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takes1 · 5 months ago

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p.3 asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk

skip the intro if you want/ i had a very fun time writing suga/daichi/asahi being realistic high school friends. shit had me giggling. anyways ty for all the support!! taglist has gotten big i love it!!

warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI info. nsfw / m!receiving oral / f!receiving oral / grinding / gentle giant!asahi / mutual size kink / sweet asahi / asahi climbing a window / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / kuroo being protective / 3.7k words / multipart series so reply to be added to taglist! haikyuu collection. more hq here! part one here. part two here. final part here. more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

"How good are you at climbing?"

Asahi repeated his plan many times to his two most trusted friends on the walk from the hotel. They were prepared for what this was going to look like when they hit a kneel behind the brick half-wall in front of your home.

"God," He sighed, courage fading from his face the longer he stared up over the barrier.

Your window was pretty high.

"Should I-- should I go through with this? I mean, this is crazy--,"

Daichi grabbed both sides of his face and gripped hard.

"Is that even a question?"

Completely taken off-guard, Asahi looked around, a little freaked out, but was only squished harder.

Daichi's expression was stone, "You have to do this."

"Dude, I don't think any chick is gonna be this into you ever again," Suga added.

"This is once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," Daichi gave him a few hard slaps to the face and finally released him.

He rubbed his burning cheek, brow furrowed at the sudden tone-shift first, then with rising confidence. He nodded with resolution.

He was super into you, so why not? It was just a jump. He jumped all the time!

A few more supportive back-pats and half-pushes, and he was checking the look of the house to make sure Tetsuro wasn't on standby at any doors or windows. Thankfully, it was just your open window, exactly how you described it would be.

Asahi's big ass went into a full sprint across the yard, stirring a round of laughter from his peeping friends behind the wall.

The prospect of some old lady calling the cops on this giant sneaking around in the neighbor's yard was too funny of a concept to them.

Daichi snorted at Suga propping his phone up to record.

"Aaahah! Yess-ss-s!!" He giggled under his hand.

Their buddy jumped for the window, but only tapped it with his fingers.

"Noo-oo-hhha-haha-!"

Suga was belly-laughing into his arm. The brunette could hardly speak to encourage him to keep watching as Asahi looked around for anything to help him up.

To their delight, the only possible object to help him at this point was a skinny, unreliable sapling that sat an awkward distance away. He might have been able to properly use it if it was two feet closer, and if he weighed 80 pounds less.

They were grabbing at each other's hands, their laughter not even quiet anymore, when he began to climb it.

"OOoh-, Ooh! OH my-" Suga's laughter turned to just a scratchy whistle at the back of his throat as Asahi fell out of the tree with a thump!

At this point, the two were gripping each other, silently shrieking and vibrating, barely able to open their eyes enough to watch through the phone.

Daichi gasped for air when he saw him land on his ass, "AAAH!! AH-Hh--,"

"SHHHH! SHsh-ss-ss," Suga gripped his shoulder and slipped off, headbutting him in the process.

They were both whistling now, not even watching anymore, as Asahi finally got his hands on your open window just by a powerful vertical.

Fuck that tree. He was glad he left the stupid thing bent at 90-degree angle.

The two sat there on the sidewalk for the next seven minutes, overcome with demonic squeaking, gasping, and hissing, with tears rolling down their red faces. Every time they started to calm down, they'd look at the sideways tree and return to hysterics all over again.

Finally; the easy part was the muscle-up to get inside.

"God damn," He groaned in pain and slid into your bedroom with a stumble.

You swiftly got up, shut, and locked the window behind him, then drew the curtains for good measure.

From his seated position on the floor, he could see all the way up your simple white t-shirt. Pretty, lacy white panties right in front of his nose were the only thing you opted to wear underneath. He grew much, much warmer.

"God damn..." He repeated, though it sounded entirely different.

His hand reached to grab at you, but he stilled, thinking better of himself.

He noticed how pretty your long lashes were, looking down at him like he was your next meal, and wondered what you actually saw in him to make you so eager.

"Hi," You grinned and backed up to pull him to his feet.

It was a struggle to not just sit on him and make-out immediately. But the sun was just setting, and you wanted this to last all night, so you figured you could take a little time out for 'formalities.'

He quickly kicked off his shoes and took your hands, but didn't rely on your help to get up.

Your hands stayed connected between you. His thumb rubbed against the back of your knuckles, slow and tender.

You really were just a sweet little thing. He couldn't believe you were so forward over the phone.

"Hi," He replied softly. A big, warm smile down at you.

Sure, you wanted to know how his day was, how he was feeling, what he was thinking, if he liked your 'outfit'-- but that little exchange transformed your anticipation into desire, and you neededhim now.

A little sweaty from the climb, a little out of breath too, he gladly gave into your guidance to sit on your bed. It groaned under his weight, but you couldn't care about the noise when your lips were crashing onto his.

He tasted like one of those green Listerine strips- spearmint, you caught- and man, was he so good. His lips were full and soft, like you could melt into them all day. He wasn't over-ambitious, nor was he too passive with his mouth.

A growl rose in the back of his throat when you pushed his hands under your shirt.

"Please touch me," You sighed, brow furrowed, limbs growing weaker under his palms.

He sucked on your bottom lip for a moment and caught his much-needed breath. That low laughter was even hotter in person.

"God, you're so cute," He smiled, a small tease at your neediness, but he wasn't hiding the fact that he liked it.

His compliment made you melt in his arms as he picked you up to set you in his lap. The foreign feeling of hands covering your hips, pushing your softness down onto his jeans inspired a small, unfiltered whine onto his lips.

"Fuck," He chuckled, gasping at that unmistakable heartbeat around his tortured, trapped cock, then rasped, "I've got so many questions."

There was almost no resistance when you pushed him to lay down, mostly because he wouldn't trade where his hands were to catch himself. You swallowed an amused sound from him and only responded when he pushed up into you.

"a-Ah-ha," You whined, letting him trail a number of messy kisses down your neck, "Me, too."

Curious hands slid up his light shirt, massaging and prodding nearly every square inch of his hardened frame. He had some chest hair and a little tummy trail, which only added to your ferocity.

He noticed this interest and did you the favor of removing his own shirt.

The sight of his athletic build was not surprising, but it certainly made you want to speed things up. Your fleeting focus shifted to the next thing you wanted to see.

"You feel so big," You breathed, hips rolling against him when he wasn't holding you still.

Judging by the shy, modest smile against your skin, your deduction was right.

"You gonna be okay with that?" His voice buzzed against your ear.

You gasped at the sensation and his tone.

His fingers were edged up under your panties, gripping the plush of your ass, effectively driving home the question's sincerity.

Before you granted him the answer, you pressed a kiss onto his temple and retracted to sit up on his lap, "Are we asking our questions?"

"Yea-h," Just fell out of his mouth.

He didn't realize he even said anything until you responded to him. His focus was on how you rolled waves of pleasure onto his lap, back and forth, real slow, with that gone-look on your face.

"How many girls have you 'been with'?" You hooked your fingers under his waistband and watched his tummy twitch.

"Two."

You nodded with consideration, knocking out his past and future question with your present response, "Me too."

That adage sparked a look of relief and certainty on his face. His hold strengthened around your thigh when you unbuttoned his pants and started lowering the zipper.

"Let me know if it's..." He trailed and tried to suppress a shiver when you pulled him out.

He watched your eyes widen, lips pursed in an adorable astonishment.

It was a conscious effort to not shy away from the size. You couldn't believe your luck, as you took it in your hand to assert that you were not intimidated.

His chuckling interrupted your awed stare.

"Too much?"

A quick head shake, but you weren't convincing enough to his heedful mind.

Another slow, studied kiss between one another. He was holding you still by the side of your face and the back of your head, quieting every worry in your brain.

"We'll take things slow," He reassured you.

Though you were certain nothing on your face expressed concern, his promise stood as a reminder that you could stay calm, because he was safe.

You settled next to him, propped onto your elbow for the most comfortable angle you could get.

Huge, but safe.

The way his stomach tapered down into his hips had you staring and rubbing all around his dick, just curious to touch every inch of him.

A dark, pulsing head was already leaking a bit of precum. You pumped him once, real slow, and let the clear drip onto your tongue.

Salty, yeah, but not much burn to it. You licked the rest of it off of the slit.

He gave a strangled curse and you earned a big hand brushing through your roots.

"Mm..." You sucked a sloppy kiss to the head with a chuckle at his twitching in your mouth.

You stuck your tongue out past your bottom lip and bobbed down. His head fell back onto the blankets and his fingers flexed in your hair.

"Ooh, fu-ck," Was a pretty sound above you.

He was too big for you to take all of him, but he sounded completely satisfied with what you were comfortable doing.

With a slight bend in his knee, he was able to turn his hips slightly towards you. His firm hand in your hair guided you to a rhythm and depth he preferred.

"A-ahh--Fuck, baby that's s-o good..."

You never realized before, but it made it so much easier on your neck and shoulders-- not to mention the fact you didn't have to think anymore.

It helped you relax.

His muttered praise was just the cherry on top. Your thighs squeezed at how good he made you feel for just letting him take your mouth.

He lingered right at that threshold between too difficult and too easy for you, and let up as soon as you gave him some resistance to judge you by.

There wasn't a better person you could've chosen to trust with your body. His tendency to play it safe turned you on because it let you run wild without worry that he'd take advantage of it.

He was so gentle, yet firm- you wanted to discover what you could do with him.

"Fuuck, ah- good girl," He groaned at your ability to take him so well, a shocked, pleasure-soaked chuckle as he was able to fuck deeper into your throat.

You felt pliable and empty when he pulled you up by your roots. It was brand-new and a rehash of everything you wanted from him all at once.

He had a hungry admiration in his eyes for you.

Your hands flew up to tangle in his long hair in a passionate, rushed kiss.

Soft, kissy missionary or the roughest backshots his strength would allow-- you wanted anything, everything, as long as it was with him.

You wanted to be his.

He sucked the spit off of your lips and chin- the rest came off on your shirt, swiped away and forgotten onto the floor.

He readjusted to slide his pants off, yet chose to keep his briefs on. When he pushed you back onto the mattress, it was smooth and skilled, like he'd been planning exactly how he wanted to hold you.

Big, rough palms scoured your body, scratching and squeezing in all the right places to make you jump and squirm against him while he kept you occupied with his mouth.

"I'd love to return the favor," He chuckled against the shell of your ear when you wiggled away from his gentle pinch to your breast.

Your sensitivity motivated him to take his weight off of you.

You gasped at the chance to breathe with ease again. He trailed slow, wet kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and stilled at your exposed chest.

Even when he wasn't doing anything, he felt so good on top of you. You pushed out your chest for him and locked your legs around his waist, a silent beg for him to keep going.

The act stirred another question, muttered between increasingly rough stimulation on your sensitive skin.

"Why me?"

You kept your hand over your mouth to keep some higher tones quiet. Your heartbeat was pounding between your legs-- why was he so humble?

"You're-- mn-! so hot," You admitted. It sure was simple, but it was effective.

It made him blush and laugh a little against your tits, so you kept going, "You ever just, God, ah- know that you need somebody?"

It looked like he didn't really get it, but he was plenty flattered, and that was more than enough.

"Well," He smiled and pushed himself up to sit between your legs. He let his hair fall onto his shoulders so he could re-tie it, "I hope I make it worth your while."

How could he say it like that? You couldn't tear your eyes away from his flexed arms, reaching up for nimble, veiny fingers to comb through his gorgeous locks.

You finally understood it. His self-esteem was testy at best.

"You already have," You admitted.

With the new knowledge that he could be a bit shy, you slid your panties off for him with a coquettish smile.

A sort of challenge, a sort of invitation, when you spread your legs for him again.

He loved your flirty nature. You had this 'Come and get me, big guy' attitude that he couldn't ignore or back down from. In a way, it gave him the confidence he always wanted. Plus, it got him super hard.

A moment to drink up the sight of you completely nude for him.

His hands were rubbing, spreading your thighs open as he settled between them.

He could've been just-alright and it would've been enough for you. Just his breath was setting your nerves on fire. But, like everything else so far, it wasn't mediocrity that defined him.

His lids were low as he got a good look at what he was working with. He pushed your legs far and split you open in spite of -or perhaps because of- your bashful writhing.

A slow, hot kiss against your sex shut down your attempts to get in his way.

Scratching nails turned a bit sweeter, more trembly against his scalp.

A light touch was all you needed, and it was exactly what he offered; his tongue traced every bit of your already longing cunt before taking a feather-light approach to your clit.

"Oh, fuc-k," You whined, having not anticipated how quickly he'd work you up.

There was usually a learning curve to this.

You could see in his eyes that he was smiling, or that he at least found your surprise amusing.

This gentle, sweet method inspired your squirming again, but he kept you in place with heavy arms around your hips.

He kept you so still that his grip was making your muscles ache underneath him. It was a subtle, sweet mix of pain and pleasure that you craved.

"Does that feel good, baby?" His tongue dipped down, a pressure against your soaking wet, tragically still empty, hole.

He knew you couldn't reply.

"Can't wait to fuck you," He mumbled, words buzzing on you.

You were being good about staying quiet under your hand before his admission. But it seemed that you forgot your precarious situation as soon as the man was back to tonguing your clit, edging you much too close to orgasm.

"A-ah-!" You slapped a helpless hand onto his arm and threw your head back onto your pillow, "Asahi-,"

Your unrestrained sounds only encouraged him to keep going.

The sight of you coming completely undone, arching at his touch, calling his name like that, despite not knowing a damn thing about him-- he was starting to understand what you meant by needing somebody.

The tension in your tummy was starting to crest high and quick.

"I'm so close- no," You whined, scratching at him.

You couldn't push away from his grasp, nor escape his dogmatic tongue to relieve your overstimulated clit.

"No-o plea-se, I-want you," Your pleading was finally granted his attention.

He finally stilled and pressed a thoughtful kiss to the inside of your twitchy thigh. The desperation in your voice took his breath away.

Just when he thought you couldn't get any cuter, you pull a move like this.

Who was he to deny you the chance to cum around his cock?

"Damn," He grumbled.

You flinched at his last, longing kiss to your pussy.

He settled next to you and became subject to some fast, light kisses to the side of his face while he finally removed the last of his clothes. You were so happy that he listened to you and that he was pulling out his dick again.

"Yesss!" You giggled and climbed on top of him before he could even straighten back out.

"God," He choked.

Your hips rocked back and forth on top of his strained cock- you were so wet for him, so eager, he couldn't help but compulsively buck against you, too.

His slick, pulsing cock slipped between your folds and bumped against your clit with every slow, strong thrust.

Hands stretched over your ass, he brought you back and forth exactly the way he wanted.

He was using you like a little toy.

You leaned down to your elbows, lips brushing his, and moaned to egg him on, "You feel soo good."

"D'you wanna fuck me?" You bit his lip, testing his patience, his temperament, with a blissed-out look in your eyes.

One set of nails buried into your curves, the other was grabbing the back of your neck to shut you up.

A deep groan surfaced past his lips and onto yours. His low-lidded stare was so intimidating, it made your thighs clench around him.

"Fuck-," He moaned, remembering he would need to stand up to go grab a condom, "My pants are so far away."

He laughed at how badly his cock hurt, hands now trying to still the addictive motion, "I gotta-"

You pried his fingers from you and sat up so you could keep going.

"Mm-mm, I've got some..."

A vague motion to the side of the bed. You leaned your head back at the friction and hoped he was watching you.

That was shockingly attractive of you to just have condoms. He looked to the dresser you pointed to with a raised brow, then closed his fist at the sight of your pretty body getting off on him.

"Alright," He groaned, "Watch it."

The room spun for a moment.

You were suddenly on your back, jaw slack at how he just picked you up and set you down so easily.

It was only disappointing for a moment, because you loved how he could throw you around, and his disgruntled, yet soft instruction.

You gave a shuddery, "Oka-y," through a big, excited grin.

He was leaning to sift through the contents of the drawer, on a search of a large amongst a handful of regulars, when he saw your phone light up at his presence.

"Looks like your mom texted you, by the way," He passed you the device without a further thought.

Finally one for his size in hand, he got back down and started to open it.

You frowned.

7:30 p.m: Make sure you take Maru out before it gets too dark.

9:00 p.m: take maru out. im on the game

A frantic look to the window. How long had it been dark for?

He sat straight up, "Woah, what's wrong?"

Breathless, you informed him, "I was supposed to take the dog out like, 2 hours ago."

His relief at the news was one-sided. For all he knew, a text from your mom could've been much worse. He didn't understand the trouble here.

"Wouldn't your-," He hesitated to bring up Tetsuro in this fragile environment, but had to, "Your brother just do it?"

You snorted. He never did anything that he could just put on you, especially chores that were specifically meant for you.

There was the idea to text and ask if he had done it already, but if he was still occupied, he wouldn't reply, and if he wasn't doing anything, there was the chance he would come up here and bother you until you did it yourself.

You shook your head and slinked off of the bed, despite every fiber of your being telling you to do otherwise.

"I'm surprised he hasn't knocked, yet," You shivered at the new cold and gave a nervous glance to your fortified door.

You looked divine, standing against the dim light that escaped through your blinds. Like a liquid silver painting, just for him.

Asahi grabbed a pillow to cover himself with and sat on the edge of the bed so he could put his hands on you.

He pulled you into a starved, rough kiss that you had to be gently pushed away from.

"Hurry back."

taglist.

ty for supporting!!!! i love writing this. reply to be added to taglist for next(likely last) part!

@valiantqueengarden @rinheartshyunlix @alpha-mommy69 @yuyunhoo @insertamazingnamehere

@kreishin

@40unung @deluluforcarlos55 @lili-harg @beyond-your-stars @noyaskneepad

@rinheartshyunlix @vintagevict0ria @am-3-thyst

masterlist. requests open!

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cool-lilfella · 7 months ago

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🥞・Caregiver Clark Kent headcanons

Banner by @ Bunnelbaby & Art by Carlo Pagulayan

- Loves baking you treats. He uses his Ma's recipes and it's always delicious.

- Extremely EXTREMELY gentle with you. He'd never let anything happen to you.

- A little too lenient sometimes and has a hard time sticking to rules. He just wants to get you everything you want all the time for you to be happy. But he knows that isn't always the best. He's trying to be more strict but you're just too cute sometimes! When it comes down to your health or safety though, he's real serious.

- Heavily values routine, but everythings adjusted to your ability.

- He loves all nick- and pet names you give him. Just don't call him supes/superman in public hehe.

- He loves calling you nick- and petnames too of course!His favorites being buddy, prince(ss), sweetpea, kid/kiddo, sunshine and love. But he's up to call you anything you'd like!

- Always asks questions to make sure your comfortable. "Do you like it when I call you this?", "Do you want me to hug you, love?", "Is it okay when I tease you? Always tell me if I'm being too harsh, okay prince(ss)?", etc...

- Carries you everywhere you want and in anyway you want. On his shoulders, in his arms, on his back, in one hand even!

- Good at taking care of all kiddos, from infant to teen regressors. One of the best at taking care of rowdy littles as well.

- Praise, praise, praise!!! "Amazing, good job!", "Wow! You're so smart buddy!", "Thanks so much sweetpea, couldn't have done it without you!", "You're such a good kid"

- Loves going places with you. Mostly his parents farm where you get to help feed the animals and collect eggs while he's helping with the big work. But you guys also go to parks, malls, aquariums and fairs whenever you can. You're always on an adventure.

- Speaking of his parents. Both Mrs. and Mr. Kent love you. Their house is so cozy and friendly. They babysit you every once in a while when Clark's busy.

- The absolute best at comforting you. After you'd had a bad day, when your sick, after/during meltdowns. He's calm and collected in these situations and he just always seem to know what you need.

- He's the type who wakes up early on weekends to make you a yummy breakfast. He'd greet you with a "Good morning sunshine!" and a "I made your favorite!"

- Good night stories every night. You often visit the library to find what you'll read this week. He also likes showing you books he liked as a kid.

#sfw agere #safe agere #agere #agere headcanons #fictional caregiver #caregiver headcanons #fandom agere #agere fandom #dc agere #silly guy rambles

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blurredcolour · 7 months ago

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The Only Truth... | Part Two

The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x POW Flight Nurse!Female Reader

Once rested, Bucky proves to be a rather difficult patient, but it's nothing you can't handle. Once he's discharged, however, the man still finds a way to remain close, even when he's no longer the one in need of medical care.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Nightmares, Detailed Description of Death by Gunshot Wound, Blood, Gore, Reader Scars, Hospital Setting, POW Camp Setting, SS Officers, Mental Health Struggles, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Rating - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 5001

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April 12, 1945

The light of dawn began to filter in through the murky windows of the hospital and with Bucky once again sleeping deeply, but now with all apprehension about his ability to wake again lifted, you began to carefully shuffle about the space and take care of some duties you had neglected for the last twenty hours. Emptying a few bed pans for those too weak to move, you scrubbed them clean in the meagre washroom before beginning to work on bandage changes, blinking futilely at the bleariness in your eyes. You had made it through two patients when the doors to the hospital were unlocked and Major Chalmers filtered in with Captain Menzies, another British medical officer, clearly just released from their combine.

It had taken several weeks for you to realize that the man introduced to you as ‘Mingies’ was the same as the man whose name was written as Menzies on the charts and not some other doctor who worked mysterious hours. Both men waited for you to finish treating the rather ghastly thigh wound inflicted by one of the ubiquitous German Shepherds – miraculously still not showing signs of infection – before you washed your hands and delivered your report on Major Egan.

“Very good, Nurse. Why don’t you go rest for the morning, we’ll see you around 1300 hours.” Chalmers replied.

Exhaling with a grateful nod, you excused yourself down the hall to your ‘accommodations.’ The former exam room had been stripped of all medical equipment to leave a cot, a small wooden cubby for your meagre collection of belongings, a tiny table for you to eat your solitary meals and write your correspondence, and a rickety washstand with a chipped enamel basin and mirror split with a spider’s web of fractures hammered directly into wall above it. With no interest in anything but sleep, you sat on the cot with a heavy sigh. You pulled the six remaining pins from your hair, having misplaced four throughout the last several months and still not having your confiscated effects returned to you, and kicked off your boots before laying down to sleep for a few hours.

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

The next time Bucky awoke, you were nowhere to be seen. He was plunged back into a world of dull, gritty, pungent masculinity and he was admittedly bereft. The pain in his back seemed all the more acute in your absence, and though there was again a serving of broth, it was tepid at best. Perhaps he could have withstood the continuation of a grim life all painted in the same grey palette, but to have that disrupted by your presence and then have that light and color taken away? It was even worse than not having had it to begin with.

It made him all the more sullen and combative when the British doctor Chalmers informed him that he would have to remain in hospital as a patient another night rather than being permitted to find the rest of the 100th and bunk with them.

“I’m perfectly fine Doc, all rested up, can walk, talk, and piss all on my own. I don’t need to be here a minute longer – the rest of these fellas are way sicker than me.”

The surgeon narrowed his eyes in response, clearly not appreciating his directions being questioned, but Bucky had had more than his fill of taking other people’s orders. He just wanted to get the hell out of here and back to people he knew.

“One night, Major Egan, that’s all I’m asking. The only bunks for new arrivals are in tents, if you’re lucky. In here you’re warm, dry, and have a bed that’ll feel nicer on those ribs – which are going to take four to six weeks to heal, might I add.”

Bucky was about to open his mouth to reiterate his protests when his eyes caught sight of you appearing from down the hallway, coming to standing behind Chalmers with your arms crossed and a stern look on your face. It was so utterly reminiscent of one he had received from his mother on countless occasions that he was momentarily unable to speak before clearing his throat to concede to the doctor’s request.

“Good.” Was his diplomatic reply before he turned to see you there. “Ah, Nurse, welcome back. In some irony of the universe, we’ve actually received a Red Cross shipment of supplies. Would you kindly catalogue the contents the goons have left for us and add it to our stock?”

Bucky did not miss the exasperation in your expression – it certainly did seem like a cruel joke for supplies to arrive with the end of the war surely weeks away.

“Certainly, sir.” You replied before looking to the large and very much opened and rifled-through box up against the wall essentially opposite to his cot.

Settling onto his stomach, he draped his arms across his pillow, nestling his chin atop his forearms to watch you work. “Don’t get a lot of supplies around here, do ya, angelfish?”

As you glanced toward him, he noticed you had changed your clothes, into equally threadbare ones but fresh ones all the same, and had tidied your hair. He would have taken you to a dance in Times Square looking like that. In a heartbeat.

“No, we most certainly do not, Major.” You shook your head and made a soft noise of triumph as you managed to fish out the packing list – something to compare the remaining contents to, he supposed. “Might mean we got more rations too though, corned beef and liver pate to eat desperately before they go bad.” You gave him a wry smile which he returned.

So the Germans here liked to punch holes in the cans, too. Good to know. Bucky watched as you retrieved a pencil from the central desk and began to unearth boxes of gauze and ointments and all manner of things he was only vaguely familiar with. He drowsily studied your profile, lips tugging fondly at the way you stuck your tongue out slightly in concentration, trapping it between your teeth and grunting in dismay when something you obviously were hoping for was not there. Hovering on the border between sleeping and waking, he jumped slightly as you gently nudged his shoulder, holding out two pills and his mug filled with fresh water.

“Aspirin.” You whispered and he raised an eyebrow before plucking them from your soft palm, tossing the pills into his mouth and chasing them down with a slug of cold water.

“You’re a goddess, angelfish.” He murmured, laying down his heavy head as you moved to tuck him in again.

Your soft laugh in response made him smile drowsily. “No Bucky, just a nurse. Now stop fighting it and go to sleep.”

He was yanked back into consciousness by the sound of your voice some time later, tone flat and impatient.

“Just let me finish changing his bandage, please.”

“Nein, it is lights out and you are going back to your room now schwester.” The rude, clipped reply of the SS guard had Bucky forcing himself up off his cot, gritting his teeth against the screams of protest in his frighteningly unstable ribcage.

His eyes flashed around the room before they landed on the uniformed man grabbing your elbow to usher you from the bedside of a patient and down the hall. Bucky stumbled to his feet, peering around the corner after you to watch the man shove you into the room on the left before pulling the door shut and snapping a padlock into place. Bucky narrowed his eyes, moving over to the patient you had been forced to abandon, supplies still on top of his blanket.

“I’m no nurse but I can give it a shot?” He muttered to the fellow who gave him a small shrug in return. “I’ll be back when the coast is clear, then.”

Bucky slid back into his own cot, watching the guard stomp his way out of the building before slamming the last set of doors shut, the lock snicking into place behind him before the lights all went out. Blinking against the darkness to force his eyes to adjust more quickly, he made his way down the hall, feeling his way along the rough-hewn wood of the wall and over to your door before knocking softly.

“Angelfish? You alright in there?”

“Bucky?” Came your muffled answer shortly after the sound of your footsteps approached.

“Damn they lock you up like in here like some kind of fairytale princess.”

There was a soft snort and Bucky could not help the smirk that pulled from him. “Anything I should know before I try and finish that guy’s arm?”

There was a pause before you cleared your throat and responded with, “no it’s pretty straight forward but…but if it smells anything like cheese would you mind letting me know?”

“Cheese…” He replied slowly.

“The smell of infection, Bucky.” You sounded amused and he wished more than anything he could take in your facial expression then.

“Got it. I was born in Wisconsin, raised for this.”

“And then you’re going to immediately put yourself in your cot and rest, Bucky.” You said firmly.

“You got it angelfish. You, too.”

“Night, Bucky.”

Gathering his courage and putting on a mask of cool, level-headedness, he returned to his fellow patient’s bedside, removing the old bandage and bowing his head to take a deep whiff. Thankfully, for everyone’s sake, there was definitely nothing cheese-like about it. He then bumbled about in the dark of the room, applying perhaps the ugliest bandage known to man, but a bandage nonetheless, and returned to his cot as instructed.

It was not easy to drag the blanket up over his body from behind, especially with the newly aggravated soreness from his careless activities, but Bucky managed to settle down and fall into an uneasy sleep, exhaustion still dwelling deep in his bones and sucking him under. It did not take long, however, for his dreams to be haunted once more by images of deadly accurate shots burrowing their way between Buck’s shoulder blades on the other side of that wall. Of his friend’s blond head falling into the mud just shy of the treeline, just shy of freedom. Waking with a start, he glared around the dark, unfamiliar room and looked to the floor, frowning as you were not there for him to hold onto this time.

He had not fully woken the night before, but he had sensed enough of your calming presence to return to a deeper plane of sleep. To chase away the darker voices that threatened to fill his mind. Leveraging himself to a seated position, he grabbed his blanket and shuffled his way down the hall once again in search of your soothing influence, even if there was the interfering barrier of a door. Bucky’s descent to the ground was less than graceful, his ribs protesting fiercely and as he settled on the floorboards, he was filled with a sudden doubt in his ability to rise from this position. But then he heard your voice.

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

When Bucky had not immediately bustled back down the hall with tales of an arm wound stinking of ripe cheese, you had relaxed somewhat into your nightly routine, stripping to your long underwear for a proper night’s sleep…that did not really present itself. It was honestly not that surprising given the way you had pushed the boundaries of night and day, your body really was not sure what to make of it. You were just on the cusp of finally falling asleep when there was a commotion outside your room, the door rattling in its frame, the padlock jostling slightly.

Hearing a slightly familiar grunt, you sat up. “Bucky?” You called you softly.

“M’fine, angelfish, just sleeping out here.”

Your eyes widened and you practically leapt from the bed, crossing the room in record time. “Are you really ok? Sleeping…. on the floor?!”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just needed company.” He muttered from below and you slid down to lay on the floor, peering through the gap at the bottom of the door with one eye.

It was surely flush with the floor when the building was initially built, but as the hospital settled into the ground, about an inch-and-a-half had opened up below the door, allowing you to glimpse his face not far from yours.

“You had plenty of company in your comfortable cot, Bucky.” You whispered and the eye you could see flashed open, face turning to meet yours through the gap.

“Not yours, angelfish.”

“I don’t suppose I’m going to be able to convince you to go back to bed? No idea how the hell you’re going to get off this floor anyway…” You sighed, cheek pressed tightly against the floorboards to see as much of him as possible.

“I’m down for the count, I’d say.” He huffed with a poor show of playfulness.

Frowning, you looked over the visible portion of his face slowly. “You have another bad dream?”

He grunted noncommittally and averted his gaze, essentially confirming your suspicion. Sliding from your spot on the floor, you fetched your blanket and pillow before laying them down to rejoin him. “I get ‘em too. Stuck on that crashing plane and I can’t get off. Or the chute won’t open. Or I can’t…” your throat clenched, and you swallowed to clear it. “Can’t get my flight jacket off and I just burn up.” Your voice refused to come out any louder than an exhale, but you still managed to speak the last few words.

His eye slowly met yours once more though the thin opening halfway through your confessions and his brow furrowed. “Flight nurse?”

“I was, yeah. Just a kriegie nurse now, I guess.” You laughed wryly, trying to find a comfortable position on the uneven floor, the nail heads poking up into your shoulder.

There was a long pause as he seemed to weigh the pros and cons of unburdening himself to you before exhaling slowly. “I sent my best friend to his death. Least that’s what my dreams tell me. He didn’t want to run, I convinced him and then…well they almost caught him until I distracted them…”

“And got the shit kicked out of you.” You sighed, slipping into your ways of foul language on the edge of sleep, in the dark of your room.

Thankfully, by the twitch of his lips, he did not seem terribly put out by it.

“Basically.” He heaved a great sigh and you nodded, sliding your fingers under the door, as far as your knuckles would allow.

“No matter what happened, Bucky, he’s not in a place like this anymore. And that is a mercy.”

“Hmmm.” He hummed, unconvinced and you swallowed.

“What kind of man is he?” You lined up for another approach.

“Smart, too damn smart of any of this – built a radio out of a list of random junk I collected for him. He’s got the sweetest girl back home who writes him like clockwork. They were gonna get married if he got back. Was gonna be his best man.”

Taking a deep breath to summon your façade of brave optimism once again, for his sake, you nodded firmly. “When he gets home, you will be his best man.”

He looked to you hopefully, slowly sliding his fingertips to brush against yours beneath the coarse wooden bottom of the door. “Yeah?” He breathed.

“Yeah, Bucky. Yeah.” You nodded again, offering a smile, hoping it somewhat reached your eyes. “Now. Let’s try and get you some sleep.”

“Didn’t hear anything ‘bout you in that statement, angelfish.” He murmured sleepily and you hummed with drowsy laughter.

“I’m just about there, but not until you give in first.”

After a few beats of silence, you cracked your eye to check on him, pressing your lips together to smother your laugh as you caught him quickly squeezing his eye shut. It was not long, however, until his breathing evened and deepened, his mind at last surrendering to the sleep his body desperately needed. Swallowing tightly, heart throbbing slightly at the way his face softened, and the way his fingertips remained pressed stubbornly against yours as tightly as the door would allow, you tucked the pillow under your head, sliding your eyes shut to try and get some rest as well.

Despite the wildly uncomfortable position, you somehow managed to remain asleep until the next morning when Bucky began to shuffle and shift, soft noises of discomfort escaping him as he tried to find his way back to his feet.

“Roll onto your good side.” You coached through your drowsy state, and he stilled a moment before appearing to obey. “Bend your knees, then push up to sitting.”

There were still some grunts, but fewer overall, and the whole endeavour sounded a lot less like a fish flopping against the door.

“Then use the handle to pull yourself up with your good hand.” Holding your breath you waited until you saw two sock feet, firmly planted and steady on the floor, before rising on your side of the door. “Well done.”

“Still have a bit more time to sleep, angelfish.” He rumbled and you bit your lip fondly at his sleep-roughened voice.

“You, too.” You replied, pressing your forehead against the rustic wood, listening to his footsteps retreat down the hall until only silence remained.

You managed a few more hours’ sleep before the morning guard unlocked the door, delivering your morning pitcher of frigid water for your facsimile of a bath with a sliver of soap and rough wash cloth. Enjoying a breakfast of crackers and margarine, you reported for duty just as Chalmers was discharging Bucky, finding it suddenly difficult to meet his eyes in the light of day – the entire encounter in the dark feeling too intimate to recall in such a crowded, public space.

“Take care, Major Egan.” You smiled friendlily and followed Menzies out to the tent to assist with the removal of a set of sutures.

“You got it, Nurse.” He replied, the marked absence of the quirky nickname born of his inability to speak the day of his arrival halting your steps as you involuntarily glanced back over your shoulder to make sure he was really all right.

A grin slowly unfurled across his face, lighting up his exhausted features before he shot you a playful wink. You swallowed roughly as the day suddenly felt altogether too warm for your oversized sweater.

“Made ya look, angelfish.” He teased and you pressed your lips together desperately trying to smother your responding grin, conceding the fact that he had indeed made you look with a nod, before hurrying after Menzies when he barked your name from further into the canvas extension of the hospital.

Bucky’s discharge, unlike every other patient before him, did not mean that he dissolved into the general population of the camp. Somehow, he still managed to find reasons to make an appearance, dropping off bits of scrap wood to burn that he and his friends had collected to make the time pass faster, or arranging a crew of his men to deliver the hospital’s broth allotment to alleviate that burden from Chalmers and Menzies. He always appeared to be obeying his discharge orders and not hauling anything himself, at least when he arrived with his deliveries. Whether he was behaving out of sight was another question entirely.

Not only was the assistance greatly appreciated, but you found yourself looking forward to his visits as a break from the monotony of grim tasks of which your work consisted. Somehow, despite his worn-down spirit, he still managed to leave you feeling notably lifted by the time he was inevitably shooed out for getting underfoot or distracting you a little too long. Chalmers and Menzies were patient – indulgent even – but even they had their limits.

Four relatively peaceful days passed under this new routine, with no new arrivals in camp but, sadly, a few of the weaker patients in the hospital giving up the fight, until the sound of shots rang out mid-morning on the 18th. A great clamor arose among the patients indoors and the general population beyond the canvas walls of the tent, before a group of prisoners were rushing inside, Bucky at the fore, with an injured prisoner strung across their collective shoulders.

“Lay him here.” You gestured quickly to the cot you had been stripping after the death of its occupant sometime in the night, having succumb to infection and lack of food.

You did not miss the wince that crossed Bucky’s face as he maneuvered the injured man – no more than a boy, really – to lay where you had instructed. At the sight of a deep red stain, rapidly growing in circumference on the boy’s side, your eyes shot wide, and you looked to Bucky sharply.

“Find me Chalmers and Menzies immediately.” You stressed the need for expediency before turning back to begin rapidly pulling at the boy’s clothes, trying to locate the source of all that blood.

The shocking white expanse of his belly finally exposed, you found the gaping wound left by a large calibre round near his belly button, casting about frantically for your basket of fresh bandages to press against it, desperately trying to staunch the flow. What you would not give for a packet or six of sulfa right then. The pressure you put on his tender abdomen drew a yowl of pain from the boy and you frowned up at him sympathetically.

“I know, son, I know. We’re going to get this all fixed up alright?”

“Can’t b, b, believe they shot me! I just…just wanted to see the flowers poking through the fence and they just…Fucking war’s almost over anyway…” He was beginning to shiver uncontrollably, a sure sign of shock and you glanced towards the hospital doors, relieved to see Chalmers and Menzies rushing out to help.

“I’ll bet those flowers were beautiful.” You gulped as the bandage in your hand was rapidly soaked through and grabbed a few more to wipe the area clean, trying to permit the surgeons to inspect the wound itself.

No sooner would you swipe away the rapidly welling crimson fluid, than the hollow below his ribs, carved out by months of hunger, would accumulate a fresh pool of blood. There were noises of dismay before the pair of surgeons rolled the boy to check for an exit wound. They shared a dark look as there was none to be found, shaking their heads at one another. Your patient erupted into a panic, thrashing about, kicking you squarely in the thigh and knocking you back into Bucky, who thankfully stopped your rapid descent toward the muddy floor.

“I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!”

“Nurse! Hold him!” Menzies barked and began to fish around in the boy’s wound to see if he could find the bullet.

Shrieking filled the tent as you lunged forward to press down on his shoulders, trying your best to soothe him even as his shirt grew damp with his own blood, transferring to the fabric from your fingers. He was stronger than he looked, the panic only amplifying what little strength he had left, and you sent a grateful nod to Bucky as his much broader palms took over pinning the boy’s shoulders while you collected his flailing hands between yours.

“Easy now, easy. Docs are going get you right as rain, just hold still now.”

“I’m gonna die and there’s not gonna be a heaven and there’s gonna be nothing!” The boy’s wild eyes wheeled on you, fairly punching you in the gut, and you shifted his wrists to grip in one hand against your chest while the other stroked at his hair tenderly with the other.

“Come now – you’re going to be alright. Besides, I’ve met the Pope. You think they’d keep that man in his fancy house and fancy clothes for nothing?”

His lips were growing a frightening shade of white from the blood loss, the rest of him the unsettling grey pallor of imminent death, but he seemed greatly calmed by your papal revelations. His hands shifted to grip at yours and his brow furrowed earnestly, the only movements of his body now were the echoes of the desperate attempts of the surgeons below.

“I want my momma. Tell my momma that I…tell my momma…” He trailed off into a whisper, the light slowly dimming from his eyes until there was nothing, his hands going limp, and he was gone.

Swallowing brutally, you carefully shifted your fingers to his throat, checking for a pulse and turning to Chalmers and Menzies when you found none. A simple shake of your head was all it took to communicate that you had lost the boy. Chalmers let out deep, aggrieved sigh while Menzies threw down a blood-soaked bandage with a wet slap and stormed back into the hospital. Gently setting the boy’s lifeless hands across his chest, you straightened slowly, feeling Bucky eyeing you from the other side of the cot.

Something ugly was welling up inside you, desperately trying to claw its way out, and you took a step back.

“Angelfish?” Bucky’s voice was low and cautious.

Your only response was to shake your head violently before stepping clear of the end of the cot, then breaking into a run. Following in the footsteps of Menzies, the words of the Army Nurse Corps pledge rang through your mind, the words you had sworn to serve by as a Nurse.

‘I shall approach him cheerfully at all times, under any conditions I may find…I shall appear fearless in the presence of danger and quiet the fears of others to the best of my ability.’

Reaching the end of the hallway, you stared at the door to your quarters and nearly choked on the idea of facing that stuffy, windowless room. You needed air. Needed to breathe. Turning sharply to the left, you continued along past the utility room and out the backdoor into the small courtyard between the hospital and the barbed wire fence that separated the Russian side of the camp.

‘…I will remember that, upon my disposition and spirit, will in large measure depend the morale of my patients.’

The flight nurse’s creed came flooding back to you next as you sought refuge between the back of the hospital and the bowed lines of laundry, stained sheets and bandages hung in the weak April sun to dry. What a different person you had been when you had spoken those damn words at your graduation from Flight Nurse Training.

Taking short, sharp gulps of air, each inhale was used to forcefully shove down the scream that was bubbling perilously in your throat. You paced to-and-fro, bloody hands planted on your hips. Surely you looked nothing short of mad when Bucky rounded the corner of the building, using that aggravatingly soft voice again as he spoke your name, making your head snap towards him.

“You’re not supposed to be back here.” You choked out, turning from him, fixing to flee once more.

“Too bad.” He ground out as he continued coming closer, clearly intent on comforting you, but if he got too near, you were terrified you were going to shatter entirely.

“Patients aren’t supposed to see me like this.” You could barely speak, hiccoughing and shuddering breaths intersplicing your words awkwardly as your grip on your emotions began to slip through your bloody fingers.

“Not here as a patient.” He muttered and slid his arms around you, pulling you close and you buried your face into his chest to let out a wail of agony – for the man who died in front of your eyes, for the horrid situation you found yourself in.

Somehow, you managed to maintain the wherewithal not to grab at him with your filthy hands, arms sticking straight out behind him awkwardly as you squeezed his sides with your elbows, knees threatening to give out as you found yourself not having to be the strong one for the first time in quite a long time. Bucky’s grip only tightened on you, fingers curling into your shirt to hold you up patiently as you cried yourself hoarse against him. Eventually there were no more tears to cry, the self-pity and grief you had stored up over the past few months running dry. Pulling back slightly, you wiped at your face with your sleeves, accidentally exposing a portion of the angrily scarred flesh on your left forearm.

Not missing the way his eyes flicked to it immediately, you sharply pulled your cuffs down and straightened fully. “You should get out of here before some goon puts a hole in you…”

It was supposed to be a joke, but your voice wobbled threateningly in abhorrence at the thought of losing someone else today, and Bucky promptly pulled you close again.

“Easy angelfish, not gonna get myself shot now. Not after you went through all the trouble of bringing me back.”

Sniffling affectionately against him, you pulled back to meet his eyes. “Thank you, Bucky.” You patted his chest fondly. “But please don’t go around carrying any more people with those broken ribs.” You gave him a stern look, finding it difficult to deliver as he smirked with a soft laugh in return.

With a soft sigh, you moved to return inside and assist with the clean up.

“Bucky?” You stopped and turned back to him suddenly.

“Yeah, angelfish?” He glanced over his shoulder, halfway to the other side of the building.

“What’s your first name?”

He raised an eyebrow. “John.”

Nodding slowly, you swallowed tightly. “Thank you, John.” You repeated firmly before pulling open the door and heading inside to the utility room to fill a bucket with some water to rinse out the bloody cot.

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Read Part Three

The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @luminouslywriting, @softspeirs, @sunny747, @storysimp, @slowsweetlove, @httpsmoon, @buckysegan, @justheretoreadthxxs, @precious-little-scoundrel

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #major john egan x reader #john egan x you #john egan fic #john egan imagine #john egan #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction

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thefirstlioveyou · 9 days ago

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what's with all those people walking passed our screens at rink o mania/the airport??

a initially believed these people were used just to distract us from mike and el's moment at the airport. i thought it was so weird that people were just covering the kiss. wouldn't you want us to see that? i guess they don't want us to care!

then i realized these people KEEP covering my damn view even after their kiss, and it continued even at rink o mania. it had to be a pattern.. and then i noticed. these people are only passing on shots that focus on mike. given all the evidence mike is being watched through the camera work, i believe these are just more evidence of so.

these people aren't being used to block out mike and el or block out anybody - they're there to single out somebody. something's watching mike at rink o mania and the airport.

(i'm gonna mostly provide ss because the scenes are obviously too long. here's what i've collected)

this specific shot (below) is so creepy. mike is the focal point, with his back turned to us - to the stalker. mike has no idea he's actively being watched as he's trying to be someone he's not - a shitty knockoff if you will lol. he thinks he's fooling everybody. but whoever or whatever it is that's watching, they ain't fooled at all. they're seeing it ALL.

these people continue to pass the camera even when they get to rink o mania

ah. yet again - mike is dead center. this is obviously love triangle imagery. but since we're starting to understand these are also stalker shots thanks to the walking people, this also represents as the stalker's main focus - mike.

and here too. we know he is the focal point of the shot here because the camera follows him and his pace. (also his bright ass fucking shirt is kinda hard to miss lmfao. which makes me think... could another reason why his shirt was yellow was to highlight/single him out for these shots?)

then we get the people during byler's fight - where mike also happens to unnecessarily clarify they're platonic and only platonic - as well. however this time it is more of an overall observation of the both of them

"but they're in public. it's just there to add to the environment and make it feel alive."

well.. yes. extras can be included to make the scene feel more alive. but all these people walking passed the screen is too distracting for it to just be there to liven the scene. there's more creative intent beyond that here. when you have said extras walking past your camera and blocking out your actors - and consistently on top of that - it's meant to inflict an emotion or tell you something. what emotion is all dependent on the context.

it can be used to create a feeling of being lost or making your audience feel crowded along with the character on screen. but obviously, here we aren't meant to feel either way. with the combination of the extras walking passed our screen and the focus on mike casually reuniting/having personal conversations, there's a feeling of intrusion here. what's happening isn't any of our business, yet we are still watching - something's still watching and it's watching with a target and goal in mind. It's looking for information.

we also know it isn't a coincidence because it's a reoccuring pattern with mike. we constantly see shots of him from weird angles and weird distances that make it seem as if he's being watched by something. this is just another piece of evidence to add to the folder.

#in conclusion #mike gets vecna'd #no but what the fu k is actually going on #mike wheeler #byler

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minniesmutt · 4 months ago

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❤︎ ━━━ STREAMS

❤︎ ━━━ SS + WC: 5 + 1K

❤︎ ━━━ CW: EXHIBITIONNISM/VOYUERISM, MASTURBATION, SEX TOYS, LIVE SEX/LIVE STREAM

Seungmin saw the tweet in the middle of his last class. Part of him was regretting having a night class right now. It had been a week since he and Ari had started talking but he felt like it had been longer. God how he wished he found her account sooner.

He got antsy waiting for his class to end. He kept glancing at his phone and the clock on the wall, waiting for the time to change, but it just seemed to move slower.

There were a million things running through his head, especially since they had talked out their kinks. He knew from the photos on her Twitter she had a few sex toys and a lingerie collection. He’d caught himself jacking off a few times during the week to her photos. What was she wearing on the stream? Was she wearing anything? He was a little too desperate to find out. And he could feel it.

‘Ten more minutes and then a five-minute drive back home.’ he thought.

Hyunjin was finishing up some paintings at the studio for his minor and let him know he would be home late. Usually, he’d use this time with his roommate away to make his own content but not tonight.

�� Part of him was about to risk it all to watch her until his professor said they were dismissed. He tried not to seem too hurried getting out of his class, blessing his oversized sweater from hiding his half-hard cock but the fabric of his jeans and boxers did little to make him feel comfortable.

He made his way out to his car, sighing in utter relief when he was locked away from the world. Just had to get back to his apartment and then he could relieve the pain of his erection.

He started his car and made his journey home as quickly and legally as he could. Then it was the short journey up to his apartment.

His phone in hand as he made his walk to her Twitter link she’d posted almost an hour ago as he finally stepped into his apartment and locked the door.

Dropping his bag and kicking off his shoes as he adjusted his phone volume. Hastily making his way as the stream loaded finally.

His eyes widened as he took in what he was seeing. The camera was angled down in an above shot of the bed. Ari laid on her back with her legs up and spread open, like when a dog rolls over to have its belly rubbed, while her hands groped her breasts. He didn’t fail to notice the tagless dog collar, knee-high socks, and the thrusting toy between her legs. The camera cut off just above her collar.

“Shit,” Seungmin groaned, making quick work getting his jeans and boxers off— just enough to get his dick out. He was gonna try and get to the bed but that didn't seem like an easy feat right now. Settling for leaning against his bedroom door.

Finding a bit of relief when his hand finally wrapped around his hard cock, the other hand holding his phone as steady and tight as he could so he didn't drop it.

The moans she was making sounded very breathless and whiny, with the occasional fucked out “thank you” when she received a donation. He wondered just how long the toy had been fucking into her. Her legs were visibly shaking, from the stimulation or holding the position too long? He didn't know. He just knew he wanted her underneath him as he pumped his neglected cock, almost in time with the toy unconsciously.

He watched her hands move from her nipples to grab the back of her thighs, pulling her legs down to her chest. He noticed just how wet she and the toy were now. He wanted to taste her so desperately at the moment. Gripping harder as he worked up to the tip, slowly sinking down to sit on the floor. Standing seeming like to much of a chore at the moment.

“‘S too much. I’m gonna come…” she moaned

He watched as another tip appeared on the screen before the toy sped up. He heard her little “thank you,” as her body shook again. The dildo on the end of the machine pumping in and out of her until she came again, squirting which seemed to make the chat he was barely paying attention too go wild. He saw a few user names claiming one more before she ended the stream. Everyone seeming to want to make her squirt again and Seungmin would be lying to himself if he didn’t wanna see it again too.

Tips came flooding in then and the toy picked up speed again before she had a chance to come down fully. The noises she was making and what he was seeing was enough to get him to cum. White fluid shooting out from his tip, some hitting the floor in front of him and some just running down to his hand.

He breathed out a heavy sigh as he took in his high. Still listening to her whines on the screen before the toy slowed down to a stop after she came once more for the viewers. His eyes glanced down at the screen.

Her body shook as her legs fell to the side, giving the camera a perfect view of her body while her hands lay next to her head. Chest moving up and down. He couldn't tell for sure but he had a sense her cunt was twitching from the orgasms.

“Thank you for coming everyone,” Y/n giggled a bit before saying goodbye and turning off her stream.

Seungmin took in a breath before getting up and cleaning himself and the floor up. Still thinking about what he watched. He had a feeling he was in deep shit from here on out.

Then another thought occurred to him once he fully came back to his senses as he laid back in his bed.

He could swear he’s heard those moans before. Just couldn't quite pin where

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#☾━━━━ [𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒]#stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader smut #skz x reader smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader smut #seungmin smut #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin smut #kim seungmin x reader smut #𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 chatroom!! {seungmin x reader}#seungmin smau #stray kids smau #skz smau #kim seungmin smau

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asofspades · 2 months ago

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I'm making a list of my favourite Four HC

- He has a necklace made from a shard of the dark mirror to remember Shadow and a strand of his hair is dyed purple in his honour.

- I like to count Four swords and Four swords adventures as separate adventures, so he's been on 3 adventures.

- Four Swords personally would be literally Link and 3 copies of him, I like to consider this as if the clones you can make in Minish Cap just had a solid body and thinking ability but Link does go back to being the same at the end of the adventure

- Obviously I like to incorporate the FS manga to his last adventure and this time Link splits into four different beings each a main part of his personality but over the course of the adventure they sort of become their own person

- That's why I headcanon that Four isn't really link as he was before his last adventure, for me all of the colours went back together into one body but remained separate, they usually work together and that would be Four as we know him.

- Obviously I love the HC that we have seemed to collectively agree on that Four's eyes change colour depending on who's more dominant at certain points.

- I do think that sometimes not all of them are driving the wheel together and that might be because they just went through a moment that required a lot of one of the specific colours or they're in disagreement

-That leads me to the HC that Four gets migraines when the colours are not in sync, which is another one most of the fandom seems to share.

- I'm also a fan of the "dark portals scramble the colours and thus Four" collective HC

- particularly I like to think that Four is both distrustful of dark magic because of the whole Vaati resurrecting and Ganon thing, and the soldiers and his father being controlled by that magic but also it makes him sad because it reminds him of Shadow's magic

- Also, while I HC that Vio was the closest to Shadow for obvious reasons I think when they merged into Four their memories and feelings were instantly registered by each other and now the other colours also appreciate Shadow for more than just sacrificing himself for them and Hyrule.

-I like to HC that he was almost the same age as Time was in OOT for his first adventure, as a bonus I like to think his bday is on the Picori Festival day which adds an extra layer of depth to both the beginning of his first adventure and his relationship with the Minish

- Following that logic I like to HC him as being freshly 8 y.o for his first adventure, around 11 for the second and almost 14 for the 3rd, and as such I love the idea that Vio and Shadow kind of developed crushes on each other.

- On that same note, since we can see Link as a soldier in the FS manga, but obviously there's only his Grandpa in MC, I like to HC that his father was deployed somewhere far away from Hyrule for diplomatic reasons (he's the captain of the royal guard after all) and he comes back after the first adventure. He gets told about what his child did and decides him joining the Royal Guard would be a good idea

- Following the previous HC, I like to think Link is not really enthusiastic about joining the Royal Guard because my boy got raised by his very cool blacksmith Grandpa who loves him very much and he's a little blacksmith at heart. Which kind of explains why he looks a bit done about being part of the royal guard, aside from the fact that he's literally saved Hyrule on his own before. That is also the reason he's so proud to be a blacksmith but never talks about having been in the Royal Guard.

- This is a more niche HC but since Four's era is way before OOT and way after SS I like to think the legal age changes a lot and so I HC that in Four's Hyrule you're considered an adult at around 14 so he's already working an paying taxes and is of marring age by the time he joins the chain.

- That brings me to another point and it's that I HC Four to be 16 in linked universe (I think that one's also pretty much shared by the fandom) but since legally he's been an adult for 2 years he gets thrown off by people calling him "kid" despite technically being the second youngest, he's a kid in basically everyone's time but his and I find that idea hilarious.

- Another commonly shared HC, four hasn't grown or has barely grown a cm since his first adventure because he overused minish magic, I like to add a twist and since you also turn into a minish in FS I like to think he grew a tiny bit between his first and second adventures but the overuse during the 2nd one was what did him in.

- Another HC is that four can in fact use the minish magic by himself, making him one of the Links with innate magic ability. Going a step further I think both Hyrule and Time can detect some Fae magic emanating out of him due to his entrenchment with the minish and his earring and sword (after all the four sword was forged form the remains of the Picori blade), Legend can sense some light magic coming off of him (he can canonically use innate magic and is attuned to magic artifacts) and Twilight can sense something similar to Midna's magic and the twilight mirror due to the dark mirror shard necklace Four carries.

Technically Wind can use light magic just because but I like to think he senses magic but really doesn't know what he's sensing at all because nobody bothered to explain magic to him even though he uses it a lot and often.

- okay, the shield think, we know the Shield in WW and MC are quite literally the same shield. And while I support people who have the whole "wind is Four's descendant" HC, for me personally I think people just knew it belonged to a hero and the people who found it after the great flood decided to keep it and it ended up becoming a family heirloom. Particularly they just mention that it belonged to a hero, and it's the first and only time that they don't mention that hero being the Hero of Time like they do in every other instance.

- the Palace of the Four Swords is a tricky one because me personally, I like to think that Four's soul is tied to his sword not only because he forged it but because of his second and particularly his 3rd adventure. Thus, when he dies he turns into a sword spirit and in the downfall timeline the sacred realm becomes the dark world and all inside it becomes corrupt and the sword that has been resting there for eras along with it's spirit gets corrupted as well prompting the events that happen at the FS palace in ALTTP.

- personally I like to think that since the Sacred Realm gate never opens in the child timeline the sword just rests in it's palace (built out of the elemental sanctuary that became the four sword sanctuary) along with it's spirit. And for the adult timeline it just rests underwater along with the rest of the old Hyrule forever undisturbed.

I find it really tricky that the splitting of the timeline ends up affecting previous heroes in the long run but it makes sense.

-Also, because SS takes place way way before MC I like to think the story of Sky is barely known outside of the Royal Family who might know a bit just because it's tied to their very existence. However I find that I like the idea that the people of the sky do know a version of said story and are descendants of the skyloftians who never took to the surface and that's why after living on the surface for a while by themselves they decided to go back to the skies and build a city on the cloud tops. Coincidentally since the Minish did come form the sky as well they might know about those stories. I think the molemits found in the wind ruins might be a version of the mogma mits from SS and the gust jar might have been inspired by the gust bellows from SS.

- Take I like, the blue ocarina in OOT that seems to be an heirloom of the Royal Family is in fact the Ocarina of Wind from MC, timeline wise it is the earliest apparition of that ocarina. My personal HC is Four gives it to Zelda either as a parting gift before parting on a trip where he ends up dying or he simply has it on his will to give Zelda that ocarina when he dies. With time the Royal Family unknowingly or knowingly infuse it with the power of the Goddess giving it the abilities we see in OOt and then in MM but, by the time it gets found by Legend in ALTTP is has basically lost all abilities except for the one to call a bird to bring you places. Personally I like to think that in the fallen timeline since the ocarina is in Link's hands when he fails it gets lost after being used to open the sacred realm and a regular someone ends up finding it prompting the side quest you do in ALTTP to get it.

- I also think that Four's relationship with his father is a bit rocky since he left the Royal Guard to become a full time blacksmith.

Some Colour headcanons

- Red enjoys using the fire rod but he doesn't like when people mess around too much with fire in forest because it reminds him of the third adventure

- Blue hates the cold because of the time he was encased in ice during the 3rd adventure

-Green has a need to save everyone because he still feels like he failed people during his 3rd adventure

- Vio likes to act all smug about his traitor act but he actually feels very bad about having tricked and betrayed shadow and he feels guilty that Shadow sacrificed himself after having been betrayed.

- Green also blames himself for Shadow and he finds it hard to be around their father because of the whole 3rd adventure.

#just random HC #four swords #four swords adventure #linked universe #linked universe hc #linked universe four #lu four #lu shadow #lu four hc #four hc #linked universe headcanons #lu four headcanons #fourdow #vidow #lu vidow #lu red #lu green #lu vio #lu blue

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shixcherie · 6 days ago

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Mutal Midnight Madness | Choi San, Jung Wooyoung, Kang Yeosang ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆Day 23 : Phone Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : After a hectic day at work, you decide to hop on a video call with your boyfriends, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and San. A special gift from San becomes your source of joy, while the boys keep you entertained all night.

☆Word Count : 2.9k ☆Genre : Smut, Idol-Au, Crack. ☆Pairing : Idol! Wooyoung x Idol! San x Idol! Yeosang x Stylist! F.Reader

☆☆☆WARNINGS : mdni!, pure Smut (18+), y/n was a stylist for the boys, menace WooSanSang, flirty texts on crack (ss inside for u my loves! 😉 ), use of sex toys (vibrator), phone sex, boys are busy with their “It’s You” mv while y/n is in Italy for her fashion show, lots of riling up, hella suggestive, edging, praise, petnames (cutie, kitten, baby, babygirl )

NOTE : Day 23 with my boys WooSanSang for you all. I am grinding hard to catch up because I was busy with exams so now I am working hard to finish this kinktober on time.

Hope y’all enjoy this piece, I loved writing it so much. I loved writing those flirty msgs on crack so have fun (ss are there waiting for you). Hope you enjoy and show some love to this ma cheries , I have tried something different.

“Y/n, how is the collection coming together ?” your collection director Amanda, asked as you diligently worked on your first clothing collection, set to be presented at Milan Fashion Week. After working as a stylist for four years, you were finally getting the chance to release your own collection.

“Yeah, it’s coming together really well.” you replied to Amanda, just as your phone pinged with a notification. You quickly turned it off.

“I’m already halfway done with the collection, Amanda. Just a few more pieces and some accessories I have planned. Once those are designed, I’ll be completely finished,” you continued, a satisfied smile spreading across Amanda’s face as she admired your work.

She noted the intricate details you’d incorporated, impressed by how you’d pulled inspiration from fantasy elements while still keeping the pieces wearable—a challenge you had tackled successfully.

“Really amazing work, Y/n. The collection truly feels like one cohesive piece, with different moving parts that all contribute to the main message, pulling it together beautifully.” she complimented you as your phone pinged again. You let out a nervous chuckle, quickly turning it off once more.

“Thank you so much, Amanda. I really hope this collection makes an impact on the Milan runway,” you replied, hoping it would be your big break into the glamorous world of fashion. Another ping.

“I’m sure it will. This might be the star collection of the season, given how diverse it is. It will definitely appeal to a wide audience.” she said. Your phone pinged yet again. “Y/n… that sounds like an important message. Why don’t you check it?” she urged.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing, Amanda. Just a few friends from Korea. You remember when I worked as a stylist there? It’s just them,” you replied, carefully hiding the fact that these friends were actually members of a famous boyband called Ateez.

“Ahh… I do remember. Anyway, I won’t take up more of your time. Good luck hun,” Amanda said before leaving the room. You took a deep breath, only to be startled by another ping on your phone.

A year ago, you had worked as a stylist for KQ Entertainment. Specifically, you were responsible for styling Wooyoung and San. With your social personality, you quickly became close friends with them—they enjoyed your company and admired the outfits you put together for them. Yeosang also became your responsibility to style when his stylist suddenly quit, and that’s where this beautiful, messy journey began: feelings, sneaky one-night stands, and a secret relationship that followed you to Milan. You quit your job as a stylist after a few months when an incredible opportunity arose to work on your own collection under Amanda. Leaving Korea, you moved to Italy but kept in touch with the boys, bound by the fun evenings and party-filled nights you had shared with them.

Finally, you opened the message that had your phone buzzing nonstop. Your eyes lit up at the notifications from your favorite group chat with the boys: Sinners Squad (you all thought the name was kind of silly, but it definitely fit whatever the four of you had going on, so you decided to keep it).

After a hectic evening, you finally returned home, eager for your video call with the boys. You missed them so much, and knowing they were busy shooting the “It’s You” music video only made you crave their presence more. The fact that they still made time for you, despite their hectic schedules, sent a rush of warmth through you.

What started as a no-strings-attached arrangement quickly spiraled into something thrilling. Playful flirting and heated exchanges deepened your bond, and memories of sneaky one-night stands ignited delicious tension between you. Their teasing words dripped with double meanings, leaving you breathless and craving more.

You all respected each other's craft, but the undeniable chemistry kept you longing for those stolen moments together. Their virtual support was laced with flirtation, and you often found yourself blushing at their suggestive comments, knowing this connection was anything but ordinary.

Now, their support came through sultry phone calls and steamy video chats, with each word of affirmation only intensifying the longing you felt for them. The group chat buzzed with playful banter, flirty remarks, and a few cheeky emojis that left you blushing, reminding you of the passionate yet playful connection you all shared.

Finishing your dinner, you freshened up, changing into your night clothes just as your phone lit up. A video call from the boys. Smiling, you picked up the call to find Yeosang’s beautiful, makeup-free face greeting you with a huge smile. In the background, you could hear Wooyoung yelling at Yeosang to stop showing him while he struggled to pull on his pants.

What the heck are you doing, Woo ?

Wooyoung finally managed to pull on his pants, his mischievous grin returning. "Okay okay…I’m decent now. But can you blame me ? This is a very important video call."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Important, huh ? What are you guys planning ? " as you wiggled your eyebrows at them.

Laughing at your antics, Yeosang leaned closer to the camera, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, Wooyoung, spill it! Are you going to suggest something scandalous ?"

Just then, San entered the frame, balancing a tray piled high with midnight snacks. “I brought snacks! I figured you guys could use some fuel for whatever trouble Woo was planning.”

“Perfect timing, San!” Wooyoung exclaimed, leaning back in his chair. “We were just about to decide how to spice up this call.”

“Oh really ?” you teased, leaning closer to your camera. “And what did you have in mind?”

Wooyoung’s grin widened. “How about a little game ? I dare you to tell us your wildest fashion story, and we’ll share ours too. Loser has to do a forfeit. Maybe a little strip tease for the camera ?” His challenge was way exciting to say no to do. Nodding you head, you wondered what you could share that will excite them.

You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up as a few stories swirled in your mind. “You really think I’d lose to you guys?” You shot back at them as Yeosang’s grin widened at you confidence.

San set the snacks down, a playful glint in his eye. “If you think you can handle the competition, then bring it on kitten!” He paused to wink at you before a mischievous smile dawned his face, “But just so you know, I’m pretty good at this.”

Yeosang chimed in, teasingly, “Just remember, Y/n, we have experience in the wild department. Are you ready to lose cutie ?” You chuckled but did not back down from the fun as a long night of spicy and fun conversations awaited you.

“Game on, boys.” you said, feeling the adrenaline rush as you prepared to share your wildest story. “But just so you know, I’m not going down without a fight.”

Wooyoung chuckled, leaning forward,eyes shining with mischief. “I like a girl who’s confident. This is going to be fun, baby.”

Everyone chuckled at his excitement while you set the phone on the bed in a way that they could get a full body view of you while they adjusted their phone to make it a hands free experience.

Wooyoung finally managed to pull on his pants, his mischievous grin returning. "Okay, okay... I’m decent now. But can you blame me? This is a very important video call."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Important, huh? What are you guys planning?" You wiggled your eyebrows at them.

Laughing at your antics, Yeosang leaned closer to the camera, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, Wooyoung, spill it! Are you going to suggest something scandalous?"

Just then, San entered the frame, balancing a tray piled high with midnight snacks. “I brought snacks! Figured you guys could use some fuel for whatever trouble Woo was planning.”

“Perfect timing, San!” Wooyoung exclaimed, leaning back in his chair. “We were just about to decide how to spice up this call.”

“Oh really?” you teased, leaning closer to your camera. “And what did you have in mind?”

Wooyoung’s grin widened. “How about a little game? I dare you to tell us your wildest fashion story, and we’ll share ours too. Loser has to do a forfeit. Maybe a little strip tease for the camera?” His challenge was way too exciting to say no to. Nodding your head, you wondered what story you could share that would excite them.

You laughed, feeling your cheeks heat up as a few stories swirled in your mind. “You really think I’d lose to you guys ?” you shot back as Yeosang’s grin widened at your confidence.

San set the snacks down, a playful glint in his eye. “If you think you can handle the competition, then bring it on, kitten!” He paused to wink at you before a mischievous smile crossed his face. “But just so you know, I’m pretty good at this.”

Yeosang chimed in, teasingly, “Just remember, Y/n, we have experience in the wild department. Are you ready to lose, cutie?” You chuckled but didn’t back down from the fun, as a long night of spicy and entertaining conversation awaited.

“Game on, boys,” you said, feeling the adrenaline rush as you prepared to share your wildest story. “But just so you know, I’m not going down without a fight.”

Wooyoung chuckled, leaning forward, his eyes shining with mischief. “I like a girl who’s confident. This is going to be fun, baby.”

Everyone laughed at his excitement while you set the phone on the bed, angling it to give them a full view of you, as they adjusted their phones to make it a hands-free experience.

“Alright, let’s get this game started!” Wooyoung declared, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Y/n, you’re up first. Share your wildest fashion story, and remember, it better be juicy.”

You took a deep breath, feeling heat flood your cheeks. “Okay, okay. So, there was this one time at a fashion show—”

Before you could finish, San interrupted, a playful smirk dancing on his face. “Wait, Y/n. If we’re going to share stories, let’s do it properly. You know, since we’re all friends here…” He leaned closer to the camera, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I brought something special for tonight.”

Curiosity sparked within you. “Oh ? Okay, San… what have you planned for me?”

He leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I may have sent you that toy you mentioned wanting to try out. Thought it could help you with your story, kitten.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened in playful delight. “You did what? Now I’m curious! You have to show us, Y/n!”

Wooyoung chuckled, “I knew I liked San for a reason. This just got a whole lot more interesting.” He leaned closer, his voice teasingly low. “Now, how about you give us a little demonstration while you share your story?”

You felt a rush of excitement course through you. “Alright, but you boys better be ready to share something too.” You had already opened the toy that San had sent earlier and were wondering when you’d get a chance to use it.

Guess the perfect opportunity just struck.

As you reached for the toy, Wooyoung licked his lips in anticipation. “Oh, we’re ready. Just make sure you keep your voice down so the hotel staff doesn’t come knocking.”

You smiled coyly, bringing the toy into view. “Just guide me through this, and I promise I’ll keep it interesting.”

“Okay, here’s the plan,” San said, his tone playful yet filled with a hint of seduction as he rubbed his hands. “While you pleasure yourself, we’ll each take turns describing what we’d do to you if we were there.”

“Sounds like a fair deal,” Yeosang added, leaning forward, his voice dripping with flirtation. “I can’t wait to hear what you think about my ideas.”

This whole setup was perfect, given how much you missed them. They could almost feel like they were right beside you. Wow! Why have we never tried this before, you thought as Wooyoung’s voice pulled you back to reality.

Wooyoung spoke, his tone low and inviting, beginning the chain of wild imaginations. “I’d love to start. Just imagine, Y/n. If I was there, I’d slowly push your legs apart, whispering in your ear how beautiful you look, how good you’d feel with my hands exploring every inch of you as you touch yourself.”

San’s eyes glinted with mischief as he joined in. “But don’t forget, Woo. I’d be right there, teasing you about how good you look in those cute pajamas while I watched you pleasure yourself. I’d want to hear every little sound you make as you feel that toy inside you.”

A soft gasp escaped your lips as you turned on the toy, the vibrations sending shivers of delight through your body. You could feel the warmth radiating from the three boys on the screen, their eyes filled with hunger as they watched you.

Yeosang smirked, leaning back slightly, his voice sultry and low. “Just think, Y/n. If we were all together, I’d take my time, tracing my fingers down your thighs while you touched yourself. I’d make you squirm, teasing you until you begged for more.”

Wooyoung leaned closer, his voice a seductive whisper. “That’s right, Y/n. Let us guide you through every part while we pleasure ourselves, too. Just picture us, all together, lost in this moment, completely focused on you.”

You could feel your pulse quickening, the toy’s vibrations mixing with their seductive words, stirring a delicious heat in your core. “I can definitely get used to this.” you said, a sultry smile dancing on your lips.

“Good, because we’re not done yet,” San teased, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Keep going, Y/n. We want to hear every sound, see every expression.”

With every twist of the toy and every word that escaped your lips, you felt the tension building within you. “Oh, you’re going to have to do better than that.” you challenged, your voice dripping with playful defiance.

Wooyoung laughed, his gaze intense. “Alright, Y/n, I’m just getting warmed up. Picture this: I’m right there, kissing up your body, my lips trailing along your neck while you get lost in your pleasure. I want to hear how much you crave it.”

San added, his voice a mix of urgency and teasing, “And I’d make sure you’re completely filled with pleasure, using that toy just like I would with my fingers plunged inside your dripping cunt, pushing you closer to the edge with a relentless pace until you can’t take it anymore.”

You moaned softly, the vibrations from the toy syncing perfectly with their words, urging you closer to ecstasy. “You guys are killing me.” you breathed, biting your lip.

Yeosang’s voice was low and coaxing, “Let go, Y/n. Come for us, baby. Just let the pleasure wash over you. We’re here, we’re watching, and we want you to enjoy every second.”

With a shaky breath, you continued, their voices guiding you deeper into your pleasure. “I can feel it building, guys… I’m so close.” Your hand gripped the sheets as the toy’s vibrations drew soft, pleasurable moans from you. The boys on the other side of the screen, watching your delicious movements with intense gazes, was the cherry on top.

“Amazing,” Wooyoung said, his voice thick with desire. “Now picture all three of us surrounding you, our lips worshipping your neck, your juicy breasts, and silky smooth thighs, our fingers taking turns entering and leaving your sweet cunt, making you feel so good you can’t help but scream our names.”

San chimed in, his words a seductive whisper. “We want to hear you fall apart, kitten. Don’t hold back. Let us feel how much you want us.”

The heat coiling in your belly reached its peak, and you felt yourself just on the edge. “I… I can’t hold on much longer!” you gasped.

“Then don’t.” Yeosang encouraged, his tone coaxing and smooth. “Let it all go, Y/n. We’re right here with you.”

With their voices urging you on, you let the waves of pleasure crash over you, your body responding to every command they gave. “Oh my god!” you cried out, surrendering to the ecstasy that consumed you, the toy helping you ride the high as you came all over your white sheets.

As you rode the wave of your climax, the boys cheered you on, their laughter and encouragement filling the room with warmth and joy.

Finally, as you came down from the high, your breaths came in shaky gasps, your heart racing as you basked in the afterglow of the experience. You looked at the screen, finding them all grinning, eyes bright with mischief and admiration.

“That was something else. Do you want us to send more of those toys, babygirl ?” Wooyoung asked, his expression a mix of satisfaction and playful intrigue, curious about your preferences now after trying the toy for the first time.

“I’d rather have you guys here instead of the toy, but wow, that was an amazing experience.” you replied, not quite ready to replace them with the toy just yet.

San nodded, smirking. “Just wait until we’re all together again, kitten.”

Yeosang added, his eyes sparkling. “Let’s just say, this mutual midnight madness is only the beginning.”

“Yeah! But I’m not against the idea of trying more toys if you want to watch me. So, keep them coming,” you teased before heading to the washroom to clean up, as the boys also hung up to clean themselves as Wooyoung had clearly made a mess of himself watching you pleasure yourself.

After this ecstatic call, your body craved more and more of these midnight moments as you got ready to sleep, bracing for a hectic workday tomorrow.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

Disclaimer : This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

Tag List : @star-my | @pixie0627 | @astuteataraxy

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weirdmarioenemies · 7 months ago

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I am going to like totally finally finish ranking the Mario galaxies today. Stop Me.

Thank you for you're patience. We can talk about the top 5 galaxies now

I'm not gonna bother with any prelude, you've waited for this for like years now I know you want the Goods so here you go!

5. Blue Grass Galaxy

Tier: S+ Debut: Super Mario Galaxy 2

Blue Grass Galaxy is quite possibly the most elusive galaxy in the series. It was shown off briefly in the first ever Super Mario Galaxy 2 trailer, but when the game came out, it seemed like it was nowhere to be seen... Not even datamining could find it!

But as it turned out, we just weren't looking hard enough, because if you manage to grab every Green Star as Mario in a single sitting in under two hours without losing a single life, and then beat the Perfect Run, also without losing a single life, you unlock... A series of Red Stars for each Galaxy! And once you collect all of those in under an hour as Luigi without losing any lives, once again followed by another perfect Perfect Run, you unlock a bonus Hungry Luma on the World Map, who needs to be fed 9999 Star Bits on all three save files (so have fun speedrunning the green and red stars again!) before finally transforming into the Blue Grass Galaxy.

Of course, because the files for the Blue Grass Galaxy weren't included in the game, you'd need to download it by using a special, randomly-generated code on the Wii Shop Channel, but once you finally did, you could finally play the Blue Grass Galaxy to your heart's content. I know it might seem like quite the grind to get here, but man, every second you spend in the Blue Grass Galaxy is so immaculate, it makes the whole grind worth it. I almost don't have the words to describe how good it is, you'd really need to experience it for yourself! Sadly, you can't anymore, ever since the Wii Shop Channel shut down... Ah well. You really had to be there, I guess. I know some people were disappointed by it just reusing the Puzzle Plank Galaxy music, but I love that music so much that I don't mind.

My only gripe with the galaxy, and the main reason it only landed in the #5 spot, is because of the name. They called it the "Blue Grass" Galaxy, but that grass is very clearly green. This might seem like a pretty petty reason to put it so low, but when you get up that high, the small things can make a big difference, you know? If they called it the "Green Grass Galaxy" or the "Blue Sky Galaxy," I could easily imagine it getting the #1 spot, but respectable effort nonetheless, and a worthy reward for Super Players.

4. Wet-Dry World

Tier: SS Game: Super Mario 64

I know what you may be thinking. "What could Wet-Dry World be doing on a list of Super Mario Galaxies?" Well, it's a World in a 3D Mario platformer where you can collect Power Stars. Need I say more? And ever since Throwback Galaxy confirmed Whomp's Fortress is a Galaxy, it's easy to extend this logic to the rest of Super Mario 64. So Wet-Dry World gets to make the top 5 also.

I mean, how would it not? It's a galaxy with a cool and unique gimmick! The idea of the height you enter at deciding the water level when you enter in is super cool, and I love all the ways they tie this gimmick into the galaxy's different missions. And while this might seem like a small thing to a lot of people, as a mod of Weird Mario Enemies, I can't help myself: I will ALWAYS love a galaxy that includes such memorable enemies as Chuckya and Skeeter! So Cool!

Even in a time before Super Mario Galaxy, they managed to get the "otherworldly" feeling of this location down pat! I mean, there's the fact the skybox is distinctively underwater, even when you're on dry land, there's the fact the way you adjust the water level is via these abstract crystals, there's the whole abandoned underwater city, giving hints as to long-gone civilizations and possible Wet-Dry World Lore, this galaxy has it all! I know some people say it has a Negative Emotional Aura, but those people just don't know the meaning of good atmosphere.

3. SNES Mario Circuit 3

Tier: Good Debut: Super Mario Kart

For the #3 slot, it should only make sense that it's a place with "3" in the name. I know lots of you were probably expecting SNES Bowser Castle 3 to end up here, but it's just hard for me to ignore SNES Mario Circuit 3's legacy. I mean, it's been in five different games for crying out loud! It's hard for a course to show up in five games if it's not really good, right?

SNES Mario Circuit 3 may seem like a really basic course at a glance, what with it being completely flat and everything. Not a lot of bells and whistles in this one, that's for sure. But a better look at it reveals it to be a surprisingly technical track, with some tight turns that require good brake drifting to take optimally, and a bevy of off-road shortcuts that reward players for good item usage. While lots of courses get by thanks to their flashy gimmicks and setpieces, SNES Mario Circuit 3 cements itself as a fan-favorite as a pure test of players' skill. I mean, again, I have to assume it's a fan-favorite if it's in five games.

I also need to give a shoutout to SNES Mario Circuit 3's Atmosphere. The course has hardly changed at all since its original incarnation on the SNES, making it like, totally retro, and the staircases and flagpoles representing the original Super Mario Bros. only help to cement that identity. It also gives the course a very unique, almost liminal sort of feeling. The yellow sky is also an interesting touch. Is it merely set at sunset, or is it a biting commentary on how 30 years of go-karting have caused enough pollution to change the color of the sky? I'll let you be the judge.

Either way, it makes sense why this course has cemented itself as such a fan-favorite, and manages to always get picked in Mario Kart 8 Deluxe online lobbies. It's just that Good!

2. Milky Way Galaxy

Tier: X Game: Real

i live here hi!!!!!! :D

1. Sling Pod Galaxy

Tier: The "S" is for "Slingpodgalaxy" Game: Super Mario Galaxy

It's always the ones you least expect who win in the end... I may have ranked it dead last when I started this series, but by using the momentum of the Sling Pods, it managed to slingshot itself allllll the way to the top! Bet you didn't see this one coming! But really, it should be obvious. This galaxy is an incredible test of timing and precision, offering a good challenge for skilled players, and with an aesthetic reminiscent of the beautiful Space Junk Galaxy, it ends up winning me over in more ways than one!

There's no question that as soon as you have enough Star Bits saved up to reach Sling Pod Galaxy that you should make a mad dash to the Fountain and shove them all into that Hungry Luma's mouth, because the Sling Pod Galaxy is an experience you'll never forget! And since it's a great place to farm Star Bits too, it practically pays for itself! Bonus!

Wow! What a wild ride that was !!!! hopefully we all learned something at the end.

i'll post the real top 5 some other time i'm sorry

#super mario galaxy #super mario galaxy 2 #mod hooligon #april fools

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waytoointoships · 5 months ago

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I’ve been getting into WuWa recently… so

Providing you all some yandere!scar x rover (male is mentioned but I think it could go for both) hcs…

(Below cut is both a ss of what I was saying and the text)

Text from the screenshot:

I feel like from this one convo his main trait would be manipulation, twisting the truth just enough for rover,,, He’d twist it up and leave it off, leaving the hints subtly in the way he wants rover to think, so he can connect the path to what he wants him to believe. He doesn’t say it but he’ll make him think it

i feel like he’d stage it all perfectly, no hints of anything being amist, just so rover can collect these clues and piece together the story twisted by scar to paint those rover trust to be against him,,,

I’m being provided the thoughts™️ i will give more as they come

Thinking a thought of the way rover stays with him is that he’s painted absolutely anyone he can trust to be against him with how he twists it all,,, he paints himself as the only honest one, or maybe, he doesn’t include himself in these twisted tales, just letting rover come to him with questions and answering them how he thinks,,, rover stays because he thinks he’s honest, or the only one he can trust since he’s but a pawn to everyone else

maybe scar calls rover “little lamb” or “lamb” instead, because he’s so innocent, so innocently unaware of whats going on, innocently naive in trusting scar, although if rover ever asks probably because he’s so innocently adorable

yes it is based on this one scene where scar is talking about the village ruined

Thinking about Rovers friends trying to discourage him, trying to keep him away from scar, but with each attempt only comes failure because he’s simply so curious, too curious, each time scar learns of this, he figures out a way to loosen the knot of his trust in them until it snaps free, he gets to watch as Rover distances himself from them simply because he is scared that they’re taking advantage of him, not realizing he’s falling into the hands of the puppeteer

End

I have more thoughts for this but

#blockable tag #scarover #scar x rover #wuwa #wuthering waves #wuwa rover #wuwa scar #scar wuwa #rover wuwa #yandere #yandere scar #tw yandere #tw manipulation #manipulation

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nightskylersstuff · 8 months ago

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Suddenly, I came up with an idea for a new ss au...

Star Spire!

An au based on the stars, of course, and space, but still with candies and sweets... Which made out of stars

And here's some designs for this au!

Pizzelle, Rosette and Marble. Pizzelle came to the star spire to collect stars and candies, and Rosette with Marble are here to help. These three can fly... Just a little bit

Pizzano and Stinky. Pizzano is here just to mess with Pizzelle and Stinky has no other choice but to follow his boss. These two can't fly, but Stinky made jet boots to solve this problem

The G and his bouncer rat. Nothing really changed about them, still guarding the boss gates until Pizzelle gives the G money... They also can't fly, but they don't really need that anyway

Gumbob and Sheriff. How did they get in the spire? Anyway, they're gonna support Pizzelle on her way to the top of the spire. Moral support counts, right? Sheriff can fly a little bit and Gumbob uses jet boots

The Painter(sorry, he came out not that good, I drew him for the second time...). Just like in the original sugary spire, he's Pizzelle's ally... What does he do to help anyway? I guess he's just here to paint some space landscapes. He can fly a little bit

Coneboy and Confecti. They're all made out of stars just like all other sweets. These little guys also can fly

And finally. Berry/Conehead and Coneball(Starcream?). The main antagonists and bosses of the star spire. And it's obvious that they can fly

And that's kinda all for now. Probably gonna draw and post more about this au sometime later...

#sugary spire #pizzelle #rosette #pizzano #sugary spire stinky #sugary spire the g #sugary spire gumbob #sugary spire sheriff #coneboy #sugary spire confecti #sugary spire the painter #conehead #coneball #pizza tower #pizza tower au #the tags are a mess

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blurredcolour · 6 months ago

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The Only Truth... | Part Four

The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x POW Flight Nurse!Female Reader

The day Stalag VIIA is liberated ought to be one of pure celebration. Unfortunately, fate has other plans in store.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Death, Blood, Brief Battle, Serious Reader Injury [gunshot wound], POW Camp Setting, SS Officers, Mental Health Struggles, References to Christianity, Reader Scars, Hospital Setting, Kissing, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Rating - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: Thank you all ever so much for your patience! At last we come to the end of our tale. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 6267

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The morning of Sunday, April 29, 1945, dawned cloudy but bright. The chill of early spring still hung in the air, your breath hanging from your lips as you ducked out into the tent to collect the clean yet still-unfolded laundry that had been awaiting your attention throughout the drama of the rainstorm. You had just managed to tuck it away into your room when Fitzgibbons arrived with a new book for you to read, a more recently published fantasy novel called The Hobbit, though you had other priorities before diving into it.

You had almost gotten away with your clandestine chores, rags folded, and three-quarters of the bandages rolled, when your former surgical technician appeared at your door, knocking on the frame with an admonishing look on his face.

“I see you’re taking it easy on your day off, Ma’am.”

Huffing in irritation at being caught, you shook your head. “I’m off my feet, Fitz, can’t we just call a truce?”

He made a non-committal noise before cracking a grin. “Actually came to ask a favor, so I’m thinking we can come to an agreement. Menzies,” his deliberate mispronunciation of the British Captain’s name made you roll your eyes affectionately, “ordered me to flush a wound using your make-shift tools and honestly, I cannot make heads or tails of what you’ve jerry-rigged.”

Biting back a laugh, you nodded quickly, well aware that your cobbled-together system was more than a little unorthodox and not at all surprised Menzies had not taken the time to ensure Fitzgibbons knew how it worked. “Certainly, let me walk you through it.”

Grabbing the laundry you had thus far folded, you made your way down the hall to collect the items from the supply desk and followed him to the bedside of a new patient. Introducing yourself warmly, you learned the man’s name was Michaels and he hailed from the frigid wilds of Canada.

“Fitz and I are going to use this here to flush that wound, alright?” You nodded to the nasty laceration on his calf, your makeshift instruments cradled in your arms.

“Sounds fine, Ma’am.” He nodded patiently, vowels clipped remarkably short in that efficient Canuck way of speaking.

“Alright so if you take this, Fitz.” You held out a funnel with a piece of tubing secured to it, watching the tech take it carefully.

The mundane calm of the morning was shattered by the sudden hum of an airplane engine, your eyes shooting to meet Fitzgibbons’ sharply moments before the eruption of gunfire.

“Everyone get down!” He shouted and you both lurched into motion to begin helping your patients from their cots onto the wooden planks of the tent platform, abandoning your instruments on Michaels’ cot.

Panic rising as you once again found yourself in a wildly unsafe place while under fire, you urged the men from their beds to get low, presenting smaller targets for the errant bullets that were punching holes through the canvas of the tent every so often. The cacophony outside only increased with the rumble of approaching vehicles – tanks quite possible given the depth of sound that carried across the camp – and you nearly tripped over your own feet in an effort to reach the last two patients who simply could not move on their own.

Heaving one, Sidhu from India, out of his cot and depositing him onto the floor, you were just sliding your arms beneath the shoulders of the last, Hernandez from Texas, when searing heat and pain punched into your side. Your arms and legs gave out beneath you instantly, your body collapsing atop the poor boy still on his cot, both of you gasping for breath. With a grunt of annoyance, you flung a hand back to your hip, eyes widening as your fingertips were quickly covered in a warm, slick fluid.

“M…Ma’am?!” Hernandez warbled from beneath you, watching as you lifted your fingers to inspect just what was going on, his face blanching at the unmistakable scarlet of blood. “Doc?! Medic!! Help!!!” He began to shriek all the words he knew to summon assistance, making you wince at the racket as you forced yourself to roll off him, crashing to the floor in a pile of uncooperative limbs.

Taking a moment to try and catch your breath, pulse rocketing at an alarming rate, you began to realize that no matter how long you lay there, things were not improving. In fact the situation was growing a lot more serious as a deep ache was settling into your right side and you could feel your clothes growing damper with blood by the second. Rolling onto your stomach, you had just begun to feebly pull yourself across the floor of the tent when the racket outside subsided momentarily, Hernandez’s cries summoning several sets of boots to run in your direction.

A great, external cheer erupted in the same moment you were lifted by many hands onto one of the recently vacated cots, Chalmers, Menzies and Fitzgibbons all hovering above you as they yanked at your shirt and pants to get at your wound. The striking similarity between your plight and that of Simms set your teeth on edge, tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden thought that this could really be it. You might very well die here in these filthy, mud-covered clothes while the rest of the camp cheered on outside.

“Keep breathing for me, Nurse. You’ve got an entry and an exit wound, you just stay with us now.” Chalmers barked firmly and you managed a brief nod despite the shakes that seemed to want to rattle your bones. “Fitz go find out if they’ve got a Medic with them – we need sulfa and plasma, and she needs an aid station and surgery.”

“Sir!” He replied before you heard his frantic footfalls leave the tent.

Menzies applied a ruthless amount of pressure to the front and back of your hip and it was all you could do not to wail pathetically at the lances of pain that shot through you. “I know, Nurse, I know. For your own good, now. Why’d you have to go and get yourself shot in the middle of our liberation, hm?”

“Libe.r.ation?” It was difficult to form the word, your mouth clumsy and filled with cotton, head buzzing with adrenaline and pain.

Your heart was beginning to lose its rhythm, stuttering and skipping beats every so often. Your medical training offered a whispered explanation of ‘blood loss’ which did nothing for the suffocating feeling of panic in your chest.

“Looks like your American Army showed up to bring you home, so let’s make sure you can get there alright?” Chalmers added firmly and you nodded again, trying to take deep breaths.

You were so close. They were right there.

What had started as a frigid day seemed to be growing colder, your fingers tips positively icy by the time you heard Fitzgibbons return, giving someone a rundown. The familiarity of it made your heart ache for a simpler time when the two of you were the ones saving people, taking them from danger to safety. Now you were the one in peril, finding it remarkably difficult to keep your eyes open. The unfamiliar face of a young man in an Army helmet came into view before you felt the sting of sulfa on your wounds.

Your left sleeve was rolled up, your nonsensical protests going unheeded as the man began to search for a vein, inserting an IV for the bottle of cheery yellow plasma – the bright color anachronistic to the monochromatic color palette that pervaded the Stalag. Bandages were wrapped tightly around your middle once more and they were just about to lift you, cot and all, when another set of heavy footfalls sounded on the floorboards.

“Jesus christ…angelfish…” Bucky’s voice was unmistakable, though anguished, and you rolled your head to the side to look at him with a weak smile.

“Bucky.” You managed to form his nickname at a volume no more than a whisper, vision narrowing in on his pinched, tight features, the normally rosy hue completely drained from his cheeks.

Suddenly everything tilted and whirled as your cot was hoisted onto the shoulders of Chalmers, Menzies, Fitzgibbons, and the Medic.

“Take the plasma, Egan. Hold it up, keep pace.” Chalmers ordered sharply and the ceiling of the tent began to blur as they rushed out into the daylight, your vision going completely white before all was darkness.

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

The morning had seemed like any other, crowded around a small campfire trying to keep warm, trading suppositions about the end of the war with Jefferson, when the unmistakable sound of an aircraft engine had broken through the din of the camp.

“Hey Macon, that’s a P-51!” Jefferson had shouted and instantly the entire population was on their feet, cheering on the pilot as he took out on of the guard towers.

Their elation was short lived, the abrupt sound of incoming artillery sending all the prisoners into the dirt as every single German soldier seemed to open fire as one, the camp instantly an active battlefield. Bucky’s eyes strayed to the hospital tent, its canvas walls helplessly pinned between the encroaching American tanks and the defending German guards. They needed to put a stop to this from the inside before any more lives were needlessly lost. Even as this thought crossed his mind, men were falling all around him.

“Fellas! Take out the tower!” Bucky shouted as he ran for the tent where the majority of the Americans were sheltering, seeking out the homemade stars and stripes they had carefully crafted and transported from camp to camp, kept hidden from goons, just for such an occasion.

It took a few tries before Jefferson successfully came up with the flag, passing it to him quickly. Dashing through the chaos of prisoners running hither and thither through the camp, some fleeing, some fighting guards, Bucky was boosted onto the roof of the administration building. The flagpole was less than sturdy as he climbed it but as he removed the Nazi war flag and tossed it to the cheering crowd below, the guns fell quiet. Securing the ragtag American flag, watching the breeze immediately catch and fly it high, an immense feeling of relief wash through him and after taking a moment to celebrate, he pressed his forehead to the hand-hewn timber of the pole to soak in his gratitude for making it this far. Though the ragged appearance of his country’s flag undoubtedly mirrored his own.

As he carefully climbed down the rickety pole, his eyes caught on a somewhat familiar figure running frantically through the crowd toward the gate, moving against the flow of those milling around the yard, celebrating. The man’s shouts carried intermittently on the wind across the crowd and Bucky managed to pick out “Medic,” his heartrate picking up at the word “Nurse.” His stomach dropped when the word “shot” reached his ears.

“Angelfish.” He whispered and quickly scrambled his way off the roof, wincing a little at his rough landing, before he began to shove his own way through the oblivious celebrants towards the hospital.

Skidding to a stop on the threshold of the tent, he was startled to find all the patients cowering beneath their cots while you lay on one of their abandoned beds, a bloody mess surrounded by men frantically trying to save you.

“Jesus christ…angelfish…” He choked out, throat clenching painfully as your head lolled to the side, slightly unfocused eyes meeting his.

“Bucky.” Your faint whisper of his name propelled him forward, a frown settling over his features at the state of your clothes, wanting nothing more than to cover up the expanse of your abdomen and the scar on your arm – you surely hated to have that so prominently on display.

Chalmers’ sudden directive for him to manage the plasma grabbed his attention and he quickly grasped the glass bottle, holding it high as they lifted the entire bed to begin carrying you out of there.

“Just hold on, angelfish.” He rasped, heart lurching painfully as your eyes rolled back in your head, your body going slack.

Running alongside you to the gate despite the way his lungs ached, the crowd mercifully parted before their odd little group. A jeep was waiting with a stretcher strapped to the back, and Bucky watched helplessly as your unsettlingly limp form was transferred from the cot, the bottle of plasma wrenched from his fingers by the Medic before he perched atop your legs. As the vehicle took off, the Lieutenant Colonel of the armored division strode over sternly.

“How the devil did a nurse end up as a POW?” He demanded as Lieutenant Colonel Clark came to stand on Bucky’s right.

Chalmer’s sighed deeply before sharing what he knew of your story, of your arrival back in January including the fact that the Red Cross was informed through the usual process, and how you were housed separately in the hospital. As Fitzgibbons, the very same surgical technician you had earned your burns pulling out of your plane, filled in the rest of your service history, Bucky could only reflect on how little he really knew you. How short his time with you had actually amounted to be. Hell, he would not have even known your squadron number if it was not for that conversation right then.

“What a SNAFU.” The man muttered and Bucky could certainly see the resemblance of the man’s commanding officer, Patton, in him. “Well, let’s get this formal surrender over with so we can get these boys home.”

Clark nodded in return and Bucky shuffled back to sit heavily amongst the men of the 100th, waving off Brady’s look of concern. Watching the salutes and handshakes, he was completely numb, his thoughts miles away with wherever they had taken you, only able to hope against hope that their aid station was of the highest calibre.

Bucky had not resorted to prayer often throughout the war. Sure he had worn a crucifix and crossed himself reflexively when flying into a hail of flak, but conversations with higher beings had never been something he had put much stock in. Faced, now, with this gnawing feeling of helplessness, your very survival in the balance, it seemed like the only tool left at his disposal.

Crammed into the tent that night, shoulder-to-shoulder with his neighbors, he felt rusty and self-conscious as he addressed the god of his childhood Sunday school and fairly begged for you to make it. He stopped short of bargaining his own life away, but barely, before sleep overtook his aching body, the exertions of the day overtaking him.

As he found himself jostling in the back of a transport truck on his way to Paris the next day, handpicked by Lieutenant Colonel Clark to be among the first sent back to England, he could not help but feel as though he was being driven further and further away from you. It was near night by the time they pulled into the base and Bucky took his first warm shower in over a year, changing into a fresh uniform and feeling almost human. They were served white bread that might as well have been cake, with steak and eggs that were too rich for him to endure more than a few bites before he crawled into a remarkably clean bed and slept deeply, exhaustion winning out over his continuous concern for your well being.

Climbing into the belly of a B-17 for the first time in over eighteen months felt awkward and painful, the crew from the 100th consisting of unfamiliar replacements, the space feeling more cramped than it ever had as he wedged himself into the cockpit behind the pilot. The deep-seated terror he had desperately been trying to supress, his fear that Buck had not made it to safety despite their planning and the beating he had taken to distract the guards, surged to the fore of his mind. It competed ruthlessly with his anxiety over whether you were still drawing breath, the fact that he may have to face the truth of losing both of you leaving him silent and withdrawn as the plane took flight.

There was no immediate answer awaiting him at Thorpe Abbotts either, no familiar faces lining the tarmac – not even Lemmons was around, which struck him as unsettlingly odd. Making his way to the CO’s hut, his eyes at last landed on a familiar face as Herrmann emerged from one the equipment sheds.

“Hey Winks! Where is everybody? Guy comes back after a year-and-a-half and no one’s around?” He plastered on a playful smirk as the boy’s face broke out into a grin of astonishment, shaking his hand vigorously as he rushed over.

“Buck took Rosie, Douglass, Croz, and Kenny up on one of those mercy missions they’ve been practicing for, they should be back any time now, sir. Gosh it’s great to see you back here.”

Bucky’s attention immediately snagged on the first name Herrmann mentioned, finding it immensely difficult to continue listening as he exhaled half of the tension that had strangled him all the way across the English Chanel. “Good to be back, Winks. Think you can give me a lift?” He raised an eyebrow, desperate for a moment of levity.

With a quick nod, Herrmann was promptly driving him towards the control tower. The most difficult part of getting up there was making it past all the congratulatory pats and handshakes, but Bucky was able to pull off his surprise, the sound of Cleven’s voice over the radio going a long way to mending some of the deep wounds he was still sporting.

More handshakes and pats-on-the-back awaited him at the hardstand and it finally felt like he was back amongst the familiar faces of these men. He did not miss the way Cleven’s eyes were quietly scrutinizing him, however. The gratingly familiar feeling that his friend was looking right through him was undeniable as he joked and smiled with the boys who had never been imprisoned. Who had not endured the things they had. As the crowd around them thinned out, Bucky turned to watch Cleven pull out one of his toothpicks, sliding it between his molars in a familiar yet long-lost motion.

“So what you been up to since I left?” His friend asked.

Bucky swallowed and shrugged a little walking over to the jeep, Cleven immediately sliding into the passenger’s seat out of habit.

“That terrible, huh?” Cleven muttered and Bucky sighed as the vehicle roared to life.

“Ended up in Moosburg.” He started out slow, with simple facts. “Got a little hurt on the way, so Brady and Hambone took me to the hospital. Turns out there was a Nurse there, POW since January.”

The look of shock on his friend’s face registered in the corner of his eye and Bucky did not have the heart to fully face him.

“The German’s held a woman prisoner?” Cleven shook his head with a sigh of dismay.

“She got shot during the liberation, stray bullet. Medics from the armored division took her and I have no idea if she made it.” Now that he had started telling the story it all just came pouring out of him.

“You care about her more than just on moral grounds.” Cleven stated matter-of-factly and Bucky sighed as he pulled up in front of what used to be their hut.

Who knew if it still was.

“Yes.” He begrudgingly admitted, though his admission was addressed to the steering wheel.

There was a long, drawn-out silence, the incessant chirping of sparrows filling in the gap in conversation and Bucky realized he had not really heard a bird his entire time in captivity. His head snapped sharply to look at Cleven as he suddenly spoke again.

“If anyone can find someone in the chain of evacuation it’ll be Smokey.”

Bucky furrowed his brows a moment before it clicked. “Doc Stover? You think?”

Cleven shrugged. “He’s our best shot I guess.”

“Our…”

“Are you going to drive us to the hospital, or should I?”

A grin pulled at Bucky’s lips as he started the jeep back up and took a sharp U-turn, heading for the base hospital. He pretended not to notice the way his friend’s eyes lingered on the stiff movement of his body as he climbed out of the jeep – he was definitely sore but was most certainly not going to admit to it. The wards were just as populated as they had been in 1943, something he found rather infuriating. It was another feeling he tucked into a neat little package and shoved down to be ignored until a more convenient time. Or perhaps never to be acknowledged again.

Stover was easy to find, dressed in his white coat, just finishing his rounds.

“Majors, what can I do for you?” He gestured for them to follow him into his office and Bucky sank down into a chair heavily, once again ignoring another man’s assessing gaze on him.

“Well it’s an odd request really but…” He trailed off, hesitating as he smoothed his too-long hair, reflecting once again that he needed a proper haircut.

“We’re wondering if you might be able to track someone down for us. Someone who was injured at a camp in Moosburg and evacuated to an aid station.

Stover raised an eyebrow curiously. “One of your fellow POWs?”

“Something like…. well yeah, she is.” Bucky corrected himself midway through, watching the doctor’s eyebrows shoot up dramatically. “Flight Nurse from the 802nd MAES, POW at Moosburg since January of ’45, shot during liberation and taken to the aid station of Patton’s 3rd Army – armored division. Which division I don’t know.”

They watched as Stover quickly grabbed a pen and started jotting down the important details, including your name.

“How bad was she hurt?” Stover asked and Bucky swallowed tightly.

“I didn’t see it happen but there was a gunshot to her stomach somewhere. They got her on plasma quickly.” He added hopefully but Stover’s face remained grim.

“I can’t promise you anything Major Egan, it doesn’t sound particularly hopeful either, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Doc.” He nodded, leveraging himself out of the chair with a barely concealed wince.

“And what do you have going on?” Stover stayed seated, eyeing him expectantly.

Bucky noticed Cleven had not budged either, the bastard. Emptying his lungs with a heavy exhale, Bucky put his hands on his hips and shrugged.

“Couple of broken ribs, I’ll be alright.” He replied nonchalantly.

“And how old are these broken ribs?” Stover prodded and Bucky ignored Cleven’s pointed look up at him.

“Couple weeks, I’m halfway mended, just overdid it getting in the fort to come back.”

Stover rose from behind his desk and opened a cabinet, fetching a bottle and holding it out to him. “Aspirin, to keep you comfortable. Take two every four hours as long as you need. Come back if you run out.”

Bucky accepted the bottle with a nod of thanks, the memory of you scrounging up two rare pills for him in the Stalag flooding back, furrowing his brows. The things you could have done in a place like this with limitless supply.

“Thanks again, Doc.” Cleven’s expression of gratitude pierced through his reminiscing and Bucky nodded quickly, tucking the pills into his pocket before heading out quietly.

Accommodations were procured and there was not much for him to do around base aside from rest and learn how to eat properly once more. It took several days for any news of your condition to reach him, via Stover’s connections, but when the man pulled him into his office on the morning of the May 5, he was stunned to learn that not only were you alive, but that you had been air evacuated to Redgrave Hospital just thirty minutes away from Thorpe Abbotts.

You were safe. You were close.

“Seems they weren’t quite certain what to do with her, but as she serves under the Army Air Force, they sent her to our main hospital.” Bucky realized Stover was still talking and he shot him a warm grin before grasping his hand to shake firmly.

“Well I really appreciate your help, Doc. I’ve gotta…” Bucky glanced over his shoulder at the door, desperate to make his way to you.

“Yeah, go…” He chuckled and shooed him out of his office.

No longer a squadron commander, Bucky technically did not have a jeep of his own to disappear with off base and so he was in the process of grabbing one of the stray bikes outside the control tower when Crosby emerged into the daylight, eyes squinting in fatigue at the brightness.

“Where are you off to Major?”

“Redgrave Hospital!” He replied brightly, watching the younger man blink.

“Sir that’s a good eleven miles, that’s a terrible idea with your ribs.”

Word seemed to have spread fast…

“Take my jeep, I’m not gonna need it today.”

“Croz, you are a lifesaver.” Bucky dropped the bike he had been wrangling to slap him on the back before diving into the jeep allotted for use by the Group Navigator. “I’ll be back!” He shouted, taking off in a spray of dust and gravel.

Turning onto the two-hundred-acre country estate, Redgrave Hospital, consisting of nearly forty Nissen huts, stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the trees and landscaped green. As he pulled up to the headquarters of the hospital, Bucky quickly realized that the staff there were not nearly as excited to see him. In fact, they were downright reluctant to allow him in to visit you, but assured him that while you were ‘heavily medicated and resting’ you were still ‘on the mend.’

While relief still permeated his system, it was a new agony to have you so very close and yet still out of his reach. If they were not going to permit him as a regular visitor, Bucky realized he was going to have to get a lot more creative in order to lay his eyes on you, and until he did, there would be not real peace.

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Moments of clarity punctured through the blackness – a blur of trees, the flurry of activity of an aid station, the masked face of a surgeon speaking to you reassuringly, the heartbreakingly familiar interior of a C-47 – but it was not until you were settled in a bed inside a hospital with four walls, windows, and nurses that true cognizance really returned to you. Casting your eyes around the sterile, white space, you noted you were situated at the end of a row and walled off from other patients with a set of privacy screens. The most striking feature of this hospital was the very stern-faced Bucky parked in a chair to the left of your bed.

As you began to stir, his eyes lifted quickly to meet yours, some of the tension easing from his frame. “Have a good rest, angelfish?” he whispered, and you furrowed your brows up at him, so full of questions. “They got you on the good stuff don’t they.” He chuckled fondly, reaching out to brush his fingertips across your cheek tenderly.

“Kick a girl when she’s down, why don’t you.” You sighed, speech slightly slurred from pain medication and the dryness in your mouth, but still capable of using his own lines against him.

His resulting grin contained all the brilliance of the sun and made you look down with a self-satisfied smirk. Your eyes immediately fell on your exposed arms laying atop the blanket, the scarring along your left forearm lain bare for all to see. Jerking your hands back roughly, you clumsily tried to shove them beneath the covers despite the warmth on the ward. Bucky’s gentle tut before his hand came to rest atop yours halted your attempt.

“Shhh, you’re just fine you brave, beautiful woman. Stay right there.” He murmured as he laced his fingers with yours, pinning your arm to rest above the blanket. “You have nothing to hide or be ashamed of.”

Swallowing thickly, you slowly lifted your gaze to meet his. “I think I’ve acquired a few more…” You sighed, the feeling of thick bandages padding your hip acutely registering as you spoke.

“Probably.” He nodded softly. “You also probably saved that boy Hernandez by taking the bullet, so I’d say they were well earned. Besides, they’ll make an excellent target for my mouth one day.”

Your soft smile transformed into a look of disbelief, your free hand rising to whack his shoulder gently. “John Clarence Egan.” You chided half-heartedly and he pressed his face to the side of your head where it lay propped up against several pillows, his heavy exhale ruffling through your hair. “We are in a hospital, and you are making inappropriate jokes.”

“Mmmm.” He hummed in agreement, stroking his thumb against yours affectionately.

“Which hospital is this, anyway?” You asked curiously, finding its curved roof and white walls lacked distinguishing features.

“Redgrave Hospital, you serve in the Army Air Force after all.” He pulled back slightly to answer.

“Redgrave…” you repeated thoughtfully. “Sounds awfully English.”

“Hit the nail on the head, angelfish. We made it.” Bucky’s lips brushed against your temple, and you smiled softly. “Despite our best efforts.” His teasing made you laugh softly, and you shook your head.

“If we’re in England, where’s the King?” You raised an eyebrow expectantly and he smirked, shaking his head.

“No King, unfortunately, but I did bring you this?” He reached behind him, pulling out a newspaper to lay across your lap.

“Victory in Europe.” You read the headline aloud, pausing a moment as the words sunk in before gasping and looking to him wide-eyed. “Truly?”

A look of solemn earnestness overtook his features and he nodded softly. “Truly. German army surrendered yesterday.”

You gulped roughly and looked back to ready to date of May 8, 1945, on the top of the paper – you had lost nearly nine days. You really had been so close, everyone had. And the fact that you were here, and others were not seemed so very arbitrary. Sighing heavily, you squeezed his hand gently.

“By the skin of our teeth.” You murmured thickly, looking up as a nurse shuffled past with a faint nod of acknowledgement before making a sharp about-face to come and check your vitals.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked you and you nodded slowly.

“I’m alright, thank you. Bit foggy but things are the clearest they’ve been in days.”

“I’m going to fetch the Doctor.” The nurse turned to eye Bucky sharply. “You’d best make yourself scarce.” She commented before continuing on her way.

“How on earth did you get in here?” You raised an eyebrow as you came to realize how unusual his presence was.

“Bought my way in with a few bottles of champagne – your flightless comrades are quite friendly if one knows the price.”

You coughed out a laugh as the comment made Nurses sound like some species of bird and his lips twitched into a smile, your eyes unable to look away from the soft, rosy skin of his mouth.

“Hey before you go…”

“Hmmm?” He turned to you, half risen from his chair.

“I don’t have the mental capacity to think of something self-deprecating right now, so can I just get a kiss?” You murmured before pursing your lips shyly.

His face transformed into a warm smile, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as the tips of his ears flushed pink. “I always said you just had to ask, angelfish.”

Echoing his smile, you turned your lips up expectantly as he braced his hand on the pillow beside your head, leaning in to gently brush his lips against yours, drawing a contented sigh from deep beneath your breastbone. Bucky’s lips pressed closer, a tender hum rumbling from his throat just as a sharp cough sounded from the end of the bed and he slowly pulled back with a rueful huff.

“Just checking her breathing, Doc.” Bucky grinned wolfishly as the man raised an eyebrow sharply. “She’s doing great.”

“Hn.” The doctor intoned, clearly unimpressed. “And how are your ribs doing, Major Egan?”

Inhaling sharply, you looked him over quickly, the litany of his injuries flooding back to you from your sub-conscious.

“Much better, thank you Doc. Who knew Smokey was such a gossip. Well, angelfish,” he brushed his knuckles down your cheek, “guess that’s my cue.”

Nodding slowly, wondering who on earth Smokey might be, you watched him leave before your Doctor took over, running through numerous checks with you before discussing the extent of your injury and the surgeries that had been performed to save your life. It was nothing short of remarkable, what they had thrown at you to prevent your death, the conversation a very sobering one. It would be a long road to recovery, and one, it turned out, you would mostly be taking back home in the United States.

After a week or so in Redgrave Hospital, you were deemed fit enough for transport back to the Zone of Interior for convalescence and recovery in a domestic hospital. Though the sympathetic nurses had not seen fit to permit Bucky onto the ward again, they had taken a shakily written note, the loss of strength you had suffered in just over a week was startling, and promised to deliver it to him. The trip via Prestwick to Greenland, then Newfoundland, and ultimately Grenier Field in New Hampshire felt luxurious on the much more spacious C-54. You were admitted to the Station Hospital there to continue your recovery and rehabilitation, enjoying phone calls with your family instead of delayed correspondence for a change.

It took two months for you to be fully back on your feet, back to yourself. The same amount of time, it seemed, for the 100th bomb group to be repatriated stateside. Freshly discharged and clad in a brand-new olive drab dress uniform, proudly bearing your silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia following your promotion and the ribbons from your two purple hearts, you had sweet-talked your way back onto the base. One of the more sympathetic MPs who had heard your story – admittedly there were few in New Hampshire who had not heard your story at this point – had not even protested your request. It seemed that fate saw fit to land Major John Egan in your life a second time, with Grenier Field the destination for his bomb group on their return flight.

Standing in the warm summer breeze, watching the sky for the silhouettes of their planes, it honestly felt odd to be wearing a skirt. The complexity of affixing your stockings to the straps of your garter belt had briefly made you long for the convenience of slacks, but with your properly cut and styled hair and feminine clothing you felt like an entirely new woman as you stood outside on the grass with the ground crew. Would Bucky even recognize you?

At last the distant droning of aircraft engines reached your, and everyone around you’s, ears, the shapes of B-17s multiplying on the horizon before they began to circle in for a landing. Honestly, there were so many of them you briefly doubted you would be able to find him with any manner of efficiency. Clamping a hand over your officer’s cap to hold it in place as a plane taxied onto a nearby hardstand, your eyes began to scan the crowd of men as they filtered past, surely headed for the mess hall or officer’s club. Catch a glimpse of those unmistakable ears, you stepped forward and called out to him.

“John Clarence Egan!”

His head whipped around so fast he nearly took out the man walking beside him.

“Do I really look so different in a skirt that you would walk right by me?” You teased fondly.

“Angelfish!”

His flight bag hit the asphalt with a sickening ‘crunch’ that had you worried for its contents, but the impact of his body against yours drove that thought quickly from your mind. Wrenching his cap from his head he tilted his face to nestle beneath the brim of yours and kiss you soundly. Distantly, you were aware of all manner of cheers and wolf-whistles from his comrades, but you were too busy clutching at his shoulders to truly mind.

“How did you-? What are you-? God, it’s good to see you.” He rambled before pressing his mouth against yours firmly, not even giving you the opportunity to reply.

Laughing brightly into the kiss, you became vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps approaching much nearer and pulled back slowly, smiling fondly as Bucky’s lips made as if to chase yours, but his friend’s question interrupted him.

“You gonna introduce us, John?” A tall blond man with striking blue eyes and a pair of unsettlingly symmetrical facial scars asked sardonically.

Bucky cleared his throat and stepped back, though you noted his arm slid around your waist in a rather proprietary move. You found you did not mind in the least, particularly as your fully healed wound gave no protest of pain whatsoever.

“Angelfish, this Gale Cleven – call him Buck, Robert Rosenthal – Rosie, and Harry Crosby – Croz.” He followed up by introducing you by your full name.

“He give you that nickname, too?” The one he told you to call ‘Buck’ raised an eyebrow and you laughed.

“It’s a long story….”

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

The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @luminouslywriting, @softspeirs, @sunny747, @storysimp, @slowsweetlove, @httpsmoon, @buckysegan, @justheretoreadthxxs, @precious-little-scoundrel, @jointherebellion215, @timetowastetime8, @mads-weasley

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #major john egan x reader #john egan x you #john egan fic #john egan imagine #john egan #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction

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