the urge to melt down. god, this kid is growing on you like fungus. you can't believe how happy you are to be spending time with him. that this is actually happening, and you're not imagining any of it. you almost regret not doing this sooner. you feel stupid for being scared and skipping out before.

you might even, and this you find startling, put yourself through the whole ordeal with the parent-teacher conference again. only this time, you might be the one screaming and pointing fingers. what a cute kid.

when the person in front of you finally vacates a table, you squeeze into the tight space, but not before flagging down the server.

"is it just me, or does today feel like a celebration?" you ask him in the attempt of stirring conversation.

his bored eyes wander around, perhaps not finding the occasion anything special or remarkable. but then, with a nod, he says, "i guess."

that's as much enthusiasm as he's going to allow himself to show, and that is completely fine, you decide. you don't need him to pretend for the sake of pleasing you. you're just happy to be here, and you can't wait to tell gojo all about this in great detail. he'll be so jealous.

*

yes, gojo can get any michelin star meal delivered within the hour if he’s persistent and snooty enough. he might also be able to import something from korea in the timeframe it took you to decide on what to eat if fushiguro so much as implored he wanted anything. the real problem is that fushiguro does not want to eat anything touched by gojo’s hands or credit card – the outing being the only exception, as that was done with malicious intent to scam gojo out of more money than was necessary – and you think it’s not healthy to have a growing kid survive on the instant noodles and snacks you purchase from the convenience store.

the cafeteria food is alright, but it, too, lacks the nutrition needed for strong bones and a healthy immune system. you also were unable to find the allergens or a basic ingredients list on the food served there, and the cooks you inquired were suspiciously tight-lipped about it, which only left you pondering about what exactly you have been eating for the past three years.

that, and fushiguro seems to be missing his sister lately, who, apparently, made him food, or made food alongside him, but your newfound big sister instincts send you into a frenzy even imagining this child next to a sharp knife. he is way too independent. when you think of yourself being his age, you think your childhood was much more carefree.

a homecooked meal it is. only problem is that you’re not a great cook, and whatever you made you could only serve yourself because it was just mediocre enough to teeter on the scale of enjoyment, if it could be called that.

still, you were wrestled into an apron by a pest named gojo satoru, who dons a matching one but avoids the pots and pans and stays by the television with fushiguro, as he was made aware that whatever he touches will be promptly thrown into the trash.

you chop, and stir, and haughtily avoid the counter where you were propped up to be devoured by the same man throwing his head back and cackling at some painfully unfunny late night tv show. you catch your reflection in the sharp blade of a knife and pause for a moment.

so this is my life now, huh?

as expected, neither the presentation nor the actual food is up to fushiguro’s standards. it’s evident by the way he skeptically pokes the mess on his plate with his fork. the noodles are too crisp, the broccoli – burned. you might’ve gone overboard with the seasoning, and yes, you can wrangle a curse into submission, but you cannot prepare a decent dinner.

you wait for the verdict with your hands curled into your apron, like some maid about to be scolded by a temperamental prince.

when a minute passes of just examination, you thread carefully, “ne,” fix your best smile, tilt your head to the side even – this is beyond humiliating. nothing gojo has put you through could ever amount to the small curl of queasiness on fushiguro’s mouth, “how about we order food in?”

“i’ll pay!” comes gojo’s enthusiastic agreement. he even waves the remote around, like it’ll summon something delicious on the coffee table just like that.

fushiguro, faced with this unprecedented cheerfulness, stabs his dinner and eats without a word spared.

you stare. no, this can’t be good, you might give him food poisoning, “no, really. let’s order something edible.”

fushiguro chews thoughtfully before he answers, “…it’s edible.”

“liar!” gojo accuses.

“shut up!”

well. it doesn't go too badly, and after a while, gojo puts on a nature documentary as a peace offering, while you wash the dirty dishes and keep sending worried glances to a now placid fushiguro who dutifully finished his meal and has moved on to polishing the bowl clean.

and you can't help the sudden onslaught of fondness that fills you up as the warm water from the sink hits your fingers. this is oddly nice and comforting. it reminds you of the dinners you had back home, only they never were this late and you always pouted when having to wash your plate and utensils.

"eh," you almost drop the soapy spatula; your head ticks to the entrance of the dorm kitchen, and you see shoko leaning by the doorway before the smell of cigarette smoke reaches you. her eyes jump from your apron, to gojo sprawled on the couch, to fushiguro neatly folding a small towel, "feeling a bit left out. what's going on here?"

oh no. you feel your face heat all the way to your forehead. how incriminating, how do you even begin to explain this strange and off-putting development of your relationship with gojo?

maybe you should have told her as soon as it happened, but you didn't know how.

you wanted to, though. each time you meet shoko’s gaze, you had the overwhelming urge to come clean. you can’t phantom how criminals can lie to the police with a straight face, because you’re having significant trouble. what’s worse, it always felt like shoko knew anyway, somehow; that that information breached the kawakami-gojo bubble and bled into the common knowledge pool.

shoko always seemed so suspicious, and in this case, for good reason. now, suppose you don't have to explain anything at all.

gojo points at you with this thumb, "she can't cook for shit, you know that?"

"oh, yes," shoko hums, pleased, "know it too well. i won't need to use reverse on you, will i?"

"nah," he drawls, "think i'd eat that drivel? i'm not suicidal."

"hey!" you bristle.

fushiguro frowns and glares at the tuff of white hair peaking over the back of the couch, "it wasn't so bad."

and your anger vanishes, just like that. your honor has been defended by an seven year old, and now it's just a matter of having to bear with shoko's probing look and the telltale curve in her smile.

"ah, well, if megumi vouches for you, then maybe you've improved," shoko says sagely.

gojo snorts in clear disagreement. fushiguro scrunches his brow and purses his lips.

*

there’s definitely something somewhere written about proper bedtime, but being with fushiguro has made you sentimental about your childhood, and you recalled sneaking around at night to watch tv and having too much energy to sleep, even when you were tucked into your favorite blanket with your favorite stuffed toy under your armpit and read your favorite story.

so you take him to a pastry shop at near closing time, and smile particularly sweetly at the disgruntled cashier who just finished cleaning up. you feel a bit bad, but alas – a tasty treat is a tasty treat, and what is more, everything’s on discount, so you spend a generous amount to make sure fushiguro and you have enough to snack on all the way back to jujutsu tech and then some.

you also got some for gojo, despite how brattish he can be. the only reason he didn’t follow you here is because fushiguro had forbidden it, but even now, you’re not sure if you aren’t being monitored.

fushiguro bites into his colorful fish cookie and chews. the sky is already dimming, but there’s still plenty of people out and about, enjoying their summer. he keeps close, but doesn’t reach for your hand. you hadn’t been able to achieve your initial victory at the start of the week, but maybe you still have some time.

“you’re leaving for a mission,” he says after a pleasant silence, blunt as always. you try remembering if you were this honest when you were his age. certainly, you must’ve been more tactful. when your gaze flits to fushiguro, you find him disgruntled, an expression reminiscent of gojo when he doesn’t get something he wants.

it’s starkly similar, actually. a father that stepped up…

“it’s only for a few days,” you tell him, keeping your voice light in an effort to appease him, “i’ll be back before you know it. with souvenirs, too.”

a tic creases his brow as he seems to give the offer some serious contemplation. a couple of moments pass before, with a sharp huff, he mumbles a sour, "do as you like."

you manage a patient, "look forward to the present, hm?"

he is very stubborn and says nothing but chews with a little more fervor.

"maybe you want something specific? or would surprise be best?"

you hear a short sound of exasperation at that, and a shake of his head.

"no... you can choose, nee-san."

you nearly collapse. fushiguro, no, megumi, megumi hasn't ever been so malleable before; the things this boy has been doing to your heart must be against the law. it’s too precious, and so sweet it makes the glazed cinnamon bun grasped so tightly between your fingers taste bland. how could you ever recover? is it even worth bringing it up? just how much does megumi truly care about you to call you something so tender?

you have to swallow a disgusting ball of coo for the sake of everyone, namely megumi, who seems especially irritated, “…how about a plushy? or a phone accessory? satoru said he bought you a nice new model.”

your efforts do not go unnoticed. there is a gleam in his eyes, and his cheeks flush in pleasure.

"can..." his tone lowers, quiet, almost timid, "can i choose when you're back?"

there isn't a bone in your body strong enough to decline that.

"of course," you smile, "tell me when i should come back and i will."

a pair of small fingers come to grip your sleeve, hesitantly, shyly.

"the sooner, the better," he mumbles, glaring at the sidewalk, "so... be quick."

*

“’s stupid,” gojo grumbles, making himself comfortable on your bed instead of helping you pack your suitcase, “why you needa go, anyway?”

not him, too. christ, why are they ganging up on you?

you sigh, folding a sweater. it’ll likely be too warm to wear it, but you’ll take it just in case, “cuz yaga-sensei told me to?”

“coulda said no,” he answers stubbornly. you pause to stare him down.

if not for the sunglasses, he would be giving you the same look as megumi; a bit less angry, more passive aggressive.

he presses, the smirk fading, a sharp edge to his voice, not quite biting, not yet, "wanna stay and fuck a bit instead?"

god. the word makes your spine crawl with something familiar, or rather, a mix of emotions that is indescribable and difficult to disentangle; something close to exasperated fondness, perhaps.

but you shake your head, the weak protests die out on your lips, and he rolls over, sated, like a cat that had gotten its cream, "...you sure?"

"stop trying to seduce me," you snort, ignoring the lingering glance directed at your back.

"then you'd really miss your train."

"satoru."

"right, right..."

"go be annoying somewhere else."

a heavy exhale. you don't dare to turn because you hear the mattress creak and his footsteps drawing nearer.

the warmth envelops you easily, his hold is lazy, his mouth is by your ear, hot breath sending a shiver up your nape, "mean. and here i am, all ready and eager."

but his fingers linger on the waist of your shorts, just above the material. it's a small touch. noninvasive. you can feel him holding himself back.

"...'s gonna be too cold," gojo continues, quietly. he isn't helping, his nose nudging your hair, a soft kiss pressed below your earlobe, "in bed without you. who will i cuddle now?"

oh, damn him and the things he does and says. and that honey sweet voice of his, teasing you.

but you won't fall for his tricks, "well, it won't be forever. you won't even notice i'm gone."

and he laughs. like he's telling himself not to show his irritation at you dismissing him so easily, "always notice," he mumbles, or maybe he doesn't, because he kisses your cheek one more time before he disentangles and plops down onto the mattress again, "anyway, megumi wants to escort you to the train station, so expect an entourage."

you ponder who would be more clingy: gojo or megumi.

*

it's gojo.

tags (couldn’t tag in bold!). @shokosbunny , @jotarohat , @alygator77 , @fortunatelyfurrygiver , @finnydraws , @mastermasterlist1p1 , @eolivy , @letsmyy , @staruus , @k0z3me , @damnshorty , @kaeyakaikai , @n4melesspers0n , @midnightwriter21 , @sillymercury , @byakuya61085 , @stillnotherapy , @mydearchoso , @plutoisaghoul , @byerno6 , @bqvz , @harryzcherry , @noira-l ,

[kuroppiii]

     day by day ᵕ̈           husband!timeskip!kuroo tetsurō x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..��₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : little moments from your ⋮⋮  daily life with your silly little husband

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🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ this is like word vomit but pleaseee he plagues my mind , i ' m clawing at the walls of my enclosure ( not proofread !! ) ”

um yeah so congrats to timeskip!kuroo for being able to live his best life

an even greater life with you in it, of course

because although he swaggers along in his little suit and tie handing out his card willy-nilly to god knows who all day,,,

you bet your sweet ass he’s got a picture of you in his wallet

and that wallet is constantly getting whipped out around the office as he looks at your smiling face

looking longingly and with a little lovestruck sigh

(he’s so dramatic)

he has your drink order on lock and will pick it up coming back from work

but he is the type to take a “sip” out of your cup in exchange

(half your drink’s gone after that 🙁)

he “needs help” tying his tie like every other morning

“y/n love of my life can you help me with this”

it was cute

like the first couple times

maybe not so much at the twentieth time

at this point you just tell him to do it himself so you don’t have to get out of your bed bc you know what he’s trying to do

"have you ever considered trying a clip-on tie, tetsu?"

but granted, whenever you do cave, it’s impossible to miss in the corner of your eye the way his eyes are filled with pure unadulterated admiration as he watches you tie the stupid tie

(it was never about the tie)

(he just needs to look at you before he has to go the work where he can’t look at you like this until he comes home later that night)

and sometimes when he gets home he really tries to take up making dinner some nights to give you a break

he even wears a little apron (your apron) over the wife pleaser and boxers he’s so accustomed to changing into upon arriving home

(really not necessary but you two watched the bear together one night and he’s really just trying to get into it with the apron)

he looks ridiculous but you hate to admit you find it so adorable

"can someone get me a fucking sharpie, that fucking works!!!"

"i'm sorry for cursing at you babe, i don't even need a sharpie, i was just saying the thing from the thing–"

the best he can do is like cold noodles or the occasional steak dinner which really aren’t that bad when those are on the dinner menu!!!

when it comes to everything else? well... yeah he’s better off without the apron

but make him lunch for the office? oh he’ll propose to you a second time right then and there next to your fridge

put the cute character cutouts in there too, as if he cares what his coworkers might say bc anything you touch is gold to him no matter what

“ok but where are your guys’ carrot flowers, huh? don’t eat your veggies? have you ever considered that what you should actually be concerned about, is that you’re not eating as balanced of meals as i am every day?”

part of me wants to say when all is said and done, you two share a bottle of wine or smth under the night sky together to wind down

but honestly i don’t think a moment with this man necessarily calls for being a little buzzed like that

he makes you laugh simply by how he talks about his day, and with his little comments and reactions to whatever you may tell him about yours

"some people may wonder how he got demoted from a coordinator position–but y/n, honey, if you saw the way he parallel parks on the street outside our office, you would agree he's very much lacking in the skill of coordination."

"wow, i can't believe she treated you that way. and you're sure she knows the 'h' in 'hr' stands for 'human', right? because she sure isn't acting like a good one."

"😧 ..."

it’s like your home becomes your own personal comedy-club to round off yet another day with the love of your life

with the sounds of both of your laughter mingling together in a solemn late-night harmony only ever truly appreciated by the both of you

and when you two finally head to bed

his arm can’t help but snake its way around your waist

"g'night my love..."

pulling you close and breathing in your scent as you both get lulled away into a deep sleep

all to repeat everything again the next morning <3

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 5/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

A/N: I think we are staying on track for this to wrap up within two more chapters, but again, we are both in the dark if that's the case😂 Thank you guys for the love! If you are wanting to be tagged, please send me an ask. It's a lot easier for me to keep track of who's been added and who hasn't :)

_________

Y/N’s POV:

Okay, so maybe I blew up a little more than necessary, but I tried to chill out before he started chasing me, ordering that I didn’t walk away and talk to him. Let a girl try to get a hold of her emotions for a second big guy.

I’ve been anxious all day, waiting to talk to him about some deep seeded trauma, and then he comes and screws up all of it with a simple exception to an invitation. I know he didn’t mean harm by it, but he’s a trained professional. That was not a trained professional response. Plus, stepping out of my normal routine of being a bitch to him to keep him at a distance wasn’t just a switch I could flip.

Again, I could have handled that better, but now my brain is in mission mode, trying to reprogram what this night has set up for us. Considering the invitation was for tonight, it gave me little to no time to prepare.

“What time did she say dinner was?” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was going through our small, hidden arsenal of gadgets Tony had made for us.

“Six,” Bucky replied from his room down the hall.

Great, that was forty-five minutes from now… “Ok, I can do this.” Deciding it was best to keep some bugs on hand in case we could plant them in the house, and we would be planting them, I needed to consider sizes and placements.

“Should we bring over some wine or something?” Bucky’s voice was now in the doorway to my room, but I kept my back to him as I sifted through our tools.

“I made a pie earlier today. We can take that,” I answered absentmindedly.

“Why’d you make a pie?”

“Felt like it,” I shrugged and walked out of the closet with three small wires/ bugs in hand. When I looked up, I saw he had changed into a nicer button-up and was tightening a tie around his collar he hadn't been wearing earlier. “Why are you wearing a tie?” I examined him.

“Same reason you’re wearing a nicer dress. I want to make a good impression,” he shrugged, straightening pieces of his outfit.

“I’m wearing this because we were going to our ‘anniversary dinner,’” I made sure to put the lie in hand quotes. “I had a story that went with it, but this can pass as casual, too,” I motioned to my dress and moved toward him, placing the wires on the bed. “This looks like you’re about to give a sales pitch.”

Without thinking, I pop his collar up and loosen the tie to get rid of it. The whole time I’m focusing on untying it, I ramble about what the plan is for the night.

“I’m going to give you a wire to put wherever you see fit, and I’ll do the other two. I’ll excuse myself to use the bathroom and sneak it where it’s needed. I feel it’s important we look for cameras already in the house in case it’s a setup. We don’t need them having hard proof that we bugged their place. We want to come off as simple yet good assets if we want them to bring us on board for their work,” I struggle with a certain spot on the tie he somehow fixed in an efficient way I’d never seen. “Jesus, were you a sailor in another life? Might as well have knotted it.”

He doesn’t respond, but I get it off in the next two seconds and look at him to see he had been studying me intently as I invaded his space. I see my slip-up, push the tie into his chest, and take a step back.

“Sorry.”

“No problem,” he answers rather calmly, and I look at his eyes, seeing patience there. Always that damn patience. How did he still have it with me even with how I’ve treated him? “Listen-”

“About last night,” I say at the same time, and he seems shocked but gives a single nod to tell me to continue. “I want to say I’m sorry for being all over the place recently. From last night to thirty minutes ago.”

He seems frozen by my apology, and I became anxious enough that I start to word vomit.

“I took some time to think after last night and spent the day stressing, thinking how I was going to talk to you about it because I do want to. I want to get what I can out on the table if you’d be ok with that,” I look up through my lashes, and I see the most subtle turn of his lip as he watches me attentively.

“Are you hinting that there’s a chance I’ll get to see the side of you others are lucky enough to see?” he retorts, grin growing and taking a step closer to me.

His use of the word ‘lucky’ shortcircuits my brain, and all I can do is nod once, slowly, as my answer. He takes another step, and I match it with one back. I feel more vulnrable than I was expecting to.

“You can understand now why having our plans for the night changed made me slightly temperamental.”

“I think slightly may be an understatement.”

“I think you still should choose your words carefully,” I say, tightening my smile. However, it doesn’t shut him down like normal. Instead, he laughs under his breath, and the doorbell rings.

Both of our heads shoot toward the noise, and solemnity takes over the room.

“You don’t think that’s,” Bucky pauses as he turns back to me.

“How often am I wrong?” I take a deep breath in and smooth my dress out as I walk over, pausing beside him. “Hide the wires. I already did a sweep of the house while you were getting ready to make sure we didn’t have anything out of place. I’ll tell them you’re getting ready.”

I don’t need to open the door to know who it is, but when I do, the urge to yell, “I told you so!” in Bucky’s face is strong.

“Bethanne!” I smile kindly and immediately notice the dish in her hand. Reggie is behind her, holding two others, looking like he just got off work and had been dragged over here. “Did Beau tell me wrong? Are we not eating at y’all’s house tonight?”

She scrunches her face in a practiced motion and lifts the ceramic bowl up as she explains.

“I hate to ask this of you, but our oven is still the old rickety one. The new one had some faulty design, and we had to ship it back. Needless to say, it decided to give out on us today of all days,” she raised her shoulders. “I know we sprung the dinner on you suddenly, but would you two be willing to host if we provide the food?”

Not on the money of what I guessed, but pretty fucking close to the money if you ask me.

“Who is it, Doll?” Bucky’s voice carries from the hallway he’s now emerging from. The first three buttons on his dress shirt are undone, and he’s messing with the cuffs on the sleeves. “Hey, Bauers,” he smiles yet still holds shock in his features by the neighbor's appearance. “Did we get the time wrong?” he asks, looking at his watch before coming to my side, where I've now moved and am letting themselves in.

“No, no, no,” Bethanne shakes her head and hands off one of the pots to me as she takes one from Reggie, who looks more bothered to be here than happy. Long day human trafficking, asshole? “We had some appliance issues thanks to some of the renovations we were doing. I was just asking your wife if we can use your house as tonight's setting and possibly use your oven while here.”

Without hesitance, Bucky takes the dish from my hands and the dish Bethanne had swapped for and nods for Reggie to follow him.

“No problem at all. Let me help you ladies with that. Char," A nickname he had never used for my character before, but it seemed to work fluently. "Would you like to get some wine for the two of you while I get this organized in the kitchen?” he asks me, placing a kiss on the side of my head while his hands are full as he walks towards the other room.

I don’t know how he’s learned to play his role so well, but it’s convincing, even to me.

“Uh, yeah,” I almost stutter in my response as I motion for Bethanne to follow me to the wine cooler out in the garage. “Red or white with tonight's dish?”

"Do you have any more husbands like that in the back I can steal? What a gentleman," she coos, shoulder-bumping me.

___________

Half an hour of baking the food and getting it plated, and our conversation continued with questions mostly strictly about us, which would have been fine if not for the reason behind such invasive intentions.

They started off simple. How’d you guys meet? Who made the first move? What did we love about the town so far? What kind of hobbies and adventures did we take on before moving here? All questions we had prepared for, and if not, could easily improvise.

So far. No slip-ups. If anything, we sold the scheme far better than I’d imagined we would even when they became more personal. And our discussion on being the ‘prude couple’ last night seemed to affect Bucky’s actions a lot more than I was expecting.

An obvious hand on my thigh under the table and an arm thrown over my seat in a slightly possessive manner seemed to catch the eye of Reggie, who mimicked some of the moves as if it were a competition.

In addition, Bucky kept making small compliments about how I looked and how smart I was when they asked about my job. Dropping little comments about things I did (not my character) that he loved and appreciated.

“She’s always doing things like that. I almost never have to worry about making coffee in the morning because she has it all set up just to hit a button and go.”

“You should ask Charlotte about that! She’s the reason our house looks like a home. I’m sure she could give some advice on the kitchen backsplash.”

“She may not know how to boil an egg correctly, but her baking skills are unmatched. I've put on a few pounds now that we have a nice kitchen to spend time in."

I did my best not to act shocked every time he dropped a compliment, but the fact he could have made shit up for my character and used those details as conversation pieces, yet he went the honest way (although more convincing, of course), shocked me.

“Speaking of baking skills,” Reggie nodded his head back to the kitchen counter behind us and smiled at me. “I spied a pie on the counter. Any chance we can have that to finish off this dinner?”

I was still staring at Bucky from his last form of appreciation when I blinked out of my distraction and returned to our neighbor.

“Oh, of course! I was just about to offer,” I smiled, standing up, and Bucky quickly stood next to me, pulling my chair out. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm as I moved around to the counter.

“How sweet. Oh, Charlotte, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is?” Bethanne asked, standing and giving her husband a look for not showing the same chivalry as Bucky.

I watched her, knowing that I would have used the same excuse to do what we planned to at their house. But I was two steps ahead of her.

“Of course! Beau, do me a favor and get some plates out for dessert. I’m going to show Beth-”

“Oh, I’m sure I can find it,” she waved off, coming around the table and moving to the hall promptly.

Yeah… Not without a chauffeur, honey.

“No problem,” I waved off, moving with her casually. “I need to grab some floss from my bathroom before dessert. I’ll show you to it.”

I can see the most subtle glaze of annoyance at my insistence, but she smiles and walks a step ahead of me.

I show her to the bathroom and make it seem I’m going into the master down the hall while she’s in there. And I do, but I keep an eye to make sure she isn’t snooping in any other room besides the one. We’ll have to survey it after they leave, but better that and the dining room than the whole house.

Once we’re back with the boys, no wandering to be done, Bucky helps me plate a slice of chocolate pie for each of us, and I offer to move the conversation to the porch. Any kind of redirection from the comfort of the inside of our home is welcome.

“I love how you’ve decorated your porch. It’s so cozy,” Bethanne notices, pointing out the colorful decorative pillows, hanging swing the size of a daybed, and loads of plants and decor that make the space more intimate. She and Reggie are sat on the two rocking chairs facing the front yard, and Bucky and I are sat close together on the swing, where he’s controlling the tempo we sway in.

“I always wanted a spot outside to escape. We didn’t really have that at our last home, and it was important for me to have this time around,” I replied.

My answer is actually very true. I loved being outside, especially when it was something as simple as sitting in the backyard or swinging on a porch. I had one requirement about this mission, one I’m not even sure Bucky knew about. But I asked Tony to supply a nice budget for the porch.

Call it cheesy, but growing up in such an unnatural and dehumanizing way, you crave a small part of that normalcy you see on the movie screens. For some reason, a porch I could escape on but still be within the comfort of my own home was a dream. And because it was, I thought I’d make this situation a little more bearable by granting that small wish I always had.

“Well, I may have to start budgeting for a new kind of renovation,” she patted Reggie’s back, and he gave her a tight-lip smile. "What do you say, Reg? Do you think we can get a swing like that one?” She smiled over at us just as Bucky pulled me into his side, his arm going around my waist and his hand resting on my hip bone.

“I have a feeling we might as well have built a home from scratch by the time you’re happy with the renovations we’ve taken on,” Reggie answered with a nod before taking a swig from his beer. “Get that recipe for the pie from Charlotte, and I’ll consider buying you a new porch,” he winked my way and turned back to the front of our lawn.

I instantly found Bucky’s hand tightening, and his thumb started rubbing in an up-and-down pattern along my hip. When I turned to him slightly, his gaze stayed on Reggie.

Before finishing cleaning up for the night, we said goodbye to our guests, and just when we thought we hadn’t made any headway in our conversation about work (mind you, we had dropped hints and notices about it all night, but neither of the two seemed to take the bait), Reggie stopped on the last step to our porch and turned to Bucky.

“You mentioned working in transportation, and by the sounds of your new job up here, if you’re interested in a more innovative place, I may have some ins for you,” he shook Bucky’s hand. “I have some coworkers around the states that could use some employees like you on their route.”

“I may take you up on that offer. It all depends on how this week rolls out,” Bucky answered perfectly. The Bauers said their goodbyes, and we watched them walk home before turning to each other.

In a silent celebration, we grinned at the invitation and then sent wordless glances to tread carefully when we got in before scoping the place for bugs…

_______________

Bucky’s POV:

I’m not surprised that the blonde sole cycle instructor of a neighbor was able to get a wire in our bathroom, but neither Y/N nor I were in the mood to remove it right away and give away our knowledge of it, so we each grabbed another drink for the night and debriefed subtly on the porch where the only bugs we had to mind were the crickets chirping their music for the night.

Bethanne was right. Our porch was nicely done, and I hadn’t even noticed Y/N had hung lights out here until she plugged them in.

“I feel like this spot is more put together than the rest of the house.” I noticed the details when we were out here earlier. Now, we both have taken up spots in the rocking chairs our neighbors had vacated.

“I may have focused more of my attention on this spot than the others,” she smiled as she brought a tumbler glass up to her lips. She had drank wine while Bethanne was here, but as soon as they were gone, the whiskey I had made a glass for myself was stolen out of my hand before I could take a sip. Now, we had each of our own.

“Was what you said about the porch a real thing? I mean, we have balconies at the compound,” I looked at her as I sat my drink on the small table between us.

“Balconies and porches aren’t the same. At least in my head, they aren’t,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh and resting her glass in her lap. “Did you mean what you said when you were complimenting me all night?” She lulled her head to the side to look at me.

I had been making compliments. It felt easier to use the ones I had picked up on than the ones I made up. Yet again, I think anyone should get the recognition they deserve when they excel in something. Y/N just tended to excel in more than I think she was aware of. And I was learning she didn’t seem to be used to people taking note of those things.

“Why lie?” I shrugged, starting to rock in a steady pattern.

“Because that’s this whole gig. A lie,” she answered, taking another pull of the hard liquor.

I considered her perspective and shook my head, looking out to the lights on the other side of the street. “I guess it gets tiring at points. Don’t really feel like doing it if the truth can be just as usable.”

She didn’t answer for quite a few seconds, and when I turned back to her, she was staring at me like she was waiting for another shoe to drop.

“How are you so patient? Seriously, is it a drug Tony made you before you had to deal with me on this mission? I don’t get it,” she laughs, but I can hear the genuine confusion in it as she sits forward and turns her body to me.

Honesty. I’m in a mood to be 100% honest.

“Want me to be real with you?” I asked, turning my own body.

“It’d be preferred,” she nods and rests both her arms on the armrest.

“I don’t know anything about your past, but I know most people have a reason for acting the way they do. It took years and a ton of patience before I felt like I was even close to who I used to be. I still struggle to come to terms with the fact I’ll never be who I was before the train incident,” I sigh and rest my head back against the chair as I look at her. “I guess I have understanding more than patience. I understand that you have a history of your own that I don’t know, and I can’t blame you for a lot of the things you do.”

“But you should. I’m an asshole to you,” she says, and the admission is kinda nice to hear, even if it is sad.

“Yeah, and I was hoping you’d be willing to share why that is,” I reply calmly.

She tenses some and sits back in her chair, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed, the chair rocking with her movement and her dress overflowing past her knees.

“I guess now is as good a time as ever…” She looked at me sidelong before finding comfort in the view in front of her instead. “I didn’t really have a chance to develop a personality of my own because of my time in this lifestyle,” she motions around her, “started as soon as I could walk. So I had no identity to fall back on since I had to find it after I escaped.”

I had questions, but I found it best just to listen. Clearly, what she was talking about wasn’t something she brought up lightly, and being an ear to listen was what she needed right now.

“I was left behind by whichever no-good parent gave me up, and Adonis Hummel took me as his own and decided he’d try to recreate the famous assassin, The Winter Solider, from birth practically.”

The name drop came quickly and struck home. I didn’t know her whole story, but I had enough imagination and experience to believe where she was going.

“Wait, Hummel?” I started because the name sounded familiar, but…

“He was a low-level scientist who worked for Hydra when they were still using you under Pierce. He thought he had the brains and resources to create his own version of you. A version that would be more undetectable as a woman and a version he could tweak however he wanted,” she rolled her shoulders. “Lucky for him, I didn’t have to be brainwashed since I knew nothing besides the life of abuse, experimentation, and a shit ton of conditioning... " 

"To clarify, I say that for context, not sympathy,” she straightened, and I could see her shifting back to her unbothered disposition, but the truth was shining through the cracks. She may not have wanted sympathy, but something about the vulnerability seemed to lighten the load on her shoulders.

“As for why I may have built a wall around you, an unhealthy and senile wall, I felt as though…” She gulped as if the next part was harder for her to say than the abuse of her past. “I felt as though you had been my competition my whole life, and a part of me, a young and in-need-of-therapy part of me, thought it was best to keep you as far away as possible and hold onto that anger instead of work through it. It felt easier than facing the fear that I didn’t actually equate to you in any way. So that’s another reason why I felt everything with you was to prove a point.” She lets out a short breath after using all the air in her lungs in one swift swoop.

I-

It’s a lot to take in…

She doesn’t move her head back towards me after her confession, and I can’t seem to break my stare from her.

“This is where you say something like, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m actually an asshole either way, so we can go on hating each other for completely understandable reasons!’ or I don’t know? Anything but silence would be preferred, though…”

Her hand is gripping the arm rest unconsciously like an anchor keeping her on earth.

On instinct, I reach across and pull her hand into mine, keeping my stare heavy, enticing her to look at me.

She closes her eyes at first and takes another short breath before turning.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unworthy of being on the team.” I feel like I personally am the reason for her suffering, even if I had no correlation with her before I joined the team. "You are more than an asset to the team and are your own kind of weapon. It's incomparable."

“Ugh,” she sniffles and rubs an eye with the heel of her free hand as if to disguise a possible tear as allergies. “This would be so much easier if you were a piece of shit misogynistic asshole, but you're part of the few good ones out there. Steve, Sam, and Clint included, not Tony,” she noted.

I smiled, thinking about how I’d make a team like that even if she had me believe otherwise for so long.

“What I’m trying to get at, B, is you’re not the one I should be blaming for my past. You’re just as much a victim as I am, but I took the easy way out of making it more manageable for me, and I only made it harder for us both in the end. And for that,” she turned and stared into my eyes fully, the hand she held squeezing my own. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve an ounce of the kind of cruelness I tried to bury you in. You are the opposite of what they tried to make you, and you’re genuine in proving that to anyone who meets you. I've been envious of the strength you have, and I can say confidently that I deeply regret ever blaming you for that.”

I once again have to process yet another collection of words I’d never thought I hear. From her. Ever. A part of me believed this was a dream, but the part that Y/N had a grip on was practically pinching me into reality.

Without hesitating, I stood up, pulled her arm up with me, and yanked her into my body in a crushing hug.

She froze at first… The motion was quick and surprising, but slowly, she unhooked our hands, brought both of hers tightly around my waist, and laid into me. I rested my head on top of hers and pulled her shoulders in with my arms, wrapping both of my own tightly around her.

I wasn’t going to let go until she did, and by the looks of it… She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

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