#I love his expression here too!! it feels very Him you know

[mercurial-chuckles]

Witless Wednesday Thought

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Warnings: Fluff | Hot n Spicy Supersolider | Bucky losing his shit | Bucky defending you | Smitten Bucky | Smitten Reader | Language | Mutual Pining | Kissing | Happy Ending | Language | ~1k | Unbeta'd | Lemme know if I'm missing anything. A/N: I was working on another story when this tiny one sucker-punched my flow of thoughts. I scheduled it for yesterday, but that didn't work out. Anyhoo, here ya go! Note: Do not Steal, Copy, or Plagiarize any part of my work! I do not consent to AI scraping my work. GIF credits to the OP. Divider made by me. Check out my other works: Masterlist

Part of ♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

Indulge Away!

You'd never seen Bucky so angry, so enraged.

As a matter of fact, you barely saw any other emotion flit his face except impassiveness.

Sweet heavens! He was the most devastatingly handsome man you'd ever seen, too.

Normally, you would admire him inconspicuously, just like you did every day when he walked through your part of the office. But you snapped out of your 'Bucky delirium' for Wyatt's sake, who was currently being throttled by the supersoldier against the shelves.

"You don't call her that," Bucky growled.

Holy Shit! It took you a moment to peel your eyes away from that bulging bicep and clenched jaw to make sense of the situation.

One moment, Wyatt thanked you for resolving the system layout issue, 'I knew I could trust you, dawg!' Wyatt said, and the very next second, you saw Bucky throwing him against the shelves. You didn't even realize Bucky was there. He was so fast it made you question your senses.

Bucky must have misunderstood. As much as he'd adapted, James Buchanan Barnes was still a man rooted in a different era. Modern slang still tripped him, you figured.

"Please," you pleaded hurriedly, unsure how to actually intervene.

Wyatt coughed, stunned, his feet dangling as he struggled in distress.

"Bucky," you said, scared out of your wits. He looked down at you intensely, and you quickly took a small step back when you realized how close you were. As much as you silently pined loved Bucky and had imagined him doing wild things to you with that very same rage on countless occasions, you were, very realistically, intimidated at the moment.

"Please, Bucky," you whispered.

Bucky seemed to snap out of his trance as he blinked, his expression still rigid. He released Wyatt, who stumbled and fell to the floor.

Wyatt crawled away a little. Bucky stepped closer and sneered down at him, "Apologize. Now." He warned.

As much as you enjoyed your friend's sense of humor, Wyatt was so out of his depth sometimes, and you were sure his penchant for saying inappropriate shit would be the end of him. Because after all that just happened, he wouldn't shouldn't have said "Are you serious?"

Wyatt was a personality, alright! You tried your best to look at Wyatt, but Bucky's tall, broad frame blocked your view.

Bucky chuckled darkly, crouching down in front of Wyatt, who was still sprawled on his ass.

"Take a guess. DAWG," Bucky growled.

This shouldn't be funny.

This really shouldn't be turning you on as much as it was.

Wyatt finally seemed to realize the issue.

Fucking finally!

You wanted to explain that what Wyatt said was just an endearment, but the basic functioning of your brain had been fused.

"Look… I didn't mean…" Wyatt started, his gaze shifting to yours, and you must have looked like a stunned animal.

For the love of God, Wyatt! Shut up and say sorry! You thought.

"I'm sorry," Wyatt finally squeaked, trying to push himself off the ground when Bucky leaned further.

Bucky gestured toward you, "Apologize to her," he ordered.

Your heart pounded wildly. You hoped to stay upright and not fall victim to your dancing nerves.

"Sorry," Wyatt muttered, looking at you, and you felt terrified for him too. The poor guy was freaking the fuck out, and all for what, being cool?

"It's alright," you mumbled awkwardly. If not for the very adult feelings currently coursing through your body for the six-foot-something supersoldier, the whole thing might have felt like Wyatt was being scolded for pulling your pigtails on the playground.

When Bucky rose to his full height, you expected him to dash off. But he didn't. He stayed rooted in place, eyes fixed on Wyatt.

Wyatt, however, finally managed to peel himself off the floor, and he bolted in a jiff.

Good for him.

Not so great for you.

You stood there trembling, flushed, and utterly confused.

Bucky slowly turned to you, and the intensity in his gaze caught you off guard. You awkwardly shuffled back, lost your footing, and staggered. He steadied you, metal arm circling your waist and pulling you forward into his chest.

Goodness, Bucky was tall! He was so strong, all muscle, and smelled divine. The urge to nuzzle into his chest made you blush even more. Luckily, a modicum of rationality still prevailed.

But his eyes were so blue and beautiful you couldn't stop looking into them. He didn't avert his gaze either.

Bucky tilted his head and moved closer, studying your face while your brain buzzed and your ears rang.

"You okay?" he asked, his breath warm against your face.

It was totally unfair for a man to look the way he did.

"You with me, doll?"

That nickname in his raspy voice had your lips parting. Reminding yourself to respond, you put some effort into nodding your head a couple of times.

Noticing his eyes shift to your lips, your heart picked up, and you bit on your lower lip, feeling the pulse thrumming in your entire body. His tongue peeked out, quickly proceeding to lick his lower lip.

What was going on? Were you dreaming? But if you were, why did it feel so vivid? You fully expected to wake up on your couch like yesterday, with the TV running in the background.

Bucky slowly stepped back, removing his hand and taking all your sanity with his retreating touch.

"I..." Bucky began, running his fingers over his stubble and licking his lips again. You couldn't help but stare. His lips were so damn pink, and you really, really wanted to kiss him.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Your brain needed rehabilitation from Bucky Barnes.

"Wanna grab a coffee with me?" he asked.

You heard the words coming out of his mouth, you did, but you didn't quite process them. You just kept staring at him.

When you finally noticed the shift in his expression, his face falling and eyes apologetic, you cleared your throat.

"Coffee? With me?" That was a dumb response, but that was what your self-deprecating self came up with.

Bucky nodded, quite expectantly and hopefully.

"Okay," you managed to say, offering a small smile.

Bucky sighed in relief. Then he smiled, all shy and adorable, and you bet you could faint just like that.

Charming bastard! He was gonna kill you with his looks.

"Thank you," he said, grinning wildly. He felt overwhelmingly everywhere around you. Bucky shuffled, rocking on his feet awkwardly before nodding at you curtly.

"Right. Umm…I'll be here at 5:15," he said, and you nodded, though a bit too surprised he knew exactly when you clocked out.

Bucky took a few steps toward the door, and you stared longingly at his retrieving form. He stopped, turned around, and looked at you for a whole minute. His gaze transfixed you. Bucky strutted toward you and pushed you against the wall, both hands cupping your cheeks, making you gasp at the feel of them, at the feel of him.

"Sorry... I just..." he breathed against your lips, giving you a millisecond of space to push him away--you didn't. Instead, you rose on your toes, hands on his chest. Bucky groaned softly, pressed a gentle kiss to your nose, then tilted your face closer and captured your lips, tasting, nipping. The rough stubble scratched your skin sensually.

And somewhere in the corner of your mind, it became clear that Bucky Barnes, an Avenger, had no reason to stroll through the Technical Analysts' floor except for you.

Leave your thoughts if you enjoyed reading it. 💞✨

♡ Weeklong Thingamajig ♡

If you'd like to be tagged/removed from my works, please do so here.

[dismalflo]

I hate you. I'm sure.

sirius black x fem!reader ✩ 3.6k words

summary: For years, you’ve hated Sirius. But when Regulus and James make an announcement, tempers flare until you reach your breaking point.

for this request here.

cw: angst, unrequited love, sirius was a dick to reader in the past, regulus and reader are best friends,

an: i believe this will have one or two more parts because i can't deny myself a happy ending.

Coming home from work should be the most relaxing part of your day. But it’s hard to unwind when you walk in and find Regulus perched stiffly on the sofa, wringing his hands in his lap instead of retreating to his room like he usually does.

It’s immediately clear something’s wrong. He doesn’t even flinch at the clatter of your keys hitting the dish by the door or the way you kick off your shoes with a muttered curse.

“You alright, Reg?” you ask, stepping into the room. He doesn’t jump – just slowly turns his head to look at you, his expression distant.

“I need you to do me a favour,” he says, voice flat and final.

You nod before you’ve even thought about it. “Of course. Anything. What is it?”

You sit on the edge of the couch. Over the years, you’ve learned there’s very little you wouldn’t do for Regulus, and little he wouldn’t do for you. But now he’s looking at you like a cat who's finally caught the mouse. It makes you wary.

“Well, James and I thought it might be nice to have all our friends together and–”

“No,” you say, cutting him off.

“You just said anything,” he retorts, folding his arms.

“I rescind my offer.”

“Don’t be a child, Y/N.”

“I��m not being a child,” you protest, flopping back into the cushions with a groan. “You know I don’t like Potter’s friends.” You squint, as if scrolling through a mental list. “Well, the tall, bookish one isn’t awful–”

“You know Remus’ name.”

“—James is fine, I guess. He makes you happy, and that counts for something,” you admit. “But the other two are dreadful.”

Regulus hunches forward at this, hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. Frustration he had been expecting, but that doesn't make it any easier.

“The other two being Pettigrew and my brother?”

“Exactly,” you say, cheered by his understanding.

To your dismay, Regulus looks up at you with a slow, knowing smile. That trap you suspected? It just snapped shut.

“You’re in luck,” he says, sitting up straighter. “They’re not friends with Pettigrew anymore.”

“So?”

“So you only have to deal with one of them,” he replies, and lifts a finger before you can argue. “Sirius is a prat, yes and I know you hate him. But he’s my brother. And he’s just as important to me as you are.”

Maybe it’s the way he says it. With pleading eyes and a soft tone but you feel your resolve crumbling quickly.

“I want to do this because I love James and we have something to tell everyone,” he continues, “and it would mean a lot to me if you were there. Just one night.”

Hearing Regulus speak so candidly about his feelings when he’s usually so reserved, is what finally breaks down the walls. James is – to your dismay – a good guy, the best for Reg, and what kind of friend would you be if you denied him this.

-

The flat is too warm, too loud, and smells faintly of something burnt – James’ attempt at canapés, probably. You’ve taken two steps inside and already regret agreeing to this. The space is brimming with laughter and the kind of casual affection only people who’ve known each other forever can manage.

You smooth your hands down the front of your clothes, casting a glance around the room for someone tolerable. Remus catches your eye from the drinks table and offers a polite nod, one you return with a quiet sigh of relief. At least you’re not entirely alone in your discontent.

Then, of course, there’s a shoulder brushing your own.

"Evening, poppet."

"You’re like a rash," you say, brushing him away as you move toward the drinks.

Sirius slides in next to you, unbothered. "You know, I've been working on being more tolerable. For you."

You arch a brow. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

He grins, wolfish and unapologetic. “I’d show you, if you let me.”

You don’t answer, just pour yourself a drink. Fingers tightening around the glass when he doesn’t leave.

You’ve tried hating him quietly these last few years. But some things don’t soften with time. Some people don’t change, not really.

Sirius Black was hell to you in school. All biting remarks and cruel nicknames, too intelligent to be harmless and too arrogant to be ignored. To everyone else, he was a harmless kind of chaos – fun, charming, reckless. But not to you.

To you, he was the boy who’d mocked everything about your name, your family, your house. Who had made being a Slytherin something to be ashamed of – especially when you dared to stand beside his younger brother.

Then, just like that, he vanished.

He ran away after fifth year, leaving Regulus to shoulder the fury of their family alone. Left him to rot under pressure Sirius didn’t have the courage to face. Regulus never said it aloud, but you remember the way he didn’t eat. The letters from their parents, full of venom. The nights he stayed silent, staring at the wall like it might give him answers.

You were the one who sat beside him through all of it.

So when Sirius came crawling back – not even to Regulus, but to you, asking how his brother was – you had no sympathy to offer. Not a word. Just a cold shoulder and a closed door.

He kept trying. The questions turned to small talk, which turned into jokes, which eventually turned into flirting.

Like that was the way back in.

Like trying to charm you out of hating him would make it all go away. And he’s kept it up since. Even now, when he and Regulus have never been closer and there's no need to get on your good side.

"Don’t be like that," Sirius says, bumping your shoulder. "It’s a party. I’m trying to be civil."

"This is you being civil?"

He lifts his hands in mock surrender. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re deluded."

But even as you speak, your voice is tired. It’s always like this. You push, he deflects. You ice over, he melts right through. It’s exhausting, pretending the flirting doesn’t get under your skin just a little. Not because you want it, but because it means he’s here again. Still orbiting. Still trying.

The laughter in the room quiets like a slow, receding wave.

James stands on the low step by the fireplace, holding a wine glass that's been empty for the better part of an hour. Regulus is beside him, standing straight and hands clasped behind his back like he’s about to deliver a press statement, not a toast.

You know it’s coming before James even opens his mouth.

“Oi!” he calls out, cheeks flushed and eyes too bright. “Can I have everyone’s attention for just a second?”

Around the room, the conversation hushes. Remus turns down the music. Lily tucks a bottle under her arm like a baby. Sirius appears at your elbow again like a summoned curse, wine glass swinging dangerously from two fingers.

“We have some news.”

You already know. It's written all over Regulus' face – calm, but barely. His lips twitch at the corners like he’s fighting back something softer.

James, predictably, does not fight anything at all.

“I asked Reg to marry me.” His voice lifts, bright with joy. “And he said yes.”

The cheer is immediate and loud, swallowing the room in a blanket of sound. Someone whistles. Glasses clink. Lily lets out a happy, high-pitched squeal that’s completely uncharacteristic, even for her.

Sirius is already moving, bounding forward with a wide, blinding grin. “You’re joking–Reg, you–Merlin–” He grabs them both in a hug that’s too tight and entirely sincere, and for a moment, just a moment, you see it:

He’s just a brother again. Just a boy who’s happy his family is still here, still fighting for each other, despite everything.

And you?

You feel your chest tighten, not from sentiment, but from grim resignation.

Because of course this means you’ll be stuck with them now. The whole bloody Gryffindor brigade. Their parties, their dinners, their group trips. This is it. Your fate is sealed.

You sip your drink and quietly mourn the quiet life you might’ve had if Regulus had fallen for someone less… social.

Eventually, the chaos settles. People return to their drinks. Laughter bubbles in renewed waves. Sirius glances back at you once, as if checking to see if you’re still watching. You are. You don’t smile.

But after a while, when it’s safe and no one’s looking too closely, you make your way over to Regulus.

He looks pleased but a little wary as you approach, a mirror of how you must look to him.

You hug him wordlessly. He stiffens slightly at first, then relaxes, arms coming up around you like it’s instinct.

“Congratulations,” you murmur into his shoulder. “I'm happy for you.”

When you pull back, James is right there, practically buzzing with anticipation. His hands flap at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

You glance at him.

“Potter.”

He straightens like a soldier being addressed.

You offer a hand, then pull him in for a quick hug; brief, efficient. Then you step back and give him the barest of nods, voice even.

“Well done. And… Thank you. Really.”

You don’t elaborate, because you don’t need to. He knows what you’re thanking him for. For giving Regulus something he could never find in that house. Something impossible to him when he was young.

James beams so hard it’s almost blinding as you walk away. “Thank you–thank you. That means–bloody hell, Reg, did you hear that? She said thank you! Do you think she likes me now?”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “That’s as close as you’re ever going to get.”

Slipping away from the noise and the commotion of the room, you make your way to the far corner. You’re genuinely happy for Regulus and James – how could you not be? They’re in love, and after everything, they deserve this happiness.

The laughter from the party fades, but it’s soon replaced with a presence at your side. You don’t need to look up to know who it is.

Sirius’ voice is too smooth, too practiced. “Guess we’re stuck with each other now.”

“You know,” he continues, “Regulus is going to be busy now with all this wedding planning, and James will no doubt drag him off on some romantic getaway, If you want some company….” His voice drops to that teasing note, the one he’s been using for years. The one you think you hate.

You freeze, the words stinging in your chest more than you’d like to admit. You push him away, and he flirts. You try to ignore him, and he stays right there, playing that same game he’s played since school.

But not tonight. Tonight, you don’t have the patience.

“Don’t,” you snap, your voice sharp as you turn on him, eyes narrowing. “I’m not in the mood for your nonsense, Sirius. So go back to celebrating, and leave me out of it.”

Without another word, you storm out the balcony door into the cold night air, taking in a sharp breath. The crisp air bites at your skin, and for the first time since walking into the flat, you feel like you can breathe again.

Regulus watches you from the doorway, brows furrowed as he sees you storm off, leaving Sirius standing behind with his usual smirk wiped clean. Regulus watches for a few moments, unsure what just happened.

Then, with a quiet sigh, he steps away from the group and crosses the room quickly. “Sirius,” he calls out, voice low but firm.

Sirius, now with his hands shoved in his pockets, looks over at his younger brother, eyes wide as if he hadn’t expected Regulus to approach him. “What’s up?”

“What did you do?” Regulus asks, with a look of frustration crossing his face.

Sirius shrugs, unconcerned. “I don’t know, I just did what I usually do.  A Bit of fun, bit of flirting. You know how it is.” He offers a half-hearted grin, though it’s clear the spark of confidence has dimmed a little.

Regulus stares at him, his expression growing more grim with each passing second. 

“It’s obviously not just ‘a bit of fun’ to her, Sirius. Do you even realise what you’re doing? She’s not some game for you to play. If you’ve got feelings for her, stop pretending.”

Sirius falters. The grin fades from his face, leaving nothing but the barest hint of confusion and something else; something less confident, maybe even a little ashamed.

“I... didn’t mean to…” he trails off, his voice quiet now, not the usual sarcasm or arrogance that’s so typical of him.

“You never mean to, Sirius.” Regulus sighs, rubbing his temples. “So go apologise. I’m serious. And I mean really apologise. Not some half-arsed joke or charming line. Do it properly. Don’t make this worse.”

-

You're gripping the railing too tight, jaw clenched as the laughter from inside becomes muffled through the glass. It’s not just tonight, not just this moment. It’s years of build-up –years of Sirius acting like it’s all a game, while you’ve had to shoulder the consequences of things he walked away from.

You hear the door open behind you. Footsteps. Hesitant, for once.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stands there, as if waiting for you to acknowledge him.

You don’t.

Finally, softly, he says, “Hey.”

You laugh – low, bitter. “No charming quip this time? No pet name?”

“I’m trying to apologise,” he says, voice stiff like it doesn’t fit right in his mouth.

You turn to face him slowly, arching a brow. “Apologise? That’s new.”

“What is your problem?” he snaps suddenly, stepping forward. “Why do you hate me so much? I’ve tried. I’ve tried being nice, I’ve tried–flirting, joking, hell, I even asked Remus how not to be a prick, which he found hilarious, by the way. And it doesn’t matter what I do. You still look at me like I’m nothing.”

You stare at him, disbelief curling in your chest.

“My problem?” Your voice shakes with restrained anger. “You’re a coward, Sirius. Regulus might have forgiven you for what you did to him, but I can’t. I won’t. Because I remember. I remember how he didn’t sleep for weeks. How he flinched when someone said your name. How he nearly destroyed himself trying to be the son your parents wanted because you left him to deal with it alone.”

His eyes flicker, but you don’t stop.

“And you know what else? I remember how you treated me. Like shit. Like I was just another name to spit at because you thought I was everything you hated. Then you left and suddenly decided I was worth something? No. You didn’t want me, you wanted what I could give you – information. Access. Regulus.”

“That’s not true—”

“You used me, Sirius.” Your voice cuts clean. “And now you stand here wondering why I hate you?”

His face twists in frustration. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it?”

“I was a child!” he shouts, finally breaking. “I was a stupid, angry, scared kid who didn’t know how to love people properly, alright? I was sixteen and I thought running away would fix everything. And maybe it was selfish and maybe I was a bastard, but I didn’t know how to stay either!”

You stare at him, breathing hard. There’s a flash of something wounded in his voice – too raw, too real. But it doesn’t soften you. Not completely.

“I know that, Sirius,” you say, quieter now. “I know you were a child. But you’re not one anymore, even if you still act like you are. You flirt like it’s a joke. Pretend you’re interested like it doesn’t cost you anything. But it does, Sirius. It costs me. It’s pathetic.”

He looks like you slapped him.

The silence stretches between you, tense and ugly. The wind picks up, tugging at your clothes, biting your skin.

Sirius swallows hard. When he speaks again, his voice is different. Small. “I’m not pretending.”

You blink.

He looks away, jaw tight. “I’m not pretending with you. I never was. I know I started this whole thing trying to get to Reg, but that changed a long time ago. I don’t flirt with you because it’s funny. I flirt because I’m in love with you, and I know you’ll never love me back, and I don’t know how else to be close to you.”

The world goes still.

He breathes out, almost a laugh, but there’s no humour in it. “You hate me. I get it. You always will. But I’m not lying.”

You stare at him.

The words hang between you, heavy and terrible.

You should feel triumphant. He deserves this pain; you’ve wanted to see him brought low, haven’t you? Wanted him to feel some fraction of what you felt. Wanted him to understand that not everything can be laughed away, that some things don’t get fixed so easily.

But standing there now, in the sharp silence that follows his confession, you just feel…

Exhausted.

Like your bones have turned to glass under the weight of the years between you. All the resentment. All the words unsaid. All the what ifs.

You take a breath, then another, but it doesn’t help. Nothing helps, because suddenly all the anger is just a hollow thing with nothing left to burn.

“I didn’t ask you to love me,” you say, and it comes out sharper than you mean it to.

Sirius flinches like it’s a slap.

Hating the way your voice trembles, you add, “You don’t get to dump that on me like it’s my problem.”

“I’m not—” he starts, but you hold up a hand, cutting him off.

“No. Just stop.” You exhale, gripping the railing again just to keep your hands from shaking. “You say you’re not pretending, but it’s always been pretend, Sirius. Everything you do is a performance.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but this time you push forward.

“I’m not some fucking penance for you to serve,” you snap. “I’m not your apology to Regulus, or your punishment, or your proof that you’ve changed. I’m not here to make you feel better about the person you used to be.”

He takes a slow step toward you, eyes wide, something frantic blooming behind them. “I don’t think that. I don’t–fuck, I know I’ve messed this up. I know I don’t deserve you, but I do care. I care about you.”

You laugh, bitter and sharp. “And that’s supposed to fix everything? That you care?”

Sirius is silent. He looks like he’s about to say something, but you don’t give him the chance.

“Here’s the truth,” you say, voice low, cruel, because if you don’t kill this now, it might kill you instead. “If you really cared about me, you’d leave me alone.”

And that–that–finally silences him.

His expression shatters, something raw and devastated surfacing in his eyes. He sways where he stands, like you’ve taken the wind out of him.

“Right,” he says quietly, nodding once. “Right.”

And then, without another word, he turns and walks back inside.

You don’t follow him.

You stay on the balcony long after the door clicks shut, letting the cold bleed through your clothes until it numbs more than just your skin. You stand there and try to breathe, but everything tastes like regret.

Inside, the laughter picks back up, distant and warm and untouched by what just happened.

Your hands are trembling now, not from the cold.

He’s gone. You asked him to go. You meant it—didn’t you?

You cross your arms over your chest, curling in on yourself as the guilt begins to settle like dust.

You wanted to hurt him. You did hurt him. And now, standing in the aftermath, all you feel is;

Empty.

Because the truth you didn’t say—the one you couldn’t admit, even as he stood there practically begging for a scrap of hope—is that you don’t hate him. Not anymore. Haven’t in a long time.

You told yourself the resentment was righteous, that holding onto it was protection. But maybe it’s just been fear. Fear that if you let it go, you’d have to confront something worse: the fact that you wanted him to be sincere. That some part of you hoped he wasn’t pretending.

And tonight? He wasn’t.

You exhale shakily, bending forward and pressing your forehead against the railing.

Maybe you were right. Maybe none of this can be fixed with a confession. Maybe his love doesn’t change the past. Maybe he doesn’t deserve forgiveness.

But maybe neither do you. At least not after that.

Because if you're honest, truly honest, in that quiet, brutal way people only are with themselves when no one else is listening, you already know:

You’ll regret what you said tonight.

Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not next week.

But one day, you’ll think about the way he looked at you before he left and you’ll wish you had said something else.

Done something else.

Been someone else.

But by then?

He might finally be gone for good.

masterlist <3

[ariesthetouchdeprivedgirl]

Behind Closed Doors

Pt. 3

Smoke x Black!OC

Here is part three. I wanted to post it yesterday but it took me some time to write this chapter, sorry about that lol.. please excuse any typos or repetitive phrases, i’m still very new to this lol. But anyway, I hope yall enjoy this, and as always I appreciate the feedback and the love yall show me ❤️. Happy Reading!

The next morning was peaceful, like that quiet after a storm. Jane’s eyes fluttered open, sunlight spilling through the drapes, casting soft, golden streaks across the sheets. She turned, eyes settling on the man beside her. Smoke’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, quiet snores slipping past his parted lips.

She leaned into him, head resting against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat filling her ears. It was a sound she would never get tired of, given how rarely she’d come across it. She let the warmth of his skin, and familiar scent ground her.

For a while, she laid there, eyes closed, soaking in his presence, letting herself drift between waking and dreaming.

Smoke’s hand found her back, sliding up her spine in slow, absentminded strokes. Jane looked up, meeting his half-lidded, still heavy with sleep. A soft smile crept on her lips, lifting herself up to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Good morning baby.” She said affectionately.

Smoke’s lips brushed her forehead, hand slipping lower, giving her a playful tap on her bottom. “Go on, clean that mess up,” he grumbled, in his deep morning voice.

Jane playfully rolled her, reluctantly pulling herself away for his embrace. Stretching, she felt a pleasant ache in her limbs, a reminder of last nights tangled passion.

As she moved around the room, picking up slacks, shaking wrinkles out of shirts, and hanging hangers back up she heard the flicker of a lighter. Turning around she caught Smoke’s gaze as he took a long drag of a cigarette.

Jane gave Smoke a blank face, his smoking habit wasn’t her favorite, and it was way too early in the morning for that.

“Really Smoke, you just woke up.” She shook her head.

Smoke just smirked, eyes traveling up and down her naked body as he exhaled a thin stream of smoke.

“You know, I don’t like you smoking in the room.” She muttered.

Smoke leaned against the headboard, one arm draped behind him. “You’ll live.”

Jane scoffed, shaking out a pair of slacks before hanging them up. She felt his eyes burning her backside as she bent over to pick up another shirt. She smirked to herself, loving the feeling of his eyes on her body, especially in quiet moments like this.

Jane finished cleaning, grabbing her uniform from the closet and draping it over the chair. She reached into her drawer, fingers brushing over the soft lace and cotton that filled the drawer.

Her mind drifted to the night ahead. “I think wanna make dinner tonight.” She peaked at Smoke over her shoulder, a hopeful smile on her lips.

“Baked chicken, mashed potatoes, some long stem green beans. Ouh and I’ll make this gravy my granny taught me, it’s so good baby!” She chuckled to herself, sorting through her undergarments.

“Does that sound good?” Before he could answer she quickly added, “Or I could bring you a steak home from work.”

Smoke reached for his ashtray that sat on the nightstand, “I ain’t coming back tonight.” He stuffed the cigarette out.

The drawer slammed shut in the sudden silence. “Oh, um, tomorrow night then?” She asked, desperation lingering in her voice, the hopeful expression on her face slowly faltering.

Smoke pushed off the bed, rolling his shoulders back as he stretched. “I been gone from home too long.” His words lingered, settling heavy in the space between them as he strolled out the room.

Jane followed him like a lost puppy, clutching her fresh garments to her chest “Well.. when you gon be back?” She tried to sound casual, but the hurt leaked through.

Smoke twisted the knob, the sound of rushing water filling the bathroom. He turned back to her, noticing a look in her eyes, a silent plea of reassurance.

Without a word, he stepped closer, his hand reaching up to cradle her face. He pressed a firm, lingering kiss to her forehead, lips warm against her cool skin.

“Come shower with me,” he murmured against her hairline, his voice low, coaxing. “Ion wanna make you late for work.”

Jane nodded, dropped her undergarments into the bathroom sink, as she watched Smoke step into the steaming shower.

Jane grabbed her shower cap settling it on her head before joining him. The heat of the shower clinging to her skin before she even touched the water.

Smoke’s hands gripped Janet’s waist, gently pushing her against the cold tile. His lips found her neck, trailing a slow, teasing line from her jaw to her collarbone.

Jane’s head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as his rough hands slid up her sides, tracing the curves of her waist, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin beneath her breasts.

“Relax baby,” Smoke’s lips grazed her pulse, making her breath hitch. Tilting her head back further as his mouth moved to her jawline, biting softly.

Jane’s hands slid up his wet chest, her palms gliding over the taut muscles, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her touch. She clung to his shoulders as his mouth continued its slow, possessive exploration of her skin.

“Smoke,” she whispered, her voice breathless and needy, her nails digging into his back.

“Say it again,” he muttered, his deep, gravelly voice vibrating against her parted lips.

“Smoke,” she repeated, her fingers sliding up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

His mouth crashed against hers, hungry and demanding, the heat between them almost unbearable. Jane melted into him, letting the water cascade over their tangled bodies as his hands slid down to grip her thighs, lifting her off the ground and pressing her harder into the tile.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, a soft gasp slipping from her lips as he adjusted his hold, his lips moving from her mouth to the lobe of her ear.

Jane cried out, the sharp, but pleasant sting of Smoke stretching her out sending her mind and body into a dizzying frenzy.

The steam, the water, the heat of his touch, it all felt overwhelming, pulling her deeper into his orbit, where nothing else mattered but the way he felt against and inside her. He made her forget everything else.

35 minutes later, Jane sat at her vanity, fixing her hair and doing her makeup while Smoke buttoned up his waistcoat. No words were exchanged, both quietly preparing for the day ahead.

Smoke’s eyes caught Jane as she swiped a fresh layer of red lipstick across her lips, blotting them with a quiet smack. His gaze drifted to her unbuttoned dress, the soft lace of her bra peeking through.

“You look nice.” He broke the silence.

Jane rolled her eyes, snapping her compact shut. “I’m not even fully dressed.” She buttoned up her dress, catching the small laugh that slipped from his mouth. Jane smiled at the sound, turning around to face him, looking him up and down with admiration.

“So will I see you this week?”

Smoke glanced at her briefly, slipping his jacket on. “I’ll make time.”

Jane’s heart fluttered at the confirmation. She stood up, reaching for his hat and placing it in his hands. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she leaned into him. “I’ll miss you.”

Smoke pulled her close, reciprocating the hug. “You gon be good?” Jane nodded, leaning back to look up at him.

“Don’t keep that driver waiting,” he gripped her butt playfully. “Tired of his ass complaining.”

Jane laughed, swatting his arm. “Okay I won’t.” Smoke gave her a knowing look, “I promise.” She said bashfully.

Smoke placed that familiar kiss to her forehead causing Jane to feel warm all over her body. “I’ll miss you too.”

Jane wished for the moment to last longer, but with a final squeeze, Smoke stepped back, nodding once before walking out of the room and soon out the apartment.

It was a bittersweet goodbye, the kind that left the feeling of longing in her chest as she was forced to go on with her day, but she didn’t dwell for long. Her shift at Ray’s was coming up and she needed to prepare herself for the busy atmosphere that lied ahead.

She fixed herself up once more, grabbing her things and locking up. Her driver, Martin, was outside her building waiting for her, opening her door with his usual professional nod.

Jane settled in the car, playing with the hem of her dress, as her mind wandered for a moment. She thought about starting a conversation with Martin, just to fill the silence, but she knew better. He never really engaged, always offering short, curt answers that didn’t incite much more.

The silence in the car stayed, but Jane didn’t mind it. Sometimes it was easier to let her thoughts float. Allowing the hum of the city to be her only distraction.

Jane arrived at Ray’s just as the lunch rush was beginning. As she pushed through the back door, the noise chattering customers and pots clanging instantly forced her into work mode.

Bernice was at the counter, tightening her apron and checking order tickets when she noticed Jane.

“Hey Jane.” Bernice greeted her with a small wave.

Jane looked up, her small smile quickly fading. She had almost forgotten about the phone call, but seeing Bernice reminded her of everything.

“Mornin.” Jane hung up her coat on the hook and grabbed her apron to tie around her waist. She moved towards the counter, but could feel Bernice’s gaze on her, a lot more intense than usual.

“How you feeling.” Bernice asked cautiously.

Jane hesitated, Bernice was striking a nerve. The dull ache from those days crept back, forcing her to relive it.

“I’m good.” She gave a stiff smile, keeping it short. “Long morning.” She laughed, trying to brush it off as she adjusted her apron.

Bernice was clearly unconvinced.

“Did you talk to Smoke?” Bernice asked quietly.

Jane’s hands stuttered as she tied her apron, looking up at Bernice with a faux expression of confusion.

“You deserve better than that Jane, you’ve been through too much dealin with him.”

Jane eyes dropped, gritting her teeth as she tried to keep her irritation in check.

Bernice frowned deepened. “And I’m not tryna meddle I swear, I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

Jane took a deep breath before answering, her voice flat. “Ain’t no point in worrying Bernice. I’m fine, and so is he.”

“He ain’t what you think he is, you don’t know him like you think you do.” Bernice said with a low voice.

Jane shot a quick, irritated look at her. “And you do?”

“I only know what you tell me Jane.” Bernice replied softly.

“Look, I ain’t tryna tell you what to do or how to live, I just want you to know I’m here for you, as long as he’ll allow it.” Bernice added, words laced with bitterness.

Jane swallowed, catching the shady undertones from Bernice’s words but chose not to respond. She stood there for a moment, allowing the tension to simmer before giving Bernice a sharp nod.

“Thanks, but I’m good.” Her words biting as she turned and briskly walked to a table of new customers.

Bernice watched her go, saddened at the state of her friend. She hated seeing Jane so blind to the pain she was choosing to endure. She wanted more for her friend, but she can’t force Jane to see something she refuses to acknowledge. Jane would figure it all out on her own time.

As Jane finished up her shift the noise in the restaurant began to subside, only the soft buzz of conversations lingering in the air. She moved around the floor, clearing tables and delivering drinks to her last few remaining tables.

When she reached the counter to drop off a tray of glasses she noticed a customer sitting in her section. She had mistakenly m missed him while waiting on her current tables, she cursed herself for not noticing him sooner.

Notepad in hand she straightened her back and put on her customer service smile approaching his table. As she walked up she notice a furrow in his brows while he read the menu. She hoped and prayed it was from indecisiveness and not her tardiness.

“Hi sir, I’m sorry about that wait, what can I get for you?” She asked, trying her best to hide her exhaustion.

The man looked up at her, his gaze locking with hers. His lips curved into a warm, easy smile as he sat the menu down. “Don’t worry about it, I needed the time.” He said smoothly, his voice low and rich.

Jane’s smile softened, appreciative of his inviting demeanor. “Well how about a drink, on the house.”

He gave Jane a gracious nod, “That sounds great, something strong please.” Jane grinned and went to get his drink made.

“Here you are, now what can I get you to eat?” She asked as she sat the drink down.

The man glanced at the menu one more time then looked up at her, “I’ll have the house special, with an extra side of vegetables please.”

Jane subtly looked him up and down as she took his order, she tried not to make it obvious, but he noticed. A knowing smile tugged at the edge of his lips.

“Maybe some company as well.” He said handing her the menu, an air casual confidence surrounding him.

Jane’s eyebrows raised, a surprising smile on her face. “That wouldn’t be appropriate sir.”

She tried to maintain her professionalism tone, but she couldn’t help the light laugh that escaped her lips.

His eyes dropped to her hands as she took the menu, noticing her bare ring finger. “Wouldn’t it?” He smirked.

Jane followed his gaze, her pulse slightly rising. “I’m still on the clock.” She gave a playful smile as she turned to walk away.

As she made her way to the kitchen she could feel his eyes on her pushed it aside to focus on her task.

In the kitchen, she handed the ticket to the cooks and exchanged words with them while the meal was being prepared.

When she returned to his table with his food, his eyes never left her. “Here you are, everything look good?” Jane asked, sitting the plates in front of him.

“Looks great.” His warm steady gaze still on Jane.

Jane laughed awkwardly, the handsome man’s flirtation was working more than she’d like to admit.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” She tried to steer the conversation back to business.

“Just your time.” His pearly whites beamed at her.

Jane felt her face grow warm, “You say that to all your waitresses?” She asked placing her hands on her hips.

A charming laugh left his lips, “Only to the ones as beautiful as you. And it ain’t many.”

Completely flustered by his boldness, Jane laughed nervously. “Right.” She turned to leave but he gently caught her wrist.

“Wait, I’m sorry.” He said, laughing a little at his own audacity. “It’s just um.” He cleared his throat. “I think you’re beautiful, and I would love to spend some time with you. If you’ll allow me to.”

Jane was speechless, standing there in her momentarily speechless, mouth slightly ajar.

“Um, I can’t’. I’m sorry.” She finally managed to say.

The man’s smile softened, nodding his head in understatement. “No worries, just thought I’d ask. Would’ve spent the rest of the week beating myself up if I didn’t”

Jane gave him a small smile before turning to leave. Her thoughts were swirling, she felt his eyes on her still but couldn’t help but think of Smoke. She had forgotten what it felt like to be appreciated out loud. To be loved out loud.

She couldn’t even remember the last time Smoke had told her she was beautiful, or even given her the attention she craved.

It was always in private, always unspoken. He showed her love in his own way, but it was never loud, never in front of others like this man had done.

She took a deep breath when she got to the counter, hoping to shake the thoughts from her mind. She couldn't entertain feelings like these, especially not at work.

But Smoke had a way of pulling her back in. Every time she’d even think about walking away, he got her back in his grasp.

The sound of a her boss ordering people around snapped her out of her thoughts. She still had other tables left, and duties around the restaurant to take care of. Her confusing love life would have to wait.

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed your time here! Let me know your thoughts in the comments below 😊!

taglist:

@marley1773 @remmickcherie @rolemodelshit @keiva1000 @christinabae @jackierose902109 @fruitypebblesstuff @solarssins @thickemadame @melodyofmbaku @beautyspotsandsunnysmiles

[towasdandelion]

Can you also make a part two with sinostra frostheim and mortkranken with hickey smau?

👉👈

Yes! Here it is, the last part basically hehe. Hope you like it! Warning suggestiveeee

Sinostra, Mortkranken and Frostheim ghouls when they leave a hickey on you

Taiga... Do I even have to say anything? He treats biting you like a full time job. And he doesn't care about his surroundings either. You can be minding your own business taking a walk around the campus and he will just appear out of nowhere and bite your neck, getting a very embarrassing sound out of you. Shame? Not in his dictionary. So yeah, don't expect him to take your whining seriously in any way. It's not going to change anything whatsoever. But hey, at least he's usually careful enough not to hurt you with his sharp teeth!

Romeo will literally lie through his teeth. He always says how unhygienic and weird it is and how he would never bruise your skin like that but then somehow, mysteriously some marks appear on your neck. Naturally you just had to confront him about it. And behold, there's your one in a million chance to see Romeo embarrassed. He's annoyed with himself. Why couldn't he just resist? What was so good about it that made him think about doing it again? Well, I advise against teasing him too much or he will legit get upset. If it happens again don't bring it up either. Just accept his love bites.

Ritsu hmm I guess he would sneak one in here and there when he's feeling extremely affectionate. Or when you two are studying and he catches a glimpse of your exposed neck. He's not really embarrassed about it either. It's just one of the ways to express his love after all, so your reaction is a bit confusing. Oh, so it's about your image? You do have a point then. As the best lawyer, he cares about his appearance a lot after all. It won't really make him stop biting you though, no. He will just leave his love bites somewhere no one else can see them from now on.

Don't ask me why but I see Jiro being addicted to biting you. He just loves seeing and tracing the small bruises with his fingertips whenever it's just the two of you. He genuinely doesn't realize the effect he has on you. Affection is a normal part of every healthy relationship, isn't it? You could say it's very straightforward for him. He doesn't see the point in hiding anything. If he likes someone, he shows it - fair and simple. So long as you're okay with it, he won’t stop marking you with those subtle signs of how much he cares.

The "this is unsanitary!!" guy number two - Yuri. He swears he would never do something like that, adding how's there are many better ways to show affection. And yet... One day you see a small purplish mark on the back of your neck. (Yes he was trying to be sneaky hoping maybe you wouldn't notice it there) Let's just say he's less than pleased when you bring it up. It's just for science he says! (Science my ass he's just delusional and won't admit his desires for you) Well, he understands your embarrassment because he's pretty embarrassed himself. Probably won't do it ever again unless you reassure him it's okay. You should also promise him that you won't be bringing it up each time it happens.

Jin’s definitely an actions speak louder than words kind of guy, so marking you is right up his alley. He loves reminding you that you’re his whether it’s his hand on your waist everywhere you go, or draping his jacket over your shoulders like it’s second nature. Though his favorite is actually marking you. He doesn’t see why you’d get so embarrassed about it. To him, it’s just natural and instinctive. A quiet, physical way of saying mine without needing to say a word. And if you catch him glancing at it later with that faint smirk? Yeah, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Tohma usually goes for kisses rather than hickeys, so you might feel caught off guard when you notice a small mark on your collarbone peeking from underneath your unbuttoned shirt. Oh, so at least he was considerate enough to leave it somewhere a bit less visible. When you ask him about it later, he’ll just smile, asking you to show it to him. That one picture from you makes him sure - this is not going to be the last one. It’s rare for him to act like that, but now that he’s started? He’s definitely not planning to stop.

Lucas isn’t the type to act on impulse, especially not with you. He’s always measured, always gentle, so when you catch a mark low on your neck it genuinely catches you off guard. You send him a photo later, asking if he’s aware of what he left behind. He doesn’t deny it of course. He feels a little embarrassed getting exposed like that but that's something he can put aside. What he can't however is your reaction. He's hoping he didn't make you feel to uncomfortable or weird. What can I say, sometimes even someone like Luca will give in to his desires

Kaito is not exactly known for bold moves. Don't get me wrong he wants to make a move here and there but often he just.. chickens out, thinking its probably not a good moment. And so the tiny mark just under your collarbone unexpected, to say the least. He’s more the type to apologize for breathing too loud. You decide to confront him about your finding. The 'read' appears immediately but there's no reply. He's probably screaming into his pillow right now. Five minutes later your phone buzzes with a flood of texts - panicked, and awkward. He may be spiraling but deep down he’s also a little proud, smug even. Just too scared to admit it out loud.

[readreidsworld]

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky surprises you with a lazy Sunday date to the farmer’s market.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You’re still half asleep when a pair of warm lips press softly to your forehead. A low whisper follows. “C’mon, sweetheart. Up and at ‘em.”

You squint one eye open and groan dramatically. “Bucky, it’s Sunday. I was having a very intense dream about pancakes.”

He chuckles, his voice still raspy from sleep.

“Good thing I know a place with pancakes…and strawberries. Lots of strawberries.”

You blink your eyes open fully now, curiosity piqued. He’s already dressed in a cozy navy henley and jeans, his hair still a little damp from the shower. There’s a softness in his expression like he’s been waiting all morning just to see you smile.

“You’re being suspiciously cute,” you mumble, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

“That’s because I’m taking my best girl to the farmer’s market,” he says proudly, like he’s just announced a trip to Paris. “You’ve been working too hard. So today’s about fresh air, carbs, and me buying you flowers like a proper gentleman.”

You giggle, already melting.

The farmer’s market is in full swing by the time you arrive. It’s all sunshine and music, the kind of day that feels dipped in gold. Stalls line the sidewalks, overflowing with fresh produce, handmade candles, jars of honey, and bunches of wildflowers that smell like summer.

Bucky holds your hand the entire time with his metal one, which he’s always been self conscious about, you squeeze it every so often just to remind him you love every part of him.

He buys you a lavender lemonade and insists on carrying all the bags, even when his human arm is clearly full. You catch him sneaking glances at you when you’re distracted by a stand of succulents, his eyes soft and awe struck, like he can’t believe you’re real.

“Ooh, strawberries!” you exclaim, tugging him toward a small stall with the ripest berries you’ve ever seen. You sample one and your eyes go wide.

“Try this,” you say, holding one out to him.

He leans in and bites it straight from your fingers, his lips brushing your skin. “Sweet,” he says and you’re not sure if he means the strawberry or you. Probably both.

Later, you sit together on a bench, sharing a warm cinnamon roll and watching a little girl dance to a street musician’s violin.

“You were right,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “This was perfect.”

Bucky kisses your hair, letting out a content sigh. “Told you. You deserve soft days like this.”

And with the sun on your face, the scent of strawberries in the air, and Bucky’s hand laced with yours you start to believe him.

By the time you get home, the kitchen table is cluttered with bags of fresh produce and flowers. Bucky’s already rolled his sleeves up, revealing his forearms a sight you don’t mind one bit.

He gives you a playful look. “So…you really wanna make jam or were you just using it as an excuse to keep me here longer?”

You shrug, grinning. “Can’t it be both?”

Bucky laughs, pulling you in for a quick kiss before turning to the strawberries. “Alright, boss. What’s first?”

You spend the next hour slicing strawberries and sneaking bits to each other like kids. Bucky’s surprisingly meticulous measuring out sugar with the focus of someone defusing a bomb.

“Did you follow a recipe for this?” you ask, impressed. “Nope,” he says. “Just Googled ‘how to not screw up jam.’”

You’re stirring the mixture over the stove when he comes up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, arms slipping around your waist. He smells like sunshine and strawberries and cinnamon like home.

“This is nice,” he murmurs.

You nod, feeling your heart settle into something warm and safe. “Yeah. It really is.”

While the jam simmers and cools in jars, Bucky puts on a record an old jazz tune with a lazy, swaying rhythm.

He holds out a hand with a soft smile. “Dance with me?”

You take it without hesitation, letting him pull you close. The kitchen lights are low, and the world outside your windows is quiet. Your bare feet move slowly against the tile as he spins you gently, then pulls you back into his arms like he never wants to let go.

“You make everything feel so still,” he says quietly. You look up at him. “Still good or still boring?” “Still like peace,” he answers. “Like I don’t have to run anymore.”

Your chest aches in the best way. You reach up to touch his face, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear.

“You’re not running, Buck. You’re home.”

He kisses you again, softer than ever before, and when you pull away, his smile looks like something he hasn’t worn in decades like ease.

Later, you sit on the couch, tangled in blankets, passing a jar of fresh jam back and forth with spoons.

It’s too sweet. The strawberries are still warm. And Bucky keeps making a mess of himself.

But it’s perfect. Because he’s here. And he’s yours. And the rest of the world can wait.

[himasgod]

Can I request the first years finding out that their S/O is touch-aversed? She still loves them, she's just uncomfortable with being touched by other people.

FIRST YEARS X READER

Where you are touch-aversed

How would guys react if they tried physical contact with you, and you told them you are not comfortable with physical contact?

Epel had always felt like people underestimated him.

Too soft, too cute, too “girlish”—words that stung worse than a hex.

So when he started dating you, he was determined to prove he could be a strong n reliable partner. Not clingy. Not needy. Just dependable.

Except he also kind of wanted to hold your hand.

The idea kept floating in his mind. Every time you smiled at him like he’d just handed you the moon, every time you tucked your head when you laughed—it made him want to hold you close, just a little.

So one afternoon, after sneaking off to an apple orchard near Ramshackle, he reached for your hand as you stood beneath a tree. You gently stepped aside, not rude, just… careful. And Epel paused, hand mid-air.

“Ah… sorry. Did I mess up?”

“No. I just... don’t like being touched. Not really by anyone. It’s not about you.”

Epel blinked, lowering his hand slowly. He rubbed his neck, thinking.

“I see. That’s alright.”

You tilted your head. “Really?”

“‘Course. Granny always said that love ain’t about what you take—it’s what you give without expectin’ nothin’ back,” he said, voice a little quieter than usual.

You smiled, eyes a little wide.

Epel picked up a fallen apple and tossed it into his hand, smirking faintly. “I don’t need to touch you to know you care. You bein’ here with me says enough.”

He offered you the apple instead of his hand. You took it.

“Maybe someday, you’ll let me hold your hand. But if not, no big deal. I’ll just find other ways to make you feel special. Like teachin’ you how to climb trees or sneakin’ out with me for pie.”

You leaned into his shoulder—not quite touching, but close enough to count.

Epel flushed. “Whoa, okay, that’s kinda intimate for you, huh?”

You laughed. “I’m trying.”

He grinned, fiercely proud.

“You’re doin’ great. I’ll go your pace, always.”

Sebek prided himself on being the most dutiful boyfriend anyone could have. Protective, watchful, vocal about his admiration (often too vocal).

But subtlety? That wasn’t exactly his strongest suit.

So when you gently pulled away the first time he tried to offer his arm during a stroll around Diasomnia, he froze like someone had cast spell on him.

“You… recoiled?” he asked, stunned.

You winced.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just... not good with being touched. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Sebek looked like he’d been slapped with a wet fish.

“You mean to say you dislike physical closeness in general? Even from me?”

“Yes. But I still like you, Sebek. I just... express affection differently.”

He went quiet for once, lips parting and closing again like he didn’t know how to argue with something so… personal.

Then, after a long pause, he straightened his spine.

“Very well. If this is your nature, then I shall honor it to the fullest extent! Affection does not solely rely on touch!”

He cleared his throat, raising a finger dramatically.

“I shall serenade you with sonnets of adoration instead!”

You stared.

“Sonnets?”

“Yes! Glorious declarations of loyalty, recited from a safe distance!” he beamed.

You snorted, unable to help yourself.

“That’s... actually kind of sweet.”

“Of course it is,” he huffed proudly. “I am no crude brute. I am capable of restraint and—above all—respect.”

From that day forward, Sebek began to show his love with grand words, acts of service, and excessive praise.

He’d always ask permission before getting close, and though his voice was loud, his intentions were always gentle.

Jack wasn’t one for public displays of affection anyway. He liked his space, liked his quiet.

But when he started dating you, he found himself wondering what it’d be like to hold you—just once. Maybe sling his arm around your waist walkin side by side, something simple.

The first time he brushed your fingers and saw you recoil slightly, he froze mid-step.

You were quick to reassure him.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to react like that—it’s just... I don’t really like being touched.”

Jack stared for a second, ears twitching. “…Got it.”

You looked at him nervously. “Does that bother you?”

He shook his head slowly. “No. It surprised me. But I get it.”

You waited for more, but he didn’t speak right away.

Jack wasn’t the type to talk just to fill space. When he did finally speak, it was with quiet conviction.

“I don’t need to touch you to be close to you.”

You exhaled in relief, and Jack gave you a small smile.

“You’re important to me,” he said, looking straight ahead. “If that means showing I care by keeping my distance, that’s fine. I’ll be right here anyway.”

From then on, Jack would stand just close enough for comfort, always aware of your space. He’d open doors, carry your bag, walk you to class—even leave fresh bottles of water near your locker with your name written on them in neat blocky letters.

He didn’t say “I love you” out loud much—but you could feel it in the steadiness of his presence, the quiet loyalty in his gaze, and the respectful distance he never dared cross without your okay.

Ace had always been casual with touch.

Slinging his arm around your shoulder, ruffling your hair, poking your cheek when you pouted—it was all part of how he expressed affection. So when you flinched the first time he held your hand, his smile faltered for half a second.

He didn’t say anything right then.

You laughed it off quickly, and he let it slide.

But it started happening more. A subtle tense in your shoulders when he leaned too close. A quiet step back when he jokingly tried to pick you up. The realization came slow.

So one lazy afternoon, with you both sitting in Heartslabyul’s lounge after a round of magical history tutoring, he brought it up.

“Hey… can I ask you something?”

You looked up from your notes.

“Yeah?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes wandering to the roses outside.

“You don’t like being touched, do you?”

There was a flicker of guilt in your eyes, and you opened your mouth—but he was quick to wave his hands, sitting upright.

“Wait—don’t freak out. I’m not mad or anything! I just... wanna know if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You hesitated, but nodded.

“Yeah. It’s not about you. I just don’t like... being touched. It makes my skin crawl sometimes.”

He blinked, taking that in. No teasing grin. No smug quip.

“Okay. Thanks for telling me.”

You blinked. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” he said, grinning now but softer this time. “You think I’m gonna make you hug me if it makes you uncomfortable? I’m annoying, not evil.”

You laughed, a bit breathless, and he leaned back on his hands, glancing up at the ceiling.

“Still,” he added, tilting his head your way, “if there’s ever a way you do like affection—just tell me. I’m good at switching tactics, y’know. Might even start writing you love letters or something dramatic like Sebek.”

You giggled, warmth in your chest, and bumped your shoulder gently against his.

He looked shocked, then smug. “Hey—was that your version of a kiss?!”

“Shut up, Ace.”

Deuce wasn’t exactly the smoothest when it came to romance, but he tried. Maker, did he try. Carrying your books, pulling your chair out, offering you his jacket even when it wasn’t cold. He’d blush furiously every time—but your smile made it worth it.

But the one time he reached out to hold your hand after class and you instinctively pulled away, his heart sank.

He’d pulled back immediately, stammering an apology. You'd assured him it wasn’t personal.

But he’d spent the rest of the day racking his brain, worried he’d messed up somehow.

It wasn’t until the weekend—when you two sat by the Ramshackle steps, sharing snacks—that you brought it up.

“I’m not mad about earlier,” you said gently, watching the sky. “I just... I’m not good with physical touch.”

Deuce blinked, fingers tightening slightly around his sandwich wrapper.

“You’re not?”

You shook your head. “Even hugs or hand-holding. It’s not something I’m comfortable with. I still love being with you, though.”

He looked at you like you’d just handed him something precious.

“Okay,” he said softly.

You glanced at him. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean—yeah, I’d like to hold your hand and stuff someday. But it’s not more important than you being happy. I’d rather walk beside you without touching than make you uncomfortable.”

The way your lips parted made his cheeks turn red.

“I’ll learn what works for you,” he added quickly. “Like, if you like words better, or... if there’s something else I can do. I want to be someone who makes you feel safe.”

Your heart swelled, and you gently placed your hand over his—not quite holding, just a light touch of fingers.

He froze, eyes wide.

“Like that?” he whispered.

You nodded. “Sometimes.”

His grin was shy but proud, like he’d just passed the world’s most important exam.

From then on, Deuce never reached out without asking. He’d offer a hand with a quiet “Is this okay?” or send sweet notes folded into perfect rectangles. He still blushed every time you smiled at him. But more than anything, he was patient.

[astarioffsimpmain]

Late Night Thoughts wt. Lenore

♡

"This is so nice, Gale!" You exclaimed, eyeing the feast before you. You clasped your hands together and plodded over to the chair closest to you. Your cushion sat in the seat, waiting for you. "You remembered my cushion." It came out quieter than you had intended, but your smile could have cracked your face nonetheless.

"Of course I did," he said, walking up behind you. "I didn't want you to be uncomfortable here. It's quite a bit outside your normal seating routine, so I understand if you'd rather not attempt it or if it becomes too uncomfortable. I'll send us home immediately."

"I want to try." You spun around and grinned up at him, butterflies dancing in your stomach. He had done all of this... for you. This had to be a dream, and you didn't want to wake up early.

"Very well," he murmured, a smile of his own tugging on his lips. He gently closed his hands over both of yours and held them to his chest, and you wondered momentarily if he could feel your erratic heartbeat through them. "Let's get to our meal, shall we?" He asked after a beat or two of silence. "Wouldn't want the lasagna I made to get too cool! While I can reheat it with magic, it does tend to get a bit doughy the second time."

You giggled and nodded, breathing for the first time when he released your clasped hands since he had gathered them into his. You turned back to the table and lowered yourself into the chair gingerly. You smiled. It was going to work, at least for a while.

"Well?" Gale looked so concerned, God love him.

"It'll be great for now," you reassured him and chuckled when his expression morphed into a different question. "I'll let you know the moment I feel uncomfortable."

His shoulders dropped. "Thank you. I truly cannot bear the thought of you being uncomfortable or in pain, especially due to me."

"It wouldn't be your doing anyway, Gale," you chided lovingly. "My body has a problem. It would act this way whether you set this chair up or I did. Please don't blame yourself."

"I- yes, I know. I simply strive for you to feel comfortable at all times when you're with me." He paused, taking on a grin. "Call it my mother's training on Waterdhavian hosting manners kicking in."

You barked out a laugh, your hand making a sound as you slapped it over your mouth. "I think I'd like your mother," you tittered.

Gale’s eyes softened. "I'm certain she'd like you too."

~

Late Night Thoughts Series 💤 | Buy Me a Coffee ☕️

[hrtfelt4u]

heartstrings. | wonbin park.

044. be yours. (written portion)

“What’s the ETA for the others?” Wonbin asks you distractedly, turning into the parking lot of the release party’s nice venue.

You grab his phone to check, noticing all of your friends already at the location you’re now pulling into. 

“Looks like we’re the latest.” You say with amusement.

“Oh so now they want to be timely, huh?” 

You laugh, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek as he focuses on reversing into a spot. “You’re just mad because I didn’t let you delay us any further at mine. You can’t be late to your own party, you know.” 

Bin playfully rolls his eyes. 

“Well, I’ll have my way with you later then,” He pecks your lips after parking, eyes full of love, “Ready?”

“Yes, let’s do it.” 

You both exit the car, heading into the function. There’s a person to take your jacket at the door, and then Wonbin leads you in with a gentle hand on your waist. You’re looking around, searching for a familiar face and becoming nervous with the amount of influential people in the room. 

Of course, you knew Wonbin working for a very successful music label would warrant this type of crowd. It didn’t ease your anxieties about not fitting in as his plus-one though. 

Your boyfriend is quite well-known and is congratulated on his work as he revolves around the room, kindly introducing you to many people you’ve already forgotten the name of. You can’t make eye contact with artists you actually recognize, knowing the stress of being caught like a weirdo gawking would make your worries worse. 

After a small pause in chatting to people, Bin catches your eyes, stilling you. “What’s wrong, baby? Nervous?”

“A little. I just feel like I don’t fit in here.” You breathe out, still scanning the room. 

He pinches your chin, a small smile on his lips. “Love, you are perfect just the way you are. And you look beautiful, don’t worry about anything.” 

You nod, making an effort to believe him before your lips tucking into your mouth, gaze catching on someone over Wonbin’s shoulder. Your head immediately turns in surprise, mouth dropping with eyes wide. 

“Bin… you did not tell me Jay would be here.”

Wonbin makes a similar face to you, catching your ex across the room when he subtly turns. “Well… shit. I shouldn’t be surprised. Any producer with good connections would be here right now.” 

“Yikes…” You whisper, avoiding eye contact with him, “This is awkward, him seeing us here together. Especially after my last run-in with him.” 

Bin grins down at you, humor spreading on his expression. “Not any more awkward than my ex about to approach us.” 

“What?” You seethe out, about to whip around but Bin holds your elbow still. 

“Congratulations, Binnie,” Yujin slides in slyly, raising a glass of champagne with a saccharine voice. 

Wonbin belatedly reacts, choosing not to clink his nursing glass to hers, “To you as well.” 

She hums at his short response, her eyes going over to his arm over your form. “YN! Surprised to see you again! You look beautiful.” 

Internally, you’re bubbling with spite at the back-handed comment but know putting on an unbothered face is better for the situation. Wonbin opens his mouth to interrupt and put her in her place but you just grip his arm tighter to stop him.

“You look gorgeous as well.” 

“Thanks! There’s lots of friends and family around. A bunch of cool artists too. Let me know if you want me to introduce you to anyone.” 

You only nod, hopefully this woman would get the hint you don’t fuck with her. Yujin continues to hold Wonbin capture in conversation, promptly ignoring you. You would continue to be bothered by it but you notice Jurin and Anton’s figures from across the room. 

You thank the higher powers above, excusing yourself with Wonbin reluctantly letting his hold on you go when you gesture to them across the room. His subtle face of being betrayed and left alone makes you laugh a little as you walk away, knowing he’d be whining about it later. 

You’re grateful for the reprieve, taking a deep breath to grab another flute of champagne. Jurin and Anton give hugs in greeting, gesturing grandly behind them at the big table of appetizers. 

“Oh thank goodness there’s food. I need to stress eat.” You giggle, beginning to make a small plate for yourself. 

“You’re not alone. Hannie’s stuffing his face in the corner.” Tonie points to your mutual friend, doing said thing while conversing with someone. 

“What’s he to be worried about? I’m stressed because I just met Ravyn Lenae. He’s practically rubbing shoulders with celebrities on a daily basis.” “You’re dramatic,” Jurin rolls her eyes, “It’s because he spotted Gaeul here as Yujin’s plus one. He’s more eating away his angry words.” 

“Oh, don’t remind me,” You shove a cracker in your mouth, “I just abandoned Binnie in Yujin’s company. I can’t stand her fake politeness, knowing she’s tried to get back with him whilst knowing my existence.” 

“Are you going to say anything to her? Heard she’s been flirting with your man.” Tonie teasingly sings, bumping your shoulder. 

“No, why would I? If he was that easy to steal, she could go ahead. Besides, I’m pretty confident Wonbin despises her more than I do at this point.” 

You lead their gaze to your boyfriend afar, his expression bordering on full annoyance. 

“Way for the tides to change. I don’t know why I ever told that girl Wonbin was single.” Jurin murmurs, taking a big sip of her drink. 

“You could say the same about Gaeul and Hannie,” Tonie mumbles, “Speaking of, who did our charming boy come with?”

Instantly, a smug smile grows on you and Jurin’s faces, contributing to Anton’s confusion. 

“Oh, you’re gonna get a kick out of this.” You laugh.

As if on cue, Sohee appears exiting a hallway from the bathroom. Your co-worker is dressed impeccably, seeing as you’ve never seen your friend attend an occasion in a suit. He approaches his date, throwing an arm over Seunghan’s shoulder with a silly smile and a whisper in his friend’s ear. 

The two are clearly here for a little prank, teasing Gaeul by the bar who keeps looking over to the two, a mix of bewilderment and shock written in her body language. 

Anton is cracking up, almost spilling his drink all over the floor. You and Jurin join in when Sohee and Hannie purposefully kiss each other’s cheek to really sell this whole joke of them being together. Anyone that knows them well enough can read through all this to see Sohee is hating every second under his breath.

“And I thought Channie was the worst when committing to bits. This is another level.” Jurin sighs out, holding her stomach from laughing too much. 

“I think they should kiss on the lips to really sell it.” You smirk, hiding your expression behind your flute of champagne. 

Sohee finally notices your arrival, quickly tugging Seunghan up from his seat and bidding goodbye to their company. 

“Surprise, surprise.” Sohee sings, dapping up Tonie.

“He is way too giddy to be here right now.” Hannie mumbles, shaking his head. 

Jurin tugs on Hannie’s arm to toss it over Sohee’s shoulder, “C’mon boys! Really give off boyfriend vibes right now.” “I was just saying earlier, I think you two need to kiss to sell it.” You squint at the two, shoving at Sohee. 

Hannie purses his lips, about to lean in but the latter panics, jerking away like he’s about to touch fire. 

“Too much, man! God, the things I do to get a glimpse at PinkPantheress…”

“Aw, you’re not just here for me? I’m hurt…” Hannie pouts in joking.

“Did you see a while back that Channie tagged Yujin and Gaeul on one of your dumbass tweets?” Tonie mentions with humor. 

Hannie only shrugs, clearly unbothered. “Meh. On the topic of exes, I saw He Who Must Not Be Named wandering around earlier.” 

“Ah, Jay?” Jurin raises a perfect brow at, “Is that why he’s floating around us like Casper the Ghost?” 

You finally notice his presence, lost as to what his deal was. At your observance, he finally comes over.

“Having a good time, everyone?” He asks politely, everyone putting on a nice expression at his bravery to walk over. 

Multiple of you reply with meek responses, Jay and Seunghan starting to converse about their work. Sneaking up, Sion scares Jurin from behind, forcing the latter to slap him on instinct. 

“Where have you been?” Tonie urgently whispers. You’re lost as to why he’s so concerned and it shows his face.

“ He’s my plus one. Juria rejected the poor guy. Sion answers your silent question, promptly ignoring his best friend’s question. 

“I did not get rejected. She said no because we’re not together and that it would’ve been weird if I brought her along.”

“Oh really?” Sion purses his lips, “That’s news to me! What have you two hooligans been doing anyway? Lollygagging about, toeing between the lines of dating and not?” 

“You’re insufferable. Leave the two alone.” You muse, heavily entertained at Sion’s confrontation while you lean on his shoulder.

“What? Aren’t you curious too?” Sion peeks down at you, “These two will give me an aneurysm by age 30.” 

“Mind your own business. Besides, I’d wait for a millenia for her if need be.” Anton shrugs, his true feelings reflecting through with the big grin on his cheeks.

“Impossible to mind my business given the nature of this friend group. And by the way, you’re a lovesick loser.” Sion simply states. You nod to back him up, Anton’s eyes going between you two with blinking eyes. 

“Now I understand why Wonbin tries to keep you two apart.” 

“Ridiculous. My Binnie poo would never try to separate me from my twin.” Sion gasps. 

Seunghan and Jay have stopped talking, the latter interrupting your guys’ discussion to speak to you. 

“YN! How have you been?” 

Taken aback on his confidence to speak to you, you give a small smile, lost on how to respond. 

“... Good! How about you?” 

“Been doing alright. Hope you’ve been well since the last time I saw you.” 

Your jaw shifts, nodding deliberately slowly. “Right… yes. I’ve been doing great.”

“Oh, she has been.” 

Wonbin comes up from behind, a fake smile plastered on his features following his words. He kisses your cheek to send a message. 

“Happy to see you again, Jay.”

He doesn’t respond, making strong eye contact with Wonbin before decidingly walking away. Jurin whistles low, shoving at Binnie’s shoulder after. 

“You are heartless.”

“I’m actually curious,” You chirp, smiling softly up to your boyfriend, “What did you say to him last time?”

“Well, he asked me how I knew you,” Wonbin notes, curling a piece of hair behind your ear softly, “And I told him that we’re talking. He accused me of playing with your heartstrings, given my reputation.”

You scoff. “That’s rich of him.” 

“Exactly. I said I’d treat you better than he ever would, and the next time we’d meet, I’d be yours.”

You roll your eyes at his confidence. “You’re lucky you’re right, you know? Otherwise your next run-in with him would’ve been really embarrassing for you.”

“I am very lucky.” 

“Get a room, you two!” Sohee squawks, pretending to gag. 

Bin simply grabs a cracker from your plate and eats it, a smug smile on his lips. “God forbid a man appreciate his amazing catch of a girlfriend.” 

“Boo!” Sohee moans, throwing up a big thumbs-down towards the both of you until Hannie wrangles him in by the neck. “Why are you jealous? Your amazing boyfriend is right here!” Hannie giggles, forcing him closer for another kiss on the cheek. 

Sohee only bares his teeth and accepts his fate. “I refuse to be humiliated like this ever again.”

You all laugh, enjoying each other’s company. As everyone converses, your anxieties lessen, and you know you should be thanking the man by your side. Looking up to Wonbin, he’s grinning while listening to your mutual friends. 

He’s practically radiant, glowing compared to everyone else in the room and a sense of pride in his accomplishments grows in your chest. Many other people have worked hard alongside him here but you’ve seen Wonbin’s dedication the most. 

You tuck into his side more, giving your lover a tight squeeze. He glances down to you, as always, noticing your shift in mood and grinning. 

“You okay, pretty?”

“By your side? Always.”

___

(ignore timestamps unless stated otherwise)

author's note: we're wrapping up soon :') so crazy that it's almost over...

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pls comment, dm, or send an ask to join/leave the taglist.

(c) hrtfelt4u 2025

[the-camp-half-blood-library]

Hey! I’m sorta new to fanfic but have loved PJO for a long time now. I was wondering if you have any good fanfic recommendations for Will Solace x Nico di Angelo?

I’m not sure what tags are so sorry I don’t have any to request, but I’m up for anything! Just no spice/sex scenes please!

Hey there! We've found fics from a variety of tags for you -- and these are all fairly popular fics, just to get you started! And if you'd like to learn more about tags and what they mean, I'd suggest the Archive's information page for more. That being said, here are the fics -- sorted by genre/main tag. Mind the other tags!

Angst

Happy Anniversary, Solace by InfectedToad_Mousiepaws

In which Will breaks down on the anniversary of the Battle of Manhattan.

run that body down by @ikeasharksss

"Not how long,” Will continues, “just how. I’m not interested in a time frame, I’m interested in exactly what would have to happen for people to notice that Will is gone."

The Demi-God Who Wouldn't Eat by Salmonellas__House

[no summary] A/N: Hii! This is totally different from my normal fics cause it’s pretty much just a vent. Which also explains why it’s not very good. Whoops! And please don’t read this if you think it’ll trigger you. Cause I think I triggered myself a couple times 🥲

Hurt/Comfort [mod note: yes, these are often cross-tagged with angst, for the purposes of this post I'm doing three different fics for each tag!]

give me another chance (i wanna grow up once again) by @alltheglowingeyess

“Ah, Mr. di Angelo. What can I do for you?” Chiron asks, his voice warm. Nico feels a sudden wave of embarrassment wash over him as he glances down at the smuggled plate. “I, uh, was looking for Will. Kayla and Austin too. I didn’t see them at breakfast, so…food.” He gestures vaguely at the plate, briefly considering the repercussions if he were to chuck it out the nearest window. Chiron’s eyes crinkle with amusement at Nico’s complete inability to function like a normal demigod, though his expression quickly flickers to something more serious, almost sad, at the mention of the three siblings. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Unfortunately, our Apollo campers are out for the day.” Nico frowns, rolling a grape between his fingers absently. “Like, they are on a supplies run?” Chiron shakes his head. “No, they’re still at camp. They’re just… on leave for the day.” Nico’s frown deepens. “On leave? All of them?” Chiron nods. “While I know they are eager to work, I decided it is for their benefit they take this week off, seeing as it will be a difficult one. So, I’ll be handling the infirmary duties until next Monday.”

A Full Cabin Seven by @because-youre-a-person

And that's when Will burst into tears. Right there, standing in the doorway of a full-to-capacity Cabin 7, trying to stifle his sobs in the sleeve of his jumper. Four years after the devastating Battle of Manhattan, Will comes back after a long shift in the infirmary to a cabin where every bed is taken. And it is oh-so bittersweet.

Since There is No Me Without You by @thebiscuitbread

He wasn’t sure what was happening. Standing awkwardly with his arms raised in a don’t shoot kind of position, he tried to assess the situation. Nico was pressing him harder into the wall, furiously holding him close and kissing him. or will gets woken up and nico aggressively makes out with him but then will's like "dude what is going on" and nicos like "i had a nightmare :("

Fluff

I'm waiting for it, that green light, I want it by Pondbox

Jason, Will, and Nico all consult Reddit on what to do about Nico and Will's relationship instead of communicating with each other like regular people. r/AmITheAsshole AITA for going to attempt professing my love to my straight best friend? u/sonofapollo r/advice Just realized I am gay and in love with my best friend. u/theghostking

My coffee black in my bed at three by sunnyy_days

Nico and Will spend a morning together, cuddling and wrapped in warmth.

'til we were dead and gone and buried by kidmaiok

Will Solace is a coward. Will Solace is a coward, or at least that’s what everyone says. He’s terrified of lots of things, most of all he’s afraid of death. Or A journey to Will and Nico’s first kiss.

Alternate Universe

paper hearts (we’re burning matches) by @wordsofasarcast

Where Will constantly complains about the medical inaccuracies in Nico’s books but has never bothered to look at the ‘About the Author’ page to know exactly who he’s complaining to.

a sweet tooth for you [series] by thebhorror

Nico works in a bakery and is determined to make Will fall in love with him his baked goods

Behind the Screen by Whiteout_creations

Nico and Will are boyfriends. Nico is a streamer while Will is med student working at a hospital Will stays out of Nico's steams most of the time. But Will has a bad day while at the hospital and walks in while Nico's streaming.

We hope we've found some good fics as jumping-off points for your reading journey! Leave kudos, leave a comment, and happy reading!

-Mod 2

[reijisteacup]

This might’ve been asked before, but diaboys whose sacrificial bride smiles/laughs when she gets nervous?

I do this too...awee bless readers heart <3

========================================================================================================

Sakamaki's

Shu Sakamaki:

At first, he’s indifferent—he thinks you’re just mocking him or being flaky. But when he realizes it’s a defense mechanism? He loves how psychologically complex that is. The idea that you’re forcing a smile when terrified? Deliciously tragic. He might purposely put you in uncomfortable situations to watch you squirm behind that nervous grin.

“Smile again… yeah, just like that. What are you so afraid of?”

Reiji Sakamaki:

He hates it. To him, emotions—especially fear—should be shown with dignity. Your laughter feels like a mockery of his authority. He’ll try to correct you with harsh punishments or scoldings until he realizes it's involuntary. Then it turns into a twisted form of fascination.

“You’re trembling, and yet you laugh. Are you broken, or simply trying to deceive me?”

Laito Sakamaki:

Laito knows what that kind of laughter means. He recognizes it instantly and finds it intoxicating. It reminds him of corrupted innocence and fractured purity. He’ll get extremely close in those moments, cooing things like,

“Nfu~ You’re so scared, but you’re still smiling? How erotic… Do you want to be broken that badly, Bitch-chan?”

Kanato Sakamaki:

Instant rage. He’ll take it personally. Your smile in tense moments reminds him of betrayal and insincerity—especially with his mother. He’ll scream, cry, or lash out. “Are you happy? Is it funny when I hurt you?!” If you survive the fallout and manage to explain yourself, he may become obsessed with making you smile “for real” instead—by force, if needed.

Ayato Sakamaki:

He gets super defensive. He thinks you're laughing at him, and his pride gets in the way. “Oi! What’s so funny?!” But once he figures out it’s just your nervous tic, he lowkey finds it adorable. He’ll tease you constantly to make it happen again, until he starts associating it with you being uniquely his.

“Chichinashi, only I get to see that messed up laugh of yours.”

Subaru Sakamaki:

Subaru gets confused and flustered. He’ll probably yell—“Tch, don’t laugh like that! I know you’re scared!”—because he doesn’t know how to comfort you without breaking something. Eventually, he realizes that smile is your shield. He becomes extremely protective, rough with others but gentle with you, warning: “You don’t have to fake it around me. Just… don’t lie with your smile.”

Mukami's

Ruki Mukami:

He sees right through it. He’ll call you out coldly, almost clinically. “Your smile is empty, Livestock. A lie. Do not insult my intelligence.” But he secretly enjoys watching you squirm—your mask is fascinating to him. Over time, he may grow emotionally attached to that fragility, seeing your laughter as an unfortunate but precious crack in your psyche.

Kou Mukami:

Oh, he lives for it. You’re basically a walking contradiction, and he loves contradictions. The way you smile while trembling? It’s good enough to photograph. He’ll poke at you on purpose, pushing buttons just to see that forced grin.

“Aww~ That’s the best expression yet, M Neko-chan! So scared, but still smiling for me… Should I push you until that smile cracks?”

Yuma Mukami:

Yuma is baffled. “Huh? What the hell are ya smilin’ for?!” He assumes you’re making light of things. But once he learns the truth, he’ll act tough while becoming very soft on you. He starts cracking dumb jokes when you’re overwhelmed, trying to replace your fear with real laughter.

“Tch… ain’t no need to fake it, Sow. You can cry if you need to. I’ll be here.”

Azusa Mukami:

Azusa understands it better than anyone. He does the same thing—smiling when hurt, giggling through pain. He instantly connects to it and starts comforting you in his own eerie way. “You smile… like I do… when it hurts… It’s okay… I like your smile… even if it’s broken…” He becomes incredibly protective, whispering affirmations when he sees you use that smile to cope.

Tsukinami's

Carla Tsukinami:

He finds it irritating at first—he values control, seriousness, and truth. But once he understands the root, he becomes unusually patient. “You wear a mask even in the face of death. How human.” He starts to respect your willpower, even if it’s misplaced. He’ll test you often, seeing how long the smile will last before you break or surrender.

Shin Tsukinami:

Initially mocks you for it. “Pfft, are you laughing? You’re weird as hell.” But after realizing it’s a trauma response, his interest shifts. He starts studying you like prey, loving the psychological contradictions. “You’re fun to play with… That shaky smile’s better than any scream.” If he falls for you, though, he’ll get weirdly possessive about being the only one allowed to see that vulnerable smile.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Seventy Percent (Castiel)

Summary: Castiel feels a warmth he must share with you.

Warnings: Fluff

WC: 906

Read on ao3!

Prompt: "I am approximately 70% asleep right now, and you are interrupting my process." used from this list

The bunker was finally quiet.

The hunt had been long, ugly, and covered in mud. You’d helped gank a banshee, stitched up Dean’s shoulder, convinced a witness not to call the cops, and barely escaped a shower of broken glass. The post-hunt adrenaline had long since burned off, and by the time you finished the last load of laundry, your body ached in places you didn’t even know could ache.

All you wanted was to be horizontal.

Your bed welcomed you like an old friend, and the cool sheets pulled you into a soft, gentle embrace. You’d just sunk into that perfect sweet spot between wakefulness and unconsciousness—the mythical 70% zone—when:

FWUMP.

The unmistakable sound of wings filled the room. A breeze brushed your cheek, and the air shifted.

You didn’t even open your eyes. “Castiel…”

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” came his deep, even voice from far too close to your face. “But this is important.”

You groaned. “Cas. My guy. My ancient celestial being.” You turned your face into the pillow. “I am approximately 70% asleep right now, and you are interrupting my process.”

A pause. “What process?”

You finally lifted your head just enough to glare blearily at him. He was perched on the edge of your bed like a confused gargoyle, trench coat still buttoned up, hands folded in his lap.

“The process of falling asleep,” you mumbled. “It’s delicate. It’s sacred. And you’re stomping around in it like a moose.”

He blinked, unoffended. “I see.”

You dropped your head again, sighing. “Okay. You have one minute. What’s so urgent?”

Castiel shifted slightly on the bed, clearly troubled. “There is a sensation in my chest.”

You blinked, then slowly raised your head again. “…Is it a heart attack? Because if it’s a heart attack, I need more than a minute.”

“No. I don’t believe I’m dying.” He placed a hand flat over his heart. “It feels like… fluttering. But also heavy. I observed it happening when I looked at you earlier. You were asleep on the library couch, and I found myself...unable to leave.”

Your sleepy brain tried to catch up. “You watched me sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Cas…”

“I didn’t stare,” he added quickly. “I just… stayed. In case something tried to harm you.”

Your tired heart melted just a little. “Okay, well. That’s kinda sweet. But why are you here now?”

He tilted his head. “Dean says the sensation may be affection. Or possibly indigestion.”

You laughed, curling into your blanket. “It’s not indigestion. Sounds like a crush, Cas.”

“A crush?” he echoed.

“A crush,” you said, yawning. “Or maybe more. You feel safe when I’m around, yeah?”

He nodded.

“And you care what happens to me?”

His expression softened. “Very much.”

“Then congrats. You’re in love.”

Castiel sat with that for a long moment, then blinked slowly. “Oh.”

You grinned into your pillow. “Yeah. ‘Oh.’”

“Would you like me to leave?” he asked carefully. “I’ve disturbed your sleep process.”

You reached out a hand without even opening your eyes. “No. Come here.”

He hesitated for half a second, then stood and peeled off the trench coat with almost reverent slowness before climbing under the covers beside you.

You immediately tucked yourself into his side, head on his chest, hand fisting the soft fabric of his henley. He was warm—not exactly body heat, but some kind of internal grace-temperature—and solid. Safe.

“This is nice,” he said, sounding slightly stunned.

“You’re nice,” you murmured. “But I swear, Cas, if you start glowing or angel-radioing while I’m asleep…”

“I won’t,” he said solemnly.

And just as you were drifting again, 80% there, the door creaked open.

Dean stood in the doorway in flannel pajama pants and a ratty Zeppelin tee, hair rumpled. He froze like a man who’d just walked in on something sacred and illegal.

Castiel didn’t move. He merely looked over at Dean and said, “She invited me into the bed.”

Dean opened his mouth. Closed it. Raised a finger. Lowered it.

“…Okay, that’s… cool,” he said finally. “Just, uh. Keep the angelic mojo at PG levels, alright? This ain’t a Harlequin novel.”

“Dean,” you mumbled without opening your eyes, “if you say one more word, I’m getting Sam and telling him you sleep with a teddy bear named Zeppelin.”

Dean scowled. “You’re evil.”

“Goodnight.”

He muttered something about ‘damn cosmic beings stealing all the women’ before slinking back into the hallway.

Five minutes later, you heard another knock.

“Cas?” Sam’s voice called softly. “Dean said you’re in bed with Y/N. Is that… real?”

Castiel didn’t miss a beat. “It is. I am currently participating in a ‘sleepover cuddle scenario.’”

There was a brief silence.

“…Good for you, man,” Sam said, and you could hear the genuine warmth in his voice. “She deserves someone who’ll protect her like that.”

Castiel looked down at you, just as you murmured, “You hear that, angel boy? Even Sam ships us.”

He smiled, the expression soft and full of wonder. “Then I am most fortunate.”

You yawned and melted further into his arms. “Next time though… maybe declare your eternal love after I get to 100% asleep, okay?”

“I will take that into consideration,” he whispered, then pressed his lips gently to your forehead.

And this time, you slipped past 70%, past 100%, into perfect sleep—with an angel wrapped around you like the safest blanket in the world.

--

//PLEASE USE THIS AS A REMIDNER TO REBLOG! \\

[sonic-takeover]

Shadow it's okay, they even followed your no kissing rule for today dude. Silver's happy, isn't that a good thing? And he even picked someone who Sonic knows well enough to trust. Just cool your jets. They both like each other and they went on a nice date to confess; this is the normal expected outcome. They just don't have as much baggage between them as you and Sonic did, but that's a good thing for them. You should be happy for them. Espio is also totally respecting Silver's boundaries so it's all very nice and chill and he doesn't deserve a beating. 😅

Silver has only known of his feelings for a few days. I won't let Espio take advantage of that. *He reaches the clearing, eyes narrowing when he sees Espio laying on the blanket, his hands behind his head. Silver is up in the tree above him, laughing and talking to him as he lounges into the branches. They look... Happy. Shadow hesitates for just a moment. He stumbles as Amy shoves past him to stand between him and the happy couple, her piko hammer gripped in her hands. She glares at him*

Not one more step, Shadow!

*Shadow glares at her, squaring his shoulders* Amy. What are you doing here?

*She points her hammer at him* I'm here to stop your reign of heartbreak. You can't get in the way of love!

Oh please. You watch too much romance crap.

*Amy gasps dramatically* You love romance crap! How dare you!

I know. Which is why I know you watch too much of it. I'm here to keep them from going too far.

They don't need that, Shadow! Look! They're happy!

.... I can see that. But I must make it clear to Espio that-

Shads!

Chaos..

*Sonic stops next to him, grabbing his arm* Dude, stop. I know you're trying to give Silver the parental experience you never had, but he doesn't need or want that. Not like this.

.... Oh.. You see yourself in Silver, don't you..

No! Shut up! *He pulls his arm from Sonic's grip* Go home. You shouldn't be up, and you especially shouldn't be running.

Nah, the anons healed me. It's fine. *He looks over at the date. His expression melts into a smile* Aww.. Cute, hah..

Right? They're such a cute couple!

*Shadow grumbles under his breath, grabbing Sonic's hand and marching back the way he came*

Woah- Babe, what..?

You want me to let him get hurt, I'll let him get hurt. I'm not gonna stand here where they'll see us.

*Sonic watches him for a moment, then laces his fingers with Shadow's* He'll be okay, babe. He may be a sweetie, but he's not an idiot. If he needs advice, we're here. That's the best we can do.

..... I suppose.

Mhm! *Amy runs over to walk alongside them* It's sweet you care so much, Shadow. I'm sure Silver is really grateful. But it's okay to let him move forward, even if it's scary.

... When I first fell for Sonic.. *He glances at Sonic, who smiles at him* I didn't make any moves. For years. And I'm glad I didn't, because if I had, I would have embarrassed myself. It was important for our relationship to take it slow.

*Sonic kisses the back of Shadow's hand* Yeah, it was. We needed time to figure out the difference between rivalry and love. But they don't have that. They don't need that time, they already know the difference.

.... True...

*Amy bumps her shoulder into Shadow's* I think you just like getting to act like a dad~

*Shadow casts her a glare*

You'll do great when you and Sonic get kids of your own someday~ Hehe~

*Sonic chokes on air, coughing. Shadow rubs his back. His ears are red* Enough, Amy. Go home. Sonic is feeling better, so we're going to race.

Ack- Ugh.. Yeah. Gotta stretch my legs. Thanks Ames.

No problem you two~ Have fun! *She giggles and runs ahead*

..... Gaia help us..

Mhm..

[rileys-battlecats]

Hope i did him justice, also added what i used for references in the corner :>

YOOOOOO ITS MY LITTLE GUYYYY this looks amazing!! Thank you for drawing him!!!

[sskk-manifesto]

ಥ‿ಥ

[hp-lonesome-actual-art]

Another batch or Mr. Puzzles quick sketches. I kept forgetting to draw his side pocket in the last couple ones. Random character featured in the little comic-ish Live Interview is some version of doodlesona. Can’t guarantee the dialogue will be believable/sound in character for Puzzles because honestly I’m still working on understanding his talking style and when he sarcastically jokes around or when he chooses to be serious and drop performance act. But in the off chance you wanna read it goes from left to right with reading

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

hate how im now at a point where im legit like kicking my legs and grinning like an idiot over fictional characters SEND HELP