#HE WOULD HAVE THOSE 3 DOTS MOVING JUST

[buckets-and-trees]

Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.

However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys 😏

CHOCOLATE

Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.

Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.

Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You had known the exact moment your fiancé – mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew – got the notification of your purchase.

James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadn’t used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.

"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.

You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."

"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."

"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."

There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you see if you can shock me with a purchase?”

“Challenge accepted. What do I get?”

He chuckled. “You already know I’ll give you the world.”

Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.

“You’re back Saturday afternoon?” you confirmed.

“Yes,” he growled. “There’s a round of golf I can’t seem to move or negotiate.”

You sighed softly. “It’s only three more days.”

“I like that you miss me.”

You huffed but couldn’t deny it.

“I’m missing you, too,” he said.

“James…” you breathed.

“Did you get the gift I sent?”

“I did.” A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.

“I was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.

Or at least tease him.

The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.

The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.

JAMES: You have my interest piqued.

You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.

YOU: Thought maybe I’d see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.

Three dots appeared straight away, and then

JAMES: Forget photos, I’ll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.

Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.

YOU: I’ll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if I’m asleep?

Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.

JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.

At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.

But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.

Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.

JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.

Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.

Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence.

A text alert broke your reverie.

JAMES: Five minutes.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.

The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Bucky’s footsteps approached.

The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?

"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."

You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."

He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.

You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."

His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here until much, much later,” you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. “The flights I saw had landings after midnight.”

He snorted. “My private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone else’s.”

“Oh,” was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.

"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."

You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.

"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."

You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.

He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.

You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.

Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.

"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."

He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "Please…"

He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."

His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.

"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."

You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.

Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.

"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.

He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.

"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."

His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.

"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.

He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"

In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.

With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.

Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.

You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.

"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."

Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."

With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.

His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.

"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.

You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.

You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.

"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."

You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."

With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."

He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Look,” he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.

You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. “Need you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.”

You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.

“When I breed you.”

You gasped.

He groaned and curled his body down over your back.

Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.

“Mmm, you like that,” he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. “Want to be bred,” he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. “Not as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,” another thrust, “until you’re growing with my child,” another thrust, “no question who you belong to,” thrust, “that you’re claimed,” thrust, “that you’re mine.”

You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.

He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. “What’s going on in your beautiful head?”

You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.

He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.

“Talk to me,” he said, and you weren’t sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.

You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, “You knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.”

He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.

“So, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“I’m nowhere near ready to think about children.”

He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “We have as much time to think about that as you want.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasn’t merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had.  

“I look forward to children with you one day, but I’m in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,” he continued, “I didn’t think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.”

"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."

Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."

Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.

You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."

His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.

You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."

"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.

Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.

He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didn’t hold back.

"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."

You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"

You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.

Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."

Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.

You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.

"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."

“No,” he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. “I won’t let you fucking miss this.”

It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancé who you’d given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.

He wanted this.

He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."

His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.

"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."

As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.

"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.

You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.

"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."

He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, I’ll always give you what you need."

His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.

Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.

"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."

You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.

After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."

You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.

He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didn’t you?”

“Oh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?”

“Yes, can I have it, please?” you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.

He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."

You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.

"Open," Bucky murmured.

Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.

The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.

"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"

He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."

Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."

He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancée?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."

He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.

As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.

The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.

As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."

You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."

"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.

You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."

"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.

As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more in the DEVOUR collection...

Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!

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[chuluoyi]

first ultrasound with gojo (love entries) headcanons?❤️

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 12:55 P.M 」

*sigh* why am i so weak to domestic requests... this is just a little thing i wrote in one sitting while stalling my nanami fic (and after coming back from the company retreat!) sobs, i'm going back to it i promise!! :')) this loosely takes place after daddy-to-be <3

a part of gojo's love entries

“now let us see…”

you were lying on the examination table as the ultrasound gel made contact with your still flat abdomen. the sheer coldness and the way the probe pressed hard on your skin made you wince a bit, until that discomfort was eased by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn your head towards the source.

your husband, gojo satoru, offered you a smile so warm it made everything else fade into the background. beyond his sunglasses was the way he always fondly looked at you, as if he was silently assuring you that he would be by your side every step of this journey.

you couldn't help but smile back at him.

“ah, here’s the baby,” your doctor gestured at the monochrome screen with a grin. “around five weeks now. it’s the size of a seed.”

a seed? your gaze fixed on the screen with a sense of wonder. honestly you couldn’t really pinpoint where your baby was, until you saw one dot that the doctor zoomed in.

and there it was—the tiny beginning of life. the product of you and your husband’s love, growing steadily inside you.

suddenly it felt so real that you were carrying a new life. your heart overflowed with warmth, swelling with emotion, and you struggled to hold back tears as your gaze shifted between the screen and satoru, who offered you a comforting pat on the head.

“hush,” he whispered softly, seemingly moved too after looking at the living testament of his baby on the screen. “don’t cry now, hmm?”

after seeing the sonogram and had it printed, both of you sat before the doctor as she instructed you to take things easy from now on, and through it all, satoru held your hand firmly in his, attentively listening to everything the doctor mentioned and even proactively asking questions in return.

“doc, she gets dizzy and nauseous easily, can you prescribe her something to make it bearable?”

“i can certainly prescribe some anti-sickness medication, but i highly recommend you to have plenty of rests and eat healthy food too to reduce morning sickness—”

“hmm, and can you recommend anything to improve sleep? she can have trouble sleeping too…”

honestly it touched you to see satoru picked up on these little things about you despite being away so often. only now did you realize that he had always been watching over you, without fail.

back at home, he sat you down on your bed, back to being a carefree clown who would draw laughs out of you.

“now, little mom,” he began, his lips already turning up into a grin as he took your hands in his, kneeling before you. “you need to listen to me very closely, okay?”

you snorted. “don't address me like that!”

“uh-oh, no squirming,” satoru warned playfully, pinching your cheeks, and you swatted his hand, holding back giggles.

oh my. just what a blissfully happy couple you were.

“first thing first, now you are to have lots of breaks and rest,” he declared, amusement melted a bit from his tone. “the doctor said so. it'll help with your nausea too. if you feel the slightest bit unwell, you have to go back and rest.”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, yeah...”

“and no staying up late too,” he added, fixing his clear eyes on yours. “especially not for waiting for me to be home.”

that got you to clamp up. so he noticed it too, the way you would always wait for him, even at the cost of not sleeping at all. satoru never really said anything all this time, but now you knew, he was indeed worried.

once again, your chest burst with love and warmth. but still...

“can you promise me that?” satoru asked you gently, his smile still in place, but you knew the underlying command behind those words. “i'm coming back. always. i have everything i want here, with you. there's no way i'm not coming back.”

you hung onto his every word, and much like spellbound, you let go of everything and nodded.

“and now baby...”

he then shifted his focus to your tummy, gently brushing his fingers across it, and the gesture stirred something inside you, making you throb with emotion.

“you only have one job. grow big and healthy, and you can even bother mama sometimes! just don't make her too sick or i'll worry...”

somehow your vision blurred with tears, hearing how unusually earnest he was. “satoru, you're so silly.”

but as always, he would pick this moment to flip the switch, reverting back to his usual teasing.

“hmm, what's that? you're getting soft now, aren't you, mommy~?”

“...why do you have to sound like that? you're making it lewd on purpose!”

in this little world of love of yours, it was just you and him, along with the tales of your life together. you had weathered various moments side by side, and now, as you were embarking on another significant chapter with him, you were certain that everything would be alright.

satoru pulled you to the bed and smothered your head with kisses, trapping you between his strong arms. “hmm, comfy now?”

“mmm, yeah. keep cuddling me...”

and from his side, he was sure, that right now, everything had never been and felt so right than ever before—with the love of his life and future in his arms.

[loonylupinblack3]

Heyy! I absolutely adore your work and I was wondering if I could make a request? A Logan x reader fic where they’re out at a bar and the reader is on the shy side, so when Logan steps aside and a sleazy man tries to get handsy with her, she doesn’t really know what to do. Logan steps in though, protective and fuming. Hope this makes sense!

If not, no worries at all and I hope you have a wonderful day, love!! 💗💗

My Hero

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: sleazy man being sleazy, the blatant ignorance of consent, small amount of violence, swearing

Word count: 2k

A/N: hope you enjoy anon <3

You hated big social events. They were your worst nightmare. You hated the amount of people everywhere and the talking and the strangers and all of it. You much preferred one on one, with people you knew and trusted. 

Social events just made you uncomfortable. You couldn’t act like other people could. You weren’t easy to talk to or excited to meet strangers. You were awkward and your words came out stilted. You needed a script to follow when speaking to people, and any straying from that script left you vulnerable, confused and scared.

So safe to say these social outings the X men insisted on having weren’t your thing. They claimed it would improve team relationships by completing fun activities together, yet everyone had decided getting drunk at a club was the best fun activity.

You were strongly opposed but it was mandatory, so with incredible reluctance you let your boyfriend drag you to the club, promising to spend the whole night with you and not have a single drink.

Knowing Logan, that was a big promise, and also knowing him as your boyfriend, you knew he’d keep his word. He knew how uncomfortable you got in big groups of people, and he enjoyed the idea of helping you, of being the reason you could bear it.

When you arrived a feeling of dread washed over you, thudding music coming from the warehouse-looking building, and fractures of bright light escaping through the cracks of the door. Logan put his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and you revelled in the safety you felt from it, sticking close as you entered the club.

Loud noise immediately assaulted your senses, and you scrunched up your face as your ears screamed in protest. The music was blaring through speakers dotted all over the room, blasting you to near deafness.

You moved closer to Logan, the man tightening his grip on you. “You alright?”

His voice, barely heard over the loud music, was still a huge relief to you, your beating heart easing slightly. You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m not dying.”

He laughed at your words, his body shaking in the process. You smiled, as you always did whenever you made Logan smile or laugh, a small sense of pride flaring inside you. The good feeling helped you push forward, finding a seat at the bar. Logan sat right next to you as he said he would, and when the bartender inquired what drinks you both wanted he settled for soft drinks for both of you.

You smiled into your hands, feeling slightly giddy that he kept his word even though you knew he was going to. It was something about him deciding not to drink on one of his only nights out because it would better comfort you that made you so delighted.

Logan gently pried your hands away from your face with a smirk. “If I’m not drinking tonight you may as well let me reap the rewards for it. I wanna see that pretty smile of yours.”

Of course those words only made your smile widened, heat rushing to your cheeks at the compliment, and Logan stared with unwavering focus, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“You’re insufferable,” you mumbled, looking away.

Logan chuckled, hands snaking to your waist. “You know you love me.”

Unable to resist you turned to look at him, eyes gazing at his features, memorising every blemish on his skin. “Yeah, I do.”

Logan grinned widely at your confession, though you’ve said those words many times before. He just seemed to get a sense of satisfaction every time you spoke them, a reminder that you really did love him, and that you were his.

The sounds of commotion took your attention away, and you heard Scott’s raised voice but couldn’t spot him through the crowd, nor decipher what he was saying. Logan’s brows creased in concern and he looked like he wanted to go check it out, but loyalty to you and his promise to stay by your side stilled his restless body.

“Go,” you urged him, knowing he wanted to check up on his friend. “I’ll be fine here for a few minutes.”

He hesitated still, loyalty to two different people warring inside him. At your sincere expression, however, he leaned in close, pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering a promise of returning soon before he disappeared into the crowd.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, turning back to the bar and staring at your brightly coloured fizzy drink, though you didn’t take a sip. You hoped Logan would be back soon, for though all your talk of being able to handle yourself you still felt vulnerable and alone, even in a room packed full of people.

“All alone there Missy?”

Your head whipped to the side to the source of the question, finding a man much older than you leaning on the bar, eyeing you appreciatively. 

You shifted about nervously, swallowing thickly. You hated talking to strangers. “Um, no, I have a few friends here.”

The man raised his eyebrows, making a show of looking around the bar before zeroing back on you. “So then where are they?”

You felt uncomfortable that he was still talking to you and pathetically shrugged your shoulders. “They said they’d be back soon.”

The man nodded, humming slightly before sidling closer to you. As you were seated you couldn’t very well move away, but you longed to when you smelt the alcoholic tang on the man’s breath.

“The name’s Hiram,” he spoke, using a hand to ruffle his hair slightly.

You thought he looked ridiculous.

“Y/n,” you murmured quietly instead, because you weren’t sure what else to say.

The man, Hiram, seemed to take that as an invitation to move closer, his breath in your face and hand on your shoulder. You tried to lightly shake it off but he had a vice grip, fingers uncomfortably digging into your skin.

“Why don’t we leave this place Y/n?” he offered, hand trailing to your lower back.

You were extremely uncomfortable as of this moment and was grasping for something to say to make the man leave you alone.

“Please let go of me,” was your meek response, feeling both foolish and defenceless.

The man scoffed, hand moving to hold your arm in a tight grip. “Listen Y/n, let’s just have some fun ‘kay? You don’t need to make it a big deal.”

You ignored him, tugging your arm out of his hand and sliding off the stool, intending to search for Logan. The man was fast though, his slimy arm wrapping around your waist and jerking you towards him. 

An icky, sickly feeling overtook you, the overwhelming sense of fear flooding your senses. You didn’t want this grimy man’s hands on you and certainly didn’t want his revolting breath in your face. You wanted to be home curled up on your bed with a book in hand, your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you and his chin resting gently on your head as he read over your shoulder.

This was not what you wanted, but you’d told him that and he’d ignored it so you didn’t know what you were supposed to do now.

“Please, leave me alone-” you pleaded, desperately trying to tug yourself away from him.

He groaned like you were the one being difficult, tightening his grip on your waist to the point it was painful. “It won’t even be for that long-”

“She said leave her alone.”

Relief bloomed in your chest, even with the dirty man’s fingers still digging into your flesh. Hiram turned to look over his shoulder, eyes widened slightly at the sight of Logan towering over him, a white fury in his eyes.

He didn’t bow out immediately, however, which took guts, because a lesser man would have taken one glance at the fuming look on Logan’s face and bolted.

“C’mon man, just having some fun,” Hiram laughed, hand sliding lower down your waist.

Logan noted the movement, his jaw clicking as he stared at Hiram like he was his next meal. “You get the fuck away from her or I’ll make you.”

The man scoffed, taking a step forward, and then suddenly was on the floor, a cry of pain coming from his lips as he cradled his now broken nose. Logan moved forward, stepping on the man’s fingers as he did so, a sickening crack accompanying the action, before he was in front of you and wrapping you up in his arms.

“M’so sorry Bub,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You shook your head but was grateful he was here, burrowing your head into his chest in an attempt to escape it all. “Can we go home?”

Logan was already leading you to the exit. “Of course. The others’ll understand.”

You were grateful as Logan drove you home, but you couldn’t get the feeling of the man’s grimy hands off you. You felt dirty, tainted, like he’d wiped mud on you and you needed to clean it off. Logan noticed your unease as you entered your shared room, and inquired gently as to what the matter was.

When you confessed your feelings, describing the awful ickiness crawling up your arms, and the phantom touch of the man’s hands imprinted upon your skin, Logan gently took your hand and led you to the bathroom, where he started filling the bathtub full of warm water, adding the strawberry essence you liked so much. He beckoned you to get into the tub and you did gently, taking each piece of clothing off and feeling the man’s hold more deeply, like he was still touching you beneath your clothes. 

It made you want to cry as you sat in the tub, knees to your chest. That was until you felt Logan’s hands, marred from centuries of violence, rub your skin with the softest touch, soap coating his fingers. The realisation that he was washing you, delicately cleaning every spot of your skin with his hands, was too much to bear and the tears started falling, but Logan just kissed them all away as he continued cleaning you.

Bit by bit he cleaned you off, making sure no part of you was untouched, wiping the man away from your body. You felt relief and an undying amount of love and gratitude for the man before you. It was hard to imagine him as the formidable Wolverine, because right now he was caring for you with such gentleness you were putty in his hands.

Fully cleaned off, the man’s hold a distant memory, Logan dried you off and dressed you in one of his shirts, knowing you felt safe with your body swamped in his clothes. He then gently carried you bridal style into your bedroom, holding you with a softness you hadn’t known he possessed.

He tucked you in the sheets, made sure you were the utmost comfortable before sliding in beside you, immediately pulling you to him, your back to his chest, and just holding you. You couldn’t have asked for a better moment, and gratefully melted into his embrace, feeling the safest you had all night.

“I love you Sweatheart,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a kiss to prove his words.

A delightful shiver ran down your spine at the action and you sighed in contentment, moving further into his embrace. Things were now as they should be, the two of you wrapped up in each other as the night slowly crept by. In the morning you’d wake up to your head in the crook of Logan’s neck like it always ended up, your limbs tangled together and breathing in sync.

For now though you let your eyes droop, a smile on your lips as you whispered, “I love you too.”

Logan held you a bit tighter after the words, a desperate feeling of love and awe overcoming him, and gently brushed your hair as you fell asleep, before he eventually followed suit, with you in his arms like you were supposed to be.

[roses-for-rosalyn]

Cowboys

Ellie x reader (for now)

Part 2

summary: A stranger comes to your door- it turns out it's not one of your usual encounters cw: guns, cowboy lingo, fem! reader, cowboy crossdresser Ellie, eventual smut, blood, injuries, your average confusing lesbianism, eventual smut, no use of y/n wc: 3.6k

for those who prefer ao3 <3 gotchu minors DNI (I will steal all you pillowcases)

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK

Nothing could beat the beauty of the sunset in the desert. Purples, blues, oranges, and yellows swirled together to paint a new masterpiece every night. And every night you would sit on your small, wooden porch with a cup of tea and watch as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. Tonight was no exception. 

The sky becomes darker and darker until the moon and the stars come out, bathing the desert in a silver light. You struggle with the stubborn, old front door for a moment before you step into your little ranch house.

A chill runs through you as the temperature outside rapidly declines. You kneel in front of the fireplace and use the little kindling you have for a fire. It was enough to keep you warm for a few hours while you read yourself to sleep. Sometimes you felt lucky that it was a small enough house that the small fire would warm up the whole place. Your bed was just a few paces away from the mantle. 

You stand up and dust off your hands before starting to undress for bed. As you begin to unbutton your bodice a knock sounds from the front door. 

You scramble for your rifle by your bedside and check to make sure it’s loaded. You peek through one of your front windows to catch a glimpse of the mysterious stranger. At this hour and on the edge of town, your visitors weren’t usually friendly. 

It seems a cowboy has paid you a visit this evening. Haven’t seen one of those in a damn long time. A gun is proudly holstered on his hip next to a lasso, and his black large-brimmed hat keeps his face dark enough that you can’t quite make it out. 

He knocks again, louder. You creep up to the front door and slowly open it. Before he can process who opened the door you aim your rifle right at his chest. 

“Hands up.” You demand, your voice is surprisingly steady. 

“Woah there, I just stopped to ask for some directions.” A deep, yet feminine voice replies. It sounds like she was all too sure you weren’t going to be using that weapon on her, she didn’t even bother to move. You cock the gun, trying like hell to keep your expression blank, unphased while your entire body fills with adrenaline. She takes a step back and puts her hands up. Her hat still covers her face in shadow, it’s like confronting a ghost. 

“You should have stopped somewhere else.” You take a step towards her, closing the door behind you while keeping your vision trained on the woman. 

“You’re much different than the other women I’ve run into out here.” She looks up slightly, the moonlight illuminating pink, slightly chapped lips forming a smug smirk. “Where’s your husband, miss?”

“I swear if you don’t get back on your goddamn horse I’ll put a hole right through your chest.” she steps towards you, the muzzle of the gun pokes right under her collarbone. 

She finally looks at you, silver light exposes a sharp, feminine face dotted with freckles darkened by days in the sun. The sight of her face catches you off guard for just enough time, allowing her to grab the barrel of the rifle and pull it right out of your hands. She drops the gun and it clatters loudly to the ground, echoing through the empty desert landscape. She grabs your wrists before you can start fighting back and pins them above your head against the door with one hand. 

“There,” she grunts as you struggle against her grip, she’s surprisingly strong, “now we can have a conversation.” 

“Go to Hell.” You say, seething with rage and frustration because she was able to overpower you so easily. She shakes her head and laughs for a moment, saying something under her breath like all this trouble. 

You were just about to spit in her face when she said, “Where’s the nearest hotel darlin’?” Your eyes widen at the innocent question, slightly embarrassed. This was a first, she really just needed directions. She uses your stunned silence to talk some more, “I’ve been savin’ up so I could have a bed for the night. And I could really really use a bed tonight, miss.” You stop struggling against her grip and she lets go. She still has that stupid smirk on her face. “So if you could point me in the right direction it would be much appreciated.” 

“Head southwest, you’ll hit a trail that will lead you right into town.” You dust off your dress and straighten it out. 

“Much appreciated, darlin’.” She tips her hat and walks off toward her horse. You watch in shock as she mounts her horse and before riding away she says just loud enough, “I’ll be seein’ you.” And with a nod, she was off. 

You slowly bend down to pick up the Winchester, cradling it against your chest as you watch the stranger disappear into the night. As you head inside you wonder if you ever will see that strange woman again, and fall asleep debating whether or not you would want to.

**  **

The next morning you head to the school house. The steady feeling and sound of your horse trotting along the dirt path always forced your mind to wander elsewhere. Right now you couldn’t stop thinking about the woman from last night. The schoolhouse was right in the middle of town, would you see her again? Would she even recognize you? If she did, would she even try to talk to you?

The interaction was a bit embarrassing for you, but to be fair you had your fair share of vile men looking for trouble and hostile groups of Apache knocking on your front door. Your father had taught you how to use his Winchester rifle, the very same rifle you use now, and you mentally thanked him for it every night. You had only used it to kill one man, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and you gave him plenty of warnings. He didn’t believe your threats so now he was buried about 500 feet from the house in an unmarked grave, you were sure no one would miss a man like that. Most of the time the Apache would just come to ask questions about men passing through the area, they never tried to attack you, thankfully, but they would always come at the most ungodly hours and were quite impatient. 

Last night was a first, you had never had a cowboy knock at your door, and then she ended up being a woman. The idea of her was so intriguing and you couldn’t figure out why. For some reason, she shook you more than anyone else had since you lived out here. And you’d seen quite a lot.  

Your thoughts are interrupted as you reach town, the sound of rickety carriages, hooves against the packed dirt road, and the chatter of men in front of the Sheriff’s Office make it hard to focus. 

“Hello there, sunshine!” you hear a male voice call out. You turn towards the voice to see Jesse making his way past you on horseback, lugging today's newspapers to the apothecary. He made the trip from Sante Fe every morning. He was nice enough, you liked talking to him, but not as much as you felt like you should. The ladies at the apothecary, Dina, and Maria, would always encourage you to talk to him. They desperately wanted you to move on from your husband. He was long gone and you knew that, you were even thankful for it, which is why you were nervous to start again. You didn’t want to have to go through anything like that again. 

You wave back and smile, “Hi there, Jesse.” You decide to be polite, “Hear anything good today?” He tightens the reins of his horse and stops right next to you. 

“They struck gold in Elizabethtown, and there’s gonna be a shortage of tobacco ‘round these parts within the week because of a dust storm over in Tennessee.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll have a panic on their hands pretty soon then. I don’t know a man here who can live without their cigars.” You smile and Jesse laughs politely at your attempt at a joke. 

“Alright, don’t want the kids to show up before I do, I'd best be headin’ to the school.” You yearned to leave this awkward conversation through any means possible. Today was not the day for small talk. 

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then, miss.” Your head snaps towards Jesse. You’re suddenly transported to last night and listening to the way the cowboy’s words would drip from her lips, smooth as honey “Miss”. Calm and sure even with a gun pointed right to her heart. 

You quickly snap out of it and nod politely at Jesse as you begin to part ways. You head to the schoolhouse in a hurry, the kids gave you hell if you were late. 

** **

You’re beginning to lock up the schoolhouse when you hear footsteps approaching. “Well hello there, miss.” You recognize the voice all too quickly, you don’t even need to turn around. “Was really hopin’ I’d find you here.” 

As you fish into your pocket for the key you respond, “And how exactly did you find me here?” you turn around and begin to walk past her toward your horse. She follows you. From a brief glance at her, you can see she wears a bandana to cover her face, you could only see her eyes. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I just asked those nice ladies at the apothecary if they knew the women who lived just outside of town, they were more than happy a “nice gentleman” took interest in you. They told me just about everything they knew, your name, some snippets of gossip. I’m sure if I stayed they would’ve told me your life story” You finally turn to face her, your expression unamused. She took her hat off at some point when she was talking to you, her eyes are green, radiant in the unrelenting desert sunlight. You were almost jealous. She wore a dark blue button-down that sat surprisingly flat against her chest and suspenders. She could pass for a man if she wanted to. “So, I take it you don’t have a husband then?” 

“What’s it to you?” you cross your arms, defensively.

“I was just curious, I asked last night, but you weren’t exactly in a talking mood.” You swear you can make out her smirk under the bandana. 

“No, I haven’t had a husband for quite a while. Is that what you came all the way here to ask me?” She lowers her bandana and steps towards you, backing you into your horse. 

“No, I came to ask a favor.” She hesitates for a moment, “No one here can know that I’m, um, well you know..”

“A woman?” pretty easy to piece together after seeing the bandana. 

“Yea,” She backs away from you a little. Seems like someone is embarrassed to ask a favor. “It’s just easier for me to get things this way and it’s lookin’ like I’ll be staying later than I planned so..” 

“Alright, I won’t say anything.” She opens her mouth to begin to thank you, but you weren’t about to let an opportunity like this pass you by. “But, you owe me a favor then.”

Her excited expression disappeared as quickly as it came, if you weren’t looking you could have missed it, “Um, alright, what do ya need?” 

“You know your little visit last night?” You had been cooking this proposition up all day, hoping she would run into you again. 

“Yes.”

“Well, that happens to me about every other day. I don’t want a husband, but I do need a guard dog of some kind.” You didn’t want a man in your home, but you did want the protection of one, this was the perfect opportunity, almost too perfect. 

“A guard dog?” She seems mildly offended by you comparing her to a dog.

“I’m tired of not being able to sleep because of surprise visitors. And I’ll pay you in two square meals a day, tea, and my homemade moonshine.” She does not look amused. “And I won’t tell anyone you’re a lady.”

“I don’t know-”

“I know you’re almost out of money, I’m sure Tommy is bleeding you dry as an outside visitor. I won’t charge you anything.” Something in her loosens, you can see it.

“So do I sleep on your floor?”

“Or outside if you’d like, makes no difference to me. There’s a fire pit out there for ya” You turn around and mount your horse, eager to get home. “We got a deal?” You reach your hand down towards her. She hesitates before shaking it. 

“I’m Ellie by the way.” You nod

“Alright Ellie, I’ll see you at my house then. I trust you’re familiar with the address” She just nods, slightly shocked. You smile and then head off, the comforting sound of hoofbeats clearing the thoughts in your head. On the way home you tend to just listen to the sounds of the desert. After a day of loud, squealing children it was healing. You’re sure you’d go crazy if you lived in town. 

** **

You had just finished making your evening tea when you heard a knock on your door. For the first time in a long time, you don’t go into fight or flight mode. You open the door with a smile, part of you is surprised she even showed up. Your proposition was a little ridiculous, but that truly shows how desperate you are. 

“Hello there stranger.” You are really pushing it with this attitude, you can tell, but something in you likes it when she gets annoyed. 

“Hi.” She takes off her hat and lowers her bandana, something you’ve observed as a habit of hers, one of respect possibly. “So am I sleepin’ with the rattlesnakes or on your floor?” 

“You get bit by a rattlesnake come to me and I’ll suck the venom out myself. Until then you best set up camp before dark darlin’.” You smile at her sweetly. 

“Figured as much.” She smirks and walks away to set up camp.

“Dinner’ll be ready in 20 minutes. I hope ya like stew.” You call out to her. “Oh, and there’s a spring out back if you need any water!” 

** **

The stew finally thickens up to the way you like it, you pour it into two bowls and quickly slurp up your serving. Didn’t taste amazing, but it was food. 

You open your front door to bring Ellie her food and see that she’s already started a fire, she’s sipping from a silver flask just staring at the flames. 

You approach and wordlessly hand her a bowl of stew and a spoon. She looks up at you “You gonna eat?” 

“No, I- uh already ate.” More like inhaled but she didn’t need to know that. You point at her flask. “What’s in there?” 

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t know what’s in here?” She raises her eyebrows.

“I know it’s liquor, Ellie, I’m just askin’ what kind.” Her confused expression drops.

“Whiskey.” She looks at the flask in her hand, then at you. “Want some?” She clearly did not want to offer it to you. But you sit down next to her and reach your hand out for it. 

“Hand it over.” She hands you the flask. The metal was cool to the touch, almost shocking after the desert heat all day. You take a sip and the liquor burns its way down your throat, and your face scrunches a little. You were used to shooting whiskey, but this was particularly terrible, even worse than your moonshine. “Wow, that’s pretty awful.”

Ellie laughs between bites of stew, “You’re stew isn’t the greatest thing I’ve tasted either.”

“Hey!” You lightly punch her shoulder. She giggles even more. “You’re welcome for the food by the way.” You take another swig of whiskey and then hand the flask back to the cowgirl. 

“Thank you,” she takes the flask, “for the meal.” she hands you her empty bowl. “And a place to stay, even if it’s outside.” 

“We’ll see, maybe you’ll earn your way inside.” You take her bowl and turn to head inside. 

“Is that a challenge?” She calls after you. 

“Maybe.” You call back. 

You step inside and immediately undress for bed, the whiskey making your eyes droop closed. You can barely get your buttons undone before you fall into bed, for the first time in a while, not having to worry about dangerous strangers knocking down your door.  

** **

You wake up to a hasty knock coming from the front door. It’s still dark outside. You weren’t supposed to have to deal with this anymore. You grab your rifle and don’t even bother checking who is at the door simply out of annoyance. Would have bit you in the ass later if it was a surprise visitor. You open the door and cock the rifle. To your astonishment, you open the door to Ellie, holding her side. There’s a dark stain forming under her hands, her face is bloody and bruised. And yet she’s got a smug yet pained smile on her face. “This how you’re always gonna greet me?” 

“Jesus Ellie,” you usher her inside quickly. “What happened?” 

“You got some visitors, a group of Apache men.” She sits down in one of your wooden dining room chairs. You rush over to grab the small medical kit you had managed to fashion over the years. “They wanted to see you in particular, when I told them you weren’t accepting visitors they sort of attacked me. It was one versus six” 

“They don’t trust many people.” You undo Ellie’s suspenders and begin unbuttoning her shirt without even thinking. “Most folks round here shoot first and ask questions later, they don’t have any respect or patience for a stubborn cowboy.” You walk over, grab a candle and some matches, and light it so you can see. “Can’t say I blame them. I am sorry though I’d thought they’d see your gun and back off” 

“That is real optimistic of ya.” You remove her right arm from the sleeve of her shirt. She is wearing some sort of binding around her chest- so that’s how she’s managed to pass for a man. 

“Wow, that’s a big word for you.” You smirk at her as you clean your hands with some moonshine. 

“Really? I’m bleedin’ out and you’re making fun of me?” You press gauze to her wound, she hisses through her teeth. 

“Please, you’re not bleeding out. Shouldn’t even need stitches, just some cleaning and dressing.” You look up at her, you’re not quite sure, but even in the dim candlelight, you could swear she was blushing. You wouldn’t dare mention it when she’s already made herself so vulnerable. 

“Now for the hard part.” You take out a small bottle of vinegar. 

“Alright.” Ellie leans back in the chair, ready for the sting of the vinegar. 

“Here.” You take her left hand and place it on your shoulder. “Squeeze if you need to.” She nods and you take that as your cue to begin. You pour the vinegar on the wound and you watch as her abs contract, her hand squeezes your shoulder, pretty hard, but you know she was trying not to hurt you, even in pain. 

You stand up and gently wrap a few layers of gauze around her mid-section, just in case it starts bleeding again during the night. You were so, so close to her, you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. “You always wear that?” 

“Wear what?”

“The-the bandages, round your chest.” She looks down at them like she almost forgot they were there. Suddenly you realize how personal that question must be. “Sorry, I shouldn’t said anything. You don’t have to answer” 

“No, It’s alright. I don’t mind. Yes, I’ve worn this for a while now, easier to get around when you look like a man.” You nod and finish wrapping the gauze around her and pin it in place. You put a bit of vinegar on a piece of gauze and begin cleaning the cuts on her face. “Oh, you don’t need to do that, miss.”

“Please just let me clean off your face. Were you planning on walkin’ around town tomorrow with dried blood on your cheeks?” She opens her mouth to say something but closes it. She’s quiet as you gently clean her face, you can see every freckle, every scar, her eyes shining in the candlelight. It was odd being this close to her. You had never felt comfortable being this physically close to someone. Her warmth almost invited you in, made you want to press your nose to her neck, run your hands across her skin, feeling along all the freckles and scars, memorizing the spot of each one. you wanted to know her in a way you have never wanted to know anybody else.

“Hey,” a gentle voice grounds you back into reality. “I think my face is clean.” She smiles softly. She was right, at some point, you had gotten her face completely clean, you’re not sure how long she let you drag the cloth across her freckled cheeks before she said something. 

“Yeah, sorry.” You back away and put the blood-soaked gauze in the burn pile. “You should sleep in here. Don’t think anyone else will be coming tonight. I’ll go get your bedroll.” Ellie just nods and you go out to grab her things. 

You hurry back and set up her bedroll on the floor right next to your bed. She makes her way to it and sits down on the floor with a thud, careful to not contort her body in a way that could re-open the wound. She collapses onto the wool blankets. When you’re sure she’s settled you place your rifle back next to your bed and fall into your mattress, knowing you’ll be exhausted tomorrow.

lmk what you think! Likes, comments and reblogs always appreciated!

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK

Part 2 >>

[takamiwife]

your first time with keigo p.2

requested by the loveliest @goseru-aizawa !! thank you for the suggestion <3

🔞this post is nsfw. mdni please and thank you <3🔞

no specific tw’s (i don’t think). does include creampie tho if that makes anyone uncomfy

as the two of you continued your eloquently named, wet-dream-scene, it seemed that one of you had reached a breaking point.

“y/n,” keigo pulled away, a desperation you had never seen before in his eyes as he let out a combination of a whimper and a moan, uttering the word “please.”

now, if this had been any other time, you would probably choose to be mean, leaning over him as you teased him, lips brushing against his, asking “please what?”

but seeing as this was a special occasion and it seemed the two of you were far too needy, you knew exactly what he meant. you pulled back, wrestling out of your shirt as he did his own. you reached for the clasps of your bra, but without a word, keigo moved your hands, replacing them with his own as he quickly unhooked it.

“oh, experienced, huh?” you asked, fairly impressed.

“just well researched.” he mumbled out, mouth immediately moving to kiss and bite at the sensitive skin on your tit, tongue flicking over your nipple.

keigo debated all of this for a moment; not that he didn’t want it; god, it was the complete opposite. he felt guilty admitting it, but nearly every night where spent with you when he ended up back home, he couldn’t sleep without pumping his cock to the image of you. however, he had also spent the past week or so doing his best to read, watch, or listen to whatever he could to make it seem like he had a semblance of an idea of what he was doing. but in turn, he wanted to make this special. candles, rose petals, and all. what can he say? he had a vision. he was even going to buy you a pretty nightgown he saw in a store window. but he had to admit, he liked this better. it was natural, and nearly goddamn primal with the way the two of you were attacking each other.

“kei..” you moaned out in a whisper, hands entangling in his thick blonde hair as you ground your hips against him. he moaned against the skin of your chest in response, strong hands gently clawing down your back.

when he came back up to kiss you, you pushed him onto his back (admittedly with a bit of strength) and began to trail down his body with your soft lips, stopping as you got to his pants. you raised your head back up to his own, kissing his cheek.

“keigo,” you said sweetly, “can i…?”

dot. dot. dot.

keigo knew exactly what that ‘dot. dot. dot.’ referred to, and the man shed his pants and boxers like they were on fire. he sucked in air through his teeth as the cool air hit his (now extremely sensitive) cock.

you had to admit, you had a bit of a ‘oh, shit’ moment when you saw it. the man was well endowed to say the least, and you definitely would be stretched full. maybe this is why his work pants were so baggy.

nevertheless, you moved back down, your ass sticking up in the air slightly as you lowered your head to lick from the base to the lip, making sure to look him in the eyes as you did. he immediately threw his head back, hands moving to your hair, tangling in it and holding it like his life depended on it. you placed a kiss on the head, taking an enjoyment as it twitched, noting how badly he needed this. you took the head in your mouth, doing your best to hollow out your cheeks as you took as much as you could (which was a bit hard, unfortunately), using your hand to cover the rest.

“shit, fuck, fuck yes..!” keigo hissed as you began to bob your head, your tongue swirling around the length.

you hummed contently around him, pleased with yourself that he was having this strong of a reaction to you; in fact, it didn’t take long for those three magic words to slip from his lips.

“i- ah- i’m gonna cum!” he bit back his lip desperately, the words coming out in a whimper. you can imagine the look on his face when you suddenly pulled your mouth away; something along the lines of a hurt puppy and shock. “why’d you stop?” he asked, swallowing hard, just having his orgasm ripped from him.

“keigo..” you moved up, your lips tracing his stubbly cheek, moving to his ear. “i promise, i’ll make this all up to you, but for right now, i want you to cum inside of me.”

“inside..?” he asked, nearly choking on his own air. of course he had thought about it. it was one of the main visions of his little.. sessions he had at home thinking of you. bouncing on his cock, gripping at his shoulders, or having you under him, wide, pleading eyes, repeatedly begging him to cum in you like the good girl you were. “..are you sure?”

“‘s alright, i’m on the pill.. as long as you’re okay with it.”

“of course i’m okay with it,” he said a little too enthusiastically, causing a quiet giggle from you. “but i wanna be on top,” keigo moved his hands to your hips. “i want- need to see you when i feel you for the first time. need to see you when i cum in that pretty pussy. please y/n.”

admittedly flustered by his response, you chose to show your approval through actions instead by bringing him into another heated kiss, slowly pulling him on top of you.

“someone’s a little excited” he grinned against your lips.

“you could say that.”

keigo pulled your pajama shorts down, finally leaving you just as bare as he was.

“ffuuuckk..” he groaned out, finally being able to see all of you. “so fucking pretty..” he moaned against your neck, fingers gliding against your slit. “and so wet for me. you’ve needed this, huh?”

“mhm..” you hummed out, already feeling dazed.

“poor, pretty girl..” he ran his fingers along the slickness, thumb circling your already swollen clit. “and such pretty noises.” your little moans and whimpers were music to his ears, and they were only amplified when he dipped two fingers into your cunt, pumping at an agonizingly slow pace at first, curling just where you needed it.

“you.. you seem to know what you’re doing for.. for a virgin..” you managed to get out as he picked up his pace.

“as i said, well researched,” as much as keigo wanted to attack your neck while he finger-fucked you, he loved watching your face and body contort in pleasure even more. your eyes squeezing shut, your back arching, desperate for more, your mouth forming a perfect little ‘o’ shape. you were insatiable, and you were all his. he suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you feeling the same as he did just a few minutes ago, immediately dipping his slick coated fingers into his mouth, groaning as he tasted you. “so fucking good.” he said as he used his wet fingers to coat his cock. “not that i’ll need it, you’re fucking dripping.” he grinned as he climbed on top of you, hands on both sides of your head.

“kei.. are you absolutely sure?”

“y/n..” he pressed his forehead to yours, noses barely touching. “i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. i want this.. i want you.“

“okay.” you replied, voice barely above a whisper. he kept his forehead pressed to yours as he dragged his tip up and down your slick before finally, finally dipping into you. he pulled back, wanting to see your face as he fucked into you for the first time, but have you ever seen a man experiencing good pussy for the first time? inch by inch, you watched his eyes widen and pupils dilate, his wings fluff and flutter as breathless moans formed from his mouth. he was whipped with you already, but now? good luck getting rid of him is all i’ll say.

“fuck, oh my god, fuck, you feel so good..” he groaned as he finally bottomed out in you, hips involuntarily twitching slightly from the overwhelming pleasure. he tested the waters, slowly pulling back out and fucking into you again, immediately mesmerized by the way your tits bounced as he did so. “i’m gonna.. gonna move now, okay?” and as soon as you nodded in permission, he fucked into you again and again and again until he finally found a steady rhythm.

“fuck, i can’t- i need.. need more..” he grunted as he picked your leg up, hiking it onto his shoulder as he desperately tried to fuck into you deeper.

“kei..!” you said, a mix of surprise and pleasure as he nearly hit your cervix, hands moving to grip onto his wrists.

“‘s that feel okay? please say it does, please, please, please tell me it feels good.” he whined out, clearly desperate for your praise.

“f-feels real good, kei..” you whimpered out between moans. “you’re doing so good, so good for me.”

despite you thinking it wasn’t possible, he picked up his speed even more, moving up to kiss and nibble at your calf as he kept his pace.

“gonna.. gonna cum.. fuck, need to cum..” he set your leg down, and just when you thought your leg could get a break, he pushed both of your legs back as far as they could go, fucking you into a mating press.

“keigo..!” you said in more arousal than surprise, feeling the familiar build of an orgasm in your lower stomach.

“gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum..” he muttered as he stared into your eyes with a certain hunger you’ve never seen in them before. “‘m gonna.. gonna cum in you baby, f-fuck, so perfect for me. so so perfect.. i’m gonna fucking fill you up, pretty girl.. my pretty girl.. my perfect, pretty girl.. you’re gonna cum too, aren’t you? i.. fuck, fuck, i can feel it. please cum for me, please..” he moved his hand back to your clit, determined to give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had. “cmon, pretty girl..” he cooed. “cum all over this fucking cock, make yourself feel so good.”

it was almost too much. almost. you could barely see as your head fell back, body tensing as you finally came around his cock, a string of curses and his name escaping as you did so. you always thought that the fabled ‘make you see stars’ orgasm was fake, but you could now proudly report that it was entirely true.

as soon as keigo felt you tighten around him, he came, his cock twitching as cum spilled into your tight cunt, his body shaking and spasming. a few feathers fell onto the bed as his wings puffed out, spreading slightly. he bucked into you a few more times, riding out his orgasm and making sure that none of his cum leaked out of you.

with the air hot and thick between the two of you, he slowly pulled out, hissing as he did so. your legs fell onto the bed, followed by a twinge of pain in them, something you’d surely pay for tomorrow.

keigo laid beside you, watching as you turned to face him, a smile on your lips.

“so, was your first time good?” you asked teasingly.

“fucking amazing. better than i ever could have asked for,” he grinned back at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “can we do it again?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how excited he sounded at the prospect.

“just gimmie a minute, okay? not all of us have the stamina of the number two hero.” you playfully waved your hand in his face.

“fine, fine..” he sighed, pulling you flush against him as you two laid in the comfortable silence of the aftermath, and you knew that this was far from the last time tonight.

[euovennia]

oh oh - and if it’s not too much trouble to ask, an addition to mom/dad friend simon, maybe another hc where reader takes a bullet for him and he’s like "why would you do that" and she’s all like "because your my friend" and he’s like "🥹" rubbing my hands together deviously

so for anyone new, this post is a continuation of this request, but it can be read as a stand alone if you so choose! i will say simon may be a bit ooc but you've already been besties forever so it's fine. thank you to the anon who requested this, i hope i did it justice. now please, enjoy <3

so by this point it's become well established that you and simon are pretty much a package deal

one can never be seen without the other trailing too far behind

unless of course one of you (usually simon) is actually trying to do their job

but even then you both have a tendency to hover

well

the hovering is usually done by simon who will take it upon himself to sit somewhere in the same room as you while you work

but you're more direct in your approach

which basically means you have no hesitation in pulling up a chair and talking his ear off

depending on his mood/what he's working on he'll either slide something your way in hopes of distracting you into silence or he'll take part in your mindless chatter

it's usually the latter much to the annoyance of price whose come to notice that simon tends to submit his mission reports just a tad later than normal when you're around

but he doesn't dare say anything because he's just happy simon finally has someone to keep him company

even if it does mean him missing a deadline here and there

now with the amount of time you two spend around one another, there was the small concern that you two may become a bit more reckless on missions together

but honestly?

that couldn't have been farther from the truth

as much as you like messing around with simon, you're very aware that your line of work requires your full attention

so, despite how hard it can be at times, you limit your jokes and general shenanigans to the bare minimum so you can get the job done

and obviously it goes without saying that he does the same by shedding the name simon riley and becoming the infamous ghost

it was a bit startling for the team to witness this change at first

they honestly thought you two were mad at each other

but after the mission was said and done, you and simon started hanging out again and it just kinda clicked

simon probably uses you as an example to soap to be honest

anyway, point is

you both know how to keep your friendship out of the way in the field, you've practically mastered the art of it

but the moment you see him get into a knife fight with an enemy soldier on a mission, you can't help but worry

and you can't help the way your worry morphs into panic as you see a tiny red dot plant itself on his body as he finally drives his knife into the neck of the rival soldier

and you certainly can't help the way your feet seemingly begin to move on their own as you sprint toward ghost and practically ram him into the ground

and you most definitely can't help the yelp of pain that drops from your lips as you feel a searing hot pain rip through your lower abdomen

so much for those bullet proof vests

simon looks up from his position on the ground, knife in hand and ready to stab it into the poor soul dumb enough to tackle him like this

but then he sees you

he sees your face, eyes wide with shock and mouth agape

his eyes trail down your body and he swears his world nearly crashes as he stares at the dark red spot currently staining your shirt

he can only fear the faint sound of yet another gun going off before you're tumbling onto the ground

he snaps out of his daze to catch you and he can't help but feel horrified upon seeing another bullet wound lodged into your thigh

he can hold in his cry of agony and heartbreak as your breathing soon becomes labored and your eyes fill with tears

he gives your struggling form a once over before sucking in a sharp breath and dragging you to a nearby hill that was littered with enough rocks and boulders to offer shelter from the incoming storm of bullets

he settles your head onto his lap as he harshly barks out words you can't even begin to understand through the comms

you can barely register the way his hand gives your face a small smack

your eyes connect as he pulls a roll of gauze from his tactical backpack, "come on, kid. don't do this to me. just a bit longer."

even with the searing hot pain that was overruling all your other senses, you can't help but smile

you grab onto his inked forearm and he stops as he looks back at you, eyes wild and frantic

"hey simon?"

"what?"

"thanks for putting up with me."

your eyes begin to flutter open, a small hiss of discomfort escaping your mouth as you cringe at the bright overhead lights

you make a move to bring a hand up in front of your eyes to shield yourself form the harsh fluorescents, but stop your movements when the lights suddenly begin to dim

confused, you begin to look around the room only to see simon standing by a wooden door with his hand on what you assumed to be a light dimmer

he stares at you through the eye holes of his balaclava, "better?"

you offer him a nod paired with a small smile and open your mouth to offer your thanks but stop when he puts the lights back up to their full brightness causing you to let out a groan

you open your mouth once more to vocalize your complaints and throw a half-hearted insult his way, but stop when you hear the heavy footfall of simon's boots making their way over to your hospital bed

he comes to a stop by your bedside as he glares down at you, a swirl of emotions darkening his already hardened gaze

after giving your eyes a few moments to adjust he speaks, "you're the stupidest person i've ever fuckin' met."

your eyes widen as your jaw goes slack, "excuse me?"

he leans down and stops just a few inches short of your face, "i said you're stupid and i'd yank you off the field myself if i could."

you can feel your heart drop at his harsh tone but decide to soldier on, "you're in a good mood today, aren't ya?"

his eyes narrow and a growl of anger and frustration escape the lips hidden by his mask, "don't give me any of that shit, you know what you did."

you sigh, "i'm in a hospital bed, simon. i don't think i could've done any–"

you don't even get to finish your sentence before he's interrupting you, "why'd you do it?"

you stare up at him, confusion and annoyance evident on your face

"simon, what are y–"

he scoffs, "the fucking bullet! you took the fucking bullet! why'd you do that? what made you think that was a bloody good idea? do you have any fucking clue what you put this team – what you put me through?"

oh

right

your expression melts into one of sheepishness as you attempt to get in a word, but stop when simon decides to continue

"i had the situation handled, i could've taken care of myself! i'm smart, i'm capable, and i have years more experience than you do so tell me, i can handle myself! i don't need you steppin' in and throwin' yourself in front of bullets! you coulda fuckin' died!"

"simon–"

he points a finger in your face as he continues on with his rant, "no, you don't get to call me that, not anymore. from here on out, you either address me as ghost or lieutenant, nothing else until you can learn how to handle yourself on the field. we need soldiers, not daredevils. do you understand?"

you exhale, "no."

before he can continue with his angry tangent you sit up with a painful grimace and grab the pillow the pillow your head once rested upon and fling it at him

he narrowly dodges it and stares at you with a mix of rage and pure disbelief with a glare that practically screamed, "what the fuck."

hit block limit again. i'm afraid this may become a habit. anyway.

taking his silence as your cue to speak, you do just that, "okay fine, you're right. i probably shouldn't have tackled you down like that and taken a bullet for you, i probably should've remembered that you're a fully capable man with more experience than me, and i probably should've remembered that the field is no place to be playing favorites. you're right, i should've kept that all in mind but–"

you let out a small sigh as you avert your eyes to the think blanket draped over your body, "when i saw that gun pointed right at you i...i couldn't bring myself to care about any of that. at that moment, all i saw was you in danger and i couldn't have that so i did what i did. you can reprimand and punish me all you want for doing it, but i don't care. i stand by my actions."

simon eyes you for a few moments longer before grabbing onto a chair nearby and settling it beside your bed

you watch as he sits down with a small sigh, his eyes never leaving yours

"why?"

your brows knit together in confusion

"why what?"

"why'd you take a bullet–no, why'd you take two bullets for me? you and everyone else on this team know i could've handled it, so why?"

you frown, "because you're my friend, simon. why else?"

once those words leave your mouth, you're greeted with his blank ghost stare

again, he's just 👁️👁️

and you feel a small wave of concern wash over you

like

this is the same man who was torturing you with the bright fluorescent lights and lecturing you to hell just a few minutes ago and now he's just staring at you

still and silent as ever

you almost ask if he's okay, but stop yourself when he brings his large hand up to the edge of your hospital bed and begins inching it closer to yours before eventually resting it over yours

it's quiet for a few moments longer before he speaks in one of the quietest voices you've ever heard from him, "you took that bullet cause i'm your friend?"

you can't help but soften your own voice as you respond, "my best friend."

upon hearing you say that, simon can just feel the small well of tears that begin building up in his eyes

and as much as he wants to fight them off, he just can't

you, already being able to sense the internal war he's got going on inside his head, simply turn your hand so you can grip onto his and give it a firm squeeze

and by god he hates you for that

because now he can't help but disconnect your hands in favor of surging forward and wrapping his arms around you

you swear you can feel the small rumble of his shoulders as he tries and fails to conceal his quiet sniffles but you decide to overlook it because oh my god simon 'ghost' riley is crying in your arms and it's all your fault

so you decide it's best to just hold onto him as tight as you possibly can

he notices this and he just melts

what did he do to deserve you?

what overpowering force of life felt that he was good enough for the sunshine that is you?

who gave him the honor of being blessed with you?

he's not sure but quite frankly, he doesn't really care

not when you're holding onto him like your life depends on it

not when you pull back from the hug, look into his eyes, and offer him the brightest smile he's ever seen

and certainly not when you grab onto his hands and speak in that sweet honey voice of yours, "i'll always take a bullet for you. i can't lose you, simon."

jesus christ you're going to make his heart burst

he sucks in a small breath and squeezes onto your hands, "i can't lose you either, kid."

you only smile, "you won't, i'm always gonna be here with you."

words that once would've annoyed him to no end now set his cold heart alight

"you fuckin' better."

your smile widens and you lean forward to capture him in yet another hug

with his arms wrapped tightly around your body and you pressed up against him, he can't help but smile

it's definitely nice to have a friend

:)

[tradgedyinwaves]

Touch - Ch. 3

Poly!141 x chunky!reader tw: Just a tad smutty, more like an idea of smut rather than the stuff itself. 

Two Weeks Later. Friday.

You stood outside under an awning, waiting for the bus to show up as you texted away on your phone. A soft smile had plastered itself to your face the longer you texted with the big Scot, but one thing you’d noticed is that he was always mentioning the other members of his team, not that he’d told you what they do.

“John is a pro at fixing up cars, never seen a car he couldn’t fix.” “Lordie, this pasta is good. Gaz is always making amazing food.” “Remind me not to bet against Simon again. Lost all of my money on that rugby match last night.” 

He never referred to Simon by his callsign, not wanting to give you any reason to recognize or connect the dots. Eventually, they’d each come to you, injecting themselves into your life one by one. You’d told Johnny that your car had broken down a few days ago, complaining that the bus was always late and it never had any open seats, but you didn’t have the money to get it fixed. He’d offered for John to come take a look, but you’d insisted it was fine. Except it wasn’t. After a week of bus rides, you were ready to take him up on the offer. 

🪻: Hey Johnny? Would your friend be able to take a look at my car? I can’t bear the bus anymore. 🧼: Of course. We can come tonight once you’re off work? 🪻: oh thank you so much! You guys are truly the best. 🧼: Anything for you, Petal.

You blushed at his message, stepping onto the bus in much better spirits than before.

A few hours later, there was a knock at your door and you jumped at the sound, getting up from the couch to open it and smiling shyly as Johnny’s face came into view. You hadn’t seen him in person since that day in the flower shop, exchanging pictures over the last two weeks, but nothing else. His scruff was freshly trimmed, bright eyes shining at you, but it wasn’t him that made your eyes bug. It was the man standing just behind and slightly to the left of him, wide frame blocking light from the hallway.

“Aye, this is Price,” Johnny’s thick accent sounded jovial as you stepped back, opening the door for these two men. Oh, Magda was going to have a heyday when you told her about this. “You can call me John if you like, little bird,” the older man stated, passing through the door to stand next to it. You stammered a bit before shaking your head and introducing yourself, closing the door softly. “I’m sorry, I thought you were gonna take a bit longer. I’ll go change and then take you guys down to my car,” you offered, giving them small smiles as they nodded to you before disappearing into your bedroom. You took a moment to lean against the door, fighting with your thundering heart rate as you closed your eyes and leaned your head back. Clearing your head, you moved from the door to change into some jeans and a simple shirt, tossing the shorts you’d been wearing into the corner.

While you were changing, the two men were having an almost silent conversation in your living room. “Cap, did you see-?” Johnny’s eyes met Price’s who only gave him a hard stare and the slightest nod. Between the pretty color on your cheeks and those damn shorts, both men were having their control tested. And you only served to make it worse, coming out in jeans that hugged your hips and ass in a way that left nothing to the imagination. They were just as bad as the shorts.

“Ready?” you asked, trying to stay chipper as to not betray your rapid heart beat or the way your voice wavered on the word. “Lead the way, Petal.” Johnny gave you one of his lopsided smiles and you had to switch to manual breathing.

A few minutes later, you were down on the street with them, rambling on about what you thought the problem could be. “It’s possible it’s the alternator, but it could also be the battery. I’m honestly not sure at this point. It was a hunk of junk when I bought it,” you babbled out, forcing yourself to stop after a few moments of long-winded speech and the soft looks the two men were giving you.

John had himself under the vehicle in minutes, thankful that his line of sight to you was blocked. You were unknowingly challenging both of them with your thick waist and that pretty look you got in your eyes when you were looking at either of them. He wasn’t even sure how Johnny was coping, standing that close to you.

But Johnny wasn’t coping. If you looked away for even a moment during your conversation, he was readjusting himself to make his obvious arousal even the tiniest amount less obvious. You’d caught him once but didn’t say anything, turning to watch John under your car while you struggled to hide the blush that covered your cheeks. Sometimes, you were grateful you were a girl, though your squeezing thighs weren’t as subtle as you thought they were and Johnny had to clear his throat to hide the groan that threatened to spill forward.

Finally, John was sliding out from under the car and standing before you, covered in grease and wiping his hands on a towel. Suffice it to say, if you’d been a man, your desire for them would have been just as apparent as theirs. With a soft grunt, John was directing you to try to start it, making you jump to action. Darting over to the driver’s seat, you slid the key in and almost cried when it started. You hopped back out, running over to John to wrap your arms around his middle, thanking him profusely for fixing it and how could you ever repay him.

“Let me take you out, little bird.” 

Your eyes widened while your arms released the huge man, flipping between Johnny and Price, eyes filled with confusion when the former gave you a soft smile and a nod. You’d thought Johnny would ask you at some point, but you supposed that he hadn’t in two weeks, so why would he now? Chewing the inside of your lip, you nodded. “I’d love to,” you replied while your cheeks turned a bit pink and you could have sworn you saw them share a look over your head. “We’d best be going. I’ll pick you up tomorrow, 8pm,” John stated, a warm smile on his face as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head before moving to clean up his tools. Johnny joined you and you looked up at him with the same confusion, though you couldn’t bring yourself to voice it. He just gazed down at you with those pretty blues, a soft smile on his lips that looked a little more like a smirk than anything else. “Don’t look at me like that, Petal,” Johnny whispered to you as Price started to move his tools to his truck, hugging you tightly before walking away to get into the truck. “See ya soon, pretty bird.” 

Hours later, laying in bed, you reflected on your evening. You’d been touched more in the last few hours than you had in years and it made your mind a little hazy. If it wasn’t Johnny’s hand on your lower back as the three of you trekked down the stairs, it was Price’s arm slung over your shoulders as you explained what happened when your infernal car died. From there it was Johnny’s small touches like brushing your hair back and then finally Price’s kiss to the top of your head that had your body feeling like they’d set little fires down everywhere they touched. 

There was a foreign feeling inside when you laid down that night. The ache between your thighs and the simmering flames they’d left behind creating a buzzing in your ears that you just couldn’t shake no matter how much chamomile tea you’d drank or how many breathing exercises you did. So finally, you did something you hadn’t even thought of in months. Sliding your fingers under the shorts you’d slipped back on when they left, you let out a soft moan as your fingers found the throbbing bundle of nerves and rubbed quick, precise circles on it. Your brain conjured some filthy images of the two hulking men taking you however they saw fit, not that you’d ever admit it. 

I hope you guys are enjoying this and thank you so much for the support! I promise I'm not forgetting Gaz and Ghost. It's just not their time yet. They'll get their shot, pink promise.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hii! Could you write something about reader being JJ’s teenage daughter and is in a school shooting. Just for some dramatics and more hurt, she gets shot in the shoulder when she tries to help her friend who’s already shot. (Lots and lots of hurt and then comfort pretty pleeeease <3)

Hey, anon! This is my first time writing something like this, so I hope it's what you're looking for! 💖 –illdowhatiwantthanks

Fight or Flight

Jennifer Jareau x daughter!reader Warnings: HUGE BIG WARNINGS for gun violence, school/active shooter situation, descriptions of injuries/blood, general anxiety/trauma/fear, hurt/comfort (please let me know if I've left something out!) Word count: 2.1k

Summary: You're in the cafeteria, when another student opens fire. When your friend is injured, you have to decide whether to take your mom's advice–"GET OUT"–or stay to keep your friend safe.

You didn’t know it could be so quiet and so loud at the same time. The blood pounding in your ears drowning out everything else so that each scream, each squeak of a tennis shoe against the cafeteria tile, each gunshot, is muffled.

You can’t tell who has the gun, can’t tell where the shots are coming from. The moment you heard the first shot, you were scrambling under the table, so fast, so frantic that you slammed your head on the seat going down and felt blood start to drip down past your brow bone.

You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t settle your eyes anywhere–the whole room just a blur of sound and color. Shaking, you turned to your right to squeeze further under the table and noticed your best friend, Colin, gasping beside you, blood spurting from his lower leg.

He was crying–that was all you could focus on at first. Not the blood, not the sound, not the chaos around you. It was Colin, crying.

You crawled over to him, pressing your hands against the wound and pushing down the bile that rose in your throat at how warm it was. You wanted to say something, wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, or that you were there for him, but you couldn’t manage anything at all. Couldn’t cry or scream or speak or anything. But you met his teary eyes and knew that he knew you weren’t going to leave him.

Your hands weren’t doing much to stop the blood, and the growing pool scared you. You wanted your mom and dad, you needed your mom and dad. Surely, they would have been contacted by now? Surely, the BAU was on their way? This was the kind of thing your mom would get called in for.

The sounds of the bullets grew fainter–the shooter was moving away from the cafeteria. Leaving one hand pressed against Colin’s leg and using the other to pull your phone from your back pocket, you tried to text your mom:

There’s a shooter. Colin shot in leg. So much blood. What to do? I love you

Your mom texted back immediately, and you’d never been more relieved that your go-to was to have your phone on silent for texting during class. Your mom got so mad at you for it. Wanted you to keep it in your locker. Maybe not anymore.

CAN YOU GET OUT??

You sighed, blood seeping through your fingers as tears streamed down Colin’s cheeks.

No bc Colin.

He will be ok. If you can run, RUN. Local police is there. BAU on the way. 

You stared at the text, trying to ignore the pained screams of other students around you, the frantic footsteps of those trying to flee the building. It could be you. You could flee the building. But Colin couldn’t. And you couldn’t leave him, you just couldn’t. It wasn’t who you were. So even though you knew your mom would kill you later, you sent the text anyway:

No. Staying with Colin. He’s bleeding bad. What do I do?

The three dots seemed to last forever. You were sure she was going to yell at you, berate you, order you out of the building. Instead:

Take your hoodie off and wrap it around his leg. 2-3 inches above the wound. Tight as you can.

Then play dead. DO NOT MOVE until police say so. And follow their directions exactly.

You did as she said, using your body weight to pull the hoodie tight around Colin’s leg. You shoved his sleeve into his mouth when he screamed, but it was too late.

Lost in the texts, lost in taking care of Colin, you hadn’t noticed the students running back this way, the gunshots growing louder again. And all of a sudden, a searing, tearing pain shot through your shoulder, and it exploded into a bloody mess. When you saw bone, you thought you might vomit, but every other thought in your head disappeared as a pair of tattered Converse stopped in front of you and Colin. You could see the long end of the rifle trailing at his shins.

You jumped a little when he bent down to look at you, and in that moment you were sure you were going to die. And you wished you’d texted your dad, too, wondered if it would haunt him that you hadn’t. You wished you’d listened a little closer this morning when Henry told you about his latest comic book. Wished that you hadn’t been so quick to wipe the spittle from Michael’s sloppy kiss off your cheek. Wished that you hadn’t gotten on the bus this morning pissed at your mom because she wouldn’t let you go to the beach with your friends this summer. You almost wished you’d done what she said–that’d you’d run–but you’d never have been able to forgive yourself for leaving Colin.

The biggest surprise of all: you recognized the shooter’s face. It was Daniel. From band. Seventh chair trombone. Greasy hair. Pimply face. Even quieter than you. He always wore AC/DC t-shirts. You weren’t friends exactly, but you said hi to him when it was appropriate. You knew he didn’t really have any friends, tried to be nice to him, but you didn’t have much in common, didn’t know what to talk to him about.

“Ugh. Jareau,” he said, as if he was disappointed to see you. “You could’ve left, you know?”

You were shaking so bad your vision was nearly blurry, and your voice felt thick in your throat, like syrup.

“H-hey, Daniel,” you whispered, trembling.

You watched him pull a box of bullets out of his sweatshirt pocket, and open up the gun to reload it. You could run. You could run now. But if you did… well, you couldn’t leave Colin. And you could try to get the gun away from him, but he seemed too alert right now. And the fact of the matter was, Daniel was bigger and stronger than you.

“Honestly, Y/N? Kind of wish you weren’t here. You were kind of nice sometimes.”

“Y-you don’t have to do this,” you told him, inching forward a bit, trying to get close enough to the gun that you could wrest it from his grasp.

“Well, I mean, there’s not really any going back at this point, you know?” he said, clicking the gun back into place and cocking it.

You were frantic now, head spinning. “Wait!” you stuttered. “My m-mom. She’s an FBI agent. She can get you out of here. A-alive.”

You were so close. So close to being able to grab the gun. You turned slightly so that your good arm was closest to Daniel and thanked the universe it was your non-dominant arm that had been hit.

“Hmm,” Daniel said, and you could tell he was faking it. That he was being sarcastic. “Yeah, somehow, I don’t believe you.”

And it was then, as he moved to put the extra ammunition back in his pocket, when his grip would be the least firm, that you lunged forward to grab the gun. You tried your best to keep it pointed to the floor, so that if he pulled the trigger, it’d hit your lower extremities or, better yet, nothing at all. You were scared. You were so, so scared. You didn’t think you’d ever been so scared. Daniel was bigger than you. He was stronger.

But he didn’t have two law enforcement agents as parents. Parents that had put you in self-defense and martial arts classes from the time you could walk. Parents that had taught you how to handle a gun by your tenth birthday.

You kneed Daniel in the groin as hard as you could then, hands shaking, wrestled the gun out of his grip, holding it with ease–or as much ease as you could manage given the circumstances and the searing, throbbing pain in your shoulder–and turning it on Daniel.

You scrambled to your feet, chest heaving, and tried to channel your mom. What would she do? How would she make sure she didn’t lose control of the situation?

Your voice shook, even as you tried to be forceful, assured.

“Get on your knees!” you yelled, pointing the gun at him. “Put your hands behind your head!”

Daniel laughed, and it unnerved you. It scared you.

“Damn, Jareau,” he chuckled. “Didn’t see this coming.”

But you were both caught off-guard by the cafeteria doors slamming open and a flood of armed and armored officers storming through the doors. But their guns weren’t trained on Daniel. They were pointing at you.

“FBI!” they shouted. “On the ground! On the ground!”

You weren’t sure how to put your hands up without moving the gun, and you were afraid if you moved the gun, they’d shoot you. Your knees shook, and you were terrified you were going to fall down.

“Hold your fire!” And this time, your knees really did buckle. You knew that voice.

Your mom shot through the line of arm red officers, sprinting toward you and shoving her gun back into its holster.

“She’s not the shooter!” your mom yelled.

“It’s him,” you called weakly, pointing at Daniel who sat slumped next to you.

“She’s my daughter!” And this time, her voice broke. She collided with you, wrapping you so tightly in her arms, holding you up as all the tears you hadn’t been able to cry came pouring out of you. She had never felt so solid, so warm, so safe. Your mom. You wanted your mom, you needed your mom, and she was here.

“Take it,” you sobbed, shoving the gun away from you toward the other officers, who cuffed Daniel. “Please, take it.”

Your mom ripped off her bulletproof vest to hold you closer to her chest, rocking you on her lap. And she smelled like home. She smelled like the lavender shampoo that you both used, like baby food, like mom.

“I���m here, honey,” she said, pressing kisses into your head and examining your body. “I’m right here. You’re safe. You did so good.”

As paramedics moved in, you waved one down and pointed to Colin, who shook on the floor next to you. “Please!” you cried, sucking in shaky breaths. “My friend needs help!”

“You need help, too, honey,” your mom said, gently, brushing hair off your shoulder to examine the bullet wound. “You think you can stand and walk?”

You nodded, thankful for your mom’s steadiness, her strength, and she wrapped her arms around your body and heaved you to your feet. The rest of her team–your BAU family–stood at a distance, watching, and you knew you’d thank them later, that they’d hug you. Bring you food. Make sure you felt safe again. But you didn’t know how you’d ever feel safe again.

In the ambulance (they let you and your mom ride to the hospital with Colin), you leaned against your mom and she held you tight, so tight, as if she’d never let you go again.

You’d stopped crying for a bit, but the tears started streaming all over again a few minutes later.

“Hey,” your mom cooed, rubbing your good shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” you cried, shaking.

“Oh, sweetheart.” She turned your head toward her, so that you had to look her in the eye. “Sorry for what?”

“You told me to run, and I didn’t. And–and I was mad at you this morning! I’m so sorry. I was so scared and I thought… I thought I might not get to tell you I love you.”

If you’d looked up, you would have seen your mom blink away tears. You would have seen her struggle to keep her composure, seen her face scrunch up as she pressed her lips to the top of your head.

“Y/N,” she said. “You don’t need to be sorry. Honey, I’m so proud of you. What you did today? Baby, that was brave. You were so, so brave. You saved Colin’s life. I never thought I could be angry and proud at the same time, but here we are.”

You both laughed a little and sniffed.

“I love you, Mom,” you whispered, burying your face in her.

She pulled you even closer into her, wrapping you in her arms, and you knew that no matter what–no matter what happened, no matter how scary things got–she would keep you safe. She would never let you go again.

“I love you too, honey. I love you so much.” And you could feel her tears drip down onto your head, feel them washing away the blood.

[scoops-aboy86]

By The Heart (Secret Admirer pt 2)

Steddie Week 2024, July 2: Hands / touch starved / Invisible Touch by Genesis

wc: 2136 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

After the world fell apart a second time in November of ‘84, Steve had finished out the rest of his senior year in a daze. Partly because Billy Hargrove had broken a fucking plate over his head, giving him a small scar by his hairline that the doctor said would fade and recurring headaches that the doctor said might stick around anywhere from a few months to forever. 

It’s been more than a few months and the headaches are only slightly less frequent and a tiny bit less severe. 

He graduated, barely. His dad keeps dropping pointed comments about how his parents let him stay in their house rent-free after high school, how he’d saved up while attending a nearby college by not having to worry about the cost of a dorm or basic meals, and that it is his gratitude towards them that has moved him to offer the same to Steve. Usually said comments come after Steve tries to sidestep some sort of menial task, and it always feels like a threat.Steve just grits his teeth and takes it—refills his dad’s drink when the bottle is already literally right by the man’s hand, washes the family car after dinner when both his parents know that Steve has a shift at Scoops first thing in the morning, whatever. He can’t afford to get kicked out right now. 

His job at Scoops Ahoy is shit, all bright fluorescent lights and kids screaming and everything getting sticky for a measly minimum wage, but that probably reflects the quality of the job application he’d submitted. 

He has no friends, no prospects, no one in his corner except a bunch of incoming freshmen and the only one who really seems to want him around is off at some sort of smart people camp that he’d never even heard of… Go figure. 

But he has Secret Admirer. 

Okay, what Steve has is a pen pal who has a PO box and prefers to remain anonymous, possibly because Steve is an embarrassing person to have a crush on these days. And it’s really stupid that he thinks of them as first name Secret, last name Admirer, but it’s not like he hasn’t tried to come up with better names! Unfortunately, there are so many things Secret Admirer has called him (sweetheart, darling, dearest, honey, baby) that he can’t really think of anything original with those constantly rotating in his head… He can’t use them, though. It’d be weird. 

The first letter had been shoved into his locker in the last few weeks of school, looking like someone either wrote it with their non-dominant hand or had also suffered a blow to the head recently, and he hadn’t known what to make of it at first. In fact, he’d considered the possibility that Tommy or Billy were playing some sort of prank on him… but he didn’t think either of them could write “To Steve, the heart of my heart” without bursting into homophobic flames, and if it was Carol she would’ve done her girliest handwriting with hearts dotting the eyes. And his Secret Admirer had mentioned things no one else in his life seemed to care about. 

Like, 

I hope you’re feeling better. Sometimes I notice you squinting or grimacing in the classes we have in common… Are you still getting headaches? Do you get enough rest? You probably already know this, but mental and physical rest are super important for getting your handsome self all recovered, big boy. 

And,

I had a concussion once, not a bad one but it really left an impression. Felt like I was trying to think through a head full of soup for weeks. It sucks that teachers didn’t seem to cut you much slack because, just saying, I noticed they used to do that a lot more when you were still on the basketball and swim teams. Jock privilege placed above consideration of an actual, serious injury? I’m sorry, but that’s the rankest compound of villainous smell that ever offended nostril, sweetheart, and you deserve better. 

So, yeah. Clearly his Secret Admirer is a nerd who doesn’t necessarily have the best opinion of jocks… but still took the time to notice all those things and write kindly about them. It felt nice, knowing that at least one person out there noticed, maybe even cared. 

And when that letter turned out not to be a one-off, a few more letters in his locker and then one in his mailbox, postmarked and everything, after graduation? Steve was hooked, enough to start writing self-consciously back. 

Which has brought him to the point of wanting so badly to meet this person that he’s stooped to begging, and it’s not even getting him anywhere. 

It’s occurred to him that it could be a guy, of course it has. Steve might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knows it happens. He’d had a friend in middle school, Todd Fischer, nice guy, totally normal kid—got caught kissing some boy in the next grade up behind the gym and turned out to be the worst sprinter of the two. The Fischers had moved out of Hawkins a few weeks later and Steve hadn’t heard anything from or about Todd since. They’d been halfway through reading Romeo & Juliet in English at the time, and Steve remembers thinking when they got to the end of the play that at least things hadn’t gone that badly for Todd and whoever the other kid was. He’s old enough now to know that it could have; between Todd being such a nice kid, Barb dying in his own backyard, and the threat of government agents coming out of the woodwork if he ever breathes a word about certain secrets, the thought leaves a bad taste in Steve’s mouth. 

Anyway, if it is a guy, that would explain why Secret Admirer keeps dancing around his pleas to meet. And the initially disguised handwriting—which had been dropped by the second mailed letter, along with a brief, sheepish apology. 

But it could also be a girl who’s really shy or something. Steve doesn’t want to assume and then look like a total idiot further down the road. Whoever it is, all Steve knows is that he doesn’t want to lose them. He has to play this smart, play it cool… because he knows himself, and already knows that they have him by the heart based on words alone. 

The latest letter is in his hands, crinkled a little at the edges, and Steve can’t help himself from rereading the fifth paragraph yet again. 

… those indecently tiny shorts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about running my fingers up the inside of those thighs. Or my mouth. Whichever you think you’d like best, baby, I’m not picky. And while I do like ice cream, particularly strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a cone, I can think of something else I’d love to wrap my hand around and run my tongue over before any drips can escape. You just think about that, hmm? Maybe share some of those thoughts in your reply, if I haven’t scared you off…

He’s not scared off. Doesn’t need to know exactly who put pen to paper to imagine hands and lips running up his legs, either, an invisible touch that sends shivers along his spine. 

Okay, maybe it’s been a while. Between striking out from behind the Scoops counter and not really trying all that hard anyway, the only action Steve’s seen is from his own hand��� and this letter. He has thoughts, alright, but has a much better idea of how to translate them into action than words. And this is his problem with the whole pen pal only thing, his natural charm (if he has any left) is absolutely useless in this medium. 

The other problem is that he really, really wants to jerk off about this, except he’s got almost no details to fuel the fantasy. He knows that Secret Admirer had a concussion once, but not what color or length or texture or style their hair is; knows they’re on the fringes of popularity and not really into sports, but nothing about their height or build or how they might move against him. Hell, he doesn’t even know if they’re a girl or a guy, isn’t sure if he should try to imagine boobies and painted nails or stubbled cheeks and big hands. 

Secret Admirer has mentioned being a smoker though, of both tobacco and grass, and Steve is not exactly proud of how strongly this makes him want a cigarette just because it’s all he has to go on. He has work in under an hour and Robin hates the smell of cigarettes, will be extra vicious for their entire shift if he comes in reeking of smoke. 

He’ll have to figure out something else…

Dear Secret Admirer, Thanks for writing again, I was really glad to get your letter. I don’t sleep with them under my pillow because sometimes my pillow ends up on the floor and I don’t want to drool all over them. I keep them in a box in the back of my closet, because sometimes my parents have the cleaning lady do my bedroom without telling me and I don’t want her going through my stuff or putting it in weird places that I can never find again.  Sorry for laughing at you You must not have seen me last week when I threw a banana peel at my coworker for It’s not being humble if I don’t deserve Yeah, fuck high school.  Sorry for not rewriting this, I’m running out of paper and my dad’ll kill me if I break into his office to get more I definitely thought about what you said in your last letter. I thought about it a lot. It’s hard to figure out how to explain what though, because I wanted to picture you like you were probably picturing me when you were writing it. You obviously know what I look like, but I don’t know who you are so I had to get creative. (Which isn’t my strong suit. So if this is stupid maybe we could just never mention it again?) Since I don’t know what you look like and it’d be weird to try and picture you anyway, and then what if I’m not even close and that makes it seem like I don’t like you for who you are? I’m not sure if that makes sense. But anyway, since I don’t know what you look like I pictured you dressed like a ninja.  Hear me out, okay? You’re such a mystery. Ninjas are mysterious, and dressed all black to blend in with the shadows. You can’t see their hair or face and they wear gloves because you can tell a lot about a person by their hands. I guess what I’m saying is I imagined you sneaking into my room at night when the lights are off. Totally silent but with this powerful presence, you know? I think if I were in the same room as you it’d feel like that moment right before the whistle goes off at a swim meet, because that’s just like, holy shit it’s about to happen and your muscles are all tense but ready but you’re waiting, coiled like a snake. So I’m coiled like a snake and you’re still a ninja and I’m not very good at this. I’ve done it over the phone a few times but that’s different. I don’t know where I’m going with this just sitting writing this alone in my room with Genesis playing in the background so I’m going to stop. Just trust me, it was hot. If you ever want to exchange numbers I’d be happy to tell you all about it sometime.  It feels weird to end like that, so I’ll also tell you that I tried reading that Hobbit book you suggested and you were right, it’s a lot easier than the Rings book that the kids I babysit tried to bully me into reading. Bibo is freaking out about all these dwarves in his house and I can relate, it sounds like when those kids all show up and try to rope me into driving them around town. At least they haven’t tried to make me steal anything or try to take on a damn dragon yet. Hopefully this book won’t give them any ideas.  — Steve PS If that was so dumb you changed your mind about still writing to me, please let me down easy. Seriously it would be no hard feelings. At least I still have a great ass and great hair, so I’ve got that going for me.

Tag list (open): @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve @steviewashere

@cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve @rozzieroos @lunaraindrop

@just-my-latest-hyperfixation @wheneverfeasible @swimmingbirdrunningrock @yesdangerpls @matchingbatbites

@ihavekidneys @p0lybl4nkk @grtwdsmwhr @cheesedoctor @thetinymm

@practicallybegging @fuzzyduxk @greatwerewolfbeliever

[leighsartworks216]

Not Tonight. Not To You. Never Again.

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader (can possibly be read as platonic)

Something something Astarion would kill anybody who tries to take your drink at a party something something

I started this while sitting in the car doing laundry, and I'm finishing this while very sleepy. It was half proofread, again bc I'm sleepy

THIS FIC CONTAINS THEMES OF DATE-RAPE DRUGGING AND SEXUAL ASSAULT

Warnings: drugging, references to sexual assault, swearing, blood, murder, slight protective Astarion, no actual assault happens, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,374

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You blinked as the world tilted on its axis, blurring at the edges of your vision, before it stood upright again, only slightly hazy. Had you really had that many drinks tonight? It didn't seem like it. Maybe this tavern's brew was stronger than you were used to?

"Everythin’ alright? You look a bit sick."

You look up at Karlach with a reassuring grin. You hated to worry any of your friends, but least of all the tiefling. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and you'd hate to see it crack. "I'm fine. Think I should head to bed - this stuff is stronger than I thought it would be."

She frowned. "Really?" She peered into her tankard, confused. "Seemed a bit weak to me."

You chuckle. It sounded distant. "Guess I'm a bit of a lightweight." You push your mug away and stand on shaky legs, using the table for support. "Goodnight, everyone."

Those who hear you bid you goodnight as well, some raising their ales in gratitude and others teasing you about not being able to hold your liquor. Astarion stares at you like he's studying you, brow pinched tight. You offer him a smile, before doing your best to stumble toward the stairs.

Halfway there, a waiter comes to your side, wrapping an arm around you and smiling brightly. You recognized him through the fog in your vision; he'd been the one to serve you drinks. "Need a hand there, hero?"

You laugh, world spinning once more as you allow yourself to lean into his support. "A hero that can't hold their liquor," you drawl. "Some hero, eh?"

He chuckles by your ear. He bears most of your weight as he helps you up each well-worn step, steering you toward your room. How'd he know which one was yours? "I hardly think it affects the world's view of you," he assures. "After all, you did save Faerûn."

"It-" Your body lurched forward, all of your limbs turning to lead. The world continued to swirl and wave and twist, until you couldn't distinguish up from down or left from right. Black spots began dotting your vision, blocking out some of the vertigo. Your stomach churned, your head ached. "'t wasn' jus' me..."

"C'mon, love. Your room is just here. Let's get you to bed."

A bedroom spun in your vision, but not for long. The last thing you saw was the waiter's grinning face as you fell to the floor, too weak to stand any longer and too dizzy to stay upright if you had.

Where....

........... Astarion.........?

-

"Tav?" Something cold touches your face. "Darling, wake up."

"Mmnf..."

"That's it. You're safe now."

You blinked open your eyes but winced at the light that greeted you. You heard a soft hiss.

"Is that better?"

You tried again, and were grateful to find it was no longer so bright. You looked around, trying to get a sense of your surroundings.

"You're in your room." Astarion sneered, glaring at something on the floor. "But we should move you to mine before you try sleeping again.”

“Mm? Why..?” You groan as you sit up. Your body feels so heavy, like it was made entirely of stone. Astarion helped you up with a hand to your back. You followed where his gaze had been. Laying face down on the floor, in a puddle of blood, was… the waiter? You blinked stupidly at the corpse. “What happened?”

Once he was sure you wouldn’t fall backwards, he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you. “Bastard drugged you. Gods know what he would have done to you if I hadn’t followed you up.”

Your brain was still slow, trying to piece together what had happened before this. You remember celebrating a battle won. You’d bought drinks for everyone, and… You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths as bile rose to your throat. “Oh, fuck,” you gasped. “I-I thought the drinks were just strong, I-”

He carefully touches your arm. “It’s not your fault, love. No doubt he’d gotten good at tricking people.”

You shook your head, looking at him with wide, lost eyes. “What if he’d drugged you? Or Karlach or Shadowheart or- or-!”

He scoffed in disbelief, nose scrunching. “You just got drugged and nearly assaulted, and all you’re worried about is what could have happened if it’d been one of us? Darling, please, have a little perspective.”

You grimace as you glance back at the body. The sight of the blood or the corpse itself doesn’t bother you anymore. But the thought of what could have happened sat thick and unpleasant in your stomach. You grab his hand from your arm and hold it in your lap, fiddling with his long fingers to distract yourself. “How did you know to… To follow?”

“Well, for one, I trust Karlach knows when an ale is strong. Two, I’ve seen you hold your own against her in your little drinking games before. And three…” He curls his fingers around your hands, stopping your fiddling and rubbing a thumb along your knuckles. “I’ve seen men like him play this same game before. Too many times. I wasn’t going to risk it happening to you, too.”

A chill runs through your body. You lean forward to press your forehead against his neck. He hesitantly brings up a hand to run along your back, holding you to him. “Thank you,” you murmur. You bury your face further into him. “Gods, I can’t believe I…” You sigh, soft and shaky, dread overwhelming you as the reality of what happened sunk in. “Thank you, Astarion.”

“As much as I’d love to sit here all night, listening to you praise me over and over for the hero I am,” he teases, earning a quiet huff from you, “you need to sleep. And not here.” He gently pulls you away from him and stands from the bed, squeezing your hands before he lets go. “We’ll just tuck you in down the hall, I’ll go downstairs and scold the others for being too careless, inform the innkeeper of his employee’s exploits - perhaps even get paid for doing so - and then we can get the Hells out of here come first light.”

You chuckled softly. He helped you stand, an arm around your waist keeping you steady as he walked you around the body and out the door. “And if I want you to stay?”

He hums as though the thought never crossed his mind, before sighing overdramatically. “Then I’ll just have to get paid for my bold rescue in the morning. I suppose it can wait until then. I won’t be cleaning up that mess anyway.”

He unlocks his door at the end of the hall and guides you to the bed, setting you down on the edge. You clumsily kick your boots off and he sets them by the door, toeing his off right next to them. You plop back into the pillows, giving in to the weight in your bones. He huffs a laugh at how pathetic you look, but it’s far more endearing than he wishes to admit.

You do your best to get comfortable under the thick duvet the inn provided, sinking into the warmth it offered. He easily slithered in beside you, touching you almost pensively as you turn into him and cuddle close to his chest. You’re so warm. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, the other draped over your waist, keeping you close. Keeping you safe.

Even just thinking about what could have happened if he hadn’t had the good sense to follow fills him with rage. He should have torn that bastard apart, piece by piece, until he only knows pain and remorse for every single victim that came before. But you’re safe, and that’s what really matters, more than his own revenge.

You press your nose against his neck, hot breaths fanning across his skin. He could almost feel the brush of your lips as you murmured another thank you. Your arms slipped around his middle, wrapping around him so you were as close as possible. You muttered another thanks, and another, and another, until exhaustion overwhelmed you, and you fell asleep in his arms.

---

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[itsonlydana]

where snow falls and conversation strikes | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

Your train gets caught in a snowstorm and when the first class gets moved into the normal compartments, a beautiful man asks to sit with you

warnings/tags: modern(ish)!AU, First Meetings, Fluff

wordcount: 3,7k

an: wrote this mostly on the train on my way to work every morning so it took a while and suddenly its 25° c and not 0°c anymore... oops? and lets ignore that my layout for fics is not even close to uniformly

+ masterlist + rules + read the fic on ao3 +

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The view outside the train window was white in its purest form. The mush of white flakes went from gently landing on the glass to completely covering it, obscuring everything behind an opaque wall. 

A few hours ago it had been a wonderful sight of frost-tipped mountains, sloping meadows, and high-risen forests that made the long journey not only bearable but quite enjoyable. The hours had flown by just like the landscape, yet – as the newspapers had predicted it would happen – the gray clouds coming in from the seaside had caught up with the train weaving through the country and now, ever so slowly, it lost its speed. 

It couldn't have been long to the city. The last stop had been a while ago and if it weren't for the clouds hanging so low, coloring the sky ashen and the snow that just wouldn't stop falling, you could have probably seen the first small villages that dotted the outside of the city.

The train slowing down had been inevitable, you had known as much when you had boarded earlier this morning, though you had hoped to arrive at the destination fast enough that you would have outrun this weather.

Back in the city, back home, the weather would have been a small inconvenience but nothing that would hold you back.

The old speakers crackled just as you adjusted your seat, bringing forth another storm though this one ravaged through the inside: 

"We're mighty sorry 'bout this bother, but we kindly ask for yer patience. We've been movin' at a snail's pace 'cause of this darn weather, and now we're told we gotta face this blasted snowstorm 'fore we can carry on."

Even through the walls of your compartment, you heard the groaning and moaning of the other passengers. 

It wasn't surprising, the decision to travel onward would be foolish – everyone on this train knew – but the times you did travel like this you found that people seemed to bond over these expressions of annoyance toward something no one could be blamed for. The annoyed grunts that were passed along the rows with an eye roll made up for hours of silence daring the others to interrupt their own peaceful silence.

Your sigh fogged up the window, and you let your head fall back against the cushions, fixating your gaze on the white haze outside when the scruffy voice continued speaking after clearing his throat: 

"As it's damn impossible to know how long this weather's gonna last or whether it'll get worse, we kindly ask our first-class guests in the rear carriages to come through to the front. Heating there could be gone any minute. Make room for 'em. You'll of course be helped with your luggage."

Knowing that there is not much else to do than to sit back and wait, you picked up the book you had been reading, a collection of short stories by your favorite author that you knew by heart yet the familiar words provided comfort and you were quickly far away in those lands described.

Before you could finish the story you had left on though, a noise startled you and pulled you right back. The door of your compartment slid open by a tall man peeping his head in. 

"Good evening, forgive the intrusion, but might I trouble you for a moment? I was told I could find a seat here. Would that be alright?" The man raised his shoulder to stop the bag he was carrying from sliding down, it wouldn't do what he wanted and slipped to his elbow.

He was beautiful, despite the distressed look on his face that was covered by his long blonde hair falling into it as he glared at the bag; on its way down his arm, it had taken the coat he had hung over it with it so that it dangled close to the carpet floor of the train. 

You stared at him long enough that he arched a thick dark eyebrow and you flinched. 

"Oh, yes.. yes of course!" You prayed that your cheeks weren't as red as you feared they might be as you nodded.

There was enough space inside the compartment, your suitcase was pushed under your seat and the bench across from you had been free, but you felt the need to look like you would make room for him.

Since there was nothing in the way, really, all you did was pull the bag next to you closer and kick away a piece of lint that stuck to the carpet. 

"Thank you," the man slipped inside, coat, bag, and another suitcase dangling from his long arms.

You tried to look busy and lifted your book high up to your face while he stowed his suitcase away, a sleek dark blue leather one that unlike yours had no stickers on it or clothes sticking out. Then he entangled the coat from the bag to hang it on the door before he turned and stared at you. 

"Can… can I help you?" you asked when he remained silently scrutinizing you.

His eyes were an icy hue of blue and you would have compared them to the snowy weather outside, cold and unmoving, if there weren't the slightest hints of nervousness in them. 

"I don't want to inconvenience you any further but" – he swallowed and lifted a hand to brush some hair away, revealing the faintest of blushes on his high cheekbones– "I fear that I can't stomach traveling backward very well. Would you mind switching places or I could sit beside-"

"It's fine!" you interrupted him. Just him standing there seemed to affect the man quite a bit, he was swaying even though there was no movement, and what harm would it cause you to switch places?

You quickly gathered your back, closing the book with your thumb in between to mark the page you had left on and smiled at him as you sat down on the other side. "It's no problem at all, I have no preferences where I like to sit."

The upholstery was chilly under you and your legs groaned as you moved them for those few steps for the first time in hours instead of just folding them over each other

The man sat down, mumbling a soft "Thank you". His legs were long enough to brush against yours before he angled them toward the window, his slender hands resting on his lap. 

Silence fell just like the snow, with the man growing as still as a statue, his eyes hefted outside the window, and you finding a comfortable position to get back to your book.

Despite your best efforts to concentrate on the poetry, your mind couldn't stop straying to the man.

He must be one of the first-class-traveler, you would have noticed him on your short walks through the train whenever you got bored or had grown restless. 

His hair stood out, worn long enough to brush past his shoulders and over the cream-knitted sweater he wore, and then there were his eyebrows, the only dark spot of color in a face that could have been cut out of marble. He certainly looked expensive. He made the impression of a man who owned his own – equally perfect – bust.

He suddenly turned his head, not by much but he caught you looking at him nonetheless. Like a deer in headlights, your mouth simply fell open in a forgotten lie to excuse yourself for staring.

Thankfully he didn't comment on it, instead, his rosé lips curved into a smile.

"I'm Thranduil, by the way. I think I should tell you so that you have a name to complain about the stranger who not only stormed into your compartment but took your seat as well" He held out his hand. 

You took it after a relieved breath. His fingers were cold, his grip firm.  "Nice to meet you Thranduil," you introduced yourself and noted how his fingers flitted over your racing pulse point at your wrist, "Don't worry, I'd be a fool to moan about having a conversation partner, you've done nothing but turn this boring journey interesting"

"Ah, but you haven't realized how awful I am at small talk. I make a dreadful conversationalist," he admitted with a laugh and let go of your hand.

"We could simply skip that part then," you offered boldly and finally closed your book in your lap. "Tell me, what stop did you get on?"

He arched an eyebrow at you and rested his elbows on the table between you, placing his chin on the intertwined fingers. "What? You want to know where I came from and not were I'm going?" 

You shook your head, "No, I'll see where you have to get off, this is much more interesting."

Thranduil looked at you for a moment, his eyes taking you in like he wanted to figure you out. Then he huffed, giving in. "I got on right at the first stop," –you smiled, encouraging him to continue talking, which he did, his lips twitching to a smirk– "I stayed in Laketown with a friend over the holidays, but I didn't want to impose on him any longer."

"So you brought this weather with you?" You grinned.

"Oh, one hundred percent," he said, sounding so serious that you nearly giggled, "I had so much fun shoveling snow every morning for ten days that I simply wanted to continue at home." Thranduil tipped his head to the side, examining you once again. "And you?"

"God no, I don't get to pick up any tools while I'm on vacation," you said, knowing full well that's not what the question was about.

"No?" 

"No," you sighed, "Try being the youngest at the family reunion. I'm glad my parents let me shower and dress myself. Gosh, I think they would've cried if I even thought about helping with the snow."

Amusement lit up his face, lifting all his sharp features. "Tell that to my friend's little one. She's a fierce thing; knocking at my door at sunrise all dressed up and threatening me with her shovel that I better be outside before she had to come again."

"Oh my! Say, whatever was she threatening to do instead?"

Thranduil chuckled and shook his head, "I didn't stay long enough in bed to find out." 

A knock sounded from the door, interrupting the conversation as an older woman opened your compartment. "Hiya, loves. May I offer you some tea? Dreadful weather outside and with the heating back there gone completely, we don't want ya to catch a cold," she said.

"Ye–"

"We'll take two cups," Thranduil's directive voice overshadowed yours, there was an authority in it that even you wouldn't want to cross. He was already pulling a fancy black wallet out of his pockets, which produced a fresh note that gave no room to argue or chip in. "Keep the change," he said while the train service employee shuffled inside and placed a tablet on the table between you.

"Thank you, Sir Oropherion!" She beamed at him and slipped the note through the buttons of her blouse, "You're always too kind!" Then she turned to you and lowered her voice in a faux-whisper: "He's just as handsome as he's single. But you didn't hear that from ol' me." 

Thranduil scoffed, though you could see a faint blush on his cheeks. "You are a horrible gossip, Hilda! Go bother some of the other passengers or they'll freeze to death."

A little bit louder and glaring toward Thranduil, she added: "A shame his attitude is like the weather; he could use a sweetheart like you.

With a last wink, she turned and left you to stare after her, wondering what just happened.

"Impossible, that woman." 

Thranduil's low rumble pulled you back to him, leaving that poor – now again shut – door alone before your eyes drilled a hole through the wood in search of an explanation.  

The man across from you didn't offer you one either, instead, he was reaching for one of the silver spoons that the woman, Hilda, had given to you as well as a cup filled with milk and a small tower of cookies. 

Somehow you had the feeling this wasn't what the other customers would get but rather a gesture of whatever fondness the woman pledged to the blonde, who used the tiny tongs to drop two cubes of sugar into his cup.

"So," you said and cleared your throat. Thranduil looked up, nearly killing you on the spot with the daggers in his eyes daring you to speak on the matter. Of course, who would you be if you shied away because of that? "She seemed lovely. A friend of yours?"

"No. No, she's not," Thranduil said. He pushed the other cub toward you, encouraging you to take from the all-paid-for beverage. 

You wrapped both hands around it, marveling how beautifully and frail the cup looked and felt, and after taking a small sip, you smiled benevolently and waited for Thranduil to continue. 

He rolled his eyes, admitting defeat in his thickheadedness of remaining aloof. "I travel this route to Laketown quite a lot. Once a month, sometimes two or three times, or whenever my schedule allows me to actually. That woman made it her personal mission to get on my last nerve; chatting to me and leaving me sweets and tea without me asking for it. After a while, I could at least get her to accept my money for it. She's keen on finding me my soulmate so I no longer travel this much alone."

"Aw, but that's cute," you said and drank another sip of the hot tea. You didn't know what burned more, the tea or Thranduil's hardened eyes, "What? She looks out for you; the journey is long and she just doesn't want to be lonely." 

"Whyever you feel the need to defend her is unfathomable," he scoffed as if you taking Hilda's side was the most outrageous thing he'd ever heard, "You don't even know if her accusations are true– if I'm lonely. Maybe I like traveling alone!" Thranduil placed the cup back onto the tray with such an energetic movement, that it clinked. His lips twitched.

"That…" you started and nodded toward the cup, "was far too defensive. Why, Thranduil, it's no shame to admit to something, especially not to a stranger." His expression was still unreadable though the sharp line of his jaw protruded even more like he was biting down on his teeth. You made sure to keep your tone lighthearted: "Dare I say this is even the perfect chance to get it off your chest? Who knows if we will see each other again. Time to spill all your deep, dark and dirty secrets."

He fixated you with his cold blue eyes. Your words had left an impression on him, that much was clear and you would even go so far to say he was considering them. 

Thranduil made a sound close to a "Humpf!" and you smiled and nodded, pushing him evidently over the edge for he rolled his eyes, clasped his hands together and leaned back into the cushions.

"Very well," he sighed though clicked his tongue as he saw your satisfied smirk, "You are right, traveling alone can–" lifting one finger, he punctuated the word "get a bit lonely. Not to say it's like that every time but I find that this conversation, despite the uncalled-for nosiness on behalf of my private life, makes it a lot more enjoyable than the hours I spent in the first class."

"Aww," you waved off in false modesty, "that's such a sweet way of saying I basically rescued you from a death of boredom."

"Bit of an overstatement"

"Okay, first-class, no need to knock my ego down like that." 

"Anyone ever tells you how cheeky you are?"

You smiled brightly, "All the poor, single, and handsome men I chat up on these travels."

Thranduil laughed out and shook his head more for himself than anything else. He extended his hand towards his cup once more, coinciding with the moment you brought your tea to your lips.

As your gazes met over the rising steam of porcelain, the black tea seemed to carry a subtle sweetness reminiscent of the shared smile between you, if only for a fleeting moment.

Or maybe it was the sugar, combined with the subtle loneliness that was your own travel companion nowadays, a constant bitterness coating your tongue. 

No matter what, another sip of tea flushed it down. 

"Now," Thranduil cleared his throat and dabbed the sleeve of his sweater at the corner of his mouth where a small drop of tea rested next to a shy smile. The tea disappeared – the smile stayed. "Do you want to tell me where you are going?" 

The answer was simple, you just had to tell him the name of your station, but you hesitated. 

This felt too good to be true, and maybe, if you disappeared without giving him any real information, there wouldn't be the urge to keep your eyes open when you arrived home, hoping he would be looking for that mystery woman he met on the train. 

Before the moment passed for far too long to be deemed anything but awkward, the train jolted. First, there was this one tug, then another one, and then, right when you looked up at Thranduil and understanding passed across his face like a ghost, appearing and disappearing right again, the wheels set in motion.

"Seems like we're off again," Thranduil said quietly, turning his face to the window.

He cleared his throat and you watched him swallow, not breaking away from the fuzziness outside that mirrored what you felt in your stomach right now. He was beautiful, even with that sadness settling heavy on his shoulders.

Why you couldn't just offer a piece of yourself now that he has given you some of him, that you didn't understand yourself because this trip had been the loveliest in a long time, the conversation quick and easy and nothing like the pestering questions about your romantic life that your brothers and your mother had poured over you, and while yes, you just met him, there was a connection between you. 

More than strangers on a train.

And you wanted it, so so much.

To have someone by your side wherever you go. 

"Thranduil–" you spoke so suddenly you not only startled Thranduil; the sound of your own voice frightened you as well.

"Yes?"

"This thing working again? Ah yes, now yer can hear me 'gain. Darn line cut off for a moment there. Next stop, Mirkwood Central Station, arriving in 'bout five minutes. We apologize for the delay 'n hope y'all get to your destination safely. To all those leavin' us: Remember to grab all your things before ya go. Hope to see y'all again real soon." 

The rest of the sentence died on your lips as you listened to the announcement. How they managed to be on time when you needed another delay, another moment to sort out your thoughts was an unwanted miracle.

Right when you wanted to panic and quickly pack up the book you hadn't opened up again, Thranduil got to it first.

"Five… five minutes?" he gasped and jumped out of his seat, knocking his long legs into the table resulting in you both reaching for the rattling cups trying to stop them from crashing down, hands brushing just enough for you to nearly smash the pot of sugar away as well.

"Wait. This is your stop?" 

Thranduil nodded, already throwing his coat on. "Yes, oh it's such a shame! I had hoped we had more time to finish our tea." He threw a sad glance at the half-empty cups; although the switch to look at you spoke of a far greater regret than simply leaving two cups of tea behind.

A laugh burst out of you, taking both of you by such surprise that you wondered if it had come off as discouraging or far worse: like you were making fun of him.

You hastened to explain: "This is my stop as well!" – the wide smile that shot to his eyes turned into a smirk – "This is me, Mirkwood Central. So if you want–" you interrupted yourself by standing up and grabbing your jacket, "we could get a tea later?"

"Yes!" Thranduil said quickly, "Yes, I would love to. Do you have any plans for the rest of the evening?" 

You copied his smile. "The rest of the evening? Bit eager, aren't we?" You were teasing, mostly, because that seemed to affect that glimmer of playfulness in Thranduil's eyes that made them look like molten silver, but you couldn't deny that you wouldn't have canceled all your plans if you'd had any to begin with, to stay in Thranduil's company. 

"I will gladly take every bit of time you can offer me," Thranduil said, "Any man would be this eager to get to know you."

You were still blushing when you stepped into the narrow corridor of the train, the tight space and crowding of passengers waiting to exit as well making it impossible to stand anywhere else but close together, Thranduils taller body a warm presence in your back and whenever you swayed his large hand found your shoulder to steady you and his amused chuckling reverberated in your stomach.

The train finally made its way into the bustling train station, the smoke of other trains clouding up the window and excitement like only arriving at a special destination could evoke in one filled the air inside the train, the hushed talking growing as other passengers saw relatives or friends or lovers waving to them, children pressing their faces against the glass or tried to run past you with their parents following close behind.

One particular stormy child knocked you straight into Thranduil as the doors opened and cold air greeted you while your face lightened up with a blush. 

"I hope I won't lose you," you said, jokingly but the air was stolen right out of your lungs as Thranduils gloved hand grabbed yours.

"Don't worry," he said and helped you step onto the metal platform, watching carefully as you hopped onto the platform. He looked beautiful in the evening lights of Mirkwood Station, white snowflakes landing gently on his long lashes. "I won't let that happen!"

©itsonlydana 2024

[esmerulia-chantelle]

5 + 1 : Fluster

Summary: 5 times you (unconsciously) fluster Azul and the one time he (intentionally) flusters you back.

Notes: Suggestive themes. Established relationship. Azul calls you sweetheart. Reader is implied to be smaller than Azul (just for that one part about clothes).

A/N: I remember I was thinking about my persona and Azul's dynamic when I made this >/////<

A repost from my old blog @escha-evenstar. Edited.

Fives Times You (Unconsciously) Fluster Azul

Complimenting him sincerely

"Wow! I know you're a farsighted thinker but I'm still impressed you thought that far ahead. You're really amazing, Azul!" You said gleefully as you complimented your boyfriend.

He cleared his throat as he adjusted the glasses perched on his nose. It was but a failed attempt to hide the pink blush creeping up on his cheeks. "Well, it is to be expected, sweetheart. After all, preparation is the key to ensure success. And I won't tolerate any sort of failure, not as long as I am here."

You giggled at him. "Hehe~ I really admire that about you. I'm so lucky to have met you, Azul. You're just so clever and hardworking! Not to mention you look very attractive, both in human form and merform if I might add. Also..."

Somehow, you ended up saying a lot of things about him as you continued to sing genuine praises, unaware that Azul's face was turning a deeper shade of crimson for each compliment that come out of your mouth.

"Ah! Your face is red! Are you okay?"

No, I am not.

Not after you said all those things about him. He was a blushing mess.

Saying "I love you" unexpectedly

Azul was having a pleasant conversation with you as you strolled around town on your date. You soon found a bench that was shaded under a tree and decided to take a rest from walking. He was in the middle of talking about something when you suddenly interrupted.

"Zul, can I just.. say something?"

"Of course. Do you also have comments about the food? I personally think-"

"I love you," you said with complete love and adoration in your eyes.

Azul blinked at you. A second passed before his face blushed a bright crimson hue.

"I—" He moved his hand to cover part of his flushed face.

He cleared his throat before responding to you shyly. "I love you too, sweetheart."

How could you say that out of nowhere? And with such an expression too?

Azul felt his heart might just burst out of his chest.

Sending him a picture with him on your mind

Azul was sorting through some papers and shipments at the Mostro Lounge when he heard his phone buzz repeatedly with a customized ringtone, indicating it was you. He immediately stopped working to check his phone.

3 Notifications?

He opened his messenger app, seeing you at the top with your nickname "Sweetheart" beside your profile picture, and began reading through your messages.

Sweetheart: Zuuuuul~ 🥰

Sweetheart: Hi hi! Hope you're doing okay there. Remember not to overwork yourself.

Sweetheart: We're strolling by the beach right now. It's such a beautiful day for a walk!

You were currently hanging out with your friends. Azul would have loved to join you but needed to finish some work first. He saw three dots on the speech bubble, meaning you were typing another message.

Sweetheart: Look!

Sweetheart has sent an attachment.

Upon clicking on the file, Azul felt his heart beat faster and his face flushing slightly. It was a selfie of you showing the beach as your background. Your hair flowed gently with the breeze. Your skin glowing with the sun cascading over it. Your eyes shining bright like gemstones. And your smile as lovely as ever.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Sweetheart: Wish you were here with me. I miss youuuu~ 🩷🩷🩷

He instantly saved the photo of you, storing it inside a private album on his phone filled with dozens of pictures of you, before typing a reply.

Looking at the album, Azul felt himself blush some more from how you always think about him wherever you were.

How lucky he was to have that privilege.

Giving him a surprise kiss

"Here's your tea! Time for a break, Azul," you said as you poured him a cup and set down the fancy saucer with matching teacup on his desk.

Azul, however, was still scribbling on the contract laid in front of him. "Thank you, sweetheart. Let me just finish this last one."

You were pouring another cup of tea for yourself when you remembered something.

"Ah! I was supposed to bring in some biscuits too. Let me just get them." You were on your way to the door when Azul asked you to pass him a file, saying he just needed to check something. You grabbed the folder and gave it to him.

"Here you go! When I get back, I hope to see you're finished with that and taking your break," you pouted.

Azul chuckled at your cute face. "But of course, sweetheart. Anything for you," he said, which made you smile.

"Hehe~ Yey! I'll go get the biscuits now."

Azul thought you would leave after that, but he noticed how you inched even closer to him, and suddenly your lips were on his face, right on top of his beauty mark.

A pinkish hue dusted his cheeks and the tips of his ear.

It felt like an eternity before you pulled back and walked out of the room, saying, "I'll be back!"

He heard the door close, and his hand suddenly lost its grip on the fishbone pen he was using.

He might just take his break right now.

Wearing his clothes

After a busy day at the lounge, Azul was glad to finish early and finally retire to his quarters for the night. He turned the handle on the door open as he called out to you. "Sweetheart?"

He was expecting you to be there, sitting on his bed, patiently waiting for him as usual, before eagerly getting off the bed and rushing to greet him with a kiss and a hug.

But you weren't.

There was no hug. No kisses. No you.

His eyes searched around the room before settling to the bathroom. Azul heard the door click as it slowly opened.

"Sweetheart! There you-”" His sentence was cut off as his eyes widened upon seeing your form.

There you were, wearing his white dress shirt. His piece of clothing looked like a short dress on your body. A few buttons on top were undone, exposing some skin.

Azul doesn't normally curse, but—

F*ck.

He feels the heat rise on his cheeks rapidly as he gazed at you. Stunned.

"Oh! Azul! I.. wasn't expecting you back yet." Your face show you were startled at seeing him.

At closer inspection, Azul noticed you were wearing purple eyeliner like he was. He couldn't help but continue to stare in astonishment.

"Uhm.. surprise?" You let out a soft chuckle as you brushed your hair behind your ear. "I wanted to dress up like you and wear your clothes as a surprise, but it seems I wasn't able to finish."

Azul was as still as a statue that sank to the bottom of the sea. His blue eyes never leaving your form and his face blushing an even brighter red the longer he stared.

"Zul?" You asked softly upon not hearing a response, head tilting to the side.

His mind was blank except for a single thought.

How are you so cute and sexy at the same time?

...and the One Time He (Intentionally) Flusters You Back

You and Azul were lying down on the bed, each doing your own thing. Although no words were said, you were basked in comfortable silence. However, you were completely unaware of the scheming thoughts of your lover.

While lying on your side and playing games with your phone, you suddenly felt arms wrap around you from behind.

"Sweetheart~"

You instantly shut your phone's screen off, placed it to the side, before turning around to face him. "Finished with work for today?"

"Mhm. I just.. have something in mind. Do you remember when I said that what's mine is yours?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"And you know Ashengrotto is my surname, right?" He asked, to which you nodded with a hum.

"Then that means my surname is yours too, isn't it? Y/N Ashengrotto does have a nice ring to it," he said with a teasing grin.

You felt your face heat up as you blushed.

"W-well.. uhm.. that does sound nice.. but, we're not.. married yet," you said nervously as you felt flustered from his words.

"Yet. Yet is the keyword, sweetheart," he said while tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Maybe not now, but we're bound to marry eventually. Maybe I should talk to someone and have your name changed so you could start getting used to it. Hm?" He was looking more smug by the second. Deviously but attractively smug.

"Azul! You're teasing me again." You covered your face with both hands feeling embarrassed.

I must look completely red by now.

"Aw. Don't hide your beautiful face from me, sweetheart," he said as he grabbed both of your wrists with a single hand, exposing your flushed face. "Besides, you know I'm only speaking the truth." He moved your hand closer to his lips and gave the ring on your ring finger a kiss while looking directly into your eyes.

Could I possibly be any redder than now?

You immediately turned your body to face the other way.

"It's bedtime now! You should sleep! I love you! Night night!" You said your words so quickly that Azul almost didn't pick it up. You only heard him chuckle behind you, but he didn't seem to have any plans of teasing you further.

Or, so you thought.

He wrapped an arm around your waist before muttering close to your ear. "It's too early for bedtime, sweetheart." He gave the sensitive skin behind your ear a gentle kiss and slowly trailed his soft lips down to your neck, before giving it a rough bite and sucking hard on your skin.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he marked you with a love bite.

"Did that feel good, sweetheart?" Azul asked huskily.

You only nodded in response with your face flushed pink. Azul saw this and let out a low chuckle.

"You look so cute like that. Let's see if I can make you blush some more, hm?" He teased as he continued kissing and nipping around your neck. "And don't forget to make those sweet noises for me too."

Masterlist here!

If you enjoyed this: likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. Thank you for reading!

[wooahaes]

cake crumbles

pairing: non-idol!woozi x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au. some slight comfort.

warnings: anxious jihoon who just wants everything to go well. proposal mentions. food.

word count: 1.3k~

daisy's notes: he :( <3

“Okay. We can fix this. It’s not too late.” 

The only things holding Jihoon together right now was both Soonyoung and Vernon’s presence right now. But he hadn’t stopped staring at where your birthday cake had been dropped onto the floor, smashed into a mess of blue and white icing. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to clean up the mess in Soonyoung’s apartment. Soonyoung was on his knees now, tossing it into a bag to be disposed of properly once it was all done. It had all happened too quickly. One minute he’d been moving it to a different space on the counter, and the next he’d been lying on the floor, body aching from his slip, and the cake was destroyed. The little party he’d planned was hours away, and he’d ordered this cake specifically for you…

“I think grocery stores do plain buttercream cakes,” Vernon said, fingers covered in blue as he dropped another chunk of cake into the trash. “It’s not as special, but we can get them to write her name on it.”

“She likes those cakes,” Soonyoung nodded. “That’s what we did for my birthday last year.” 

Right, but those weren’t made for you. Jihoon had gone out of his way to slowly figure out what you’d love the most. He sighed, and moved to get paper towels to wet and clean up the remaining icing. “I don’t know. I wanted to get her something special…”

Vernon looked up. “It’s just her birthday. I know she’s special, but—”

Immediately, Soonyoung started to smack his arm. He shook his head, and Vernon slowly connected the dots.

“Oh.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh! Dude—Today?”

Jihoon quietly nodded, then stopped. “I mean—Not technically?” He sighed, leaning back. “I was going to ask her when we went home. It’ll be after midnight, so it’d be tomorrow, and—”

Vernon nodded. “Alright. Look,” he pushed himself off the floor. “I know some people. Maybe one of ‘em could help do us a favor.” 

Something inside of him seemed to crumple like tissue paper at how easily Vernon seemed to take charge right now.  That should be what he was doing. You were his girlfriend, his love, and yet he couldn’t seem to drag himself out of the spiralling thoughts that he’d fucked this all up. He knew what you would say now, though: that it was fine. That you didn’t need a birthday cake to be happy. But today needed to be perfect for you. You treated him with so much kindness, always so gentle but clear with how much you loved him. Jihoon wasn’t always the loudest with how much he loved the people in his life, but he hoped that his love was clear, too. This was supposed to be part of his big gesture, the thing that screamed to the skyline that he loved you wholeheartedly. The other part was the box still tucked away in his pants pocket, even now. He carried it with him most days, just in case he ever felt the inclination to forego his plans…

Maybe he should have. Then he wouldn’t be so stressed right now making sure everything went right. 

Vernon had already stepped away, calling someone to see what they could do on such short notice. Soonyoung, on the other hand, had helped him wipe up the remaining icing. The floor needed to be mopped soon anyway, and then the scene of the crime would be entirely taken care of. By the time it was all taken care of, Vernon already had a name and a place to go—which led to Soonyoung pushing Jihoon toward him, saying he could handle setting up the rest. 

He’d described as basic a cake as he could: vanilla, decorated with buttercream in blue and white, with maybe some flowers on it if the baker could swing it. All it needed to say was ‘Happy birthday’ and your name. The easiest thing that they could make, he would accept as long as it tasted good. With the order placed and a time given to pick it up, Jihoon stepped back out onto the street with Vernon at his heels.

“So…” He’d soon fallen into step beside him. “It’s not just about the cake, is it?”

Jihoon slowly nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. Anything to look more casual instead of the nervous storm he was inside. “If I don’t make it right… Then I’m going to feel like I failed her.”

“You could literally show up with just a thing of Oreos and she’ll love you.” Vernon looked over. “It’s fine to be nervous, but I don’t think there’s anything you could do that could upset her.” 

“I know, but…”

Vernon bumped into him, just to get his attention back on him. “You two love each other a lot, dude. It’s gonna be alright.” 

Jihoon could only hope that it would be.

Hours passed quicker than Jihoon expected them to. He and Vernon had returned to Soonyoung’s apartment and helped him set up for your little birthday party. Seungcheol had thankfully agreed to drive the cake over, careful as he could be, while Jihoon had to return home to you. He’d fed you this plan to go out for a movie and then dinner, hand hovering over his pocket. The box was right there. Maybe it’d be better for him to leave it somewhere safe here, but he felt better carrying it on him. 

“Jihoony?” You had turned from where you were putting on an earring—one of the ones he bought you last year for Christmas. There’s a playful lift to your voice, smiling at him. “Everything okay?”

He nodded, making his way over to you. “Everything’s perfect,” he said. Yet the pit in his stomach didn’t seem to shrink at all. He had hoped that saying it aloud would do something, and yet…

You fastened the earring into place, and then reached forward to cup his face. “Jihoony.” You let out a long sigh. “I know.”

“You… know?”

“One,” you said, “Cheol accidentally let the party secret slip when I asked him if he wanted to join us for dinner. And two…” You shut your eyes for a moment. “Remember the other week when you came home exhausted from work? You changed, ate dinner, and then went straight to bed…”

Oh no. Oh no. He swore he had tucked the ring box into his bag after he drove home. “So, you…”

With a soft kiss against his lips, you leaned back. Your chapstick tasted like birthday cake, all too fitting for today. “Whenever you ask, I’m going to say yes.” 

Jihoon met your eyes. “Even if it’s tonight?”

“Maybe wait until we’re alone,” you said, as if he hadn’t always planned for that. “But yes,” you giggled. “Tonight included.”

Jihoon reached for your hands, taking them into his own. The words already started to pour out of him before he could even think twice, “I dropped your birthday cake earlier. We got a replacement, but it isn’t the one I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.” 

Instead of saying anything else, all you did was step back as you laughed. He’d fallen in love with your laugh long ago, but hearing it now he swore he was falling in love with the sound all over again. When you faced him again, you were smiling harder than before, even more radiant this time.

“As long as I get to enjoy it with you,” you said, “I’m going to be happy.” 

All at once, his anxieties disappeared. He leaned in, lips brushing against yours for just a few seconds. He knew he would kiss you properly once the two of you were home again. But for now, he’d leave you with something fleeting, just to leave both of you wanting more. “Happy birthday,” he said for the second time today, hands resting at your waist. “I love you so much.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[bedoballoons]

oh well if you didn’t get itI basically said that move to will probably not be able to control mui because he only appears to turn into ai but it’s just an illiusion.

for my request it was another mitsuri like us x character but we are sad about our past.

SPOILER FOR SEASON 3!!!!!

Due to mitsuri eating so much food, having be reallly strong and have pink and green hair. She was called a pig and one EX said that only a cow or pig would ever marry her which made her dye her hair black and eat 9x less than she needed. And when she found another partner she realized she don’t keep on pretending. One headcannon can I have about her is that you do this she gained an eating disorder. Where she will not eat as much as she needs.

can the characters be: wanderer,albedo,diluc,kaeya,xiao and one of your choice. I love your works and also My cat just had 3 KITTYS!!! I plan on naming them scarameow,kokkie and coco.🐱🐱🍫🍪

Ohhh! You know I really seem to write this show alot and I've still never seen it... :p CONGRATULATIONS on kittens!! Those are such cute names!! I hope they are all doing well ❤️❤️

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Mitsuri like reader~༺}

CW: Angsty! Reader has a eating disorder, has been called a pig and is self conscious about weight! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon chérie, my love,

A/n: I just wanted to say that if you've ever been called a pig, or cow or made fun of for your weight, please don't listen to them. Your body is beautiful and me personally I think you're amazing wether you're skinnier than average or heavier than average. You are gorgeous! ❤️

(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, Xiao, Wanderer, and Kaeya!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

Diluc set a plate in front of you, sitting in the chair across from you with a hopeful gleam in his red eyes...,"I haven't seen you eat anything all day...please, just a few bites. It's your favourite, fresh out of the oven." You looked down at the fresh warm food, the wonderful smell making your stomach churn unhappily, it was such a fatty dish...

Suddenly the harsh words of others started playing in your head, reminding you why you wanted to loose weight so badly..

Pig

Cow

Fatty

You pushed his cooking away, unable to even take a nibble, "I'm not hungry...sorry Diluc. It smells amazing though..." you tried to smile at him, but he clearly wasn't happy with your response. He took your hand into his and placed a kiss on your fingers, whispering against them with sorrow in his voice, "You are beautiful the way you are...please, don't listen to them."

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney hurried up to you, holding a freshly baked croissant in his hands that he'd gotten for the two of you to share, silently hoping you'd eat it with him...that all of his suspicions weren't true, "Mon chérie! Looks yummy hmm? Want to sit down for a bite?" His eyes met yours and he simply couldn't imagine how someone could say anything horrible about you, you...were the most gorgeous person in his eyes and he wished so desperately he could show you that.

"I don't mind if we sit and chat while you eat! I'm not really in the mood for a croissant right now, thank you though." You tried your best to sound sweet and truthful, feeling so guilty you had to lie to him...but you wanted to be perfect for him and loosing weight seemed to be the only way...at least in everyone else's eyes.

"...my love, I'll get you anything you wish to eat.."

"I'm just...not hungry right now Lyney."

He grasped your wrist softly, stopping you from walking away so he could kiss your lips...he'd find a way to show you your own beauty, he'd tell you every hour on the dot if he had to...

𑁍༄Albedo:

Albedo bit his lip, for once in his life he had encountered a problem he just had no idea how to solve, he thought of you as the true meaning of life, the very being that made him want to get out of bed every morning and show his love for you any way he could, a inspiration that never ceased to look perfect and yet...you didn't feel that way about yourself...

How could it be, how could someone break your heart...call you a pig for enjoying food...a cow, it bothered him to no end and he just couldn't wrap his head around that cruelty..."Klee and I made cookies...they are chocolate chip...with a few sprinkles, would you like some?" He sat next to you, Klee following after him, "Ohhh please try one! The sprinkles make them extra yummy!" She looked at you with such a cute face...that for a split second you considered it...they smelled so good and even with sprinkles you could tell they'd be delicious..but, you felt sick at the thought of taking bite...

"Awe next time Klee, I'm...not hungry right now..."

Albedo sighed...how was he going to fix this...

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao was having a hard time understanding your situation, it didn't make sense, why would the pathetic humans who couldn't compare to you in the slightest tell you such awful things...and why would you ever believe them? He was so worried about you, your normally plump cheeks sunken in slightly and your happy smile gone, you didn't enjoy eating...in fact he almost never saw you eat at all anymore.

He had to remind you every two minutes, just to take a few bites and even then you'd refuse, "You should eat...you need to. Please." You'd look away, slightly angry...slightly sad and just say you didn't want to, and it wasn't like he was going to force you to, but he wished there was a way he could help. He'd just have to keep telling you what was true...clearing their sick words from your mind with his sweet sentiments,

"You are the true meaning of every beautiful thing in this world, those mortals are threatened by it and seek to destroy you because of it...don't listen to them."

"You look perfect in my eyes..."

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"Why are you listening to those idiots! They probably wouldn't know what beauty was if it slapped them in the face! You are...ughhh" Wanderer groaned in annoyance, knowing full well yelling wasn't going to help you...but he was just so angry, how dare anyone bully you like that, get under your skin. "I'm sorry....I didn't mean to shout, I just, you can't believe what they are saying! Hell if someone like me, who's never loved anyone before...who never gave a damn what people looked like...could fall so goddamn hard for you, you have to be goregous. I will say that as many times as I have to!"

You fought the urge to cry, he didn't usually get so emotional over things like this, but he was worried about you and...for good reason, "Wanderer, I'm fine.." You tucked a piece of your pink hair behind you ear, trying to hide from his prying eyes that starred daggers at you, did you truly think he'd buy that? "Don't lie to me. You're not fine, you're hurting yourself...making yourself sick. Just tell me what to do! How do I help! What do I say...you're fucking perfect to me...isn't that enough?"

𑁍༄Kaeya:

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Oh...are you sure you don't want just a bite. I've gone and ordered two, you wouldn't want me to have to eat both would you? I'd surely become ill with a stomach ache.." Kaeya scooched the plate in your direction, using every persuasive method he could think of...he'd already tried complimenting you over and over, flirting with you more often, showering you with kisses and love, but you still wouldn't enjoy a meal with him. This was his last resort...

"Kaeya..."

"Pretty please...just a little would make me so happy..."

You sighed, thinking about how much you'd eaten...or more rather, how much you hadn't eaten and took a small bite, the flavours tasting good, but not like they used to...it was difficult to even swallow. Kaeya seemed so proud though, so...hopeful.

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[theladyofbloodshed]

Epilogue

Thank you so much to my Nezriel lovers who have read along with this <3

In five hundred years, his family had learnt that they would find Azriel immovable. Feyre Archeron was still learning that fact. Her barrage of questions continued, even after Rhysand and the others had warned her off of it. He could turn himself to stone quite easily. It was his job to crack secrets from others so he knew how to bury his own deep and not reveal them.

‘Where is my sister?’ Feyre tried again, as she intercepted him on the stairs.

‘Not here.’

It was at least the seventeenth time she had attempted to interrogate him.

She rolled her eyes whilst forcing out a sigh. ‘No more vague answers. Tell me where Nesta is.’

‘It’s none of your concern.’

‘She’s my sister.’

‘She’s my mate,’ Azriel countered.

Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘She is somewhere safe, at least?’

The accusation irked him. Yes, Azriel would keep his mate safe. Did Feyre expect him to dump Nesta in the Illyrian mountains alone to fend for herself?

Carefully, Azriel peeled her fingers from the banister to try and move past her.

‘I could just go in your head to find out, you know.’

Something cold and deadly gripped Azriel’s heart. Even Rhys didn’t go in his head. He lingered at the edges perhaps to pass on a message, but he wouldn’t dare to delve in fully. Azriel wouldn’t let him.

High Lady or not, Feyre had no right to threaten that.

‘You go into my head, Feyre, and you will regret it.’

The very thought of somebody pushing against his mental walls and rifling through the most intimate memories of his life made him feel sick. Azriel had buried his childhood deep into his memories. Even he refused to remember those times. The shadows on his shoulders were poised to strike, making Feyre realise her misspeak.

Colour dotted on her cheeks. ‘I wouldn’t. I only meant. I am worried about Nesta.’

‘She’s safe,’ he said, moving Feyre’s arm to her side and edging past her down the stairs.

These were the kind of conversations that Azriel was protecting Nesta from. Better she was in Illyria with only his mother than to be prodded and pecked here. Nesta didn’t need to be examined or interrogated. Amren was asking him daily when Nesta would return because her magic would need more rigorous training. Rhys had asked in a roundabout way whether anything was to come from the Carranam bond she shared with Eris – to which Azriel asked whether Rhys had hit his head badly during the war. They didn’t need to know that Azriel had been in contact with Eris frequently at Nesta’s request. They were hashing out the details for training her magic through letters as that seemed the best way not to wrap his hands around Eris’ throat and kill him. The snake, of course, was insistent upon Nesta training on Autumn Court ground, claiming that if he was spotted in Illyria and word leaked to his father then his life was in danger. There was not a chance in hell that Azriel was taking Nesta to Eris’ court. He had expected Eris to demand something in payment too. The fact he hadn’t unsettled Azriel more. Perhaps their prolonged contact and the shared magic to his mate was enough of a punishment.

As for his beautiful mate, he saw her usually twice a week, sometimes more often. Azriel savoured every moment with Nesta. With autumn biting into Illyria, they often took walks together beneath the bare trees or followed the stream until her hands became too cold and Azriel would winnow them back. His mother joined them occasionally. If the weather was poor, they’d remain in the house talking or going about their day with the other’s company. Nesta would read curled up with her head on his thigh while Azriel read through reports. His mother would potter between rooms either at her loom or sewing something. It was a steady, peaceful existence. A handful of times, Azriel had stayed the night – but only at Nesta’s request. He wanted her to decide the pace for everything. Their nights together were not spent in solemn silence, but in sudden rushes of passion. Nesta’s hands would scramble at his clothing to strip him bare then they’d kiss and hold each other with such fervour as though they’d never have the chance again. He loved to hear her moan. He lived for it. Nesta with damp hair from bathing, colour flooding her cheeks as she rocked beneath him was fast becoming his favourite view. Azriel could spend the rest of his life between her thighs.

‘Your sister ambushed me again yesterday,’ he said against her sleep-mussed hair.

Nesta made a murmur in acknowledgement as she burrowed against his bare chest in the bed. ‘Tell her that I am on the moon.’

‘Is that where you would like to live? Should I build you a house there?’

‘You’d build me a house?’

‘A palace.’

Azriel wrapped the quilt around her shoulders to keep out the cold as they languished in bed. He had always been an early riser – if he slept at all. It was something new to whittle away the morning in a sleepy haze in bed. He found that he enjoyed it. One of them would make tea then return to the bed. One would forget their drink in their dozy state and it would grow cold. Another would bring breakfast then they’d start their day around noon. It wasn’t every time, but he treasured the mornings with Nesta.

‘Feyre would like you to come to Solstice.’

Nesta let out a breath like she was deflating. There hadn’t been an outright no.

‘I should like to spend the morning with your mother then – if it suits you – come late in the afternoon.’

‘Will you stay the night?’

‘I suppose I can manage that,’ she said. ‘And could you return me to Illyria in the morning – before your snowball battle.’

‘Battle?’

‘I believed it was a serious event.’

Azriel nodded. ‘It is. But a battle suggests that Cass and Rhys have a chance of winning. It will be an annihilation – as it always is.’

Nesta groaned then sat up on the edge of the bed, her bare back exposed to him so Azriel couldn’t resist trailing his fingers along the nubs of her spine.

‘I have a meeting with Lord Evra,’ she announced, yawning and making a show of stretching her arms in the air.

Never in his wildest imaginations could Azriel have predicted he would see a Nesta Archeron so unguarded and carefree around him. After her initial trepidations around nudity and their bodies, she had no problem doing her hair in the mirror completely nude which he was certain was a form of torture for him. He had thought himself unbreakable. For five centuries, Azriel had been called stubborn. With his mate naked in front of him, Azriel quickly crumbled. He’d go to her, kiss her body and take her to the bed at least once more before they began their days. She seemed delighted that he couldn’t resist.

‘How is it progressing?’

‘Well,’ she stated, giving a brisk nod. ‘His sons are… surprisingly nice.’

‘You’ve met them?’

‘Not all,’ she clarified. ‘The younger ones who haven’t married. Ezra and Balthazar.’

Azriel sat up in the bed and raised a brow.

‘Oh, hush. I do not think there is a soul in Illyria who has not heard by now that we are mates.’ She dressed in a simple dress, thick for the cold weather then added extra layers while she spoke. ‘Balthazar will meet me here to walk together.’

He had expected her to attend Storm’s Rest and break down the Camp Lord with her iron spine and quick, clever tongue. Nesta had made Beron Vanserra be quiet and pay attention, so he did not doubt her abilities with Illyrian males either. But, she had surprised him entirely, by confessing that she had gone for a more traditional route. Nesta had baked many items with his mother’s assistance then taken them to Lord Evra to introduce herself. She’d blushed when she admitted she may have mentioned being the Shadowsinger’s mate and the High Lady’s sister to get an audience with him. Azriel did not care whose name she mentioned because this had given her purpose.

‘Will you come again this week?’

‘Yes. Tomorrow evening. Does that suit?’

Nesta inspected her nails. ‘I shall have to check my busy schedule of reading and embroidery, but I’m sure I can manage to see you.’ She leaned across the mattress to kiss him. ‘I must go. Take care.’

From the window, Azriel watched Nesta depart with Balthazar, the son of the Camp Lord. He kept a respectful distance as they walked. The urge to be possessive rankled him but he tamped down on it. Forced it away. He had no reason not to trust Nesta. Whilst he knew what Illyrian males could be like, she was adamant that not all males were the same and Azriel was proof of that.

His mother knocked at the door so Azriel pulled the blankets over his body before welcoming her into the bedroom.

‘Do you remember my friend Marsella?’

‘She’s near Iron Crest?’

His mother nodded and perched on the edge of the bed. ‘Her daughter will have a baby soon. Her husband died in the war. She’s asked if I can be there to help with the delivery and the days after the birth.’

It was common in Illyria for the females in a family to come together for a birth. They would take turns waking with the baby during the night or cook for the mother so she could rest.

‘I can take you.’

His mother smiled brightly then departed to pack a bag before he delivered her to Marsella’s house. The female insisted upon feeding him despite Azriel’s protests then he was given a dress for Nesta because she’d heard much of his mate from his mother then he was needled with questions about his mating bond and when they would move to Illyria and when they would have children and when would they have a mating celebration.

Azriel was quite ready to crawl into a hole when he returned to Velaris. Still, he brought the good news that Nesta would attend their Solstice dinner for Feyre’s birthday so he was left alone from their questions so he could be in peace.

‘Where are the rest of you?’

A shadow curled upon his shoulder but each visit to Illyria left him with less of them. He knew where they were. Curled up at the bottom of Nesta’s bed. He’d claimed she was spoiling them by letting them tuck into the bed next to her so they had responded by absconding from his ownership to be with her.

The following day, Azriel winnowed to Illyria and was greeted by a layer of snow. More was falling heavily with the promise of a cruel winter incoming.

Nesta met him at the door and scolded him for winnowing without a coat or gloves. He found that he liked her fussing. Liked the way she clasped his hands to feel their temperature or rubbed her hands down his arms to warm them up.

‘Come with me,’ she said, taking him by the hand and leading him to the dining room.

Upon the table was a spread of food. Pumpkin soup had been ladled into two bowls with cream spiralling from the centre. Thickly cut, fresh bread was upon a cutting board with a slathering of butter melting into the pockets. Nesta had also made a joint of beef that was ready to fall apart with accompanying buttery potatoes garnished with parsley, an assortment of vegetables, as well as a platter of different pastries and cakes. Candles were scattered throughout, their golden light flickering upon the walls.

‘Nesta.’

A hesitant, almost nervous smile was upon her face.

‘This is me offering you food. You are my mate and I would like to spend all of my life with you, Azriel.’  

He reached for her hand and held it tightly. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I was sure the moment I realised I could lose you during the war. I want a forever with you. We deserve our happiness. We deserve to be together.’

Azriel kissed her deeply so that her body pressed to his. Nesta Archeron was his mate. She had chosen to keep their bond. He clutched her tighter, lifting her off of her feet to spin her.

‘I love you,’ he said, kissing her again.

‘I love you too. Now, eat, before it goes cold.’

They sat beside each other at the table, trying each dish. Azriel couldn’t wait to boast to Rhys that his mate had made a full three-course meal for their mating bond rather than heating up soup.

‘Your mother wrote to me,’ she said casually. ‘She’ll be away for a week, a week and a half. Do you think that’s a substantial amount of time?’

‘You planned this with her.’

Nesta gave a coy smile in response. ‘Marsella’s daughter is due to have a child, but it fell at the perfect time. We might have practised recipes together in anticipation.’

‘You really didn’t need to make all of this for me.’

‘I did,’ she said, most seriously. ‘Of course, I did. You have given so much to me, Az.’

A little thrill went through him at that. It was rare for Nesta to call him anything other than Azriel. Once or twice, she had called him Shadowsinger, but hearing her call him Az did something to him.

‘You have been there for me at my lowest. You have known what I needed before I did. You deserve nothing less than this.’

Her fingers wound through his hair as she leaned across to kiss him.

‘I am grateful to the universe for making me yours. You are the closest to the heavens that I will ever be. I love you,’ Nesta said. ‘And I look forward to spending my life with you, Azriel.’

[loser4loserswhok1ll]

The way you hold your neck.

joe goldberg x reader

mini fic, 3 paragraphs

warnings: dark, stalking, slight nsfw, joe wants you BAD, random non canon stuff as my writing usually has

there will be typos and hardly any capitalization idc

its the way you hold your neck, rubbing the nape with your thumbs, exhausted and tired from work. surely, being a fast food employee isnt that hard, or maybe it is, and Joe just forgot how much it sucked. he wasnt there for long, only 3 months, but he hated it. He's sure you hate it to. the way you sit down onto your sofa, turning on the tv and finding a movie to watch. he needs to find a way to move closer, see what youre watching, its just another way to know you. he moves from his spot across the street and makes his way down, turning onto the street your apartment is on and walking up, spying at what youre watching. its a horror, hes trying hard to spot what type. a few moments pass, and he recognizes the scene. youre watching Halloween. of course, a classic, and youre a classic horror fan. your house is dimly lit almost all the time and you check over your shoulders like youre being hunted. maybe you are. do you know youre in somewhat of a horror yourself? if you consider this kind of thing as scary. its gotta be, joes staring through your window at nearly 10 pm, staring at you at nearly 10 pm. you would be in real danger if this were anyone but joe, you know that, right? he wouldnt hurt you, but other filthy, animalistic, sex addicted men would. youre safe with joe. maybe this isnt a horror, but a romance. shakespearean, you just dont know it yet.

shot out of his thoughts, joe notices you shift, turning to the window, and he ducks. god, you better not have seen him. this can't end so soon. you still have so much to show him, he still has so much to learn. in an awkward duck position, joe walks down the street until hes cleared of your sight. he moves back to the opposite street, nearly in the bushes of the parallel apartment. youre back to watching your movie, hes back to watching you. the way you tuck yourself under that throw blanket, it looks soft and cozy. it'd be cozier if joe were also under it with you. you wouldnt need the blanket if he were in there, he'd warm you up. you start to slump down, further into those plush cushions of your futon. he wonders what they feel like, are they even comfy? he'd make them comfy if you asked him to sit.

this continued for what felt like hours, but the movie wasnt even done. you were asleep, and joe was tired. it was nearly midnight now, but he couldnt leave. theres so much to look at. your position, the way you sleep, if you'll wake up and turn the tv off. youre his favorite channel, playing through your apartment window screen. he was like a toddler sitting right in front, burning his eyes from the screens staticy graphics. those red green dots you only see when youre super close. he was locked in on you. maybe tomorrow he could start planning your meeting, imagining it, dreaming it. it would lead to imagining so much more, and hed be wide awake taking care of himself. you do things to him. he cant think about that now. because right now, hes still just staring at your sleeping form through your windows. and he needs to sleep too. tomorrow night, he hopes youll do the same. its like a routine, like you already live together, like you already know youre his.