#((not sure how old his sis is yet but still))

[pagingdr-iverson]

Sad I’m not sure what episode or even what season honestly I stopped at before skipping ahead. 😭 Now I’m lost cause Chris not being with Eddie threw me COMPLETELY off I KNOW there’s bound to be a story with that smh. I just HAD to go nose through season 8. Dang it. I think maybe last I saw Maddie was still hanging with Jj from Criminal Minds and Chimney TOTALLY found her as he said he would. Chim was not playing with her at all my man definitely found his girl with their little girl lol. Hopefully they just talked and went home but I have a feeling they did not. Show. Is. MESSY! It’s just entirely way too messy for that. I’m already knowing lol. I also vaguely wonder about Hen uh according to season 8 it LOOKS/seems like sis didn’t finish med school I’m guessing. Boo. I thought it’d have been interesting.

Also. Do they tell us how old Evan is or..? He saw a picture of Daniel dated 88 and said he was not born yet. Wonder if they said his bday and I just accidentally missed it or something.

[33forthew1n]

⛐ circuit love ⛐

🏎️❣️ kimi antonelli x driver!reader 🏎️❣️

trope: karting rivals to lovers

written ff

synopsis: maybe for some kids karting was a hobby, but for yn it was everything; her dream, her future, her life. she'd been THE dominant force on every circuit she'd driven on...until kimi antonelli starts appearing at her race weekends. naturally, this makes them rivals...right?

WARNINGS: swearing, translated italian

a/n: first written ff. something new! 🙈

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ

yn ln. the circuit's hotshot. she outdrove every guy she raced against and was said to be scouted by the mercedes junior program, mclaren junior program, and just about every program worth mentioning. she'd never raced anyone that was truly on her level from ages 5 to 16.

yet, this season was the season that really mattered. if she could get her hands on the fia karting european championship trophy at the end of the year, she'd surely make it all the way to the top.

so, at the first race of the season she looked at her opponents. leo costa, theodore bronca, richard brown...same old same old. "nobody worth noting. looks like i've got this one in the bag".

and so she sat in her kart for the first race of the season with unshakable confidence. "good launch, 'round the outside, hit the apex", she mentally reminded herself.

the race began and she did get a good launch...yet some kid in a white and blue kart practically pushed her off the track. he was aggressive, bold, and fast..three things yn had yet to see in anyone outside herself in karting.

"fucking dumbass!", she yelled inside her helmet, her anger starting to flare.

at the next turn, she got as close as she could to him hoping to get his nerves piqued. he turned his head to look at her like making her touch the white line was some sort of joke she wasn't in on.

at the last corner, the kid and yn got just a hair too close and both of them collided into the barrier. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?", yn yelled at the kid as he was getting out of his now damaged kart.

"am I kidding YOU? mama mia, you crashed into ME! vaffanculo! (go fuck yourself!)"

yn stormed off the track, ready to find out who the idiot that got her out of the race was.

her race engineer, bruno, was waiting for her at the pit exit.

"bruno, who the hell was that? i've never seen him in my fucking life!!"

"first off, are you okay? that was a nasty crash, monella (rascal)", bruno said with obvious worry in his voice.

"si, si. you know how i am. now, who was that?", the ever determined yn asked him, again.

"certo che so come sei (of course i know how you are)! but still, i must ask. that was kimi antonelli you crashed with, monella", he finally responded.

kimi antonelli? who the hell was that?

she decided she'd go around the paddock to investigate and see what she can find out.

"bruno, i'll be back. give me 20", yn said, walking away like a woman on a mission.

she walked around the driver tents, looking for that damned blue and white kart.

she walked past eight tents to no avail until she heard a voice behind her that stopped her in her tracks say, "ah, there she is. miss hot head herself. looking for me to give me another piece of your mind?"

she turned around, looked him up and down to see the italian flag and 'ANTONELLI' on his race suit. "i should, shouldn't i?", yn snarkily replied with. "if anything it should be the other way around. you cost me my race, bellisima", he "subtly" flirted with her.

that was when yn realized antonelli wasn't half bad looking. too snarky and just as egotistical as she was, but not at all unnattractive.

"do you flirt with all your karting rivals?", yn asked him, half-jokingly.

"first race together and we're already karting rivals? mama mia, you move fast, ln", he smirked at her.

and that was the last of that day's interactions for the pair.

but, kimi didn't leave her mind just yet. that night she looked him up online. he had a few thousand followers on instagram, was exactly her age, a mercedes junior driver, and very proudly italian. against her better judgement she hoped to see him again next race.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ

throughout the next ten races, yn and kimi crashed 3 times, damaged each other's karts twice, and got into the other's hair dozens of times.

"OH AND THERE GO ANTONELLI AND LN FOR WHAT MUST BE THE THIRD TIME THIS YEAR. my God, John the two teens seem to be attracted to killing the other's hopes, don't you think?", said the commentator, noting the very palpable competitive tension between the two karting drivers.

"yes, william, that indeed. that's going to bring both driver's weekend to an end and with less points than either wanted to leave with", the other commentator said.

"mama mia, yn. are you serious?"

"ME? am I serious? por el amor de dios (for the love of God) kimi, you cut the corner since you're too slow to keep up with me using raw speed. then, you fucking hit me. WHERE is that MY fault?!", yn made hand signals so clear you could tell exactly what she was saying from the other side of the circuit.

"of fucking course you're not taking accountability. you HIT me! at this point, you must be doing it on purpose", kimi said, throwing a heavy accusation on yn.

"john, the two drivers are still on the grass! seems they're exchanging some choice words and credit for the crash", william, the commentator, remarked.

"well, regardless of who they want to blame, one thing is clear. this is easily both driver's worst season to date. with so many DNFs, both drivers stand at 14th and 15th place in the championship", john, the other commentator, said with an obvious grimace on his face as yn and kimi stormed off the track in opposite directions.

"fuck! she's so frustrating!", kimi exclaimed to his race engineer, mattia, once he reached his tent.

"look, kimi. just steer clear of her on the track. i'm not sure why you two crash so much, but you need as many points as you can pick up. it's best you keep your head down until monza", mattia begrdudgingly told kimi.

all he could do was nod in response.

he knew it sucked for him to miss out on so many points throughout the year, but a small part of him knew it must be harder for yn. she was the only female in the championship and he'd heard rumors going around that she was going to be dropped at the end of the year if she didn't become a consistent point-scorer.

she was looking at a fast end to a short racing career.

on the other side of the driver tents, yn had her face down with her elbows on her knees. "this kid. i'm not seeing f4 if this idiot and i keep colliding", was all she said to herself on repeat for minutes on end.

truth was, she'd come into this season with so much confidence and was now was at a point where she dreaded being on her kart. she once felt so much comfort to put her helmet on and not think of anything but racing lines, apexes, and kerbs. but now, she felt naseous just putting her racing suit on.

it didn't help to hear the rumors going around. the red bull junior academy were apparently sick of her crashes and were ready to let her go by monza if she didn't start showing more potential.

she saw kimi walk her way and immediately went inside her tent. "i can't afford to be distracted by him ever again", was the only coherent thought that ran through yn's head.

"ln? is she in here?", kimi asked her race engineer.

"monella, antonelli's here", bruno called for her.

"no. tell him i'm not here", yn said, like a woman scorned.

"i don't see yn anywhere here. maybe she's on a walk to clear her head?", bruno incorrectly suggested.

kimi heard yn. he knew she was there. "ah, ok", he said before he walked back in the direction of his tent.

what yn didn't know was that he came by to apologize for the crash. he'd thought that they could start clean if he just took accountability for this crash. but, it seems yn had other plans.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ

at the end of the championship, yn ended in 5th place and kimi in 3rd. they didn't crash again for the rest of the 11 races on the calendar. but, it did seem that one thing had crashed: yn's confidence. she didn't have the same spark she'd had at the start of the year and it was evident to see.

kimi's championship placement was impressive and that was all the more rage inducing for yn. the guy who singlehandedly ruined her season was getting praised left right and center by bigwigs in f1, commentators, and even talent scouts.

every thing she was so close to achieving was suddenly snatched from her and to yn there was just one person to blame: kimi.

just like the rumors around the paddock predicted, yn was dropped by the red bull junior academy at the end of the year. she'd gotten no offers for a seat in f4, gb3, f3, or any other series.

yet, when she opened her motorsport news apps the same couldn't be said for kimi. he was bumped up to f2 for the following season.

seeing that announcement from PREMA, inarguably the most prestigious of the junior formula teams, nearly caused yn to spiral. a small, yet very loud part of yn's heart felt like it was spit on and left to rot. after every good season, every first place, every podium, every point she'd won...this was all it amounted to?

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ

yn knew better than to let her lack of seat for this year kick her down. she knew she had one last chance to make a good impression on the racing community...but for the first time in her life it wouldn't be her racing that speaks for her, but advocating for herself that would do the trick.

she decided she would contact susie wolff. lucky for yn, she was going to a formula e race the next weekend. there, susie would be working with venturi racing.

at that race, it took a while for yn to spot susie wolff. once she did, she felt a cold shiver run up her spine. just in that moment, yn was brought to her senses, realizing how gravely important this moment was for her junior career.

"mrs. wolff! mrs. wolff!", yn called after a busy susie.

susie turned around to see who was calling after her with such urgency.

"yes, young lady?", susie asked her, looking at yn like she somewhat recognized the young driver.

"mrs. wolff, i'm yn ln. i'm a junior karting driver right now..well, as of last season i was. i'm meant to move up to single seaters this year but i wasn't given a seat. i've heard of what you're doing for girls in the sport..is there any way i can find myself on the f1 academy grid next year?"

truth be told, yn knew she wasn't going to f4 next year. she didn't have the seat or as much interest surrounding her skills as she had before he latest season and those were just the cold, hard facts. she'd come to the realization that the recently announced all-female single seater series was her only chance to stay in the sport and prove she hadn't lost her racing magic.

susie looked at her with surprise on her face. she didn't think she'd meet a lobbying driver at her workplace today, but she was impressed by the young girl's tenacity.

"look, yn. i'll tell you the truth: we don't have many seats and all of them are already taken. come this time next year, if you still want to race with us i'll try my hardest to make things happen for you. keep up your training, find a sponsor or two willing to take on the f1 academy costs, and biggest of all: don't lose hope", susie diplomatically answered her.

yn knew she was capable of the first two tasks susie gave her, but the last would be the hardest to adhere to.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ

at 18, yn was stuck in a limbo. on one hand, she'd lost out on an f4 seat over a year ago and it still found its way to creep into her thoughts more often than she'd like to admit. on the other hand, she'd kept up with training, simulators, got a title sponsor, and gained back her mental edge.

one thing was for sure, she wasn't the foolish sixteen year old she once was.

her announcement to the grid was well-recieved. she'd come to know the other girls on the grid and even befriend some of them. yet, many f1 academy supporters hadn't expected yn's name to be sponsored by E.L.F cosmetics and ART grand prix. she'd been mostly forgotten by onlookers after her last season in karting.

to yn, this was the best second chance she knew she could get. all she had to was keep her head down, focus, and not let anything (or should i say anyone?) distract her.

her first practice tests in the car were decent. before, she would have been disgruntled with a decent run but she knew she was rusty from over a year of not being on track and so she was learning to give herself some grace.

then came the first f1 academy race of the season: shanghai, china. yn had never raced here before, previously only having experience in european tracks. luckily for yn, this was the type of track she knew would be the perfect place to develop her skills at. the long straights, fast corners, and challenging right-handers were the stuff of her dreams.

yet, the man that symbolized her greatest nightmare would be there too.

andrea kimi antonelli. mercedes' golden boy and prodigy child. #12 on the grid. worst of all, the kid who wiped her dreams away.

you'd think with two years passing, yn would have maybe learned to cope with the past or simply bury it deep inside her. hell, even she thought she'd coped with her confusing, intense feelings for kimi.

yet, nothing had prepared her for seeing him again for the first time in two years.

she'd come out of her ART grand prix team garage with her earbuds in, absolutely ready to hone in on her racecraft for the day. she was doing her pre-race ritual consisting of a track walk and a bathroom break; nothing out of the ordinary really. yet, when she got on the circuit she saw someone that made her stop in her tracks.

she knew who it was the second she saw his confident pace and the way his team gear fit his body.

she had two choices in that moment: ignore him and continue on her track walk or take her bathroom break now and do her track walk once he had left the circuit.

she chose the former. yn went about her track walk like nothing was out of the ordinary. no childhood competitor-slash-rival-slash-crush in sight here!

kimi, though, did not get that same memo. he saw yn and was almost starstruck. he could see the same fire she'd always had in her eyes. the same passion that burned through ever inch of her body. yet, she looked completely different. she was now a woman. beautiful where she had years before been cute.

he'd heard whispers of her name from his management that had followed him from his karting days to formula one career. how she had finally found a seat in the racing world after a year long hiatus. yet, kimi wondered what she was doing at the track he was racing at the next day. shouldn't she be in europe for f4? before he lost his courage, he stalled for a second and started walking in sync with her. he knew she saw him and noticed him, but she seemed to be hellbent on ignoring him. "yn ln? #77?", kimi asked her, like a lifelong fan would.

she then looked at him with an emotion kimi couldn't decipher on her face.

he thought maybe she didn't hear him well the first time and repeated his questions.

"i heard you the first time, kimi. what do you want?", she asked sharply.

kimi was startled. he thought she'd be happy to catch up with an old friend. not annoyed and upset.

"ah, i heard you're racing again. are you in f4 now?", he asked innocently.

"should be. but no, i'm on the f1 academy grid this year", yn said with slight determination in her voice.

"oh. that's why she's here. it's their first weekend racing for the season", thought kimi. a part of him was embarassed for thinking she'd be happier to see him, an even bigger part of him glad he'd be able to see her a few more times this year.

"oh! congrats, yn. you were a good racer back then. i know you will do well", kimi kindly wished her well, sensing she didn't really want to speak to him.

in that moment, yn was in disbelief. did kimi not remember how thing were between them in karting? did he just not care? or was he playing at something different here?

"thank you", yn whispered back when kimi was too far away to hear.

that interaction with kimi lingered in her brain for the rest of the weekend. she'd only ever thought of him negatively. hell, hadn't she had earned a right to?

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ

by miami, f1 academy's third race weekend, yn was coming to grips with the single seater. she'd yet to score points and that was her current aim.

she'd decided to watch f1's sprint qualifying session to distract her from her first race of the weekend.

she tried to pay attention to all the drivers and note their differing driver styles and what she can implement into her own driving. yet, it seemed like the 'ANT' on the time table was impossible to look away from. didn't help that the moment she'd had with kimi at shanghai still haunted her thoughts.

now in SQ3, she was solely staring at kimi's lap times and his improving sectors. "c'mon, c'mon", she whispered under her breath. then, she heard the commentators say, "THE YOUNG ITALIAN CROSSES THE LINE WITH THE DAY'S BEST TIME. AND THAT IS SPRINT POLE FOR MERCEDES' KIMI ANTONELLI!" despite her "dislike" for him, she broke out into a smile. anyone looking at her would think she was a fan or even worse, a friend.

despite her best efforts, she was proud of kimi and happy that he'd done so well today.

she looked at the screen in her garage wondering if it would really be that bad if she congratulated him. it's not that big of a deal, right?

so, when she saw kimi walking back to his garage that was only a few spots from her own, she lightly jogged towards him. "antonelli!", she called after kimi.

he turned around the second he heard her, instantly recognizing her voice.

"i-i just wanted to congratulate you. you did well today", she said, blushing creeping up her face. "thank you, bella", he said, the happiest yn had ever seen him.

"you race in two hours, right? want to hang out after?", kimi asked.

she expected a quick thanks, but being asked out was not on her bingo card.

"si, i am. ehm, what do you want to do?", she prodded.

"just a walk and ice cream, if you're okay with that", kimi shyly responded with.

"sure", she said in response.

"bye, yn. good luck with your race, bella", kimi said before walking into his garage.

she was left staring at his back, wondering if what just happened was real.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ

after that day, yn picked up her first points and slowly but surely started seeing kimi in a positive light. not as a rival or the guy who ruined her racing season, but as a teenage boy who loved all the same things she did (racing, food, and senna).

at first, it was difficult for yn to put the past behind her. deep inside, she'd always known she was also to blame for all the crashes. but, her driver's ego wouldn't let her see the sense in that. so, she did the easy thing and blamed kimi for all that went wrong.

that day after the miami race, kimi saw how distant yn was. not unkind, but not entirely present like he was. he brought up the season they shared in euro karting and she immediately tensed. he apologized to her for always adding fuel to the fire which led her to realize how immature she'd been. yes, her dream had diverted for a bit but now she was back and better than ever. but, it wasn't his fault. it was time for her to take accountability after years of running away from her own mistakes. so, she apologized to him for being so antagonistic that season.

once they got past their history, they realized they were two peas in a pod. that night, yn laughed more than she had in her 18 years of life combined.

kimi was silly, willing to make himself look stupid just to get a laugh out of her. he was almost as passionate as she was in racing and they spent hours talking about old f1 races and rivalries.

at the end of the night, kimi walked her back to her hotel room and said goodbye.

"kimi!", yn called him back. "si, bella?", he asked her.

she then kissed him on the cheek. a blush broke out on his cheeks almost as fast as the smile on his face appeared.

"call me?"

"certo (of course)", he whispered in response.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ

the rest of the season went well for both drivers. with yn securing her first race win in zandvoort and kimi getting his first podium in spain, it's safe to say that the two were a power couple.

when did they become a couple you ask? well, yn was in italy for some sim time she needed to complete and kimi caught drift of it. he decided that after talking for a few months and flirting his ass off, it was time to make yn his girlfriend.

he asked her out to dinner at his place where he made her dinner (spaghetti bolognese, her favorite) and finally confessed to her.

"when i first saw you on track when were 15, i knew you would flip my life upside down. or my kart", he joked.

yn giggled and looked at him with what could only be called love in her eyes.

"you've made my life better from the moment you congratulated me in miami and i can only hope i've done the same for you, bella. through ever hard practice, intense qualifying, and challenging race this year, you've been there for me. it's safe to say you've become my entire world. will you be my girlfriend, yn ln?", he asked while spilling out his heart in the process.

"yes! yes! yes!", she jumped up into his arms and kissed him all over his face, making him laugh with glee.

it'd been smooth sailing for two ever since.

funnily enough, nobody at the paddock had caught on. kimi and yn met up in the merc garage often before her races and did a pre-race ritual together. she puts on her hemlet, he kisses it, and then they squeeze each other's hands three times.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ

well, nobody suspected the two to be dating until the last race of the season in las vegas.

yn had pit together a stellar weekend and was in the lead of the race. she looked in her mirrors, hoping and praying that dorianne in second wasn't close enough to activate DRS. then, maya in third got close to dorianna in the kerb and the two started battling it out for second.

then, before anything could really register in her mind, yn reached the chequered flag. "YN LN, THIRD RACE WIN OF THE SEASON. YOU ARE THE BEST!", yelled her race engineer.

she couldn't believe it, but kimi antonelli could. he was standing at the very back of his girlfriend's garage, immensely proud of her.

her mechanics and engineers called to him to join them all at parc fermé. they all knew the couple hadn't revealed their relationship yet, but it would mean everything to yn if she saw her boyfriend celebrating her win.

she jumped into her crew's arms when she then saw kimi. he was smiling so incredibly wide and mouthing "you did it, bella. mia stella (my star)". that's when she decided that there was no better time than the present for the world to know who she loved.

she jumped into kimi's arms and kissed him. not a long passionate kiss, but instead tender and full of love.

to see him celebrate her win as she had done for his, made her realize just how special he was to her.

for they had met on a circuit and fallen in love on one too.

[starsonablackboard]

it's fascinating to me that every member of the party pre- and during loops treats siffrin with some flavour of alienation. like, bear with me. this post is going to sound like im here to give a hot take that the party are Bad Friends, Actually, but i promise you that's not what i mean. you're with me? okay. let's go.

isa idolises him (in the having a crush on someone type of way).

mira views them almost as a book character (the whole "the aura! the mystique!" conversation).

odile calls them a child to their face multiple times.

bonnie is... well, bonnie. kid is coping how they manage.

in the very beginning of the journey we have isa and mira, who, out of all five, are the most familiar to eachother. they're from the same country, they both actively follow the change religion, they both occupy (or occupied, in isa's case) well-respected positions in society, they're very close in age and i would assume socioeconomic statuses. they share a lot personality wise, too. they're both anxious about not being enough, about not changing enough, they're both open and emotional and affectionate, they even both like romance novels! they are very in eachother's comfort zones. they are very understandable to eachother.

then there's odile. she is as different as it gets – she's ka buan (and well half vaugardian but nobody knows that), she's old, she has different religios beliefs and different history with body craft, she's confident, self-secure, reserved, sarcastic and at times cold and makes it very apparent that she's not into openly displayed affection. but also, she is actively choosing to be seen this way. she is comfortable with being perceived like this.

and then, there's siffrin. a mysterious traveler with mysterious past that doesn't like to be touched and never talks about his feelings. where are they from? what he believes? what did he do prior? why did they join them? noone knows. situation kinda similar to odile's, but kicker is, we know siffrin does not want to be seen this way.

mira, being a somewhat sheltered not very experienced young adult (she's from dormont with population less than a regular highschool class, and has been living in the house for some past years) with more familiarity with books than with real world obviously views them more as a cool character than a person. and i can't blame her! siffrin doesn't help her view them any differently either.

isa i assume catches feeling almost immideately (the whole journey takes less than a year, sif is second to last to join and we know that isa's crush has been going for months) and it's universally hard to not idolise and idealise the person you're having a crush on, so even tho isa is more experienced than mira, i imagine he fails to see siffrin as a whole person too.

odile out of all of them grinds my own personal gears the most. i love you, old wise lady, but oh god. the amount of times she refers to the party and in particular siffrin as kids or children is sure something. and the thing with kids is that you generally don't view them as equals, so, no "seeing siffrin as a person that he is" there either.

that's general dynamics. now to what interactions we actually see in game:

odile mocks siffrin for being forgetful. every time siffrin forgets a word, everyone reacts as if they don't remember that vaugardian isn't siffrin's native language. both isa and mira behave patronisingly towards them (jokingly, but still). the whole party spends some time comparing siffrin to a wild animal in the dictionary conversation, mira saying "what a perfect analogy" with stars in her eyes. one time siffrin desides to open up and tell them about stars, they mock him. when he kills that sadness more violently than usual, they all look at him as if he murdered a baby (i still don't really get why btw. they've been fighting side to side for months). the whole ghost event. ohhh ghost event my beloved.

all of these, for me, point to a very deep yet unacknowledged disconnect between siffrin and the rest of the party. the not-understanding. the unfamiliarity. the alienation. siffrin is other even in their own little ragtag bunch of misfits.

now AM I SAYING that means that the party is bad actually?? no!!! for every interaction i named there's multiple others with them being supportive and warm to sif. also, siffrin, famously, is very bad at telling when something bothers them, so noone whould even know if they were doing anything that upset him. and, on top of everything else, i think it's very natural for a party of very different people traveling in a lot of hurry and discomfort and plain mortal danger for months to develop a bond where "i would die for you, my siblings in arms, but i also will poke fun at your religion when it starts to sound too impossible for my worldview. what do you mean stars are there in the daytime too? don't be silly". i actually really appreciate their friendships being imperfect, because it's so much more interesting and thought provoking this way. like, I've been thinking about this for weeks.

and also, this specific type of imperfection plays into the core themes of siffrin's character. to be welcomed, adored, loved, even, but not understood. not recognised. not known. and to not even try to explain untill the world is literally ending.

[izzih22]

do one where paige and azzi are hanging out with drew and they keep teasing him about a crush he has at school

Family Business

Note: hope y’all like it

The Bueckers’ living room was a mess of old video game controllers, chip bags, and half-finished root beers.

The summer sun was still slanting low through the windows, casting a soft golden light over everything, making the whole scene feel even more easy and familiar.

Paige sat sprawled on the couch, socked feet up on the coffee table, controller in hand.

Azzi was curled against her side, legs tucked up, watching the screen with a lazy smile.

Across from them, Drew — Paige’s little brother — sat in an armchair, scowling at his screen like it had personally offended him.

He’d been quiet for a few minutes now. Too quiet.

Which, for Paige, was blood in the water.

“Hey, Drew,” she said casually, not looking away from the TV. “Who’s that girl you were talking about earlier?”

Drew stiffened immediately. “What girl?”

Azzi perked up, sensing danger — and opportunity. “Ohhh, wait, there’s a girl?” she said, smiling way too sweetly.

Drew glared at them both. “There’s no girl.”

Paige snorted. “Right, because you’re blushing like a tomato for no reason.”

“I’m not!” Drew protested, cheeks definitely turning redder.

Azzi set her controller down, turning fully to face him.

“Okay, okay,” she said, voice dripping with fake seriousness. “We’re just concerned. As your older sisters, it’s our duty to know these things.”

Paige reached over and mussed Drew’s hair roughly, ignoring his half-hearted attempts to dodge her.

“Yeah, bro. We gotta vet her. Make sure she deserves you.”

“And,” Azzi added solemnly, “we need to know if she’s prettier than us.”

Drew groaned, shoving his face into a pillow. “Stopppp.”

Paige grinned and turned to Azzi. “Remember when he had that crush on that girl in fifth grade who didn’t even know his name?”

Azzi laughed, bright and easy. “Oh my gosh, and he made us practice how he was gonna say ‘hi’ to her in the kitchen for like three hours.”

“You made me!” Drew protested from under the pillow.

“You begged us!” Paige and Azzi chorused at the same time, then dissolved into laughter.

Drew pulled the pillow away, giving them both his best death glare.

“You two are the worst,” he grumbled.

Azzi leaned over and bumped his knee affectionately.

“Nah, you love us.”

Drew grunted, but there was no real heat behind it.

He did love them. Had for as long as he could remember.

Azzi wasn’t just Paige’s girlfriend — she was family.

She’d been around for so many years now, it felt weird to even separate them in his mind. She was just… Azzi. His big sister, whether the world called it that or not.

Paige turned back to the TV with a smirk.

“So,” she said casually. “What’s her name?”

“Nope,” Drew said immediately.

Azzi tilted her head, giving him the big, soft brown eyes she knew were impossible to resist.

“Pleeease?”

Drew tried. He really tried. But it was a losing battle.

He sighed dramatically, dropping his controller onto the floor.

“Fine. Her name’s Riley. She’s in my math class.”

Paige elbowed Azzi triumphantly.

“Knew it. Knew there was someone.”

Azzi giggled. “Is she cute?”

Drew shrugged, all tough and cool — and about as convincing as a wet cat.

“I guess.”

Paige leaned in, voice low and teasing.

“Have you talked to her yet? Or are we still at the ‘staring awkwardly from across the room’ phase?”

“Shut up,” Drew muttered, cheeks flaming again.

Azzi softened a little, nudging Paige.

“Be nice,” she said, grinning. She turned back to Drew, voice kinder. “You’re gonna crush it, Drew. You’re way cooler than you think.”

“Way cooler,” Paige agreed easily. “Especially when you don’t try so hard.”

“And,” Azzi said, laughing, “you’ve got two amazing role models.”

Drew groaned again. “God help me.”

Paige ruffled his hair one more time for good measure.

“You’re welcome, little man.”

Azzi smiled at Drew — warm, real.

“We got your back, okay? Always.”

Drew glanced between the two of them — his big sister, and the girl who had been there through everything right beside her — and, despite himself, he smiled a little too.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low but sure. “I know.”

They turned back to their game after that, the moment slipping away into the familiar rhythm of trash talk and laughter and teasing.

Just a regular afternoon.

But underneath it all, something steady and unspoken thrummed between them:

Family wasn’t always about blood.

Sometimes it was about the people who stayed.

The ones who made you laugh, and made you feel like maybe the world wasn’t so scary after all.

And in that messy living room in Minnesota, Drew knew he had two of the best.

[princessbrunette]

I love stepbro!jj, what about step sis asking jj to help her cum because she just can’t get the write angles :(

HELPING HAND ♡

tryin something new n decided to be less lazy with my writing and presentation. ♡

CW: step-cest, tiny bit of faux-cest if you blink i think ?? this is dark content technically, do not interact if that’s not ur thing. aside from that, usual warnings such as smut and mentions of past family issues. proceed with caution ❀

You loved when JJ came home.

It was simple, something he did everyday — well, most days atleast if he wasn’t off on some grand adventure you’d hear about a few days later, curled up to his side on the couch digging your toes into his thigh and begging him for details.

Anyway, JJ was different when he’d come home. Not like himself in the morning, running around frantically always half way out the door, still pulling up his pants holding the bagel you had put in the toaster between his teeth, ruffling your hair as he passes you as an apology for stealing your breakfast.

JJ when he came home was calmer. Not always super tired, just… done with the day, happy to be home, happy to see you. He was still warm from the sun, despite it having gone down hours ago, and always smelt like salt water still from being in and out the ocean all day. He’d wear a lazy dopey smile, dropping down on the worn leather of the couch beside you, spreading his arms along the back of it.

Today was different, and you wanted to be your usual silly and playful self with him, chatting until it gets late, your mother passed out asleep and his father taking a night shift up on the pier, a job JJ thinks he’s lucky to have talked himself into, yet pleasantly surprised he’s kept it up this long. Nights like these, your chatting would turn to playful wrestling, any excuse to get your hands on eachother and then a few guilty, chaste kisses once he’d inevitably pinned you. You weren’t in your usual mood however.

He hadn’t touched you in a while, not like that anyway. The glossy, pearl pink of your nail had been chipped off from your incessant nibbling, anxious thoughts swirling your mind regarding whether JJ had come to his senses, realising he shouldn’t be helping his little step-sister like this, and he’d rather just pretend it didn’t ever happen. God, had he spoken to someone about it? Been guided out of your needy hands? Your wondering had lead you to pull away slightly, not seek out his help like you so badly wanted to, trying to please yourself the way he did, attempting to remember the exact way he curved his fingers against your squelchy spot.

But your fingers weren’t long like his, and no matter how far you bent your wrist it just wouldn’t crook up to the angle you needed— and you didn’t even wanna get started on your lack of coordination in rubbing your clit at the same time, it was all too much for your hazy little head, and after pretty much working yourself to tears you’d resorted to huffing, pulling up your pyjama shorts and going to sulk on the couch in the dark, room lit up by old Spongebob re-runs.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes when JJ came home, and you wasn’t sure why. Well, you were — you were in a foul mood, and him walking through the door all warm and smiley and devastatingly charming just made you throb harder, clenching hard enough that you could crush a fuckin’ walnut in there. His dumb little sleeveless shirts and shorts and backwards red cap smushed over an abundance of sun-bleached hair. He didn’t even try, he just woke up and looked like that. It was twisted. How dare he.

“No ‘hello’? Y’know, you’re too pretty for all that pouting. Wanna talk about it? Talk to Papa J?”

He’s already teasing you, it’s like he knew. He flops down onto the couch next to you, leather covered couch cushions hissing under his weight, stretching himself across the space like he usually did. You wanted to crawl into his lap and rock against his dick and have your tongues wrap around eachother, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your step-brother, you both needed to resist for a painful amount of time before you gave in, to prove to yourselves you were good, normal people. You didn’t see the point, you’d said it once and you still thought it— JJ was just bein’ a good big brother, helping you out when you need him so desperately. However, the denial of your shared feelings had become routine, and if it’s what it took for JJ to give in and help you, you were happy to play ball.

“S’bad JJ, I shouldn’t say. Doesn’t matter anyway.” You all but huff, turning back to the TV. Your lashes flutter a little when he urgently shifts closer, tilting his head trying to gauge your expression. You kind of wanted to smile, you liked that he cared.

“Wh- yes it matters. Is someone bothering you?” Yes. You. A tidal wave of warmth brushes over your arms, stomach curling tightly in on itself at the thought of JJ being protective over you, teaching someone who was being mean to you a lesson. You bite your lip, and when you turn to look at him again he’s closer than he was before, brow creased waiting for you to speak.

You look at him, look at that little cut on his lip. The graze on his cheek. Wonder how it happened. You exhale slowly through your nose, brows furrowing and you blink a few times as you gather your thoughts. He thinks it’s cute when you do that.

“No one is bothering me. I just… I haven’t been able t’do what you did. As good as you did it.” You slowly spell it out, not wanting to say any of the crude terms, or even specifically have to own up to what you wanted. You said a millisecond-long prayer in hoping he would simply understand what you meant, but when you’d lifted your gaze back up to the blonde boy after shyly staring at your chipped nail polish, he was squinting one eye at you, mouth a little gaped.

“Yeah, uh— y’gonna have to be a touch more specific than that, honey. Know I’m a genius, but I ain’t a mind reader.” He leans back into the couch, relaxing once you told him no one was picking on you.

You clench your fist in your lap, looking up at the ceiling in despair as if the answer to your problems was up there. You drop your eyes back to JJ, the cause and true answer to your problem and brace yourself. “I haven’t been able to… touch myself as good as you did it to me. Tried all night Jayj, even started crying ‘cos I couldn’t do it right. Just feel all… empty since we last did it.” Your bottom lip pushes out and you curl your legs up so you could wrap your arms around them, physically making yourself as small as possible seeing as you’d wanted to disappear into the couch in that moment.

For once, JJ is lost for words.

You can’t handle the silence as he stares at you, contemplating his next action. So, you speak again. “Sorry Jayj… j’st need you to do everything for me.” You look so pitiful, it’s sweet in a kicked puppy kind of way. He’d like to consider himself a helpful kinda guy, infact he knew he was— he wouldn’t be in half the shit John B dragged him into every single day if he wasn’t constantly putting his ass on the line to help him. This was no different, this was risky. He could break up a happy family, ruin things for his dad if he got caught doing this. God, he’s such a troublemaker it made him want you more.

“Look,” He speaks, closing his eyes and fixing his hat on his head. He speaks your name softly and it just sounds better on his tongue than anyone else’s. You squish your thighs together, preparing to be shut down. Your face is all pained, and he realises you’ve come to him practically begging him to touch you because you’re hurting without him. His dick jumps in his shorts. “I’ve been tryin’ t’do the right thing. Y’know? S’not easy. When you walk around looking like that. Looking at me like that. You think I haven’t been thinking about the last time we—” He cuts himself off with a sigh, scrubbing a hand down his face. Was he mad? Your brow creases even more and he thinks you might cry, so he scoots back up to you, draping an arm round you like you’re just a kid who’s being comforted after a scolding. “It’s really that bad?” He tongues at the cut on his lip. You nod, feeling sorry for yourself and he exhales slowly out his nose. He thinks for a bit, and then just stares at you for a while. He think he might even kiss you, but then he speaks. “Lie back.”

You’re happy as a clam when you scoot back on the couch, happy you’re getting some special attention from your step brother. “Oh yeah, all smiles now huh.” He tsks playfully. You lean your back against the armrest, bringing your knees up and spreading your legs just a little. He rubs his hands over his face again in preparation before he turns his body to face you, immediately dropping down his gaze to see the wet patch in your shorts.

“Lord have mercy.” He shakes his head, a hand pressing thoughtlessly to the back of your thigh, spreading you wider. “Whyyyy do you do this to me?” He sighs under his breath, ever so casually pressing a thumb between your clothed folds, fat lips swallowing the fabric of your shorts. You suck in a breath, and release it with a whimper and his eyes leave your crotch to look at you analytically as you do so. “Jesus, alright. Take these off.” he taps the side of your hip, signalling to your shorts and you wriggle out of them, unsure what to do with them so you clutch them between your hands by your stomach. He swipes them from your hold and throws them over his shoulder, busying himself with slotting a couch cushion under your lower back. “Wont be needing those.”

“JJ, might need them incase someone comes in!” You whine, but he ignores you, stroking your thighs and squishing the dough of them, spreading your legs to witness your glossy, honeyed treasure between them.

“If someone comes in, we’re screwed as it is, shorts aren’t gonna save you.” He murmurs, adjusting himself in his pants, rock hard already. “Show me what you were doin’ and I’ll uh, I’ll try and teach you, yeah.” The blonde tried to keep his voice level, feeling better about himself if he kept this purely educational, just helping you learn your downstairs a little better.

You resist a whine, face already hot in embarrassment from asking. He watches your painted toes curl into the couch cushion, knees knocking together as you suck on your bottom lip shyly. “It’s okay, c’mon pop ‘em open again. Not like I haven’t seen it all before.” He cooes, coaxing you with a hand on your knee. You spread your legs, bringing your fingers to your lips and suckling on the tips, getting them nice and wet. You had to be doing it on purpose, this innocent act wasn’t gonna hold up much longer if you kept staring at him with those sweet doe eyes and pouty lips.

“Started like this…” You lower your fingers with a frustrated pout, dragging them down to your clit and jolting slightly when your fingers brush it, sensitive. JJ practically salivates at the reaction, watching you like a hawk, looming over you. He thinks back to the first time he touched you down there, and you got all choked up because it was too sensitive and you got all overwhelmed, clawing at his hand and saying it was too much. He recalls having to calm you down with kisses and tell you to just relax and let it happen. He’s been with quite a few ladies over time, whether it be at pogue parties, ex flings or FWB’s— none quite as sensitive as you though. None quite lovable as you either. He can’t believe he’s thinking that.

He watches you pant, his coarse fingers stroking your leg whilst you grind away at your clit, focused and letting out sweet little squeaks in response. “Pretty girl, aren’t you? Man, you’re so worth all the trouble.” He speaks quietly, intimately. You felt special when he spoke like this, never a time where JJ isn’t revelling in his bravado, loud and jokey, forever performing to deflect from his issues. You got calm JJ, intimate JJ, your very own.

You were already making a mess of yourself, so it didn’t take long until your fingers were curling down toward your hole, spreading your folds as you pushed them downward. You wasn’t too sure if that was for your pleasure, or for JJ’s view but it made you feel good regardless. You sink a finger in, eyes flitting up to watch your step-brothers reaction, clenching around your single digit when his eyes leave your pussy to look straight into yours. “There y’go.” He hums, and you get to work.

He see’s your frustration around 15 seconds in, when you just can’t get the right angle. You fidget, moving your wrist about, tilting your hips up a little— but after a while all you can do is let out a sad whine, looking to JJ for help. He gives in hilariously fast. “Okay, alright, lemme do it.” But he doesn’t start without gently taking your wrist and bringing your fingers to his mouth, briefly sucking off any remnants of you lingering on your wet fingers. “Real sweet, just like I remember.” He muses, making you trickle out more arousal from the way you clenched around nothing.

His breath catches in his throat when he slides his fingers up and down your folds, spreading them and taking the sight of you in. It wasn’t until you spoke up with a pained “Please!” that he swivelled his hand around, fingers pressing against your wanting hole.

“Lemme in, pretty. Thats it, g’nna need you to relax just a little, yeah?” He pushes a finger in and even then you feel the stretch, much bigger than your finger— and you still weren’t used to it. “Thats my girl.” He lets slip, and his eyes flicker to yours guiltily at the sentiment, only to see your brows pinched and jaw slightly agape, ruined cunt fluttering around his finger. “T’aww.” He cooes quietly, returning his eyes to the task at hand.

He lets the ball of his hand smush to your clit so you can grind on it, and at the feeling your knee jerks up a little, letting out a pleased yelp of surprise. “Shh, shh, shh.” His brow creases, a free hand holding your knee to keep you open. “Just take it baby, there you go.” He was really getting into it now, his pupil swallowing his eye, something darker about the way he stared at you in the dim light of the living room. He slides in another finger, and the coil in your stomach is already starting to tighten.

“A-already g’nna cum soon, Jayj!” You whine and he grins like an old happy dog, the brink of a laugh, wide lipped and toothy.

“Thats the point, right?” He teases, but you don’t take him in, eagerly humping your hips up into his hand, small and needy ‘please!’s spilling from your mouth. “What’ja need? I’m right here, babe.” His free hand strokes your waist now, thumb sliding along your skin to soothe you, possibly keep you quiet and calm.

“Closer.” Your lashes flutter, tears welling beneath them making the dark clusters kiss at the corners, bonded by the shimmering drops threatening to fall. “Want you closer.” You’re looking— no, staring at his mouth and he knows what you want specifically. He doesn’t care anymore, what’s a little kissing between step-siblings? Suppose it doesn’t matter when his fingers are buried into your cunt collecting a pearly ring around his knuckles.

“C’mere, sweetheart.” He grits his teeth, fingers going at your more vigorously once he leans over you, simply breathing hot air onto your lips for a moment before pushing his own against yours. You feel the cut on his bottom lip skim yours and instinctively your tongue lulls out to lick it, wanting to taste anything he had to offer. You felt depraved, your shame quickly fleeting as JJ drew you closer to your orgasm. You feel so dirty when you suck on his tongue, just the way he taught you last time, eliciting a groan from deep in his throat. God, you wanted him deep in your throat, wanted to taste him everywhere, devour everything he had to offer. How could you go from a naive young girl who knows nothing of intimacy to this little desperate slut all from a few kisses and JJ’s magic fingers (As he so charmingly named them) You were starting to think it was in you all this time.

“Good girl. Can feel it comin’, just gotta let it go n’relax. M’here now.” He groans into your mouth, fingers brushing that soft gooey spot deep in your core making you cry out. He had to pacify you with more kisses, wondering what it would take to get you over that finish line. He stalls, leaving gentle kisses across your jaw as you mewl, trying to find the right words to say. He knew it was words you needed, preening and practically folding in half for him anytime the blonde directed any praise towards you at all, even as simple as a “Good job!” in a day to day basis.

It was risky, but he thought he’d try something kind of sick. Test the waters a little.

“Gotta stay quiet, baby. Don’t wanna wake up your mom now do you? Probably better off no one sees your big brother helpin’ you get that pretty pussy off, huh?”

You’re clenching so hard it nearly pushes his fingers out. God, you’re both sick.

Just like that, you’re gushing, sweet moans and hiccups swallowed by JJ’s desperate mouth as he silences you by force, letting you ride out that orgasm you so desperately needed. “I know, I know, you’re alright.” He cooes as you do so, dropping kisses in where he can because he know the moment to do so will be gone soon enough, and the guilt will kick in. For now though, he enjoys the moment, enjoys the closeness, and for a second — he can pretend you’re all his, his girl — and not a step-relative. It makes his heart clench.

[alchemyfreak321]

Bad Hunts

TLDR: Simon finds your reading lists and tries to surprise you.

CW: mostly fluff, primal play if you squint, Simon being bad at communicating, valentine surprise that goes sideways, and bad writing as usual

WC: 1.4k

Cross posted on AO3

When Simon finds out you might have a mask kink and that the last couple of books you read had characters that chased each other through the woods before doing things that made him blush and splutter, he decides to plan a little valentine surprise.

He takes you to a cute remote cabin by the lake surrounded by thick woods. You're excited thinking it's a cute little gateway where you'll both be curled up by the fire. He's nervous about the snow that's still on the ground. When you reach the cabin, you gasp and coo over how cute it is, exclaim over the view of the lake from the large windows in the bedroom and living room. Simon is frowning, thinking how much further the woods are from the cabin and how dense it looks. Were there wolves in this part of the country?

By the time you both start to unpack and settle in, Simon has already turned into a nervous wreck second guessing his decision. It's cold and the snow hasn't melted yet, but there's little snow in the woods and he can keep you warm, he reasons. Should he start the chase in the tree line, or from the cabin? It's a long stretch of ground before the woods what if he catches you before you reach the woods? You're not exactly a marathon runner but you do cardio on the treadmill, that's gotta count right? Shit, maybe he needs to give you a bigger head start, will twenty minutes be enough? Shit, what if you fall in the water, Simon panics trying to remember if you can swim.

It's noon by the time you've unpacked and settled in. Simon leaves you curled up on the day bed on the porch overlooking the lake. Wrapped up in a huge cozy blanket, steaming cup of hot chocolate in one hand and your latest read in the other. He sneaks back to the bedroom and pulls his mask out from the bottom of his bag, making sure to tuck the little ring box back. He tries to rub off the dirt and what looks suspiciously like a old blood stain, cursing himself for not cleaning it properly. Maybe it will add to the fantasy or maybe he should have made a pink one for valentines day, he chuckles to himself.

"Si, where did you go?" he hears you calling. Now or never. Simon pulls the mask over his head and shoves the bag away before he can talk himself out. He channels Ghost and stands taller, makes his steps longer as he walks down the hallway towards you.

You freeze when you see him from the front door. He's still wearing the soft sweater but nothing else about him seems soft. He looks bigger and more menacing as he strides up to you, covering the distance in a quick few steps. He stops just by the threshold, braces his forearms on top of the door frame and leans towards you. His normally soft, warm eyes look down at you with a sharper glint. You take a small step back, almost tripping on the edge of blanket wrapped around you.

"Si..?" he doesn't answer, instead he cocks his head to the side and rakes his gaze over you. Goosebumps break out over your arms and ice trickle down your spine as you stare wide-eyed at the figure in front of you. Tears prick your eyes and your heart beats in your throat when he continues to stare without a sound.

Ghost takes a step forward, his arms still stretching over the door frame, blocking any entry back to the cabin. You stumble back and this time you do fall, your feet tangled in the blanket. You stare up at Ghost in terror, he's also frozen, one arm stretched out as if to grab you before you fell . Your bottom lip trembles, "Simon?" you call once more before bursting into tears.

Simon wrenches the mask off and quickly sinks to the ground next to you. "Lovie are ya okay?? I'm sorry!" he exclaims pulling you into his arms. His heart falls to his stomach as you sob into his chest, terrified he hurt you.

"You-you scared me," you hiccup, clutching his sweater.

"I know luv, I know, I'm sorry" Simon whispers, stroking your hair, tucking you into his arms, "I'm so sorry". It was a bad idea, it was a stupid idea, Simon berates himself. Only now realizing he should have talked to you first instead of springing this on you.

You pull away, your fear turning into anger, "You scared me!" you hiss pushing him away. Simon looks at you wide-eyed and tries to pull you back only to be met with punches as you beat his arms away. "You giant asshole! I thought you were going to murder me!"

"I-shit-I'm sorry luv!" Simon apologized batting away your puny fists. "If I wanted to murder ya I wouldn't bring ya to the woods, too many people know where you are." Simon tries to joke only to be met with more punches.

"You" punch. "Giant" punch. "Asshole!" punch. "What were you thinking?!" you huff finally giving him a reprieve.

Simon gapes at you for a second before looking away, his face turning pink in embarrassment, "I saw the book you were reading before." he mutters under his breath.

Now it's your turn to be embarrassed. You didn't know Simon looked at the books you've read, the last novel did have a scene where the hero chased the heroine through the woods before catching her and doing all sorts of nasty things together for several pages. You may have even bookmarked a few of those pages. You look around at the woods surrounding you with the sudden realization. "Is this why you brought me here?"

Simon turns redder unable to meet your eyes, you bite your lips at how cute he looks, all flushed and bashful. "I thought I'd surprise you…".

"You surprised me alright." You huff, trying to stay mad at him. "We have to talk about things like this before hand, set boundaries and all that." you explain before you're hit with another jolt of realization. "Wait…is this one of your fantasies?" you ask.

Simon didn't think his face could get any hotter. Was it really your fantasy he wanted to fulfill or was it his? He had imagined countless times of taking you as Ghost. Ghost would be more rough, less giving, he wouldn't blush and whimper like Simon when you clenched around him. Maybe he thought he could pull different sounds out of you, turn into a baser version of himself. His silence answers your question.

You can't help but soften at his embarrassment. You know it's hard for him to ask for things. He always projected a cool and collected image, but over the last few years you've learned it's a facade. Sure, Ghost is self-assured on the field and unruffled in the face of danger, but Simon, sweet Simon whose hands were sweaty when you first held them. Sweet Simon would let out soft gasps when you kissed him. Sweet Simon who only wants to make you happy.

You lean forward and cup his face in your hand and draw his gaze to yours. You see the sadness in his now soft eyes and can't help but lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips. Hoping it lets him know all is forgiven. He wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you back. You lick his bottom lip before nipping it gently. He groans and pulls you closer, crushing you to his chest, sliding his tongue along yours. His hands sliding down your back and shoulders before cradling your face and kissing you deeply.

You're not sure how long you two sat there kissing on the cold floor before finally pulling away, both of you breathless. You take in Simon's flushed face, half lidded gaze and swollen lips and decide maybe some running in the woods would do you both good. With a groan you stand up and start walking back inside the cabin. "Come on Si," you call over your shoulder, "chase me through the cabin first and then we can think about the woods." You giggle when you hear Simon scramble to his feet.

"Oh and bring the mask with you."

Happy Valentines! Hope you guys liked this. Likes, Reblogs and Comments are always appreciated!

[hurtspideyparker]

Inspired by @sunnysideprincess post "young Tony Stark sleeping with a stranger at a gala and turns out that stranger is now his bodyguard?" a winteriron 2.5k fic (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes, Protective Bucky Barnes, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, Temporary Tony Stark/Tiberius Stone

Bucky doesn't know much about the current pop culture climate. All he knows is Howard has a son who likes to get into trouble, but due to recent threats against the family it's no longer safe to go out alone.

—

Bucky attends the gala to meet with Howard and be acquainted with the venues and protocols he'll be expected to know, including dress and social custom. He's still reintegrating into civilian life after an honourable discharge, but Howard worked with him during his prosthetic trials and wanted to hire him immediately.

Bucky meets a pretty thing at the gala, something charming and mischievous, and hey, he hasn't exactly had time to take advantage of the civilian world and all it's private space and willing bodies just yet. Howard won't be able to meet till the end of this thing, and who's to say fooling around in an empty office doesn't count as "integrating into higher society".

He doesn't even get the man's name. Doll, sweetheart, and pretty boy seem to do him just fine for the hour they spend together (half at the start, and a second time during a boring speech when they make eye contact; Bucky can't resist the cute little smirk and head nod towards the exit).

Everything goes smoothly with Howard, and he's expected at the house tomorrow morning at 8am to meet the infamous Tony Stark. From what he's told he's too smart for his own good, resents authority, and has no idea he's about to get a permanent babysitter. To say Bucky is hesitant is an understatement, but the pay is good and things haven't exactly been easy since coming home, so he's up for a challenge.

What he couldn't have predicted to go wrong, however, is the pretty thing that turns around the corner the following morning in boxers and a Metallica t-shirt, sees Bucky and Howard in the kitchen, and immediately lets out an adorable squeak before hiding bashfully behind his hands and running out of the kitchen.

"Well, that was certainly unexpected. Tony, get back here!"

Bucky agrees, although with an entirely different surprise.

Bucky can't help but be endeared by the sudden shyness and petulance of the previously confident and forthright man, but things turn awkward over time as they settle into their new dynamic.

Bucky spends half his time checking up on Tony in the lab and making sure he eats. Definitely a bit too close to the babysitter mark, as Tony calls him with annoyance, but it beats his nights out.

When Tony goes out, he goes all out. It's loud crowded clubs, it's mansions with boozed up nepo babies, it's sketchy drug-hazed apartments. Bucky starts to understand the controversy about Stark Industries upcoming CEO while watching him do body shots off of random college girls in a dive bar, but all he can do is threaten to smash cameras and make sure Tony gets in his car at the end of the night.

SI has nothing to worry about in the grand scheme of things; Tony practically runs the thing already, considering how most of the tech updates have been his for the past decade (when Bucky was a dirt poor teen with no future but carrying a gun and being expendable, Tony was building the fighter jets that flew above his head. He hadn't even begun puberty yet). Tony's also the one who made Bucky's arm, not Howard, and he only finds out because he starts blabbing on about "missing the human trials, how's the fit, any cinching? Wow, my baby is smooth," a few weeks into their arrangement.

The worst part, though, is Bucky learns real quick that he wasn't special.

The young Stark's charm seems to be quite universal; women, men, college students, business associates, strangers too old for him, creeps too touchy with him. He gets them all with his pretty smile and long lashes.

Bucky doesn't say anything. Doesn't do anything. It's not his place, and besides, they both knew when they met it was a one night thing. He's most definitely not jealous at all.

Okay, he wants to slam every man who touches Tony's ass before even introducing themselves face into the bar counter, but that's neither here nor there.

Thankfully dark and broody is his default, so Tony never comments on the rage and possessiveness in the watchful man's eyes.

Bucky realizes he has a serious problem when Tony starts dating Ty Stone.

Their fathers are friends, Tony calms down with the partying, and everything seems to be going well for SI.

But Bucky's there; on the expensive dinner dates at a nearby table, leaning against a golf cart while they play, standing beside the exit at a charity gala. He hears how Ty talks down to Tony, the hands he can't seem to keep off even when Tony squirms a bit, or how Tony asks for permission to do the simplest things.

"Honey you're such a messy drunk, don't go embarrassing me again."

"It's just wine with the meal Ty—"

"Did you not hear me? Get something else."

Tony resigns himself to sparkling water while Ty gets a perfect red to pair with his steak.

"You look like a whore, god, button that thing up. People are going to think you're for sale or something," Ty says as he steps into Tony's space and does the top buttons of his shirt.

"I can do it myself."

But Ty doesn't move back, instead taking the words as a challenge and tugging the now too-high collar till Tony chokes a bit.

Bucky steps away from the wall, ready to rip his hands off when—"Buck, don't."

Bucky just barely settles back at Tony's instructions, who's fidgeting with the uncomfortable collar.

"That's right doggy, sit."

Bucky can only glare at the arrogant man.

Bucky still gets Tony the most. He gets to see his light come back in the lab at night, eyes shining as he explains what he's doing to uneducated ears. He notices the way Tony perks up and smiles when Bucky comes over to chat during boring work events, making fun of how many times the team can say "efficiency" and "blue sky thinking" in a single meeting.

Bucky knows how many polite smiles Ty gets on their dates, and he knows how much real laughter he pulls out of Tony just on the drive home.

The bodyguard has come to peace with his role as the observer. Spending the rest of his life glued to Tony Stark's wall is worth the ache slowly eating him alive from the inside out.

Things change rapidly though. Bucky finally gets to dust off his knuckles to defend Tony's honour, but it doesn't feel good like he thought it would, nothing feels good when Tony's on the verge of tears.

Bucky had attended another date of the famed couple; a launch party where Ty had finally "let" Tony get tipsy on champagne. Bucky hadn't realized how much tolerance Tony had lost these past months limiting his alcohol, and it hit him hard and fast.

The pair were now giggling in the backseat as Bucky drove them home. Kissing, a little heavy petting. Nothing Bucky hasn't seen before, although it felt even more disturbing to witness with Ty.

"Mm, not here," he hears Tony mumble.

They continue kissing, then—"Ty I said not in the car. Bucky's right there," Bucky glances in the rearview mirror at his name. Ty has pulled Tony into his lap, a hand trying to sneak into his waistband.

"Half the media has seen you slutted out on poppers Tony, it's not like you have any modesty. Just wanna make you feel good baby," he says as his hand slides back down Tony's waistband.

Tony grabs at the hand awkwardly, fingers too weak in this state to pull it away.

Bucky doesn't even think about it. He jerks the steering wheel to the side with only the barest of glances that the road is clear, pulling into a ditch and slamming on the breaks.

The un-seatbelted pair in the back go flying, Tony landing on the floor with a yelp and Ty falling on top of him with an ugly awkwardness.

Bucky hops out of the driver's seat and yanks the back door open with his metal arm so hard it comes flying off. He tosses it somewhere behind him, reaching in and grabbing the scruff of Ty's suit jacket and dragging him out of the car.

"Get off me you fucking psycho! You could've killed us all, what is wrong with you!"

Bucky shoves him flat on his ass, hands scraping on the damp asphalt.

Bucky chases after him, and Ty has the intelligence to scramble backwards, fearful.

"Hey hey hey man, I'll sue you to all hell for this! Don't come near me, get back freak!"

Bucky's metal fist groans at the tightness as he gears up, but suddenly gentle hands are wrapped around his arm and Tony is stepping in front of him.

"Don't be stupid."

The pair make eye contact, a pleading in Tony's eyes that splashes water on Bucky's, a sizzling sound in his mind as he cools off.

"If you go to jail on a murder charge who's gonna watch The Fresh Prince with me, huh?"

He gives Bucky a soft smile, but Bucky only has those brimming tears in his vision.

Turning back to Ty the bodyguard speaks in a gruff voice, "get out of here before I decide to run you over."

Ty doesn't hesitate, clambering up and slipping around in his fancy leather shoes, running through the middle of the road as a car honks a near miss at him.

Tony drops Bucky's arm and speaks with resolution.

"Let's go."

Bucky watches the back of Tony's body walk defeated to the passenger seat.

Bucky gets in without a word. He starts the car, checks his mirrors and lights, and ignores the giant hole in the back of the vehicle. With a glance he turns to Tony and clicks the younger's seatbelt on for him before pulling back onto the road with an awkward rocking as the car struggles out of the ditch.

When they pull up to the Stark mansion neither of them get out, just sitting there in the dark with the metaphorical wall between them.

"My dad's probably gonna fire you for that. The Stones own nearly a quarter of our stock."

Bucky grunts, "I don't care. Anything to get his grubby hands off you."

He can feel Tony's stare burning the side of his face, but he doesn't meet it.

"If. If he fires you, can we still be friends?"

It's hope in his voice, but Bucky can't help but feel a tad disappointed. Friends.

"Of course. I'm always gonna be here to protect you doll, doesn't matter who's paying me or who's threatening me. I'll babysit your ass for free."

Tony smiles at that, "hug?" he asks with open arms.

He looks so sweet like this. Ruffled clothing, shy smile, earnest eyes. Bucky could never deny him, leaning over and hugging the other.

It's a bit awkward, but it suits them. They pull back slowly, hesitant to let go. Bucky meets those warm brown eyes, lashes clumping from the rainfalls of sadness earlier, and then suddenly he's being kissed.

It's hard, a starving thing. Bucky can't get a word in edgewise, everytime he moves away to speak Tony follows him, crawling over the cupholder right into Bucky's lap.

Bucky grabs his hips, strong and possessive. Decides to kiss back because oh god is it a million times better now that he knows what he looks like with a pillow imprint on his cheek, how he gets giggly from sleep deprivation, how he sings along to the Fresh Prince theme song, the resignation whenever his father speaks to him, the kindness to every waiter and the sass to the paparazzi when he steps into their flash, the way he shovels breakfast cereal into his mouth like a sport, the chatter in the middle of the night to his robots when he thinks Bucky is asleep on the couch.

It's Tony, it's really Tony, finally his.

Tony pulls back gasping for air because he kisses like a drowning man. He rests his forehead against Bucky's collarbone and the bodyguard kisses the top of his head before wrapping his arms around him. If he had a choice this is exactly how he'd do his job, with Tony trapped between his arms as often as possible.

"That's okay right?" muffles Tony from the mouth pressed to his shirt.

"Beautiful, I am so much more than okay right now."

Bucky can feel the way his lips upturn on his skin, so he grabs Tony's head between two large palms and pulls him away to see.

Tony's face is gloriously bathed in peace and warmth. Blinding toothiness, cheeks so plump they almost obscure the eyes that dart back and forth on Bucky's face as he listens to the man.

"I am so in love with you I was prepared to put up with that bag of dicks just to be able to watch you from the sidelines. To see you happy in that lab doing what you love."

"SI could burn down tomorrow for all I care, I don't need Ty, I don't need his money. Was always looking at you, god you look hot when you're jealous."

He kisses Bucky again, less hurried but just as passionate, wet and slow with probably too much tongue; Bucky is already so close to devouring the boy whole he doesn't care.

"S'not jealous," Bucky slurs between kisses.

Tony sends him a playful glare.

"Okay, maybe a little. He doesn't deserve you."

"Oh, and you do?" Tony only teases, but Bucky's heart twinges.

"No, but at least I can protect you."

Tony's eyes go soft and he cups Bucky's face, forcing him to meet his warm eyes.

"You're probably the only person in the world who would take a bullet for me, but would also listen to me rant about the coding bug I couldn't find for thirty minutes."

Bucky smirks at the memory.

"You were huffin and puffin like a toddler, it was adorable."

"Do you know how hard it is to find an extra period in 70 lines of code!"

Bucky gazes up at the worked up man with a look of pure adoration that turns Tony's ears red.

"No, but I know how to kiss someone who does."

"Oh. That's good, you should do that. You should do a lot actually," Tony breathes desperately.

Bucky kisses him while opening the car door, stepping out with Tony still koala-ed to his front. He only clings tighter, with more intention as his arms pull Bucky's neck closer.

"Mm, not tonight doll. You've had a rough night. In the morning though..." Bucky trails off with a possessive tightening of his hands on Tony's thighs.

Tony gasps, pressing closer.

"Yes. That's, that's a good plan. Take me to bed," Tony speaks with their lips still brushing.

"To cuddle."

Tony let's out a frustrated groan.

"Ugh, fine. And to make out too."

Bucky can't say no to him.

[strawbrryvyy]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Dripping oceans -pwb ࿐ྂ

Pairing- Park Wonbin x fem!reader

genre- fluff, smut

tw- fingering, (general smut ) , so nothing too freaky

Wc-2.4k

a/n: wrote this while at the beach, with situationshippppp soooo lightly based on that!!

The splashes of water against your skin echoed through the salty, crisp air. The sun cast a golden glow, illuminating the subtle tan you had garnered over the past few days. You looked at Wonbin with glee, his dark hair damp and tousled, contrasting against the pale grains of sand as he rolled around with your brother.

The warmth of the afternoon wrapped around you like a gentle embrace as you stretched your legs out, toes curling into the damp shoreline. The waves lapped at your ankles, cool and refreshing—a stark contrast to the heat lingering on your sun-kissed skin.

Wonbin’s laughter rang out, rich and carefree, as he playfully tackled your brother into the sand. Grains clung to his damp skin, speckling his toned arms and the curve of his cheek, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was in his element—unbothered, unfiltered, his usual polished demeanor melting away under the golden light.

"Oi! Why are you staring at us like that, you weirdo?" your brother, Sungchan, called out, standing victorious at 186 cm of pure mischief. He quirked a brow at you, hands on his hips as he loomed over Wonbin, who was still lying in the sand.

You rolled your eyes, sticking out your tongue. "Just watching you and Wonbin act like five-year-olds," you scoffed before letting yourself sink back into the water. The cool waves swirled around you, but they did little to calm the heat spreading through your body.

Your thoughts began to spiral as you felt Wonbin’s eyes burning into you—an unwavering stare he had been giving you all morning, ever since you left the beach house. Was it your swimsuit? You sure hoped so.

You had picked this set with careful intention—a light pink bralette adorned with delicate bows stitched on the straps , the fabric hugging your curves enough that it left most men wanting more . The matching bottoms clung to your thighs, damp and warm from the sun. Absentmindedly, you lifted one leg slightly in the water, the movement slow and deliberate, as if testing him.

When you finally glanced back at Wonbin, his tongue darted out to wet his lips, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. His gaze flickered from your leg to your face, then back again, dark with something unreadable yet electrifying.

As you made eye contact , heat spread through your cheeks , making you look away softly,Wonbin chuckled as he took in your bashful state, his thoughts practically visible to anyone who wasn’t your oblivious big brother who was now trying to push wonbin into the crystal ocean.

“Wait..ugh i forgot my board”sungchan mumbled,making you perk up

“Ill get them, i wanted to get some snacks anyways” you said ,cheeks sticking out from the empty stomach you had since the morning.sungchan looked at you with a giddy smile 

“REALLY? Thanks sis!” he bellowed loud enough to make wonbin wince before his eyes darted to me .

“I can come with to help you carry everything”he said making your eyes widen as you took in his suggestion. However just as wonbin uttered those words, the idiot you call your brother began to shout in protest spouting random sentences about how you could handle it and how he didnt want to be left alone.

“..I can do-” “no. its fine ill come with” he interrupted making you form a small smile on your face at his words as you nodded.

You shook your head at Sungchan’s dramatic whining, but before he could throw an even bigger fit, you turned on your heel, making your way toward the beach house. The hot sand tickled your feet as you walked, and you could hear Wonbin’s footsteps falling in line behind you.

The moment you were out of Sungchan’s earshot, Wonbin let out a low chuckle. "You know, you’re really cute when you get all flustered," he mused, his voice teasing yet laced with something deeper, something that made your stomach twist.

You scoffed, though your cheeks burned at his words. "I wasn’t flustered."

Wonbin hummed, clearly unconvinced. "Right."

The path to the beach house was quiet aside from the distant sound of waves crashing and the occasional seagull squawking overhead. The further you walked, the more you became aware of Wonbin’s presence—of how his arm brushed against yours, of the way his gaze lingered just a second too long whenever you looked at him.

By the time you reached the wooden steps of the house, your heartbeat was hammering against your ribs. You pushed open the door and stepped inside, the cool air instantly kissing your warm skin. The surfboards were propped neatly against the far wall, but you ignored them for a moment, heading straight for the kitchen.

You opened the fridge, scanning the shelves for something quick to grab. Wonbin leaned against the counter, watching you with an unreadable expression. His damp hair was still slightly tousled, his skin glowing under the soft lighting of the house.

"You’ve been staring all morning," you murmured, breaking the silence.

Wonbin smirked. " can you blame me?"

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling very aware of just how little space was left between you two. The air shifted, thick with unspoken tension.

His fingers brushed against yours as he reached past you, plucking a cold bottle of water from the fridge. The contact sent a jolt up your spine. You turned to face him, only to find that he had already closed the distance between you.

His voice was lower now, teasing yet firm as his fingers hover over my bare thighs . "I might just have to do something about it."

Your breath hitched. The way he was looking at you—dark, intense, filled with something unspoken—made your knees feel weak.

"Then do something," you challenged softly.

Wonbin exhaled sharply, his smirk faltering for just a second before something more serious took over. He leaned in, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, smell the faint scent of saltwater clinging to him.

But before anything could happen, the front door burst open.

“Wonbin, y/n ! Where’s my board? What’s taking so—” Sungchan’s voice rang through the house, and you practically jumped a foot away from Wonbin.

Wonbin groaned, rubbing his temple as if physically pained by the interruption. You, on the other hand, felt your face burning as you whirled around to grab the surfboard, holding it out like a shield.

"Here! Take it!" you snapped, flustered beyond belief.

Sungchan blinked, completely oblivious. "Uh… okay?" He grabbed the board, giving you a weird look before turning back to the door. "Hurry up! The waves are gonna be sick in like, ten minutes!"

The second he left, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Wonbin, however,  stood , shaking his head.

"Sungchan  has the worst timing," he muttered.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing. "Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get back before he starts yelling again."

But as you turned to leave, Wonbin caught your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. You glanced up, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, the playful smirk was gone—replaced with something softer, something more genuine.

"This isn’t over," he murmured.

A shiver ran down your spine, but before you could respond, he let go, grabbing a bag of snacks and heading toward the door.

Soon as the sun began to merge with the moon , you three decided to go back, the day taking a toll on your bodies and leaving you guys with weariness embedded in your bones.

Your bed was all you could think about as you sat on it drying your hair after taking a shower, the water particles still dripping from your locks.sungchan and wonbin should’ve been asleep by now, so you had to be quiet not to make too much of a ruckus.

Knock.knock.knock. They startled you , causing you to nearly drop the heavy dryer from your hand making you wince .

“Come in”you mumbled , slightly annoyed as you began to detangle the wet curls.

“Hi” “oh” it was wonbin, his shoulder length hair slightly disheveled and wet, letting you know he just took a shower as well. Your cheeks were dusted with a rosy tint as you saw how well his grey sweatpants and t-shirt clung to his body. Specifically the sweatpants.

“Did you..did you need anything”you ask, turning away from him to put the dryer away, not noticing his trek towards you , right next to your ear as he whispers.

“Yeah, you” his whisper causes  chills to run down your body as you turn to him slowly, one hand in his chest 

“W-what?…” as you began to question his motives he closed the distance between your lips.Your mouth molded into one as you melted into the kiss, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. Your breath hitched as his lips moved against yours, slow and deliberate, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, trying to steady yourself, but the warmth of his body and the intensity of the kiss made it impossible to think clearly. His grip tightened, one hand sliding up your back as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His dark eyes bore into yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite place—something dangerous, something thrilling.

“Need these off” he whispers as he begins to tug at your shorts”and these” he says with his other hand groping your breast eliciting a moan as you nod at his words already in a hazy mind.

“Pl-please”you whine as he successfully tugs of your shirts, his hands next focusing on your panties

“Cute, my melody”he smirks patting your covered core as you blush even more crimson.

”lemme”he sticks his tongue out abit as he pulls them down before rubbing your pussy slowly causing a groan to fall from your lips

“Ah…ugh …” your whines come out soft and like honey to his ears as your juices start to coat his fingers.

“Already so wet baby..fuck” he lets out as he begins to put in a finger. As he does this more gasps and whines that mush into one come out from your mouth.He pumps in his digit before pumping it out and pumping it back in once again.he does this once, twice, thrice and by the fourth time, the pace of his fingers going in and out have you quivering.

“Fuck baby…so tight and these …oh god these are just my fingers”he stares at you in awe as you nod, not really hearing  his words.

“Fu-fuck b-binnie …mhmm ugh!”

 “Shh quiet , your brother is right down the hallway”

As he said this you felt yourself get closer.so close , so close to the high you knew he could give you.

Another one in.Another one out .The squelching sounds of skin on skin were heard as you finally felt your head tilt back , eyes rolling back as a gush of white cum flowed out you onto his fingers.stars.no you saw more than stars, you could see each particle all the way to jupiter as you felt his fingers finally pull out of your cunt.

“Yum… baby”he whispered as he brought  his fingers closer to his lips, licking them as if tasting a sweet dessert given to him after a long period of starvation.

As you look at him you feel yourself grow wt again, the fact he was fully clothed while you were there shorts down and panties nealy ripped stirred the gush within your core once again.his bulge was evident as well, and your staring must have been seen by him as he hooks his sticky finger under your chin while putting another one in your mouth, making you gag slowly as he laps your mouth with his long digits.

“Yeah … sweet girl shit, you like that right…fuck need to be in you”his voice makes you slightly trembles as you tig at his pants , making him spill out another string if curses.

“Fuck yeah..”he moans as he pushes his own sweatpants and boxers down, his hard length sticking against his stomach.you couldnt help but stare at his cock. It was a light pink at the top and curved a little upwards.it was long and girthy and nearly made your mouth water as wonbin pulled you by your waist, his actions were quick as he aligned his cock with your entrances before slowly pushing it in.You both gasped at the same time at the sensation.You let out a whine as he guided himself deeper and deeper within you 

“Ugh..ngh..mmh agh!”you nearly scream as he covers your mouth while bottoming inside you .

“Quiet, fuck you’ll m-make us g-get caught”he stammers as he roamed his  hands over  your body, unclipping her bra and letting it fall to the floor.your  breasts spilled out, nipples already hard and begging for his touch.

He took one in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, eliciting a gasp from you as he plunged in and out of your pussy, your muffled moans begging to be heard by nearly everything and everyone . His teeth grazed your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.your bodies moved in a rhythm driven by  a primal urge to fuck The sound of your flesh slapping together filled the air, a delicious symphony of desire that seemed to amplify the pleasure.

Your  second orgasm began to  build , a tight coil deep within h, threatening to unravel at any moment. you could feel  wonbin’s  own climax approaching, his breathing growing ragged, his hips pistoning into you with increasing urgency.

"Oh, fuck," she moaned, your  nails digging into the his arms  as your  legs trembled with the effort to stay standing.

"Come for me," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

The dam  finally broke  your orgasm crashed over like the waves that splashed around you in the morning sun , your body convulsing as he pulled out from  you , and released   a hot sticky load. 

Your breaths lingered through the air as he took you in his arms, wrapping them around your waist as he pressed a kiss on your temple , making you giggle.

“You know i don’t want this to be a one time thing inly right“

“I know”you smiled as you peppered his face with light kisses inly to be stopped by a knock.

“PARK WONBIN I SWEAR TO GOD IF TOU DONT GET THE FUCK OUT OF HER ROOM RIGHT NOW!”

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

[lunajay33]

Under the Moon

•🪻🌑•

Summary: You’re out in the woods with your twin brother Stiles and Scott, on one of their stupid adventures when you get separated and attacked, bleeding in the cold the mysterious Derek Hale finds you and guides you through this new life

Pairing: Derek Hale x Stiles Twin sister

Includes: 18+, slow burn, some angst

•Masterlist•

I was being dragged along to yet another one of Stiles and Scott’s stupid ideas, they heard over the radio that a body was found in the woods and like boys they wanted to see, so being stiles twin and attached at the hip he brought me along

We were walking through the woods the night chilly and the moon high in the sky

“Come on guys we’ve been looking forever let’s just go home” I say

“No we came with a purpose and we’re finding that body” as we keep looking a car and sirens pull up, thankfully Scott pulled me behind a bush hiding us both leaving Stiles to deal with our father, making it so hard not to laugh watching him awkwardly try and come up with a lie

“And where’s your buddy Scott? Or your sister? YOU GUYS OUT THERE?!” He yells out

“Nope just me”

“Alright, get in the car I’m taking you home” stiles sighs and soon it’s just me and Scott in the woods as the car leaves

“Guess we should head back” as we walk back to town we hear rustling and a deep growl coming from behind us, fear takes over us both

We turn seeing a huge animal with red glowing eyes looking straight at us, and it pounces coming for us, Scott takes my hand and we run for dear life but I’m the chaos we get separated, Scott I hope found a hiding spot in the hill he fell down

I still hear the animal on my tail so I keep running even though my legs are burning, I see a abandoned house near by, the old Hale house, just as I get a glimmer of hope I’m tackled to the ground and an immense pain clamps down on my shoulder

I let out a blood curdling scream, thinking this is the end but then I feel its jaws let go and it runs away, leaving me shaking and blood quickly rushing down my neck and pooling in the leaves underneath me

Feeling my adrenaline crash not even hearing the crunch of leaves of someone approaching me, being pulled to lay on someone’s lap as their fingers glide around the bite

I look up feeling hazy noticing it’s a guy, he was stunning, dark hair and light eyes with a bit of a scowl, our eyes meet and he softens

“Help me……please” and the next second he picks me up and runs to his car, in a blur I’m being rushed into the hospital and Melissa is taking me back, the exhaustion takes me and I pass out

•

I wake to the sun beaming in my face and a dull ache in my shoulder and neck, remembering its jaws clamp around me

I get up groggy and look around the room when stiles and dad walk in worried, they rush to me and pull me into a hug

“What the hell were you thinking you had me worried sick”

“I’m sorry dad I just wanted to make sure they didn’t get into trouble and then I saw this huge animal and…..it got me” I say looking down at my lap upset I let him down

“I’m not upset Angel, I’m just so glad you’re okay, you’re both okay”

“Can you take me home”

“Come on sis I got you” stiles takes me home in his jeep as dad had to get back to work

Laying in bed stiles sat beside me and I could tell he was desperate to ask questions

“Go ahead spaz and ask what you want to” I smile still a bit tired

“Scott got home, how did you get to the hospital because from the amount of blood on you shirt there was no way you walked to the hospital”

“I…..someone must have found me, a jogger maybe” he looked skeptical but I didn’t even know the truth really, just some guy saved me

He hangs out with me for the rest of the day till it was time to change my bandage, he leaves to check in with Scott, I go into the bathroom and pull off the gauze and when I look in the mirror nothings there just a few dry streaks of blood, panicked I turn to look at the back of my shoulder and nothings there either

“What the hell?”

“Y/n! I’m home!” Dad yells from down stairs, I quickly place a new bandage for now so no one asks why I don’t have it on a suppose to be fresh wound

I walk downstairs to see him placing Chinese take out on the table

“Hey sweetheart how’re you feeling?” Confused as hell

“Tired and sore” we talk a bit and eat supper together before I head to bed with a million thoughts racing through my head

•

The next morning I wake early and head back out to the woods to where everything happened hoping I’ll find answers

The day is misty and the woods are eerily quiet as I walk back towards the burned hale house, when I get close I see that man again standing infront of the house, arms crossed and looking straight at me

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, his voice low and gravelly

“I…..I don’t know…” I feel like these past few days have been a fever dream

“You’re the girl I saved” he says realizing who I am

“You’re the guy that saved my life I suppose” I smile awkwardly

He walks closer till he’s so close I can feel his body heat against mine

“I…..I don’t know what’s happening to me” I say scared and in that moment I feel a sharp pain in my gums and I whine covering my mouth I feel him hold my arms as I whimper as something glides out of my gums, I look back up at him with tears streaming down my face and his eyes glow wide, he pulls the shoulder of my hoodie to the side and rips of the bandage to see no wound

“You’re changing” I feel even more panicked at that

“What’re you talking about” I lift my hand and feel the sharpness of fangs he takes my hand gently and leads me towards the house

“Come on I’ve got a lot to tell you”

•

Over the next few hours he tells me everything, what I’m changing into, that he’ll guide me through this new life and that I don’t have to be scared

“So I’m a werewolf? Like you?” He nods and squeezes my hand

“This is crazy” with heightened hearing we hear two voices outside walking towards the house and I recognize who it is, we both walk outside and they notice us freezing

“Y/n what the hell are you doing with him alone?” Stiles scolds as he comes over and pulls me over to him and Scott

“I was just…..thanking him” I say embarrassed

“For what?” Scott asks

“He saved me, I would’ve bleed out that night if it weren’t for him” stiles sighs and looks back at Derek who’s scowling almost like he wants to growl

“Come on we should get you home” the three of us walk away but me and Scott look back at Derek before he walks back into the burned house

•

We get home and the two of them sit at the foot of my bed

“What the hell is going on with you two lately?” Stiles groans as he looks between us

“I got bit too that night, on my side but the next day……it was gone” my eyes widen

“Mine too” I pull my hoodie aside and show them the clear skin and stiles obviously freaks out

“Okay im about to lose my mind!” Stiles says running his hand over his buzz cut

“Derek found me, I thought I’d go back to where I was attacked for answers and well…..I got them, he says we’re changing”

“Changing? Into what?” Scott asks

“Werewolves”

“Holy shit this is insane……but so cool” styles admits making all of us feel lighter

“Derek said he’d help us, we just have to keep it to ourselves, no one can know, and we need to contain our aggression”

“I’ll help you both with that” stiles beams and he starts research, Scott was still shocked but seemed to adjust just as quickly as I did

•

It’s been a week and so far it seems Scott’s having more difficulty with managing his rage than me

Derek said everything we were as humans intensifies but neither I nor Scott were angry people but I guess it’s just because of his hormones and his competitive side

School finished and Scott stiles and myself were out on the lacrosse field, they were practicing while I sat on the bleachers and worked on some homework

“You seem to be a natural at this wolf life, if I didn’t know you I’d think you were born into it” Derek says scaring me as he come and sits next to me, coming out of nowhere like usual, always so stealthy

“God you scared me!” I sigh as I close my books and give him my full attention, ever since he saved me I’ve had this undeniable pull towards him even if the guys were still weary

“Still have to train your hearing, soon you’ll hear me coming from a mile away” he smirks

“So are you always going to be on my tail?” I laugh

“I told you I’d watch out for you, can be hard for some people to adjust”

“Thank you, I know it’s probably not fun having to run around worrying about us, I know you’re only like 4 years older but still”

“Those guys yeah it’s annoying, but seeing a pretty face never hurts” a blush erupts along my cheeks, he’s going to be the death of me

•

Part.2

If you wanna be apart of this taglist lmk

[random-thot-generator]

Try a Little Tenderness

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: Simon has just returned home in the middle of the night from a mission in less than stellar condition. Understanding that he was in desperate need of some TLC, you put aside the ‘frenemy’ dynamic the two of you usually operate within to take care of him, instead. Your gentle ministrations elicit a reaction that neither of you expect, but perhaps have been yearning for all along.

Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, touching of naughty bits - Simon gets a helping hand in the bath, fluff and feelings, no Y/N

(A/N: This is a thot connected to an idea I had for a series. Still not sure about the series, but what ev. 

This is just me exploring the intimate relationship between the characters. It is minor smut compared to what I usually write, meant to be a vulnerable moment for Simon, and for reader as well. I dunno, I feel like a certain amount of trust needs to be established before Simon allows himself to be with someone in an intimate way. 

For a little backstory, Reader is Simon’s housekeeper/roommate/frenemy. It’s been platonic up to this point, but there have been some charged moments leading up to this. This is the turning point in the relationship, the first time Simon allows himself to really indulge in reader’s attention and care. Reader and Simon have been living together for about a year by this point but have known each other for almost two. Simon’s pet name for reader is ‘Doll’; reader’s pet name for Simon is ‘Grumpy’.)

Word Count: 2777

It was almost midnight by the time Simon shuffled through his front door. He was dead on his feet, still wearing the same clothes he put on three days ago, covered in filth and stinking to high hell. He would normally have stayed on base, cleaned up, ate and retired to his quarters to rest, but for some reason, he’d texted you mid-flight to tell you he was on his way back. He hadn’t been expecting an immediate answer, but he got one.

[DOLL]: What’s ur ETA? I’ll wait up 4 u. Have u eaten? 

Simon had hovered over his phone, glancing about the plane, not sure how to respond. He supposed he didn’t have to stay on base. He’d just never had a reason to return home before. He knew he should tell you not to wait up, to go to bed, that he would see you tomorrow, but instead he found himself tapping out a different message.

[GRUMPY]: Landing in twenty. Be home approx 2hrs.

[DOLL]: I’ll be waiting. C u soon.

He re-read the message several times. ‘I’ll be waiting.’ This was new for him, having someone to go home to, having someone there expecting him, waiting up to see him. Sure, he had come home to you before, but not like this. This was... premeditated.

As he closed the door behind him and locked it, he heard your feet padding through the sitting room and turned. He couldn’t help the smile that spread under the balaclava when he saw you. You were dressed in one of his old T-shirts, a pair of flannel sleep shorts peeking out beneath the hem, and a pair of those ugly fuzzy socks on your feet. Your hair was loose and hanging down your back, not quite dry yet from an earlier shower, and your face was free of makeup. He liked seeing you like this better than any other way.

You were looking at him in that direct way that always got to him, assessing him, checking him over. He waited for one of your customary snarky greetings, but instead your brows furrowed.

“You look exhausted, Si. C’mere. Sit down,” you instructed, pointing at the entryway bench. Simon didn’t even hesitate, just did as he was told. He watched you kneel before him and start unlacing his boots.

“Ya don’t got t’do that, Doll. I can―“

“Si, hush,” you murmured, your voice soft and gentle. “I got this, okay? You’re home. Relax.”

He didn’t have it in him to argue, so let you have your way. You removed his boots and stuck them under the bench by his trainers, then stood and held your hand out. “C’mon. You need a bath.”

He let you lead him up the stairs, but instead of taking him to his ensuite bathroom, you led him down the hallway to the bathroom that you used. You motioned for him to sit down on the toilet while you stoppered the tub and turned on the taps. He watched with curiosity as you opened the cabinet below the sink, taking out a glass jar filled with some sort of pinkish granules, sprinkling a generous portion of it into the filling tub.

“Wha’s that?”

“Epsom salts with lavender and eucalyptus. It’ll help ease your sore muscles,” you told him, replacing the jar in the cabinet. You turned to look him over again. “Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes. I’ll get you some clean ones once you’re in the bath. C’mon. Arms up.”

Simon thought about objecting. He was a grown man, he could undress himself, but as soon as he felt your hands on him, all complaints went right out the window. He held his arms out so you could pull the tail of his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, shivering when he felt your fingers graze his lats as you peeled it up and over his head.

“I smell like shite,” he grumbled, embarrassed for you to be this close to him when he was in such a disgusting state.

You huffed, the sound low and amused. “You smell like a soldier who just got back from deployment. Believe me, I’ve smelled worse.” You motioned for him to stand again. Once he regained his feet, your hands went to his waist, undoing the belt and pulling it free, then you undid the button and fly of his jeans. You pushed them down until they bunched around his knees, then instructed him to lean on you while you tugged them off his legs.

And he just... let you. He had not had anyone care for him like this since his last stint in the medical bay, and that had been a male nurse with hands rougher than his own. He’d not had a woman care for him like this since he was a small boy, when his mother would get him ready for his bath. He felt his chest constrict, almost told you to stop, but your hand on the back of his calf silenced him.

“Foot up,” you said, letting him lean on you again as you stripped off first one sock and then the other. Once you straightened, you placed a hand at the small of his back and gave him a gentle push towards the tub. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes while you get in,” you said, then stooped to gather up his dirty things. “Be back in a minute.”

You left him staring after you, disappearing down the hallway. He turned back to the tub, eyeing the hot water lapping at the sides. Aromatic steam rose from its surface, too tempting to ignore. Pushing his underwear off his hips, he let them drop on the floor and stepped out of them, then climbed into the tub.

He groaned long and low as the hot water enveloped him, certain he had never felt anything better in his whole life. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head back on the edge, only then realizing that he still had on his balaclava. He hesitated for a moment, then reached up and pulled it off as well, dropping the dirty hood on top of his underwear. Fuck it. You’d seen his face before and hadn’t made a big deal out of it, didn’t even comment on it, really, just took it in stride like you did everything else.

He cracked an eye open when you re-entered the room, watching as you placed his clean clothes on the counter next to the sink. You opened another cabinet and removed some towels and a washcloth, glanced over at him, then opened a drawer and took out what looked like a pack of wipes and a squat, plastic jar with a pink lid. You brought it all to the tub with you and knelt by the side, near his head. You held up the pack of wipes and pointed at the black paint around his eyes.

“Figured these would help take that gunk off. I’ve got some cold cream, too. Can I...”

You wanted to touch his face. His mouth dropped open to say no, but then he closed it and swallowed. You were looking right at him, a normal expression on your face, not flinching away or averting your eyes. If it didn’t bother you, then he would allow it. For now. He gave a slow nod of assent.

You opened the pack of wipes and set them beside you, then opened the cold cream. “Lean your head back and close your eyes for me.”

Simon did as he was told, though his brain was sounding a klaxon alarm in his head. He was exposing his throat to someone, was closing his eyes and leaving himself vulnerable to your mercy. Did you see how tense he was? Could you see the muscles spasming as he fought not to move, to push you away, to fend you off like an enemy? Did you understand what this was doing to him right now?

Apparently, you did, at least to some extent. 

“Okay, Si. I’m going to put this cream around your eyes. It will feel cold, so don’t freak out. If you need to stop, just say the word. Alright?”

“Yeah,” he croaked out, waiting, steeling himself for the contact.

The first touch had him flinching, but he forced himself to remain still as you spread the cream around his eyes, working it in with your fingers in small circular motions. When you finished, you set the jar down and picked up the wipes. “I’m gonna clean all this off with these wipes. They’ll feel cold, too.”

This time, he only nodded, more relaxed now. Your touch had been soothing once he’d gotten used to it. It was... nice. He didn’t even twitch an eyelash when he felt the cool pressure of your fingers against his jaw, letting you tilt his head towards you. Your other hand began wiping gently at his face with one of the wipes. They smelled slightly floral, similar to the cold cream; he liked it.

It took several minutes to clean his face, neither of you saying anything. You were patient and methodical, cleaning away all the paint until none of it remained.

“Okay. Done with that,” you murmured, fingers moving from his face to his hair. “I’m going to wash your hair next, okay?”

“Hm,” he hummed in consent, not even bothering to open his eyes.

You wet his hair and then poured shampoo into your palm, working your hands together before placing them on his head. As your fingers curled and began to work his hair into a lather, Simon couldn’t help the low groan that rumbled out. It felt like heaven, the way your fingers massaged his scalp and neck. He could have whined when you stopped, but his breath hitched when he felt your fingertips under his chin, tilting his head back.

“Just need to rinse your hair, Grumpy. Keep your eyes closed.”

Again, he did as you instructed, not offering so much as a grunt of complaint when you rinsed his hair and then used the washcloth to dry his face. You raked your fingers through his hair, noting how choppy and uneven it was. Maybe he’d let you cut it some time, but for now, you would stick to what you knew he would allow.

“How ‘bout I wash your back for you and then I’ll go downstairs and make you something to eat while you finish your bath?”

He blinked his eyes open and stared at you. The steam and trapped heat from the bath were making you sweat, a light sheen making your skin gleam in the warm light. He had the sudden urge to run his thumb up your throat, collect the moisture beading there and taste it. He felt his cock give a twitch of interest below the water and brought his bent knees closer together. Grasping the edges of the tub, he pulled himself in to a sitting position, back bowed towards you.

Pleased to see him so cooperative, you dunked the washcloth in the water and grabbed your body wash, squirting out a couple of dollops. Working the cloth in your hands until you had a good lather, you rested one hand on his shoulder and used the other to slowly scrub the cloth over his back in large circles. You could feel the tension easing out of his shoulders, watched his head tip forward until he finally crossed his forearms on his knees and rested his forehead against them.

When you were done with his back, you didn’t stop, moving up to his shoulders and then down his arm. He leaned back, studying the way you washed each finger, working the cloth between them. You glanced up at him. “Other arm?”

He twisted around and held his arm out to you, resting his wrist on the edge of the tub. You washed it with as much care as you had the other, leaning over the tub to reach his underarm. When you went to slide the cloth away, he caught your wrist and pulled it to the center of his chest. He then closed his eyes and leaned back, letting his head rest against the edge again.

Slow circles worked the lathered cloth over his broad chest and collarbones, and you smiled when he tipped his chin up to let you wash his neck. A soft breath hissed between his lips as your hand dipped below the water’s surface to wash his sides and stomach, his brows ticking together when you brought the cloth back up. He shifted, his knees going wide to lean against the sides of the tub.

You were beginning to feel heat simmering in your lower belly that sent a blush creeping up your neck. “Do, uh... I can wash your legs next. If you like.”

He caught your hand in his, eyes still closed, and pushed it beneath the water again. “Wash here,” he replied, his voice like gravel in his throat.

You held your breath as he guided your hand down to his cock, let him wrap your fingers around its swollen girth and hold them there. His chest was rising and falling, chin tipping forward to rest on it when he felt you grip him tighter. Your lips parted as you gave him a tentative stroke, your breath puffing out in little pants as you watched him let out a shuddering breath, his eyes rolling open to reveal a lust-dazed expression before sliding closed again.

Your hand slid up and down his shaft in slow, even strokes, working him gradually, wanting him to enjoy what you were doing to him. His pleasure incited your own, and you could feel your panties grow damp with your arousal as you watched him slowly fall apart. He was panting now, head lolling back once more, hooded, hazy eyes staring up at the ceiling, his knuckles going white as they gripped the edge of the tub.

Your thighs squeezed together when a wrecked moan tore from his lips as you worked at him beneath the cloudy water, wishing it was clear enough for you to see him as well as feel him. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, the feel of his hot length pulsing in your hand almost too much to bear.

“Ah, fuck...” he huffed out, his back beginning to curl forward. He lifted his eyes to yours, mouth open and panting, a look of near desperation on his face. His hand came up to grip the nape of your neck, drawing you close until his forehead rested against yours, holding your gaze. His nose brushed against yours in an intimate caress, lips almost touching, the two of you sharing the same air. “Don’t stop,” he husked out.

The speed of your strokes increased, your hand slipping up to focus on the head, making his knees draw up as he tensed. You could feel him swelling in your hand, growing bigger and harder as he neared his release. His eyes grew wide, mouth falling open as his jaw went slack.

“It’s okay, Simon,” you whispered to him, “I got you,” and that was all the prompting he needed.

His grip turned into a vice on the nape of your neck as he erupted beneath the surface of the water, and he growled against your mouth, teeth gritting into a snarl as he pulsed in your hand. You didn’t stop stroking him until his eyes closed and grip loosened on your neck, his breaths puffing out in exerted gasps over your lips.

You let him rest against you, not bothering to move or say anything, wanting him to have this quiet moment, to just relax in the knowledge that he was home and safe, that you were here for him. You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment as well, relishing the quiet, the peace.

Simon’s eyes flickered open, not sure what to expect, only to find your eyes closed, lashes shadowing your cheeks, a gentle smile on your face. You looked so calm, so at peace. You looked... content.

You blinked your eyes open, startled, when you felt the hesitant press of his lips against yours, but you didn’t shy away, instead letting him feel you smile against his lips before you tenderly kissed him back.

[yokumirumerafan]

Inspired by dandadan, can you make a female old hashira reader x platonic demon slayer (except for the uppermoons) ? the reader is like seiko ayase! both in personality and physique, she is old but maintains her youthful figure and fighting skills, she is very strong and retired, but she has a personality like the character! sarcastic, stubborn and sometimes acting like a young woman, she doesn't like to be treated with too much respect and she is very funny! :3

YEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS YOU JUST ACTIVATED A LEVEL 10 BADDIE REQUEST ✨👵💥

We got ourselves a Sarcastic, Retired, Baddie! Hashira Reader based on Seiko Ayase from Dandadan—you know what that means: 🔥 MILF ENERGY 🔥 She's got the skills to wipe the floor with demons 🔥 She's got the jokes, the sass, the “don’t you dare call me ma’am” energy 🔥 She's old, but her figure is giving “Are you sure you’re not 25?”

🔥 Kyojuro Rengoku

“Former Hashira-sama! It’s an honor to—”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll throw this sandal at your face.”

Kyojuro: 😳🔥

You remind him of his mom and a drunk aunt at the same time.

He admires your strength deeply, and you absolutely lecture him like a proud big sis.

“Eat more, kid. You're all bones and eyebrows.”

🌊 Giyuu Tomioka

You once slapped his shoulder and said, “Smile, Emo Water Boy!”

He blinked. You blinked back.

Then he actually chuckled.

You’re the first person who isn’t scared of awkward silences. You just fill them with jokes.

Calls you “Granny” once and nearly got drowned in tea.

🦋 Shinobu Kocho

Loves you. Absolutely ADORES your sarcasm.

You two gossip like two high school girls after a mission.

“That demon’s technique was flashy but shallow—like your eyeliner in 1902.”

You: 😌 “At least I had a social life, Butterfly Girl.”

Shinobu: 😭💅

🌸 Mitsuri Kanroji

You’re like her favorite wine aunt who shows up once a year and hugs her too tight.

“Mitsuri baby, how’s your love life? You bag a man yet? Or two?”

Mitsuri: 🥺 “I’m still working on it!”

You: “You need to lead with the boobs. I told you this.”

cue Mitsuri choking on mochi

⚡ Tengen Uzui

“Damn, old lady, still got it, huh?”

You: “Still got more than you do, Feather Boy.”

Instantly became besties.

You both have ✨extra✨ energy. Probably the loudest duo at any gathering.

He once challenged you to a flexibility contest. You won. Then pulled a muscle and smacked him with your fan.

😤 Sanemi Shinazugawa

He tried to act tough around you.

You: “Didn’t your mama ever teach you manners?”

Sanemi: “Tch—what’s it to y—”

You karate chopped his neck. He passed out for 3 seconds.

Now he acts like a grumpy nephew around you. Secretly respects the hell out of you.

You braid his hair once while he's injured. He doesn’t talk about it.

🐍 Obanai Iguro

You: “Why are you hissing, child? I already fed you.”

Obanai: “…”

You weirdly get along well. He doesn’t talk much, but you talk enough for the both of you.

Kaburamaru likes sitting on your shoulder.

You call him “No-Eye Emo Boy” and he grits his teeth but lets it slide.

🌫️ Muichiro Tokito

“Are you my grandma or my aunt?”

You: “I’m your nightmare.”

He asks the weirdest questions and you just roll with it.

He likes watching you fight—he says it looks like “a dancing dragon.”

You gave him candy once and now you’re his new favorite person. He forgets you’re “old.”

💪 Gyomei Himejima

“You are a shining example of strength and wisdom.”

You: “Awww, stop. You’ll make my old heart do a backflip.”

You two sit and meditate together, and you always end it with, “I miss when I could touch my toes.”

He tears up over how youthful your soul is.

🍡 Tanjiro Kamado

He’s so polite and sweet it makes your sarcasm go into overdrive.

“Thank you for the tea, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?! Oh honey, do I LOOK like your grandma??”

Tanjiro: 😭 “I’m sorry!”

But you adore him. You call him “sweet bean” and ruffle his hair like your own kid.

He’s your emotional support cinnamon roll.

⚡ Zenitsu Agatsuma

You flirt with him just to mess with him.

“Hey cutie, I’d date you if I was 70 years younger.”

Zenitsu: 💀💀💀

He screams in fear and love at the same time. You once paralyzed him by blowing him a kiss.

You call him your “emotional support pigeon.”

🐗 Inosuke Hashibira

“OLD WOMAN FIGHT ME!!!”

“CALL ME OLD AGAIN AND I’LL SNAP YOUR BACK LIKE A TOOTHPICK!”

You spar daily. You win daily.

He once said, “You’re fun. You fight like a bear who drinks tea.”

You’re now his favorite human. You let him wear your scarf once. He never gave it back.

💔 Genya Shinazugawa

Tries so hard to be respectful but you make it impossible.

“Genya baby, don’t look so stressed. You’ll wrinkle that cute face.”

“M-MA’AM??”

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me or I’ll call you Gen-Gen for life.”

You bond over sniping techniques and sibling trauma.

You absolutely baby him and he secretly loves it.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Perspective | Ghost x Reader

Day 1: Body Worship w/ Simon “Ghost” Riley

Summary: Simon Riley has always thought of himself as broken and undeserving of you, but you’re always there to quiet his intrusive thoughts.

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: A little bit of angst, scars, mentions of death and fighting, smut, oral (m receiving), fluffy smut??, sub!simon, not too bad

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: im so impatient like I can’t wait for october to start, so merry christmas and a happy new year you’re getting this one early lol. anyways, I’m a sucker for ghost fluff and it shows, not too sure about how this one turned out, but hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Masterlist

Simon Riley had thick skin.

It was obvious, really. You’d noticed it before in the little things while living in your home together. How the doors remained locked, everything stayed organized in the way he liked it, even how he was still getting used to being able to relax and let down his guard during the night.

But the wounds that lay deeper, engraved into the flesh beneath his skin, into his very heart, were ones he hadn’t let you see yet. Not until tonight, when you fumbled with the key to open the front door, knowing the loud knocking you would’ve usually done would probably disturb him.

The key decided to relent, letting you turn it and open the door as you walked into your home, the living room greeting you as the coat you were wearing was slipped off and placed onto the jacket rack to your left.

Simon wasn’t at the door to greet you like usual.

Strange.

Lips pressing into a thin line of mild worry, you mentally debated about it for a moment before calling out, trying to keep a bit of softness to your voice to not alarm him.

“Si?”

You began walking towards your shared bedroom’s bathroom when you heard a little clatter, the sound of something plastic hitting the floor, and low grumbling as you approached the door.

Your hand closed around the doorknob, the metal cold against your hand as you opened the door, peeking in, only to find Simon shirtless, sitting on the edge of the tub, with a tub of what looked to be some sort of lotion fallen over onto the floor.

You saw his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed, glancing from the lotion to you, eyes slightly wide and vulnerable like a child who’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

“Hey,”

You said, trying to figure out what was going on as you crouched down, picking up the tub of lotion and reading the label on the front.

‘Scar Therapy’

“Hey.”

He said, voice thick with something you couldn’t figure out as he stared down at you, watched as your eyes softened, soft hand coming to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbing against his scar-covered skin.

Your head tilted to the side a bit, and Simon knew that look. You had probably already guessed what was happening here, but you wanted his version of it.

It was almost funny how nervous he suddenly felt. He was a Lieutenant, he’d killed men with nothing more than shrapnel, taken out entire military bases, and taken down powerful people, but it didn’t compare to this. Because he had to let his walls crumble even more than they already had with you, and it was terrifying, to let anyone in.

“I was just—my scars, they were…”

He mumbled, the old habit creeping back in. A momentary pause as his eyes met yours for a moment, and he forgot to breathe for a few seconds before getting the rest of his sentence out.

“Hurting. They were hurtin’.”

You moved subtly closer to him, your right hand dipping into the tub of lotion, the same hand approaching a nasty mark across his chest. You looked up at him, waiting for his approval, and he gave a small nod, watching with bated breath as your fingers began pressing the lotion onto the scar, gently massaging it in with small circles.

It was almost like you’d pressed a button in him, with how he seemed to almost deflate at that, heaving a deep breath out as he went pliant in your arms, only barely holding himself up.

Your fingers moved from his chest and torso to his biceps, and finally to his back, where one of the thicker scars near his spine was.

You could’ve sworn he almost whimpered, eyes squeezing shut and lips parting.

“Gentle,”

He breathed, and you let up a bit with your fingers, only giving featherlight strokes now, his breathing growing almost ragged as the both of you remained there for a long moment, that was until the lotion had been fully rubbed into his skin, and you reached to put the lid back on the container.

The silence seemed nearly impenetrable as he cracked his eyes open, following your every move, from the quiet screwing sound of the lid being put back on, to you placing it into the small cabinet area under the sink and closing it with a dull thud.

“Let’s go to bed.”

You spoke softly as if talking to a wounded animal, while slipping your hand into his significantly larger one, giving a small tug. He rose obediently, following behind you, deathly silent, feet rolling to not make any noise as he slipped into the bed beside you.

Both of you simply lay there for a while, him staring at the ceiling before he turned on his side to face you.

”Why do ya put up with me?”

He asked, a heartbreakingly vulnerable softness to his tone as if he was whispering something secret, something he didn’t want anyone else to know. Your brows furrowed as you turned on your side to face him, opening your mouth to speak, but he cut you off before you could get it out.

”I’m not..easy to deal with, ‘m fucked up, broken, so why do you keep lettin’ me come back—come home—to you?”

You didn’t have to look at his big, brown eyes to know that tears were welling in them, though you did anyway. You could only hope that he could see the sincerity in your gaze, that for once, he could finally believe you when you told him what he was.

”You’re not broken, Si.”

Your tone was soft, a gentle caress, but also carried a bit of firmness to it. That was that. No negotiation. Or at least, that’s how it should’ve been, but Simon Riley was more stubborn than you gave him credit for.

He huffed, though it mildly resembled a sniffle.

”You’ve seen my scars, I’m fuckin’ ruined, I don’ know what you see in me.”

He was trying to sound firm and stubborn, but you could still hear that vulnerability from earlier that was now hidden behind walls he’d built up. Walls he always put up when he was afraid.

”You want to know what I see in you?”

You asked, the idea already weaving together in your mind. It might not work, he might just reject your thoughts and praise, but it was worth a try. It was worth it for him.

Your right hand slowly began trailing onto his waist, and you saw his gaze snap down to it as he watched you rub little circles onto his hips. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, the calculating in his eyes, trying to figure out what you were doing, but this wasn’t a battlefield, and he was out of his element.

”Well, what I see,”

You began, voice a low murmur as your hand slowly trailed upwards onto his chest. His body became almost wholly still, stiff and tense, but he didn’t push you off, didn’t tell you to stop. Your hand slowly slid his shirt up, leaving his torso and chest bare to your view. You leaned in closer, your left hand going to slide his shirt further up, then right over his head, disheveling his short blond hair, before the shirt was tossed onto the floor.

”I see a man who’s gone through hell and back, and lived to tell the tale.”

You murmured, hot breath fanning against his skin as you began slow, light kisses against the scar on his breath, your hand now moving to gently caress the skin you weren’t peppering with kisses. His breath hitched in his throat.

You moved up, now at his collarbone as you began the trail of kisses again, from the sharp angles of his collarbone to the broadness of his shoulders, down to his biceps and forearms with the thick muscle adorning them, all the way down to his hands, where you kissed each calloused, rough fingerpad, stopping to look him in the eyes as you did it.

”I see a man who’s been treated so harshly his entire life, he doesn’t know how to handle love.”

He stared back at you, eyes wide, lips slightly trembling. His hands began shaking.

You moved down, hands fumbling with the metal of his belt for a moment, until his large, warm palm enveloped your hand, moving it away momentarily, only to unbuckle it himself, muscle memory kicking in as he unzipped his fly, slowly kicking his pants off, eyes meeting yours as the kisses began from his naval to his muscular thighs, and his ankles, before pulling away momentarily.

“I see a man who’s always been selfless and brave for other people, and never taken a thing for himself.”

You almost whispered, one finger slipping under his boxers, pausing, then continuing when he didn’t object, sliding the cloth down, down, down, till it was at his ankles, and it, too, got to join the pile of clothes on the floor. His hands were shaking worse now. You gingerly let your hand approach his cock, half-hard, and slowly wrapped your fingers around it, thumb rubbing against the tip as he gasped lowly, breath shuddering as his hips tried to jolt.

You didn’t stop him. That was a rule between you two, one that had been discussed before, no holding down or forcing, consent, and safe-words. He had a history, one he hadn’t shared yet, but you’d be patient and let him open up when he wanted to.

”Please,”

He breathed, head thrown back as you began gently rubbing, leaning down to slide the tip in between your lips, giving small licks as his body bucked up. You weren’t one to deny him, not when he was so relaxed now, taut muscles turning to putty beneath your fingers and mouth as you took him deeper, licking under his shaft, before sliding more in as he let out a low groan that sounded like a whimper, almost.

He was mumbling something under his breath, mouth agape as his hand snuck into your hair, trying not to be rough when he buried his fingers into it. He might’ve been begging, you couldn’t make much out of it, though.

Willing your throat to relax, you slid your throat down on him, further and further until your nose met the happy trail between his legs, and you saw the muscles of his thighs tense, flickering and jolting slightly, a sign of his impending climax as you lowly bobbed your head up and down. His hips jolted to life, though you could see the conscious effort he made to not harm you at all. With the shallow thrusts he made, it wasn’t long before he was moaning something incoherent, words slurring with a thick British accent he could usually keep under wraps.

Gingerly pulling off of him, you took a deep breath, softly panting as you grabbed the water bottle on the nightstand and took a swig, the liquid washing down whatever was left behind in your throat. You moved up on the bed, hand slipping under Simon’s head and carefully lifting, placing a pillow behind it, and bringing the bottle to his lips.

He would need the fluid after that, probably.

His throat bobbed as he drank it, nearly emptying the entire bottle, before you drew it back and screwed the lid back on, placing it onto the nightstand. Slipping out of bed momentarily, you opened Simon’s underwear drawer, grabbing the softest pair of boxers you could find, before returning to him and carefully maneuvering his legs through the holes, pulling up, and managing to get them decently onto his large frame as he grunted, one large hand tugging at your arm to pull you down to him.

You hummed in acknowledgment of his little tug, laying down beside him and grabbing the blanket, pulling it over the both of you and settling into the arms he wrapped around you, face settling in the nook of your neck.

”Thank you.”

He whispered, eyes wet against the warmth of your skin. You weren’t sure which thing he was thanking you for, exactly, but you replied anyway, to the man who’d given and given and given and never asked for anything.

”Anytime, Simon.”

[riecoeur]

rumour.

pairing — athlete!lee chanyoung x fem!reader warnings — aged up, lowercase, just fluff and cute lee chanyoung part of — my gold metal husband .

today, your phone’s been going off nonstop since early morning, but you’re too lazy to bother checking. it’s not until your brother-in-law, junyoung, texts you that you finally take a look.

lee junyoung:

‘sis, i just saw something online about hyung, do you know yet?’

you blink and tap the link he sent. right away, a barrage of sensational headlines slams into you.

stuff like.

‘lee chanyoung: nation’s husband caught in affair scandal?’

‘gold medal swimmer spotted with a mystery woman, where’s y/n?’

‘even the ideal man can’t resist temptation?’

you burst out laughing.

you don’t rush to read the articles but instead, you scroll down to the comments. some people are shocked, some don’t buy it, and others are already jumping to judge, even though there’s no real evidence beyond a few blurry, long-distance photos where you can’t even make out faces.

but you spot her right away.

the woman in the pics? none other than ma soojin, chanyoung’s best friend from elementary school all the way through college.

after you two got married, she moved to australia with her family and only got back to korea a few weeks ago. just yesterday, chanyoung was buzzing with excitement, telling you how soojin asked him to grab a lunch to catch up after years apart.

and yet, somehow, the media’s spun this into an affair. your poor husband’s been totally framed. social media’s wildfire speed is no joke.

you keep scrolling through more comments.

‘no way lee chanyoung would do that!’

‘don’t judge without any solid proof, remember that other teammate’s mess last time?’

‘if it’s real, i’d be so let down… if even chanyoung’s like this, i’m done believe in love.’

you rest your chin on your hand, still giggling. if these people knew you’re reading ‘my husband’s cheating’ news and laughing this hard, they’d probably be stunned and think you’re unhinged.

chanyoung’s at the training center now, probably oblivious. you mull it over, thinking about texting him, but then decide against it. you know your husband, once he catches wind of this, he’ll shut it down fast and clean. all you have to do is sit back and wait.

and sure enough.

three hours later, when the rumors are peaking and blowing up every forum, chanyoung takes charge himself. he posts on his personal account, no fluff, no nonsense, straight to the point.

‘hey everyone,

about the rumors from yesterday, the woman in the photos is my best friend, soojin. she’s married and living happily with her little family. we’re just old friends catching up after she’s been abroad for years. please don’t spread false info that could hurt other people around me. thanks!’

with those few short lines, chanyoung snuffs out every last rumor.

the comments under his post start flooding in even more.

‘could he be any quicker???’

‘nation’s husband shuts down rumors faster than i turn in homework!’

‘say what you want, but seeing how happy his wife is, i’m convinced chanyoung’s faithful.’

‘seriously, this debunking speed is next-level.’

you read through them, unable to stop laughing, the more you read, the funnier it gets. you open your chat and fire off a message to him.

you:

you handled that so fast, i didn’t even get to fake being mad at you.

a few seconds later, he replies instantly.

🦕’s y/n:

gonna tease me again? not happening, babe. you’re the only one for me.

you stare at the message, a grin sneaking onto your face. yep, no matter how many absurd rumors swirl out there, you trust lee chanyoung and more importantly, he always proves your trust is right.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 169 (The Needy Newborn and the Squeaky Violin)

Life at home with a newborn (who liked to cry just for attention), and a five-year-old learning to play the violin was a racket, but Heather and Conrad settled into their parenting instincts as soon as they came home with baby Roan. They hated that Ash was back in the city, but they couldn't dwell on it now their household was even busier.

Lavender practiced day and night - the pets loved to watch and even tried to sing along. She grew more confident in her skills the more she practiced, but she still didn't like the idea of performing for an audience much larger than their pets.

Heather joined her in the kitchen on the morning before her first day of school. "Are you exited to see your friends from daycare at big school?"

"Only Barrett Hecking is my friend," she said. "I don't want too many friends, Mommy. Only good ones."

Heather's life was full of close friends, but Lavender was quieter. "I think it's a great thing to want the friends you have to be good ones," she offered with a supportive smile.

Conrad was as helpful as ever, getting Roan a bottle when Heather needed to pump and rest, and cleaning their adventurous dogs whenever they got into something outside.

When Mother's Day rolled around, Conrad and Lavender got Heather flowers. But she didn't feel much like celebrating herself without Ash around, and instead made the day about her own mother, Daisy.

"I'm really grateful that you've been here with us the last few months. Both you and Holly. I wouldn't have held it together without you. I know you'll both head back to your lives soon, but we've all loved having you here."

Adjusting to a new sleep schedule with their newborn, Conrad yawned on the sofa, his eyes heavy. And with Roan napping under the watchful eye of the pets, Holly turned the Grimophone on low - but she danced like the music was bumping through the walls of a nightclub.

"Dance with me, sis. You need to just relax for ten minutes and dance it all out. Trust me."

Despite all the stress, and Conrad napping between them, Heather started moving her hips. She loved dancing, loved the freedom she felt as her body moved to the music, and slowly the weight on her shoulders slipped away with each bouncing step.

The moment was temporary and the weight would surely return before too long, but as she danced inside the living room, Heather embraced the momentary respite.

Hours from Brindleton Bay, Lilith answered the front door on a sunny afternoon in Britechester.

"I didn't expect you to make a house call," she said. "Felix is at work this afternoon."

Agent Cali Skye smiled, pulling something from her pocket and stepping inside. "It's safer to do this in person," she said. "You and Felix were right to call me about this phone. Our agency did have the tech to get inside and your phone's been fully charged."

Lilith grinned excitedly. "We can finally get that email address."

"You won't find much else, unfortunately. Looks like she disconnected the phone from her storage cloud when she realized it was lost."

"Did your agency find anything about her using the email address?"

"All we know is the email doesn't exist yet. Hasn't been registered. You might be able to reach her in the future if you send her a note, but even if she gets it, I doubt she'll be happy to write back after evading you in the 1920s. I resisted trying to reach out in case it tipped her off before you and Emit Relevart could investigate her."

Lilith's twin, Angela, joined them with a friendly smile. "You must be Agent Skye. Felix said Captain Gordon recommended your expertise."

"I'm happy to help. Since my conversation with your friend Ash Landgraab a few months ago, I've been wondering how this whole time travel saga has been going."

"It'd be going a lot less well without your help. Thank you, Agent Skye."

The rapport between Lilith and Cali was instant - maybe Cali was a little smitten with the alternative redhead - but podcaster Lilith was especially interested in the secrets of Agent Skye's mysterious employer. Cali blushed.

"I can't say much," she admitted. "It's been a good career, but I'm close to retirement, anyway."

"I could honestly listen to stories about your past mysteries all night," Lilith gushed.

"Why don't you? Your bachelorette party's looking a little small, Lil. Why doesn't Cali join us tonight? We're just going over to Pepper Pub for drinking and dancing!"

The women's eyes lit up, and Cali smiled. "A night out sounds fun!"

With that, Lilith had made a new friend, and Angela texted the bartender to add another reservation to their table. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: Lilith and Cali really did become instant friends, so I invited her to Lilith's bachelorette party (next episode!) because loner Lilith has very few friends.

BONUS NOT-SO-ASMR: Lavender practicing violin with rain sounds (and then a chick hatches off-screen, hence the sound effects)! I love her focused face while she practices.

[ginax0916]

✮‧₊˚✩ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 ✩‧₊˚✮

Little Sister (8yrs old) x triplets

Genre - Sorta Angst & Fluff

Synopsis - When the triplets little sister has been staying with them for a month but she suddenly feels home sick but also guilty.

⋆˚✿˖°

Matt pov:

Our little sister y/n has been staying with us for a month since our parents wanted to go on vacation. We don’t mind it at all, it’s been pretty fun lately. It just gets hard when we have to film videos or go to meetings that she can’t be in.

“Y/n you ready to go?” Chris called out.

“Yes I’m so excited” She yelled as she ran down the hallway jumping into Chris’s arms.

He laughed and carried out to the car where Nick already was.

“Took y’all long enough” He grumpily said looking at me.

“Hey don’t look at me! It’s y/n who took so long” I lifted my hands in defense.

“Matt! No I didn’t I was very quick!” She protested slurring her words a little as she talked.

“Yes you did sis don’t listen to them” Chris took her side as her buckled her into her car seat and kissed her cheek.

It’s clear that Chris has a favorite sibling.

LS Pov:

My brothers were taking me to Canes for lunch. It’s not much, but to me it’s the best food in the world. A lot of my friends seem to not like it but I don’t understand how! It’s too good.

I remember how mom would take me to this other restaurant in Boston that also had chicken tenders and we would order a big plate and share. I miss her.

Or when dad would take me to the dinner back in town to eat waffles for breakfast every Saturday. I miss him too.

But I’m with my brothers I shouldn’t be missing my parents right?

“Ok we’re here!” Matt yells.

I’m only 8 which means I still have to sit in a car seat. It’s so stupid I’m sure I could be a big girl and seat on the actual seat. I can’t even get out of the car without the help of my brothers because for some reason I can’t get the seatbelt to unlock.

“You exited?” Matt says as he helps me out of the car.

“Yes very” I reply as I take his hand.

“Awwww look how cute they look! She looks so small compared to Matt!” I hear Nick say behind us and a camera click.

We get a table and we order our food. But as we wait a woman that I could’ve sworn was mom walked in.

“Is that mommy?” I ask my brothers. They all turn their head to look at the woman.

“No y/n it’s not. Moms in Hawaii with dad remember?” Nick laughs.

“Oh yea sorry” I say now embarrassed.

“Hey it’s ok I thought it was her too at first” Matt comforts me. I smile at him and rest my head on his arm since he was sat next to me.

I start to feel sleepy since I haven’t taken my daily nap yet. I do everything to keep my eyes open but nothing works. They fall shut and I start to loose consciousness.

“Hey baby wake foods here” Matt rubs my back waking me up.

“Yay” I say in a tired voice as I sit up from Matt. My hair all messed up and my eyes still closed.

“Good nap?” They all laugh and I do too.

As we eat our food I see a little girl walk in with her mom. They’re holding hands and they’re laughing together. She’s holding a shopping bag so it looks like they went to the mall together. It reminds me of me and mom. Is it bad that I really miss her? I shouldn’t miss her I’m with my brothers that I only see once in a while since they live in L.A.

“You ok?” Chris asks.

“Mhm” I nod.

We were just waiting on the check when I see a man walk in. He walks over to the table where the girl and her mom are. He’s the dad. They all sit together and the girl is laughing with her dad and the mom seems to be taking pictures of them. I miss my dad too. I miss being home and going out to eat with my parents. I feel so guilty about missing home because my brothers are doing so much to take care of me. I shouldn’t feel this way.

I feel tears well up in my eyes but I quickly blink them away before my brothers realize.

“Can we go now?” I quietly ask.

“Uh yea come on” Matt says confused at my sudden change of emotion.

As we walk out I feel two pairs of arms launch me up in the air. I start giggling and screeching like crazy and I’m thrown in the air and back down.

“You want ice cream?” Chris says as he holds me instead of launching me.

“No not really” I reply as I rest my head in the crook of his neck.

“What you always want ice cream” He says stunned.

“I’m full I don’t really want any” I lie. Truth is I do want ice cream I just don’t wanna see more families there that will remind me of home.

“Ok so what ice cream place do we go to?” Nick asks looking at Chris who’s carrying me.

“Uhh she said she doesn’t want ice cream so just go back home I guess” Chris replies.

“What? But y/n you always want ice cream” Matt questions.

“That’s what I said” Chris chuckles.

“I just don’t want it ok!” I say with a ruder tone.

“Ok ok Sorry we’ll go back home” Matt replies looking at Chris and Nick confused.

Once we get home I run into the room where I have been staying and jump onto the bed quickly getting a hold of the stuffed animal my parents gave me. It’s a little frog which is my favorite animal. My dad had sprayed his cologne on it so it would smell like him. And my mom had put one of her bracelets as a necklace on it. So I just laid there on my bed hugging my little frog while looking at a picture of my parents and I. Tears threatened to spill out of my eyes. I miss home.

Nick pov:

I have been editing videos since we got back from lunch. I usually hear y/n laughing or screaming with either Matt or Chris as they play a game or watch a movie. But today it was silent. More silent than it’s ever been. I also don’t hear her little footsteps running around the house which is odd. She had started to act weird after the comment she made about the woman at Canes. And she didn’t want ice cream, which she always wants. I start going downstairs to ask Matt and Chris about it. I see them both sitting on the couch watching Sam and Colby on the t.v.

“Fuck you scared me” Chris yells.

“That’s what you get for watching paranormal videos at 9 pm dumbass” I laugh.

“Ok but on serious note have you guys noticed how down y/n looks today?” I ask them while sitting down at the end of the couch.

“I did yea she seemed upset after lunch” Matt adds on.

“She hasn’t come out of her room since we got back from lunch” Chris comments.

“I think we need to go check on her c’mon” I say standing up heading to her room.

Chris Pov:

I open the door to her room to find y/n asleep hugging her frog stuffed animal with one hand, and hugging a picture with her, mom and dad on it.

“Oh baby” I hear Matt say as he sits next to her on the bed. Nick and I following after him.

“Hmm?” Y/n hums as she starts to wake up.

“You ok?” I ask.

“You guys promise you won’t get mad at me for it?” Y/n sniffles as her eyes start to get glossy.

“We promise” Nick says.

“I- I just really miss mommy and daddy” She starts to cry. Matt quickly wraps his arms around her.

“Hey hey it’s ok” Matt quietly whispers to her as her soft cries are muffled by his sweatshirt.

“Why would we ever get mad at you for missing mom and dad?” I ask her as I pick her up her tiny hand and she wraps her small fingers around mine.

“Because I feel guilty that I really miss home when I’m with you guys” Y/n softly says as she snuggles into me.

“Oh sweetheart you don’t have to feel guilty. It’s ok to miss home. You’re still a kid and you’ve never been away from mom and dad for so long. We’re not mad at all cuz we feel like that sometimes too” Matt says while running his fingers through her hair, something that always calms her down since she was a baby.

“So you’re not mad?” Y/n asks.

“Of course we not y/n. We can FaceTime them together later” Nick chuckles and joins the hug.

“We love you always” I say and kiss her forehead.

“I love you always too” Y/n giggles.

✫・ 。.・゜✭・.・

Opinions on this??

[vanilladove]

𐙚⋆.⋆♡ dollhouse

spooktober 2024 masterlist

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 pairing: yandere!ayatsuji yukito x fem!reader

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 content warnings: kidnapping, dollification, stockholm syndrome, a tiny bit suggestive

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 summary: an intriguing customer with an obsession for dolls visits your family's antique shop and is captivated by you, but little do you know what he has in store for you...

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚 word count: 2.5k

The door to the basement clicked open, signaling that he was back home.

Ayatsuji Yukito. The man who had kidnapped you randomly and gotten away with it, because he could.

You still remembered meeting him at your parents' antiques shop, the smell of smoke wafting past you. The way his gold orbs cut into your soul, and the following shudder your body let out—looking back now, it must've been a sign, but you ignored it. How could you not, though, with how beautiful the man behind you was? When you turned around, you took in his appearance.

His messy blonde waves and his dressed-up attire—donning a white button-up, gray sweater vest, and a maroon tie tucked underneath. When he pushed up his yellow-tinted sunglasses, his eyes finally met yours. Giving you a calculated look up-and-down, he smiled like he was pleased about something.

Remembering your employee duties, you cleared your throat, "H-Hi, can I help you with anything, sir?"

He looked around suddenly, checking out all of the windows like he was making sure no one was following him. "Ah, yes, actually—" he looked back again, trying to flash you another grin like he was trying not to be suspicious, "Do you have any dolls here?"

Your eyes widened in delight; no one ever came for those, "Dolls? Yes, we have some in the back. Follow me." You motioned for the man to go down the aisles with you, but you didn't know Ayatsuji was observing you, too.

He admired your loose braid, fastened by a red gingham bow. The puffy white dress and brown leather mary janes you wore, matching the aesthetic of the store. Cute. The detective thought, wondering if you liked wearing frilly skirts and laced high heels. You'd look pretty like that, you already had such lovely doe eyes.

"Here they are, sir."

"Ayatsuji. My name's Ayatsuji, darling." He shook his head, "I'm not that old yet." You giggled from that, the angelic sound gracing his ears as you blushed from slight embarrassment. You were oblivious to the way your presence captivated him.

Your ruby-tinted lips turned upwards, "These are the dolls, Ayatsuji," you paused, noticing how he admired the ball-jointed dolls on the rack, and explained the assortment to him. His gaze wandered from the dolls to you and back and forth, and he attentively listened until you were done speaking. "Are you buying them for anyone special? A girlfriend or a younger sis—"

His golden eyes cut into you again, but not before a smirk appeared, "No, they're for me. I collect dolls."

You curiously brought a finger to your lips—he was definitiely an interesting man. "Collect dolls, huh? Most customers avoid this rack because they think they're haunted or too creepy." You turned to the side to smile again, recalling the pranks you used to play on your cousins who were scared of dolls.

Ayatsuji sighed, a coy smile still on his face, "Creepy? I don't think so. I actually find them quite enchanting. Dolls are far more intriguing than people. You never grow sick of them." You were surprised to see his face so close to yours, goosebumps crawling up your arms. He looked even better up close, and you were sure the rose coming back on your cheeks didn't hide anything.

You internally scolded yourself for being so attracted to a random customer, but you couldn't help it. Your parents had moved far away from your hometown to open an antique store closer to the city, so you didn't know anyone here. Since you already finished school and felt obligated to help your parents run their shop, you never had time to meet people. Customers were your main form of outside interaction, and hot men never came in.

You're staring at him too much. Look away. Your mind screamed at you, and you abided, coughing awkwardly. You knew it was unethical to fall in love with the first attractive man you could talk to, "I see, um, well, let me know if you have any questions. I'll be by the register—"

Ayatsuji pulled you closer, forcing your uncertainty-filled eyes to look into his again, "Wait, I have a question for you." Time stopped as he pleaded softly. You tapped his arm again, signaling that you weren't leaving. He stared intensely at the dolls again, squininting his eyes as he slowly let go of your shoulders, looking you up and down again.

"These dolls...are there any that look like you?"

You stepped away, cheeks heating up, "Wha-What?" You were startled by the way he so casually asked you that, "O-Oh, you mean any with my style of clothes?" You frantically turned back, grabbing a doll with braided hair and a white puffy dress and trying to shove it into Ayatsuji's hands, but he stopped your motions halfway.

He smirked amusedly at you, entertained by your flustered reaction, "No, darling, I mean any that look like you. With your same complexion, your pretty doe eyes, and beauty."

He spoke like a poet.

"You think I'm beautiful?" You started, not used to the abrupt compliment. "Wait, Ayatsuji, are you flirting with me?" You looked up to see the cheeky man laugh, a cocky grin still present. He nodded again, mumbling a soft mmhmm before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your pearl-adorned ears. You would be fun to dress up.

You opened your mouth, but you were cut off by the bell from the entrance ringing. "Ayatsuji! What the hell do you think you're doing here?! How did you even get past the sniper team?" An angry green-haired women in a suit stormed past the aisles towards you too, making Ayatsuji click his tongue and sigh in annoyance.

"Oh, Tsujimura, as always, you have the worst timing." He turned back to you, softening his facial expression, "Apologies our time has been cut short, darling, I would've loved to chat more with you. Can I—"

A black-gloved hand seized Ayatsuji's shirt collar and shook him aggressively, "Hello! Are you even listening to me?! I'm taking you back now!" He only swatted her hand away dismissively, making her even more mad.

His warm glance turned cold as he faced her, "I heard you the first time, alright?" He pointed to the doll in your hands, "Can I get that delivered to me?"

You were confused by the scene in front of you, but you shook your head, "No, unfortunately we're in-store only." Tsujimura fumed, about to take her wrath out on you next. You swore you could see steam coming out of her ears.

Side-eyeing her, Ayatsuji pulled you into an embrace, a sugary coffee scent filling your nose. He leaned down, whispering in your ear, "No worries, I'll come back for you, my precious doll." You froze, not expecting a hug and unsure if he was talking to you or the inanimate figure.

You felt chilly as his warm body left yours and he took his leave, waving goodbye as he was dragged out left with Tsujimura. What a strange encounter. You shoved the doll under the register and grabbed a cardigan to wrap around yourself, wondering when you'd see him again.

It wasn't until a week later, until you were closing the shop and heard the front door ring again, that you saw Ayatsuji again. Except he looked different. He was wearing a black turtleneck, black belt, and black trousers and shoes. Like he was trying to blend in with the night. It was dark since you'd dimmed most of the bright display lights. His gold eyes were all you could see, but there was a different glint to them.

"A-Ayatsuji! Y-You're back?!" You were taken aback, glad to see him but also a bit cold for some reason. He walked towards you, his boots clacking against the hardwood floor. You ran to meet him, smiling like he was your long-lost lover, and hugged him, wanting to return his gesture from before. His warm breath fanned the shell of your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Hah, I'm glad you missed me too, darling." He stroked your hair, taming the unkept strands, "Can I take the pretty doll home with me now?" Your brows furrowed. He was talking strangely again, but you pulled away to nod and crouch to get the doll from a week ago. Ayatsuji took out a smoking pipe from his pocket, taking a long hit of it before blowing it by your face. You held the doll out, trying to give the figure to him while waving your hand and coughing from the smoke which he wouldn't stop blowing in your direction. You already felt a bit dizzy, and the last thing you remembered was his smirking face before the world turned black.

You were in a cold room full of dolls. It was adorned with old paintings and a Victorian-style bed, but you couldn't shake the feeling of the glass eyes boring into your shivering body—tied to the bed with some silky lace. You tried resisting against it, but it wouldn't budge.

A mocking laugh sent a familiar shiver down your spine, coming directly in front of you. Seated in a throne-like chair in front of you was Ayatsuji, your once charming yet unsettling customer. "Seriously, doll, you really need to stop with these futile escape attempts of yours."

Setting his hat and coat on the arm of the chair, he slowly made his way onto the bed beside you, suddenly turning soft as he caressed your cheek. You hated to admit it, but his warm touch was too easy to relish in and lean into, and it had slowly become the only source of comfort in your bone-chilling enclosure. He smiled in response, "At least try to appreciate me making it pretty and cute for you."

You mumbled a quiet 'thanks' which seemed to satisfy him. He excitedly untied your lace ropes like they were nothing and pulled you into his arms, and you reciprocated his gesture a bit too eagerly.

"I missed you, Ayatsuji. Please don't leave me in here with these dolls all the time." You whimpered, burying your face in your captor's chest, inhaling his coffee-smoke scent. He only continued to stroke your hair, kissing you gently.

"Don't say that, darling—I got all these friends for you since I knew how lonely you were before." The helpless look in your pleading eyes and your needy little pouts always pulled at Ayatsuji's cold heart--he couldn't resist himself from spoiling his precious doll.

You shook your head, "It's not the same...they don't talk to me, and it's so...cold here." Of course, you wouldn't mention the short dress and thin stockings on your body—Ayatsuji took care in picking out different dolly outfits and playing dress-up with you.

He tilted his head innocently, "You're cold? Ah, maybe I should gift you a puffy coat and leg warmers? So you look like one of those pretty slavic dolls?" He cupped your face excitedly with his big hands, scanning your figure up and down with a piercing gaze, "Yeah, you'd look nice like that."

You nodded frantically—anything to cover your exposed skin, making Ayatsuji giggle. "Doll...you know your clothes aren't cheap, right? Especially because I get them tailored to your body..." Your heart started beating. Fast. Ayatsuji always did this--offered something he somehow knew you were in need of in exchange for some sort of affectionate favor. It was all a plot to make you slowly become more dependent on him. And it always worked.

You placed your hands on his chest, getting ready to plead for something nice, "W-What do you want this time? A kiss? Homemade dinner?" You blushed, remembering the times you'd gotten more intimate, "Or se—"

He placed a finger to your lips, "You missed me today, so how about just a sweet little kiss?" He flashed you a caring smile while he leaned back against the head of the bed and patted his lap.

You exhaled shakily, becoming a bit too conscious of what you were wearing. You slowly made your way onto Ayatsuji's lap and pushed his bangs away gently. You told yourself that these acts of affection were just performances, but you started to question how much of it was an act and how much was through your own will. You certainly couldn't stop yourself from shivering when his hands teased your thighs, or the shaky breaths that left as he started drawing circles on your cold skin.

Bringing your face closer to his, you whispered, "I love you, Ayatsuji. Thank you for taking care of me." You dipped down and caught his lips with yours, kissing him passionately as his hands made their way up to wrap around your waist. Your mind was screaming at you not to indulge your kidnapper any further and to pull away, but his touch felt too nice.

You went further, loosening his collar and kissing down his neck. Ayatsuji groaned, pressing you down further against his lap. He felt so warm. "A-Ah, doll, you're so needy today." He pulled you away to gaze at your slightly glassy eyes, which were focused on him only. He started fiddling with the hem of your frilly dress, starting to place light kisses on your collarbone.

You felt cold again suddenly, so you looked up. A bony doll with black eyes was glaring at you shamefully, like it was disappointed in how easily your heart caved in to your captor.

Feeling your body still, Ayatsuji stopped and looked up to see your gaze wandering to the sides of the room where his other dolls were. "Doll—"

"Ayatsuji, how is my family?" You gripped his shoulders and looked back at him, but his face seemed more stoic now. "Are they...still looking for me?" You yelped as you felt his fingers dig into your hips.

"Darling, you're not supposed to worry about them anymore." He sighed dejectedly. Your eyes widened again when he squished your cheeks and pulled your face back down. "Dolls should just look pretty and give all their attention to their owners, right? You know that, don't you, love?" He shook your face softly as tears threatened to spill and the warmth left your body.

"Awww, don't cry and ruin your makeup, doll. Don't you still want that coat?" He pulled you down on his lap again and stroked your hair while wiping the drops forming by your eyes, careful not to smudge your eye makeup. He kissed near your ear before whispering into it, "Just keep kissing me, okay? You're so close."

You felt broken, but you couldn't disobey him. He was the only one looking after you now, and you knew you couldn't escape him. Shaking slightly, you placed your lips back on his, holding onto him for dear life. He exhaled blissfully again, happy you were back to being compliant.

"Like that, doll. I love you so much, you know? Just stay with me and don't think about anything else."