#I do not know how to draw a chair :D

[gremlin-boah]

:')

Remember that one mission?

[troutfishy]

for @jei-rifni 's 3k dtiys!!

text under readmore:

"Did you know?

'Prions' are misfolded proteins that cause neurodegenerative diseases that are 100% untreatable and fatal!

Prions are very difficult to destroy and are transmitted by consuming infected tissue, like the brain!

It's possible that prions are accumulating in the environment due to their resistance to denaturation. Fun!"

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a fem!reader who instead of not wanting kids can’t have kids?

This is a popular request, anon. I've had several submissions from various users. Since the theme/idea is similar, I thought I would combine them into one.

Heavy angst ahead, folks. I decided not to sugarcoat with this one. It's heartbreaking. It's sad. And yes, there is comfort and love mixed in.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, angst, infertility, pregnancy, miscarriage, mention of surgical procedure, emotional hurt/comfort, implied abortion/d&c, minor blood

Word Count: 900

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

This time, it sticks.

Somehow.

Miraculously.

After years of struggling, of being told it would never happen, of false results and shattered hopes—it’s happening.

You’d be in denial if it wasn’t for the test results in your hand. It is solid, a print out of what your doctor told you over the phone.

John stands next to you, reading the piece of paper over your shoulder. His shoulders are riddled with tension, lips a thin line. It’s clear that he wants to join in on your joy, but something holds him back.

“Are you happy?” you ask, suddenly nervous.

“I am—I.” John clears his throat. “But last time?”

Last time looked just like this. Last time everything was fine—until it wasn’t. Until the blood and the pain and the hospital visit.

“It might not be like last time.”

John gently grasps the sides of your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You don’t have to. Not for me. Not for anyone.”

“It’s okay, John.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, and John places his lips to your forehead. “I worry.”

“I know,” you murmur, turning your face into his touch. “But you’re here. And that’s all that matters.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

It all has to go. All of it. There is too much damage.

No uterus. No fallopian tubes. No ovaries.

Gone. All of it. Gone.

Johnny sits next to you on the sofa, his head in his hands. His sigh is heavy as he rubs at his face. When he comes up for air, you know his world is shattered, just likes yours.

“The surgeon said they might be able to save some eggs.” Even you don’t believe the words leaving your mouth. It’s a farce.

“Might?” asks Johnny.

“They won’t know until they’re actually inside.”

Johnny is oddly silent. It’s not like him to be quiet.

“Are you upset?” you ask, tentatively.

“No,” he says sharply. “Not with you. Never with you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, because an apology feels right but you’re not sure why you’re doing it at all.

Johnny places his hand on your knee, squeezing gently. “For what?”

Tears pool, threatening to spill over. “For not being enough.”

He leans in, face serious. “The fact that you think that at all means I’ve failed you. That I haven’t loved you enough.”

“Johnny.”

He draws you in. “This doesn’t make you less worthy of my love.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

A heartrate monitor beeps nearby. They���ll release you soon now that you’re awake and aware.

It’s all coming back in pieces.

You remember the cramping, the spotting, and then the bleeding that wouldn’t stop. You remember the cold linoleum floor against your cheek, of losing consciousness, of gaining it again only for the room to spin. You remember how cold you were, and Simon’s hands—of how his voice cracked when he said your name.

You don’t recall the trip to the hospital. You only remember how Simon demanded help while the staff told him he needed to calm down.

But he’s here now—and no one is yelling. He sits in a chair next to your hospital bed, face grim and skin pale like he hasn’t slept in days.

There have almost always been complications—always been issues while trying to conceive, but of those that have ended, it’s never been like this.

You turn your head, and as if sensing you, Simon glances up from his silent musings. You offer your hand. Simon takes it, and though he doesn’t squeeze hard, you feel the desperation in the way he clings to you.

“I’m not risking you. Never again.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Your friend opens the gift, presenting it to the gathered crowd. Everyone fawns over the set of baby blankets. There are several in total, all pale pastels.

You smile and agree that it’s a wonderful gift. Outwardly, everything is fine. Internally, your mind is still at home, lingering on the four pregnancy tests hidden in the bathroom bin beneath a pile of toilet paper.

Each one negative. Each one a glaring stain on the long list of failures.

Kyle emerges from the kitchen with the father-to-be, a massive grin on his face. This baby shower is a reminder to you of all your shortcomings. For Kyle, this is hope—a vision of the future.

And you haven’t told him. Haven’t said a word about those four negative tests.

How many years of trying now?

But you’re still young.

Don’t stress about it.

It’s so easy for others to stick their nose in, which is why you don’t share anymore.

Kyle plops down next to you. The happiness there is palpable, so thick it’s almost like butter on the tongue. You’re going to shatter it—hurt him yet again.

He presents his hand, palm upward.

You snatch it like a lifeline, and squeeze—hard. Kyle frowns at your entwined fingers. His gaze sweeps upward.

In your friend’s hands is a onesie for a newborn. Everyone coos, and something in you breaks. You’re smiling, but you sense the threatening tears.

Kyle’s frown shifts to a sad smile.

He knows. You don’t have to say anything.

Lifting your joined hands, Kyle brings the back of your palm to his lips. Placing a quick kiss there, he then kisses your forehead. He adds another kiss to spot just behind your ear.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s okay.”

No one is watching.

“I love you.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

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@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[vantedaes]

cry, cry, cry

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader tags: porn with little plot, dacryphilia (or an attempt at it at least) soft dom nanami, slight breathplay, fingering, alcohol use, body fluids mentions, unprotected sex, manhandling, slight objectivization, passing out, hair pulling, pussy spanking, slight breeding kink, reader does not talk but because of the context no because she can't. NO PROOFREAD. an: English is not my first language, there might be mistakes that would be addressed,,, someday, for now I just want this to be posted it has been sitting on my drafts like forever. Inspired by this tiktok of my lovely bbh

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT +18 ONLY!!!

!Husband Kento was not a stranger to being enraged when working overtime, however, he didn't make a habit of taking that rage home, where his lovely wife was waiting for him. Unfortunately for him, today was one of those days he couldn´t stop the bubbling wrath when returning home after insufferable overtime hours cleaning everyone´s messes.

Of course, he had sent you a text beforehand letting you know that it was for the best to allow him time to cool down before talking to him, and thankfully you've been supporting and understanding as ever telling him that he shouldn´t worry and that a glass of his favorite bourbon was already served in his study.

You knew exactly that your lovely husband had an especially rough day, you could tell by the sound of the door opening an abrasive almost like the FBI was breaking into your house, you could hear from your shared room the loud slamming of the door, so strong it made you flinch, your cat scaping your blanket running into hiding somewhere in the closet.

Closing your book you put it on your nightstand and heard how the heavy steps of your husband made their way to your home, you could listen to the rustling of his clothing and another slam of what you could guess was his suitcase, oh, he was real upset, Not long after that you hear him opening the door of his study. Standing up you got out of your shared room, you didn't want to bother him at all knowing he had to blow some steam, so you just went to the drawing room to assess the situation, with soft steps you saw how his coat was thrown under the hanger and his suitcase a few steps from the coat, open, revealing what you could only assume was red numbers and some other reports he had to deal with, you did your best to accommodate everything in its place hearing your husband going slamming things in his office.

You knew it was better to just go to sleep and wait for him to come to bed whenever he felt like it, but, you were also curious, you´d never seen him this upset, so after getting his things together you made your way silently to his study, almost on tiptoes, the door was wide open which made your little espionage easier. Only the light of his desk was on, you leaned in the doorframe like a child trying not to get busted when they know were being naughty, your breath caught into your throat when you saw him, his back to you pouring even more of the bourbon and gulping it in just one quick motion, his muscles evidently tense making him look even bigger, menacing even, his big hands gripping the glass and the movement of his throat working that burning alcohol down like it was nothing.

And dear lord, you could feel your pajama shorts getting soaked.

Your skin burned like it had caught on fire, you weren't unfamiliar with how insanely hot and attractive your husband was, but this was different, this was the first time you'd seen him, this, this enraged, his whole demeanor changing in a drastic form that you've never experimented and your eyes were glazing for just the sight, your fingers itching to help you relieve some of that tension desire building in the pit of your stomach. Your husband then sits on his chair, his strong tights expanding, and his crotch more prominent, his hair like a full mess, golden locks falling into his gorgeous face that was contorted into a hostile expression that only made you press your tights even closer to each other, you could feel yourself trembling with a raw need that was taking over every grain of your sanity.

But then in a swift motion, after struggling to take off his tie he simply opted for tearing the damn thing apart, the buttons of his shirt flying to different parts of the room, allowing his massive chest to breathe and with that sinful sight you couldn't help but gasp. Still, in reality, it was more like a pitiful whimper that was capable of getting your very angry husband´s attention to you.

The moment your eyes connected with his dark eyes you didn´t move an inch, something like fear and excitement creeping into you, like a fear of a beast that found the most helpless prey on its own lair, which was accurately what was happening.

Your husband stood up and gulped the whisky quickly, licking his lips as he addressed you.

"C´me here" His voice was raspy, like going through your whole body, it made you quiver even more, made your whole being more intoxicated.

Slowly you approached him, his eyes never leaving you for a second, and you were used to Kento´s eyes on you, his attentive and longing gaze every time he looked at you, but the way he was looking at you now was something else, like drinking the sight of you, like devouring your whole image, resembling a madman that has been starved. When you got close enough you stopped, just a few centimeters separating you, he smirked cockily his lips glazed with the bourbon, and your nostrils were filled with the scent of his cologne mixed with alcohol it roamed through your figure and you find yourself inhaling it, fueling even more the heat that was about to explode inside your body. Your husband looked amused at how you were paralyzed in front of him like you were asking permission to touch him, your own husband, it was ridiculous, and yet it was what his good girl knew had to do.

"Look at you, shamelessly spying on me when I perfectly told you to give me space" His hand gripped your chin with a strength that made you part your lips in surprise "Now that you got what you wanted...you´re all shaky, angel"

You wanted to answer sure, it wasn´t your nature to stay quiet, you were always quick with a comeback but just like in a trance, you were just mute and so fucking needy, he, your husband, was not a man who loses his calm like ever, one year of marriage and you've never seen him this deranged.

He could hardly blame you for how your body reacted, you yourself didn't know you could find him even hotter.

Quivering, you tried to speak "I—"

And without any kind of warning, he grabbed your waist with a strength that made you gasp in surprise, the sound of shattering glass stealing your attention for a quick second —he really threw his glass on the floor—, but as soon as you felt your frame pressed tightly at the body of Kento your mind went to a fucking blank again, contemplating how his normally hazel color eyes were totally pitch black. His arm was like an iron band around your waist and your hands posed on his big chest trying to hold onto something, his closeness making you quiver like a leaf and you could just read in his expression how much he liked all of your wretched reactions.

"Shh...it´s alright angel" he whispered hotly upon your lips "I already know what you want"

Before you could process any of his words he took you and bent you over his desk, your hips pressed against the edge of it and all of the stuff on top of it falling down, the bottle of whiskey spilling over the wood surface where your face was now pressed against wetting your cheek and lips, you were never a fan of whiskey —or any strong alcohol really—, but right now you welcomed it eagerly with your mouth hanging open when you felt the hot and rough hands of your husband stripping you off your pajama shorts, your cunt being met with the breeze of the room, soaked, you felt how your juices were already trailing your tights. You moaned pitifully, your hole clenching into nothing.

Nanami laughed in a vibrato that made your knees buckle, "Look at that, so fucking wet..." his fingers trailed your dampness pressing over your wet swollen lips gathering all the liquid before entering your entrance in a quick movement, you let out a high pitched moan at the sudden intermission "That´s right angel, you will take it"

He kept moving his fingers inside your cunt quickly while his other hand kept your head firmly pressed into his desk, the whisky fusing with your saliva as you kept loudly moaning, your body going into shambles quickly, Nanami was like a feral beast fucking you with his fingers letting out the hottest low grunts that were making your orgasm approach in a tidal wave in just mere seconds of his fingers inside you.

"Yes yes yes" you chanted in ecstasy, your legs fully trembling as your orgasm hit you with an intensity that would almost make you fall if it wasn't for the firm hand of your husband keeping you still on the surface of his desk, a loud moaning of his name leaving your mouth.

"made a mess of my fingers angel, so needy you came so fast" his fingers leaving your leaky entrance and trailing through your cunt greedily. you were panting with the aftermath of your orgasm, the whiskey now soaking the whole table and part of your hair "Filthy, filthy girl, looking like a used whore after just taking my fingers"

He roamed a chuckle, then you heard him sucking his fingers nastily, sounding richly across the room, and in a quick moment he slapped your pussy making you scream your already shaky legs buckling and almost falling to the floor only to be grabbed by your wrists and manhandled to your position on the table.

Another smack on your pussy made you yelp, "Come on now, don't act like this cunt doesn't like it rough" You felt him pressing against your ass, fully clothed, and yet you felt the big bulge twitching against your bare cunt, soaking his pants, it was unbearable to have his cock still on his pants when you wanted it so so so bad.

However, you could only mutter pathetic whimpers, so clouded and drunk on his cock that wasn't even inside you. "Stay put" Your husband demanded and you immediately went still, excitement filling your body as you heard him unfast his belt followed by his zipper and a delicious groan as his cock was fully out

You couldn't quite see but you knew he didn't take off his pants by the way you could feel the fabric on your tights and fuck, you could come just right there again.

"I believe you know I have no intend of going soft with you tonight," He remarked while tracing his cock on your swollen lips, his precum fusing with your juices "Oh, but look at you angel... so fucked up looking like you could die if I don't give you this cock"

"I—" A slap to your asscheek cut you off to a pathetic moan, and soon you felt the hard body of your husband pressing on your back to whisper in your ear.

"I don´t want to hear anything that is not those pathetic little moans you made" His hot breath against your neck had you shivering, with his hard cock nestled between your folds you could do nothing but behave, tears escaping your eyes betraying how much you wanted it, how much you need it, Nanami trailed your neck inhaling your scent like he needed it more than air, getting drunk on it and leaving wet open mouth kisses on your boiling hot skin. Despite the twitching of his cock against your folds he did nothing more than tease your skin with his hot breath on your most sensible zones, driving you into absolute madness, your hole clenching, hungry, and desperate.

His hands gripping your waist tightly, you were sure tomorrow it'll have a mark. "Nothing more than a slut for this cock hm?" he teased leaving your back, standing again he took your jaw turning your face to him, when you looked at his handsome face his eyes looked like a deep endless void of how black and dilated they were, not a trace of his usual hazel like eyes, he looked at you with ravenousness, his eyes darting through your face that was now covered in tears

His cock twitched at the sight of your whipping face, you started sobbing, your lips trembling in a way of begging him to fuck you.

"Oh fuck" He moaned leaving your jaw to tug on your hair and grabbing the base of his cock he finally directed his tip to your needy entrance, you moaned even more between tears feeling how the length of your husband's cock stretched you.

Fuuuuck, your husband was big and, oh, he did not intend to go soft with you, remember? So you should have expected when his full-length slammed into your cunt in a strong thrust, making you cry loud, your hands grabbing the edge of the table, you could feel his cock molding your insides, his veins popping through your walls and if you were already not intoxicated you surely were now.

Nanami moaned feeling your pussy tightening around him like you want to cut him off, he pulled your hair into his fist harder and looking straight at your eyes he hissed, "Put your fucking hands were they where"

Looking at him with big tearful eyes you clasped your hands together behind your back, your whole stability now depending on how your husband had your hair pulled into his fist. "Such an obedient girl... Now keep sobbing like a dumb slut while I feed you this cock"

And with that, you could only hiccup pathetically, Nanami's thrusts were erratic and fast, kissing every bit of your insides, he looked at you with a deranged look, enjoying how you were drooling and crying while taking his cock so harshly, he fucking loved it, having you go all fucking stupid on his big cock and have you reduced to a needy little thing.

"Yes, fuck—that's right, so fucking tight around me" his sloppy thrust was making you dizzy on how deep he was reaching into you, your orgasm already in the making ready to burst with the warning of being even bigger than the last one and your husband knew it completely, that smirk of his adorning his lips, with that your second orgasm erupt shaking your whole body, your husband groaned pulling on your hair harder making you stare at him while you creamed his cock and your eyes rolled, tears trailing down your face to your throat disappearing on your breasts, your husband's depraved eyes look at it and soon you had him turning you around without leaving your sloppy hole to now have you laying down the desk in a more comfortably position

A position that allowed you to look upon your very disheveled husband, through your teary and hazy eyes you could see and drink at the sight of Nanami just fucking into you like a mad man, like a fucking wild animal, his hands now gripping your jaw playing with it like you were a useless doll, his fingers entering your hot mouth pressing on your tongue while he kept pounding that fat cock into you, you whimper so cockdrunk you were about to pass out feeling his hard cock kiss your cervix every time, he was ruthless in the way he was fucking you and you were obsessed with it.

"Fuck, I'm going to fill you up so fucking good" he left your jaw and slapped your tits before rubbing your clit in a maniac rhythm that pull you out of your drowsy state and soon you were filling up another orgasm approaching, "come for me sweetheart, I know you can, fuck—do it"

His thrusts were, even more, sloppier, erratic, and quick you felt like you were about to explode, it was way too much, you were pushing the limits of your oversensitive body, but oh, how you loved it especially when you felt his hard cock stiffen even more inside you and warm cum filling your insides and soon you were cumming a third time, this time even more intense than the previous ones and your whole body shudder at the immense pleasure and the fullness of the cum inside you, your husband moans in the background of your nirvana, it was as you where losing your hold on reality and soon everything went blank.

!Husband Kento was heavily panting rolling off the immense orgasm he had, only to find his lovely wife passed out on his desk, and even though his first response was to get worried that he indeed had been too rough with you, but, the happiness on your —very fucked up— face told him everything he needed to know.

Taking his dick out of you he put himself together and took your limp body in his arms to carry you into the bathroom, somewhere along the way you regained consciousness, your pretty confused eyes looked at him and soon your cheeks turned red "Hello beautiful, I'm going to take care of you now"

Simply he assured you with a smile and a kiss to your damped forehead, you smelled like sweat and whiskey.

"..." You looked like you wanted to speak and Nanami could only chuckle affectionately at your uncertainty.

"You can speak now angel"

[livelaughloveluffy]

love languages - trafalgar water d. law

a/n: i definitely needed this fic, i've been a bit sad today so writing this cheered me up a bit, hopefully it can do the same for you all as well!! i started a higher dose of sertraline today, so hopefully i level out and feel better soon.

nothing but fluff here 💗

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how he shows love:

acts of service - law is a silent lover. words have never really been his strong suit and he often has a hard time physically conveying his emotions. his silence, however, is not synonymous to lack of effort. law shows up for you physically. he does hundreds of menial little tasks for you (when he found the time to get them done, you'll never know). whether it's pre-packing your lunch, having your meds ready next to water and breakfast when you wake up, drawing you a warm bath, taking care of your laundry and other chores. and he'll never mention it at all, you'll just happen to find these things all done on your own. he'll constantly brush of your thanks and appreciation with a mumble of "it's nothing.. i was already doing it anyways..." but one restless night, you catch him in the act of secretly folding your laundry, a rare sight you savored and committed to memory.

quality time - it doesn't matter if the two of you are together but focused on your own tasks, attention divided from each other, or if you're wrapped up in each other's arms. law truly doesn't mind either way, just knowing that you're close by is more than enough for him. and while the captain of the heart pirates may do his best to act otherwise, he definitely prefers having you a minimum of an arm's length away. of course, law does enjoy actively finding activities for the two of you to partake in together or places to visit and explore, in his opinion, it's all worthless without you to do it with.

how he feels loved:

words of affirmation - as much as it flusters the captain, your small whispers of praise and affection mean the world to him. while law may have a hard time returning the gesture, the way his entire body seems to relax at your words doesn't go unnoticed by you. until finally just the melodious sound of your voice instantly brings him comfort, something that unconsciously conditioned him to unwind. law is the type of man to take every comment to heart, as if he's collecting and saving them in his very being. so your sincere admiration and words of encouragement hold much more power than you'll ever know, fueling him to keep going.

physical touch - despite the limited conversations the two of you have shared about the topic of his rough childhood, it is abundantly clear that law never fully got over a lot of his abandonment issues. he only truly feels safe when your arms are wrapped around him, lips pressing gentle kisses against his forehead as you softly stroke his raven locks. every kiss and hand hold is treasure in his eyes, and if he could freeze time, he'd live in those moments forever. while the crew of the heart pirates may roll their eyes and poke fun at your sickly sweet nothings and other expressions of pda, they will never comment on your physical closeness to the captain. your hands often resting on his thigh whenever the two of you are sitting down, or on the smalls of his back as you two stand together, are acknowledged but never discussed among the crew. though shachi and penguin can often be found with their faces almost turning blue trying to hold back addressing the amount of times you'll walk into meetings, just to stand behind law's chair, resting your chin of the top of his head while you rub his shoulders.

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tags ♡: @dindjarins1ut @twiishaa @chibinasuu @3v37773 @dreamcastgirl99 @acesdiary @suga-tofu @vamphoria @raddelusionaldive @sparkyvibes @chillerkiller @teewon @all-by-myself98 @moonpri @thissaintjessi @sunshineagony

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[lightsoutletsgo]

flowers are a language of their own — mv.1

pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 4.2k warnings:  slight angst

four times max gives you flowers and the first time you reciprocate, a childhood friends to lovers oneshot this is basically inspired by gwen and for gwen 😭 @verstappen-cult once again thanking you for my max brain rot bc these conversations are just DOING something to me skskksjsj but MWAH! I hope you like it my love 🤍 happy reading! mimi

i. daisies; new beginnings, innocence, cheerfulness (age 6) You hadn’t been at your new school very long, having moved to the town recently. You’d struggled with making new friends, the new language making things even more difficult. But this had really ruined your day. Your bottom lip jutted out and began to wobble as you looked at your drawing you’d spent the whole morning perfecting before tidy-up time. What had once been a beautiful explosion of scribbled crayon colours across one page now lay in two halves. It was more than your poor six year old brain could handle and so you immediately burst into tears. Wailing and sobbing, your teacher hurried over to see what the issue was. Between gasping inhales and snotty sobs you pointed to your crumpled torn drawing. She picked it up and turned to address the class of wild six year olds, “Alright class, does anybody know what happened to Y/N’s picture?” Your teacher’s voice was gentle, “You won’t be in trouble but our friend is very sad so we need to apologise and make it right okay?” Your bottom lip wobbled as your sniffles quietened a little and a small voice could be heard from the back of the classroom, “I didn’t mean to!” A small boy stepped forwards, bright blonde hair with blue eyes and you glared at him. He looked down at the floor as he awkwardly scuffed his shoe against the carpet. The teacher approached him and crouched down, “Thank you for being honest Max… Can you come and say sorry?” He nodded and took the teacher’s hand as she lead him over to you, “I’m sorry…” His apology was accented by a slight lisp and you frowned, arms crossing in front of your chest. “Thank you Max, Y/N? Max said it was an accident and that he’s sorry okay?” You let out a slight ‘hmmph’ as the teacher straightened up at the sound of the lunch bell. Max was quick to run out of the classroom with his friends but you plodded behind the group, still sad about your artwork. 

You grabbed your lunchbox from your locker and looked for a chair in the lunch hall. Spotting your favourite yellow chair you couldn’t help but gasp as your little legs headed over as fast as they could carry you. You sat down and opened your lunchbox, legs swinging under the table. You’d barely taken two bites of your sandwich before a boy approached the table. You looked up and saw Max standing there, his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry I broke your drawing.” Max did his best to speak so you’d understand.  “‘S fine.” You grumbled, annoyed he was talking to you. Six year old you could really hold a grudge… His cheeks tinted pink as he removed his hands from behind his back to hold out a small bunch of daisies he’d clearly picked from the playing field. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. “Here, for you…” He took a step closer and you held your hand out for him to gently place the flowers in your palm. Your eyes looked at him and you noticed how his knees were slightly muddy and there was a streak of dirt on his cheek. You giggled and he beamed back at you, you suddenly felt very shy,

“D-do you want to sit here?” You patted the seat next to you, “We can eat lunch together?” Max nodded, racing off to grab his lunchbox. He dashed back and sat next to you, unzipping his lunchbag to compare the contents with yours. “Are we going to be friends Max?” He nodded enthusiastically, taking your hand in his, “Mhmm! Best friends Y/N! So you can call me Maxie!” 

ii. yellow amaryllis; pride, happiness, strength, determination (age 18) “Smile!” You stood with your friends, taking pictures in your graduation gowns and giggling together. But your heart panged, something - or rather someone - was missing from your day. Your eyes scanned the hall, desperately looking for a familiar blonde head. Despite knowing he was currently halfway round the world at a Grand Prix, “Boo!” A hand covered your eyes and a grin spread across your face at the familiar voice, “Maxie!” Turning around, you jumped into his arms and he laughed out loud, “Easy there bug!” You could hear your friends and family laughing and taking pictures of the two of you behind you but you still didn’t pull away, too embarrassed to let anyone see that you had tears welling up in your eyes. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it…” Max squeezed you a little tighter, “I left as soon as the race was over, there was no way I was missing this!” You pulled back and he wiped the tear that had slipped down your cheek. He let go of you and extended his arm towards you, holding out a beautiful bouquet of yellow amaryllis flowers, complete with yellow and white ribbons. 

“Max,” you gasped “they’re so beautiful!” he nudged your shoulder with his, “Hey, you deserve it. They stand for pride, strength, happiness and determination.” “Determination” You spoke at the same time, finishing the sentence together. His eyes stared at you so adoringly, you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. The moment was broken by your parents urging you to stand together for a picture. “What a beautiful couple!” You heard a teacher say as they walked past, “Oh no we’re not-” “Me and him? No way-” Both you and Max spoke over each other, completely missing the knowing looks your friends and family all gave each other. You couldn’t help the fresh wave of giggles that overtook you as Max pulled you into his side. You could have sworn that for the briefest of seconds, butterflies took flight in your stomach but you quickly brushed it off, blaming it on the excitement of the day. 

iii. - yellow roses; friendship | bluebells; comfort (age 22) Max couldn’t deny the way that panic flashed through his entire body when he answered your call and heard nothing but your sobs on the other end. “Maxie!” You hiccuped, “Y/N? What happened? Are you okay?” He stood up, not caring that he was interrupting an important team meeting. His alarm grew even more when your only response was to cry even harder. He looked back at the group of people sat around the conference table, “I’m sorry but it’s a family emergency, I have to go.” He raced down the corridor and poked the elevator button far more times than was necessary. “Talk to me bug… I can’t help if you don’t explain what’s going on.” “He cheated Max! I went to his place and he was in bed with my roommate.” Max felt a weird combination of calm and anger wash over him at the same time. Calm because he knew you were safe and anger because who the fuck did your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, think he was? Fuck the elevator, Max headed for the stairs, wanting to get to his car and book a flight to you as soon as possible. “Oh Y/N…” “Said he only did it because he knew that I’d been cheating on him with you.” You heard Max scoff, “God he’s so fucking dumb Y/N… I never really liked him, you know that right? You’ve always been too good for him…” You heard Max sigh on the other end of the line and you curled up into an even smaller ball in your bed, pulling Max’s hoodie up even more as your nose inhaled the comforting scent of him, 

“Can we move to facetime? Just wanna see you.” You choked out and he obliged, quickly filling your request. Max felt his heart breaking as he looked at you in your bed. “Hey! Is that my hoodie, bug?” You nodded with a sniffle as he did his best to cheer you up even just a little, “Traitor! You told me you didn’t know where it had gone…” A watery smile spread across your face. “Look, I’m gonna come see you okay?” You sat upright and stared at him hard, “Max Emilian Verstappen, you cannot do that! You have important meetings this week.” “Ooo full name?” He hissed through his teeth, “I am in trouble.” You shook your head at him, “You’re incorrigible.” “Big words we’re using today hmm?” You flipped him off and he laughed, “I’ll be there soon, bug okay?” You nodded and he smiled at you once more, “Just hang in there for a little longer.” He ended the call and immediately your smile dropped. In those brief few seconds you’d forgotten why you’d even called him in the first place. But now in the quiet of your apartment, the sad feelings crept up once more, smothering you and dragging you down. 

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep the night before, but the combination of the doorbell ringing and the knocking on the door jolted you awake. Rushing to the front door, you threw it open, still slightly disorientated from your rude awakening, “Hey bug.” “Maxie!” You felt wide awake staring at Max who now stood on your doorstep, a warm smile across his face. You immediately felt like bursting into tears once more and Max was quick to see that, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you as he rested his head on top of yours. “It’s okay bug,” you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, “I got you.” He waddled with you in his arms, through your doorway and into the hallway to close the door and give you some privacy. As he held you, he felt his heart race a little, thinking how he would never make you or let you cry like that if you were his girl - wait what? Now was not the time to be thinking about those kinds of things! Max held you until your sobbing had quietened down again, “Sorry,” you sniffed all snotty and he just poked your nose and laughed gently, “It’s okay Y/N.” His hand gently rubbed your arm as he watched you take a few deep breaths to compose yourself, “Here.” He pulled a somewhat squished bouquet of flowers out of what seemed like nowhere, “Sorry, they got a little uhhh… too involved in the hug?” You let out a breath of laughter and took them from him, a finger gently tracing the petals, “Yellow roses? For friendship right?” Max nodded with a smile, “Yellow roses, because I’m always gonna be your best friend who has your back and bluebells because they’re comforting.” You couldn’t help the way your heart clenched hearing his words. It seemed that Max not only bought you flowers often but he even thought of the meaning of what he was buying. For some reason, the thought had those pesky flutters appearing in your stomach but you quickly reprimanded yourself and shook them off. You hadn’t even broken up with your ex for more than 24 hours yet, but here you were thinking about Max romantically? You shook your head, that was a line you could never think of crossing, no matter how much it seemed to be crossing your mind more and more the older you got. 

iv. pink tulips; perfect love, affection (now) Now that you were living in Monaco, not too far from Max, movie nights were a common occurrence, with evenings being split between your apartment and his. Food would be ordered and wine would be drunk, movies would be played but barely watched as the two of you would end up talking into the night and continue long after the credits had finished rolling. If there was one thing you could count on Max for, it was his promptness and so when the clock read seven o’clock exactly, you knew it would only be a matter of seconds before you heard his footsteps down the hallway to your apartment. You were proven correct as Max let himself into your apartment, calling out as he did so, “Hey bug! It’s just me!” “In the living room!” You called back, smiling as he appeared in the doorway, holding something behind his back, “What have you got there hmm?” Max’s smile wavered for a second and you frowned, sitting up on the couch, “Max?” He exhaled and bit his lip nervously, “Maxie?” You tried again much more softly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, “I’m about to say something and…” He sighed, “I just want you to let me finish okay?” You nodded confused as he came to sit next to you, holding out a bouquet of pink tulips as he did so. You felt yourself gasp as you stared at the flowers, admiring the pretty wrapping and how the ribbon matched the flowers. You wracked your brain as you stared, desperately trying to recall the meaning, Max always gave flowers with meaning. Appreciation? No, apology? Nope not that... No. It couldn’t be? Could it? “Affection?” You didn’t even realise you’d spoken the word out loud but a sharp inhale from Max was enough to tell you he’d heard you. Your eyes shot up to his face and noticed he wouldn’t even look at you, instead choosing to gently trace over the bouquet ribbon, “Yes.” His cheeks were pink and you could have sworn you stopped breathing. It was silent in your apartment. The only noise coming from the traffic outside and the thump of your neighbour as their work boots clunked over the floor before their door slammed. The noise pulled you out of your silence as you stared at Max, “What did you just say?” Max finally dared to look up as he gazed into your eyes, “Pink tulips, affection, perfect l…” “Perfect what?” There was no way he was going to say what you thought he was going to say… “Perfect love.” You stood up from the couch, immediately pacing back and forth as your hands started to fumble together, “Max…” You breathed, finally stopping to look at him sat staring at you. “Okay so this is the part where I need you to listen…” You let out a laugh of disbelief but said nothing as he swallowed, hands nervously rubbing the legs of his jeans. “I like you.” You froze as he continued, “I like you and I think I honestly have for a while… I know that this might not be the best time to tell you but I just can’t keep kidding myself anymore. The feelings I have for you? They’re not things I would be feeling if you were just a best friend to me Y/N. God I think I always knew it was you… From the day I ruined your drawing and then when I surprised you at your graduation… And then that horrific breakup,” You both winced, “I swore then that I would never let you cry over another man like that again. Because I wanted to be the only man that you had from then on.” Your lips parted as a nervous exhale left you. He stopped his rambling, panting slightly as he looked at you, “If you have anything to say, now would be a good time to say it…” You looked at him. Max, your Max. The boy that had been there for you through everything, your best friend.

“No…” You whispered out, your own heart breaking at your words, “I can’t…” Max looked absolutely crushed, “No?” His voice was quiet, “Why?” You shrugged, bottom lip trembling, “I can’t risk losing you.” Max scoffed, “Losing me?” “What if we break up hmm? You’re telling me we would be able to go back to being best friends like nothing ever happened? What if it doesn’t work hmm?” Max shook his head as your spoke, “You think I would say this to you if I didn’t think it would work?” “I-I… I don’t know!” You exclaimed as Max stood up, “You won’t even try?” “I’m too scared to Max…” He nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets as you stared at him, “I’m so sorry.” You whispered, “Me too.” he said before turning and walking out. The door hadn’t even closed behind him before you’d collapsed to the floor, your legs giving out. You’d never cried so hard because of him before. Not when he’d ripped your drawing, not when he'd surprised you at graduation, not even when he’d held you after your breakup. 

You stared at the pink tulips as they lay on your couch, their bright happy hopeful colour taunting you. You stalked over to them and picked them up, heading straight to the trash, pulling your arm back to throw them away but you found yourself physically unable to do it. 

i. flowers are a language of their own You weren’t sure whether it was convenient or not that Max had a double header after that conversation. Usually you would spam him while he was away and he would pick things up when he could. Often late at night in his hotel bed, a goofy grin plastered across his face as he opened your fit pics and food diary pics of the day, reading through your spam about work, friends and cute cats you’d spotted on the street.

But this time there had been nothing. From either of you. It had been strange and hurtful. You sighed as you checked your phone again for the millionth time that day, already knowing there would be no new notifications from him. Why would there be? The guy you liked had confessed to you and you’d broken his heart because you were too scared he’d break yours. Groaning you dropped your head to the kitchen counter, thumping your forehead against it a few times in the hope of gaining some sense of clarity. It didn’t work. You sighed and stood up straight. You were still kicking yourself for shutting him down so quickly. Yes, he was your Maxie, your best friend, but wasn’t that the point? He knew you so well, he cared for you and loved you, in whatever capacity. He would never intentionally hurt you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, there had been a continuous pull in your stomach and a slight ache in your chest the longer you went without talking to him. You knew if you could do the situation over again you would give a completely different answer. You didn’t want him to break your heart but now you had lost him completely. 

Your head shot up as a plan began to form in your head. Grabbing your phone you looked up plane tickets for the country you knew Max was in at the moment. You knew things would be tricky without his help and you didn’t even know if it would work out, but for him you had to try. Selecting your seat you rushed to pack a bag, noticing how the now dry and dead tulips still lay on your bedroom vanity, the pink now much less vibrant and tinged with brown. Your stomach flipped and you hoped to god it would all work out. You knew which hotel the team usually stayed at when they were racing in that specific country and so after making a quick stop you headed straight there, planning to just wait until you were spotted by someone from the team who recognised you and took pity on you. You didn’t have to wait long as one of Max’s race engineers was exiting the building just as your taxi pulled up. Clambering out of the vehicle as you spotted him, he smiled and waved, “Hey! Didn’t know you were coming this weekend? Max usually says something.” “Ah,” you shuffled awkwardly, not wanting to give anything away about your strained relationship, “it’s a surprise!” His eyes widened and he grinned at you knowingly, especially when he spotted what you carried in your arms. “Well… Seeing as it’s you, I’ll give you his room number.” After obtaining the information you needed you thanked him and headed inside, getting on the elevator and pressing the button for his floor as you thanked whatever higher powers there were that so far the plan was working. As the bell dinged for your floor you gulped, a whole new wave of nerves and anxiety washing over you. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he got angry with you and sent you away? But what if he heard you out? Oh crap, what were you gonna say? 

Through your internal rambling, you had somehow managed to walk to his door and now you stood frozen. Unable to knock and unable to move. Swallowing the lump in your throat you knocked the door gently. You heard a crash and then a curse in Dutch came from inside and you winced. Oh god, if he was already in a bad mood… This wouldn’t help. The door swung open and a tired looking Max stood there. Dressed in cosy sweatpants and navy hoodie, no logos in sight but still fitting his team colours. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you in front of him.  “Y/N?” You gave the softest of smiles nervously, “Hi Maxie.”

You weren’t sure what you’d expected when you saw him. You’d thought about how he might yell or cry or get mad or slam the door in your face but you certainly hadn’t expected him to grab your arms and pull you into a hug, burying his face in your neck, “Fuck, I missed you so much I’m so sorry…” You sniffled, pulling back and looking at him, “Why are you sorry?! I’m sorry! I never should have doubted you-” “I never should have pressured you-” “You didn’t! I never should have jumped to conclusions about how things would end. God. It’s been so miserable without you…” You noticed his eyes growing tearful. “Here, come in.” He gently pulled you into the room and closed the door behind you. Your eyes swept the room and zeroed in on an object on his bed, “Is that my t-shirt?” You asked incredulously, mouth gaping at him slightly as he rushed to shove it in his suitcase, “N-no!” “Max Emilian…” Your voice was low, “M-maybe…” You gave him a pointed stare and he relented, “Okay yes fine it is.” He sighed, “I found it at my apartment that night when I got back and… I just… I didn’t have you and it was the closest thing…” He trailed off, sitting on the bed. You padded across the room to take a seat next to him, one hand gently rubbing his back, “I know Maxie… Me too.” His head rested on your shoulder and you inhaled shakily, it was now or never. 

You looked back across the room at where your things lay in the entrance. You stood up and made your way over, picking up what you needed before turning back to him with your arms behind your back. “I’m about to say something…” His head shot up to look at you, “and I need you to let me finish.” You gave him a tearful smile and he swore he felt his breathing quicken as you practically echoed his words from a few weeks ago. You approached him and offered him the bouquet from behind your back. He stared at it for a moment before his eyes flicked up to look at yours.

“Red roses?” You nodded, unable to keep looking at him - partly shy and partly terrified of his answer, until he gently held your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze once more, “Red roses.” “You know what they mean don’t you?” “I picked them for a reason.” He stood up and gently took them from you, one hand sliding round your waist to pull you into him, “Baby’s breath?” “Baby’s breath.” You looked down, breathing your answer as his face got closer to yours. “Is this your speech then?” You let out a breath, “I figured I would let the flowers speak for themselves, god knows you’ve been doing it long enough.”

His lips were practically on yours and it took everything in you to keep standing as his next words were brushed against your lips, “Is this your answer then?” You nodded, “No schat, please… Let me hear you say it…” His eyes closed as he felt your shuddering breath, “Yes, Max. Yes, I want to try with you, I love you and that’s enough to tell me we should try-” Any further words you had were cut off by Max’s lips meeting yours. His grip around your waist tightened, the flowers sliding from his other hand to the floor as he gently cupped your face, thumb rubbing back and forth across your cheek. You couldn’t help the way you smiled against his lips and he laughed at the feeling, the two of you giggling and grinning between kisses like the lovesick idiots you were. 

Red roses; declaration of love, Baby’s breath; eternal love.   

[kurooh]

☆ fluff, with mha spoilers about hawks’ fate (ch. 385&426)

“c’mon, stay still, keigo,” you remind him softly, adjusting the angle of his head with a hand at his chin. “i’m not gonna poke your eye out, don’t worry.”

“it looks really . . pointed,” keigo replies, eyeing the tip of the eyeliner pen cautiously. “and anyway, how’re your hands not shaking that bad?”

“practice,” you shrug, “but your talking is breaking up my concentration, y’know.”

“okay, okay,” he zips his lips and pretends to toss a key over his shoulder. you simply shake your head at keigo’s antics, bringing the tip of the pen to his eye again. this time, he manages to control his flinch enough to not mess up the wing you’re drawing.

keigo had been born with his birdlike quirk, fierce wings, which came along with many other avian characteristics. his astute, piercing golden eyes were a good example of what came along with his quirk. more interestingly, his eyes had always had dark markings around them—sharp lines and wings to further add to his birdlike appearance.

since losing his quirk to all for one on that vile day, in a battle that should’ve been won, keigo lost most of those odd little characteristics, the markings around his eyes being one of them. (of course, he never lost his penchant for fried chicken.) now, as the president of the hero public safety commission, he’s tasked with talking to all kinds of different heroes who certainly know who he used to be.

“you okay, kei? i’m gonna move onto the next eye, baby,” you whisper, so as not to startle him when he’s already gotten this relaxed. he nods, lost in thought.

not long after getting the job, keigo rushed to tell you the excellent news, and ask a simple request of you. he’d looked at you with his striking eyes, the skin around them empty and bare.

“so, y’know the marks i had around my eyes? the black birdie ones?” keigo seriously described it to you as if you’d never seen them a day in your life.

“of course, kei. why . . ?”

“so, i’ve gotta go into work and talk to people every day. i’m still hawks, the cool cool cool retired number two prohero, just without the wings and eye makeup.” his voice drifted off as he patted around behind him, momentarily expecting to be met with the softness of his downy vermillion feathers.

you nodded silently, heart squeezing sadly for him. he chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat, “anyway, i’d like you to do the eyeliner for me each day. i know, i know, it’s kinda ridiculous, but it would really mean a lot to me.”

keigo looks back wistfully, turning the memory over in his head a few times while you color in the wing and prepare to add the detail to his inner corner, all from memory. as the tip of the pen strokes over the delicate skin, he loosens up more, letting you nudge his face left and right without that nervous stiffness from before.

he notices the way your brows knit in concentration, the tight grip you’ve got on the eyeliner pen, and the lightness in which you use it on him. it’s ridiculous how something so small can mean this much—warmth rises to his cheeks and colors them something rosy.

“and . . done!” you exclaim, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “kei, you’ll love this.”

“lemme see the mirror, dovey,” keigo chuckles happily, gesturing for you to step to the side. as he stares into his reflection in the vanity, he can see red feathers surrounding his shoulders and the space behind them. a squint of his eyes has them fading away, and he clears his throat shakily to focus on the makeup.

behind him, you rest your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them soothingly as though you know what he’s thinking. the black makeup around his eyes and in the inner corners looks natural, complimenting his face perfectly. you’d managed to pull something this accurate off, just from memory—keigo sniffles, rising to his feet from the chair. he envelops you in a strong hug, tucking his face into your neck carefully so as not to smear your work.

“you did such a great job, dovey,” keigo whispers into your skin, fingers squeezing you. “i can’t wait for you to do this for me every morning.”

“really?” you ask, swaying a little with him in your arms. “my makeup skills are that good?”

“of course they are!” he exclaims, “but seriously though, thank you. i felt naked without the eyeliner.”

your cheeks warm and you giggle; keigo’s heart flutters with adoration, no longer grounded. he doesn’t want to let you go just yet, but he steps back curiously, fiddling around with the eyeliner pen. you gasp accusingly—he’d swiped it from you without letting you notice.

he flashes you a silly smile, dangling the pen from his fingertips with mirth sparkling in his gold eyes. “hey, mind if i try on you? we can match!”

[mayday2007]

Daryl Dixon nsfw alphabet

A/N: This is my first time writing smut and posting it on the internet for people to see, so be nice or imma hunt ya down (jkjk). Likes and reblogs are always appreciated. P.S if you see any mistakes, no you don't.

~

A= Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Contrary to popular opinion, I think that Daryl wouldn't quite get the whole concept of "aftercare" in the beginning. I think that all the poor guy has for reference is porn and Merle, I also recon that he was a virgin. Merle's preferred sex session was a "fuck-and-dump", so Daryl didn't think it was normal for people to "bask in the afterglow". But, eventually, with your guidance, he realised that it wasn't too bad, and gave it a go. Now, he can't have sex and not give you water and cuddles afterwards.

★

B=Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partners)

I think Daryl is more of an ass kinda guy. Sure, he likes looking at tits as much as the next dude, but there's something about a woman's ass and hips that draws him in. He likes to squeeze, and grope, anything to get him and you to cum.

He likes his arms and his hands. No two ways about it. I think he likes them because, I mean, they're handy. They are one of the sole reasons why he's helpful. Because he's good with his hands, and he's strong. But he doesn't just like them because of that, he likes them because you've said on multiple occasions that you like them. It makes him feel like a big, strong man.

★

C=Cum (basically anything to do with cum)

Daryl Dixon is a certified creampie lover. He can't help it. It's in his nature. It's just so warm and tight, he never wants to leave, so cumming inside you is his go to thing (if you guys don't have birth control pills, he'll wear a condom, but only until you find another pack, then he's cummin' inside at LEAST three times).

★

D=Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

He's waiting impatiently for the day that he has the courage to ask you to try bondage with him. The idea of his hands being bound, tied to a chair or bed and having a blindfold on so he can't see shit makes him horny as fuck. Like, he has wet dreams about it. He's laying on the bed, hands and ankles bound to the bed, and a blindfold on while your straddling his lap, doing whatever comes to your head to him... You've woken up in the night to pee and seen him, face flushed and a MASSIVE wet patch in his pants (underwear).

★

E=Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Like I said in the first one, I think Daryl is a virgin. He's got all his info about sex from Merle and porn. I mean, he done drugs before, he's jerked off before, but never has he had the opportunity to sink his cock into a woman's tight heat. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. Couldn't find a woman he wanted to give his virginity to. So, he remained a virgin until you came around, then he was fucking you like he should've done when he was a horny teenager.

★

F=Favourite position (this one goes without saying)

I recon cowgirl is his go-to. Like, he's in a daze when your ontop of him, riding him to your heart's content, bouncing eagerly and chasing your high while he just lays/sits there, head spinning and barely being able to form a coherent sentence. But, if not cowgirl then either reverse cowgirl or missionary. Reverse cowgirl has him seeing stars within a record time of about a minute and missionary feels more romantic, like he can connect more with you on a physical and sexual level. For some strange reason, I think he doesn't like doggy style, I think he thinks it's disrespectful.

★

G=Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humourous? etc.)

Too far gone off the deep end of pleasure from the moment he's buried to the hilt inside you to fully comprehend what's going on around him. It scares you sometimes how oblivious he is to the goings on around him. Like, a tree could fall down in your backyard and he's pleasing for you to let him cum.

★

H=Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

Not groomed at all. In fact, I'd even go as far as to say he hasn't shaved since he tried it once when he was 19. He found a razor and tried it, but he didn't like the way it felt, so he never did it again, not that you mind. The carpet does in fact not match the drapes, and is a slightly lighter shade of brown compared to his hair.

★

I=Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He likes to be intimate, but again, the poor guy hasn't a clue what he's doing when it comes to sex, so he tries his best. Once, he found some scented candles and lit them in time for you to come home from whatever chores you were doing that day. Sex lasted a long long time that day.

★

J=Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he first met you, it was a rarity to see him out of his tent/house/apartment because he was constantly jacking off thinking about you. He'd never been as horny in his life than he was when you both fist met and began to know eachother. He was constantly inside, stroking his cock and allowing himself to freely fantasize about you: what you would smell like, how you would say his name, his fast or slow you wanted to go with him, the works.

★

K=Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage. Has never done it but wants to do it. He's got a dangerous cream pie/breeding kink too (you can't have one without the other I will bury myself on this hill). He also got a fascination about you choking him. Just, being in your grasp trying to cum with limited oxygen sounds hot to him. But, poor baby's too shy to ask.

★

L=Location (favourite places to do the do)

In bed. It's safe, comfortable and your bathroom isn't too far away. I think he'd be down to do it in the woods, not just because of the primal aspect of being connected with nature or whatever, but like, the woods have been more of a home to Daryl Dixon in his whole life than a house ever was. But, anywhere you want to, he's down. Except in public, the risk of getting caught turns him on a bit but the sensible part of him speaks louder than his dick in this scenario, so he wouldn't be able to do it.

★

M=Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going?)

You, the essence of you, your shampoo and conditioner. Just, standing completely still, arms crossed listening to or watching something and shifting your weight from one foot to a other has him rock hard and ready to go. Like, you could just be sat down and this man is all over you. He's just a horny guy.

★

N=No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Hitting you. Because he had a childhood where being physically punished was a regular thing, he's gone off physical violence completely. I don't even think this man can watch and action movie with too much violence in it, he'll get uncomfortable or have to look away. That's why whenever he has conflict with another human being, he'll keep physical violence to a minimum and opt for shooting them in the head instead. Also, hardcore degradation is an absolute no-no.

★

O=Oral (preference in giving or recieving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give, eats you out like it's his favourite meal. He's rock hard from the moment he licks the first wet stripe up your dripping wet heat, grinding his hips into the mattress to relieve some of the pressure building up in his cock. When he's on the recieving end, however, it's a whole new story. He's whimpering, holding onto your hair and making a makeshift ponytail so he can bob your head up and down his length, causing you to choke. He doesn't mean to make you gag on his length, but when you suck him off as good as you do, he can't help it.

★

P=Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

To be honest, he starts off every time you have sex slow. He wants to be romantic and sensual, so he tries to take it slow. But, you moaning underneath/ontop of him and the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin has his head in a daze and he can't help but let his body take control and pound into you hard and fast, too eager to make you and himself cum.

★

Q=Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He'd do it, but only if it was safe and you had enough time. He fumbles with his belt when you have quickies. You undress like you've been practicing, only making him harder and fumble more with the belt that he'd somehow end up doing up tighter rather than ridding himself of it.

★

R=Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes and no. Yes, because he doesn't want it to be "just sex", he wants it to be fun, and a good time for both of you. But, no, because he hasn't tried it. It took him so long to finally get acclimatised to having sex, since it was so new to him, so why wouldn't it take him long to try something else that was equally as new to him.

★

S=Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Ages. He lasts so long it feels inhuman. At first, he just has one round and leaves, but the more he gets used to it, the more time he's willing to invest in it, the more he's going to put into it and the longer he's gonna last. The regular "fuck" lasts about an hour, and that's only the regular. Sometimes, he comes home and can't do anything else until he's fully rid his mind and body of stress, which can sometimes take a while.

★

T=Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Nope. Absolutely not. He doesn't see the point of it. He enjoys sex enough, so why bring toys into the equation? Also, it's the apocalypse, where the hell is he going to find a sex toy? It's not just that, either. Sex was a whole new thing for him, it took him a while to get used to, and I don't think he'd want to go further than the basics.

★

U=Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Like I said before, I think he'd be too far gone in his visit to cloud 9. But, if he was topping, I think he would tease. Saying foul shit like "ma dirty girl, ya like that?" "ya wanna cum all over this cock, huh?" "wanna fuck your man so badly, don't cha?"

★

V=Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Now, unpopular opinion: Daryl is a moaner. Think about it, he's a quiet man, barely has anything to say during any conversation, no matter how captivating it might be, so it only makes sense that he comes home and has his lover bouncing eagerly on his cock, it just has the poor man in a trance, so he can't help but let out a little noise.

★

W=Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He wants to fuck while your wearing some of his clothing (specifically his angel winged jacket). I think that the sight of your smaller frame in an article of his clothing would make him feral.

★

X=X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Baby boy is THICCC wid a triple 'c'. A good length without being stupidly long, so I'd say a good 5-6 inches while soft and a good 6-7 inches fully erect with a slight curve upwards, perfect for hitting that one spot inside you that has your vision blurred and specks of white adorning the outside.

★

Z=Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Well, it depends. If you've been going at it all night, he'd flop down beside you, and be dead ass asleep before he even had a chance to catch his breath. If it's the regular, he'd lay beside you, puffing while his head rests on your chest/your head rests on his chest. He falls asleep fast after the regular if your playing with his hair. Something about it relaxes him I to another dimension of sleep.

★

Tags:

@holdmytesseract @liliesdiary @vaniniweenie @dixons-sunshine @janiehellion @marvelcassey05 @ophelialaufey

[bonedo-enthusiast]

bnd's kinks 𐂐◯𓇋

A/N: i haven't written smut in years but i like how this turned out! :D i am canonically a sapphic, so idk what possessed me to write this but here we are. 😔 lowercase is intended as always, enjoy. :)

genre: smut

tws: kinks!, explicit sexual content, bdsm themes

pairing: legal!bnd x afab!reader (but i tried to make it gn!reader mostly)

wc: 2,188

MDNI!! (i have three other pg imagines on my blog, read those instead :p)

Sungho

praise, service top/bottom, foreplay, teasing (sort of), begging

i think he just really wants to make you feel good, by any means necessary, although he prefers to be gentle. 

he kind of strikes me as more vanilla than anything else, but he would love telling you how much he’s enjoying things. 

you’re on the bed, legs spread, with sungho slowly running his fingers across your skin. 

he looks down at you lovingly. “you’re so beautiful.” and you know he means it, with the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only other person in the world. 

he’s very slow, very deliberate because why would he rush things when he has all the time in the world? 

if he could, he would spend hours with you underneath him like this, your little whimpers like music to his ears. 

but sungho would feel bad making you wait oh so patiently for him, so he’d do exactly what you want. 

first, he’d trail soft kisses down your skin, making sure to suck and nip as he went. 

he’d attach himself to your nipple, swirling his tongue around it slowly while bringing his hand down to your inner thighs. 

your gasps and moans would only fuel his hard-on, its presence evident underneath his boxers. 

he liked it when you were completely naked and when he still had an article or two of clothing on because sungho knew you would often beg so sweetly, something he found so endearing. 

you begging for him… the love of his life needing him in a way that only he could satisfy. 

sungho was always good at drawing orgasms out of you, making you have at least two before he’d even consider orgasming himself. 

but when it comes to that point, he’d become a bit feverish. his grip on your hips would be almost tight enough to bruise as he pounded into you with vigor. 

he’d continue kissing you sloppily, praises leaving his mouth one after the other. 

“you feel so good… so pretty. shit, you’re so fucking hot…” 

Riwoo

mommy kink, praise, humiliation, dick slapping, hints of dacryphilia

i think riwoo’s usually pretty innocent-minded, and too shy to initiate anything even if he is having impure thoughts. 

so riwoo would just be minding his business, maybe playing league of legends on his pc. then you’d hug his neck from behind, resting your chin on his head. “how’s my baby doing?” 

he would blush at the use of ownership, but not take his eyes off of the screen. “good. my team’s winning.” 

“oh, that’s great! i’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” you run your fingers through his hair, causing a chill to go down riwoo’s spine. “can i join you? i’d like to watch.” 

he nods and you pull up a chair next to his, resting your head against his shoulder but not in a way that would hinder his gaming. 

he’d feel more nervous now, having an audience. he wants to make you proud, wants to hear you praise him again, so he locks in all of his attention to the screen in front of him. 

which is why he doesn’t at first notice your hand on his thigh, until your fingers crest against the edge of his waistband. 

he lets out a gasp and breaks his eye contact with the screen to glance at you. “wh…what are you doing?”

“what do you mean? i’m not doing anything, sweetheart. just keep playing your game.” your voice comes out innocent, but riwoo’s been dating you long enough to know that you in fact know exactly what you’re doing. 

but he also knows better than to protest, especially since he’s already a bit turned on from you just complimenting him. 

you notice that fact with the way his dick is already semi-hard. you let out a laugh and lightly slap his dick, making him let out a whine. “you’re already turned on and i haven’t even done anything. how pathetic…” 

riwoo inhales a shaky breath and blinks several times, trying his best to focus. 

when you undo his pants and pull down his boxers, he tries not to squirm even as the cool air in the room hits his fully erect dick.

you wrap a hand around it, gently running your thumb up and down the shaft.

he starts bucking his hips, so you remove your hand and slap his dick again.

riwoo whines and tears start to rim his eyes. “p-please…” 

“hmm? please what, baby?”

“please touch me… more… i need more.”

“you need more, huh? so the slut isn’t appreciating what i’m giving him? it’s not enough?”

he gulps. “n-no, it’s good. i-i just–” he’s cut off when you lick the tip of his dick, a strangled moan escaping his lips. 

“oh? did you like that? does that make my slut’s pretty dick feel good?” 

“yes… more please…” 

“please what?”

“mommy. please, mommy…” 

and how could you say no to that?

Jaehyun

praise, humiliation, choking, masochism, bondage

i think jaehyun just gives me major “i need to be punished” vibes ??

he’s a very hyper man, and i imagine he’d probably get on your nerves fairly easily.

“jaehyun, can you stop running around like that? i’m trying to watch this lecture.”

“i’m not running around.” he pouts. “i’m just having fun.”

“can you have fun more quietly?”

“it’s not my fault my partner cares more about their grades than their sweet, loving boyfriend.” 

“is that what this is about? you just want attention?” you scoff.

“maybe… i just miss you.” jaehyun frowns.

“so your plan is to piss me off? you never learn, do you? how many times do i have to punish you before you actually start to learn? you’re just a dumb slut, aren’t you?” 

jaehyun’s jaw would go slack, both surprised and turned on all in one.

“i asked you a question.”

“uh. y-yes…” 

“you’re gonna have to beg for it. convince me that you’re worth my time.”

“please…” he got down on his knees in front of you, resting his head on your thighs. “i want you so bad…” 

“do you now? well, why don’t you make yourself useful and go get the box?”

jaehyun bites his lip and nods before racing into your shared bedroom to grab the box full of sex toys that you own. when he gets back, your laptop is no longer on your lap and your eyes are fully on him. just what he wanted. 

he instinctively reaches down and palms himself through his shorts, until your voice breaks him out of his haze. “and what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“s-sorry, i really didn’t mean to.” jaehyun says quickly, placing the box in front of you. “really… it was an accident.” 

“accident or not, you’re testing my patience. looks like what i originally had in mind won’t be enough. i’m going to have to fuck some sense into you.” 

he doesn’t even protest, the arousal swirling within him. it’s almost too much, with the way that his dick strains against the only barrier between you and him. 

“lay down on the couch.” you say, opening the box and pulling out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs.

jaehyun’s eyes widen. “w-wait! i wanna touch you!”

“too bad. if you’re going to act like a slut, i’m going to treat you like one.” you put the handcuffs on him before attacking his lips with your own. you press his hands down over his head and straddle his legs, your clothed heat brushing against his erection.

“f-fuck…” jaehyun groans in between your kisses. 

you pull away only to wrap a hand around his soft neck, squeezing gently as you rub yourself against him. “do you like that, slut?” 

“yes, i like it so m-much…” 

“mm, good boy.”

Taesan

dom/sub, humiliation, edging, sadism, teasing

i love taesan as much as the next onedoor, but this man can be mean 😭 like he’s a sweetheart don’t get me wrong but he really has his moments where i’m like damn dude. 

so i think that this could easily be applied to his sexual preferences. 

being a songwriter of boynextdoor does not come without its challenges, so he’s often stressed and worn out from the sheer amount of responsibilities he has placed on him. so of course he needs an outlet for all that stress… cue you, his wonderful loving partner.

you’d hear the front door to the apartment close all the way from your shared bedroom, a huge smile on your face knowing that it was taesan coming home after a long day. 

you race into the living room to greet him, finding him standing there oddly still with a dark look in his eyes. 

you immediately freeze, mouth slightly agape as he slowly trails his eyes up your body. when they meet your own, you can see the desire within them. “go back to the bedroom. when i come back there, i expect you to be fully naked.” 

you stand there for a few more seconds, taking in his words before nodding and hurriedly rushing back to the bedroom. 

you’ve barely taken off your underwear, which was your last article of clothing, when taesan bursts into the room. 

you could practically feel the heat of his eyes as he approaches you, not bothering to close the door. “fuck, i’ve been waiting all day for this…” 

he immediately wraps you up in his arms and kisses you passionately before (gently) throwing you on the bed and crawling on top of you.

he makes haste with discarding his own clothing before attaching his lips to your neck, you writhing below him with soft whimpers. 

if you’d squirm too much, he’d hold your hips as a warning. 

but if you squirmed again regardless, he would slap your inner thigh and grab your jaw, making eye contact with you. “don’t fucking move.” 

which is easier said than done, and he knows that but doesn’t care because he loves being mean. <3

so he just watches as you helplessly try to stay still, even as he brings his fingers dangerously close to your sensitive areas. 

“aww, poor baby… you want to move so bad, don’t you?”

“taesan, please just fuck me.”

“tsk… you should know better than to ask for that so early on. what would be the fun in that? i think i’d much rather watch you come undone with just my fingers alone. wouldn’t you like that too, baby?” 

you nod feverishly, choking out a moan when his finger circles your hole.

and when he’s fingering you with intensity, you know you’re about to come undone exactly as he wanted. 

your moans increase and get higher in pitch, your orgasm right there.

you feel it building up, just about to come when taesan suddenly pulls his fingers away, leaving you clenching around nothing.

“n-no! taesan, please! please, please…”

“shhh…” he places a finger against your lips. “just relax. you’ll get what you want, baby… just let me have some fun first, yeah?” and then he’s back to attacking your neck. 

Leehan

switch, role play, power dynamics 

idk why but i just think leehan would find the idea of role play funny, something he’d want to try out as a joke… but seeing you in that sexy nurse outfit has his head spinning in a way he didn’t plan on. 

the way the tight uniform shows off every one of your curves has leehan immediately wanting to pounce on you like he’s some animal. 

but he’d restrain himself, because he’s curious where this will go. 

and you being the fantastic nurse that you are means that you have to give him a well-rounded checkup. 

so of course you have to test every nerve to make sure that his motor functions are working properly. 

you start with the usual, gently tapping your rubber mallet against his knee before working your way up. 

he responds well to your touch, his breath hitching when you brush against his dick, it already being hard. 

which is convenient because you need to make sure that was in working order, too. 

“do you regularly engage in sexual intercourse, mr. kim?”

leehan is taken aback by your question, blushing a little. “yes…”

“and do you use protection, sir?”

he gulps, liking the way you were referring to him. it became physically evident in the way that his dick twitched ever so slightly, begging for friction. “yes.” 

“good. very, very good.” you make a show of writing on a blank notepad. “i’m going to need to further examine you, especially because it’s been a while since you’ve been to get a checkup.” 

you scoot closer to him on the stool and gesture at his pants. “would you mind taking these off, mr. kim?” 

leehan nods and quickly unbuttons and unzips his pants, pulling them down to around his ankles. the tent in his boxers stand proud, a small patch of wetness on the cotton fabric. 

you reach out and palm him through the fabric, achingly slow, earning a hiss from leehan. 

“just relax, alright? this examination might take a while…”

[tinylilacbun]

d o c t o r a p p o i n t m e n t ⋆ 💉 ˚ ｡ ⋆

Rafe's holding you on his hip as he enters the building, walking straight to the receptionist, flashing the lady sitting there a quick smile. "We got an appointment, Y/N Cameron."

She types some things into her computer, looking up at Rafe with a kind smile, gesturing with her hand towards the waiting room. "Please, take a seat. The doctor will call you shortly."

He nods, making his way to the waiting area and sits down on one of the chairs, rubbing your back when you cling tighter onto him, hiding your face in your lovie.

Rafe knows you hate going to the doctor, the bright fluorescent lights, the scent, hearing infants or other children cry from the examination rooms, just everything.

You only nod in response, pressing your cheek against his chest again as you grip his shirt tightly, the soothing circles he draws on your back making you only partly forget where you are at the moment.

He looks down at you, seeing the small pout on your face as you gaze up at him with big eyes. "Hey, don't gimme that look. It'll be over before you know it. We can get some ice cream after, yeah?"

Soon enough and much to your dismay the door to one of the examination rooms opens, your doctor standing there with a clipboard in hand as she calls out your name, making you tense up on Rafe's lap.

He stands up from the chair, still having you tucked into his chest as walks past the doctor into the room, setting you down on the examination table and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before taking a few steps back.

"Hello there, little one, how we feeling today?" Dr. Lavey asks, pulling on some gloves as she walks closer to you, taking the stethoscope from around her neck.

You glance at your father and he gives you a nod of encouragement. "Good..." You mumble out quietly.

"Still not used to me I see." She chuckles, starting with the usual check up, listening to your lungs and heart, looking over eyes, ears, throat, and noting down your height and weight as well.

Rafe is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and keeping his eyes trained on you, knowing you tend to overwhelm quickly, but you're doing rather good today.

That's until the doctor prepares your shot, instantly sitting up on your knees and making grabby hands for him with a whine.

He moves over to you, placing his hands on your waist to help you stand up on the table, sighing when you quickly take hold of his shirt, burrowing your face in his chest as you let out a fearful whimper.

"Shh, shh." He soothes you, rubbing your back and preparing himself for the upcoming tears that will most definitely well up in your eyes soon.

Dr. Lavey comes closer with the needle in hand, holding a gloved one out to you. "Can you show me your arm, Sweetie?"

You only shake your head in response. Rafe rubs his hand down to your arm, gently grabbing your wrist to hold your arm out to the doctor. "You're alright, I'm right here, princess."

The doctor gives him a grateful smile before lifting the sleeve of your shirt a little and disinfecting your skin with an alcohol wipe, placing the needle against your skin, and slowly injecting you with contents in it.

You whimper again at feeling the shot, letting out a quiet sob against your father's shirt, burrowing your face even more into the fabric.

"There, I'm so proud of you." He praises you, continuing to rub your back as Dr. Lavey withdraws the needle from your skin and places a dinosaur bandaid on your arm.

"All done now." She smiles, disposing of the needle and her gloves, retrieving a lollipop from the jar on her desk.

You peel yourself away from Rafe a little, eyeing the candy and taking it from her outstretched hand but quickly hide back into your father's chest for safety.

"What do we say?" Rafe asks, tapping your back expectantly.

"Fank you..." You whisper and the doctor smiles at you.

"You're Welcome. You're good to go. I'll see you again in six months for another routine checkup, okay?" She tells Rafe, sitting down at her desk.

He simply nods, scooping you into his arms and kissing your forehead as he makes his way out of the room, walking to the receptionist to make a new appointment.

Soon you're strapped back in your car seat, struggling to open the wrapper of your lollipop, letting out a frustrated whine.

"Need some help?" Rafe chuckles, taking it from your hand and unwrapping it swiftly, handing it back to you and ruffles your hair as you pop the candy into your mouth.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Exhausted, Papyrus fell on his knees in the dust. It was covering everything in the room, from the floor to the ceiling. The main door was gone, like most of the windows. Thankfully, no monster tried to enter the balcony, too high. Papyrus crawled to pick up the door, still in one piece by some miracle, and put it in its place. The hinges were gone with a part of the wall, but he forced it to hold by nailing it with some planks that held the windows closed and was now on the floor.

He picked up his phone, hidden deep in his armor. His hands were still shaking with the adrenaline. Sans left about twenty messages, asking if he was fine, then warning him Frisk was gone, then asking him again if he was alright, more and more distressed as the hours went by.

Papyrus simply sent: "Alive. Frisk here." before walking to the kitchen to make sure the child was fine. Several bullets ricocheted against the closet door, but it faced the brunt efficiently. He cleared the chairs out of the way and opened the door, maybe too brutally.

Frisk screamed out of terror and threw themselves in the back of the cabinet. They curled up on themselves, hands on the head, sobbing uncontrollably. They were shaking as well.

Papyrus flinched. He saw himself at five years old, in the same position, as Sans was screaming and fighting for their lives in the living room. This was not a world to grow up. No child should ever be born in this hellish place. Bitter, he felt his soul squeezed painfully. It was his fault. He should have brought the child back to the Ruins. Frisk shouldn't have assisted to any of this.

The skeleton kneeled at their level. He never had been really talented to comfort people.

"Frisk? It's over, they're gone. You can come out."

He leaned a hand towards the human. Frisk kicked it away and tried to get as far as they could from him in the closet. Papyrus tried to stay neutral, but his face betrayed for a few seconds how much it hurt him. He didn't want Frisk to be scared of him. Not after everything they went through to protect them.

The skeleton looked around for a second and noticed a hole in the closet door. Small, but enough for a child to witness everything that happened outside. Frisk saw him slaughter attackers and end monsters on the floor without mercy. Papyrus felt guilty. He gave the child some space and sat in front of the closet, unsure what to do.

No Weakness, Chapter 3.

_______________________________________

Hello, hello!

I commissioned this masterpiece to @seirindono, a French (yeah, team French!) illustrator who works on a multi AU universe called The Missing Scarf, which is a banger. Really cool comic with lots of great characters that you really want to read. Go read it!

I wasn't sure on which fic I wanted a drawing at first, but since we already got one for Horrortale: Rotten Apple (thanks again Zeragii, love you), why not No Weakness?

It's a post-pacific Underfell fic where instead of breaking the Barrier, Sans refused Frisk to fight Asgore and brought them back in safety to Toriel. Now Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Toriel and Sans are hiding the child away, trying not to get killed.

The story however is about Undyne and Papyrus' friendship. After Papyrus surprises Undyne kissing Asgore, he is promoted to general of the Royal Guard. Except Papyrus knows something is really wrong here, since that role was obviously supposed to Undyne's. But the more he tries to understand, the more people try to dissuade him from learning more. All the hints lead to Asgore, but how to reach the monarch without getting himself killed, and by extension, those he cares the most about? Between his duty and his friendship, Papyrus will have to make a choice.

I asked for one of my favorite parts ever, which is the moment Frisk realizes how things really work in Underfell, after witnessing Papyrus committing carnage right after he got promoted to General. It's tradition :D

Anyway, if you want to read the story, it's right here. I'm on summer break right now, but new chapters are coming soon!

Thanks again to Seirindono for their amazing work, I love it so much <3 Really great artist, don't hesitate to commission them! They're really nice and pays great attention to details. It was really cool collaborating with you <3

Go send them some love!

[grandline-fics]

Oou can you do one piece men catching you in their clothes?? I've always liked this trope (?) cause i just find it so cute especially one who have like giant coats and capes like coras :D

DESCRIPTION: They catch you wearing their clothes

WARNINGS: nothing, just fluff. established relationship with Crocodile. Mutual crush in Cora's/Rosi's

CHARACTERS: Crocodile, Corazon

WORDS: 1,749

A/N: Thank you for this request! I'm a sucker for this trope. Since no specific characters were requested I went for Cora and Croc because of the big coats. If you'd like any other characters for this idea just let me know! This was my first time writing for Cora so hopefully I did him justice and that you're happy with the end results for these.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

CROCODILE

You admired Crocodile for his rigid work ethic and extreme focus, always making sure everything was done perfectly and without error. Even in the days of running a casino simply to act as a cover for his real dealings in Alabasta he made sure it was run smoothly and properly. However sometimes his hard work interfered with any time you two could actually spend together because of how focussed he'd become. You never needed to bring this up to him because when he did have the time to tear himself away from his work it was you he immediately sought and would comment about how much he’d been away from you. You were more than used to his behaviour by now. However one afternoon as you leant against the doorframe and watched him work diligently a curious thought that you’d never really considered before crept into your mind; what would pull his focus and make Crocodile immediately stop working?

At first you decided to start small, bringing him lunch and set it on his desk, watching as he murmured a thanks and managed to perfectly skewer the sandwich with his hook and ate it without any spilling out. As he ate, his eyes remained on the paperwork he was writing. With pursed lips you stepped behind his chair and slowly draped your arm around his shoulder. Your hand settled on his chest just as he finished eating. “Hey, love. Can-?”

“Anything you want.” Crocodile’s response was automatic and his body was still unmoving from his work. You couldn’t help but find his reaction endearing, that Crocodile's want to give you anything you desired managed to break partially through his focus but it wasn't the real break in attention you wanted. 

You weren’t even going to initially ask him for anything in particular, just a mundane question to see if he'd answer. Now though he'd practically given you permission for anything you could think of. Smiling you pressed a quick kiss against his cheek and straightened, your fingers skimming against the large fur-lined coat draped over his shoulders as you did so and suddenly an idea came to you. With casual strides you made your way to your shared room with Crocodile and threw open the doors to his wardrobe. Your eyes roamed over his clothes with appreciation, everything made with the best quality materials by the finest tailors. Sometimes you felt hesitant to touch such finery but not today, he'd given you permission after all. Immediately your eyes went to your favourite coat he owned. The deep black fabric and matching fur trim were simple but striking and with the gold buttons and dark green satin lining it was just enough to draw anyone's eye. 

With a hum you slipped the coat on and grinned in the mirror at how the garment wrapped around you. It was so long on you that it trailed behind you. Leaving the room you walked back down the corridor, trying not to enjoy how his coat billowed behind you. It made sense know why he wore them now. You glanced up to see you were nearing his office and you decided that first you were going to simply walk by the open door. However you were no sooner passed the doorway when a gust of sand appeared and wrapped around your waist, lifting you off of your feet and pulling you backwards and into the room with the door closing behind you. Perched on Crocodile’s desk you stared at your lover as he sat back in his seat, watching you intently and his paperwork abandoned. “Care to explain?”

“Was curious.” You shrugged with a triumphant smile, having succeeded your goal.

“About?” 

“Wondered what it’d take to distract you from your work.”

“Dear, just because I’m looking at my work doesn't mean I’m never aware of your presence.” Crocodile explained as he gently took hold of the lapel of his coat that you were wearing and pulled you closer. Usually he loved the sight of you out of clothes but he had to admit seeing you in something of his only deepened his feelings of possessiveness, an extra claim that you were his   not that that was ever in doubt. “I will admit this is a sight I could get used to, although I think my work would certainly suffer as a result.”

“Still not seeing a downside to this.” You grinned up at him with a smug smile as you settled your hand over his. “I’m keeping this one by the way.”

“My love, it’s a commissioned make. No other exists. Wouldn’t you settle for your own? One that fits you better?” He was mostly teasing. Of course if your heart was set on it he wouldn’t object but would still plan on stealing it from you should the occasion call for it.

“I think this one suits me just fine but I'll be kind and share but only if I’m repaid with a kiss.”

“You have yourself a deal.”

CORAZON / ROSINANTE

Rosinante stared out at the wintery expanse blankly, his dark eyes set on the people bustling about in the town below. They were used to the terrain, born and raised on the winter dominated island. With it being a day with light snowfall and cracks of blue appearing in the sky the people seemed in lighter spirits. Nice to see but it made his task of observing a possible threat harder. It was rare to have a mission set for him by his brother also overlap and bring some good for the Marines too but they did happen. If this man did prove himself to be a danger, he’d be dealt with swiftly and it’d be one less criminal in the world. Doffy would be satisfied too, not that that particular aspect would be a big factor in his actions but it would mean his undercover role would remain intact.

He blinked out of his concentration when the cigarette in his mouth was promptly stolen from his painted lips and he looked to see you stub it out into the snow with a low fizzle. Rosinante said nothing and continued to observe you as you settled onto the flattened patch of snow beside him. Feeling his stare you met his gaze and smiled sweetly. “Don't pout. I’m just looking out for your health here. Any movement?” 

At your question, Rosinante activated his power to create the soundproof area for you both. While you were both concealed from the view of others he never liked to take any chances of your conversations to be heard. With you here, your own cover was just as at risk as his should the wrong person find out and the last thing he wanted was to put you in danger even though you too had given your life to that of a double agent and spy. “Nothing yet.”

Getting to hear Rosinante’s deep voice always made you happy, part of you always thought he might be lonely in some strange way in having to remain silent in order to keep his true role a secret. It also made you happy because it meant you were someone he trusted in revealing his voice too, and what a lovely voice it was too. Such a shame practically no-one got to hear it. Knowing your roles and what you were here to do, you both kept conversation to a minimum, Rosinante using his notepad to make longer notes to you while also keeping the feathers of his coat in front of his mouth to hide his minimal verbal responses just in case someone should spot you both and see his lips moving.

For ages you both sat and fulfilled your watch until you both noticed the sun setting. Still no further forward in confirmation of the threat and his rumoured weapons smuggling from his store, you both knew that you’d have another day of investigating ahead of you. With a tired groan you stood and finally took note of how cold and numb your limbs were because of the snow. Smiling you offered your hand to your partner and helped him get to his feet. 

However his unfortunately chronic clumsiness finally reared its head and Rosinante tumbled over, knocking you back down onto the untouched snow pile away from where you'd both been sitting in and now you were soaked and your body immediately began to tremble. With chattering teeth and shaking hands you allowed yourself to be pulled out of the snow by a very apologetic Rosinante who'd managed to stay dry. You could barely brush the excess snow off of yourself and seeing your struggle, your mission partner stepped in, dusting you off as gently as possible but only kept his movements reserved for your head and shoulders. As much as he’d known his attraction for you, he refused to touch you in anyway that would make you uncomfortable regardless of how innocent his intentions were. He just knew he’d need to get you warm fast to avoid you getting sick.

You’d never been more happy to step into the room at the inn you and Rosinante were sharing, making a beeline for the bathroom to shower and get warm. When you were changed into fresh clothes you felt the difference but the chill still clung to your body and you shivered harshly as you stepped out into the room, confused to see Rosinante was gone but the fire in the room was burning with his feather coat hanging near it. Swiftly you hurried forward and bundled the coat into your arms to avoid another accident from occurring. With a sigh and shake of your head you went to set his coat on his bed only to pause when you felt how soft and warm it was. Unable to resist you pulled it on and curled up in one of the armchairs. Finally feeling your body heat you sighed in satisfaction.

Rosinante returned not long after with an extra blanket that he’d been searching for under his arm. He froze at the sight and his heart involuntarily began to beat faster. Seeing you so peaceful and wrapped up in his clothes it was more than he could bear. He didn’t think his affection and attraction for you could grow anymore but it did and from such a simple thing. It made him all the more resolved to ensure that he would keep you safe.

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[imtryingbuck]

Saving Sergeant Barnes

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: she’s trapped just like the winter soldier, she tries to get him out and safe.

Word count: 6,981

Warnings: angst. fluff. swearing. slight domestic abuse. nicknames (bear - Bucky & dove - reader). don’t follow the films.

Masterlist

The only sounds made were from her heels as she walked down the empty dark grey walled corridor, the walls were once white though over time they became darker from years of neglect.

Like most things in this place.

Navigating through the hallways became easier now that she had been doing it for ten years, day in day out. Her father laughed at the fifteen year old after she had gotten lost and had a panic attack because she couldn’t find where she needed to be.

Straightening her white jacket drawing in a deep breath before slowly exhaling she turned the corner coming face to face with four agents standing guard. They stepped aside, one opening the door for her. Her stomach churned at seeing all of the agents with their guns pointed at the man in the chair.

“But I knew him” the man famously known in the base as the Winter Soldier said.

“Prep him-“

“Sir-“

“I told you to prep him Y/n. Do not make me tell you again”

“B-but he’s been out of-“

“Y/n, do as he says” Rumlow mumbled under his breath.

Stepping forward slowly she walked over to the man telling him to lay back watching as he did, she hated this part. No matter how many times she was forced to do it. “I’m sorry” she whispered before flicking on the switch, pressing a few buttons. Flinching as his screams rang out in the room, flinching even more when she felt an arm wrap around her waist tugging her backwards.

“You did a good job baby” the voice murmured into her ear.

She was ordered to turn the machine off and follow the agents as they dragged the Winter Soldier to his cell. Keeping her head down she followed behind them. Sighing, closing her eyes as the agents dropped the man carelessly on the dirty cold ground, shutting the cell door behind the two agents who she couldn’t remember the names of she turned her attention back to the man on the ground.

“I-I’m s-so sorry, I h-hate hurting you”

“W-wh-who are you?”

“I’m Y/n. I promise I’m not going to hurt you anymore”

“D-Dove?”

Choking back the sob at the nickname he had given her five years prior she nodded with a small smile. “T-the man on the bridge? Do you know-“

“Blond”

“He was blond?”

Nodding he looked around the room as if he was trying to find something but she couldn’t figure out what as his room was bare apart from a stained ripped mattress and a toilet that was dirty in the corner.

“D-do you remember him?”

Nodding again his eyes bounced around more quicker, the blue of his eyes turning dark with unshed tears. “D-Dove?”

“I’m here”

“I-I-I’m scared”

“I k-know Bear-“

“Bucky”

“What?”

“T-the man on the bridge? Said Bucky”

“Do-do you think that’s your name?” 

“I-I don’t know Dove”

“That’s o-okay. Bear what are you looking for?”

“I-I don’t know” sighing he looked up at her, a small shy smile on his lips he shrugged “h-he had a shield”

“A shield?”

“I-it was red a-and silver l-like my arm and blue”

She knew who exactly who he was talking about. Captain America a man who should have died when he crashed the plane into the icy water of North Atlantic. When she heard that he had finally been found after over sixty years she couldn’t take her eyes away from the tv screen as the news broke.

Nodding slowly she knew she had to do some research in hopes to understand how Captain America knew the broken man in front of her. “I-I’m going to help you Bear, I promise. Just hold on for a little longer for me okay?”

“O-okay. I tr-trust you Dove”

Y/n knew she had to be careful, be smart about how she was going to get Hydras best Asset out of the base. She knew that she couldn’t draw attention to herself.

Though that was easier said than done.

“I’ll see you soon Bear, behave and you won’t get hurt okay”

“Dove-Dove don’t leave me pl-please” his whimpered whisper broke her heart.

“I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep, I promise” he nods and crawls on to the broken mattress, her heart breaks at seeing the six foot super soldier trying to make himself small by curling up, trying to pull his knees closer to his chest.

Moving towards him she ran her fingers through his greasy hair, scratching his scalp lightly she watched as his eyes began fluttering closed.

“I promise I’ll get you out. I promise”.

“Y/n you’re late.”

“Sorry father”

Sitting down she kept her head down as her father continued talking to the man on her left, her stomach flipped when she felt his hand on her thigh. Over the past four years she’s perfected acting as if the touch of the mans hands touching her didn’t affect her, even if she wanted to be sick.

Her father sat at the head of the dining table, he was laughing about something that Nick Fury had said in a meeting. Alexander Pierce was smug about being able to infiltrate SHIELD, them unknowingly helping Hydra.

Growing up with Pierce being her father was a truly an unfortunate fate. He was incredible at playing the doting, caring father around others but behind closed doors he was cold, vicious. When Y/n was younger she swore she would get whiplash from his behaviour, never truly knowing what was happening, one minute he was so loving in front of others even in front of other members of Hydra but the moment they were alone he didn’t want anything to do with her.

For years she couldn’t understand what was wrong with her. For years she always wanted her father’s approval. For years she wished her mum was still alive.

Four and a half years ago Pierce went into the west wing of the mansion that was Y/ns part of the home disturbing her peace, telling her that she was going to be getting married. Leaving no room for argument. Three weeks later she was getting married to the man now on her left.

Brock Rumlow.

No one battered an eye at the fact that he was nearly twenty years older than her. No one cared that Y/n cried throughout the whole ceremony. No one cared enough to ask her if she was okay as she sat there in a tight dress looking visibly uncomfortable.

Y/n couldn’t complain too much as Brock was almost never home, always busy with god knows what or with who. Luckily for her when he was home he tend to leave her be, the only time she couldn’t escape him was a night in bed.

“-Y/n are you even listening? Rumlow sort your wife out.” Her father’s voice pulled her out of the void she was falling into. Pierce always seemed to address her as ‘Rumlows wife’ never as his daughter, something that she had become accustomed to in the four and half years she was forced to marry Brock.

“Baby, it’s important that you listen-” Brock tries before Pierce interrupts him, telling him that he needs to be firmer in controlling his wife. Y/n took a deep breath exhaling just as Brock’s hand comes into contact with her cheek. Again, Pierce instructed him and of course he listens.

“Good. Now where was we? Oh yeah, Soldat needs to be wiped aga-“

“Father we can’t. We do-“

“Brock.” Is all he says, and she knows what’s coming. Deep breath in, slowly exhaling. Three times, after each hit.

“We are wiping the asset again Y/n-“

“B-but if you do he will die a-an-and then we won’t have the deadliest assassin in the world doing our bidding” god she hated saying we and our, she wanted no part of Hydra, she despised them with every fibre of her being. But she knew in order not to be hit again she needed to seem like she was happy to be a part of the organisation. Act as if her throat wasn’t closing up to keep the bile down.

“Brock-“

“Sir she has a point, we can’t afford to lose him right now”

Sitting silently for the longest thirty seconds of her life Pierce nodded “Very well. But the moment he starts acting out he’s going straight in the chair” Begrudgingly nodding Y/n kept her head down as she pushed her food around the plate blanking out the rest of the conversation that her father and Brock was having.

Not long after dinner Y/n was left alone with Brock after he led her up the stairs to their part of the home, keeping his hand on her back the moment the door closed Brock gripped her face gently in his hands gazing on the damage he had done to her cheek during dinner.

“Baby… baby I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay”

“No it’s not baby, I’m sorry but you know I had no choice, you know how your father is”

Keeping quiet she nodded lightly, her finger twisting around her diamond ring. This always happened, Pierce would order Brock to hurt her and then once they were alone Brock would apologise.

The only problem with him apologising is that it didn’t just stop at him verbally saying it. No. No to Brock he had to make up for what he did by being on top of her, both naked.

And that night was no different.

Closing her eyes she saw the bright blue eyes belonging to her Bear.

The Winter Solider was back out on a mission so therefore she didn’t need to be in the base, and since everyone else was busy it meant that she could use the computer freely, as long as she made sure she deleted the history. Otherwise she’d be in trouble. Something she definitely didn’t want to happen again.

Typing in Captain America she found out a lot about him, how he went from a skinny, ill guy to the bulky super soldier that somehow managed to survive sixty plus years by being frozen. She learned about his best friend that he had lost whilst they were on a mission during World War Two. Seeing the photo of them both her heart stilled at seeing Bear. Though he looked younger, cleaner despite he was in the middle of a war, short haired. Even though the photo was in black and white she knew it was him by his eyes.

Maybe if she had Captain Americas help she could get Bear to safety, she thought to herself as she paced around her bedroom. Bear-James Buchanan Barnes she found out, said that Steve called him Bucky which obviously meant that the other super solider remembered Bear.

He was bound to help. Surely. Hopefully.

Now the only problem was how was she going to get to New York without being seen or caught by her father, Brock or the rest of Hydra.

Two weeks after finding out the real identity of the man she affectionately named Bear, two agents came into her office to get her informing her that the asset was misbehaving. Running into his cell she sees Brock using the electric shock rod on Bear-James. “Brock stop! Stop it. I c-can talk him down”

“Do it then otherwise I’m telling Pierce”

“You all need to leave-“

“No. No I’m not leaving you in here with him”

“He won’t hurt me. I promise”

Brock’s eyes went to the solider back to her and huffed knowing what she was saying true, their asset for some reason never showed any violence towards her. And honestly that pissed him off. He wished just once the asset would harm her so he could step him and save her, maybe that would make her love him. “Fine. But we’ll be outside”

“O-okay” sighing a breath of air once the door was closed behind Brock she moved quickly to James pulling him into her arms “it’s okay now I’m he-“

“Y-y-you pr-promised”

“I know-“

“You promised they wo-wouldn’t hurt me if I-I behave a-and I was I swear”

“Oh, oh Bear-“

“It’s Bucky. My names Bucky”

“You remember?”

“Ye-yes. I had to fight Captain America an-and he knows me Dove. How does he know me?”

“From a long time ago Bucky-“

“Bear”

“What?”

“You call me Bear”

“Okay. Okay you knew him a long time ago Bear and-“

“Times up Y/n. He needs to go back in the chair” Brock said interrupting her. His brown eyes focusing on her hands holding his, feeling disgusted at the fact that she could happily touch a monster but not him. In their four and half years of marriage he had only held her hand once and that was at a charity event that Hydra was hosting, the second people turned their attention to Pierce she pulled her hand away from his.

“N-no you promised you wouldn’t tell him”

“I didn’t. He wants it done so move aside”

“It-it will kill him Brock and you know this”

“Move Y/n”

When she didn’t move away like he told her to do he stomped over grabbing her by her arm in a painful grip pulling her up, pointing his gun at Bucky when he moves closer to Y/n. She knew if Bucky/the winter soldier sensed she was in pain it was going to be game over for all eleven agents cramming themselves into his cell.

Knowing if she complies with Brock it wouldn’t end in a bloodbath, standing up she tells Bucky to stand down and to comply. Even if she hated what was to come she couldn’t let him be killed because she wouldn’t listen.

Both of them were walked down to the room where the scientist where getting the chair ready. Brock whispered ‘I’m sorry’ in her ear, thinking it was because of how he grabbed her arm she just nodded.

“What’s going on?” She whispered as soon as they reached the room.

“I told you. I’m sorry” Brock says, his eyes finding the ground more interesting.

Inside the room was the chair that she would be made to order Bucky to sit in and to turn on, the same chair that made him release the most gut wrenching scream that haunts her nightmares every night. She had seen it so many times she had lost count, what she hadn’t seen before was the chair next to it.

It looked exactly the same on its right. But newer, free from the scratch marks from Bucky’s nails. Free from the pain it was a part of.

The door came open and in walked Pierce fixing his suit jacket smiling at Y/n. A swivel chair was pushed forward by an agent, Pierce thanked him and sat down. It was that one word that she knew something was wrong. It was him saying ‘thanks’ to an agent that makes her realise that something was very wrong. Pierce never said thanks or please to anyone, let alone to an agent.

Pierce looked at Rollings who had Bucky by the arm, then moved his gaze towards Y/n. Rollings pushed Bucky forward towards the chair, ordering him to sit. Bucky’s eyes went straight to Y/n silently asking if he should, he doesn’t move until she nods at him.

“You know. You know what I hate the most about you Y/n? It’s that you never seem to want to follow in my footsteps. I have done everything for you since your mother met a very painful ending, oh shit yeah I never told you how she died did I? Well it’s quite funny actually, you see the bitch was trying to leave, trying to escape from me. ME! The one who gave the ungrateful cow everything I had, she was trying to leave with you so I… do you want to guess what I did? Answer me, do you want to know?”

“W-what did-“

“I ordered your Bear to kill her. You was five? No six? Yeah you was six and I made you watch as your precious Bear kill your mummy. He crushed her windpipe and well… he kind of got carried away, how you ask? He bashed her skull in. You were crying so much that you puked up.”

“S-Sir-“ Brock weakly attempts. He had never knew of how Y/n’s mum had died, hearing it and hearing his wife’s muffled sobs caused him to say something.

“What Rumlow? It’s true. It’s about time she wakes up and realises that her Bear isn’t good, he took her mummy away” Pierce snaps back, his tone mocking towards the end of his sentence. “Anyway. You need punishing so, Brock strap your wife into the only available chair”

“N-n-no plea-Dad! Please-“ her pleads fell on deaf ears as Pierce just stared at her showing no emotion or remorse for what he was going to do. Strapped in the chair she looked over at Bucky seeing his chest rise and fall in quick succession “Bear it-it’s okay. Calm down”

“Rumlow your wife keeps making a fool out of you. Shame really. Now let’s get this over and done with, I have a meeting with Fury”

Her eyes stayed on Bucky’s, even when the metal pads came down and he was forced to look ahead, her eyes never left his face. Her heart rate skyrocketing as it was her turn to stare ahead. Bucky chose to stare at the ceiling whilst she stared at her father.

With the blood roaring loudly and painfully in her ears she didn’t register the scientist counting down from ten - just like Pierce had told them too. She didn’t flinch at hearing Bucky’s screams as they filled the room.

The loud noise of the machine pierced through the roaring. Her eyes scrunched closed. Her throat almost felt like it was being ripped out as she released a deafening scream.

Everybody flinched. Even Pierce.

Once it was over she started coughing violently as blood poured out of her mouth. She locked eyes with Pierce before her vision blurred and everything turned black.

After slowly gaining consciousness she awoke in the arms of Brock, he spent several minutes running his fingers through her hair, apologising for not stopping Pierce. Playing the dotting husband by helping her stand and staying by her side until she could stand up on her own.

Brock knew it, Y/n knew it, everyone around them knew that she did not love him. He was actually surprised that she hadn’t tried to kill him in his sleep or “accidentally” push him down the stairs. Hell she had the chance, many times throughout their marriage. Brock tried to convince himself that she would eventually come around to the idea of them being together, finally feel the same for him as he did for her though he knew it was wishful thinking.

At first he was against marrying her but over the course of their marriage he had grown to fall in love with her. Only once did he stray from their marriage and to say he was a heartless man when it came to his job he felt truly guilty for what he had done, for weeks he didn’t touch her and whilst he missed her touch he knew she was happier throughout that time.

A month had gone by since Y/n had her mind wiped and in that month Brock had to admit he hated the new Y/n. She was more distant than before, she flinched every time he touched her, she never made eye contact with him. She had gone back to being how she was when they first got married.

“I’m going to New York in two days, would you like to come with me?” He asked one night as they sat down to eat dinner.

“Oh o-okay” Once again Brock was left disappointed by her head casted downwards and her hands twisting together.

He didn’t realise that by mentioning New York it brought back the memories of Bucky, her plan of saving him, she needed to find Steve. Her eyes moved around the table as the memories came flashing back.

Two days later they were in New York, Y/n was happy that Brock wasn’t around so she could create a plan on how to get to Steve. She couldn’t risk being seeing with him in public, going to SHIELDS headquarters were definitely out of the question.

And she hadn’t heard about Bucky or the asset as they called him. She didn’t even know where or how he was. In that month that has passed after her father had her memory wiped she hadn’t even seen Pierce let alone talked to him. Brock made no comments about Bucky either.

On the fourth day of arriving in New York Y/n decided to take a walk after finally being able to pull her aching eyes away from the laptop screen. After putting on her shoes and coat she headed outside, as she walked around the corner she bumped into a body “Sorry, I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay ma’am, are you okay?” she looked up, her eyes going wide at the man in front of her. “Miss?”

“You-you’re Steve, Captain America…”

“See Steve, told you every woman wants you” the woman to his left chuckled.

“No, no it’s not like that. You know Bucky, don’t you?”

“H-how do you know?”

“Because I know him, he’s the Winter Solider-ow get your hand off me” she tries to pull her arm away from the red head as she drags her down an empty alleyway.

“How do you know him?” Steve asks with his hands on his hips.

“I-I work for Hydr-wait it’s not like that” She panics when Natasha reaches for something from the back of her. “I don’t agree or like what they do, I’m trying to get Bucky out of there b-but I don’t know how”

“Why do you work for them if you don’t like what they do?” Steve questions.

“I’ve been forced to, just help me get him away from them please, he’s a good guy I swear – he’s being made to do all the bad things that Hydra wants him to do.”

“Steve we can’t trust her, it could be a tra-“

“It’s not I swear!”

“We should take her to Sam’s and she can help us”

Half an hour later she was sat on the couch nervously bouncing her leg up and down as Steve, Natasha and Sam all stared at her waiting for her to begin, but the truth was she didn’t know where to start from. She knew that she couldn’t admit that Pierce was her father. She knew that she would eventually but she just wanted to delay that until Bucky was safe. Just as she went to open her mouth there was a knock at the door, Natasha went to answer as Steve sat there and mouthed ‘its okay’.

Her whole body stiffened as a man in a black leather trench coat walked in. “This her?”

“Yeah”

The man nodded and sat down in the chair, looking her up and down. “I’m-“

“Nick Fury, yes I know who you are. There is no need to try and intimidate me, I came here willingly.”

“Willingly?  So... how do you know about Sergeant Barnes?”

“I work for Hydra and I ha-have to press the button for the chair”

“What chair?”

“It wipes his memories, I don’t know how exactly but-“

“That’s why he didn’t recognise me, isn’t it?” Steve cut her off.

“Yes but he did when he got back to the base.”

“Where is this base?” Fury asks.

“In Siberia, it’s hard to find if you don’t know where to look.”

“You’ll take us there, yes?”

“No! No I can’t! Also Bucky isn’t there; I don’t know where he is”

“Why can’t-hold on” Fury’s phone began ringing so he stepped outside. When he got back inside he looked annoyed. “Who are you? And don’t try and bullshit me”

“I-I told you…”

“No. Who are you really?”

“I’m… my name is Y/n Rumlow, maiden name Pierce.” All four of them pull a face at hearing the name, she couldn’t fault them.

“So who are you then?”

“Pierce’s daughter, Rumlow’s wife. But I swear I’m not like them, I swear”.

“Wait, Alexander Pierce?” Fury asked.

“He’s the head of Hydra.” She whispered her eyes lowering as she sees Fury’s jaw clench.

“Why are you willing to help?” Steve asked after a moment of silence.

“Because I don’t agree with what they-“

“You already said that” Natasha cut her off.

“And it’s the truth, I don’t, I don’t like what they do or what they’ve done.” Picking at the skin around her nails a soft sigh falls from her lips. “I will give you any information you need to bring Hydra down but you have to help me get Bear, I mean Bucky out.”

“He’s here, in New York.” Fury informed. “I ran into him, I managed to get away.”

“Guys… you need to see this.” Sam said bringing their attention from Fury to the tv screen where the news was reporting an attack, Y/n jumping up off the sofa when she sees Bucky.

Minutes later they were climbing into Sam’s car minus Fury as he needed to be elsewhere, Y/n clung on to the door handle as Sam sped towards the chaos. Innocent people that were going about their everyday lives were now screaming whilst running in shear panic trying to get away from the heavy gunfire between the police and men dressed in all black.

“Stay in the car.” Steve ordered her, silencing her attempt to argue by giving her a deadly glare, nodding weakly with her bottom lip jutted out which resembled a child being scolded by their parents.

As she sat inside the car her heart ached at seeing the chaos that her father was behind, she kept an eye out for Bucky because she knew that he was most likely there, doing the bidding for Hydra. Just as she sees him pushing his way through the agents she sees a child, no older than ten, alone with tears streaming down his face, without thinking about the consequences of defying Steve’s order she jumps out of the car and runs over to the child. “You’re okay, I’ve got you, you’re safe.”

“M-my da-daddy, I-I can’t-“

“It’s okay, it’s all going to be okay, we’ll find him I promise.” Picking the child up she covers his face to spare him from seeing more than he already has, she goes to back towards the car, only to stop as something gets thrown through the window and the whole thing blows up. “I-I think I’m going to be sick.” She mutters, gripping the boy in her arms a little tighter. “Okay. Okay. Let’s not go that way.”

Further down the street she sees a police officer waving civilians towards safety, running closer she was about to hand the child over to the officer when a man starts desperately calling out a name. “D-daddy!”

“Is that him?” He nods whilst wiping away the fresh tears that had fallen. “Sir! Sir I have him, he’s safe.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” Y/n shakes her head and offers the man a small smile. Turning around she ran back towards the destruction, ignoring the yells coming from the police officer, she guided people towards safety as well as trying to find Bucky, Steve, Sam and Natasha.

“Y/n?” The blonds shield had just knocked a Hydra agent to the ground when he sees her standing behind the man now unconscious on the floor. “I told you to stay in the car!”

“It got blown up.”

“What?”

“The car, yeah? It got blown up.” Steve rolls his eyes at her as she mimics an explosion.

“Right… stay by my side at all times.”

“Can I have a gun?”

“Do you know how to shoot?”

“No, not really.”

“Then no.” Y/n huffed as she scrunched up her face at his response, Steve wanted to laugh and he would have if he wasn’t trying to protect her from the rain of bullets.

“Y/n?” Brock whispered when he sees her wrapped up in one of Steve’s arms whilst the other held his shield blocking the onslaught of bullets coming from Hydras guns. “Y/n! Fuck!” He yelled, his eyes wide and frantic as he looked around to find a way to get to her. “Make sure you don’t hit her!” He ordered the men, smiling when he laid eyes on the Winter Solider who was currently fighting with the Black Widow, his jaw clenching when he sees Y/n’s hand in Steve’s as they ran towards a car.

Hand in hand Steve practically dragged Y/n leading her towards a car. “Stay here!”

“I need-“

“To stay put!”

“No I need to get to Bucky!”

Steve sighed as his shield kept being hit with bullets. “We will get him later, I promise.”

Neither of them noticing the Winter Soldier throwing Natasha across the bonnet of a destroyed car, nor knowing that Brock had told Bucky to get Y/n away from Captain America because the hero was hurting his Dove. Before she could argue with Steve about leaving Bucky behind the man she was worried about appeared seemingly out of nowhere, grabbing Steve by his neck and throwing him to the ground then grabbing her arm and pulling her close to him.

“Bucky! Bucky stop!” She begged. “Please! You know him! He’s your friend!”

The blond gets up with a strained cough, his eyes were wide at once again coming face to face with the man he had called his best friend for so many years, the same man he thought had died when he fell off the train. Peggy had tried to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault that Bucky had died but he didn’t believe it or want to hear her words, because to him it was his fault, he shouldn’t have let Bucky or his unit go with him on that mission, it was his fault for not being fast enough to get to him when he was dangling outside of the train, it was his fault for not being strong enough to lift his best friend, his only friend, his brother, to safety.

Steve could hear Y/n frantically begging Bucky but he couldn’t make out what her words were, he was just standing there frozen as he desperately searched Bucky’s eyes in hopes that there was some part of his best friend still in there somewhere. He didn’t even realise that Bucky was pointing a gun at him until the brunettes arm went down, his heart stuttering when he sees Bucky dragging Y/n away. “Y/n!”

“It-it’s okay I’ll be fine!”

“Goddamit!”

The pain in her arm increased with each step she took as Bucky continued to drag her away from the destroyed street, away from Steve, she had no idea where he was taking her and she guessed that he didn’t even know where he was taking them both as he carried on dragging her down the train tracks. “Stop Soldat!” Her skin crawled at hearing her own voice. “That’s an order.”

“No.”

“No? Rude.” She whispered. “Please Bucky stop.”

“No!” He yelled, finally facing her. “No! He hurt you.”

“Who?”

“Captain America.”

“No he didn’t? He was trying to protect me.”

“That’s not what Rumlow said, he said that Captain America was hurting you, that I needed to protect you.”

“He was lying!” She flinched as his metal hand punched a door handle, then wincing at the loud squeak of the hinges as he pushed the door open. Inside the room was dark and empty aside from a desk and a chair that had definitely seen better days. “What are we doing here?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“We need to go back to Steve, he can help us.”

“Who’s Steve?”

“Captain America, his name is Steve, you know him.”

“Right.”

“Do you remember him?”

“I think so.” He shrugged. “I need to get you to Rumlow.”

“No you don’t, Bucky you can’t take me back to him.”

“If I don’t I will be punished.”

“You’ll be punished even if you take me back.” She quickly responded, closing the gap between them and putting her hands in his. “I promised you that I would get you away from Hydra and I will, I am, if only you come with me to find Steve, he’ll help you I’m sure of it.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“He will, and if he doesn’t then we’ll go away, just me and you, and we’ll find somewhere safe, safe away from Hydra.”

Bucky stood there searching her eyes, finding nothing but honesty in them. “Just me and you?”

“Just me and you.” She repeated, a warm smile appears on her face as he nods slowly. “Now we just need to find a way to get to Steve.”

When it was dark enough outside the pair left the room and made their way on foot to the only place she could think of, Sam’s house. Y/n could feel the tension radiating off of Bucky the whole time they walked through the quiet streets, she could only give him a reassuring smile when they made eye contact. It was early hours in the morning when they showed up at Sam’s, giving the man to her left another reassuring smile, which looked more like a grimace, she looked up at the house that had all its lights off, she knocked on the door a few times.

Relief washed over her as the hallway light came on and Sam’s face came into view. “Y/n?”

“Is Steve here?” Hearing the door unlock she smiled softly at Sam when he opened the door, her eyes shifting to the blond standing behind him. “Can we come in?”

“We?” Steve frowned in confusion, his blue eyes widening as Bucky stepped into view. “Buck.”

“It’s okay.” She whispered to Bucky when she felt his hand grip the back of her jacket. “So, can we come in?”

Sam nodded whilst stepping aside to let the pair inside. “Yeah, yeah of course.”

Sam had gone to wake up Natasha as Y/n along with the two super soldiers stared at each other, the blond wanting to say something, anything, to get his friend to remember him whilst the brunette stood protectively in front of her, keeping an eye on the other man, silently daring him to try and hurt his Dove.

Natasha gave Y/n a nod and a slight squeeze on her hand, looking between the two super soliders and Sam. “What happens now?”

“We need to get him to Fury, he’ll know what to do.” Steve finally spoke. “Do you remember me?”

“Yes.” Bucky whispered, his metal hand forming into a fist then opening. “Your mum was called Sarah, and you use to put newspapers in your shoes.” He chuckled softly, Steve’s cheeks going red whilst Sam, Natasha and Y/n tried to hide their own amusement. “You was my best friend, my brother.”

Steve went to step forward but stopped when he saw Bucky flinch. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

“It’s fine.” He muttered, Steve shook his head and was ready to argue that it wasn’t fine but Bucky spoke again. “Will Fury help?”

“Hopefully.”

An hour after Natasha rang Fury, the man showed up, at first Bucky refused to speak to him but after Y/n promised that everything will be okay, he told everyone what he knew, what he remembered, everything that he was made to do. By the time he was finished it was nearly nine in the morning.

“We need to bring Hydra down.” Fury stated the obvious. “Are you willing to give up your father and husband?” He asked Y/n.

“Yes.” Bucky squeezed her hand softly. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“If we can prove that he was actually brainwashed and that he was forced to do the things he’s done then maybe we can get him pardoned, maybe alright.”

Fury wanted to wait until nightfall for them to all head to SHIELDS headquarters, the less around the easier it will be he said as he got himself comfortable on the sofa with a packet of biscuits that he found in Sam’s cupboard. When Y/n tried to stifle a yawn, Steve noticed and told her to go to bed, Bucky tensed as his jaw, getting up and following her as she made her way towards the bedroom. “I’ll stand outside.”

“Why?”

“To protect you.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing. “Don’t argue with me.”

“But you don’t need to, Bucky.”

“I know but I want too. Get some sleep.”

The second her head hit the pillow she was out like a light, completely unaware of the conversation happening just outside the bedroom door.

“Buck.” The brunette frowned at the blond. “Are you- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything.” Steve sighed, leaning against the wall opposite him. “I didn’t know, I thought you died.”

“It’s fine.”

“No it’s not. Nothing about this is fine and you know it.”

Bucky grinned. “Did you ever get the girl?”

“Which girl?”

“The Brit.”

“Peggy? No.” Steve smiled sadly. “No, never got her.”

“Sorry.”

“She got married, had two kids. She had an amazing life.” He shrugged, he wanted to pretend that it didn’t bother him because it did hurt finding out that the woman he was in love with had moved on but knowing that she found happiness brought him some comfort. “What about you and her?”

“Who, Dove?” Steve nodded. “She’s married to Rumlow.”

“Is she happy with him?”

A scoff with an eye roll from Bucky had Steve chuckling. “No she isn’t, she was forced to marry him.” Bucky remembers standing at the back of the small chapel and watching as tears streamed down Y/n’s pretty face. She had only perked up as the celebration went on around her when she laid eyes on him, a weak smile made its way onto her lips. He never had the heart to tell her that he was only there to stop her from running away. “Never seen a bride more miserable.”

“Does she love him?”

“No.” He might have been brainwashed and beaten into submission but he wasn’t blind, he could tell that there was no love on her end. “But Rumlow loves her.”

Steve nodded in understanding, smirking when an idea popped into his head. “When this is all over and you’re free you should ask her on a date.”

“Are you joking? She wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because she wouldn’t.” A soft sigh fell from his lips. “She deserves someone so much better than me.”

“Don’t-“

“Just leave it Steve.”

“Sorry.” Wiping his hands down his face, tiredness began to take over, he’d only been asleep for two hours when Y/n showed up. “Listen, I’m going to be by your side through all of this, I promise Buck.”

Before Bucky could respond Steve walked off leaving him to stand guard, even if they all knew it wasn’t necessary. A few hours later, Fury was telling everyone it was time to leave, Natasha stifling her laugh at Y/n’s hair all in a mess. Maria Hill had picked them up and drove them to the headquarters, everyone was silent as they got closer to the building.

Bucky grabbed ahold of Y/n’s hand as the car went into the underground garage.

The very next day all SHIELD agents had attacked the base in Siberia whilst Steve, Sam, Natasha and Fury went to Pierce’s home, arresting him and Rumlow.

For three weeks after that night Bucky and Y/n was separated for questioning, the latter being kept longer as she had more answers. She wasn’t shocked to hear from Fury that Pierce had tried to put the blame on her, telling the man with the eyepatch that she knew everything - when in truth, she really didn’t - but what did shock her was that Brock had defended her, and even denied that she had any part in the operation of Hydra, even going as far as telling Fury that she had never stepped foot inside the base, doing this not knowing that Y/n had confessed to her role in the organisation.

A week later the door to the room that Y/n had been confined to came open, Natasha smiled warmly at her and told her to follow. “Where am I going?”

“You’ll see.”

Nat smiled once more as she pushed the door open for Y/n, she frowned as she looked around the hanger, her eyes landing finally on Fury, Bucky, Steve and Sam. “Am I going to the Raft?”

“No. I’ve put in a good word for you, told them that you’ve willingly helped us and that thanks to you we’ve found more bases that we didn’t know existed.” Fury spoke. “I’ll see you soon.” He nodded at her as he walked past her.

The confusion was written all over her face as she asked. “What’s going on?”

Bucky walked up to her and gently grabbed her hands. “Have you ever heard of Wakanda?”

“I-I think so, why?”

“Well there’s a princess called Shuri there and she said she can deprogram me, get rid of the Winter Solider.”

Her eyes widened in surprise at hearing his words. “That’s- really? That’s amazing Bucky!”

“Yeah, yeah it is. I’m allowed to go there, to Wakanda, and Shuri is going to help me.”

“That’s… I’m glad Bucky, really.”

“Will you come with me?”

“Can-” looking at Steve who gives her an encouraging nod and smile. “Are you sure you want me there?” She asked Bucky.

“I don’t want to go without you, Dove.”

A huge smile on her lips had Bucky’s heart beating a little faster. “When do we leave?”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[lovelynim]

Fanfiction

Zenless Zone Zero - Asaba Harumasa (feat. Reader x Harumasa)

A/N: I don't even know where I start to explain the idea behind this one. Well, fanfics are canon in ZZZ and Harumasa is aware his fans write fics for him so... yeah.

Summary: Harumasa is reading a fanfic at work.

Word count: 1844 words

Harumasa sighed, slouching in his chair while the report pages rested empty on top of his desk. There was still about two hours before he could finally clock out and his body simply refused to waste its energy on filling those insufferable documents.

He already had to risk his life fighting ethereals, exploring hollows and doing medical check-ups, why did he also have to worry about explaining how any of those went? Why did it even matter in the first place? They just happened, weren’t the higher ups glad enough that he saved the day?

“Asaba-kun,” a cold, firm female voice came from behind him, making Harumasa jump in his seat and sit back up straight, dragging him from his thoughts back to reality. “Are you making progress with your reports? It would be troublesome to request another deadline extension after a two month delay.”

“D-deputy chief, you scared me!” Harumasa whined softly, his hand pressing flat against his chest while he looked up to Yanagi with puppy-like eyes. “Of course I’m making progress, but it’s just so har-”

“Good,” Yanagi nodded with a smile, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder, “I’m sure you can make it up for all the reports behind the schedule, Asaba-kun,” she added before walking away to pay some mind to whatever matter was going on with Soukaku and Miyabi.

‘So mean!’, Harumasa thought, how could the deputy chief of all people not even bother to offer him some help with that endless pile of work? He frowned, resting an elbow on top of his desk and his head on top of his hand. Well, there were still two hours, right? He could kill off some time and do that report later…

He reached for his cellphone, which was just by the side of the pile of work he was trying so hard to ignore, and mindlessly moved his thumb around the screen, drawing an arrow and unlocking the device.

Browsing through the interknot shouldn’t be that much of a big deal to most people, but things may get a little interesting when you have an army of restless fans that are chronically online, to say the least. It was still a little hard for him to believe what kind of thing his admirers would do and create: drawings, banners, edits of his fights’ footage with upbeat songs, and even fictional stories… Now that he thought about it, Harumasa was probably the one inside the Section 6 that paid the most attention to these contents: Yanagi usually brushed them off with a polite smile, not even daring to give them a second look; Miyabi didn’t understand the concept behind people’s admiration towards her; and Soukaku only cared about the gifts she could eat.

Still, while being popular could be a little troublesome at times (like when he was trying to sneak out with a certain proxy), having a legion of followers would come handy at boring moments like this. After all, Harumasa knew there would always be something to entertain himself with.

“Masa-masa enthusiasts explain why he is so cute; Check it out!”, “Ten things you didn’t know about Asaba Harumasa!”, “Harumasa caught secret dating?!”, “Harumasa spotted at the Lumina Square! See more pictures here”...

Harumasa rolled his eyes, scrolling past all the posts he deemed dumb. Why was the tag with his name filled with so many weird articles anyway? Where was the good stuff at? He let out a quiet groan, continuing to search for something that actually deserved his attention.

He continued to search, post after post, article after article, photo after photo. After a couple moments digging throughout the interknot, a post from the “Archive of Our Eridu” caught his attention. Finally some good fan made content, Harumasa through, smirking slightly as he clicked the link and opened it.

“‘Harumasa/Reader’, huh..?” He mumbled, shifting in his chair as his eyes moved past the tags, skipping the summary and the author’s notes to finally get to the actual story. 

‘You watch your captive slowly regain his consciousness, his muffled groans barely making past the improvised gag and his limbs’ moving restrained by the tightly tied ropes’- Harumasa arched one eyebrow at the content and its form, remembering one of the fanfic’s tags. 

Right, this should be someone else’s point-of-view, which means… the said ‘captive’ was him? Wait, how was he supposed to read it if he was doing both roles? 

Harumasa frowned, shaking his head. Probably the author never expected him, of all the users in the interknot, to stumble upon this. Still, he should probably just think of ‘reader’ as a different person while reading it, that should make things easier for him to understand and get through the text. 

So, back to it…

It was a straight forward setting. The reader in question was playing the role of some sort of criminal organization’s leader while Harumasa played… well, his own role. For some reason, the author skipped the previous events that led to the current scene - Harumasa assumed that would be too much context - and the first paragraphs described some sort of… interrogation? At least, that’s what it sounded like.

“Heh, am I going to fall in love with the bad guys here..?” Harumasa giggled with the thought, surprisingly amused as the reader threatened and tried to intimidate him. “They are making me sound so stubborn here…”

Harumasa continued to read, flinching when the reader snatched the tape off his lips, imagining how much it would sting, and even unawarely mimicking his reactions described in the story: parted lips, half closed eyes, erratic breathing…

‘We already took care of your colleagues. No one is coming to save you, Asaba, you better speak’, he shifted in his seat at that line. ‘Hah, even better. Do your worst, you’ll get nothing from me’, was he actually this sassy? And what’s up with the attitude? Harumasa shook his head, rolling his eyes at the cliché threats from the reader. Maybe he did set the bar too high for some amateur stor-

‘Pain? Who said anything about hurting you, my dear Asaba? I have my own methods of making you talk’, oh? Was that the beginning of the steamy parts? Harumasa looked around the office, making sure Yanagi was still in her seat before continuing his reading.

Being caught reading this kind of stuff would be even worse than getting caught slacking off. Gladly, Soukaku seemed to be doing an amazing job at keeping the deputy chief busy. 

Alright, time to resume it.

‘What?’. ‘Ah, Asaba… I’ve always been fond of you, I could never bring myself to hurt that pretty face of yours, but… I still need to make you talk, right?’ He could feel his cheeks warming up a little, imagining the scene a bit beyond what was written. 

Ah, this better not be something weird awakening inside him, Harumasa thought.

There was still no action. The story only described how the reader walked around him, wandering in the room and circling the chair he was tied to while explaining to Harumasa the roots of their affection for him. Still, Harumasa couldn’t help but to feel his heart beating a little faster with anticipation - both as the audience and as a form of sympathy towards his character.

The next part had Harumasa leaning more and more on the edge of his seat, going an inch forward with each word read. The description mentioned something like the reader sitting at Harumasa’s lap, popping his shirt’s buttons open one after the other and pushing his shirt away, exposing his bare chest.

‘Get your hands… off me, you f-freak!’. “Why? Are you nervous? Feeling shy? Maybe there is something stuck at the back of your throat? Let me get it out for you’.

Harumasa felt a shiver run up his spine, regretting ever underestimating one of his fan’s work. The description had him wrapped around its finger and even he himself couldn’t figure out what was so good about it - neither what made it sound so awfully hot.

‘You began to drag your fingers around his toned midriff, circling his navel before teasing his sides. You watched Harumasa tense up, sucking in stomach, trying to avoid your touch. You chuckle, fondly, tickling the edge of his waist.’

So this was the torture they had in mind? Tickling? Harumasa looked up, lowering his phone for a moment and contemplating the idea. Unexpected, yes. Unwelcomed? Not sure. He couldn’t really tell if he was ticklish - was there ever a time for him to figure it out?

Of course, the lack of this confirmation didn’t stop this fan, it seemed. He should probably leave a like in their work for the effort - finding a piece of information that Harumasa himself wasn’t aware of. Heh.

But, back to the fanfiction… Why was it making his heart flutter? Or, even better, why was he struck by the imaginary feeling of it?

He could feel a ghost-like sensation roaming his body. Unconsciously hitching his breath, brushing a hand over whatever spot was mentioned to get rid of the phantom feeling and even catching himself smiling at nothing but his own thoughts.

‘Harumasa laugh helplessly under your hands. You dig your finds under his arms, squirming your way past his defenses despite his efforts into clasping his elbows to his torso. He throws his head back and you can’t help but to give his neck a little tease’.

“...w-what kind of freak would be into this stuff?” He groaned quietly, pouting while his cheeks felt warmer than before. Harumasa even lifted his hand - after hesitating a little, for some reason - to rub his neck, trying to shift his attention from the nonexistent sensation.

Stomach, side, neck, ears, thighs, knees, waist, feet, back… even his hands! How many words did that fanfic even have?!

Harumasa crossed his legs before leaning back into the chair, his breathing quickened for some reason. “A-ahm, does anyone mind if I turn on the AC?” Harumasa whined sheepishly, hooking a finger around his collar to loosen it.

“No, go ah- Asaba-kun, are you feeling alright?” Yanagi asked, furrowing her brows slightly with concern. “You actually look sick, do you need me to-”

“I-it’s fine, deputy chief,” Harumasa sighed, wiping a drop of sweat from the side of his face and fanning it with his hand. “Just a little… overwhelmed, I’ll be fine,” he pulled out a forced smile, making Yanagi nod despite the doubt.

He should stop reading these things at work…

Brr, brr.

Wise lifted his head from his pillow, turning around and giving his attention to his phone instead of trying to sleep. Reaching out to it, taking him less than a couple swipes to check the reason behind the noise. 

[A guest left ludos on Harumasa’s Interrogation], read the e-mail. Wise shrugged, placing his phone back on the table. Well, at least something was doing numbers, unlike this commission he was stuck at… but he should be able to do it after a good nap!

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 8

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

AN.: Should I post this on AO3? Maybe? Thoughts? Or do you guys like this format??

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7

• ··········· • ············ •

“Drink this.” Viktor placed a steaming white mug filled with a pinkish, translucent liquid. You looked up at him, curious. “Don't worry. It’s just tea.”

Bringing the mug to your lips, the warm liquid filled you with comfort and calmness. It smelled and tasted sweet, but you couldn't place what flavor it was. Your brain was half turned to mush from the meltdown at the memorial.

Viktor had gently dragged you as best as he could to the Academy, not that you were fighting him. There was fuzziness that still lingered in your mind, and although his hand on your wrist felt like it had thorns, your willingness to fight had disappeared, your head tired and foggy.

Once inside the Academy and near the lab door, he silently opened it and led you inside, apologizing for the state of disarray. He had grabbed something from the back of a chair and mentioned a wheeled bench for you to sit in. You did, and he placed a blanket on your shoulders. Heavy, thick wool that smelled of mint and cinnamon.

You laid your head on the table, cheek touching the surface of it, your eyes looking out the window, letting the cold surface relieve you from the headache that was about to burst.

You started drawing runes on the table. You found, at some point during one of your worst nights, that the fluidic movement of the runes calmed you. Sort of like making lists in your head. Unless you intended for it to go free, it only shined for some seconds and dissolved into the air, creating blue embers that floated upwards and disappeared.

Viktor's eyes, you also noticed, behind the blue shimmer, never left the hand or the runes.

Looking around at your surroundings, you found that the lab was indeed a mess. Not that you thought that Viktor as Jayce could ever be tidy. No matter the universe, these two brainiacs have this whole lab in an 'organized chaos' situation.

“Your desk is a mess.” You noted, staring at a pile of blueprints, tools, and papers.

“I wasn’t expecting guests.” He told you quietly without malice.

You turned your head to lay your chin on your arm, looking at him as he sat in front of you, sipping his own cup of tea. A tired chuckle came out of your mouth at the picture of Jayce with a mustache drawing in ink.

“If you were, would you have cleaned up?” You blinked up at him.

“Maybe…” you blinked at him again, raising one eyebrow. He leaned into the table and smiled. “No. Actually, would you mind if I worked? I wasn’t expecting to come back to the lab tonight, but since I’m here... eh... might as well.”

“Pretend I’m not even here.” You told him, once more turning your head to lean your cheek into your arm and look out the window.

“If you want more tea, there’s more in the kettle.” He pointed to a small table next to where you sat that had a kettle and some half-eaten sandwich on top. 

You stared at the window again, waiting for the attack on the memorial to happen. However, by your mental calculations, it should have been done and over with.

Several minutes passed, the only sounds heard being Viktor’s writing and the handling of his current invention. When it was clear nothing was going to happen, you took a deep breath and looked at Viktor. 

(Evelyn Trouble - Made of Rain)

I haven't seen the moon in days... Been so busy changing my ways.

He had taken off his jacket and was hunched over his desk tinkering with something, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a small bandage wrapped around one of his forearms. The dark color of his shirt contrasted beautifully with his pale skin, and you noticed his vest hung open. His hair was a mess, sticking out in all places, especially the little hairs near his neck, the ones he liked to curl when he was thinking. You couldn’t help but give his back a sad smile.

I haven’t cried in forty days. Though inside I am made of rain.

Had this been another time, another place, you’d be leaning into his shoulder blades, annoying him, careful not to hurt him, only heavy enough for him to huff and puff at you being a nuisance. You realize now how much you missed this man.

Oh baby, baby, that’s ok. It has always been this way.

“I can feel you staring.” Viktor remarked, not looking up.

“You have no proof of such accusation.” You moved so you could lean your cheek into your hand.

He touched a magnifying glass the size of your hand with the tip of a screwdriver. It was pointing straight at you. You narrowed your eyes and scoffed, but the corners of your mouth tilted upwards. 

Slowly you rolled the bench towards his desk. The squeaking of the heels announced your movement, making him stop his work to look at you over his shoulder. It took you a comically long amount of time to reach him, making a curious Viktor swivel in his stool to look at what you were doing. Once you arrived, he shook his head and rolled his eyes, moving himself to the side so you could sit next to him.

“I am only allowing you to sit here because this is for your mother.” He announced going back to his calculations.

“Had no idea.” You placed an elbow on the table and leaned into your hand.

“Well, now you know.”

You looked at his desk, noticing the differences between your Viktor and this carbon copy of him. Less coffee mug stains, a lot more little notes, some with actual notes, others with his telltale hatching. His pencil cup was filled with colored pencils and colored chalk. The Viktor you knew was an avid fan of white chalk and charcoal pencils. Under piles of paper, you spotted a newspaper crossword puzzle half made, and on the corner of the desk, a dusty old framed photo of him and Jayce. You knew that photo from Jayce’s desk, not his. 

A purple pencil had rolled over as Viktor tried to reach for it and was about to fall from the table. Instinctively, you used magic to make it roll back to the inventor’s hand with a soft breeze. His neck snapped to look at you.

“What?” You blinked at the quickness of his movement.

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat and went back to his work.

A couple of minutes passed, and he seemed to have forgotten about your illegal use of magic inside the lab he shared with a councilor. You kept watching him work, his deft hands working with small wires and cogs. He was ambidextrous in this dimension. Your Viktor would be jealous.

“Thank you, Viktor.” You began, and he looked at you again, his pencil stopping midway through a note. “And I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” He turned fully to you, his knees bumping into yours. Neither of you moved away.

“You’re going to have to put up with a... healthcare provider...”

“I don’t even think Jayce saw us leave. Besides, you weren’t exactly... able... to leave for yourself. I would not be comfortable if I had just let you walk out in your state.”

“I’m sorry about that too. I haven’t had one of those in a while. I thought they were over..." You explained, soothing yourself by gently swaying the stool from side to side.

“Is it because of the…” He pointed to the hand. You shook your head. “Mmm, maybe you just need rest.”

“Pot meets kettle.” You blurted out and heard him chuckle.

“Actually, yes.” 

He went back to the tinkering, and you laid your head on your arms again, watching him work. There had always been something relaxing in watching either Viktor or Jayce work, especially if they were deep into what they were doing. 

There was this laser focus on the work; their movements became sharp and precise, and it was like they had honed in their bodies to only move when extremely necessary. Their expression changed as they worked, eyebrows furrowing, eyes widening, and a little smirk would grow on their lips when they figured out something or turn into a frown when they did something wrong. If you looked at them for a long time, it was like magic; their hands moved, and something appeared.

Once again, your mind started drawing runes on the table; this time you let them go. A pencil was being whooshed away from you, and when it rolled back, you did it again. 

“Does it hurt?” Viktor asked, not looking up from his paper.

“What?”

He opened his palm, the pencil he had stuck on his middle finger and thumb, and shook it. He meant your glowing member.

“Oh. No, not really.” You placed your glowing hand on the table, palm down, fingers spread. “It tingles, but… It’s not uncomfortable. It's soothing even.”

“Mmm… do you know why it glows?” He asked, his eyes landing on your hand, his paper forgotten. You chuckled.

This is what he wants: to study something new. You would happily oblige him; he had been incredibly accommodating. He had brought you to his second home and even let you sit next to him as he worked. 

To you, this—all of this—the sights, the sounds, the mess in the lab, the somewhat tired man sitting next to you—this was your normal.

To him you were a stranger; your presence was uncommon in his space, someone who was naturally yielding something he had only managed to create artificially.

“I do.” You turned your hand over, and the white line of the rune there glowed a little lighter. “The rune makes me able to…write…without physical means.”

“Fascinating.” He was about to touch a finger to your palm but stopped abruptly. “Will it hurt me?”

“I don’t know. Haven't slapped anybody with it yet.” You smirked; he rolled his eyes. 

Viktor grabbed a pencil and poked your hand. It felt normal. It was underwhelming even to you.

“So?” He asked, observing the tip of the pencil. 

“You poked me with a pencil, and that's exactly how it felt.”

“Mmm…” He ripped a little note sheet and placed it gently on your palm.

After a few seconds of it just lying there, with him looking at it intensely, you brought your head down next to his.

“Are you expecting the paper to burst into flames?” You whispered, and he looked at you and back to the paper and then back at you.

“Oh…this is…” He groaned and replaced the paper with his hand.

Your eyes widened, half scared of what would happen to him and half scared of what would happen to you. His palm was cold as usual, heavy and bony. You swallowed, taking deep breaths, waiting for his hand to turn to white and gold. 

“Surprisingly warm but seemingly harmless.” He said, taking his hand away, and you sighed in relief. He realized what he had done and looked at you. 

“I…apologize. I should have asked if I could.”

“It’s alright.” You cleared your throat.

“Would you mind if I asked you more questions about this? It will stay between us, but I think I can use it for the hex-”

“No,” you interrupted him. “You won’t use this on that.” 

“Do you know what hextech is…it’s a—”

“I know what hextech is, and I know how easy the hex-core is to corrupt.”

“Corruptible? No, no…It’s stable; we have been trying new things with it… and they run—"

“No, Viktor.”

“But... it... can be helpful to it.” He was starting to get frustrated, his forehead starting to crinkle as he narrowed his eyes.

“It might help, but what would be the costs? You’d add an unknown variant to a stable environment…” you felt proud being able to use his verbiage against his own argument. “The result could vary, and it could destroy everything. I’ll let you study the magic, but not for hextech. Not for use in hextech.”

“But…”

“I will not go anywhere near the hex-cores.” 

Viktor opened his mouth to argue, but after a while, he shut it and nodded. You knew, if he was anything like your Viktor, which it appeared so, there were some doubts about the usage of hex-core in more unstable scenarios. 

From where you were, it seemed the hex-core hadn’t been corrupted yet, but his leg had still been enhanced, which meant that the possibility was there. And you knew he knew that. Nothing was ever just pure. There is always a way to corrupt the incorruptible if anyone tries hard enough.

“I accept your terms.” 

“Good. Give me the notebook.” You mentioned the new notebook, and he slid it to you. You turned it over to the last page, writing something on it.

“Read it and sign it.” You gave him back the notebook and the pen you were holding.

“What?” He looked at what was written on it, his golden eyes moving through the lines. “I, Viktor, co-creator of Hextech, agree to investigate the matter previously discussed without using it to further my investigation of the hex-core.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow and looked at you, his face blank, unimpressed. You, on the other hand, smiled triumphantly.

“This does not look very legally binding.” He tilted his head to the side, still looking at the book.

“It may not look official, but it could be used against you after you sign it as an informal commercial agreement.” You added.

“No. To be an informal commercial agreement, I will have to receive something in return.”

“Alright. Write down what you want then.”

Without second thoughts, he grabbed the pen and scribbled something on the page, passing it over to you.

“In exchange, the subject of the study will be available whenever and answer all the questions asked truthfully.” You mentioned the pen, and he handed it to you.

You added ‘possible’ after ‘whenever and showed it to him.

“I’m not about to be woken up after you figure something out in the wee hours of the morning.” You explained.

“Eh...fair...”

He did a little VK on the side of the page, and you did your own signature.

“I guess we have a deal.” Viktor smirked, excitement contained behind his amber eyes.

• ············ •

“So…nothing happened?” Your mother asked, still in her sleeping attire, a purple silk robe wrapped around herself.

“Nope.” You drank some tea from the delicate yellow cup.

It was still early in the morning, but you had places to be at. When you asked Viktor when they should start, he mentioned the earliest convenience, pointing to the ‘contract.’ So, you had woken up before the sun came up and were already ready to leave, only stopping by the kitchen for breakfast. Everything was quiet until your sleepy mother walked in asking all kinds of questions.

“So, what now?” She was leaning on the kitchen counter, arms crossed, chewing on some vanilla cookies Voltaire had dropped.

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “I was counting on the events being the same and going from there.”

“I guess it’s good you're a musician…” You looked at her. “You’ll be playing it by ear.”

“Oh…by the gods…Mother…” You snorted and got up from the table as she snickered at the bad joke. 

“What? That was funny.”

You kissed her forehead and walked away from her, laughing on your way to the Academy.

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw

[keyotos]

"you know, if being cute was a crime, you'd be guilty as charged!"

you have been at this for hours (it has only been a few minutes) now. wriothesley, who has been idly sipping his tea with a straight face, has not yet wavered at your terrible pick-up lines.

"that one was bad," he sips. you roll your eyes.

you clear your throat, "if fine was a felony, you'd be on death row," you give wriothesley an exaggerated wink.

he gives you a disconcerted look.

you pout, "okay, c'mon! that one was good!"

wriothesley puts his teacup on the table and moves his chair closer to yours, "i don't think death row should be associated with romance," he shakes his head, "that may have been the worse one today."

"i think that was, 'are you a crime? because i'll do you anyday!'" you laugh and grab wriothesley's teacup, taking a drink out of it so ordinarily.

wriothesley basks in this. tonight is a quiet night: the inmates aren't awake, sigewinne has clocked out for the day, and you are here. it's strange how you are one of the loudest people wriothesley knows of, yet you make the world sound so quiet when you're around. whatever your magic is, wriothesley isn't opposed to it.

everything about this scene reads domesticity, even though the two of you have been together for a couple of months. spending late nights together, sleeping in the same bed, drinking out of the same teacup? if someone had told wriothesley a few months ago that he would be doing these things (nevertheless with you), he would have called them mad. but here he is, sitting in his office doing nothing but drinking tea, while hearing you recite horrible pick-up lines.

"wouldn't it be the perfect crime if i stole your heart and you stole mine?" you push the teacup towards you boyfriend.

wriothesley winces, "maybe that was the worse one today."

"what?! i thought that one wasn't bad."

your boyfriend looks to the side, "it was really cheesy."

"clearly, you missed the point of pick-up lines," you lay your head down on the desk, "i'd like to see you come up with one."

wriothesley chuckles. you relish in the fact that you are one of the only people that have ever heard him laugh. it's an unexpected sound, and it always comes out more lighter than most people would think. but it's endearing, just like him; you always think that a light chortle from him would paint your dark skies to a clear blue.

"i'm saving myself from the embarrassment," wriothesley sips out of the teacup, on the same side you drank of, you might add.

"boring," you draw out the syllables of the word.

"what? did you run out of lines?" wriothesley teased you, taking another drink out of the teacup to hide his smile. he watched as your face morphed into a light grimace.

"i did not, actually," you raise your head off the desk, "in fact, i'm thinking of one right now."

"oh no..." wriothesley shivers. you shoot him a petulant look. he backs down.

when you think, you have this habit of sticking your tongue out of your lips, just ever-so slightly. your eyebrows crease just a little bit, not enough to be furrowed, but enough to not be at resting position. your eyes don't narrow, they widen. wriothesley thinks that if someone caught you like this on a kamara, your photos would go down in history.

finally, after what felt like years (it was one minute), you look back up at him. this time, however, your eyes are laced with uncertainty rather than flirtatiousness.

"if being in love is illegal, would you be my partner in crime?"

love. you guys haven't talked about it yet.

was that why your eyes were so full of nervousness? did you think he didn't love you back? if that was the case, then it'd be preposterous, for how can anyone look at you and not fall in love? although, wriothesley supposes that it's a good thing, because that means you're his to have.

one side of his brain is in doubt. it's just a joke, it says, they're not being truthful, it's just a pick-up line. but his heart says otherwise. if they were joking, then why do their eyes look like that? why are they fidgeting with their fingers? why are they gently tapping their foot on the ground?

love has never been a consideration for wriothesley. throughout his life, it has been abandonment and independence. there's only been room for one, not two. but you: you reconstructed his entire mind. so now, when he thinks about drinking tea, he doesn't drink alone anymore. when he's staying late to do paperwork, he doesn't have to be alone while doing so. when there was one, there is now two.

oh.

oh.

oh shit. your confession of love came from a pick-up line. and it actually worked on him, because he loves you back. he loves you back so much. wriothesley loves you back with his heart, his mind, his body, and possibly his soul. and he realized the extent of his love through a pick-up line. from you out of all people.

though, even though he's in love with you, he's not letting you get the satisfaction of your line working.

"i don't know. according to the my close friend, the duke of meropide, he says it's illegal to participate in criminal activities." wriothesley's tone is soft. his eyes are full of endearment. your eyebrows stop crinkling, and your eyes revert back to normal. you know. you know.

you give into an easy smile, "don't you think your friend, the duke, is a little too compliant to the law?"

"sorry, he's not changing his ways. but," wriothesley gets out of his chair and strides towards you. his hand meet your jawline, and his thumb traces the corner of your lip that's turned downwards due to your pout. with his thumb, he guides it upward, making it so you were smiling. he laughs slightly⎯twice tonight, which is something he did not expect to do⎯and moves his thumb to lightly caress your bottom lip.

he uses his hand to tilt your head up towards him. you know what's coming, and you excitedly lean in closer. wriothesley tilts his head down to meet your lips, carefully tracing every angle of your jaw as he does so. you meet him halfway, closing the gap between you two almost immediately. wriothesley can feel you happily grin into the kiss. you grab his shirt collar and pull him closer into you, and he obliges with no hesitation.

you are the first one to pull away, and it takes all of wriothesley's willpower to stop himself from pulling you back in.

"but?" you ask, chest heaving up and down. wriothesley, the bastard, is still breathing normally. "does the duke of meropide have any contentions?"

wriothesley shakes his head, "i think he could make some exceptions," he whispers, grinning while doing so.

he doesn't miss the beaming glow of your smile as leans in once more. and then, he knows that he'll be your partner in crime for a long time.