#I just don’t sleep very well outside my own bed

[shima-draws]

Hi Shima!! How are you?

Hi anon!! I’m tired but good c: I recently got back from a camping trip which is why I’ve been kinda MIA, surprisingly enough we did have service up in the mountains so that was nice!

I got some nice scenery pictures!

Still can’t believe I got that shot of the rainbow, it drizzled a little right after we set up camp and then the sun came out and it was just 👌

Also I had no idea my phone was capable of taking actually decent pictures of the stars, but yeah they were SO clear and so gorgeous, we could see a bit of the Milky Way 🥺

Got a really clear shot of the Big Dipper too!

And on the last day (Tuesday) we went to a wolf reserve and actually got to go into their enclosure and pet them, which was the best thing ever. I got legitimate wolf kisses!!!

(Hiding my face bc I’m shy but YEAH SHE LICKED MY FACE 😭)

We got back Tuesday afternoon but I was just so wiped that I went straight to bed. I took today off of work too bc I’m still recovering but I’ll be going back tomorrow :’)

Thanks for checking in on me <3

[dadsbongos]

sweetnerd

@toxycodone / @maniacpixiedreamboy been waiting to post this one for ya (based on this post of his)

summary - daisuke -desperate for some release after months of passionless jerking- begs to eat you out one night.

1 k words / 18+! mdni

Recently, the lock on medical had been snapped off. Thankfully, you knew the culprit to be Swansea after a belligerent search for painkillers. And unfortunately, you were responsible for watching over the numerous drugs each night.

Well, you claim it’s a misfortune but really you placed the burden upon yourself. Anya insisted that she would sit with you -- seemed borderline inconsolable at the idea of you being there alone. Then she told you where she hid the ship’s gun.

You weren’t sure why a nurse and her assistant had access to the gun when even Captain Curly didn’t, but you also weren’t getting paid enough to ask. Besides, you’ve never had a reason to use it so why concern yourself?

As if sensing all such serenity, the Tulpar bangs outside. Then Daisuke is clambering inside, hands on the doorframe and cheeks flush. His knees are pressed together, his whole body bent like some cheap hanger. Hair tousled, strands upright in odd angles -almost electric in nature. If not for the utter strangling silence behind him and his heavy breathing, you might’ve thought the rest of the ship was on fire.

“Dai… suke..?” you sit up groggily, scrubbing exhaustion from your eye, “The hell’s wrong with you? Do you know what time it is?”

“Do you?” he shoots, abandoning the argument a second later in favor of quietly humming, “I wanted to ask you…”

“Yeah?”

“Uhm, ugh… It was easier in my head… earlier…” he mumbles, hand drifting down toward his pelvis. He scrunches the crotch of his sleep pants, a lofty sigh escaping at the squeeze, “Can you- I’m just, you get it? You’ve gotta,” he clenches his eyes, seemingly shaking away the humiliation that very instant and looking at you with the biggest, wettest plead you’ve ever seen, “Can you please sit on my face while I jerk off please? Please?”

The pinched look on your face does not scream disgust, which only relieves him slightly -- he hadn’t really considered what he’d do if you reported his question to Captain Curly. Head too hot with want to forethink something as trivial as a sexual harassment lawsuit.

“Why…?” you lean back, hesitant though not appalled.

“I need to get off, like crazy,” he stumbles forward, slow enough for you to roughly shove him back if you want to, “All I got is an old mag, and it’s junk!” you can hear the delirium thrumming through him the longer you keep him waiting, “You’re so hot, I just wanna eat you out… You don’t even have to do anything, just ride my face! I’ll be good, I promise. We can stop whenever, too, I don’t need to finish,” he swallows harshly before whispering something you’re not totally sure you were meant to hear, “Just the memory could make me cum anyway.”

“Uhm…”

“I’ll give you some of my sweetener stash!”

“I don’t want that, Daisuke…”

“Then forget you heard it!” his dark eyes scramble over your body, “What else can I give you?”

Your own gaze flips over his shoulder, out the still open medical door and down the hall. Empty. Quiet. You snag him by the loose collar of his spare Pony Express shirt, sunshine fabric pillowing between your finger, wrangling him into the bay.

“Just be quiet,” you hiss, “The lock’s busted.”

Daisuke’s rosy lips drawl upward, loose and loopy and disbelieving, “You’re serious?”

“Aren’t you?”

He nods hastily, jumping back onto one of the care beds before flattening across it -- pleading silently up at you with wet puppy eyes while scrubbing sweaty palms down his thighs. Crinkling the soft material until it’s ricketing down his knees; watching hawklike as you slowly strip. Then you crawl atop of him, he clutches you by the hips and blows out a wildly uneven breath.

Barely able to find the strength to blink -lest he be cursed to cut the sight of your bare skin from his eyes- Daisuke only just scrounges the wherewithal to assist you into kneeling over his scorched face.

Exhaling between your thighs, Daisuke winds one hand around your thigh -blunt nails digging into the fat- while wrapping his cock with the other.

Craning his neck, he approaches eating you out the exact way you assumed he would: eagerly and without forethought. Absent of technique, but so full of hunger; his tongue parting and swirling wherever he pleases in that moment. As rhythmless as he is, he’s overtly sloppy -- wet clicks livening the silent room.

Billows of loose breath echoing. You sigh as he whimpers into you. Your weight jostling over his face as he bucks wildly into his tight fist -the resulting gasp only makes him thrust up harder.

“Ah, Daisuke,” pure instinct encourages you to reach down and wrangle his hair, keeping him still for you to grind down and fuck his face. Swirling your hips for that wet friction and Daisuke puts up no fight: only moaning louder into you. Vibrations making you shudder and weep again, “Ah- Daisuke!”

He croons beneath the praise, thumbing the soaking head of his cock while tongue-fucking you open. Desperately stretching his neck to nuzzle deeper into you with his own mewls leakier than a broken faucet. The messy sound of his clenched fist rapidly working his cock grows louder -- you glance over your shoulder to find him shiny with precum. Hand a mere blur over his thick erection. Ruby head peeking at you with every thrust until pearly ropes are painting his knuckles -- some more ambitious shots flying onto your back.

You’d somewhat expected him to slide back like some content, melty goop.

Daisuke surprises you when he smears cum over you whole before using it as lube to slide in, nearing knuckle deep. He moans in time with you as if he can feel it -or maybe just because feeling you clench around him is that good.

“God,” he whimpers beneath you, fingers curling inside you, “I could die down here…”

It might’ve been alarming, if he hadn’t said it so dreamily.

Maybe you’ll let him go down on you more often, if he’s always going to be so eager.

[luveline]

hi!!! i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's injured during a case and reader show up at the hospital because she's his emergency contact but the team is really confused wondering who's this stranger fussing over spencer. hope you like it, love you!

thank you for requesting honey!! love you<3 fem!reader

“Close your eyes,” you command, voice all blown up and grand, already smiling. “Close your eyes, Spencer.” 

“No.” He squints groggily. “What are you doing?” 

“Close your eyes.” 

“No, Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks. 

You shake your spray bottle at him. He sighs a long-suffering sigh and finally admits defeat, his tired eyes shuttering closed all too easily. You rest your knee on the side of his bed and hear the metal squeaking at your added weight, your hand gentle as you cover his forehead. “You have greasy hair,” you say sympathetically. “This is gonna feel much nicer.” 

You blast him with dry shampoo, his brown hair turning white with powder. You drop the can in his lap and set about rubbing the powder into his hair until the grease is soaked up, and his hair feels less miserably lank. 

“When are they gonna let you shower again?” you ask quietly. 

You’re still touching his hair. More for him than you, you hope he feels comforted, but mostly you just wanna affirm to yourself that he’s all in one bruised piece. Your heart still aches as much as it did when you got the phone call in the first place —Spencer Reid’s next of kin? 

You suppose that’s you. 

“I don’t know.” 

You take his hair back into his current parting. “Well, let’s hope it’s soon. How are you liking the sponge baths? Are they awful?” 

“Humiliating.” 

Just outside of Spencer’s hospital room, Hotch and JJ stand together with a bag of essentials. They’d drawn to a sudden stop when they realised Spencer had company. “Who is that?” she asks. 

Hotch, used to knowing everything, frowns very deeply. He doesn’t know who you are, but from the way you’re touching Spencer’s hair and face, he should. 

JJ sounds a little put out. “She doesn’t work here.” 

“No, I don’t think so,” Hotch says. His frown lightens as you laugh and scratch Spencer’s hair back behind his ears. 

“Is it unkind of me to think he didn’t have any friends?” JJ asks. 

Hotch knows Spencer has friends. He’s summoned Spencer from chess games and fan clubs, picking him up occasionally on the way to the office on cafe sidewalks as he waved goodbye to a glasses-wearing bibliophile, often in coats too big for them or with hair in need of a trim. Spencer attracts the unconventional because he, as anybody in this line of work tends to be, is inordinary. So JJ probably is being unkind, but Hotch knows what she means. 

You look completely regular. You settle on one thigh on his bed while the other keeps you up and put your hand on his chest, chatting breezy words they can’t hear through the glass.

Spencer curls into you slowly. 

“You’ll be home soon,” you say, rubbing his shoulder, “don’t worry.” 

Hotch’s eyebrows rise of their own accord. He and JJ excuse themselves for coffee before they’re spotted, and when they return, you’re gone. “Spence, who was that girl?” JJ asks. Hotch notes the slightest line of jealousy tugging under her curiosity. 

He sounds as though he could use some more pain medication, and a good night's sleep, but he’s proud as he says, “That’s my roommate. I told you about her.” 

“Ah, your roommate,” Hotch says. 

“What’s that mean?” Spencer asks. 

“Nothing, Spencer,” Hotch says, using the young man’s first name in a rare show of affection. “That’s just an irregular word for it. I haven’t heard it in a while.” 

JJ laughs. Spencer hides his face with both hands, a smudge of lip balm on his hand shining under the stark hospital fluorescents. “I’m too tired,” he complains. 

Hotch hadn’t seen you kiss him, but he can imagine how it might have happened, how you’d leaned in for a kiss on the cheek goodbye and Spencer overwhelmed himself thinking about it. Or maybe it’s just an innocuous smudge. Maybe it’s nothing at all. 

“We live together,” Spencer mumbles. “I couldn’t afford to live by myself at first, it’s D.C.” 

“And now?” Hotch asks. He knows Spencer is on good enough money to afford an apartment by himself these days, a big one. He has no dependents. 

“Didn’t seem fair… She’s nice. She’s, like, my best friend.” 

“Don’t let Morgan hear you say that,” JJ laughs. 

Hotch isn’t sure she gets it, but he does. “Well, you can ask her to come back. We have work to do.” 

Spencer pretends he’s hesitant to pick up the phone. Your reply is an immediate beep. Hotch knows a good friend when he sees one. 

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {1}

Summary: On the outside it appeared you had the perfect life but Charles didn't know the secrets that had been kept from him. In order for him to succeed deals were made with your family and no price was too much to pay. Warnings: nsfw, swearing, fighting, mentions of character death, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, horrible parents, Arthur Leclerc being the best friend ever WC: 2.5k

One || Two || Three

“What have you got yourself into now?”

There was no simple answer to that question and it was the very reason you had specifically not called the man waiting for an answer in the corridor. You dragged your eyes away from the chipped grey walls of the cell and stopped reading the tagging that littered the bricks - you didn’t really care that P & H were 2getha 4eva - and sat up from the concrete bed you had attempted to sleep on. 

Stretching your tired muscles, you ignored his question and asked one of your own. “What are you doing here, Charles?”

“Arthur called.” Charles grabbed the bars that separated you, his knuckles turning white as he scanned the other vagrants you had been locked in with. “Did you have to get him involved?”

“What makes you think it was my idea?” It was your idea, but it was rude of him to assume so. 

“My brother wouldn’t know how to find an underground fight club, let alone join one.”

“Maybe you don’t know your brother as well as you think.”

“Maybe, but I know you.” He looked at your cheeks that were still shiny from the Vaseline that helped the blows glance off, then he looked at your busted knuckles that not even tape could stop from splitting. “Why?”

You shrugged, but it tweaked your shoulder that had taken quite the punch and you winced at the spike of pain. “For a bit of fun, let off some steam.”

“Yeah, you look like you are really enjoying yourself,” he muttered sarcastically before walking away.

“Wait, Charles, where are you going?”

“Home, it’s late and Arthur is waiting in the car.”

“You’re just going to leave me here?”

“You didn’t call me,” he stated coldly. “Bail yourself out this time.”

Your clenched fist hit the metal bar and he briefly paused as the ringing sound followed him down the hall. “Dammit, Charles. Please?”

He continued walking away and you dropped back onto the hard slab of concrete wondering why you bothered. Charles never cared for you and the friendship you had with his younger brother, in fact merely breathing around him seemed to be an offence. It had been that way ever since your family sponsored his career, it was like he resented you for your family’s money. 

“Y/L/N,” a burly bailiff called out, interrupting your ranting inner monologue. “You’ve been posted.” 

A frown pinched your brows together as the door opened and you saw Charles standing in the shadows behind the officer. “Now would be the time for a thank you,” he muttered. 

You were tempted to throw a ‘fuck off’ his way but bit your tongue and accepted the thick hoodie he had draped over his arm. While the sex workers you had shared a cell with wore just as little clothing, yours was for an entirely different reason. The sports bra and bike shorts were perfect for fighting in but left you cold in the early hours of the morning, so you quickly pulled the hoodie over your body. “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”

“I don’t want your money,” he sighed, rubbing his temple and leaving you with the impression that you were the headache he had.

“That’s not what you said to my father 10 years ago.”

“Is it too late to lock her back up?”

The bailiff looked awkwardly between the two of you and if you were in Monaco the officer would have probably marched you back to the cell, but Charles was in Nice now, he was in your city. 

You quickly signed the release form for your belongings and slipped the family signet ring back onto your finger before turning your phone on. A flood of messages from your father, his assistant and his lawyer, appeared in the flurry of vibrations that made Charles scoff and shake his head. “Worried about his little princess, huh?”

It was your turn to scoff. If only he knew how utterly wrong he was, but you weren’t one to air the dirty laundry of your family - even if it would shut the pretentious twat up for one minute. “Same time next week, boys,” you said with a nod to the officers behind the Perspex wall. 

“You’re seriously messed up,” Charles commented as he followed your quick descent down the front steps and aimed for the dark blue Porsche. 

“Keep sweet talking, you flirt,” you shot back sarcastically. “I thought you had a girlfriend.” 

Arthur had opened his door the moment he spotted you and he knew from the pained look on his brother’s face, and the smile on yours, that the interaction had gone as well as expected. He couldn’t understand why two people he loved dearly had to fight like cats and dogs every time they were in the same room. He had tried to get you to talk to Charles, to tell him the truth about your situation, but it had been hard enough talking to Arthur about it and you trusted him with your life. You weren’t going to go through that again for someone that would be more likely to spit in your face. 

“How’s your nose?” Arthur asked as he gently cupped your face and inspected it.

“Relax, I already reset it.” You took comfort in the warmth of his palms but the fuzzy feeling that came with knowing someone in the world cared about your wellbeing was gone in an instant.

“Daddy can always buy you a new one.”

“Charles!”

“Forget about it, Tur,” you murmured as you stepped back and started to make your way home on foot. “Text me when you get home safe.”

“If you care about him you will leave him alone,” Charles called out as he opened the driver's door. “You’re just going to drag him down with you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Arthur growled at his brother before he started to follow you down the street. “Wait, please.”

“You should listen to your brother,” you said over your shoulder. “I’m a sinking ship.”

Arthur’s footsteps quickened as he jogged to your side and pulled you to a stop. “You’re not a sinking ship, but if you are then I will be your lifeboat.”

“That’s stupid analogy,” you scoffed as he pulled you into his arms. “I’m sorry I got you arrested.”

“I could have run when they raided but what kind of best friend would that make me?”

“One with a clean record,” you pointed out, feeling his chest bounce with a silent laugh.

“It’s overrated. I’m thinking about getting a tattoo now, one to remember my incarceration by. Maybe a tear, just here,” he said as he touched his cheek. “Think it would make me look cool.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Oh yeah, the ladies would love that.”

“Please don’t give my brother any more bad ideas,” Charles muttered as he rolled by slowly in his car with the window down. “Get in, both of you.”

Arthur opened the door and pulled you down with him, tugging you into place on his lap before you could escape. He wasn’t going to let you walk home at 3am, no matter how safe Nice was, but it was annoying that his brother only bought a two seater sports car when he knew that the two of you had been arrested. 

You guided Charles away from the waterfront mansions and into the industrial area that was abandoned at the late hour. Arthur had been to your place plenty of times but it was a first for Charles to see the concrete building with a chipped tile roof at the end of the rundown street.

“What are we doing here?” Charles asked as he parked in front of a rusted metal door.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, kissing Arthur’s cheek before opening the door. 

“What is this place?” Charles asked again as he followed you out, frowning at the key to the door you found under a shattered pot plant.

“I can’t exactly go home like this, can I? Genius.”

Arthur’s door shut as he got out to referee the second round of verbal sparring for the evening.�� 

“I’m surprised they even let you home after the crap you put them through.”

“Yeah, well, I'm still useful to them so they can’t get rid of me yet. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“It must be so hard living your perfect little life,” Charles drawled sarcastically and Arthur inhaled sharply at the insult.

“You think my life is perfect?” You laughed bitterly and Arthur looked down at his feet. “Do you know why I fight in that shitty underground cage? The only freedom I have is when I get in that ring. It is the only choice I get to make for myself. For five minutes, I am in control of my own life, Charles, I get to fight for myself.”

“In control? You have always done and gotten everything you wanted,” he argued. “You wanted a pony, you got a fucking pony.”

Your vision narrowed as anger exploded in your chest. “There was a price, you fucking idiot! I am paying that price now. You don’t know what it’s like to have your entire life planned out for you, to find out those gifts came with terms and conditions, so do me a favour and shut the fuck up for once in your life please.”

Charles took a step closer but Arthur placed himself between you, his palms pushing his brother back as your breath quickened to uncontrollable pants. “You don’t understand, just let it go.”

“Damn right I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you listen to her bullshit, Tur. Jules couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her, and I can’t either.”

The whomping of blood rushing around your head echoed in your ears as time slowed and Arthur’s arm pulled back. You watched him close his fist like you had taught him, keeping his thumb on the outside to avoid breaking it. You watched the veins on his hand grow thicker as he threw the punch at his own brother and the shock barely registered before Charles fell down on his ass.

“Jules couldn’t be in the same room with her because he knew the truth and he felt guilty!” Arthur screamed down at his brother. “You were too young to understand then, but we aren’t kids anymore.”

Charles broke free of his state of shock and scrambled to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “What truth? Huh? Is it worth ruining our brotherhood?”

“Jules was engaged.”

“Bullshit.” Charles shook his head violently and you sank to the ground, leaning back against the cold bricks for the second time that night. “He would have told me.”

“Ask Enzo.” Arthur knew Charles would believe him. Lorenzo was Jules’ best friend, it was why Charles met Jules in the first place. Jules already had ties to your family and he used them to broker the deal that funded Charles’ career. 

“Okay, so what if he was engaged?” Charles snapped as his agitation grew. He was suddenly questioning everything he knew about his godfather and it showed on his shaking hands.

“Because he was engaged to me,” you whispered, a shadow falling across your face as Arthur crouched down beside you and wiped away the tears you hadn’t even felt fall. You couldn’t tell if they were tears of anger or sadness, the two seemed to blur when it came to Jules. He was always there, even in your earliest memories. He was like an older brother to you, he even taught you to ride your bike without trainer wheels. He was always there, until he wasn’t. 

Charles was right, he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you once the deal was made. You couldn’t blame him for that. 

“No, no fucking way,” Charles laughed, raking a hand through his hair. “Arthur, are you listening to this shit?”

“I’ve seen the contract, Cha.”

“You’ve always been gullible but this is actually stupid. She was 16. Jules wouldn’t have married a girl. He was 25 for fucks sake.”

“We didn’t have a choice,” you admitted quietly. “It was the price for the deal he made, and you are right, Jules was too noble for that. It took a lot of convincing on his part to wait until I turned 21. My father resented that fact, I think he was hoping to sell me off to someone sooner.”

Charles stumbled back to the hood of his car, watching as Arthur took a seat beside you and draped his arm protectively over your shoulders. The brothers stared at each other but you stared at the gravel between your legs while the truth lingered in the air. 

You could feel the pieces connecting in Charles’ head as if they were being screamed aloud and you flinched at the moment they all came together. Arthur’s arm tightened, Charles' throat bobbed and nausea roiled in your stomach.

“It was me,” Charles choked. “Wasn’t it?”

You didn’t bother looking up as you nodded. “My father never cared about your career. He wanted a union with the Bianchi family and he finally got the opportunity when Jules asked to sponsor you.”

“Why the hell would he agree to that?”

“Because he believed in you, obviously, and I like to think that maybe he thought he could get out of the agreement before I turned 21.” You shrugged because you would never know the complete truth now. It made you sick to think that maybe he did find a way out of it, in the worst way possible.

“Your father…”

“Is a real asshole? Yeah, I know.”

“I was going to say sick bastard.” 

You chuckled in agreement and tipped your head back. “Perfect life, am I right?”

Charles had the decency to winch at the reminder. “You’re an adult now, why don’t you leave?”

“I wish it were that easy. All my bank accounts are under his control. They didn’t let me go to college. I don’t know anyone that isn’t indebted or loyal to him,” you sighed. “I got this place with my fight winnings. It’s not much but it’s mine, at least until he arranges another marriage for me, then I suppose the poor bastard gets it too.”

“Marry me.”

You barked a laugh and looked at Arthur, his lips still parted like they were shocked the words had passed by. “Now you are being stupid. I love you, Tur, and that is precisely why I wouldn’t wish this shit on you.”

“Then marry me,” Charles offered. “You hate me already, and I owe Jules everything. You can come to Monaco and study, or get a job, or whatever you want to do.”

“No, thank you,” you said as you pulled yourself to your feet and opened the door. “Drive safe.”

“I’m serious,” Charles growled as caught the door before it closed. “I am offering you a lifeline, why won’t you take it?”

“My father taught me many important life lessons but the first one was if it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Good night, Charles.”

Part Two

[girlygirl14534]

Body Heat - Bucky x Reader

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cock Warming, Snowed In, Only One Bed

Length: 3.7k

Summary: A blizzard knocks out the power in the safehouse where you and Bucky are sharing a bed. Can Bucky keep you warm through the cold night?

Author’s Note: It has been so cold where I live lately and there’s nobody better than Bucky to warm me up. I’m entering this work into @targaryenvampireslayer Blind Date Writing Challenge. I don’t participate in a lot of fandom events, so this was really fun! I used the Only One Bed trope and the Dialogue Prompts “Take your clothes off. Right now,” and “Are you holding back? Don’t.” Happy reading and stay warm! Divider via @firefly-graphics

Read this work on AO3

“You didn’t even want to get egg rolls,” Bucky whined as you grabbed one off of his plate.

You grinned as you bit into it. He smiled back at you, but his shoulders shifted ever so slightly, tipping you off to his next move. His chopsticks swooped onto your plate in retaliation, but you were ready for him, blocking his attempt on your orange chicken.

He glared at you and you relented. He popped the chicken into his mouth with a satisfied smirk. You rolled your eyes at him and took a sip of your beer. It was a local brew. A little hoppy but not too bitter, with a surprisingly crisp taste. You loved trying beers at every new little town you ended up at. Nothing beat a cold beer after a long mission, even if it was 20 degrees and dropping outside.

It was warm and cozy inside the little cabin. This safe house was cuter than most. It had a little wood stove and lace tablecloth—definitely grandmother-approved. The place was small, but you’d stayed at smaller ones. Although most had at least a few twin size cots. The bed here looked comfortable, but there was only one.

“It’s picking up out there,” Bucky nodded at the window. Outside you could see the snow swirling in the wind.

“The Winter Soldier scared of a little snow?” you teased.

“Oh, shut up. You wouldn’t last ten seconds out there. Remember Helsinki?”

“That is so unfair! I fell into a frozen pond!”

“I told you not to walk on that patch of ice!”

“You were being a know-it-all.”

“That’s because I actually know it all.”

You threw your half-eaten egg roll at him.

“You didn’t even eat it?!”

You shrugged and he glared at you as he finished it. After dinner, you got ready for bed. It had been a long day. When Bucky came out of the shower, you were already under the paisley-printed covers.

He grinned at you. “That’s my favorite bonnet,” he said, nodding at the silky cap on your head.

“You have favorite bonnets of mine?”

He shrugged. “I’ve seen you in enough of them. I love the one with rhinestones on the headband. You look like a queen. The Kirby one is really cute, too.”

“Nice try, Bucky.” You threw a pillow at him. “You’re still sleeping on the floor.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

You knew he was going to jump on the bed a second before he did it, but you didn’t stop him. He looked so satisfied with himself.

“Time for bed,” you said as you started stacking pillows on the bed between you.

“Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off of me?” he teased.

“Don’t think I forgot how you hogged the couch in Bangladesh.”

“I maintain that you rolled off of the couch by yourself.”

“Well then consider it protection from me rolling you off the bed.”

He laughed as you finished the wall of pillows, marking your territory. You were just grateful that the bed was big enough to have your own space and that there were enough blankets that you wouldn’t have to share. You loved Bucky, but in your friendship you were more likely to trade insults than share the covers. Was there something more behind the words you traded? Maybe. Sometimes it felt obvious that he felt the same and other times you were certain that he just saw you as a friend.

If you were just friends, you were friends that lived and worked in very close quarters. You’d had a lot of hands-on moments working the mission with him today. If you had a little more privacy, you’d probably be touching yourself right now thinking about the weight of him on top of you as he tackled you to the ground to protect you, his hair tickling your face as he whispered a new tactical plan into your ear. Instead you were stuck here, close but not close enough. You sighed in frustration.

“Need a bedtime story?” Bucky asked.

“Once upon a time, a former assassin wouldn’t shut up while his teammate tried to sleep.”

“Teammate? That’s all I am to you?” he asked. The hurt and offense in his voice almost sounded real.

“What do you want to be described as?” you asked.

“Just get some sleep, princess.”

You chuckled and rolled over, soon falling asleep. You dreamt of him, of course. Of his hands on you. One warm, one cold. And then it was just his left hand. It was so cold. You let him keep touching you, of course. You didn’t care if you got frostbite. You just wanted him to keep touching you.

You were pissed when you woke up before you could climax. But you quickly realized it wasn’t just cold in your dream. Your teeth were chattering in real life.

“Fuck. It’s freezing,” you said.

“Power’s out,” Bucky said. “Must be the storm.”

“Can we make a fire?”

“I checked. The stove is electric.”

“Are you sure? That thing looks older than you.”

Bucky laughed. “I think I saw a few candles in the cupboard.” He got up and rummaged around in the kitchen. He lit them and placed them around the room.

“Bring one here. Maybe I can warm my hands.”

He laughed as he flopped back onto his side of the bed. “I know it’s cold in here. With the blizzard, there’s no way we’ll make it down the mountain. In the morning, we can—”

“I’m not gonna make it to morning! Feel my fingers!”

Bucky outstretched his right hand toward you, smiling in amusement at what he assumed was exaggeration. When you touched him, his expression changed to one of concern. Maybe things were worse than you thought. Maybe it really was frostbite. Bucky started taking down the pillow barrier.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“You’re right,” he said as he threw pillows over his shoulder and onto the floor.

“Oooh, say that again.”

He laughed. “It’s too cold in here. You need body heat.”

You rolled your eyes but he kept moving pillows. “You’re serious?”

He nodded as he got rid of the last pillow. He awkwardly opened his arms. You scooted closer to him. This wasn’t how you wanted his arms around you, but you were too cold to deny him. He wrapped his big, strong arms around you. You relaxed into his embrace, and not just because of the warmth. He held you tight to him and you would’ve stayed just like forever, but you were still shivering. It felt like the chill had settled into your bones. The extra warmth from Bucky was only making it more obvious just how cold it was in the tiny cabin.

“We need skin to skin,” Bucky said.

You laughed but he didn’t.

“Take your clothes off. Right now,” he said.

Maybe the frigid air was impacting your decision-making, because instead of denying him, you complied. Tried to, anyway. Your fingers were so numb from the cold that you fumbled with the hem of your shirt. He gently nudged your fingers aside and helped you out of your shirt. You’d imagined the first time he took your clothes off a little differently, but you couldn’t care about that now. Once your shirt was off, he took his off too.

He hugged you again then. Your bare skin felt electrified where it touched his. He held your hands to his chest to warm them. With his hardened pecs beneath your fingers, it took all of your willpower not to squeeze.

“Is that better?” he asked.

You nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You stayed like that for a few minutes, afraid to move. Afraid that at some point he’d decide that you were warm enough. You weren’t warm enough. In any sense. You needed him closer for survival, but it became increasingly difficult to tell if you needed him because you were cold or because you were horny.

“You’re not warm enough,” he said finally. You didn’t argue.

When he pulled away, the sudden loss of warmth made your body tense up. He immediately placed his arms around you again.

“I won’t let go of you anymore, okay?”

You hated how pathetic your voice sounded when you responded, “Okay.”

His arm reached between your bodies to pull his pants down. You told yourself that you weren’t going to look, but your eyes had a mind of their own. You watched his fingers grip his waistband and tug down his boxers and his pants. Suddenly he was naked. Even in the dim lighting, you could see how big he was. His eyes went straight to yours to check in, but he found no objection. You looked away to be polite, but felt too awkward to look into his eyes. You turned around so that your back was to his chest. You were grateful that he couldn’t see your face when he started to pull your pants down. If he was hesitant about this plan, his movements didn’t show it. He was smooth and deliberate, quickly ridding you of your pajamas and underwear. When you were both undressed, he pulled you close. When you felt his cock against your ass, you shivered, and it wasn’t because of the freezing temperatures.

“That’s it,” he said. “Turn over.”

He didn’t wait for you to move, effortlessly pulling you onto your back and laying on top of you. Bucky was naked. You were naked. And he was on top of you. You were short of breath just thinking about it.

“Don’t tell me I’m taking your breath away,” he teased.

“You’re heavy,” you retorted. “I think you may need to start laying off the eggrolls.”

As you laughed together, you became hyper aware of how close your bodies were, of just how much physical contact you had. The laughing stopped abruptly.

“Why didn’t you take off my bra?” you whispered. “Afraid that once you see these you’ll be ruined for all other boobs?”

“Yes,” he nodded as he reached under you, large hands rubbing your back and unhooking the clasp. He slowly slid your straps down your arms. He looked into your eyes as he pulled your bra from between your bodies and threw it onto the floor.

Here you were, caged in his warmth, looking deep into his eyes like in one of your fantasies. And yet your instinct was to make a stupid joke, find some way to make this feel less serious. But you couldn’t think straight with his dick resting on your stomach and his warm breath on your face.

“Better?” he asked.

“Eh. Still a little chilly,” you joked breathlessly.

“I can get you warmer,” he said seriously.

You laughed. “I don’t think we could physically be any closer than we are right now.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Well, technically we could be a little closer.”

“Barnes, if I go outside in the morning and find out that you cut the powerlines…”

“I can’t have you dying of hypothermia on my watch. I don’t have to move or anything. Just to keep you warm.”

You wanted to roll your eyes and hit him on the arm, but his sincerity caught you off guard.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I’m not a fan of the cold either. I’ve spent too much of my life frozen already. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought…”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “And don’t worry, when I tell Nat this story, I won’t even mention the shrinkage.”

He laughed with you and then shook his head at you.

“What am I gonna do with you?” he asked.

“Stick your dick in me, apparently.”

He swallowed nervously. “Are you…? Are you ready?” he asked.

You nodded, hoping he wouldn’t question how wet you were already. You certainly weren’t going to bring up the fact that you had felt his length slowly hardening against you for the last few minutes.

“I, uh, just gotta…” He reached down to pump himself a few times, looking anywhere but you. You wanted to change that.

“You can look at me, Bucky.”

His eyes found yours. You’d never seen this expression on his face before. He was never this easy to read. Even though he’d beaten the Winter Soldier programming, he usually always kept a part of himself closed off. Those defenses were gone now. In their place was yearning. A desire so deep it was overwhelming. The way he looked at you was the same way you felt about him.

You arched your back, drawing attention to your chest. “You can also look here, if it helps.”

He looked at your breasts for the first time. His mouth fell open in awe. You hoped you really were ruining him for other women. You hoped he would never look at anyone else like this for as long as he lived. His eyes went from your chest back to your face as he shifted between your legs. You bit your lip when you felt the head of his cock prod your entrance. It would take everything in your power not to moan. This was probably a very bad idea. But still you let your legs fall open wider to give him easier access.

When he first pushed in, you drew a shaky breath. He stopped moving, eyes anxiously searching yours. He was terrified you’d ask him to stop. Quite the contrary.

“That all you got?” you asked.

He smirked at you before resuming his progress. Despite your earlier joke, you felt your walls stretch around him as he pushed further into you. You felt every single inch, but it was torture not being able to wrap your legs around his hips or claw at his back like you wanted to.

When he was fully seated, he stilled. You took a few deep breaths. It was dizzying, being this close to him, this full of him. It was his turn to tell you, “You can look at me, ya know.”

You looked at him in the flickering candlelight. His hair obscured your view of his face. You reached up and tucked it behind his ear. He nuzzled his face against your hand. Your heart skipped a beat. You could feel his warm cock throbbing inside of you. He was looking at you so romantically that you forgot where you were for a moment. Your body did, too. Your pussy clenched around him. You didn’t get a chance to wonder if he’d felt it. You heard him groan. Right before you felt him thrust.

His eyes darted to you, panicked. You’d seen him panic once before, as he pulled you out of the ice in Finland. That day he’d warmed you up by the fire with plenty of hot drinks and some light teasing. You preferred the current method of warming you up. Which is why you let him hear you. You moaned for him. If you’d been less desperate for him to fuck you, you would’ve been embarassed by how needy you sounded. It was nothing compared to the strangled cry Bucky let out with his second thrust. You expected him to keep moving, but he stopped again. He leaned in, eyes urgent.

“The first time I saw you,” he panted, “I knew you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever—”

Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t have him saying things he didn’t mean. “You don’t have to flatter me, Buck—”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true. And you are so beautiful.”

You placed your hands behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss. You weren’t sure what it was going to be like, your first kiss with Bucky. Especially since that first kiss was occurring after he was already inside of you. When your lips touched, you both sighed with relief. His lips were soft. You weren’t expecting that. His tongue probed your lips gently, and you gladly gave it access. He kissed you slowly, like he was savoring every second. He cupped your breast with his right hand, softly stroking it. His touches were almost reverent. It would’ve been romantic if you weren’t so needy. There’d be time for slow and steady. You hoped so, anyway. Right now you needed fire. You needed his touch to chase away the cold.

“Are you holding back on me, Barnes? Don’t.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He bent his head and attached his lips to your neck. He pulled the delicate flesh between his teeth as the hand on your breast eagerly squeezed. His metal hand tightened its grip on your hip. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d have a bruise in the shape of his handprint tomorrow. Proof that this had actually happened. Proof it wasn’t just the best dream of your life.

Maybe you wanted to mark him, too. Maybe that’s why you tangled your fingers in his hair while you raked the nails of the other hand down his back. He grunted as he drove into you with renewed force, the headboard rattling against the wall.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so wet. So tight. So perfect. Even better than I—” he stopped himself.

“Better than you imagined?” you suggested.

He nodded.

“You imagine me?” you asked, breathless.

“Every day,” he confessed.

You moved your hips in time with his next stroke, taking him deeper than ever. You both cursed. With each thrust, you knew things would never be the same. With each thrust, you got more and more desperate for him to ruin you. You writhed desperately under him and he only gripped you tighter, forcing you to stay still and accept your pleasure like a good girl. He angled his hips so that he was massaging your g-spot with every thrust. The head of his cock dragged against your center of pleasure over and over again in a relentless pursuit for your climax. You wanted to beg him to fuck you harder and faster but you didn’t want this to end yet. Not until he was as ruined as you were.

You took your hands away from him and brought them to your chest. You gripped your breasts tightly and moaned. He was mesmerized. You pinched your nipples and rolled your hips, putting on a show for him. You needed to know that he would never forget this. That he would never forget you. You tugged on your nipples and cried his name.

“That’s my job,” he said. You smirked at him.

You put your fingers in his open mouth and brought them to your clit and started rubbing slow circles. You watched his eyes darken. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth again, closing his eyes in pleasure as he licked your fingers clean. Instead of putting your hand back where he found it, he brought his metal fingers to your clit instead, taking over your ministrations there. The cold, hard metal rhythmically massaged the sensitive bundle of nerves until his name was the only word in your vocabulary.

You wouldn’t last much longer. You’d see to it that neither would he. You attached your lips to his neck and sucked a bruise into the skin. His fingers on your clit went from slow circles to frantic figure 8s. Your back arched in pleasure as you felt your walls tighten around Bucky’s cock. His hips stuttered as he flooded you with warmth. Your legs shook when you felt him fill you. You whimpered his name. He whispered yours. Before you could even catch your breath, it happened.

You both knew the second the power turned back on. The hum of the fridge, the rattle of the old radiator, the red “Off” light on the coffee pot. It was like a bomb going off in the bubble you’d built. You looked at each other, startled, as if you were just realizing the extent of what you had done. For a split second, you considered pulling away from him and getting dressed, pretending none of this had ever happened. But you didn’t want that, not while his cum was still warm inside you and aftershocks of your orgasm were still rocking your core. You two spoke at the same time.

“It’ll probably take a while before you’re warm eno—”

“The power could go off again at any mo—”

“Sorry—”

“What were you saying—”

You both chuckled self-consciously.

“You love being inside me, don’t you, Barnes?” you teased with no taunting in your voice. You felt his dick twitch. You rolled your hips. “Is that a yes?”

He bit his lip and looked at you with more than lust. It was devotion.

“Yes,” he said finally.

“Good. Because you’re the only one that can keep me warm.”

“What about me?” he asked.

You looked at him, perplexed.

“I get cold, too.”

“What can I warm up for you, Bucky?”

“My ears are kinda cold,” he said.

Oh. Not exactly what you were thinking about warming up, but ok. You reached out to stroke the side of his face. He smiled and blushed, but nuzzled into your hand.

“Your thighs should be pretty warm now…”

Oh. Your thighs could keep his ears warm. You would happily straddle his face in the name of reciprocity. It was the least you could do, right?

…

The next morning, you woke up wrapped in Bucky’s arms. The heat hadn’t gone out again during the night, but you still felt like you needed Bucky’s warmth.

“I didn’t tamper with the generator,” Bucky said. “But I should have. I should’ve warmed you up like that when you fell into the lake.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Would you have let me?”

You nodded.

“You would have?!”

“I bought the Kirby bonnet for you,” you confessed.

“What?”

“I know how much you like playing Mario Kart with Sam. I thought you’d like it. I thought maybe it’d make you like me.”

He scoffed. “Are you kidding? By that point, I was already in lo—I mean, I, uh. I really do love Mario Kart, you’re right.”

“Nice save.”

“Let me take you out on a proper date.”

“One condition.”

“Anything.”

“Has to be somewhere warm.”

You shared a laugh.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he smirked.

Want to read more of my writing? Check out my ongoing Stucky x Reader series.

[imtryingbuck]

Timeless Love.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky might have met the love of his life in the middle of a war, he just wished he was able to live a life with her.

Word count: 6,598

Warnings: angst. kidnapping. fluff. Hydra. forced breeding. forced miscarriage.

A/N: enjoyed writing this!! Thank you for the request. Also thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for helping me when I needed it!🤍

Part 2

Masterlist

“Y/n L/n. 107th.”

She nodded smiling at her friend who had also been given the same unit. All the nurses - professional and volunteers alike were waiting for their names to be called to hear what unit they would be stationed with.

Then she was given the news that she was going to be the matron. And at twenty four years old that was a massive accomplishment, herself and her parents were beyond proud.

“Hey doc” she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at hearing the familiar voice that she began hearing everyday. “I’m injured doll, need your help to patch me back up”

Looking up for the clipboard she carried around she saw the Sergeant who had captured all the attention from all the nurses. Though he never paid any mind to them, just her.

James Buchanan Barnes.

“Firstly I’m not a doctor, just a nurse and secondly this is your seventh time coming here this week”

“Firstly you should be a doctor, better than the one we’ve got and secondly I keep getting hurt”

“Bucky… it’s only Wednesday.”

“You love me. Aren’t you going to ask me what my very serious injury is?”

“I don’t love you. Okay, what seems to be the problem Sergeant?”

“Y-you don’t love me? I’m going to cry myself to sleep tonight thanks to you!”

“What’s your injury Sergeant?”

“My heart” he places his hand on his chest and looks up at her sympathetically. “My heart hurts doll”

“James… you do realise that your heart is on the left side not the right…”

Moving his hand to the left side “Oh… are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure” chuckling at his facial expression, he winks causing her to laugh.

“The truth is that I just wanted to see you, I like you even though you’re being mean to me” he pouts and bats his eyelashes as he kicked his legs back and forth.

“How am I being mean to you?” She asks whilst counting stock, trying her hardest to ignore the intense gaze of his ocean blue eyes on her back.

“Because you won’t let me take you dancing”

“You should go with one of the other nurses James”

“I don’t want any of the other nurses, just you”

“You-“

“Y/n! Y/n quick we need you!” Mary’s panic scream interrupted her. Jumping up and rushing out of the tent with Bucky right behind her, a group of men carrying a stretcher with a man lying on it. His right leg gone as well as his left arm.

“Get him in here” Bucky opens the flaps of the tent, his eyes trained on the young soldier as they passed him. “Help me transfer him on to the bed, carefully.”

Bucky watched on as Y/n took control, ordering the nurses around and trying to get the soldiers to move away so she could work. When one of the men wouldn’t move Bucky stepped in.

It wasn’t long before Y/n made everyone get out except for the nurses.

“Go” Bucky’s head snapped from the medical tent to Dum Dum sitting next to him, giving the man a questioning look, Dum Dum laughed. “The doc”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about” he mumbled before downing the rest of his drink.

“You’ve been turning down women all night and I’m honestly surprised that you haven’t burnt a hole into the tent with how intense you’ve been looking at it. Oh and let’s not forget that you’ve been obsessed from the second you laid eyes on her”

“I-no I haven’t.”

“You have, and don’t bother trying to argue with me. Go and talk to her”

“And say what?”

“That’s on you” Bucky contemplated on whether or not to take his friend’s advice, it didn’t take too long before he was getting up and heading over to the medical tent. “Shes in her own tent” he heard from behind him so he changed course.

Standing outside the small tent he fixed his hair before pushing the flap aside, he found her sitting hunched over the small table one hand in her hair and the other scribbling away as she filled in paperwork.

“I can feel your eyes on me” her whispered voice snapped him out of his head.

“Are you alright doll?”

“I’m fine don’t worry, go and enjoy your night”

Moving closer to her he saw the tears falling freely down her cheeks. “Hey, hey why are you crying doll?”

“He… he didn’t make it. I tried everything bu-but it wasn’t enough, he was only seventeen Bucky.”

“Oh doll. You did everything you could-“

“But it wasn’t enough! And within the week his parents are going to know I failed, I failed to save their son”

Bucky pulled her into his arms, holding her close to his chest ignoring the feeling of her tears wetting his shirt. “It’s not your fault” he whispered over and over again as she fell apart in his arms.

“I failed”

“No you didn’t! Nobody would have been able to have saved him Y/n and you know that.”

“He was only seventeen Bucky. A child!”

“I know sweetheart, I know.”

As the laughing and music continued outside Bucky kept Y/n close to his chest, rocking them both from side to side slowly. Sleep began to overtake them, being the gentleman that he was he turned his back on her waiting for her to change into her nightwear.

“Goodnight doll”

“Stay… please”

“Of course” he was slightly shocked by seeing her shifting over in the small cot then patting the space she had created.

Climbing in next to her, wrapping her up and pulling her into his chest. Pressing his lips to her forehead “goodnight my love”

It became an unspoken routine between the two of them that Bucky would sleep in her bed, they ignored the teasing from all those around them - as if the nurses weren’t warming the soldiers beds themselves. There was nothing sexual about what they were doing, it was just two lost souls finding themselves seeking shelter within one another.

That however changed one night when Bucky went into their now shared tent finding her once again hunched over the table. “Hi doll”

“Hi Sergeant”

“Me and the guys move out tomorrow”

“I heard. How are you feeling?” She asked looking up from the papers in front of her.

“Nervous I won’t lie, but I’m going to miss you”

“I’m going to miss you too but you shouldn’t be gone long, right?”

“Two weeks, three at the most” he shrugged. “Doll, come and dance with me”

“There’s no music…”

“So? Come on” he held his hand out for her to take, his heart fluttering with the look she gave him as she puts her hand in his. “You are so pretty” he whispers as they swayed together.

“‘M not.”

“Yes you are. From the second I laid eyes on you I thought you were the most prettiest dame I had ever laid eyes on.”

“You’re lying!” She chuckled.

“I am not!”

“If you say so”

Bucky gently raises her head up by her chin, “I have never lied to you.”

“Bucky… kiss me please” she asked softly. Their lips met slowly at first before growing heatedly and passionately.

The next morning with only a thick blanket covering their naked bodies they basked in the silence of the camp, Bucky running his fingers through her hair and Y/n drawing invisible circles on his chest.

“When this war comes to an end me and you are going to get married” Bucky declared as he broke the silence.

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Nope” he chuckled. “Why, don’t you want to marry me?”

“And put up with you for the rest of my life?”

“Yeah, why what’s wrong with that?”

“You’re annoying”.

“And?” He drawls with a cheeky grin on his face.

“I’ll probably smoother you in your sleep?”

“And? Doll you aren’t giving me a good reason for why we shouldn’t get married”

“You honestly want to marry me?”

“More than anything, and I promise I’ll be an amazing husband and we’ll have so much fun together an-“

“Yes”

“-d we’ll make so many memories-“

“Yes”

“-and we’ll grow old toge-wait… yes?”

“Yes Bucky, I’ll marry you when the war is ov-“ her words get cut off from him pressing his lips to hers.

“I can’t wait to annoy you for the rest of our lives together”

Later that morning, before Dum Dum led his unit out of the camp heading to only where they knew they were going Bucky ran over to Y/n giving her a kiss and promised her that he would come back to her.

Since the only people left there was the nurses, injured men and some of the officials the camp was excruciatingly quiet. And since it was only just them… well the camp had become very boring.

Two weeks passed quicker than she thought, waiting to hear the loud chatter from the men to fill in the silence yet it never came. Another week went by and again there was no sight of them. Y/n was helping Private Smith sit up in more of a comfortable position when Mary came rushing in, slightly out of breath.

“Th-they’ve been captured!”

“What? How do you know?”

“Word just come in, I overheard it but apparently Captain America is going to rescue them because he knows someone in the unit”

“I-okay. Okay erm… we’ll need to get things set up for when they come back just incase they are hurt” Y/n rambled off, unaware that she was squeezing Smiths hand - not like he minded.

“He’ll be fine darling” Smith squeezed her hand back.

“I-I know. You need to eat-“

“I will don’t worry but you need to eat too darling as well”

Sitting down next to him they enjoyed a nice meal together, Smith doing everything to help get her mind off of Bucky and the others by talking to her about his life before the war, his wife and children, telling her all the plans he had planned when he got home. It worked. Until it was time to go to bed, being alone with her thoughts made her mind come up with all kinds of scenarios and most of them weren’t good.

It was another two weeks before word got to them that they were coming back. Captain America had saved them.

Y/n was in the medical tent filling out paperwork when applause erupted in the air as Captain America approached with the 107th behind him, hearing the cheers she jumped up and began getting things ready, as the first person was brought in her sole attention was on the solider and not the other one she had been worrying about in the five weeks since she had seen him.

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!” She smiled at hearing his voice as she concentrated on the patient in front of her.

“He’s already asked about you” Ann says as she put pressure on the solider’s wound.

“Ah, your the famous doc that he wouldn’t shut up talking about”

“Excuse me?”

“Barnes? Yeah he wouldn’t stop talking about you, if you ask me he’s in love with you” the guy winked.

It wasn’t until everything in the medical tent had calmed down that she had heard his voice again. “I’m injured doll”

Spinning around she sees him standing there with a grin on his dirt covered face. “Who are you?”

“Your future husband, silly. Missed you doll”

“I missed you too” hearing her words he crossed over to where she stood and placed his hands on her face, cupping her face before placing his lips against hers. Both sighing in content at the feeling they had both been missing for weeks.

“Are you hurt? Where?”

“‘M not hurt my love, just messing with you”

“Are you not going to introduce me Buck?” A new voice cut through making them take a step apart from each other.

“Y/n this is Steve, Steve this is my doll” Y/n smiled at the blond who happily returned the expression.

“It’s nice to meet the woman who this one wouldn’t stop talking about”

“I didn’t talk about her once” Bucky rushed out. “I didn’t doll” shaking his head whilst looking at her.

“He’s actually not the first person to tell me that” Y/n winked at Steve making the man laugh.

“I hate the both of you.”

A celebration was held that night when they came back, the men sharing the tale of how they were captured - all teasing each other when they said they weren’t scared. Telling the women how Captain America had told them to leave but they refused, Dum Dum said that they arrived together and were going to be leaving together. Everyone including Y/n hanging on to every word that was spoken of their rescue and how they defeated the enemy.

Bucky never spoke a word, no, he was too lost in watching the flames of the fire-pit flickering off Y/n’s face. Mesmerised by the way her eyes shined so brightly in the darkness, audibly groaning as he watched her bite her lip - his mind going straight to the gutters.

Much later that night Bucky took his time in making love to her.

The 107th Infantry Regiment had been teamed up with Steve to take down an organisation, Bucky promised her that he would contact her whenever they set up camp for the night. Every night they spoke even if it was just for a few minutes, he told her where they were and asked how everything back at camp was going, before ending their call he would tell her that he was coming back to her.

The last time she spoke to him he informed her that they were in Austria, he made her giggle when he complained that they had to go up the alps, telling her how cold it was. He then shocked her by telling her that he was in love with her. Before she could even respond the connection cut off.

She knew there was something wrong when she never received another call from him, Mary and Ann told her that he was just busy and that he would come back and everything was going to be fine. Every time she tried to speak with the General about the update of where they were he just walked away from her.

For two months she didn’t hear anything from him or from anyone, for two months she spent her time trying to take her mind off of the brunette who had wormed himself into her heart.

Mary came running over to the river where Y/n was sitting watching as the ducks swam past her. “Y/n… they’re back.”

Jumping up and running to where the men were, she looked around for the man who she had been missing more than anything, her eyes moved frantically from man to man who all seemed to have a problem with making eye contact with her. Her heart settled when a hand rested itself on her shoulder.

“Darlin’ I-I need to talk to you” it was Dum Dum.

“W-where is he? Dum…”

“Come with me love” he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and moved them to her tent. “I’m sorry darling, he… he didn’t make it”

“W-where is he though?”

“He fell off the train in the alps, we couldn’t find his body”

“No… no we need to fi-find him so his family can bury him… Dum please” his heart ached for the woman in front of him, all he could do was hold her in his arms as she broke down crying. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that Bucky’s last words to Steve was him begging the blond to make sure he looked after Y/n.

After crying for a good solid ten minutes she removed herself from his arms, wiped her tears before nodding and walking out - leaving Dum Dum standing there dumbfounded.

She knew herself that she wasn’t going to be able to be aloud time away to mourn, they weren’t dating or married, while they had feelings for each other and they spent every waking moment together it didn’t mean anything to the higher ups. Walking into the medical tent everyone went quiet at seeing her, Mary tried telling her that she could go and rest but Y/n just shook her head and got to work. She needed the distraction to take her mind away from the pain in her chest.

For months after she became a shell of herself, no longer laughing or smiling, no longer holding conversations with anyone, always working and taking little care for herself. And finally that day came when the war ended, everyone around her celebrated whilst she was packing up her things ready to head back home.

It had been two years since the war ended and people were still picking up their lives. Y/n was on her way to home after finishing her shift at the local hospital when a black car pulled up alongside her.

“Excuse me Miss, are you Y/n L/n?” A man asked as he got out of the car.

“I am, who are you?”

“Ah, we have a friend in common”

“We do? Wait what are you do-“

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be Miss L/n, wouldn’t want to hurt you.” Her eyes were wide as his hand tightened around her neck, her whole body trembling with fear. “Nighty night” he smirks as he presses a needle into her left arm.

Y/n woke up disoriented and dazed with her hands and ankles tied painfully tight, trying to speak but her words came out as slurred. “Ah little lambs awake. Go back to sleep little lamb” the same guy from side of the road spoke, but instead of a needle being pushed into her arm he raised his leg and kicked her straight in the face. Knocking her out instantly.

The second time she awoke was when a bucket of stale water was thrown into her face, both arms tied to arms of the chair she was uncomfortably sat in. A man infront of her smiled as she was trying to blink away the water droplets off her eyelashes.

“So you’re the precious little one that our Soldat keeps muttering about, no matter how many times we wipe his memories he always mutters your name”

“I-I don’t know who you are talking about”

“Soldat! You know him” the unnamed man shouts as if it was the most obvious thing. “Get her ready. Miss… I won’t lie to you, what’s going to happen next is going to hurt… well have fun” the man sighs dramatically and then chuckles making his way to the door, leaving her alone with four men holding guns.

Everything that happened next happened in a blur from two of the men grabbing her roughly and dragging her down the corridor, to being strapped down on a cold metal table - a meek looking man muttering something to her that she couldn’t quite understand before a large needle was injected into her arm. 

When she woke the next time she was in a small room - on the floor, that only had a chipped white framed bed with a thin mattress on top of it, she grimaced at seeing the blotches of stains. Her nose crunched upward at the nasty aroma lingering the room. Y/n flinched at hearing noises just outside, she could hear clearly that a man was laughing which caused her to back away and put her hands over her ears trying desperately to block out the sound. Not understanding why everything was amplified.

“Ah, little lamb you’re awake. I’m pleased to tell you that it’s worked, your going to be our new little asset-“

“W-what have you done to me?”

“We’ve made you stronger than any man could wish to be! We’ve made you fast-“

“What have you done!”

“Right, we’ve injected you with a special serum that’s enhanced you. Your lucky little lamb, those before you never made it past the thirty minute mark after injection. Now you’re ready for your second phase of becoming our little asset, boys… be careful with her.” The second he finished his sentence the same four men from before came in and grabbed her roughly once again.

Being dragged down a corridor and into a room she tried to beg the men to let her go, pleading with them that she had a family and they’d be looking for her, she even tried bribing them. Her begs and cries fell on deaf ears.

“Now little lamb, from what I can gather is that this chair here, a beauty in her own right isn’t actually nice to those that sit in her. She’s not exactly been kind to your little boyfriend but that’s because he tries to fight it, I’m going to be kind to you and suggest that you don’t do the same as him otherwise it will hurt more.” He waved his hand in the air lazily and the two agents that had ahold of her shoved her towards the chair, once sat they strapped her legs down and placed a strap across her chest.

“P-please stop ple-“

“None of that little lamb, it’s not going to hurt… much” he chuckles. “Try not to scream, it’ll will only annoy me”

She goes to reply when a loud buzzing sound came from both sides to her, frozen and strapped into place as two metal plates places themselves onto her face. Y/n could hear the man in a white coat start to count down from five, squeezing her eyes shut tightly she saw a blinding white light as her whole body spasmed and withered in pain. The agents all flinched as the glass behind them started to crack. Once it finished and the plates were moved away from her head, her head started to roll to the side as drool began seeping from her mouth.

“Little lamb, do you remember me?”

“W-w-where am I?” Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool, and her tongue felt heavy.

“What’s your name?”

“Y-Y/n”

“Do it again”

By the eighth time of having her mind wiped the window was gone, she had blood seeping from her ears and nose, her bottom half was wet. After they were done with her she was dragged back to her cell and tossed on the ground as if she was nothing.

Y/n had forgotten everything. She didn’t know who she was or where she was. They kept calling her little lamb. Crawling into the corner of the room she pulled her knees up to her chest and began mumbling incoherently to herself.

Every time she closed her eyes all she saw was a blacked out face with the brightest blue eyes.

For years she moved and breathed when they told her too, she spoke when they said, she ate when they told her to eat - not like it was much mind you.

Throughout those years she didn’t understand her purpose of why she was there, she never got to leave the place she was kept at, all she did was train and fight with those who were a lot bigger then her in height and weight.

What she didn’t realise is that she did have a purpose for those she worked for, and that she was leaving the base to do their bidding. Completely unaware that she had taken so many lives.

She didn’t know what they were injecting into her every few months was the sperm belonging to the Winter Soldier in hopes that they could create an army of pure bred super soldiers that they could use to fight and take down their enemies without themselves having to do anything. Or that the nurse who seemed to take pity on her would give her a tablet to force the innocent little foetus to never grow up in a world that it would only be used for pain and suffering.

She didn’t understand what she had done wrong, one minute she was training with the other super soldiers and then she was being hit and shocked by the batons and then dragged to the room that kept the cryostasis chambers, she pleaded with the agents that she would be good, begging them not to put her in there again but they didn’t listen. Her whole body stiffened when they gave her the option - chamber or chair.

She hated the chamber.

But she hated the chair even more.

“See you in a little while little lamb.”

Fury had told them that SHIELD had discovered a new Hydra base and that they needed to go and take it down, not even an hour later they were fifteen minutes away from touching down at the location of the base.

“Cap, it looks deserted…” Natasha said as she slid her gun into her holster.

“We still need to be cautious” Steve told them. He tapped his foot against Bucky’s to gain his attention. “You okay?”

“Don’t worry about me. Seriously punk I’m fine”

“Alright. Everyone be careful.”

They moved quietly and slowly towards the base - that had seen better days - without any trouble, getting inside they all stole quick glances at Bucky making him sigh. “No I’ve never been here before”

“Didn’t say anything Barnes”

“You didn’t need too”

As they moved further inside it became obvious that they were the only ones there, apart from a few rats running around. Steve gave the orders out, him and Wanda going together down one hallway, Bucky and Sam - which he did mainly to annoy his best friend, Natasha and Tony going off to find the computers to see if they can get anything off them.

“How long do you think this place has been empty for?” Wanda asked.

“Not sure… it looks like awhile.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are they all open?” Wanda points at cryo chambers, looking at Steve with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know? But let’s keep looking there has to be something here for us to ta-“ Wanda cuts him off with a gasp. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a woman, she’s pretty…”

“What are you- Y/n?” Wanda’s head snapped from the woman in the chamber to the blond standing next to her.

“Do-do you know her? Wait… Y/n?”

Pressing his comms button Steve tells Bucky to come to where he was, told him to hurry up, hearing the distress tone of their captain Nat and Tony also went along too.

“Steve is this the same Y/n that Bucky calls out for in his sleep?” Wanda asked, watching him nodding slowly she looked down sadly.

The team had slowly grown use to Bucky screaming and hearing him thrash around in his sleep and had even witnessed him trashing him room trying to escape, thinking and believing he was still at the Hydra base he was kept at. One night it had actually taken all of them to try and pin him down on the ground after a horrific nightmare, it took Thor to grab Mjölnir to place it on Bucky’s naked chest to pin him down and for Wanda to use her magic to clear his mind just so they could get him to calm down. She apologised profusely for it the next day but he just smiled, placed his hand on hers gently and thanked her. But every night without fail they all heard him mumbling or crying out for Y/n and none of them wanted to overstep that boundary by asking him directly so they asked Steve who this person was and all he told them was that it wasn’t his place to say anything but that she meant the world to Bucky. And after that they let it be though they were all curious.

And now Wanda was staring up at the woman who had been on her friends mind for so long, she didn’t know how Bucky was going to react to seeing her here.

“Steve?” Bucky stood at the doorway with Sam, Natasha and Tony behind him. “What’s up?”

“Buck�� she-she’s here”

“Who?”

Steve watched as Bucky paled and his eyes got shinier with tears filling them. “Y/n.”

“N-no no you’re lying Steve.” His eyes moved to Wanda when he noticed her shifting from foot to foot. He knew by the look on her face that what Steve was saying wasn’t a lie.

He moved slowly to where Wanda stood, never taking his eyes off her until he stood in front of her, it wasn’t until she gave him a sad smile that he finally looked to his right. A choked sob was the only sound in the whole building. Wanda tried to grab him before he fell but it was no use, Bucky landed with a loud thud on his knees as he looked up at the woman he had fallen madly in love with in the forties. The woman he had made a promise too. A promise he couldn’t keep.

“St-Steve we need-I need to get her out of here”

“I know Buck, I know but we need to be careful, we don’t know how long she’s been in there for”

“We can’t leave her!”

“We aren’t going to leave her Barnes, just give me a few minutes to try and figure out how we’re going to get sleeping beauty out of here, okay?” Tony says before looking around the room to find a way to get her out.

As everyone moved around the room trying to find a way to get her out of the chamber Bucky stayed on his knees looking helplessly up at her. “That’s why you couldn’t find her, she’s been here”

“I tried Buck-“

“No, I know you did. H-how long do you think she’s been here for?”

“I… I don’t know”

Not long after, Tony managed to find a way to open up the door to the chamber without causing any damage to Y/n. They all shivered as the cold air hits them, Bucky took the straps off her and took her gently into his arms. His body tensed when Tony injected something into her arm. “It’s just to keep her asleep until we get back to the tower”.

Steve told him to take Y/n onto the jet so they could finish off clearing the base, they all watched as he carried her as if she was the most delicate thing in the world.

“Steve, she’s a super solider” Nat looked over at him from the computer.

“Have you found anything else about her?”

“She’s got way more kills under her belt than I do, they call her little lamb” saying that nickname made her nose scrunch up. “And… oh Steve, they’ve been injecting her with Bucky’s sperm, it never worked” Steve’s eyes burned a hole into the computer screen angry at everything that he was hearing.

“Sh-she was a nurse you know? A great one, all the men said they loved going to her because she was just the kindest of them all. She deserved so much better than this.”

“Steve she’s been in cryo for twelve years… they wrote down when they were put in and taken out, she was never taken out twelve years ago”

“Jesus. Right, gather everything you can on Y/n and I’ll meet you on the jet”

Leaving Natasha to do what she did best he went to the jet, he stood there watching as Bucky stroke his fingers through the top of her head, not taking his eyes off her face.

“I-I’ve put blankets on her from the back, she’s still freezing Stevie.”

“Buck, there’s something I need to tell you about her.”

“What is it?”

“She’s like us, she’s got the serum too. T-they were trying to impregnate her with-with your… you know, and Nat found out that she’s been in cryo for twelve years”

“T-they don’t care do they? They don’t care who they hurt or the pain they inflict, they-they’ve hurt the sweetest, big hearted person and for what? Just to leave her in there for all those years? It’s my fault isn’t it?”

“No Buck, it’s not your fault-“

“It has to be, I kept saying her name when they first got me. I didn’t want to forget her so I kept saying her name and look what happened!”

“Bucky it’s not- don’t try and interrupt me- it’s not your fault. But we’ve found her and she’s going to come home with us and we can help her”

“Did she do bad things too?” His voice was so small and quiet that it was lucky that Steve had enhanced hearing otherwise he wouldn’t have heard what his friend said.

“Yes but Buck we know her, we know she’s a good person just like you she’s been made to do bad but we can help her, I promise you”

“We’ll all defend her tin-man” Tony says, when both men look over they see the four of them nodding in agreement.

Two weeks after finding his only love and brining her back to the compound Bucky refused to move away from her hospital bed, on the fourth day Steve had to beg him to come with him to get some food - it wasn’t until his stomach growled in hunger that he finally accepted Steve’s offer, he left her with a kiss on her forehead and made Natasha and Wanda watch over her, made them both promise to ring him the second Y/n started to stir awake.

Steve then tried to get him to leave just so he could get a good night sleep or to have a shower but the brunette shrugged him off - it wasn’t until Dr Cho came in and told him to get a shower, told him that he should be clean and smell nice for when Y/n woke up. That had him running to his room and showering quickly before running back down to her.

It was better than nothing.

“Steve?”

“Mhm”

“What’s Fury going to do when Y/n wakes up?”

“Nothing, him and Tony have already pleaded her case and all she’s got to do when she wakes is give all the information she can remember. Fury is positive that she’ll be be fully pardoned and he thinks that she could be an asset to the team, that is if she wants to stay”

“W-why-do you think she’ll want to leave?”

“I don’t know Bucky”

“Would you be mad at me if I left with her?”

“No. I would be mad though if you didn’t invite me over for dinner” Bucky let out a laugh whilst he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

Steve and Wanda had left after spending a couple of hours keeping Bucky company as he watched over Y/n, he was just starting to drift off to sleep when he felt her hand twitch.

“Y/n? Doll?” Another twitch. “Doll, come on wake up”

Bucky shot straight up knocking the chair backwards when Y/n jumped up out of the bed, falling down instantly, he watched as she pulled herself to the wall bringing her knees to her chest, her eyes moving around the room frantically. Her voice hoarse as she mumbles softly to herself, Bucky slowly moved around the bed.

“Doll? Y/n it-its me Bucky”

“Bucky?”

“Yes, yes it’s me” she says his name again, her teared filled eyes looking straight at him. “You’re safe.”

“W-where are we?”

“Somewhere safe, I promise.”

“They will be here for me” slowly standing up, ignoring the blood seeping down her arm she moved over to Bucky. “I-I need to leave, I need to go back home, they-they’ll be mad at me”

“Y/n hey, hey stop, doll look at me, they aren’t looking for you okay? You’re safe here, I’m not letting anyone hurt you again. I promise”

“You promise?”

“I promise” Bucky moved closer as soon as she was in reach he pulled her in his chest, squeezing her tightly, repeatedly pressing his lips to her hair.

Helen came in a little later to run some checks, talking to Y/n like she was an actual person and not like she was a nobody like she was use to, when she said thank you it meant more than just a simple gesture. The next day Steve, Sam and Wanda walked into the hospital room shocked to seeing Y/n sitting up and talking to Bucky, though they had slowly gotten use to seeing Bucky coming out of his shell even after all these years of knowing him Sam and Wanda stood there watching Bucky be a whole new person, the only person that didn’t find it weird was Steve who had a huge smile on his face, happy to see his best friend finally happy and at peace now that he had Y/n with him.

When Fury got word that she was awake he came down to see her, she answered all of the questions he had as best as she could. Fury reassured both her and Bucky that nothing would happen to her.

A month after waking up Y/n hand in hand with Bucky sat in a room with the team standing behind them, Fury at the end of the table and members of the government in front of them. She was nervous to hear what punishment she was going to receive, yes Fury promised that she wouldn’t be but when Bucky finally caved and told her all of the crimes she was connected to - not only did her heart break at hearing the things that she did but she feared what kind of punishment she was going to receive, she felt like she needed to be.

“Y/n L/n you are granted a full pardon, but you will need to be a part of the Avengers-“

“That’s not what we agreed on!” Fury interrupted the man.

“It’s the best thing-“

“I’ll do it. I-I need to do it” Y/n nodded.

Bucky and Steve had to beg Tony not to throw a party to celebrate Y/n’s freedom and her new role in the team of superheroes, he reluctantly agreed but told them they needed to do something as a team for her. Bucky told him a nice meal would do, it wouldn’t push her out of the comfort zone she had created for herself, so that’s what they did. Their laughter throughout the meal bounced off the walls as Y/n was retelling her memories of the antics Bucky would get up to during camp, told them how she managed to push Steve in to the river when he refused to go into the water.

In that month Bucky had been sleeping in bed with Y/n after she begged him to stay with her, and that night was no different. The team no longer heard Bucky’s screams because he no longer had nightmares.

“Y/n”

“Yeah?”

“I never stopped loving you, you know?”

“I’ve never stopped loving you either.” She smiled up at him. Slowly their lips met, both sighing at the familiar feeling that they had been deprived of feeling for nearly eighty years.

Just as Bucky closed his eyes to get some sleep he began chuckling when he heard Y/n’s question.

“Are you still going to marry me so I can put up with you for the rest of my life?”

“I made a promise didn’t I?”

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama

[sanakiras]

HEAVEN

PAIRING — jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 3.4k

SYNOPSIS — wonwoo has a reputation for being distant, quiet and a bit mysterious. once you get to know him better, though, you come to find the sweet, shy boy underneath the surface.

TAGS — established relationship, explicit sexual content, sub-ish virgin!wonwoo, lowkey corruption kink, i have a sickening crush on this man can you tell, not proofread :)

♪ — the nbhd - heaven,, hank lotion - k-sEx

NOTE — gam3 bo1 wonwoo and ep 1 nana tour wonwoo footage has been making me act UP and i think he’s just so cute <3 screw the hard dom wonu agenda i like to see my men a lil WEAK ‼️😁

like most people, you felt rather intimidated when you met jeon wonwoo for the first time.

stoic, quiet, intelligent. the strong and silent type. that was the clear image you had of him. and to top it all off, he had the criminally good looks too. a relatively rare kind of man to come across, in your opinion.

though you began to see him in a different light after bonding with him over your shared love for video games. since then, you’ve discovered he can actually be quite talkative, cracking silly puns or laughing at the corniest dad jokes. he’s well-spoken and is actually very open about his feelings, which you found refreshing.

and while developing a friendship with him, you realized how much of a big softie he actually is, which paints quite the contrast compared to his cold and quiet persona he unintentionally seems to put up towards those outside his circle of close friends and family.

it reminds you of the day he asked you out — that sweet, shy smile on his face with rosy cheeks, all flustered and stuttering that you really don’t have to say yes if you don’t feel like it and he’ll push it all to the side like nothing happened if that’s what you’d prefer—

you very easily interrupted him by agreeing to go on a date with him. you’d never seen him smile wider.

wonwoo is cute when he smiles.

and despite his nervousness in the beginning, he still made efforts to be as talkative as he could and show you his interest in you, which you found very sweet. you had a great time with him, and you noticed rather quickly how comfortable you felt around him.

a couple dates later, he asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend, and you certainly didn’t refuse him.

he’s also turned out to be a gentleman in his own way — subtly saying he could do certain things for you to make your life easier in that monotone voice of his, eyes following you around whenever he’s with you.

the first time he slept over at your place was rather recently after you two made it official. it wasn’t planned, since he was supposed to go back to his place after your date, but due to issues with public transport, you offered him to stay with you instead.

with his face and chest bare, he got into bed next to you. of course you’d imagined what he looked like underneath his big hoodies, but actually having him by your side like this was different.

and wonwoo was putting every bit of effort into playing it cool, even though he was freaking out to be sleeping next to his first girlfriend, forcing himself to look away from your tank top that left very little to the imagination.

yet ironically, it was all he could fantasize about before drifting to sleep.

normally, you’d only let a guy into your bed to do things other than sleeping once you’ve been dating for quite a while. it’s never been something you like to initiate quickly — but wonwoo’s been making you question it. severely.

because he looks so hot when he’s out on the field with his football team, when he’s working out, when he’s gaming on his pc, even when he just fucking smiles at you. the worst thing of it all might be that he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit aware of how attractive he is, nor what effect it has on you.

maybe you should really just tell him you want to jump him like a tree.

but you don’t want to rush him. for all you know, he doesn’t feel like doing that at all with you yet, and for some reason you just didn’t know when or how to ask him about it. later, you thought to yourself.

though you will say you’ve been pushing his buttons a little over the course of time. ever since that night, you’ve subtly been putting yourself on display for him. low-cut shirts and dresses so he can take a peek at your cleavage, accidentally exposing a bit of the fabric of your lingerie, sitting in his lap and rubbing up on him — unintentionally, of course.

it took every ounce of self-control in your body not to smirk when you felt him stiffen up underneath you.

the progress of your relationship has been nothing but positive, really. but you’re aching for him to just touch you at this point.

the day you hit your breaking point isn’t much later. you were trying on some newly bought dresses in front of him, one more revealing than the other — sundresses always work magic on men for whatever reason — and you turned around to find him pathetically trying to hide his hard-on while seated on your bed.

and you just couldn’t find it in you to wait any longer.

so that’s how you ended up sitting in his lap, hands on the back of his neck as you’re grinding against him. his glasses are sitting lop-sided on his nose, black locks messy from your fingers threading through them, lips swollen from your kisses.

the moment he feels your fingers tugging at his hoodie, he feels the need to clear up what he’s been meaning to tell you for a while now.

“i need to tell you something. i’ve—” he cuts himself off when he accidentally lets out a whimper, “i’ve never had sex with anyone.”

he’s still heavily breathing, looking at you in anticipation, and you just can’t escape the buzzing feeling you get from the idea of taking his virginity.

“do you want to?” you ask him, and how could he say no when you’re holding his face like this, looking at him like you’re willing to give him the ride of his life?

“yeah, yeah, i just—i usually don’t last very long,” he sheepishly admits, then internally asking himself why the fuck he would say that, “sorry, i’m nervous.”

but you think it’s endearing. “i don’t mind. we can always go for a second round, right?”

all he can do is nod his head in agreement. “i, i um—i’m not sure what to do next. i’m sorry, this is embarrassing.”

“it’s not, really. it’s not some big performance you need to put up, it’s something fun and exciting and intimate. you can go ahead and relax, and tell me if you like or don’t like what i’m doing.” you reassure him so patiently, which puts him at ease.

jesus — if anything, he’s already a whimpering, stuttering mess and you’re hardly even touching him.

so you move your hand down into his boxers, fingers wrapping around him to test the waters. he gasps in surprise once he feels you touching him, heat rushing to his cheeks.

“just let me take care of you, ‘kay? we can stop anytime.” you tell him, and he trusts you enough to let you go on.

you press another kiss to his lips before moving backwards, fingers taking a hold of the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers.

the cold on his skin makes him shiver, but he’s hardly given the time to feel exposed in front of you when you’ve already got your hands on him, pleasantly surprised by his size.

“you’re so big, wonu.” you tell him in a sweet voice, feeling like you’re about to drool at the sight of him.

“didn’t think i was big.” he mumbles more to himself than to you, staring at the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing.

you chuckle a little as you watch him. “you are. gonna have to work for it to make you fit into me.” the words make his eyes widen, images of you getting fucked by him flashing through his mind.

“fuck, really?”

“mhm. but you’ll do that for me, won’t you?”

wonwoo is absolutely crumbling underneath you here. the effect that your mere words have on him should be studied, because shit, he’s never felt this hot before. why is it so hot in here? is he sweating already? “yeah, i’ll—i’ll do anything you want me to.”

he’s such a sweetheart that it makes you want to ruin him.

for the sake of both his and your own pleasure, you decide not to tease any longer and touch his cock with your lips. he lets out a moan of surprise, the feeling being unfamiliar to him, but holy shit — this has got to be what heaven feels like.

his chest heaves as he tries to control his breathing once more, focusing on keeping his breathing by his stomach. your tongue darts out to lick his cock, and he whimpers, which makes you triumphantly smile a little.

you’re genuinely curious to see how long he can last, so you catch him by surprise by taking him into your mouth as far as possible, and his hand subconscously flies to the back of your head, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to push your head down or pull it back. he releases a choked moan, spurring you on to keep him lodged in your throat despite his efforts to pull you off him.

“fuck—please don’t make me cum already, baby, please—” he begs, loving the feeling of your mouth on him like that — he just doesn’t want to hit his peak that fast.

unfortunately for him, you do.

with your mouth currently no longer on him, you gently jerk him off instead, his hips automatically bucking into your grip. “what if i want you to?”

“you’ve barely—barely touched me. ‘s embarrassing.” he chokes out. the heat is still rushing to his cheeks. his hands are shaking.

of course he’s nervous. you’re his first time, his first girlfriend, it’s all new to him. he’s clearly afraid you might be turned off by him being all flustered like this.

so you make it your mission to show him it’s very much the opposite.

discarding your dress, you’re left in your tank top and underwear, nipples poking through the thin, white fabric. you move to tilt his face up with your glossy, acrylic nail, gently holding his chin, your face mere inches away from his.

“do you have any idea how wet i am? just from seeing you like this?” you ask, pulling his one hand down so he can feel the dampness of your panties. “bet you could slip right in.”

a broken whimper slips out of his mouth when he feels it. he didn’t know you were this turned on.

you push his head and upper body back against the pillows, making him lie down fully, and you’re just so eager to suck the life out of him.

the feeling of your warm mouth and tongue around him makes him experience a sensation he didn’t think was possible. christ, this must be what heaven feels like.

“oh my god—you’re so fucking good.” he’s arching his back with his eyes tightly shut from the pleasure you’re giving him. it’s only when you take him as far in your throat as possible that the first guttural groan is ripped from the depths of his chest. it’s a low, sexy sound that makes you clench around nothing.

he’s burning hot under you, causing his glasses to fog up a little. he carelessly throws the pair onto his nightstand, the grip on the back of your head becoming harsher and less gentle than before, because he’s that fucking close now.

it’s cute seeing wonwoo not knowing what to do with himself. keeping your mouth on his cock, gripping the sheets, throwing his head back before he casts his eyes back down to watch you suck him off — it’s like he’s being overstimulated in the best way possible.

it’s enough for you to sense he’s close, which makes you take your mouth off him to jerk him off instead, all so you can watch him chase his release. “that’s it, wonu, give it to me.”

there’s a sudden shiver that runs from his back and core all the way down to his toes. he tenses up, unintentionally grabbing your wrist to stop your movements as he trembles and his body gives in to his orgasm.

once he’s coming down from his high, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

“that was… holy shit.” he laughs a little to himself, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“i’m that good, huh?”

“yeah.”

“wanna keep going?”

“mhm.”

“okay. take off your shirt.”

wonwoo blinks for a moment. he practically forgot he was still wearing one, so he sits up and gets rid of the black shirt, throwing it beside your bed, now completely bare before you.

if he’s being honest, you did ease his nerves by letting him have his first orgasm already. the strange sense of shame he previously felt has disappeared into the air, with only nervous excitement left.

he feels good.

especially when he watches you move to sit on your knees on the bed, removing the tank top and slipping out of your underwear.

his eyes are glued to your naked body, hardly able to look away — that is, until you sit down in his lap, your dripping heat touching his hardening dick, making him twitch under you.

“where do you keep your condoms?”

the question forces him out of his constant staring at your body. “uh—nightstand.” he mutters, taking the initiative to reach and get it himself.

thankfully, he manages to get it on himself quickly. you urge him to lie back down again while you position yourself above him, shamelessly staring at his strong chest and broad shoulders.

his mouth is agape when you sink down on him, and fuck, he’s in so deep.

the stretch burns, especially because you didn’t get yourself ready, but you’re so dripping wet to the point you don’t care — you need him in you.

wonwoo notices you struggle despite your arousal. “you don’t have to take me all the way if it hurts.”

you hum, a half-smirk creeping onto your face. “but it hurts so good. so i will.”

once he’s sheathed fully inside you, he’s subconsciously holding his breath. the anticipation for you to move is killing him. the sensitivity of his dick makes him whimper, his lashes fluttering as his teeth sink into his lower lip in a failed attempt to hold it together.

you decide to tease him a little by clenching down on him. his hands fly to your hips, gripping the skin harder than intended from the sudden feeling, his breathing becoming erratic again. “hah—don’t do that, please, i don’t wanna cum yet baby—please.”

“why? you close?” you ask him with an innocent face, knowing damn well what you’re doing to him.

“yeah. need you so bad.” he answers truthfully, his ego and pride nowhere to be found anymore. whether he sounds pathetic or not, he doesn’t give a shit. all he knows is that you’re sitting on top of him and he needs you to make him feel what he’s been desperate to feel for so damn long.

so you tilt your head. “‘s okay, wonu. i’ll give it to you.”

he can hardly even make out a response before you lift your hips and proceed to sink back down on him, your hands on his chest. a filthy moan rolls past his lips — you think it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard in your damn life.

then you begin to roll your hips, and he sucks through his teeth from the feeling, a mix of overstimulation and pleasure rushing through him. once you let out your first dragged-out moan, his fingers twitch for a moment, digging deeper into your skin.

“have you thought about this? fucking me?”

despite the position he’s in right now, he still feels his face heat up when you ask him dirty things like that, even more so when he answers them.

“yeah, i did.”

“when? tell me. i wanna hear it.” you tell him, and when you’re so gorgeously riding him like this, how could he not oblige?

wonwoo swallows, stuttering as he focuses on recalling the memories while admiring you and the feeling you’re letting him experience. “when i saw you wearing that short skirt on our second date, and—and that time you came to watch me at the football game. couple of my teammates were drooling over you. so was i.”

his words turn you on, because you doubted whether you were sensing actual jealousy from him that night, and this confirms it.

“were you?” you ask, running your nails down his stomach. “what’d you do about it?”

he bites his lip. “i’ll sound like a pervert if i answer that.”

teasing him again, you push yourself down on him almost harshly, relishing in the way he gasps under you. wonwoo is wonderfully responsive in bed, and you’re having a fucking field trip with it.

“yeah? try me.”

“i touched myself after getting home, and i... thought about you. in that skirt.”

“i’ll wear it for you next time.” you smile, watching him close his eyes in pleasure when you leave your marks on his chest, putting a few hickeys on his neck and collarbone on purpose. “i touched myself thinking of you, too.”

that makes him twitch inside you, which is exactly what you wanted.

his hands dip to the curve of your ass, following your movement. “really?”

“mhm. i thought you looked so sexy in your football attire. you were wearing that tight compression shirt that you always wear when you go to the gym too — drove me nuts, wonu.” you confess, which seems to work as a brief shot of adrenaline for him.

he moves to sit up, bringing your bodies closer together by looping his arms around your waist, the slight change in position making you moan.

the drag of his cock inside you is slowly making you go insane. your face is hot and you’re dripping wet for him, sucking him in to the point you feel like you need to claw at the walls.

“god, feels so good.” he mutters, his mouth finding your breasts before he begins to suck on the skin like a man starved.

once he notices you’re both getting closer, but you’re getting tired from your position on top, he takes a breath and flips you over, now hovering above you.

burying his face in the crook of your neck, he holds onto your body and fucks you. his thrusts are harder than he intends them to, the control over his body lost in his relentless drive to make you both feel good.

he’s panting hard, doing everything in his power to make you cum first this time while indulging in his own pleasure as well. “am i doing good for my first time? does it feel good?”

god, you can only half-catch the words with the way he’s fucking you. it’s almost funny — such a sweetheart he is, asking you if he’s doing well while simultaneously fucking you into oblivion.

“you’re so good, wonu. so good—‘m so close.” you cry out, manicured nails digging into his back, making him groan.

“wanna feel you cum around me so bad.” the words almost sound like a plea, like he’s begging you for it.

then he kisses your neck, and he hits the perfect spot inside you over and over, and it’s enough to make you clench so hard around him that he can’t hold it any longer. your orgasm makes your legs shake, and he fucks you right through it, making you wonder why the hell it took the universe so long to let him into your life.

he moans and whines and shakes when he hits his climax, twitching inside you, filling up the condom. with heavy breaths, he lets his body rest on top of you, his head by your collarbone, a comfortable silence emerging as your heartbeats slow and breathing steadies.

surprisingly, it’s him who speaks up first.

“i’m gonna need a while for my legs to start working again.” he chuckles breathily, covering his face a little when he notices you poking fun at him.

“aw, baby, did i drain you that much?”

“i genuinely can’t even feel my limbs.”

you laugh at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he smiles so sweetly — as if he didn’t just fuck the living daylights out of you. “wanna go again?”

he blushes a bit, tilting his head as if he has to think about it, before sheepishly giving you his answer.

“... yeah.”

thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[pencil-n-pen]

Is it possible for you to expand on your overworked series w Leon? I actually loved it sm

first request !! of course lovely, hope you like it! <3

masterlist | first part | previous part

NOT SO MESSY

✮‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🧸 ⋅ ˚✮

college student! leon x college student, eldest daughter! reader

summary: things get difficult- they pile up, and the harder things get, the further you start to drift. Luckily, Leon isn’t pushed away so easily.

cw: realistic depictions of depression, reader is overwhelmed with everything, abandonment issues if you squint (not that hard tbh) leon being a very good boyfriend :)

a/n: been having a bit of a rough time recently and when this request came in i knew what i had to do

hey!! so this fic deals with realities of depressive episodes and how the room(s) we live in reflect that. i have had depression most of my life, so I’m drawing on personal experience. That being said, if you are bothered by the mentions of “gross” depressive behavior in this fic, i.e not showering, dirty plates/moldy coffee in the bedroom, or not brushing teeth, and plan on leaving a comment about how “depression is just an excuse to be gross” just don’t. scroll on past, this fic isn’t for you :)

✮⋆˙₊⋅ ୨୧ ᝰ.ᐟ

You’re hiding from Leon.

Not a good idea in the long run, because one, he always manages to find you —always— but two, when he does inevitably sniff you out, he’ll be upset for two reasons— because you’d let things get bad and because you’re hiding it.

Your room is a disaster. It’s always the first sign. Well, the first sign is usually the general unwillingness to do anything but get out of bed, sleep, or binge watch tv, but still. Half-empty water bottles litter every available surface, accompanied by papers —both unimportant and important— and dirty dishes. You don’t even want to look at the coffee cups.

It’s disgusting. You know it is. Actually, truly disgusting. There’s mold on some of the plates for Christ’s sake. And all you have to do is stop whining and just do it. But you can’t.

You can’t.

Because letting everything else get this bad is the only way you’ve managed to keep your grades intact during this episode. Something had to give— you didn’t have the energy to give to anymore. So your room fell into complete and utter disarray and you haven’t been eating well like Leon wants and you don’t even want to talk about your shower routine.

It’s bad. Everything is bad. You hate going home to your dirty, gross room, and you’re tired of being too tired to do nothing but homework, and you’re afraid of how upset Leon is going to be when he finds out.

And you’re so frustrated. Because you’re not that girl— you can’t be the girl with the dirty, messy room and the unkempt hair and the bags under her eyes who doesn’t leave the house. You can’t— you’re more than that. You’re you. You’re that girl. The girl. Beauty and brains. You just don’t know how you let it get this bad.

And you don’t know how to climb your way out.

—

Leon hasn’t been by in… awhile.

This of course, is not his fault. Over the course of this episode, as things got worse and worse, you got better and better at keeping him away.

At first, you were ashamed. You were doing so good for awhile, before everything got bad again. And then, you started worrying— you’re pushing him away, hiding everything from him, and once he realizes, he’s not going to be happy. You’re scared of losing him because you can’t keep it together.

You don’t dare to admit it outside the safety and comfort of your own mind, but you’ve really come to rely on Leon. He’s always there for comfort when you need want it. Even when you don’t know. He knows. He always does.

A hand on your thigh, squeezing to distract you from picking on your hangnails during class. A large, warm arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight to him. That deep rumble in his chest when he’s telling you something, his voice low and sliding around in your brain, making all your thoughts stick together.

And you’re not allowed to miss him. You pushed him away. You told him he was distracting you. You told him you didn’t want him at the apartment.

You’re not allowed to miss him. But that doesn’t stop you from doing it anyway.

You’re sitting on your bed, staring at the slivers of floor you can see and wishing it would all go away so you’d stop feeling so bad. You hate staring at the mess, hate seeing it— but you can’t bring yourself to look away. The shirt you’re wearing probably smells —you haven’t kept up on your laundry so you’ve been cycling through the same three shirts for around the house wear— and you can practically feel the tangles you’re getting in your hair from not washing it. You haven’t showered in awhile either. Your skin feels grimy.

Your gross. This is gross.

A loud knock sounds on your door and you snap your head up, frozen.

Only one person knocks like that on your door.

“Shit— uh, coming!”

You pick your way across the floor, stumbling over clothes and hangers and seriously, how many disposable water bottles can one person drink?

You finally reach the door and crack it open the tiniest sliver.

Leon’s staring back at you, his expression unreadable.

That’s not good. You can usually read them, nowadays.

Your eyes catch what he’s wearing- his uni sweatshirt and one of his favorite pairs of old, worn flannel pajama pants.

That’s not good either. If he’s wearing his comfortable clothes, it means he’s not leaving for awhile.

You stare at him through the crack in the door for a little while, unable to break the silence. He shifts his stance, rocking back onto his heels and putting his hands in the pockets of his pants.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You don’t respond. You begin to chew anxiously on your lip, hands going white-knuckled on the door-frame.

“Princess,” He says, and you can’t tell if his voice sounds fondly annoyed or just annoyed when he says it, “You wanna tell me what’s been going on?”

You shake your head.

“Oh? Not talking today?” He relaxes his stance a bit, “Is the reason you’ve been avoiding me the same reason you won’t let me in your room?”

You resolve begins to crack. It always does that when he’s right in front of you, every part of you longing to slot yourself into place next to him, safe and protected.

You stamp down the urge.

“I’m just busy right now Leon. I’m not avoiding you.”

“Sweetheart, I stopped believing that the second you started wearing the same sweatshirt for a week straight. You’re not well.”

“So? What does that matter to you?”

“Do you really need me to answer that?”

It becomes a competition then- who’s gonna look away first. Leon’s staring into your eyes, clearly cataloguing your face, that unreadable expression still in place. You meet his gaze right back, wondering how long it will take to get him to break.

He doesn’t. He must find whatever it was he was looking for in your face though, because he smirks, crossing his arms and leaning back.

“You’re not going to outlast me, princess.”

You sag, frustrated. “I just…”

You suck in a breath, rushing all the words out at once.

“I’m ashamed and I don’t want you to see it.”

He blinks. “Your room?”

You nod. “It’s… really bad. I let it get really bad.”

“No,” He starts slowly, taking a step towards the door. “You don’t let things happen, baby. Sometimes we can’t help how bad things get.”

“But I—“

“No but’s. You’re overwhelmed. Of course some stuff is gonna fall through the cracks.”

You scrub a hand over your face and immediately regret it, the feeling of your unwashed skin grating on your already frayed nerves. “It’s gross. I haven’t showered and there’s mold in the coffee cups—“

“Don’t care.”

“But you should. It’s disgusting, Leon. I’m—“

“Hey now,” He says, voice hardening. “Don’t finish that sentence. Now, answer one question for me: do you want to keep living in your room like this?”

“No! But I can’t—“

He shrugs. “Then I’ll help you clean it.”

He says it so easily. Like it’s not a gross, hard task that he shouldn’t have to do.

You shake your head. “You don’t have to, really—“

“I want to.”

The words go straight to your chest. Warmth begins to pool and spread where they struck, tendrils curling around your fingers and throat.

“Why?” The word is lodged in your throat- you barely manage to get it out.

“Because you’re my girl,” He says, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his warm ones brushing your chapped in a kiss so gentle you almost wouldn’t feel it, if not for the press and heat of his face. “And when my girl needs —or wants— something, she gets it. Especially when it comes to help. Okay?”

Tears begin to well unbidden in your eyes. “Okay.”

You open the door wider, stepping back and letting him see into your room. It all feels raw— you’re like an open, exposed nerve. Letting him see your room is a bit like cracking your chest open and letting him see all the messy, bloody, ugly bits that keep you going.

He steps into the room. Pauses. Looks around. Looks at you.

“You wanna do this?”

You nod, biting your lip and hunching in on yourself as he takes in the mess.

“Baby,” He says slowly, stepping into your space, sliding his hands across your waist, “What do you need from me?”

You press your face into his shoulder, breathing in deeply.

“Come on. Use your words.”

“Can you just—“ You step back, “Can you please just… sit? On the bed? I just, I just need—“

He strokes a hand over your cheekbone. “You need me to sit on your bed and tell you you’re doing good?”

You can’t help the whine that builds in your throat. Not really.

“Mmm. My poor baby.” He presses a light kiss to your forehead then walks away, sitting and immediately making himself comfortable on the sliver of open space on your bed.

He reaches for your bedside table, opening a drawer and pulling out the headphones he knows you keep there.

(You keep them there because he bought them for you. Your old headphones were falling apart but did the job just fine —most of the time— but Leon wouldn’t stand for it. The next day, you’d opened your door to a brand new, incredibly expensive pair of headphones you’d brought up wanting maybe once. So when you’re not using them for studying or walking to and from classes on campus, they live there. Safe.)

“You know listening to music makes you more productive,” He says, extending them out to you, “Leave one side off, so you can hear me.”

You take the headphones, sliding them on and powering them up- though not without leaving one ear uncovered. You put on one of your more upbeat playlists- something to keep you moving.

It’s slow going at first. Since the trash and dishes are what makes the room feel the grossest, you start with them first. Wrangling the dirty coffee cups and water bottles and other various forms of trash into the trash bag is an arduous promise, and more than once you have to tell Leon he might want to cover his nose.

He remains where he is, scrolling idly on his phone and occasionally putting it down just to watch you clean. After a few moments of staring, he’ll pipe up with a comment:

“Keep it up, princess.”

“You can do it.”

“I’ll be right here if you need a anything.”

The last one is by far the most tempting offer.

Once you’ve finished getting all the trash and dishes out —the room not only feels and smells one hundred times better already— you move on to the bigger part of the project: the clothes. They’re everywhere. And they probably all need to be washed, but doing that many loads of laundry is—

“I’ll take them to the washing machine if you sort them.”

You jolt, not noticing him standing next to you.

“You don’t—“

“Start with that pile over there. It’s the biggest. Everything else will feel easy once you finish that part.”

While you (begrudgingly) begin tackling the pile, he cues up a t.v show on your laptop, then hooks it up to your monitor so it plays on a bigger screen. Then he leaves the room, giving your shoulder a squeeze as he walks by you.

(He’d given you the monitor too. He’d told you that he upgraded and didn’t need his old one anymore, but the monitor was in suspiciously good condition. But you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter how guilty the amount of money he spends on you makes you feel.)

You slip your headphones off, putting them back in the drawer and use the ambience of the show you’ve seen ten-thousand times and the now available space on the bed to sort clothes in a relatively timely fashion.

You’re starting to slow down a little, a headache beginning to form behind your eyes right when a delicious smell hits your nose and the door opening signals Leon’s return.

“I bring sustenance for the princess.”

He holds two plates of grilled ham-and-cheese sandwiches. One with ketchup, and one without.

You snatch the plate with ketchup and devour the sandwich in seconds, making a grabby motion for the water bottle tucked under his arm.

He chuckles, but obliges, sitting down at your desk to tuck into his own sandwich. You go back to your folding, headache miraculously waning and energy renewed. Go figure. After a few minutes, Leon disappears with the plates and then reappears with an empty laundry basket.

You wordlessly point to a pile, engrossed in the show he put on as “background noise”, folding and sorting clothes as you go.

And so bit by bit, your room gets cleaner, and cleaner, until Leon’s taken the last of the loads down to the washing machine and you’re making your bed and you’ve got an entire season of the show under your belt.

It’s long been dark outside, and you’re making your bed now, fluffing your pillows and laying your plushies in their respective spots.

Leon comes up behind you, draping his body over your back, hands over your shoulders and chin resting on your head.

“Looks good in here, princess. I think you deserve a little reward.”

You hum, leaning back into him. “For what? Needing help to do a basic thing?”

“For being vulnerable,” He drops his head to your shoulder, burying your face into the crook of your neck, “So proud of you, baby. You were so brave.”

Your stomach is doing backflips. “You don’t have to baby me.”

“M’ not babying you. You were brave. And I am proud of you.”

He wants to curl up in bed with you and keep watching t.v, but you insist on showering first. You’re gross and you just washed your sheets.

Feeling happy, you grab one of your nicer, cuter pairs of underwear, taking your time to lather your good smelling body-wash and enjoying the warm spray. Your enjoy the shower once you’re in it. It’s just getting in that’s hard.

When you get out of the shower, you notice that the oversized shirt you were going to wear was replaced with Leon’s sweatshirt. The one he spent all day in.

You smile to yourself, throwing the clothes on and rushing out to cuddle up in bed with Leon. The second you touch the bed he’s dragging you to him, face finding the free inch of space between your neck and the top of your sternum. He takes a deep breath, warm air fanning over the soft skin there.

“You smell so fucking good.”

“Mm,” You hum, already growing sleepy in his hold, “Your sweatshirt smells like you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s really good. And comfortable. I’m sleepy.”

He chuckles, pulling the blankets up over the both of you and planting a soft kiss to your forhead.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

You fall asleep surrounded by warmth and safety. It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

ˑ . . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁

[inotakumagf]

step on it!

✶ choso kamo x gn!reader

word count ✺ 1.7K

summary ✺ Choso helps you break in your newest pair of Doc Martens <3 based on this and this drawing <33

warning ✺ minors DNI! sub!choso, boot humping/grinding, reader loves being mean, good boy choso, brief choking (m receiving), lil bit of dacryphillia, reader is gn & there’s a line about ur strap but no gendered language. today is my birthday, so this is my birthday gift to myself :) reblogs & comments are very appreciated!

Choso has an extensive Doc Marten collection. Through your friendship and now your relationship with him, you’ve introduced him to a lot of different things. He tells you that he likes how human they make him feel, and you take that as encouragement to show him as many modern human inventions as possible. You’ve got him hooked on video games, iced matcha lattes, and even a little bit of drama television. Your most precious shared interest, however, is each of your Doc Marten collections. You have a humble collection, and you used to only buy a pair once a year as a birthday gift to yourself. 

But Choso has quickly changed that tradition. His excitement over the different styles and the thought of matching with you makes him so giddy; you can’t help but feel excited with him. You just hadn’t expected him to be so into it. He sure does love his platform boots, and he even likes to pick one out and place it at the foot of the bed before tucking in to sleep. It’s cute, but he has definitely fueled your unhealthy obsession with the brand. 

You drag Choso to sit next to you on the couch the moment you see that the new collection is live on the Doc Martens website.

“Cho! Look at these platforms, aren’t they so cute?”

Choso has his head tucked against your shoulder as you scroll over the product page. You zoom into the photo as you envision yourself wearing them. 

You tilt your head. “Hm, actually, I don’t know if I should get these ones. I’ll browse the other styles.” 

Choso lifts his head. “I like them.”

You pout and scroll down the page. “I don’t think they have them in your size, baby.”

“I mean for you. I think you should get them.”

You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend. “Really? But I’ve never had platforms this high before–”

“It looks really good.”

“And I don’t know if I like the leather they used–”

“It would feel so nice,” he sighs.

You laugh. “Well, I can’t feel the leather if it’s on the outside of my feet.”

Choso blushes and tucks his face into your neck. “I-I mean it’s more comfortable with this type of leather, because it’s flexible and it lets your feet breathe better.”

You stare at him, and he shrivels under your gaze. “I don’t think that’s a real thing.”

He pouts. “It is! The man at the store told me so. He informed me that he owns thirty pairs, so he must know what he’s talking about.”

“But is that why you want me to get them?”

He squirms at your question, and stutters out, “Of course!”

You shut your laptop and push it to the side. You don’t care about the new collection anymore, not when you have something so much more enticing in front of you. 

“Choso, honey. Wanna tell me what’s got your pretty little head all twisted up?”

“I-I don’t…” He stares at you with wide, doe-like eyes. He knows he’s been caught, but he tries to keep up the appearance of indifference. “I want you to get the shoes you like, sweetheart. That’s all.”

You run a sweet, gentle hand over his cheek, which is dusted with embarrassment. You lure him in with soft kisses on his jaw, his chin, and the corner of his lips. Choso’s eyes flutter shut and you grin at the way his eyebrows furrow on instinct. You get him all nice and comfortable, and then you tug your fingers through his hair until you grip one of the buns that he’d oh-so-carefully pinned. He whines at the sting, and at the way you tug his head back and away from your torturous mouth. 

You press your lips near his ear, nibbling on the cartilage before whispering, “Why do you care so much about my shoes, baby?”

“I-I don’t. I just–” 

You mark up his pale neck, watching intently as he sighs and arches into your touch. “C’mon. You’re my good boy, aren’t you? Gotta be honest with me. M’not gonna be mad at you.”

Choso stares at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Your kisses have definitely helped ease his embarrassment to make room for his horniness. He spreads his large hands over your stomach and runs them down your waist so that he can anchor himself to your hips. He squeezes, pupils dilating as you press into him. 

“I want…I want you to step on me,” he admits, pulling you flush against him with one strong arm wrapped around the small of your back. 

You laugh, cooing when Choso goes right back to being embarrassed. “Aw, honey, wait. Didn’t mean to laugh.”

“You think it’s stupid,” he pouts into your neck.

You lift his chin so that he has to look at you. “No, I think it’s hot. You want to help me break in my boots, is that it? You wanna grind on my shoes, baby? Fuck, you're so good, I know you’d look perfect on your knees for me.”

Choso whimpers at the picture you're painting. “Please. Just wanna be good for you.”

He grinds against your core, almost like he’s subconsciously trying to prove that he can hump your boot so well.

“I wouldn’t even need to fuck you, you’d just get off on that, wouldn't you? You'd let me be so mean, I know you can take it.”

He rolls his hips upwards, jerking against you desperately. You press your palm against the bulge in his sweatpants, feeling it twitch at your touch. His eyes roll back in pleasure, and he’s so lost in the feeling that you almost feel bad for pulling away and denying him his pleasure. 

He whines at the loss of your touch. You place your laptop back on your lap. “C’mon, Cho. You have to help me pick out a good pair, yeah?”

The boots arrive faster than you thought they would—thank you express shipping. You chose them because they made Choso blush the hardest. It might have something to do with the max platforms on them.

They dig a little bit at your heel, but that’s alright. That’s what Choso’s here for. He sits on the bed as you model them, spinning in a slow circle and pointing your toe out so he can see them better. He smiles up at you sweetly, and you pretend that you can’t see him blush. 

“You look so amazing, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You stand before him, grinning when he automatically wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. You drag your hands through his hair to loosen his buns, and to tug at them just how he likes.

“Thank you, baby,” you say, “but how ‘bout you get on your knees for me, yeah? I know you’ve been aching for it.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice as he immediately sinks to the ground, switching your positions so that you’re pressed up against the bed. Choso rests his cheek on your thigh, staring up at you with those irresistible eyes of his. He keeps his hands to himself, clenched on his strong thighs so that they don’t wander anywhere they shouldn’t. You reward his behavior with a deep kiss, bending your upper body to meet his lips in a searing kiss. You laugh when he has to strain his neck to kiss you properly.

Choso gasps when you pull back to let him breathe. He looks up at you as you brush your thumb over his wet lips, swirling his tongue around the digit desperately. It’s like he’s trying to convince you to let him hump your shoe. And who are you to deny him that? You lift your foot slowly and press it into his growing hard-on. The effect is immediate. Choso moans and tilts his head back, wrapping his hands around your leg and forcing you to press down harder. Usually, you’d punish him for touching you without permission, but he’s enjoying himself so much that you don’t have the heart to.

You tut. “Are you gonna be good for me, honey?”

The sweetness of the way you talk to him makes his head dizzy. “Yes! Yes, I’ll be good for you. Promise.”

He ruts his hips up against the sole of the platform, and it's like he’s chasing the pain. His desperation fuels the fire in your gut.

“Please,” he cries.

You grin, pressing harder against his bulge. “Please what?”

His thighs are spread wide, caging your leg in between them. He grinds up into the boot, but you can tell he’s getting frustrated. It’s not enough. “Need more, please.”

You oblige, pressing down harder and wrapping your hand around his throat to get him even more worked up. He tilts his head back, giving you a great view of his marked up neck. You get a rush of possessiveness, and you wonder if you can press down hard enough to leave an impression of the boot print behind. Whether or not it's possible doesn’t matter, you’ll just try your damn hardest. Choso appreciates the effort, moaning when you press your boot down even harder.

He cries at the intensity of pleasure and pain, overwhelmed because he can’t quite distinguish between the two. Tears streak down his cheeks, and you smear them messily when you squish his cheeks in your hand. He looks up at you with those wet, dumb eyes of his, and you just want to eat him whole. 

He pistons his hips up faster, and you’d be concerned if he wasn’t letting out the most delicious sounds. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You can tell the exact moment his orgasm washes over him, twitching his hips up involuntarily, and dropping his mouth open in pleasure. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he drops his head forward to kiss haphazardly along your leg in apology.

You pull your foot back slowly, revealing the wet spot in his sweatpants. He whimpers under your intense gaze.

“Sorry,” he rasps. “Didn’t mean to.”

You hum. “That’s okay.”

He watches you suspiciously, which you suppose is fair. Because you lift your opposite foot and press the boot against his softening dick, using his cum as a lubricant. He practically squeals, which is such a delectable contrast to his low voice.

“You promised you’d help me break in both my shoes, Choso. We’re not done yet.”

“I-I…can’t. S’too much,” he says, but still he wraps his arms around your leg and pulls you closer, overstimulation be damned. “Oh. Don’t stop, please.”

Choso really loves everything that you teach him. You might have to introduce him to your strap-on next time. 

[palajae]

bfb. (my best friend’s brother is the one for me!)

PAIRING... best friend’s brother!riki x reader | GENRE... dancer! au, romance, humor, fluff, a flirty riki and down bad reader | WC... 2.1k | inspired by best friend’s brother by victorious (if you couldn’t tell already lmao)

wrote this at 2am in celebration of 1000 posts wtf 

the first nishimura you met and befriended was actually sola. the first day you joined lead entertainment all those years ago, the bright and bubbly girl was the one who greeted you and showed you around. 

“oh, and this is my sister konon!” 

your eyes widen at the sight of the sweaty, yet still gorgeous girl coming out of the practice room. by the looks of it, you assumed she had just finished leading a class. 

immediately, the resemblance hit you. the nishimura girls were both beautiful and talented. 

konon tilts her head at you, guzzling down water. 

“so you’re the newbie.” 

you nod, “nice to meet you. i watched a bit of your class and you were incredible.”

“could say the same here.” when your eyes widen, a bit taken aback, she explains herself. 

“saw your first class earlier today. not bad, for a beginner. you could work on your facials, though.”

you raise an eyebrow, “is that just constructive criticism or an offer to teach me?” 

konon shrugs as sola giggles, “whatever you want it to be.” you both then share a smile. you instantly knew you two were going to get along well. 

for the next couple of weeks, you spent a lot of time with konon. not just dancing, but also bonding to the point you considered her your best friend. she taught you a lot more about the performance aspect of dancing, which you greatly appreciated. honestly, konon was mesmerizing both on and off the stage. 

“wanna sleepover?” konon asks after a particularly long session. “my parents probably won’t be back since they have to close up the studio, so you can come over to my place.” 

“wait a second, your parents own the company?!”

“oh y/n,” konon shakes her head sympathetically, “there’s a lot you don’t know.” 

and right she was. you had absolutely no idea that the nishimura girls had, in fact, another sibling. 

a brother. 

freshly showered, you gasp in awe while admiring the nishimura residence. it was clean with those sleek modern vibes, and not to mention filled with countless dancing awards that you assumed came from the girls. 

as konon leads you up the stairs, she tells you to wait outside her door. “it’s a bit messy…” 

you roll your eyes, telling her that you don’t mind, but she protests nonetheless. while waiting, you explore the hall. most of the room doors were closed, but a faint sound coming from one of the rooms catches your attention. 

it sounded like, someone yelling? they had a remarkably deep voice, like they were a guy-

“y/n!” konon hisses and you jump, turning around. “what are you doing? get in here!”

finally seeing her room distracts you, as you momentarily forget about the noise coming from down the hall. 

you had stayed up rather (very) late with konon, yapping the night away. not expecting to stay over, you didn’t bring anything. at some point, you begin to shiver. “it’s kinda cold,” you whine. 

in a sleepy daze, konon goes out of the room and retunes with a random hoodie.  

she throws it at your face, in which you grunt a thanks. 

“why is it so freaking huge,” you yawn while shoving it over your head. she mutters something random while plopping onto the bed, leaving the both of you to pass out contentedly. 

the next morning, you groan as you wake up. konon was still snoring away, so you decided to quietly go downstairs and grab a glass of water. 

the whole house still seemed quiet, so you assumed her parents and sister were still sleeping as well. they knew you stayed the night, right? 

carefully grabbing a glass, you pour yourself some water and gulp it down with a satisfied sigh. turning around, you’re about to head back up when you almost bump into a body. 

your eyes fly open in surprise as your water slightly spills over you and… him?

the first thought in your head is that—

crap, this guy is ridiculously handsome. and tall. 

you gape, pointing a finger at the stranger although you know it’s rude. 

“who are you?”

he squints back, “what are you doing in my house?” 

the situation you were currently in was so unexpected that you remain speechless for a moment. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about,“ you splutter. 

he crosses his arms, studying you from head to toe before he smirks. you swallow uncomfortably, feeling a little too warm. 

“konon invited me over!” you manage to spit out, mirroring his actions by crossing your arms too. 

“sure. i guess that means you’re allowed to steal other people’s clothes as well?” 

you tilt your head in confusion. “what do you mean?”

he only chuckles, making you feel even more flustered. “answer my question!”

he takes a step closer and you force yourself to stand your ground and not take one back. “which one?” 

his voice is so deep that you shiver. then it hits you—he must’ve been the one you heard yesterday night down the hall! 

“b-both,” you mumble while looking away. just as he opens his mouth, about to answer, you hear konon’s voice sleepily calling out your name. 

“you’re up already?” she yawns as she pads down the stairs. you furrow your eyebrows, glancing from the strangely familiar tall stranger to konon, then back to him, and finally back to her. 

your mouth drops agape. 

“don’t tell me-!” 

“oh, you didn’t know riki was my brother?”

you want to die of embarrassment. not only were you clueless about the fact that a nishimura riki did indeed exist, you were really done dirty by konon. 

how were you supposed to know that the hoodie you ‘borrowed’ actually belonged to aforementioned person? 

how did you not even know konon and sola had a brother? neither sister had ever brought him up before and you had never seen him around the company because oh, you would have remembered a face like that. 

your face burned, mortified, as you brought the washed hoodie back to konon. 

“could you return this to your…brother?”

“shouldn’t you do it yourself, considering you were the one who wore it?” she snickers as you complain endlessly.

“you gave it to me, so i thought it was yours!” you groan while rubbing a hand over your face in frustration. 

“don’t worry about it. riki is chill, especially since you guys are around the same age.” 

great. how were you going to face her unfortunately, really stupidly super cute brother?  

she tells you what room he’s practicing in, and you despise how your heart is pounding as you make your way over. 

since you hear music still playing, you decide to wait patiently outside for him to finish. you figure there was probably no harm in peeking through the windows while you waited. 

you were wrong. your mouth literally dries up at the sight in front of your eyes. 

life was unfair. not only was riki blessed with good looks, he was also an incredible dancer? obviously, you should’ve expected no less from the nishimuras. 

when the music stops, you take a deep breath and knock. to your surprise, the door almost immediately opens. 

the sight of a sweaty and breathless riki is almost too much for you to handle. 

“hi,” you say meekly. internally, you face palm. just being around him caused your brain to shut down.

“hey. enjoy the show?”

“what?” your head snaps up, flustered. 

riki laughs before opening the door and letting you in. “i was just joking.”

“oh… well, i wanted to give this back to you.”

he looks down at the bag held out to him. 

“it’s washed,” you add hastily, “thanks for letting me wear your hoodie without permission, i guess.”

“no problem. it looked better on you than me, anyway.”

oh no. your heart definitely skipped a beat. 

seeing your reaction, riki reaches over to ruffle your hair. 

“you’re cute.”

you? cute? riki? his smile? adorable? 

“y/n? are you alright? why did you come here?”

“huh? what?” you finally snap to your senses. 

you don’t even realize where you are until sola is waving a hand in front of your face. after riki’s words, you definitely spaced out. how did you even get here, about to enter the youth group’s class?

she watches you worriedly. “you were walking down the hall like a zombie. did something happen?”

your mouth opens, but you aren’t able to formulate a response. yes-but no, not really - you don’t even know yourself. 

instead, you choose to place your hands on her shoulders and sigh pitifully. “you nishimuras are going to be the death of me…”

after that day, every encounter with the menace that is nishimura riki only makes your life harder. 

much harder in the sense that you just want to shut him up with a kiss. his nonstop flirting made you wonder if he was born like this. i mean, everyone at the studio knew he was handsome. 

girls would whisper and flirt with him whenever he stepped into the studio. and yet, he rejected their advances and seemed disinterested. riki only acted crazy, well, in front of you. 

when you tried to bring it up discreetly to konon, she simply snorted. 

“riki’s used to the attention. it doesn’t phase him anymore. he’s like a little kid. he doesn’t care—i think he’s just not interested in anyone.” 

except, riki wasn’t like that around you. he was sweet, offering you water when no one else was around. he left snacks and silly notes in your dance locker. he would make funny faces and wink at you when his sisters weren’t looking.

it almost made you delusional. like maybe he… reciprocated your feelings? 

you hated keeping all your feelings suppressed, all behind konon’s back. still, you always asked to come over to her house when you knew riki was there. 

you couldn’t get him out of your mind. your best friend, konon’s, brother. if only they weren’t related. then nishimura riki would be the one for you. 

“i’m gonna go use the restroom.”

konon hums as you leave to go out into the hall with purposefully loud steps. you hold your breath, praying that you’ll ‘run into’ riki somehow. you knew exactly which room was his, so you could only hope he came out at the exact moment you did. 

he doesn’t. deflated, you quietly tip toe over to his room, placing an ear to the door. 

you listen, hoping to hear some noise. it’s awfully quiet, maybe he’s not in his room-

whoosh! 

the door swings open and suddenly, you gasp as you’re dragged in. riki sneakily closes the door as you’re stunned by the latest sequence of events, almost jumping out of your skin.  

how in the world did you end up in riki’s room, with him, 

alone?

“riki-“

he shushes you by pushing his finger to your lips. goosebumps appear on your arm, simply by his touch. you didn’t even realize that his other hand was still holding onto yours. 

“eavesdropping, were you?” 

he renders you speechless. you really didn’t have an excuse… 

he grins, “or were you just hoping to bump into me?”

you mumble something random, embarrassed. 

“don’t worry, i was hoping to get you alone too.” 

your eyes flick up to him, before you sigh and pull your arm out of his warm grasp. “do you really wanna know why? it’s because i can’t keep wondering.”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean this,” you gesture outwards, “i can’t keep wondering about this-us- because…”

“because?” he gazes at you with adoration evident. you squint. 

oh, he knows. at that point, you realize he‘s known. riki has known for a long time, maybe even since the beginning. 

at this point, it’s too late. nothing else to do but swallow your pride. you stand up straight, biting your lips.  

“is it wrong for me to say that, i like you? like, a lot?” 

riki says nothing for a moment, which only serves to makes you panic. if you just made a huge mistake and misread all of his signals-

“honestly, i always liked you.”

your breath hitches. he shrugs, looking almost shy himself for the first time in front of you. 

“i noticed you on your first day. i just didn’t know you grew that close to my sister.” 

suddenly, riki leans in as if he’s about to kiss you. you quickly stop him by holding onto his broad shoulders. 

you swallow, searching his eyes. 

“but what about konon?”

he seems annoyed at the mention of his sister. “what about her?”

“you’re my best friend’s brother!”

riki simply smiles cheekily while leaning in, “she doesn’t have to know.” 

when your lips meet, you can’t help but smile. it felt so right, wrapping your arms around his neck as he picked you up by your waist. 

it seems like your best friend’s brother really was the one for you. 

a/n ▸ you know i had to for my 1000th post since riki is so bfb coded <333  

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@kflixnet

[rainydayathogwarts]

can i pleaseeee request something for harry potter and spring!! i barely see anyone write for himmmm

What boyfriend? - Harry Potter

ʀᴀɪɴʏᴅᴀʏᴀᴛʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ' 3ᴋ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ! summary: when you are bed ridden due to your period, Madame Pomfrey comes to check in on you and play match-maker. wc: 0.6k+ this isn't so harry focused, but i was writing this anyway when i saw this request, so enjoy!

A knock on your door had you groaning, turning over in your bed, a slick layer of sweat coating your skin. You mumbled something incoherent, curling into your stomach, hoping to ease your cramps away. Your door opened on its own, so you assumed it would just be Pansy since you had locked it behind you. It wasn’t. Madame Pomfrey’s voice wrung out in the room, a concerned yet understanding tone in her voice when she said “Oh darling” at the sight of your pained state.

You pushed yourself up on your bed so you sat up straight, a slightly horrified look on your face at the realisation that a member of staff was seeing you in your worst state possible. “Professor McGonagall asked me to check on you. Said your dorm-mate told her you weren’t feeling well.” You nodded, fixing the bun atop your head just to busy yourself. “I’m just, uh, I’ve got my period.” Madame Pomfrey nodded along, pulling things out of her bag, so you continued speaking to fill the empty silence. “I took a potion last night to help with the pain today. But I couldn’t sleep and the potion didn’t seem to work. And I feel nauseous.”

Madame Pomfrey pulled out a temperature checking sticker, sticking it to your forehead and checking for a fever. “Can I give you something to help with the pain? Did you have any tea to drink?” You nodded, then furrowed your eyebrows “Uh, I didn’t drink tea. It’s too hot.” Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up. You were wearing a jumper and joggers, fluffy socks, and now you were complaining about the heat? “If I take my jumper off I’ll be too cold.” You defended, letting the older woman remove the sticker from your forehead.

“Right, you don’t have a fever. I’ll absence you from lessons today and tomorrow, but if you feel better tomorrow, by all means go to class.” You nodded, watching closely as she poured you a portion of painkilling potion. “Your boyfriend asked about you.” She added, to which you shot her a confused look. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Madame Pomfrey.” She pulled a face of surprise, though it wasn’t very convincing. “Well Mr. Potter came-” “-And it’s especially not Potter!” You screeched, the vial halfway to your lips. You apologised when the healer shot you an annoyed look, looking down at your lap. The last thing you needed right now was for people to ruin your chances with Harry by spreading rumours of you already dating. “Mr. Potter came running up to me when he saw me approach the common room. Asked if I was coming to see you.”

You chugged the potion, wincing slightly at the foul taste before your eyes widened. “Wait he came to the common room?” Madame Pomfrey hummed, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Was waiting right out the entrance when I was coming in. He tried to sneak past me but I told him students couldn’t come in without a password.” And with that, the healer packed her things and left your dorm, leaving you with hot cheeks and a fluttering heart.

What she didn’t tell you was that when Harry had approached her, she had asked him “Going to see your girlfriend?” Harry had huffed, putting his hands on his hips “I’m working on it Madame Pomfrey. If only you could let me pass through with you?” But the woman had shut down his attempt. Surely, she had to give you a heads up if your crush was trying to come and see you. Especially if you’ve been rotting in bed all day and crying about your cramps.

At least when Pansy came back from lessons, finding Harry outside the common room, she had smirked and made fun of how smitten he was with you. But unlike Madame Pomfrey, she let him sneak inside, telling him exactly which dorm you were in. And when a knock came at your door, and you were fresh out of the shower, a white robe wrapped around your wet skin, you weren’t exactly surprised to find Harry standing at your door.

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @rory-cakes

[elssero]

having thoughts about stoner sero x secret stoner reader

h.sero

♰ slightly suggestive, lots of talk about weed. i wrote this while stoned :3 i love weed and seros my favourite so that means he loves weed too!!

your smoking a blunt on your dorm balcony the first time your caught. you hear movements to your right and your head snaps towards the noise- it’s sero, out on his balcony sniffing around like a fucking idiot. he turns around and his eyes lock directly with yous, blunt in your mouth as you take a long draw. his mouth forms a small circle as he watches you inhale and exhale- perfectly, making it incredibly clear to sero that this is definitely not your first time smoking. not even close.

he watches you closely for a second- brows furrowing as if trying to crack some kind of code. you’ve never spoken to sero before, at least not properly, it’s not that you don’t get along with the boy- not at all. he just always seems to be surrounded by a crowd in which you opt out of being around.

you don’t have an actual problem with his friends- you can tell their great people, you just prefer the company of your own- quieter friends.

despite only being around half way through the smoke you decide your done, not quite ready to let him watch u finish the blunt, you let it go and float it quickly over to sero, he’s only a single dorm to your right so it’s a pretty easy job, just incase- you float your lighter over with it and you were right to do so, the blunts no longer lit when it reaches him, he grabs the smoke quickly, as well as your light that follows and presses on the gas, you watch as the glow from the light shines on his face- highlighting his features. he holds the lighter up to you and you take this as a sign of him being done with it, pulling it back over to you.

you don’t stay out on your balcony for long after that, instead opting to make your way back inside- leaving a very confused and red faced sero outside.

you don’t talk about that night- at least not for awhile. instead he begins smiling at you in class, giving you a little wave as he walks into the class and walks straight towards his friends. you keep silent- liking it better that way in the mornings as you don’t quite have the energy to converse with people so early.

you should probably be stressing that sero knows about your little habit but your not. if anything he was probably the best person in the class to know- seeing as he’s very open about his own interest in substances.

you know he won’t judge you- you doubt anyone in the class really would, that doesn’t stop you from wanting to keep it your little secret though- you just hope sero wont open his mouth.

the cycle continues- every few nights you head outside, smoke half a blunt before floating it over too sero for him to finish- it’s stupid. you two haven’t really ever had a full conversation in your years at UA but still, you find yourself looking toward to your late nights.

your in bed tonight. completely out of weed for the week before you can find time to pick some up at the weekend, your new relationship with sero causing a serious dent how long your stuff would normally last you.

struggling to sleep you take out your phone, you make a plan to open up instagram before a message catches your attention.

sero: come outside.

it’s the first time he’s ever messaged you. he must’ve gotten your number from the class chat you’d been added too last year by uraraka. you don’t hesitate getting up, not even bothering to change out of your arguably showy nightwear. you feel it when the cold hair hits your exposed thighs and you immediately wish you had at least such a proper pair of pants on.

he’s already outside when you step out, stood lazily leaning against the barristers of his balcony- he looks at you, eyes trailing your body and you watch as they widen slightly when he reaches your lower half.

he brings his eyes back up to meet yours and he beckons you over. your confused for a second. you don’t have a blunt to give him? until he mouths back no you. he’s pointing at you before again gesturing behind him. get over here.

you don’t argue- too sleepy to fully argue the pros and cons as your now floating over to his dorm balcony- at night- alone.

your face to face with him when you get a look at what he’s holding in his other hand- a blunt. he doesn’t say anything as he gives it to you, placing it between your lips and he holds lighter up to light it- you inhale.

you ignore the fact that the situation you’ve found yourself in is extremely inappropriate- you can’t even begin to imagine the trouble you would be in if your caught- blunt in your mouth and with a boy alone at night.

he begins to speak to you- the first real conversation you’ve ever had with the black haired boy.

“can’t believe i didn’t know you smoked” he’s smiling- you can’t quite tell if the tone of his voice is that of surprise or teasing.

“you never asked.” it’s a short reply, much like the ones you usually give your classmates. it’s not like you don’t enjoy their company, you just enjoy the quiet more.

“you never really gave me the chance.” you decide not to respond. instead opting to take another long draw of his weed before taking it from your mouth and handing it back to him.

you thank him politely, placing a hand on the banister as you prepare to levitate yourself back to your dorm.

“you should smoke with us sometime!” it’s rushed- you can tell by the increased volume of his voice when he speaks now. you don’t really understand why? you’ve never really been close before but the offer of free weed is one you might need to take him up on.

“i’ll think about it.” you give him a small smile as you depart from his balcony. only turning back to look at him for a second before you open your own dorm door. he hasn’t moved an inch from where you left him and you decide you think he’s kinda cute like that. all frozen up and a little flustered.

you close your dorm room behind you meaning you don’t see the little cheer he does when he’s sure your finally gone. bumping his fist in victory as he finishes his smoke.

he’s finally found a way to wriggle into your life and he couldn’t be more excited.

[violetwifey]

would you spare our poor souls with a pt2 of roommate!vi? 🥺🙏🏻

Eyes Wide Open, Heart Still Sleeping {part two}

Welcome back strawberrieeeeeeeeeees 🍓<3 I hope y'all are doing well! Quite a few asked for a part 2 so I decided to make it (even though I intended for it to be a oneshot 🤭) I pray that I've wrote this part up to your standards. Anyways, enjoy! Also, thank you soooo much for the amount of love my very first story got. I'm genuinely surprised and grateful, always <3

Summary: A night of laughter, sibling squabbles, and unexpected flirtation turns into something deeper when a thunderstorm traps two friends together. As they share a bed and confront their feelings, the walls they've built up start to crumble. With the storm raging outside, Vi must face her fears of rejection, and the reader discovers that maybe they've both been feeling the same way all along.

𝑪𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆

The car ride was silent.

Not the comfortable kind you both shared during late-night study sessions or when rain poured outside, and you decided to stay in, each doing your own thing—Vi with her book, you scrolling through social media.

No, this was the kind of silence that made your skin itch. The kind that made you want to clear your throat just to break it. Anything but this.

Vi slowed to a stop at a red light, her fingers tapping absentmindedly on the wheel. “You okay?” she asked, finally cutting through the tension.

“Huh? Yeah… why?” The question caught you off guard. You had been lost in thought, picking apart the way she had been acting earlier. But now, she was looking at you like you were the one acting strange.

“It’s just… not like you to be this quiet. Every second you’re awake, there’s something coming out of that smart mouth of yours—ow!”

She jerked away, rubbing the spot where you’d swatted her arm.

“Oh, stop being dramatic. It was barely a caress,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and turning to stare out the window.

You heard her scoff under her breath, but you didn’t dignify it with a response. She deserved that one.

By the time you reached the parking lot outside Ekko and Jinx’s place, the silence had settled into something less heavy but still lingering. Vi walked beside you, a gift in one hand, the other swinging loosely at her side.

Then you felt it.

A soft, lingering touch against the back of your hand.

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay composed, resisting the urge to jerk away—not out of discomfort, but because of the way your heart stuttered in your chest.

You glanced at her, trying to be subtle. Her expression was unreadable, her gaze forward, posture relaxed. No sign of hesitation. No flicker of embarrassment. If she was caught, she didn’t show it.

So you let it slide.

For now.

When you reached the door, Jinx swung it open, her signature toothy grin already in place.

“There you two are! Took you long enough.” She pulled her sister into a hug, pressing a playful kiss to her cheek before turning to you. “Hey there, Yapster.”

You scoffed, hugging her back. “I don’t yap! Why does everyone keep saying that today?” You pulled away, eyes bouncing between the two sisters.

“Because you do, smartass,” Vi quipped.

You rolled your eyes, missing the knowing look Jinx shot between the two of you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll take that,” Jinx said, prying the gift from Vi’s hand. “Now, come meet everyone. You’re the last ones to get here.”

“Oh, I wonder whose fault that is,” Vi teased, nudging your side.

You giggled, shaking your head, and Vi’s soft smile lingered a little longer than usual.

The party was alive with laughter, music, and the occasional crash of something breaking in the distance—most likely Jinx’s doing. You had long since lost track of time, leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, watching as Vi and Jinx got into yet another sibling squabble.

“I swear, you always have to pick a fight over something,” Vi huffed, crossing her arms.

Jinx smirked, standing on the coffee table with an energy drink in one hand. “Me? Oh, no, big sis. I just happen to point out how slow you are in beer pong, and suddenly it’s a fight?”

Vi scoffed. “I’m not slow.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Jinx hopped down, jabbing a finger into Vi’s abs. “All these muscles, and yet you cry over a little loss? Face it, Ms Grumpy, I’m the real champ here.”

Vi raised a brow. “You blew up a toaster last week.”

Ekko groaned, stepping between them before Jinx could lunge. “Alright, break it up, you two. Let’s keep it a party, not a wrestling match.”

Jinx threw her hands up dramatically. “Fine! Vi just loves to kill my fun.”

Vi rolled her eyes, but you didn’t miss the small smile tugging at her lips as Jinx bounced away.

You found yourself watching Vi, studying the way she ran a hand through her hair, muttering to herself. She had that presence—effortlessly cool, with a hint of roughness around the edges. Even when she was bickering with Jinx, even when she was rolling her eyes, there was this undeniable warmth beneath it all.

Your little moment of admiration was cut short when someone slid up beside you.

"Didn’t think I’d see someone as stunning as you at one of Ekko’s chaotic get-togethers," a voice drawled.

You turned, blinking up at a guy you vaguely recognized—one of Ekko’s friends. He had an easy smirk, the kind that suggested he thought he was far more charming than he actually was.

"Uh, thanks?" You chuckled, unsure of what else to say. Compliments weren’t exactly rare, but the way he was leaning in, all confident and self-assured, made something in you stiffen.

"You here with someone?" he asked, tilting his head, eyes scanning you in a way that felt more assessing than admiring.

"Yeah, with Vi—"

"Ah," he cut in smoothly. "But Vi’s not your date, right?"

Your lips parted slightly, caught off guard. "I mean, no, but—"

"So you're single." He grinned, like he’d won some kind of jackpot. "Good to know."

You let out a small, awkward laugh, shifting slightly in your seat. "I don’t think that’s really—"

"Here," he grabbed a drink from the table behind him, holding it out to you. "Let me at least get you another drink."

Before you could respond, a familiar arm draped over your shoulder, the weight grounding you instantly.

"Hey," Vi's voice was casual, but there was a distinct edge to it. She gave the guy a tight-lipped smile that was anything but friendly. "Didn’t know Ekko started letting just anyone into these parties."

Ekko’s friend sat up slightly, clearly clocking the tension but playing it off. "Vi, right? Didn’t mean to step on your toes." His gaze flickered between you and her. "Didn’t realize there were toes to step on."

Vi let out a dry chuckle, her fingers idly drumming against your shoulder—calm, controlled, but you could feel the restrained energy beneath. "Oh, there are toes," she said easily. Then she leaned forward just a little, lowering her voice just for him. "And if you don’t back off, they might just land somewhere you won’t like."

The guy raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing. "Alright, alright, no need to get all territorial." He shot you one last glance before standing. "Nice meeting you."

You barely had a second to react before Vi turned her head slightly, eyes flicking to yours. "You good?"

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and grinned. "Damn, Vi, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous."

Vi scoffed, finally removing her arm—but not before giving your shoulder a light squeeze. "Pfft. Please." She grabbed a drink from the table and took a sip. "I just hate watching people embarrass themselves."

You hummed knowingly. "Right."

She rolled her eyes, but the tips of her ears? Bright red.

After that, the party picked up again, and you found yourself swept into a mix of games, drinks, and laughter. Vi had eased up, though she still sent a glance or two your way every now and then. Jinx had gotten into an intense arm-wrestling match with Ekko, which ended in them both falling off their chairs.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

But as the night wound down, people started leaving one by one, until eventually, it was just you, Vi, Jinx, and Ekko left.

And then the thunderstorm hit.

“Oh, great,” Jinx sighed, peering outside. “Storm’s rolling in fast.”

Ekko checked his phone. “Yeah, roads are flooding. You guys should just crash here.”

Jinx pointed at you and Vi. “Guest room’s free. You two can share.”

Vi choked. “What?”

“You’ve slept in worse conditions before,” Jinx pointed out. “Don’t be a baby.”

Vi grumbled something under her breath, but she didn’t argue.

The storm raged outside, thunder rolling through the sky as rain pounded against the windows. The power had flickered once, twice, before finally giving out, plunging the house into a dim glow from the emergency lanterns. Jinx, ever the chaotic spirit, had laughed it off before disappearing upstairs with Ekko, leaving you and Vi in the guest room.

You pulled out one of Jinx’s oversized shirts from the dresser, turning away from Vi as you peeled off your dress. A small part of you—okay, maybe not so small—was aware of her standing there, trying so hard not to look.

"Jinx seriously has the worst taste," you muttered, examining the faded, paint-stained shirt before slipping it on.

A beat of silence.

Then, Vi’s voice, strained and just a little too tight: "You’re doing that on purpose."

You turned to her, putting on a show with your doe eyes. "Doing what?"

Vi’s jaw tightened. She looked away, rubbing the back of her neck. "Never mind," she grumbled.

You laughed softly, sliding under the covers. "Well, I’d offer to let you sleep on the floor, but I doubt your ego could handle it."

Vi scoffed, kicking off her boots. "My ego is just fine, thanks." She hesitated for half a second before climbing in beside you, keeping to her side of the bed like there was some kind of invisible barrier between you.

The room settled into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of rain against the windows. For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then, quietly, you teased, "You got awfully worked up earlier when that guy was flirting with me."

Vi groaned. "Oh, don’t start."

"Why not?" You turned your head to look at her, catching the way her fingers twitched against the blanket. "It was cute."

Vi huffed out a laugh. "I am not cute."

"Debatable."

A pause. Then, softer, you asked, "Why did it bother you so much?"

Vi exhaled slowly. "Because…" She hesitated. You could practically see the way she was debating with herself, trying to decide if she should say it.

"Because what?" you prompted gently.

Vi turned onto her side, facing you. In the dim glow of the lantern, her eyes were softer than usual—unguarded in a way that made your heart stutter.

"Because it’s you," she admitted, voice low. "And I—" She stopped, shook her head. "I just... I don’t want to lose what we have. I don’t want to mess this up by saying something stupid."

Your breath caught in your throat.

"Vi," you whispered.

She laughed, but it was quiet, almost nervous. "I know. It’s dumb."

"It’s not." You shifted closer, reaching for her hand under the blankets. "It’s really not."

Vi’s fingers curled around yours instinctively, like they belonged there. Like she’d been waiting for this.

"You really have a way of getting under my skin," she muttered.

You grinned. "I try."

She rolled her eyes, but her grip on your hand tightened. "I— I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should."

You felt warmth bloom in your chest. "Good."

Vi blinked. "Good?"

"Yeah," you murmured, squeezing her hand. "Because I like you too, dumbass."

For the first time that night, Vi was speechless. Then, with a huff of laughter, she pulled you closer, pressing her forehead against yours. "You’re gonna be the death of me."

You smiled, closing your eyes. "Nah. I’ll be the reason you live."

And as the storm raged outside, Vi held you just a little tighter, like she finally believed it.

𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔲𝔰 𝔖𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔢:

You felt a soft thud against your back, jerking your body forward. "Vi, what the hell!?" you yelped, spinning around to see her standing there, grinning like a mischievous child with a pillow clutched to her chest.

"C'mon, princess," she teased, raising an eyebrow. "How long are you gonna glue your cute little ass to this bed? Take a break, or you're gonna turn into a stressball. I can already see you balding from the pressure."

You blinked, incredulous. "I’m not balding!"

She waved her hand dismissively, stepping closer and tapping the pillow against your arm like she was ready to declare war. "You look like you could use a distraction." Before you could react, she swung the pillow at your head, knocking your books out of place.

"Violet!" you squealed, jumping out of the bed to avoid the next blow. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

With a loud, playful laugh, she swung again, catching you on the shoulder this time. You couldn’t help but laugh yourself, adrenaline kicking in as you realized you were in the middle of a full-on pillow fight.

You snatched the pillow off the bed and swung it back at her, narrowly missing her face. "You asked for it," you warned, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Vi's eyes lit up, and suddenly she was charging at you like a wild animal, swinging her pillow in all directions. "Oh, I did, huh? You’re gonna regret that, princess." She tackled you back into the bed with a cushion to your stomach, laughing all the while.

You shrieked, trying to wriggle away from her grasp, but she was quicker. The two of you were in full chaos mode now, knocking pillows and papers everywhere as you both fought for dominance.

"Come on, admit it!" Vi teased, tapping you with the pillow like a drum. "You needed a break!"

"Oh, I did," you gasped between giggles, managing to yank the pillow out of her hands. "But not like this!"

You leapt to your feet, holding your pillow up defensively, but Vi wasn’t having it. She grabbed a second pillow from the bed and swung both at you, knocking you off balance. "Gotcha now!" she grinned, her eyes gleaming with victory.

The two of you stumbled back and forth, laughter echoing around the room, until you finally collapsed on the bed, breathless. Vi joined you moments later, dropping her pillow to the floor with a satisfied grin.

"Okay, okay," you said, catching your breath. "You win. You’re insane."

Vi rolled her eyes, flopping back onto the bed beside you. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But you needed to relax, and now look at you—smiling like a doofus."

You gave her a mock glare, but there was no stopping the smile that tugged at your lips. "Fine. I admit it. You’re right."

Vi turned her body to face you. "Good. See? Wasn't so bad, was it?"

You nudged her with your elbow, unable to hold back the laughter. "You're ridiculous," you said, still catching your breath.

But in that moment, with the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the windows and Vi's laugh filling the room, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

"Yeah," she said, a hand coming up to move strands of hair away from your face gently. "But you love me for it." You didn’t even have to answer.

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Everybody’s on the Call Line (Jason todd x gn!reader)

Humor, fluff, established relationship. whole batfam gets involved. Reader is a hacker

This happened because I read the latest coffee shop au from @jjenthusee (and you should too!) and I remembered that I can also write cute fluff. So here this fic is, straight from my drafts where it’s been languishing for months. Anyway.

Swearing, as always. No use of y/n. I don’t know how long this is

———

Jason eases himself carefully onto the fire escape, metal creaking beneath his boots. He stifles a groan. He’s taking a risk sneaking into your apartment like this, he knows he is. If you wake up and see Red Hood snooping around outside your window, you’ll probably call the cops. But he’s tired as all hell, patrol was long and stupid, and your apartment was closer. Jason will just slide in while you’re sleeping, stow his gear where you won’t find it, and collapse into your bed. In the morning, he’ll just say he let himself in with the spare key you gave him. Easy. All he has to do is disable the window alarm he’d gotten for you, and then he’s home free.

The alarm trips, and Jason moves to silence it but then realized it doesn’t matter, you’re still up, working at your computer.

He freezes as you glance over your shoulder, then turn around to face him. He still has his gear on. Shit.

“Uh, hi,” you offer, looking at him with a curious glance as he races to figure out an excuse. “I don’t think we’ve met before?”

This throws him for a loop. You’re reacting very well to a vigilante crawling through your window at 2:30 in the fucking morning. But you’ve given him an opening, and he’s going to take it.

“No,” he says shortly, wincing behind the helmet. He’s never spoken to you like this and instantly hates the tone he’s using, but he’s got a persona to keep up. Or something.

You nod, seemingly unfazed. “No worries. Do you work with Red Robin?”

What? Why are you asking about Tim? Do you have some secret Red Robin crush that he’s going to have to push Tim off a building for?

Dumbfounded, Jason answers, “Uh, sometimes?”

You nod again. “Do you think you could give something to him for me?”

What the shit is happening right now?

As if to help tip Jason’s world off its axis, you’re interrupted by a tap at the window. Jason looks to see Red Robin crouched on your fire escape. You wave him inside.

“Hey, Escher,” Tim says. “Hood.” Jason has no idea what the fuck is going on.

“I’ve got the script,” you say, holding out a flash drive to him, but Tim shakes his head. “No good. They updated the security.”

“Well, shit.” You turn and dump the USB stick into a glass of water on your desk. “It’s a paperweight now. Only took me five hours to figure out.”

“I know,” Tim says, clearly frustrated. “They keep outmaneuvering us.”

Wait, wait. Jason’s still three steps behind you. “Escher?” he demands.

Both you and Tim turn to look at him, frowning. “Like, M.C. Escher? But, spelled ‘emcee,’” you say, as if that explains anything. “It’s my screen name.”

“You two know each other?”

“Yeah, we work together.” Tim raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t know that?”

Jason shakes his head, and Tim looks at you for a flash of a moment before turning back to Jason. “Sorry,” he mouths, shrugging. Jason waves him off. He’ll deal with that later.

Tim turns back to your computer screen, but your eyes stay on Jason, narrowing. “What does it matter if we work together? Do I know you from somewhere?”

Shit. You were always too sharp for your own good. Jason’s tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. “Uhh…”

You fold your arms over your chest. Behind you, out of your field of vision, Tim grins at Jason, delighted. Asshole.

“We don’t normally work with civilians,” Jason says, fishing for an excuse.

You sniff, rolling your eyes. “And yet, here you are. Which, the way, you haven’t explained. What are you doing in my bedroom?”

Fair. What is he doing in your bedroom? Would it freak you out if he said he was a burglar? Too late for that now.

“I told him to meet me here,” Tim says, pulling Jason’s ass out of the fire. “Sorry I didn’t tell you first.”

You shrug. “S’okay,” you say, spinning back around in your desk chair to face the screen.

Over your shoulder, Tim mouths, “you owe me.” Jason gives him the finger.

“Do you have a safe copy of the new security system?” you ask, looking at Tim intently.

He shakes his head. “Not yet, Oracle is working on duplicating it.”

You slump down in your chair. “Drat. I hate waiting.”

“Yeah,” Tim sits on the floor next to your bed, knees to his chest. “She said it’d be ready in a few hours.”

“Balls.” You fidget with a pen on your desk.

“Hold on. How did you start working with Red over here?” Jason asks. He knows you work in tech, that you’re a programmer, but he didn’t realize you were building code for fucking Batman.

Tim laughs. “I found them solving random problems on a Swedish forum.”

Jason blinks. Okay.

“Well, yeah. You found me there. Oracle found me hacking your comm links,” you grin, pleased with yourself.

Holy shit. “You got into the comm links?”

“Yeah,” you nod, satisfied. “I’ve done it twice now,” you add smugly.

“Don’t tell B,” Tim warns. “He doesn’t know. Oracle said she wouldn’t tell.”

Wow. You must be the real deal. He wonders if he can get you to fuck with Bruce’s plans, just to be a shit. "How long have you been working for the Caped Crusader, then?"

"I don't work for Batman," you say primly, as Tim sighs. "I help him out when you guys can't get your shit together."

Jason snickers under his breath. "Sore subject, huh?"

"They don’t like B," Tim confirms from the floor. "If you did it would make everything easier," he grumbles.

"It's stupid," you insist. "Come on, how is this a viable solution to any long-term problem?"

Jason laughs outright as Tim sputters. "He's a detective! He detects!"

"Then why does he have to dress up like that?" you point out. “You can be a detective in normal clothes, you know.”

"He needs armor, he keeps getting shot at!"

"Explain the cape, then," you shoot back. "Justify that monstrosity."

"It's fucking idiotic," Jason adds, piling on gleefully. "It'd be different if he could fly, but he just hops around."

Tim gasps, affronted, while you crack up in your chair. "Thank you. I mean, look at yourself, Red. You're sitting on my bedroom floor in a goddamn cape."

"It looks cool," Tim says defensively.

"No," you counter, "that looks cool." You point your finger in Jason's direction, and he feels his face heat up.

"Oh, come on," Tim scoffs. "You think his costume is cool?"

"Uh, yeah," you say, eyes taking Jason in as you nod. "Very cool. Very hot."

"Oh my god," Tim mutters. "It's tactically stupid. Why are his forearms exposed?"

"So I can see how muscley they are." You stare at them, eyes wide. Jason coughs awkwardly, and your eyes flit back up. "Sorry," you say, not sounding sorry at all. "I like leather."

"Of course you like his costume," Tim mutters under his breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you shoot at him, and Tim flusters. "Why do you care if I don't like your costume?"

"Yeah," Jason adds, letting some menace fall into his voice. "Why do you care if they don’t like your costume?"

"I didn't—I wasn't trying to—"

"I have a boyfriend," you interrupt, looking at Tim scornfully.

"They have a boyfriend," Jason parrots, grinning behind the helmet.

"Oh my god. I know you have a boyfriend. Relax," Tim pacifies you. "Relax," he adds, nodding at Jason. Jason grunts.

Before you can argue further, there’s another tap at your window, and Cass slips softly into the room. You light up. “Hello, my love!” you greet her excitedly. Cass raps you on the top of your head, and you beam up at her. Your hands twitch toward her before you stop yourself, folding them in your lap. Cass turns to Jason, placing her hand carefully on his arm. He bumps against her, waiting until she pushes back lightly. She then moves onto Tim, tugging gently on a lock of his hair, before depositing a flash drive on the desk. You snatch it up eagerly.

From Oracle, Cass signs.

“It’s O’s duplicate!” Tim plucks it from your fingers, driving it into your desktop.

“Be nice to her,” you warn, running a hand over your computer as the file loads. Strings of code write themselves across your screen. Jason moves forward to get a better look at you. He can’t help it, he wants to see you in action. Your face is scrunched up, tongue between your teeth as your eyes flash back and forth, following the cursor. “It’s incomplete.” You squint at Tim. “What gives?”

Tim tsks. “I don’t know. Let me get Oracle.” He puts a hand to his ear. “Oracle, come in.”

Barbara’s voice answers in Jason’s ear. “Here. I know, I know, it’s not all there,” she says, annoyed. “Let Escher know that I had to reverse engineer it from what we found.”

“She says she has to reverse engineer it,” Tim repeats.

You drum your fingers on the desk. “Okay, what else does she know?”

“What else do you—”

“Hold on, this is stupid,” you interrupt. “Can you, like, put her on speaker? Actually,” you click over to another screen, enter a command. “You’re broadcasting live, O.” Jason hears Barbara’s sigh through the speakers of your computer. “That’s three times,” you add smugly.

Jason let’s out a low whistle. Damn. You’re really good at this.

“We've got to stop meeting like this, Escher.” Barbara almost sounds amused. “How did you get in this time?”

“Hiya, babe.” You click back to your project. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out. I don’t want you closing your back door.”

Barbara chuckles. “Red and I will shut you out.”

“But for how long? I’m too slippery, baby.” Jason almost blushes underneath his helmet. It always trips him up when you talk like this.

“I had to reverse engineer the code from what it spit out when I tried to get in this time,” Barbara explains. “Can you fill in the gaps?”

“Some of them.” You type quickly, deleting code as you get error messages and retyping just as fast.

“Wait, here…” Tim points to something on the screen.

“Yeah, okay,” you back up to where he’s pointing and add something.

“There’s something about the updated security,” Barbara adds. “I think there’s a pattern somewhere.”

“Where?” you demand.

“I don’t know. Gut feeling. But I think I’m right.”

“Do you think there’s something generating new code?” Tim asks. “Like, a program that’s spitting out new security?”

“Oh.” Your fingers still on the keys, face relaxing. “Yeah. Good call, Red.” You scan the code again, scrolling back to the top. “Okay. This changes things.” You start from the beginning, erasing whole sections of Barbara’s work and typing out new code. “Well, shit,” you laugh under your breath. “This is some sexy-ass code we’re looking at.”

“You can fill in the blanks?” Jason asks.

You glance up at him. “Of course I can. I wrote it.”

“What?” Tim shouts. “This is you?”

“It’s me,” you confirm. “Guilty.” A small smile plays around your lips. “Sorry.” Cass steps forward, pinching your ear until you yelp.

“Fuck, Escher.” Tim rubs the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t know you were a traitor.”

“Chill, bird brain,” you say defensively, leaning out of Cass’ reach. “This was from, like, five years ago. I needed some cash.”

“You could be on B’s payroll,” Tim offers.

You snort as Barbara huffs a laugh over the comm line. “Fat chance, I’ve been trying to convince them for months.”

“I’m not a fucking lapdog. I play by my own rules,” you insist.

“Yeah?” Jason can’t help but push you. “And what rules are those?”

You cock an eye at him warily. “The rule of not tying my kite to some lunatic.”

Jason nods. Can’t argue with that one.

“Anyway,” you turn back to the computer. “Because I wrote it, I can build you the malware.”

“To get past the security or to neutralize the program spitting out new code?” Barbara asks over the line.

“Dealer’s choice,” you say, then stick your tongue between your teeth as you squint at the screen. “I can make both happen.”

The comm crackles in Jason’s ear. “Oracle, come in,” Bruce barks.

Tim whips his head toward you with a crack. “Nothing from you now, Escher,” Barbara warns. “I’m patching him through.”

You grin, eagerly pretending to zip your lips.

“Here,” Barbara answers.

“I heard from one of my informants,” Bruce’s monotone growl fills the room. Jason catches you roll your eyes and almost bursts out laughing. “They’re going to get into the controls for Blackgate prison.”

“This is Black Mask?” Barbara clarifies.

Bruce grunts as your eyebrows shoot up. “This is Black Mask?” you whisper, except you’ve never been very good at whispering. Tim slices a hand over his neck to silence you as Jason moves to your computer. He’s been eyeing the program you’re using to broadcast the comm connection, and he thinks he’s found the mute button. He taps a key and then turns his head toward you. “Off?”

You nod. “Off. Thanks. This is Black Mask’s security?”

“Yeah, he’s making a move against the jail. He’s going to get some of his guys out,” Tim explains.

“Hmm. Hmm hmm hmm.” You tap your fingers against your chin.

“What?” Tim folds his arms over his chest.

“I originally sold it to the Falcones.” You flick your hair out of your face. “Guess they sold me out behind my back.”

A security program that’s making its way through the mob? That’s…really useful, actually.

“Can you get in and stop them?” Bruce asks.

“Maybe,” Oracle hedges. “Hold on, I have to call in reinforcements.” She mutes Bruce’s line. “Escher, you’re up.”

“Wait, you want it now?” you say, aghast. “Christ, how long do I have?”

“Act quickly.” Bruce orders. “My intel says they’re moving at 3:45am.”

Your eyes fly to the clock on your monitor. “What the fuck!” you screech. “That’s in forty minutes! I can’t do it in forty minutes! I have to break through my own walls!”

“Escher,” Barbara starts, just as Tim says “listen, you have to—”

“I can’t, it’s not enough time!” you wail.

“Hey, hey,” Jason cuts in. “Easy. Don’t worry, love. You can do it.”

You look at him fearfully. “You haven’t even told me what to do!”

“Just get past the security,” Jason says patiently. “Don’t worry about shutting down the whole program.”

You nod at him, eyes wide.

“Deep breaths, now,” he instructs. “Come on, in for two, hold, out for four. We’ll do it together. Ready?”

You nod again.

“Okay.” Jason sucks in a breath, loudly so it’ll register over the modulator. You copy him, inhaling, holding, and exhaling on his rhythm. After a few breaths you shake your head, turning back to the computer.

“Alright. I can make it happen.” You resume typing, eyes narrowed as you focus.

“We’re alright, B, I’ve got someone on it,” Oracle says, satisfied.

Tim turns to Jason, clearly impressed. Jason shrugs. You’ve been together for a while now, he knows how to pull you out of a spiral.

He turns back to you. You’re ripping through code at a hundred miles an hour, hunched over the keyboard. Jason grimaces, he’s always trying to get you to sit up straight to help your tech neck. He’ll have to rub out the knots in your shoulders later.

Jason feels Cass’ eyes on him, and he tilts his head toward her. Less than forty minutes, she signs to him. I’ll have to take it back to the Clocktower.

Jason’s thought of that. He evenly points his chin in your direction. You can handle it, he knows you can. Cass nods.

Tim coughs quietly, and Jason raises his head to look at him. “You want the keys to the castle?” he mutters.

He means code you built that generates new security programs. Jason nods. “But that’s just between us, yeah?” It would be loads easier for Jason if he keeps the code out of Bruce’s hands. Black Mask has been operating in Jason’s territory, and Jason has a long string of investigations against him, well-beyond the scope of this Blackgate shit. Bruce needs to keep his nose out of it.

Tim scoffs. “Fine. Seems like you should get first dibs anyway.” He nods towards your desk where you’re still working stubbornly.

The room is silent, all three of them letting you work. After a few minutes, Tim steps toward you. “Here, you need any hel—”

Jason throws an arm out to stop him, just as Cass grabs his wrist and tugs him backwards, shaking her head. He holds up his hands in surrender.

Fifteen minutes later, you rap your knuckles on your desk. “Oi, peanut gallery!” You spin around in your chair, smiling wickedly. “I solved your case for you!”

“It’s not a case,” Tim mutters, and Jason scoffs.

“Don’t be jealous, RR,” Babs says over the line. “You can both be the prettiest.” Tim splutters as you laugh delightedly.

“Nice job,” Jason says, placing a hand on your shoulder. You grin up at him. He catches Cass and Tim share a look, sees her sign something too fast for his eyes to follow.

“Batgirl’s bringing it to you now, Oracle,” Tim says as you unplug the flash drive and hand it to Cass. You wave to her as she slips through the window.

“My backup came through,” Babs reports to Bruce. “They’ll be obsolete in a few minutes.”

“Copy.” The line fizzles as Babs cuts him off.

“Fuck yeah,” you grin in satisfaction. “Nothing like hearing that overgrown Bat say ‘copy.’”

Jason cackles as Tim rolls his eyes. “Oracle,” he says loudly. “Hood was in the dark about our friend here.” His eyes flick to you before he looks at Jason meaningfully.

And just what the fuck does he think he’s doing? Jason all but snarls at him.

“Huh. I could’ve sworn you were smarter than that, Hood,” Barbara admonishes.

“Shut up, O,” he grumbles. Jason glances at you to make sure you haven’t caught on to what they’re talking about, but you don’t seem to be paying attention; you’ve pulled up Steam and are scrolling through your game library.

“Maybe it’s time to clue them in. Take off your party hat,” Barbara says meaningfully. Tim nods forcefully.

“Butt out,” Jason says half-heartedly, but it doesn’t stick. He’s been thinking about telling you about Red Hood anyway; you’ve been together for a year and a half. He’s been…well, he’s scared. But maybe he shouldn’t be.

“We’d have to vote on it,” he says gruffly. Tim pumps his fist in the air. “In person,” he says meaningfully. Comm links aren’t safe, apparently.

“You have my vote,” Babs says confidently. “And Batgirl’s, too, she’s here.” Barbara pauses meaningfully. “I’m happy for you, Hood.”

“Me too!” Tim pipes up immediately.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason waves them off, like his heart isn’t pounding. “Can you call everyone over?”

“Roger that.” Barbara seems pleased. “Hood is asking us all to meet near him,” she broadcasts aloud. “Sending you coordinates.”

Dick, Steph, Bruce, and Damian all copy. Jason steels himself. “Alright, RR, time to go.”

You glance at him as he moves toward the window. “Heading out?”

“Yeah,” Tim answers. “Got a big family meeting to get to.” He grins at Jason.

“Okay. See you around. Nice meeting you,” you say to Jason, before turning back to your screen.

“Uh, yeah,” he says uncomfortably, while Tim snickers. “See you later.”

The troops have already assembled two rooftops over. “Hood, what’s the situation?” Bruce asks sternly.

“The situation,” Tim starts happily, “is—”

“Hold on,” Jason cuts him off. “Disconnect comm links.” He watches warily as everyone takes them out of their ears.

“Compromised?” Dick asks with concern.

“Uh, yeah.” Jason scratches the back of his neck. “Listen, uh…” he looks at Tim helplessly.

“Jason’s dating Escher.”

“What!” Dick screams as Steph claps her hands together excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating anyone?”

“Uh—”

“Fuck, yeah!” Steph interrupts. “This is great! Escher’s the freaking best!”

“Language,” Bruce says as Jason takes off the helmet to glare at Steph accusingly.

“We play Minecraft together,” she explains. “I didn’t know you two were dating!”

“Wait, hold on. I thought you all knew about that.” Jason shifts his glare to Tim.

Tim shrugs. “Only me and Babs knew,” he says.

“Timmy, why didn’t you share!” Dick groans, bounding over to ruffle Jason’s hair.

Jason pushes him away, trying to swipe his feet out from under him. Dick dodges easily, throwing a light right hook in return. “Wasn’t any of your business, now was it?” Jason says gruffly.

Tim looks at Dick, raising his eyebrows. “Didn’t want to get on his bad side.”

“Fair.” Dick grins softly at Jason, bumping shoulders with him. “Nice job, Little Wing.”

Jason blushes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Congrats, Todd, but why are we all here?” Damian interrupts.

“I’m gonna tell ‘em,” Jason says simply. “About this. If it’s cool.”

“Fine with me,” Steph says instantly.

Tim nods, “seconded. Babs and Cass say it’s fine with them, we asked before we went dark.”

“Well, who am I to stand in their way,” Dick half-jokes, but he’s looking at Bruce with serious eyes. So is Jason.

“I’ll follow Father’s ruling,” Damian says stoutly.

That leaves the big man himself. Bruce smiles gently. “Of course, Jaylad. We’re all happy for you.”

Jason blushes all over again. “Thanks, old man.” He lets out a breath.

“But we have to ask Duke,” Bruce adds meaningfully.

“I texted him, he says it’s fine,” Tim says quickly. “But also, uh—” he holds his hand to his ear.

Warily, Jason puts his comm back in. “Jason, what the fuck!” you shriek. “What the fucking fuck is this!”

“I forgot to disconnect,” Babs says sheepishly.

“Jason, you ass! Why didn’t you tell me you ran around in a fucking costume?” you shout down the line. Steph and Dick keel over laughing. Jason realizes everyone has taken the liberty of putting their comm back in.

“Baby, please,” he says resignedly.

“Baby?” Dick mouths, beaming.

“Don’t you fucking ‘baby’ me!” you holler.

“Babe, you are a hacker,” he points out. “How come you didn’t share that with the class?”

That makes you pause. “Fair fucking point, I guess,” you mutter. Jason sees Bruce try to tug the comm out of Damian’s ear, but Damian dances out of reach.

“Uh, also, can you cool it with the swearing?” Jason asks. “There’s a kid here.”

“…if it’s Robin I am going to throw up.”

“Hello,” Damian says helpfully.

Your end of the line is silent.

“Hey, Escher, it’s Spoiler!” Steph cuts in. “Nice job shacking up with Hood.” She eyes Jason evilly.

“This is a fucking ambush,” you grind out. “Jason, you fucking ambushed me.”

“Language,” Bruce orders gently. Tim just about busts a gut while Jason waves frantically at Bruce, shaking his head rapidly. “Nice to meet you over the phone,” Bruce adds. Dick gives him a thumbs up.

“…likewise,” you say eventually. “I hope you’ll excuse me, but this has been insane, and I’m disconnecting. Jason, get your as— get back here after you’ve finished your family dinner.” Your end goes dead.

“They seem nice,” Bruce says after a moment. “We’ll have to talk about how they got into the comm links,” he looks at Tim reproachfully.

“See you later, Hood,” Dick says easily, nodding at your building.

Jason turns back to your apartment. He can already see you in the window, arms crossed over your chest. You’re trying to scowl at him, but he can see the smile trying to escape.

He shrugs his shoulders, grinning. You throw up your hands but beckon him anyway. Come on, come back.

Don’t worry, Jason’s coming.

[tateszn]

sweet lover - clark kent bf hcs

a/n: blurry moodboards are my staple atp, there's no escaping it. very wholesome headcannons, clark is so boyfriend. 653 words.

all of my fics are black!reader

clark is so sweet and kind it makes your heart hurt.

he would enjoy doing things for you. if you ask him to help you with your hair, he’d do whatever you say in a heartbeat. with things like this, its a mix of wanting to do things for you, while also wanting to spend time together. 

“clark, are you doing anything this weekend?” “mmm, no. i don't think so, why?” “do you want to help me take my braids out? i don’t feel like doing it myself.” “of course!”

clark is completely enamored by you.

he’d come to your house before taking you out, and lay on your bed to watch you do your hair and makeup. he would inadvertently memorise every step of your routine. he would also help you pick out an outfit if you asked him to. 

you and clark help each other study.

if he understands a topic better than you, he’ll definitely help you if you ask. he wouldn’t mind at all, the same goes for you.

“could you help me with the math homework tonight please, clark? i don’t understand anything.” “well maybe if you didn’t sleep through math class today, you’d understand,” he’s only teasing, but he did kind of clock your tea, “but that works out perfectly because i need help with history assignment.”

“well maybe if YOU didn’t sleep through history…”

clark really enjoys your company.

the both of you could just be in his room doing your own things and not really talking much, but he wouldn't mind. your positive energy and the fact that you’re there would keep him content. he enjoys being outside with you just as much, though. the two of you could be hanging out at the talon, going to the movies, or having a picnic, it doesn’t matter. he loves spending time with you.

clark loves to listen to you talk.

you could be talking about anything on planet earth, and he’s listening attentively. you could be talking about something you read, drama around school, or just a random story. whatever it is, he’s listening and responding.

“...and lana told me that she said… which was crazy because i saw her… and mind you…” “that’s crazy! how could she just lie like that?” “i know! and she thought we wouldn’t notice, and you know chloe said…”

clark’s parents love you.

mrs. kent is very fond of you because you help out around the house if she needs it. martha really does enjoy baking with you, she thinks you’re so fun. clark says his parents tell him about how lucky he is to have you. you’re glad because you think his parents are so so so sweet!

clark constantly compliments you.

he’s the first to notice something new about you. whether it be a new hairstyle, new set of nails, or even something minor like a new shade of blush. he always showers you with compliments. there’s not a universe that exists where you’ve grown tired of his admiration. of course you love to compliment him too, theres no way you wouldn’t!

“you look so good in that shirt, clark.” “really? i never notice how i look in things.” “well i notice, and i think you look very handsome.” “thanks, beautiful.”

“you smell amazing. are you wearing a new perfume?” “yessss, do you like it?” “of course i like it, it may be my new favorite.” clark loves to take naps with you

usually after a long day of school when you both are tired, you’re both taking a nap together. the two of you could be in his bed, your bed, one of your living room couches, theres no discrimination. you’re usually laying on his chest (best spot in the house!) with his hand playing with your hair. his hand in your hair lulls you to sleep, it’s so therapeutic.

where can i order a clark kent :(((((

thank you @anitalenia for the divider <3!!

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Fourteen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Secrets are revealed, relationships are tested, and the arrival of new guests at the River House make things all the more complicated. Oh and some canon typical violence.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

There was something cold and damp against your forehead, the bitter taste of medicine lingered on your tongue, dry and acrid, and a faint pulsing near the base of your skull.

“She’s waking up.” Gwyn’s voice came to your ears through fifteen feet of water. “You can hold her hand, if you’d like. She can handle it now.”

A hand slid into yours, palms calloused from hundreds of years spent swinging a sword. Warm and heavy. Golden light pricked behind your eyes like sunlight through thin curtains and you woke up to the sun smiling down on you, red-eyed and weary.  

“Helion?” His healing touch traveled over you, whisking away any remaining tenderness in your stomach. You whimpered when he wove his fingers through your hair, gently peeling apart any tangles. It felt nice to be touched by him. Safe.

“I’m here.” 

“It hurts,” you murmured, even though you couldn’t identify the pain very well. It seemed to exist both within you and outside of you, pressing down on your chest until even breathing felt unnatural. Everything just… hurt. Your head, your heart, your throat. Like you’d swallowed a mouthful of hot ash. “I’m so… I’m so tired.” 

Again Helion combed your hair back with his fingers and you felt the sore spot on the back of your head prickle when he touched it. The blood had been cleaned, the wound closed, but you could still feel it there like a stamp sinking into your skin. The same way you could feel the stretch of scar tissue over your stomach. A thick, pale line a few inches below your sternum.  

“You’re ok, my dear. Rest. I won’t let anything hurt you.” 

“Thanks Dad,” you whispered, but you were already slipping away. You wouldn’t remember what you called him when you woke up again. 

Helion gritted his teeth and brushed away the stray tears that dripped down your cheeks, then his own. 

“I won’t let anything hurt you,” he said to the empty air.

The next time you awoke was not so pleasant. There was no caressing hand down your face. No slow murmurs from your father. No warm light blinking in the darkness. 

There was the banging of doors. Cassian’s alarmed shouts mixing with Rhysand and Mor’s, and Feyre’s commands for Nyx to take Velaria upstairs and lock the door behind them.

“Don’t come down until I get you, ok sweetie?” The boy’s footsteps were light and quick up the stairs as he calmed a startled Velaria with gentle coos. 

“Gwyn?” You reached across the bed for the priestess’s hand. Her robes looked like they were glowing to your sleep-dazed eyes. 

Her teal eyes were hard. The grip on her knife tight. 

“Gwyn, what’s happening?”

“Shhhh. Go back to sleep.” 

Helion roared and the River House shook down to its foundations. The silky covers stuck to your weak arms, slippery and cool as you gripped Gwyn’s arm and forced yourself to stand. Your knees immediately buckled and Gwyn’s awaiting arms caught you in a sprawl of heavy limbs. 

The House trembled once more. The wooden banisters creaked. The faelights that sat on swooping, wrought iron curls blinked on and off, signaling the House’s alarm as the floor slipped and slid beneath your feet. Help me! The House seemed to shout. 

“Gwyn.” 

“Hold onto me.” 

You leaned heavily against the priestess’s side, her arm wrapped around your waist, and together you stumbled out the door and into the hallway. 

You blinked, eyes adjusting to the lamplight just as Cassian flew across the room, crashing into the fireplace mantle in a burst of color that had you turning pale. The glass figurines and picture frames cracked and shattered in a rain of glass. But Cass only grumbled, “This is what I get for helping,” before bouncing onto his feet and charging back into the foyer where Rhysand, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor stood. Rhysand kept his arm out in front of the two sisters and grabbed Mor’s arm before she could step further. 

“Let them go.” Rhys said, his voice low and deadly. He knew something they didn’t. “Helion has a right to this.” 

“It wasn’t Azriel’s fault,” Mor seethed.

“Doesn’t matter. I’d do the same if anyone hurt Velaria.” 

“What the hell does that—” 

Helion slammed Azriel’s bloody and bruised body against the wall with a snarl. The shattered vases in the hallway and the blood dripping from Azriel's broken nose clear evidence that you'd stumbled upon this fight a few minutes late.

Helion held a fistful of black leather in one hand and a gleaming sword of pure light angled up just beneath Azriel’s sternum in the other. His skin burned so brightly even Azriel’s shadows had slunk away to seek shelter in the few remaining dark corners of the House.

“You bastard,” Helion spit out the words like venom. 

Azriel hung limp and exhausted, wings brushing against the floor. The bruises beneath his eyes and the cut of his cheeks spoke of days spent without sleep. Days spent prowling Velaris for Andrian. Days spent waiting outside your door for you to wake up. 

“You think I don’t see what game you’re playing? This pathetic pattern of yours?” Helion’s eyes flashed a dangerous yellow. 

“Helion!” Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be. “Let him go!”

“It’s not a game,” Azriel said through gritted teeth. “It’s never been a game. Not with her.” “Don’t. Lie. To. Me,” Helion snarled. He pulled Azriel off the wall only to slam him back into it. Cracks splintered out like spiderwebs. Dust floated down and landed in Azriel’s hair like snow. “It wasn’t so long ago that you were convinced enough about a mating bond with Elain to invoke a fucking Blood Duel with Lucien Vanserra. Now you’re chasing after Y/n’s skirts like a dog? Looking at her with lovesick eyes as if being near you won’t bring anything but death on her head?” 

You went still.

He’d… he’d challenged Elain’s mate to a Blood Duel?

He’d believed they were mates?

All at once it made sense why Elain and Lucien had disappeared to the Mortal Lands, chased away by a violence that should have ended with either Lucien or Azriel ritualistically buried in the ground. Nothing but a pint of blood and a name to remember them by. All at once it made sense why it had been so long since their family had lived under one roof. 

Your words shriveled up in your throat and died there.

Azriel stiffened, eyes flashing dangerously. 

Helion clicked his tongue in disapproval. “You’re not the only one who hears whispers, Shadowsinger,” he hissed. “First it was Mor you pined after for five-hundred years, then Elain, then the priestess. One right after the other like a prize just out of reach.” 

Gwyn tensed beside you and your heart tightened in your chest like untempered glass ready to shatter. 

“Gwyn?” You whispered. 

You had no right to Azriel, no right to know about his past exploits with females, but still it felt like something you should have been told after long nights spent in the priestess’s presence. Months of living under their roof, eating their food, and falling in love without a whisper of warning. The things they must have whispered about when you weren’t in the room. 

Her silence was all you needed to hear. Greasy and rotten.

Azriel’s hands shook the more Helion spoke. 

“You like your females broken and vulnerable. You like it when they need you. When you get to swoop in feeling like some grand hero. So you felt you had the right to go after my daughter! And then you were too weak to protect her when the time came? You dared to lay a hand on her are you fucking kidding me?!”

The world froze at those two words. The Inner Circle was shocked into complete silence. 

You swayed dangerously as the floor tilted beneath your bare feet. 

Is that what they thought of you? Is that what Azriel thought of you? Broken. Weak. Pathetic. Someone who couldn’t handle their own. Someone who had needed saving. An easy target to charm and dazzle. A Librarian who’d been left alone for so long she’d throw herself at the first handsome male who smiled in her direction. 

Azriel stiffened. 

You were Helion’s daughter. And somehow that made everything worse, because Azriel knew how lonely you’d been as a child and how much losing your mother had nearly destroyed you. You’d shoved yourself into the Alcove where everything was familiar and safe, and all this time Helion had just stood by and done the bare minimum. 

Azriel had been holding back his rage — his pain — but he felt it erupt with new passion. Lingering jealousy, that acid that had been building up every time you mentioned Helion or touched the necklace he’d gifted you, added fuel to the fire. Shadows burst out from his hands and ate away at Helion’s magic like a plague.

“Don’t you dare,” Azriel growled and spit blood onto the floor by Helion's feet, “You weren’t even here. She could have died on those streets.” His voice was hoarse and on the verge of breaking, “And you wouldn’t have been there.” 

And he might not have been there either. 

Rhys had held him back, refusing to let go even as Azriel had tried to crawl to you on broken bones. Even as Azriel had screamed for you. 

Helion's face twisted into something ugly and foreign to you, because deep down he knew the true reason he was so enraged at the Shadowsinger. It was like looking in a mirror. They’d failed you in similar ways. 

“Helion… Helion no!” But your father didn’t listen. 

His power shot out in a blaze of light and heat and slammed into Azriel’s chest. His shadows were barely able to soften the blast. Azriel saw you then, shock and horror seeping down the bond along with something that felt a lot like heartbreak. You watched wide-eyed and slack jawed as the wall bowed out and then snapped in two. Azriel was thrown onto the front lawn, a gaping tear left in the House like a knife wound. 

Helion stepped outside and stalked up to Azriel like a lion out for blood. There was murder and hatred in his eyes. 

Everyone was shouting again as he raised his sword. 

You felt a flare of something bright and hot in your chest, like a shot of whiskey or the first bleeding rise of the sun. You stood up on your own, eyes burning with a glassy, gold sheen that had Gwyn stepping away from you with a gasp. You were glowing, pure and clear and strong. 

You’d only felt like this twice before. First, when you’d grabbed hold of Henna and stopped hiding who you really were, and then once more at the Palace of Hoof and Leaf mere minutes before Azriel had turned the book to ash. Both moments where your power demanded to be felt. Moments when your emotions turned to magic. 

“Helion.” Your voice echoed throughout the room and into the wide open space beyond, eerie and calm. So loud. So quiet. Like an aching whisper in pitch black darkness. “Let. Him. Go.”

Helion blinked in surprise with his arms still raised over his head. Inch by inch that blade of bright light faded away with the dying light of a sunset. His eyes cooled and that magic rage left his body. He staggered away from where Azriel lay on the ground. 

Your hands were trembling, but you forced them to be calm as Azriel got back on his feet, hazel eyes boring into yours. He drank in the sight of you. Your wrapped forearm. The white bandages around your middle peering through your thin nightgown. Your clean hair. 

The smell of blood was but a distant nightmare, even if he swore he could still feel it on his ruined hands. Slippery and dark. 

You turned to leave.

“Y/n, wait!” Azriel shoved a stunned Helion out of his way, racing back into the House in a blur of darkness. “Y/n,” he begged and reached out his hand, “Please let me explain.” 

You froze. The weight of his hand wrapping around your wrist and the rough feel of his scars against your fluttering pulse pinned you to the floor. You felt uncentered — off kilter — and without meaning to, you were thrust into his mind. 

You felt the way he’d pined after Mor for centuries. Always close by. Waiting. Watching for the moment she might actually look at him and realize what he was willing to become for her. Someone to love and kiss and take to bed. Someone who’d never have cast her off into that wood. Someone who would do whatever she asked until she was smiling and whole again. 

You felt the way he looked at Gwyn, like she could be the answer to all his questions. Like she could be the one to hone all his sharp edges with her delicate smile and her creamy skin and dewdrop eyes. Because if she could love him, it might actually mean something. It would mean he was capable of fixing, not just destroying. 

You… you knew the ways he’d imagined Elain. Three sisters for three brothers. Mates. Fate. Love. How he’d imagined touching her. How he had touched her. The thrill of hiding away in dark corners and the soft skin of her fragile neck beneath his lips. The arch of her back. Wood grain beneath his fingers as he pressed her up against a wall and kissed her. How he couldn’t imagine wanting anyone else ever again. 

You felt the acidic contents of your stomach surge and wrenched your hand out of his grasp. 

Azriel faltered, eyes wide and staring. Something inside of him fractured and broke. You hadn’t pulled away from him like that since Summer Solstice back when you were strangers and meant nothing to one another. But even then you hadn’t looked at him with this much feeling. This much betrayal. 

His arm was still outstretched and hanging in the empty air. 

Tears dotted your eyes, but you forbid them from falling. Not in front of him. Never in front of him. 

“I am not broken.” 

You went back to your room and slammed the door shut. 

“I thought he liked me,” you murmured pathetically, leaning against Helion’s side. He’d slid into your room quietly and approached you like a wounded animal ready to scatter. 

Your father hesitated, fingers caught in hair that reminded him so painfully of Leda — of your mother. Things had not ended well between them, but he could think of her with nothing less than fondness and gratitude. After all, Leda had given birth to you. Brilliant, wonderful, beautiful you. 

He listened to the House and the way it seemed to be holding its breath. The doors shut a little tighter. The curtains hugged the windows. And across the hall shadows lingered by the door of Azriel’s room, reaching out towards yours but never crossing the threshold. They were held back by their master’s tight leash. 

“I know this might come as a surprise after what I did, but I… He did like you. He does like you. They all do. How could they not?”

You shook your head slowly. “But not in the way I want him to. Not in the way I lo—” You shut your mouth and sighed bitterly. Your cheeks flushed with warmth and before you knew it you were crying again, leaking tears onto Helion’s bare shoulder and feeling wretched. 

Azriel curled in on himself, collapsed on the floor like a broken doll with knees pulled up to his chest as he ignored the pulling of his shadows. 

She needs you. She needs you. She needs you. They repeated over and over again, yanking on his leathers and strands of ebony black hair. Helion had left for one of the guest bedrooms upstairs after you cried yourself to sleep. Now was Azriel’s chance to beg for your forgiveness. To explain himself. To hope.

She needs you.

Azriel shrugged them off, scattering their disembodied voices with a wave of his gloved hand. He was back to wearing them. 

I am the last thing she needs.

“Lucien’s found one of Bethsevah’s descendants.” 

Gwyn stood by the doorway, pale skin and blue robes outlined by the mountain’s red walls. The priestess kept her hands behind her back, wringing them in a nervous twist of bitten fingernails, and waited for you to finally look up from your notes. 

You didn’t like spending time at the House. You hated the way everyone’s attention shifted to you whenever you entered a room; the look of tight, empathetic smiles and knowing glances filling their eyes. It wasn’t that they were trying to be unkind, but you knew they whispered about the power you’d displayed. About your status as Helion’s bastard daughter. About the absolute state that Azriel was in. 

This morning, when you’d left your room for Cagniv Library, Azriel had been waiting, filling his bedroom door frame with a hauntingly tortured look in his eyes. 

“Y/n, please—” 

You’d left without a second glance in his direction, footsteps hurried and head bowed down. His shadows had followed you to the front steps of the house, but no further and you couldn’t help but feel a weight in your chest thinking about how Azriel had looked. He’d started wearing the gloves again. 

Bethsevah’s name rang through the air like a jolt of electricity. After thousands of years, her name still held a strength that demanded to be felt. The book was gone. Whatever magic Azriel had been forced to perform had swept it away to the Continent, and Rhys and Feyre had been wracked with worry and preparations ever since. Favors called in. Threats made. Weapons forged. Bodies armed. At any point they might be called away to the Continent, or forced to reckon with a Death God at their door. 

You’d helped in your own way by digging through your notes on mating bonds and the manuscript that was becoming more useful each day. 

Thanatos and the Bone Carver, one and the same, and mated to Bethsevah Mordeigh. Magic that wasn’t the same, but perfectly complementary. Magic that worked as a lock and a key. 

You were made to ruin me.

Your initial theory, the one you’d shared with Azriel in that cramped apartment at the Alcove, had turned out to be true. Bethsevah, and Bethsevah alone as Thanatos’s mate, had possessed the ability to split him from his power and lock him away, and because his magic was cut from the same kind as his siblings, Beth had been able to do the same with Stryga and Koschei. Her blood, her genetic connection to that magic, would be the only thing capable of releasing the power in the lake. 

All magic could trace itself back to a biological underpinning. 

You were made to ruin me.

The memory was burned behind your sleepless eyes and haunted your dreams, but sometimes when you stopped concentrating so hard on the harsh angles that made up the Bone Carver’s face, you caught him transforming. Black eyes turned to brandy. His reed thin body filled out and grew strong. Wings sprouted from his back. His pale skin turned tan and scarred.

You were made to ruin me, Y/n. Azriel would say, and you’d pretend that the look of utter love and adoration in his eyes was real. 

“When will they be arriving?” 

Gwyn sighed in relief. You’d been so quiet the last few days. “Tomorrow.” 

Mor bit her cherry red lips, glancing at Rhys and Feyre with worry in her eyes as they all stood in a row ready to greet their guests. Rhys was schooling his features into one of careful neutrality, but Mor had known him for centuries. She’d seen him through his awkward teenage years when his skin wasn’t so perfect and his body grew like a weed in Spring. Back when his temper wasn’t so honed and his ego undeserved. She knew when he was agitated. The squaring of his shoulders. The set of his eyes. The faintest twitch of his left ear. 

What a fucking mess this all was. If he thought about it too hard it gave him a raging headache. 

Azriel and Y/n were mates, although Y/n didn’t know and no one knew how to tell her, especially after Azriel had stabbed her through the chest under Andrian’s influence. Helion had nearly killed Az. Azriel had nearly killed Lucien. And if anyone ever told Lucien about Y/n being his half-sister, he was sure Lucien would try and kill Azriel too… again. And— oh FUCK. Helion didn’t know Lucien was his son. Y/n didn’t Lucien was her half-brother. Fuck fuck FUCK. Cauldron boil me.

Rhysand rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. 

Azriel stood motionless, nothing but the minor sway of his wings and the masked look of anguish in his eyes to hint that he was still reeling from that day in the market square. He couldn’t stop glancing over at where you stood between Mor and Cassian, every inch of your skin covered and a forcefully blank look on your face.

Truth Teller was no longer strapped to his thigh. His shadows had returned, but with hesitance, and Rhys couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen Azriel eat something. Every family meal that you didn’t attend, Azriel would just stare at your empty seat and flinch at the sound of knives dragging through meat.

Feyre winced at the onslaught of Rhysand’s thoughts. Do we even want to attempt to fix any of that right now?

Feyre darling, where would we even begin?

At least Helion’s moved to the House of Wind. Feyre offered it as a small consolation. Took me a while to convince him of that.

Rhys gritted his teeth. And he will stay on that fucking mountain.

Lucien had gone his entire life not knowing about Helion precisely because when he stood next to his brothers he blended in. There was just enough similarity there in the silhouette of their faces and their overwhelmingly bright red hair, that no one had ever batted an eye at the seventh son of Autumn. But put Lucien and Helion side by side and a keen eye would make out the same strong slope of their noses, the same dimples on their cheeks when they smiled, and the way their brow bones hung over deep set eyes.

You possessed such an eye — an eye for details and specifics. So when Lucien Vanserra walked through the front doors with the setting sun splashing his frame with fire and light, Elain glowing and beautiful beside him, you knew immediately who he was. 

Fuuuuccccckkkkkk. Cassian groaned. Nesta, she knows. 

Stop it. There’s no way she figured it out that quickly. Nesta said. Then she actually looked at you. Your mouth was open in a round “o” and your face had gone pale. Oh for fuck’s sake. Really?

Your gaze was locked on Lucien as he walked up to Rhysand and shook his hand. 

“Lucien, welcome back to the Night Court. It’s been too long.” 

His golden eye whirred, moving up and down the line and lingering first on Azriel. His full lips flattened, freckled nose twitching with thinly veiled distaste. “Not long enough.” But his many years spent as emissary wiped the emotion from his face quickly and he moved on, greeting everyone with a detached kindness. 

“Luc.” The High Lady grinned, finally tugging a genuine smile from Lucien Vanserra’s lips. 

“Hey Feyre.” 

She wrapped him in her arms, closing her eyes and giving him a hearty squeeze. 

“It’s good to see you again.” 

“You too.” 

There was a somber familiarity there, and you got the sense that Feyre was the only one Lucien truly felt connected to. Whatever history he had with the other members of the Inner Circle was tolerable at best.

You finally caught his eye — the one strange face he’d never seen before. He easily towered above you, built with Helion’s strong legs and resplendent in a deep green riding cloak and cream-colored trousers that accentuated the tinge of color in his skin and his mismatched eyes. 

He tipped his head to the side, his long braid falling over his shoulder, and smiled softly. “You must be the Librarian that got roped into all of this madness.” Yes. Because that’s all you were to him — some unnamed female from the Day Court. An unfortunate victim of circumstance. “Y/n Halwynn.” 

You blinked, surprised to hear him speak your name so casually when you were reeling over the fact that standing in front of you was another one of Helion’s children. Another bastard that perhaps should never have been. Your half-brother.

“The one and the same.” 

Lucien evaluated the shrewd set of your eyes and the fit of your clothes over straightened shoulders and found that, at first glance, he quite liked you. You were of the bookish variety — that much was evident in the small novels dragging down your pockets and the smudged inkstains on your fingertips — but you held yourself in front of him well. You looked kind, if not skittish. 

“Lucien Vanserra.” He held out his hand and you regarded it with hesitance before accepting it. 

“I know the name.”

“It is a rather infamous last name.” 

“Bit of an infamous first name too.” 

Lucien smiled a little wider. Yes. He quite liked you. 

Elain hugged her sisters in turn, breathing in their familiar scent and gripping them tightly. Her time in the Human Lands had served her well. Gone were the days of frail bones and heavy eyes always looking out sunny windows. Her skin was flush with color, her hands strong and calloused, and her knees pleasantly bruised after months spent laboring in the fields outside Vassa and Jurian’s manor. She smelled like soil and flowers. She was as lovely as everyone had always described her. The second Archeron sister who’d been born with an unnatural beauty even before turning fae. 

Your eyes dropped to the floor so you wouldn’t have to see what Azriel did when she greeted him. But it didn’t matter. They avoided one another carefully, and Azriel kept looking at you, begging you to lift up your eyes so he could offer you a smile. 

A word. 

A glance. 

Anything.

Bethsevah’s descendant appeared next, willful and stunning in her own way as she waited by the door. Her frizzy grey hair was held away from her face with a strap of leather, stormcloud eyes staring out unflinchingly from a time-worn face. Everything about her was grey from her hair to her clothes and the iron jewelry that hung from her neck and wrists. Cassian sometimes forgot how humans wore their age so openly, and how this woman in particular seemed to brandish it like a weapon. 

“Ione Morgana.” Her voice was deep and hardy. Her eyes narrowed at everyone now that the familiar introductions had finished. “That’s my name and it’s the name my family has carried as long as we can remember. Although the redhead seems to believe otherwise. I am old, as you creatures can very well see, and I am tired. My parents are long gone. My sons dead. My sisters dead too. Now,” she banged her walking stick on the ground, although she hadn’t used it when walking up the steps, “Which one of you will see me to my room?” Her words came out more as a command than a question. 

Rhys tipped his head to the side, his surprise evident on his face. “You’re a very bold woman. Do you not comprehend who you’re standing in front of? My wife in particular?” 

“Boldness comes with age.” She stuck her nose in the air like a wolf sniffing for a bunny, “Something you’d do well to learn.” 

An amused smile grew on Rhysand’s face. “I’m over five hundred years old.” 

“You certainly don’t act like it, standing all crooked like a tryhard.” 

Cassian coughed into his fist and Mor snickered. 

“I could kill you.” 

Rhys!

Relax, my love, I’m just curious how she will react. 

The woman — Ione — hardly reacted at all. In fact, she almost smiled. “Time can kill me. Sickness can kill me. At this point a stiff wind could knock me down and break my back. You’re not special.” She whacked her walking stick again, harder this time. “Now. My room?”

Nesta raised and then dipped her head in silent acknowledgement and together they disappeared into the east wing of the house looking like two grey chess pieces moving over the tiles. 

“Wonderful isn’t she?” Elain commented with a fond look in her eyes. She was Ione’s favorite by far.

Jurian came in last, sweat beading his brow as he dragged a huge steel cage up the steps, and Lucien and Elain’s faces turned solemn. Vassa flitted inside her prison — a cage within a cage so that she couldn’t snap at Jurian’s hands when he got too close. His eyes were bloodshot, knuckles bruised and bloody. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. You’d imagined the firebird as something majestic. You’d imagined feathers dipped from the richest dyes trailing light from their ends like red, green, and blue sparklers. Instead, her eyes were the only vibrant feature about her, and they were sharp from hunger. 

“What’s happened to her?” Cassian breathed. When he stepped forward, Vassa lunged from her perch, screeching when she clashed with the steel grate. Her claws tore at the metal but never broke through the magic Lucien had placed there. 

Jurian whispered words of comfort and love through the metal, and in time, Vassa seemed to settle. 

“It started last week,” Lucien said through clenched teeth, “The day Koschei got his hands on the book, Vassa started going mad. She can’t sleep, not in her human form or as a firebird, and she keeps… hungering for something she can’t name. The day we found Ione, she…” 

“She tried to kill me.” Jurian raised his hands and slid his sleeves down. Claw marks, barely healed, ran jagged down his arms. “Let’s not mince words, Lucien.” He grimaced. “Koschei’s trying to call her back to the lake, but she’s fighting it with everything she has.” He looked back at Vassa, eyes dull and tired. She screeched once again and feathers fell from her body before curling up into blackened husks on the floor. You could just make out the sections of skin where she’d ripped out her own feathers, raw and dotted pink with blood. “I suggest you give us a room far away from everyone else.” 

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Author's Note:

^^ Me writing this chapter because Helion finally beat the shit out of Azriel and revealed all the tea about his past relationships with Mor, Elain, and Gwyn and because I got to bring Lucien to the Night Court. And soon! We'll get to see how Lucien reacts when he learns that Y/n is his sister!!!!!!!