#I need to know if he's alright and with his family

[gummygowon]

hands? | jeong yunho

word count: 2.8k

genre: smut sprinkled with crack and a dash of angst and fluff, close friends to ???, friends!yunho x afab reader

warnings: reader has slight body insecurities + bro's fingers just go crazy tbh

author's note: guess who's back. but on a fr note please be nice this is my first oneshot in a fat fucking minute after this godamn cb i needed to write something about someone omfg.

"y'know shigaraki's hand thing would lowkey be kinda hot if he wasn't so crusty." one of your friends, wooyoung comments on the anime's villain.

"what the-"

"you're kinda on something." you agree as you tilt your head watching shigaraki fight deku with one of the hands on his face.

you look back on the couch to see your other friend yunho sitting back looking horrified while wooyoung raised his soda can as a 'thank you' for agreeing with him.

"let me get this straight, you think the tomura shigaraki, the fucking villian in my hero academia is hot? the one with his literal deceased family member's hands all over his body?" yunho asks still horrified at your comments.

"okay, well not when you put it like that." you huff in fake annoyance.

"so what the hell is hot about him?"

"hands! the hands yunho!" wooyoung jumps in and answers as if it's the most obvious thing.

"okay...what about hands?"

"it's like a niche thing some people find hot on others." you explain trying not to out yourself as a hands freak. but lord, jeong fucking yunho had the most beautiful hands out there. they're long and slim and his hands are huge. his hands are just amazing at pc games.

"yeah, haven't you seen y/n checking your hands out when you play val?" wooyoung adds, his eyes not even leaving the tv.

you throw your hands up in defense, "now why am i catching strays?"

"am i not wrong?"

"ok ok, i get it. hands are hot-"

"-thank y-"

"-and y/n finds my hands hot." yunho adds with a devious smirk earning a chuckle from wooyoung.

"alright! time to get the fuck out!" you stand up and throw the pillow you were holding at yunho.

"nooooo, the episode isn't done yet!" wooyoung whines as you shoo him off the couch.

"there's two minutes left! go home!" you argue as you start cleaning up the living room.

"aw man." wooyoung pouts as he collects his jacket and leftovers from the dining table.

"we can finish the rest of the season next week when i don't have work the next morning." you offer trying to compensate.

"deal." your friend says as he slips on his shoes. "thanks for hosting!"

"of course!"

wooyoung was truly the only one who understood the concept of getting the fuck out immediately as you turned around to see yunho lazily collecting his things.

he 100% wants to talk about what wooyoung said.

"sooo, you really like my hands?" yunho carefully asks in case you launch another pillow at him.

"if i answer honestly, will you get out of my apartment?"

"yeah, yeah, definitely."

you give yunho a death stare noticing the fakeness in his voice.

"i swear i will!"

"good." you say unfolding your arms, "then yeah i think they're hot."

"wait really?"

"no more questions!" you quip pushing yunho to the door.

thankfully both wooyoung and yunho had dropped the topic of hands around you after that binge night at your apartment but that doesn't mean that you were still thinking about it. the situation with wooyoung outing your desire for yunho's hand. definitely not yunho's hands...

okay to admit though, you had a little crush on yunho but it's one those things where if he made a move on you, you wouldn't be mad about it. you've been friends with him since your second college after meeting him through wooyoung and even then you thought he was a little cute but it wasn't enough for you to be ballsy with it. wooyoung also definitely had his suspicions of you liking him too but he always had his knack for just knowing who peopled liked.

yunho on the other hand was a little bit of mystery when it came to his dating scene. you didn't really ask about what type of girls he was into or who he was seeing because partially, you didn't wanna feel jealous. you heard from wooyoung and your other friends gossip about yunho's flings with him at parties. the only recent fling he had was a kind of awhile ago but who knows if she's still in the picture. not like you were keeping track or anything.

luckily, yunho also wasn't weird about the whole situation either. things were still normal between the two of you. even the next binge event at your place was normal. you guys were able to finish the season without any mentioning of hands.

wooyoung had to take off a little earlier than usual since san called him about something going wrong in their apartment leaving yunho to help clean your place.

"you wanna play mario kart after we clean? i brought my switch." yunho offered.

"don't have to ask me twice" as you throw yunho the lysol wipes for the table.

after a quick cleaning session, yunho began setting up his switch and connecting it to your tv. you quietly sat next to him watching yunho use the controller to maneuver around the tv. there was something about how long his fingers were and how quickly they were moving the joysticks around. his hands were extra veiny today too.

the pads of his thumbs could definitely fully cover your n-

"are you good?" yunho asks pulling you out of your thoughts, as he offers you one of the controllers.

you shake your head as if it would get rid of the dirty thoughts, "yeah, mhm."

"okay buddy." yunho says as he drops one of the controllers into your hands. he definitely didn't buy it.

there was a moment of silence as yunho goes to open the game and without even looking at you he asks, "you really like my hands huh?"

"excuse me?" your heartbeat that already increased was literally about to burst out of your chest. "i thought i already answered this question."

"i mean, yeah." he shrugs just now looking back at you, "but i wanna hear you say it again."

"absolutely not." you protest.

"okay fine but how about this, if i get the fastest time you have to admit that you looove my hands and if you win, you can ask me any truth or dare question."

"anything?" you bargain with a mischievous raised eyebrow.

"yes."

"deal. you go first."

here's the thing, you were an absolute god at this game and yunho although he is competitive literally has no shot at beating you unless he cheats. so this little race should be a piece of cake. nothing you can't handle.

you guys had decided that the both of you would race on rainbow road and were able to pick what character and car they wanted. deciding to be an honest player, you sat back and watched yunho drive. this time while yunho was playing, you were too busy focusing on how he was doing to even think about his hands. you had to admit though, he was doing really well even though he shelled here and there.

"done!"

"five minutes and thirty seconds." you call out right after. "not bad yunho but we'll see about that."

"okay, sweat."

that nickname earned yunho a middle finger and you sticking out your tongue at him.

as you were selecting your character and tweaking the car, you could sense yunho moving closer to you. not enough to touch you but enough to be all up in your space. out of the corner of your eye you could see him fidgeting with something with his hands. his fingers were twiddling with an object that you couldn't quite make out.

focus. you think as you shake your head and return your full attention to the screen.

after completing your car design, you were ready for the race to begin. while waiting for the race to begin it's countdown, you let your eyes linger back to yunho's fingers to find out what the hell he was playing with. was he shredding a napkin? or playing wth the extra controller?

"y/n?" yunho's voices brings you out of your trance as you realize that you were holding down the gas for too long causing your boost to backfire.

"shit."

"lock in y/n." yunho teases turning his body towards you more, allowing his hands to appear perfectly in the corner of your eye.

"shut up." you growl back at him.

the rest of the race continues somewhat smoothly without any more yunho distractions but fuck that start really fucked up your time. you were closing in on the finish line coming in almost second place until some fuckass throws another red shell at you causing your character to spiral for a few seconds before resuming the track.

"what the fuck!"

"and that's time!" yunho shouts after your outburst. "five minutes and fifty-five seconds."

"that fucking red shell and you!" you turn your anger towards yunho and grab one of the couch pillows and chuck it at him.

"yah! i still won! admit it y/n!" yunho taunts doing a little celebratory dance on the floor.

your lips form into a thin line as you glare at him and shake your head.

"ah, ah, you bet on it."

avoiding the dare, you jabbed your fingers into yunho's side to "tase" him, knowing it was one of his most ticklish spots. you watch in glee as yunho starts to spasm on the floor from being tickled so hard.

"y/n! you little shit!" yunho shouts in between laughs as you kept tickling his sides.

deciding to be nice, you slow your attacks on him to let yunho catch his breath but he takes the opportunity to grab both of your wrists in one swoop. before you knew it, you were leaning over yunho's face with your arms hanging above your head. a blush crept on your face as you realized the position you were in.

"admit it." yunho said with a sick smirk on his face. it's like he took pleasure in making you flustered.

in no position to retaliate, you surrender. "i think your hands are hot jeong yunho."

"thanks pretty." yunho's eyes flicker to your lips for a split second. "wanna see what else they can do?"

too many things just happened. first of all, you losing in mario kart which never fucking happens then you basically getting manhandled by one of your closest friends and lastly, you were enjoying every moment of it. you were too nervous to use your voice so you just nodded along to whatever yunho just said.

you could see the lust fill in yunho's eyes while he talked. "i need words pretty."

"y-yes, i do." you mumble out. "please."

"thank you angel." yunho smiles before swiftly switching positions with you. "that was all i needed."

lying on your back, you stared back up at yunho who had a whole different demeanor ten minutes ago.

"do you know how long i've waited for a moment like this?" yunho asks his face a mere two inches away.

"why keep waiting then?" you tease back.

"you're right."

before you knew it, yunho leans forward and captures your soft lips earning a small gasp from you. his hands slowly traveled down your body as he swiped the bottom of your lip which allowed him access to your tongue. the thirst for each other was so strong after such a long time of waiting. did yunho like you this whole time too?

regardless of what he thought of you, he was devouring your lips. eventually, he traveled down your body leaving wet, open mouth kisses everywhere. he didn't stop until he figured out your sweet spot. yunho's lips came to a stop making you whine.

"can i take this off angel?" he asks softly, motioning to your shirt.

"yes, please."

"fast learner." yunho teases as he slips the shirt off of you.

instinctively, your hands fly to cover your chest when you realize you were almost fully topless in front of him. yunho notices your sudden shyness and stops moving. "what's wrong pretty?"

it was too embarrassing to admit that you were hella fucking nervous to be this exposed in front of yunho but it was too late he already read your mind. "don't be shy angel. we can put your shirt back on or i can take mine off so we're even?"

with a sweaty hand, you tug at his shirt with a pout. "can you take yours off too please?"

"since you asked so nicely." yunho grins as he slips off his shirt revealing his toned body. "now we're even."

a small smile appears on your lips as your arms return to yunho's neck. "thank you."

"of course, anything for you angel." yunho pecks your lips. "are you good to keep going?"

"yes." you breath out looking into his eyes. something about yunho just made you feel good. he just felt so familiar and comforting.

yunho leans back down and goes back to devouring your lips still not satisfied. he was determined to find your sweet spot if that meant kissing you all over your body. now that your shirt was off, he spent a little extra time on your boobs. he would alternate between kissing and sucking them before leaving an experimental hickey here and there.

it wasn't until he went back on your neck that he buried his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder making you gasp. you could feel yunho smirk once he realized he found your sweetspot. this time he mercilessly attacked your neck with open mouthed kisses leaving you moaning.

god, did he take his sweet time with you in this little spot. however, it wasn't enough to satisfy the growing arousal pooling down your legs. "yunho, please" you pant out, "need more."

"oh?" yunho pulls away from your neck making you whine once more.

"please yunho." you beg and tug at one of his wrists, leading them to the waistband of your pants.

he didn't say a word as he went to work on unbuttoning your pants and helping you slide them off. to test the waters, he cupped your clothed cunt and felt how fucking soaked you were. "angel, you're dripping."

"please." you moan out. "yun please."

"'m sorry pretty." yunho gives you a quick kiss as an apology before slipping his hand into your panties.

another moan escapes your puffy lips as yunho slips in one his long fingers. yunho kept his eyes on you as he moved his finger at a maddening slow pace.

fuck, even with just one of his fingers, it's exactly what you fantasized about. but you needed more. now.

"yun, please. i need more."

"okay, angel."

hearing your pleas, yunho slips not just one but two more fingers in you earning another gasp from you.

"fuck!"

again, yunho starts off with his sick, slow pace letting you adjust to the size difference. he loved watching your face contort in pleasure and a sense of pride washed over him as he realized that he was the one making you like this. all needy and fucked out without even needing to take his dick out.

slowly but surely, he quickened his pace without you even asking. multiple moans fell from your lips but they all got buried as soon as yunho captured your lips again. he swallowed every noise that came out your mouth which made him lose his mind. you sounded so fucking hot.

it wasn't too long until yunho's lips fell back into the crook of your neck earning him another loud moan. he would nip and suck on the spot before relieving the pain with a wet kiss. even with his mouth busy on your neck, his fingers never relented it's pace. the combined pleasure was absolutely insane. the warming sensation in cunt grew so intense that you couldn't hold it any longer.

"yunho, mmmh-fuck. 'm close." you moan, "so close nngh."

"come on angel." yunho encouraged, "give it to me pretty."

somehow his fingers sped up even more making you cry out even more. "too much yun!"

"angel, please." yunho moans into your ear, "give it to me. you can do it baby."

"fuck!" you cry out again, before finally letting go all over yunho's fingers.

"just like that angel," yunho praises as he continued to work you through your orgasm.

you were out of breath once you finished, your eyes closing in satisfaction.

"i'll be right back angel." yunho says as he presses a warm kiss to your forehead. the loss of his fingers made you whine.

with heavy eyes, you watched as yunho disappeared into the kitchen. a moment later, he came back with a clean rag and a glass of ice water.

handing you the water, he gently cleaned you up. finally getting to see just how much you came he couldn't help but tease you.

"so you like my hands a lot then."

[arthurmorganrp]

"A sauna? I've heard of it before, but I've never been to one." It seemed interesting. Different. He had his hopes. Arthur had some more of the tea, making a funny eww face as he sipped it. "Mnnghhrrghhfhhklllckk....gooooodddaaaaaamm....why medicinal things have to be so gross...? I bet horse piss ain't so bad." He complained as he drank all of the tea Cass had prepared. "Mnm. Thank you. For...looking after me." He said honestly, trying to keep all the shyness away.

"Sure, add some seasoning, I need to get the taste of his tea off my tongue." They cooked the breakfast together and enjoyed it. "Like my old friend Hosea used to say...fresh food prepared by a fire out in the open...there ain't much like it. It's...really good." He seemed happy to be eating with Cass, he was grateful for that moment. He ate all of it, licked his lips, drank a lot of water and already looked better than when he had woken up.

From time to time, he'd glance at Cassidy, give him a shy smile- slowly, he was starting to overcome that blunt shyness, eyes soft appreciating Cole, craving for those sunny smiles and his silly jokes.

"Thanks..." He muttered. And this time, he meant the company, the embraces and not judging him. "And thanks for helping save that girl. It meant...a lot to me." Wanting or not, it was a way for the criminal to help himself to forgive......himself. He had failed to save his family, and he hated himself for it- being able to do something good, it pushed Arthur a little more into liking himself, into knowing his life wasn't just a sequence of unfortunate events.

"I'm gonna...cure this damn illness..and we gonna cross all this land together, wiping off all these son of bitches, so these people can live in peace." He nodded to himself and Cole, taking a deep breath, the wheezing was very soft, almost inaudible, and his lips weren't as inflammed anymore.

"Alright boy, I'm ready to go."

As Cole read the map and walked around the camp, Arthur took his lasso and throwing knives. "I'll hunt something fresh for us, I'll be right back." He walked to the riverbead, a small vein of the river that was, so shallow for some meters there were many fish wandering, nibbling on bugs that had fallen into the water during the night. Throwing the knives, he caught a few, four in total- it would be more than enough for them, and it took less time he thought it would. On the way back, he spotted a nest, climbed the tree and reached the eggs, jumped down to the floor. Even if he felt better, his body wasn't as it used to be weeks ago. He had lost weight and had to put more effort to climb. But still, he was okay. He also had washed his face, his mouth, fixed his hair and collected some water.

He walked back to their camp, it didn't take long, sitting by Cass' side, quickly cleaning the fish and setting them by the fire using sticks. Then he used a small metal plate to break the eggs, threw some salt and let it all cook. "We had to stop, Cass." Arthur said, his voice low, serious and compassionate. "We had to help them and get rid of those Lemoyne." He said as he turned the fish. "We'll get to the tribe in time. I have already been way closer to death...I don't think I'll die in the next few days if I can keep resting and taking the proper medication. So...don't worry too much. Let's do our best and that's it. Don't....don't think too much, alright?" He gave Cole a soft smile, his eyes grateful.

"Here, have some fish and eggs. It will keep us well fed until nighttime."

[colonelkaboom]

Under the wings of a dragon

Twenty years after a deadly fire plagued your village, leaving you orphaned and permanently scared, you find yourself playing with fire once more. Back then you were an innocent victim, now you are a willing participant.

AN: This started out as a little poem (since when do I write poems?), inspired by Sylus, that I wrote when I realized how much I missed writing fantasy. Then my imagination decided a poem wasn't enough...

✦ Read on ao3 ✦ Sylus x Reader ✦ Word count: 6.5 k ✦ Fantasy AU setting ✦ Dragon Sylus, death of parent, suicidal ideation, survivors guilt, fire, angst, grief, mention of blood, comfort, strangers to friends to lovers

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find…” Your little voice eagerly begins before taking a moment to think. “Anchovies!” 

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find anchovies and… ” Tara joins in. “ … Beetroot.”

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find anchovies, beetroot and carrots!” Simone quips happily before poking your side, urging you to continue the game.

“Are you playing a game or planning dinner?” Your mother jokingly asks, poking her head out the kitchen window.

“No, no! Please don’t make me eat anchovies again, they’re gross!” You exclaim pushing onto your tippy toes in front of her with a quivering bottom lip. You’re too short to reach her, so you clutch the windowsill to maintain balance. Making sure your mother never loses sight of your pleading eyes. 

“I’m only joking, little one. Why don’t you walk your friends home, dinner should be ready when you get back.” Your mother smiles before stirring something in a large pot. It smells delicious.

The three of you skip along the narrow cobbled streets, jumping over potted plants and stray cats. 

Stars and moonlight flood the little village as night slowly descends upon it. But you are not afraid. After bidding Tara and Simone farewell you begin the short journey back home.

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find dumb little girls losing their mind.” A cruel voice whispers behind you.

“Leave me alone.” You know who it is. A boy only a few years older than yourself whose favorite pastime is scaring the younger children. 

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find emaciated peasants who won’t have any food after the dragon burns their storage.” He hisses, clearly proud of his own words.

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find feeble boys who think they’re being clever.” You bravely spit at him. “I hope he turns you into charcoal.”

Then you run. You can easily beat him with your words, but should he choose to initiate physical violence you’d be dragon fodder in no time. 

“Are you alright, little one?” Your mother questions when her little girl returns home flushed and breathless.

“I ran really, really fast.” The boy is not mentioned in any conversation the little family engages in throughout the rest of the evening. He doesn’t deserve the attention.

“Good night, little one.” A gentle touch dances over your cheek. The kind of touch only the love of a mother can provide. 

Tightly bundled up in the finest blankets and pillows, you feel the need for sleep quickly overcome you.

“Will you tell me a story, mother?” You ask through a yawn. 

“Which one do you want to hear?” There is no need to ask, she knows that her daughter always requests the same story.

“The one about the dragon of course!” 

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find forces of evil that torture and bind. Treasures of gold and jewels to feed the insatiable sin of a dragon's greed.” Her voice slowly becomes more and more haunting as you listen intently. “Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find black magic that curse and bewitch the mind. Crystals and gems to quench his desire hidden away by the forces of fire.”

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find the stench of a beast so foul and unkind…” Her calming voice slowly fades away as you drift into the darkness of a peaceful slumber.

A loud shriek jolts you awake before your mother bursts in through the door. Then you smell it, smoke. Next you feel the warmth surrounding you. 

Smoke and warmth you can handle, but the sensation that follows, that’s a different story. Pain. Immense pain surrounds your little legs slowly melting away under the flames licking your tiny body. 

You scream and cry for your mothers help as she’s ripping the blankets away from you. There is barely any time to think, your thoughts are clouded by pain and smoke covers your eyes.

“I love you. I love you, little one.” Your mother cries before you suddenly find yourself falling from your window. 

The canal flowing behind your house catches you and soothes the sting the flames left behind. The water is cool and welcoming, but also threatening and consuming. So you swim, up up up, until the ashy air reaches your lungs once more. The flames are everywhere, everything on the left side of the canal seems to have been engulfed by the unforgiving fire. 

You can barely tell which house is yours due to all the destruction, and your mother is nowhere to be found. Suddenly everything is quiet apart from the ringing in your ears slowly robbing you of your senses. Where is she? 

Your body goes limp in the water, unwilling to face the possibility that your mother did not make it out in time. The water was claiming you, and you wanted it to. Claim me, take me away from here, faster. Let me be with my mother once more. A male voice calls your name, but you’re too far gone. There was no point fighting, not if you’d have to do so without your mother by your side.

Two decades ago Tara’s father had plucked your drained body from the water. Two decades ago, your mother died. Swallowed by the flames, along with so many others in your village. 

Some claimed the fire was a sign from the Gods, punishing you for not adhering to their strict way of life. They claimed the Gods had conjured a dragon to punish you for giving in to greed, lust and desire. Commanding him to burn everyone who had given in to sin. 

Those claims angered you, even as a child. Your mother was no sinner, and the fire had claimed lives of children younger than yourself. How would they have had time to commit sins that made them unworthy of life? 

As a child you might have believed their claim that a dragon was to blame, if they hadn’t tried to convince you that the dragon was being controlled by some higher power. No one could control a dragon, you were sure of it. They were wild beasts who only lived for themselves. Masters of their own life. 

As an adult, you had come to the conclusion that dragons are a myth and the fire was purely accidental. A truly tragic accident that robbed you of all you had. There were no lasting signs of the flames lingering in the village, but you were constantly reminded of the horrors every time you took your clothes off to sleep or bathe. Angry purple and red marks decorated your left leg starting at your ankle moving all the way up your shin before feathering out above the knee. The damaged skin remains a mix of painfully tender and uncomfortably numb.

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find grapes!” 

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find a heart!” 

“Dragons don’t have hearts, silly! Pick something else!” 

The three little girls reminded you of yourself, Tara and Simone. Although twenty years had passed, children still favored the same games the three of you had played all those years ago. 

You wandered further and further away from the village in order to complete your mission. The sweetest berries in the entire forest, and they were all yours. No one else dared go this deep into the forest in fear of the wildlife. You were not scared, nothing scared you anymore. Nothing but fire. 

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find… Imagination” You mutter to yourself as you take in the beauty of the forest around you. The lake shimmers softly in the setting sun. Burning orange and red tones soon consume the whole forest, including you.

You’re not afraid. The colors of a sunset are still enjoyable, even if they share certain similarities with the flames that took your mother. 

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find, jealousy… Joy?” You ponder for a moment before settling on a more appropriate answer. “Judgement."

After picking a few berries you find a comfortable spot to sit. You lean back, relaxing against a large tree and enjoy the scene in front of you. 

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find, keepsakes” You smile to yourself, proud to have come up with such a fitting term for a hoarding dragon. 

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find…” Something beginning with ‘L’. Unable to think of anything, you look around for inspiration.

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find ladies disturbing his peace of mind.” A deep gravely voice echoes, bouncing off the surrounding trees and mountains. 

Where was the voice coming from? Who was watching you? The sound of a rumbling laughter brings you to your feet, scattering the precious berries you were cradling in your skirts.

For the first time in two decades you felt afraid, even if only for a moment. Something other than fire had thoroughly spooked you. 

“Where are you?” Fuck, your voice made you sound as scared as you felt. It made you sound weak.

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find terrified maidens for the dragon to bind.”

Reluctantly you look up into the tree you had been resting against, surprised to see a man standing on a thick branch. His arms are crossed over his chest, yet he’s leaning forward without falling down. Predator and prey.

“Is that why you’re here?” He asks as he gracefully leaps from the branch, landing in front of you. “Are you a gift for me to take? A shiny new addition to my beloved hoard of treasures?”

He’s terrifyingly tall with ruby eyes and silver hair. He looks like he’s strong enough to break your neck with one arm if he wishes. His body is partially covered in some strange type of armour in a material you don’t recognize. Red markings emerge from a large red gem in the center of his chest. You can’t help yourself, you have to stare. If your mother had gotten to live longer, she might have had time to teach you that staring was rude. 

You attempt to control your curiosity but as your eyes wander back up his body, with the intention of meeting his, they instead land on horns peeking out from the silver locks. Don’t touch them, don’t touch them, don’t touch them.

“If you try to touch my horns I will smite you.” The sudden sternness of his voice quickly brought your eyes properly back down to his. You could have sworn his right eye took on an even brighter shade of red. 

“You’ll smite me?” You can’t help but question his odd choice of threat. 

“Yes. Do you need me to define the term?” You shake your head and take a careful step backwards. 

“Where are you going? I thought you were my new treasure?” For each step you take away from him, he follows. His long strides quickly closing the distance between you.

A few more shaky steps backwards and suddenly the ground disappears under your feet. A slippery root? A round pebble? Who knows. You’re falling. Until you’re not. Something caught you.

“Watch your step, kitten.”

Your heart is pounding and your shaky breath is not helping calm you down. Something cold and solid is curled underneath your back and cradles your neck. What is it? What is he? It moves and you instinctively grab it until your feet are firmly back on the ground. Once again you find yourself staring at him, at his tail, as it retracts to hide behind his back.

“Did your mother not teach you that it’s rude to stare?” The fact that he’s calling you out should have been enough to pull your gaze away, but you were stuck in a trancelike state taking in the man in front of you and all his additional limbs. 

“No, she didn’t. She died before I got the message.” You’re shocked by the lack of emotion in your voice, but you’re slowly becoming convinced that nothing can make you stop looking at this man. “Are those wings?”

A frustrated grumble and annoyed eyeroll tell you that he’s tired of your antics. 

“Are you satisfied with your inspection?” He asks, obviously teasing you for your wandering gaze.

“No, I’d like to be a bit more thorough if you don’t mind.” Where was this sudden confidence coming from? 

“Where is your survival instinct, kitten? You shouldn’t be so trusting of strangers.”

“I’ve never seen anyone like you. Not in books, not in art, nowhere. What are you?”

“I’m a predator. You should show me some respect and be frightened.” The look on his face carried a hint of amusement, like he was just as curious about you as you were about him. 

A subtle smile played on your lips, and it seemed like it was there to stay. Out of the corner of your eye you saw it; he was smiling too. Discrete, hidden, but a smile nonetheless. In fact, you couldn’t stop smiling as you circled each other. Taking the time to study his movements, as he studied yours.  

“Are you going to tell me what you are?” You ask, daring to take a step closer. What you initially thought was armour looks like rough scales fused to his skin. Like they’ve always been a part of him. 

“Are you going to tell me why you’re not afraid of me anymore?”

“You caught me when I fell.”

“I caught you with my tail, does it not scare you?” 

“You were scarier when I thought you were just a man, now I see that you’re so much more.”

“You’re certainly one of the more interesting humans I’ve encountered.” He chuckled again, although this time it sounded far less intimidating than earlier. This one felt more real.

“The known is boring. If you were just a man, I’d know exactly how you’d kill me. I have no idea what you’re capable of.”

Something in him shifted. A look of pure disgust crept up in place of the charming smile. 

“Do you have some sort of death wish?” Slightly shocked by his words, you take a moment to consider them. 

“No! What kind of question is that?”

He closes the space between you and wraps his tail around your body, locking your arms to your sides. Then a sharp claw drags up the column of your throat. You don’t even know why you did it, but you angle your chin higher to give him easier access.

“I’ve rendered you completely defenseless, yet your pulse has barely risen. You seem more excited than worried. Why is that?” He grabs your chin forcing your eyes to meet his as he demands an answer.

“I don’t know.”

“If you’re so eager for me to end your life, why are you lying? What’s the point of secrets if you’ll be dead within the hour?”

“Shut up!” He lets you go, but the disapproving look on his face remains locked on yours. 

“I have no say in how you live or die, kitten. But one thing I know for certain is that when you die it will not be by my hand. If death is what you desire you’ve come to the wrong dragon.”

“Dragon?”

“Part dragon, but a dragon nonetheless.” He says as he takes a deep bow. “Nice to meet you.”

“Do you have a name?” You question. 

“Perhaps.”

“Can I hear it?”

“Do you really want to know?” You firmly nod in response. “Guess you’ll have to stick around long enough to find out.”

“Find me again, then I’ll tell you more.” Large black wings unfold and lift him into the air. “Stay safe, kitten.”

Your eyes stay fixed on him until he’s nothing but a black dot disappearing into the quickly darkening sunset. A dragon. Part dragon, but a dragon nonetheless. 

The sky is completely dark by the time you get back home. For a long time you contemplated trying to follow him. Follow the dragon. Run as fast as you can in the same direction you saw him fly off to. There was no chance you’d ever be able to catch up to him.

Instead you spent the whole walk home mulling over his words. You didn’t have a death wish, you were just tired. Drained and empty after enduring twenty years of a life that was so different from what you imagined it would be. 

From what you had read about dragons, you knew they feasted on greed. And this part dragon you encountered seemed to indulge in the same sins. He’d turned himself into a carrot, dangling himself in front of your face to keep you moving. Your human desire to feed your curiosity had given him an in. How could you resist the temptation?

The burning sky accompanied you into the forest once more and you returned to the same tree where he found you. There was no way of knowing if he’d be here today, but you were greedy enough to wait. 

The berries you had dropped during your first encounter lay scattered on the ground in front of you. Dried up and far less appealing than their usually plump form. And then you waited.

You waited and waited until the sky shifted from orange to purple before rising to your feet. Darkness was looming, and if you were ever to learn the dragon's name, you could not stay in the forest and tempt the wildlife further. 

Did he lie? He had asked you to find him again, but not specified how to do so. What else could he have wanted you to do, other than return to where you’d met him first? 

The next day, you repeat the process once more. At the same time, when the sky burns orange. The same place, under the tree where the scattered berries now lay blackened like little lumps of charcoal. Anger was stirring deep inside you at his deceit. You had trusted his word, assumed they held some value. Obviously that was a mistake.

Yet on the third day, you find yourself impatiently returning to the forest once more. A part of you began wondering if you had imagined the whole encounter. That he was no more than a figment of your imagination. A demon from your childhood. In spite of that, you still lingered way longer than you should have. Resting against the same tree trunk, your heavy eyelids slowly shut.  

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find nightmares.” A dark voice whispers in your ear. You only smile at the welcome intrusion. “Your turn, kitten.”

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find oblivescence. You seem to have forgotten about me these last few days.” You turn to face him unable to hide your satisfied smirk. He finally showed up.

“It’s late, why are you still here? I’m not the only beast lingering in these forests at night.”

“I was waiting for you.”

“Oh, kitten, I’m flattered.”

“You asked me to come.” 

“No, I asked you to find me, not to wait for me. There’s a difference.” He teases.

“Well, if you wanted me to do all the work, then why are you here now? I clearly haven’t been able to follow your instructions.”

“I got impatient.”

“I see, I guess humans aren’t the only ones who lead lives driven by desire.”

“Are you saying I’m desiring you, kitten? What qualities do you possess that will somehow tempt a dragon?”

“You tell me.”

There is a moment of complete stillness. The only disturbance being your breaths mingling and the faint, consistent grumble from deep within the dragon. 

“I find you intriguing. You seem to care so little for your own life, yet at the sight of my tail and wings…” The dragon settles on the ground facing you and his tail slowly slithers over your thighs before resting at your waist. There is no possession or demand in its grip, it feels more like it’s there to offer comfort. “... It was like something changed. It wasn’t fear, disgust or anger. No… You were curious, excited. Mezmerized. It brought you back here again and again, even when you couldn’t find me.” 

“You knew I was here?” You ask, a slight annoyance to your tone. If he knew you were here, why did he not show himself?

“I watched. I’ll admit I was also curious. I wanted to see how many evenings you’d spend under this tree before you’d give up.”

“You gave in before I did. A human bested the mighty dragon.” It’s your turn to tease, you’ve got the upper hand. “I would have been back tomorrow, if I hadn’t seen you tonight. Yet, you approached me, interrupting my peaceful slumber.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity to return tomorrow if you had been mauled by a bear whilst you slept. But don’t worry, kitten, you’re safe with me. I might not be the only beast in the forest, but I am the most frightening.”

“Then I don’t see why me falling asleep out here was ever an issue.” He seems to be at a loss for words, utterly surprised by your assessment.  

“What a bold statement, would you like me to be scarier? Do you wish I lived up to whatever horrifying descriptions of dragons you’ve grown accustomed to hearing?”

“No, I’m glad you don’t honestly.” You admit, thinking back to all the gruesome depictions of dragons you had come across through stories and artwork. 

“I’d love to hear your reasons.” He tilts his head ready to listen.

“It’s like I said the other day; If you were just a man, I could have read you like a book. Likewise if you were just a beast, there would be no unanswered questions.” 

Such honest words, from a human no less. Spoken with clarity and confidence. He could listen to you talk for hours. Knowing that how you view and describe the world would be far superior to any story or poem carelessly jotted down by someone with far less sincerity. 

“I get to discover you without someone else’s impressions to cloud my own judgement. You can still surprise me. You’re something new.”

“What do you desire, kitten?” The feeling of his gaze on yours was indescribable. It feels like he’s searching for something hidden deep underneath the surface. Asking you to share your deepest, darkest secrets that no one would dare utter in anyone else's presence. Just his. 

“I desire something more. I desire knowledge of a world that is hidden from humans. I desire a world where fairytales and myths are more than stories. I desire your world.”

Once again, you stunned him with your honesty. Uttering your inner desires as if it came easily to you. Wanting so badly for your world to contain more than mundane human life. He would have known if you were lying or giving him half truths. But you didn’t.

“My name is Sylus.” He says and holds out his hand for you to shake. It’s scaly, rough, sharp and magnificent. 

You offer him your name in return as your hand joins his. He brings it to his lips and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. The contrast of his rough hands and soft lips surprises you. You want him to keep surprising you. More discoveries, more unpredictable behaviour, more dragon, more him. More, more, more! 

“So greedy…” He laughs as his warm breath ghosts along the hand he still holds close. 

“Don’t you like greedy humans?” You question.

“I like greedy humans when they give in.”

You couldn’t fight it even if you tried. The greed and desire to take, take, take. Devour him. Sylus wanted you to take, he would have allowed you to feast on his blood if you asked. Everytime you gave in to your desires to know everything about him and his world, you allowed him to peek into yours. 

Your world was bleak, empty. Devoid of anything that brought you pleasure. His world offered everything you craved. The more time you spent in it, the more you wanted to stay. Forever. 

The village had begun to take note of your trips into the forest becoming longer and more frequent. Whispers and rumors discussing whatever you could be getting up to in the forest late at night, spread like wildfire. 

‘She’s a witch. A servant of the underworld claimed by the Source of all evil.’ You didn’t care, at first… Then there were subtle threats that made you feel unsafe. Red string tied to your doorhandle. Dry lavender stuffed into the letterbox. Your village wanted you gone. They were scared of you. The child who was so badly burned by the dragon, whose life should have been claimed all those years ago, had finally been taken to serve some evil deity. Perhaps they were right, that it should have been you and not your mother. Perhaps the fire should have taken you instead. 

The whispers only worsened when the family of the boy who tormented your childhood publicly shared that you had wished for their son to turn into charcoal on the very night of the fire. Now that you were publicly accused of witchcraft, your words held a different meaning to them. Their son perished that night. Suddenly the accusations became harder to ignore

Even Tara and Simone had to abandon you. They didn’t want to, but you feared they’d be subjected to the same torment as yourself if they stayed by your side any longer. 

There wasn’t much you could do. If you stopped going to the forest, stopped going to Sylus, the witchcraft accusation that led to the death of a child wouldn’t disappear. People would watch over your every move, anything you did or said could be used as evidence against you. So you left. Spending more and more time with your dragon only sneaking home at night when the village was sleeping. You had to get away from them and their unjustified judgement. There was only one person you wanted, only one person who made you feel safe, him. 

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find peculiarities.” Sylus says.

You and Sylus have a perfect view of the sun setting in the horizon. Propped up on a little ledge high up in the mountains. He’d been taking you flying fairly often these days, loving being able to put a smile on your face. Taking you far far away from the horrible whispers from your village. Flying made you feel powerful, like you were stronger than any other regular human. Even if the wings didn’t grow out of your back, when you were flying, it felt like they were a part of you as well. Like you and Sylus were one. 

“Peculiarities? Is that what I am?” You exclaim, faking a hurt expression.

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find a quarrelsome human who dares question the mighty dragon.” He continues. Not only teasing you further, but also skipping your turn in the game.

“Be quiet, it’s my turn!” You laugh, slapping the tail that pins you in place. The tail curls tighter around you, before tugging you closer to Sylus’ warmth. A warmth you greatly appreciated at your current altitude. 

The deep rumble of his laughter had quickly become one of your favorite sounds. You craved it the same way you once craved to know his name. You began appreciating time, wanting to make the most of it rather than simply waiting for it to pass and bring you closer to an end. Now you wanted to savor it.

With the passing of time, came the change of seasons. Winter was looming and with it came earlier nights and colder weather. Sylus kept you safe and warm, but he could not accompany you back to the village. To keep you from wandering the forest in the dark, you had to cut your evenings together short. 

“The sun is setting, we should get you home, kitten.” He hated parting from you. Hated sending you into the forest alone, back to this other life of yours where he wasn’t welcome. Where his presence in turn had made you unwelcome as well. 

Before you had time to protest, heavy raindrops prickled your skin. The raindrops quickly became firmer as they slapped against you. A wing quickly enveloped you acting as a shield protecting your feeble body from the forceful hail. The sun had completely abandoned you, allowing clouds, lightning and thunder to forcefully punish you both for staying together for too long. 

A quick glimpse at Sylus told you that he was not immune to the hail attacking his exposed body. There was an inkling of pain in his expression as he looked around for a way to get you both down from the mountain. 

“Sylus…”

“Do you trust me, kitten?”

“Of course!”

“I’m taking you to my cave. It’s a shorter flight than all the way back to your village.” You simply nodded, eager to find somewhere that could cover you both and give his wings a break from the piercing ice.

When you were finally airborne, he held you closer than he ever had before, unaware of the fact that your skirts had risen leaving your scarred leg exposed to the elements. It was agonizing, but he had it worse, so you kept your mouth shut and allowed mother nature to continue punishing you. 

“We’re almost there, sweetie.” Your head was tucked against his chest, protected as best as he could. Not good enough! He was a dragon for fucks sake, he should be able to keep you safe from something as simple as a quick change in weather. He cursed himself for failing you, clutched you even tighter and flew faster than he had in a long time. 

Then the howling wind stilled and the burning ice pounding against your sore leg disappeared. You were covered, and no longer flying. Sylus walked forward, further into his cave, with you in his arms. 

Now you could tell how quick his heart was beating, how erratic his breathing had gotten, and how tightly he was holding you. You softly hiss in pain before you realize that the stinging sensation you’re reacting to is his claws digging into your thigh and waist.

“What is it? Where are you hurt?” Concern flashes over his eyes as he gently sets you down in a pile of furs and blankets. 

“It’s nothing.” A lie. 

“Sweetie, please.” He begs. But he doesn’t need to beg for long when he sees the pattern of red seeping through your clothing. A pattern he recognizes as his own beastly talons. 

Panic quickly sets in and he scrambles to pull your skirts back to assess the damage he inflicted on your thigh. Your hand on his wrist halts his movements and he looks at you with pleading eyes, urging you to allow him to continue. 

“Please.” He begs once more and you reluctantly release your hold on his wrist.

He’s gentle. Careful. Treating your tattered old dress as if it was made from the finest silks. The exposed burnmarks covering your left leg consume your attention, pulling you in like a magnet. Sylus hasn’t even noticed the burns, he’s close to tears by the four specks of blood slowly gliding down your thigh. The wounds themselves are barely bigger than the tip of a needle, but that doesn’t matter to him. He put those there, he hurt you. 

“Sylus. You didn’t do it on purpose. With the force of the wind and all the water I would have slipped from your grasp had you not held me closer.” It’s not enough to comfort him. His greatest fears are coming true. He truly is a monster, put on this earth to maim and kill. ”Sylus, listen to me. I’m fine. If not for you, I would have never made it down from that ledge.”

“If not for me you wouldn’t have been on that ledge in the first place.” He says coldly. 

“Don’t you dare. Do not allow your mind to wander toward those thoughts! To you these wounds may seem like the end of the world, but to me they are the beginning.”

“Every time you take your clothes off you'll be reminded of how I hurt you. These will become scars and serve as a constant reminder of the beast who wounded you.” Those words hurt more than his claws ever could and before you have time to think you reach out and strike him. So hard that the scales on his cheek leaves a stinging sensation in your palm. 

He growls at you. You keep your eyes locked on his, matching his anger.

“Don’t you dare speak like that!”

“Any man or woman you chose to take to your bed will see that you were once captured by the foul fiend from their childhood nightmares! You won’t ever be able to escape the horrors caused by the disgusting dragon!”

You knew he wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at himself. Your wounds served as tangible evidence of his weakness. Proof of why he chose solitude. It was like looking in a mirror and only seeing the dragon staring back at him, rather than the man. 

“Sylus, look at me. Look at my legs.” He listens and you feel his gaze move from your bleeding thigh before stopping at the healed burns. “Regardless of whom I take to my bed, I’ve known for a long time that they’ll see my damaged body. I’ve been reminded of horrifying events whenever I take my clothes off since I was a child.”

You gently take hold of his hand and allow his claws to glide along the tender skin. 

“These are a constant reminder of the fire that took my mother away from me. I’ll never forget how much pain I was in, but that pain pales in comparison to coming to terms with my mother being gone.” You pull his hand back up to your thigh, where the blood has already started to dry. He winces at the sight and tries to pull his hand back, but your hold is relentless. “No matter what happens, these will remind me of the wonderful man I met in the forest who offered me a new world. A world where he showed me things I never could have imagined. Experiences that made me want more. They will remind me of my dragon.”

Humans are such strange little creatures. Sylus thought he knew everything there was to know about them, but then he met you. 

“You’re shivering, sweetie.” He sighs and places a warm hand on your cheek.

“I am rather cold.” You can sense how tense he is, like he’s scared of touching you. 

“I’ll be back shortly.” He says, before retreating further into the cave.

He returns mere moments later with a large linen garment in his hands. 

“I’ve used this on the coldest nights of my life, I don’t need it now.” He hands you the garment and turns his back toward you. 

“I won’t peek.”

You gladly shed your soaked layers eager to discard the wet fabric clinging to your body. Whilst his back is turned, you take a peak at the markings his claws created on your waist. After a quick assessment you deem them harmless and pull the shirt over your head. He didn’t need to see them. The shirt is far too large and quickly slips off your shoulder.

“You can turn around now, Sylus.”

He takes a deep breath before kneeling next to you urging you to lay down on the soft furs. 

“Good night, sweetie.” His words give you this horrible feeling that he intends to leave you here alone.

“Please stay. I’m still cold.” You hesitantly whisper, feeling a flush spreading over your cheeks.

Sylus takes a moment to ponder. How was he worthy of laying next to you after what he had done? How could he trust himself to keep you safe ever again? Why did you still trust him? But the pleading look in your eyes, the blueish tinge to your lips gave him an answer. You needed him. And if he dared admit it, he needed you too. The fragile little human who wasn’t scared of him, she never was. Perhaps she wasn’t as fragile as he thought… 

“Close your eyes.” You do as you’re told without knowing why he asked you to do so. Then you hear the sound of metal and leather gathering on the floor. The sound echoes slightly within the cave.

His feet shuffle and the furs shift slightly next to you.

“How cold are you?” He carefully asks, keeping a safe distance until you wish for him to be closer.

“Quite cold.” You turn to carefully peek at him over your shoulder.

He scoots closer before placing an arm around you and pulling you toward him. He’s so warm allowing your shivering frame to instantly relax against him. Sylus is still tense, fearful of the new closeness. Then your nimble fingers rest over his caressing his scales. He has never felt safer than he does in this very moment. 

“Will you tell me a story?” He asks as his lips slowly graze your shoulder.

“Which one do you want to hear?”

“Do you know any stories about dragons?”

“Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find forces of evil that torture and bind. Treasures of gold and jewels to feed the insatiable sin of a dragon's greed. Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find black magic that curse and bewitch the mind. Crystals and gems to quench his desire hidden away by the forces of fire.” You pause before continuing, the final line was always your least favorite. “Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find the stench of a beast so foul and unkind…”

“How unpleasant. This is what your impression of dragons was based on?” Warm breath cradles your neck as he speaks.

“We can change it. I’ve heard different versions, every village seems to have their own.”

“Alright. How about this; Under the wings of a dragon you’ll find a sleeping maiden so delightful and kind.”

“I like that.” You giggle, pressing yourself impossibly close to his warm chest.

“Sleep now, sweetie. We can create more stories tomorrow.” He whispers and kisses your cheek. 

That night you fall asleep with a smile on your face that holds emotions you’ve never experienced before. Emotions you’ve never felt for anyone other than the dragon who holds you close whilst the storm rages outside his cave. 

My dragon.

Under the wings of a dragon you’ll see that his greatest treasure has always been me.

AN: Thanks for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! If anyone is interested in being added to the taglist, let me know!

Taglist: @babyx91 @lemurianmaster @morrigan87 @dawnbreakerswife @sylusgworl @seraphimcollections @plzdonutpercieveme

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[no-144444]

Kimi antonelli fluff???

🙏🙏

everything I need- k.antonelli

꩜summary: a quiet night of reunion

꩜pairing: andrea kimi antonelli x fem! reader

You were restless. Your day dragged you down, and everything felt difficult. Like you were swimming upstream with no moment to breathe. Like you were trying to drive a car with no breaks. Like you- you get the picture. You felt sluggish and exhausted, and completely incurable. Nothing helped, not sleep, not medicine, not even a day off. Nothing stopped your shoulders from being wound just too tight, your hair falling in just the wrong way, or your back aching just too much to be deeply uncomfortable. You wanted to say it was burnout, or fatigue, or blame it on some niche and obscure illness you didn’t know you had, but you didn’t know why you felt the way you did, or how to fix it. 

Your keys hit the door at 11:23pm, and you felt every tiny movement you made. Every muscle was on fire, your eyes burned, and your brain pounded, and you still had more work to do. Usually you were better at pacing yourself, but apparently not this month. 4 college deadlines and an accounting fuck-up at your work placement blew up your schedule and turned you into a crisis manager with too much on your hands, on top of your regular duties. Every second of the day had been torture with more people coming to you to solve their problems, when you could barely solve the ones you already had on your desk. 

You felt him before you saw him, that lingering mix of colognes and deodorant that you knew so well, even amidst the smell of some sort of pasta dish that you knew would satisfy the rumbling in your stomach. Somehow, you smiled, walking into your kitchen and leaning in the doorway as you watched him work. Small hums left his lips as he focused on the task in front of him. Fuck, it made your heart swell. 

“You broke in again.” you mused, wrapping your arms around his waist as you rested your head on his back. He chuckled, the sound reverberating through his body against yours, making your smile all the more brighter. A hand covered yours and squeezed. It’d been months. Months of phone calls and facetimes, months of texts gone unread for hours due to time differences, and months of missing. Missing moments, big and small, missing each other. You felt that ache in your chest ease, and then dissipate entirely. He had a habit of making everything okay, you realised. Especially as your shoulders sagged for the first time in a week, and that weird kink in your back somehow magically disappeared. You didn’t want to claim miraculous magical boyfriend healing, but maybe it was a thing? 

He brought one of your hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to each of the knuckles with such gentleness. “Ciao bella,” he practically whispered. “Alright?” he asked, turning off the stove and turning around, your arms still around him. Your face met his chest as you let yourself remember what it felt like to have him here, to have him safe. He breathed softly against you, perfectly content to stay like this forever. 

“Alright,” you nodded, and looked up at him. Those brown eyes and that soft smile made you weak. “Missed you,” you added and pressed a kiss to his cheek. His lips parted in a wide grin and his arms circled your waist and squeezed the skin there. He pressed his lips to your temple as you dropped your head back to his chest. “Too long apart.” 

He didn’t say anything, but you knew he agreed. This was hard, living apart was hard, being in a long-distance relationship was hard. But he wouldn’t trade you for the world, or any race win, or any championship. It would only matter if he had you standing by his side, even if you were really thousands of miles away. He nodded his head and tightened his hold. “Missed you more,” he admitted, and you both knew it was probably true. You had family here, friends here, a job, a stable life. He travelled the world, living his life with a calendar that counted every second, the media constantly looking for a slipup, and the burden of expectations hanging over his head. He swallowed down that emotion building in his throat, and he smiled. He was here. He was home. 

That’s all he wanted. All he’d ever want. Standing here, with you in his arms.

navigation for my blog :)

mercedes & williams masterlist

[whimsicalpolitical]

Can I request soft, sweet babymaking sex with Matty?

<333, 18+ mdni, smut

he’s slipping inside of you when he whispers in your ear.

“gonna give you a baby, yeah?”

you nod before you can even stop yourself, breath catching. he’s moving so slow, so deep, like he’s got all the time in the world to fill you up. like it matters. and it does. tonight, it really does.

“alright?” he murmurs, noses at your cheek, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead. “you still want that, angel?”

you nod again, harder this time, eyes fluttering shut as his hips rock into yours. there’s nothing rushed about it. there’s no teasing and no games. just him, bare and warm and heavy on top of you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“been thinkin’ about it all week,” you whisper, voice shaking. “can’t stop picturing it.”

he groans, quiet and guttural, like it hits somewhere deep.

“fuck. same. all day, all night. just... you, all full with me. carryin’ somethin’ we made. our baby, darling.”

you whimper beneath him, fingers digging into his back. he doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t falter, like the words are tangled up in his rhythm now, carried on every thrust.

“you’ll be such a good mum,” he mumbles against your neck, lips dragging hot over your pulse. “swear to god. s’all i’ve ever wanted- fuck, to have a family with you.”

“matty-“

“s’true. think about it all the time. can’t stop. the way you’d look, the way you’d sound…” he kisses your jaw, your cheek, your mouth, all sloppy and desperate. “shit, baby. i want this. want you. want it all.”

his hand slides down, gentle and slow over your stomach, and he holds you there while he fucks into you like he’s trying to put it there already.

“need you to take it for me. tonight, yeah? want to fill you up, right here,” he taps your stomach with his fingers three times.

your whole body clenches, and he groans again, the sound so needy it punches the air from your lungs.

“god, you feel so good,” he whispers, hips stuttering for the first time. “so warm, so perfect. like you were fuckin’ made for this.”

you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him down into a kiss, open and messy and breathless, and he moans into your mouth as your legs wrap tighter around him, locking him in.

“fuckin’ hell, look at you,” he breathes, forehead to yours, hips dragging back only to roll in again, “feel that? how good you take me?”

your lips are parted, eyes fluttering, heart knocking hard against your ribs.

“yeah,” you whisper. “feel all of you.”

“mm,” he groans, dipping down to kiss your neck, the curve of your shoulder. “course you do. tight little thing. always take me so well, love.”

his hand slides between your bodies, rests flat on your lower stomach again.

“right here,” he murmurs, “can you imagine, love? somethin’ growing right here. our baby. s’fuckin’ mad.”

your chest tightens from all the love you’re feeling in this very moment.

“matty…”

he lifts his head just enough to meet your eyes, thumb brushing your cheek like he’s scared you’ll vanish.

“you sure, yeah?” he whispers. “tell me now if you’re not. swear i’ll stop.”

you shake your head, tug him in closer, heels pressing into the backs of his thighs.

“don’t stop. i want it. want you.”

he makes a desperate sound, “fuck, darling… you say shit like that, i’m gonna lose it.”

he kisses you, slides his tongue inside your mouth but keeps moving his hips.

“gonna give it to you slow,” he murmurs, hips grinding down, filling you up so deep you gasp. “wanna feel every bit of you. wanna make you mine.”

“i already am,” you pant, nails raking down his back. “been yours since the start.”

“i know,” he whispers, kissing you again. “just wanna make sure it stays that way.”

he keeps moving like that, unbearable. like every thrust means something. like every second he’s inside you is sacred.

“imagine it, angel,” he mumbles against your mouth, “little version of us runnin’ around.”

you let out a broken laugh, tears building in the corners of your eyes.

“you’d be such a- god- good dad,” you whisper, “ just like that.”

his hips stutter just a bit, breath hitching like he’s close to the edge, but he pulls himself back, buries his face in your neck again.

his hips keep rolling into you but then his hand slips between your bodies, his long fingers dragging down until he finds your clit, soft and swollen and begging for him.

you gasp, back arching, and he just watches your face, eyes gone heavy-lidded and awed.

“there she is,” he murmurs, dragging slow circles with the pad of his finger. “knew you’d like that. always so fuckin’ sensitive for me, aren’t you?”

your mouth falls open but no words come, just a whimper, high and shaky, thighs twitching around his waist.

“yeah?” he grins, nose brushing yours, breathing harder now. “that good, darling?”

you nod, lips trembling. “fuck, matty-“

“shh, i know,” he coos, still working those slow circles in time with the deep push of his hips. “feels too good, yeah? all full up and still needy. greedy little thing.”

you moan then and he kisses it right off your lips.

“look at you,” he whispers against your mouth, voice so soft it nearly breaks. “fuckin’ made for this, aren’t you. made for me.”

his thumb swipes down, a little firmer now, and your whole body jerks beneath him. your nails bite into his shoulder and he groans, rolling his hips deeper just to feel you tighten around him.

“so perfect,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “god, i’m so lucky. don’t deserve you.”

you shake your head, panting. “matty, you- you do. you do-“

“nah,” he whispers, kissing the tip of your nose, your cheek, your chin. “m’just a bloke who got stupid lucky. got you in our bed, makin’ a baby, all sweet and pretty and fuckin’ perfect under me.”

you whimper again, tears burning hot at the corners of your eyes, it’s too much, the way he talks, the way he touches you. his cock buried deep, his fingers gentle on your clit, his voice in your ear saying things that make your chest ache.

“gonna come for me?” he murmurs, lips against your cheek. “you’re squeezing me- fuck, c’mon, love.”

you can’t respond, you’re so close, you’re just moaning out his name.

“there you go,” he whispers, kissing your jaw. “bein’ so good for me. lettin’ me love you like this. lettin’ me fill you up, fuck, you’re everything.”

that does it. you let out a broken moan, hips jerking, clenching around him and he doesn’t stop, not his fingers, not his voice, not the slow, perfect thrust of his cock inside you.

“that’s it,” he breathes, “c’mon, darling. give it to me. wanna feel you fall apart.”

you do, with a gasp and a cry, body curling into him, everything tightening then unraveling all at once. it hits hard, deeper than usual, raw and warm and shaking. and he’s right there, kissing you through it, whispering praises into your skin.

“fuck, look at you,” he groans, still moving, still stroking your clit with that same maddening pressure. “so fuckin’ beautiful when you come. just like that, fuckin’ perfect.”

you whimper, squirming, your whole body too tender, too much, but he doesn’t stop, he just holds you tighter, chest to chest, his hips picking up pace now, finally.

“i know, love, i know,” he coos, kissing your cheek then your jaw then your temple. “feels like too much, but you can take it. always do. always so good for me.”

his cock drives deeper now, his voice falling apart.

“so tight like this, fuckin’ hell. squeezin’ me so hard. such a good girl.”

your hands grip his back, nails digging in, overstimulated and trembling, but you don’t want him to stop. not like this. not when he’s talking to you like that.

his breath is hot against your ear now, his voice wrecked and low and full of it.

“gonna make you a mummy, yeah?”

you let out the softest sound, and it makes his hips stutter.

“fuck,” he groans, “gonna fuckin’ do it. fill you full. make you all round so fuckin’ mine. just- just let me, darling. let me give it to you.”

his fingers never leave your clit, drawing slow circles even while you writhe, even while your thighs tremble around his waist and you’re begging under your breath.

“can’t- too much-“

“you can,” he whispers, voice all honey. “gonna keep you right here until you’re full of me.”

the sound of skin on skin is echoing off the bedroom walls. the sheets are twisted under your back, your legs tight around him, and he’s panting against your mouth, moaning into your skin like he’s unraveling in real time.

“fuck- fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, “you feel that? feel how wet you are, fuckin’ dripping round me-“

“please, matty- need it.”

his whole body jolts like the words hit somewhere visceral, and he groans, deep in his chest, forehead pressed hard to yours.

“fuck- know you do,” he hisses, breath stuttering. “know you do, darling. your body’s fuckin’ beggin’ for it.”

his hand moves back down to your stomach, palm spread flat, holding you like he’s already imagining what might be growing there.

“gonna give it to you,” he whispers, lips brushing yours. “gonna fuckin’ breed you proper. fill you up so full, love.”

you whimper beneath him, hips twitching, and he doesn’t let up. he’s fucking you hard now, his moans getting louder.

“feels so fuckin’ good,” he groans. “you’re so perfect.”

the pressure on your clit is increasing and you can’t help but scream out.

“there she is,” he breathes. “my good girl. takin’ me, beggin’ for it. so ready for it.”

you’re barely hanging on now, body wrecked and trembling, but he just keeps going, keeps holding you through it like you’re everything.

“gonna give you my baby.”

you choke on a sob, hips lifting into him, and he grabs your thigh, presses you down, fucking you through the ache, the heat, the ache of wanting.

“you want that?” he pants. “want me to come inside, make you a mum?”

“yes,” you breathe, almost crying. “please, matty- just give it to me. give me everything.”

he moans, hips jerking once, twice, but he holds himself back.

you’re both shaking now, sweat slick on your skin, his chest flush to yours, thrusts rough and deep and constant. your hands are on his face, holding him close, and his eyes are locked on yours like he can’t look anywhere else.

“fuckin’ love you,” he breathes, barely audible over the sound of your bodies. “love you so much, angel, can’t- can’t even breathe.”

you nod, heart pounding, lips parted. “i love you. love you. want it with you- all of it.”

he groans, kissing you again, spit connecting your lips.

“wanna come with you,” he pants, voice breaking. “wanna feel you clench around me when i let go- want it to happen together, alright?”

“please,” you whisper, tears in your eyes. “please, matty- i’m so close.”

he doesn’t stop dragging fast little circles, and you cry out, head falling back into the pillow.

“then let go,” he gasps, hips jerking, pace starting to lose rhythm. “c’mon, love, come with me. let’s fuckin’ do it.”

and you do. even more intense than earlier.

your back is arching into his chest, and you come with a sob, pulsing around him, holding him deep. and he’s right there with you, moaning your name, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, hips pressed all the way in.

he holds still, chest heaving, arms trembling as he keeps you close, breath fanning across your cheek.

with a final few shallow thrusts as he buries his cum as deep as he can, staying right there.

you feel him come, the warmth of it, the way he groans through his teeth, the way he holds your hips down like he’s scared it might spill out.

“fuck- there you go, love,” he moans, stilling deep inside you, panting. “takin’ all of it. every drop.”

you whimper under him, shaking, and he doesn’t move, just stays buried, soft kisses pressed to your jaw, his hand smoothing down your thigh.

“look at that,” he whispers, shifting back just slightly, just enough to watch.

his come dripping slow.

he moans again, “so fuckin’ hot. swear to god, m’never pullin’ out again.”

you laugh, breathless and ruined, reaching for him.

he slides back in and tucks it all back inside you, like he’s sealing the promise himself.

“m’gonna stay like this,” he murmurs. “keep it in, make sure it sticks.”

and you nod, eyes fluttering closed as he holds you, still inside, the two of you wrapped up in everything you just made.

“love you so much, matty.”

he cups your face and strokes his thumb over your cheek, “love you, darling.”

[buckysonlyangel]

The Line We Keep Crossing

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

New Avengers!Bucky x New Avengers!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes hate each other. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourselves. Forced to work together on a mission, the lines between hate and heat start to blur. He swore he’d never let anyone get close again and you had your own walls up. But now, the walls are cracking. And when he looks at you like that… you don’t look away.

Word count: 3,9k

Tags/Warnings: enemies to lovers, unresolved sexual tension, mutual pining, emotional repression, slow-burn, team teasing, found family dynamics

AUTHORS NOTE: i’ve never sat down and genuinely tried writing a fic until now, So! Please bear with me. If theres any mistakes or anything, let me know. Give me any and all constructive criticism & feedback that you have. I’m wanting to improve and get better at writing but I need to know where to begin on improving! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy xxx

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

The first time you met James Buchanan Barnes, you instantly hated each other.

You had been a new addition to the team. You’d originally caught Hydra’s interest years ago. They captured you and trained you for years to be the perfect sleeper asset. You went rogue and escaped Hydra when you discovered your handlers had erased parts of your childhood memories.

Yelena called a meeting in the common room to introduce you to everyone and to plan how the next mission would go. You were lounging on your chair like you owned the place, arms crossed, boots on the table, expression unreadable. You hadn’t spoken a word since being introduced.

“Do you really think this is smart, Yelena?” Bucky asked, not looking at you, practically pretending you weren’t even in the room. “She’s unpredictable.”

You sat up, leaning forward. “Unpredictable’s better than being a glorified antique with trust issues.”

The room got quiet. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you.

Bucky turned to fully face you. His steel-blue eyes were cold. “You have no idea who you’re talking to.”

You leaned in closer. “Neither do you.”

Yelena coughed. “Alright! Sexual tension aside-“

“WHAT?” you both snapped.

“-you’re stuck with each other,” Yelena said. “Intel says Hydra’s reforming under a new alias. Go in, figure it out, and try not to kill each other. You two know Hydra the best.”

Bucky had this constant brooding and horrible attitude towards everything and everyone that irked you. As luck would have it, you had to deal with it every single day now since you’re part of the team.

He hated that you always had a comeback to everything; you always had something to say.

You brushed past him on your way to your bag, feeling the heat of his glare on your back.

"Keep looking at me like that, Barnes, and I'll start charging rent."

He didn't respond. He just sat in the corner, fumbling with his metal arm, jaw clenched like he was fighting demons only he could see.

You almost pitied him. Almost.

Instead, you tossed him a file. “Found something. Hydra's operating under a biotech shell company. The lab is in Berlin."

He looked up, wary. "And you just stumbled across that?"

"I've got connections," you said, “Unlike you, people still answer my calls."

He stood, suddenly too close. "And unlike you, I don't lie for a living."

You didn't back down. "Maybe if you stopped brooding and started trusting me, we could finish this mission faster."

At the lab, he boosted you through a ventilation shaft without a word. His hands lingered on your hips longer than necessary.

Neither of you mentioned it.

The mission was chaos.

Gunfire. Adrenaline. Explosions.

And then, you jumped in front of Bucky, taking a bullet in the leg. It wasn't deep. But it was enough to slow you down.

Bucky immediately grabbed your arm and dragged you behind cover. “You're hurt."

"I've had worse," you gritted.

He ripped fabric off a nearby curtain and pressed it to the wound. "Stop trying to be a martyr."

After the two of you got back from the mission, the team was having a movie night in the common room. Bob sat next to you while you had your legs resting over Bob’s legs and your head lying on the armrest. Yelena sat on the other side of Bob, with Alexei sitting next to her, rambling on about some story from something before the team formed.

You heard Bucky before say your name as he walked in, “Do you have to take up half the space on the couch?” You dangled your head over the armrest so you’re looking at Bucky upside down.

“There’s plenty of space on the ground, Terminator.”

“That’s very original, doll.”

A pause. You’re both staring at each other. Bucky with that stone-cold expression on his face, and you with your mouth parted slightly. You felt like you forgot how to breathe for a second.

You recovered as fast as you could, and you squinted your eyes at him. “God, you’re a fossil. Who says doll anymore?” You crack a joke to distract from the very fact that his little nickname had a slight effect on you. You’d felt a flutter in your stomach.

“Okay,” Ava pipes up from the kitchen where she’s making popcorn. “Moving on… movie time!” she exclaimed, walking over to a beanbag chair in the corner of the room.

“We’re watching Alvin and the Chipmunks.” You quickly grabbed the remote before anyone else could reach for it.

“Alvin and the… what?”

“That movie’s stupid.” You had forgotten John was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and now muttering something about talking chipmunks.

“No one asked you?” You started, “Alvin and the Chipmunks is a cinematic masterpiece. One of the greatest movies of all time.”

“I’m intrigued.” Bob chimed in, “I vote we watch it.” He smiled down at you.

“This, Bob, is why you’re my favorite.”

Ava threw popcorn at you while Yelena gasped, throwing a hand to her heart as if it were in pain.

“All of you are ridiculous.” There was a hint of a smile on Bucky’s mouth, a slight fondness. Maybe.

You rolled your eyes at Bucky and pressed play on the movie. “Shut up, it’s starting,” you said, giving Bucky a forced smile. Bucky decided he’d sit on the floor directly in front of you, leaning his back up against the couch. He was so close you thought maybe you could smell his hair. Or maybe you were just imagining things from being deliriously tired after the mission today.

You swore Bucky was sighing on purpose, deliberately trying to annoy you.

“You know,” you muttered, “if you sigh any louder, we’re going to have to give you a dramatic exit cue.”

“I’m trying to focus.”

“You haven’t looked at the screen once.”

“Because someone won’t shut up.”

You could admit, you couldn’t stop yourself from singing along with the chipmunks and had to mention that they’d have to speak and sing slowly so that when they sped it up it would sound normal.

You smiled, “Aw. Don’t like a little noise, Barnes? You didn’t seem to mind the gunshots this morning when I saved your ass.”

He turns to you fully now, blue eyes narrowed. “You didn’t save me. You distracted the target by getting yourself shot.”

“I call that multitasking.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “You’re delusional.”

“And you’re ancient.”

He leans toward you, something sharp behind his smirk. “Still managed to keep up with you in the field.”

You lean in, a whisper of space between you. “Only because I slowed down.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh my God,” Ava mutters, practically phasing out of the room. “Get a room. Or have a knife fight. Preferably not both.”

You scoff and fold your arms, laying back down. “Why does it have to be either?”

Alexei, currently halfway through a jumbo bag of kettle corn, gives you a wink. “This is better than the movie.”

An hour in, Bucky’s arm brushes yours. An accident, probably.

You ignore it.

Then it happens again. Deliberate, definitely. You stiffen, daring a glance his way. He’s pretending to focus on the movie, jaw tight.

The credits roll and all that’s heard are soft murmurs and loud snores. Alexei passed out in the corner of the couch, Yelena curled into Bobs’ side, and Ava getting up from the beanbag chair.

The team starts drifting toward their rooms, leaving the couch unoccupied. Except for you. Bucky still on the floor.

“I’m surprised you didn’t storm off halfway through,” you say, eyes still on the screen.

He hums. “Didn’t feel like giving you the satisfaction.”

You turn to look at him and he’s already watching you. Eyes unreadable, but softer than you expect.

You swallow. “Do you hate me that much?”

“No,” he says after a beat. “If I hated you, I wouldn’t sit through an hour and a half of weird talking and singing squirrels and Alexei’s snoring just to sit next to you.”

You blink. “Is that- was that a compliment?”

He smirks. “Don’t get used to it.”

A long pause.

Then, “You’re not… the worst to work with,” you admit quietly.

He gets up to sit next to you on the couch, voice low. “You say that like it’s a confession.”

“Maybe it is.”

His arm brushes yours again. You let it stay.

For a few seconds, the silence is easy. Almost comfortable.

Then he adds, “Still could’ve handled that guy in the lab better.”

You shove him. “Oh, fuck off, Barnes.”

He grins, and this time, it’s real.

You should’ve just gone to bed.

That would've been the smart move. But no. Instead, you were going to the gym so you could work out until you physically couldn’t stay awake. When you found him in the training gym.

Sweaty and shirtless.

Punching the shit out of a sandbag like it owes him money.

You stood frozen in the doorway for a full second longer than necessary. Which he noticed. Of course, he did.

“Like what you see?” he asked without missing a beat, knuckles slamming into the bag in a clean rhythm, the metal of his left arm glinting under harsh overhead lights.

You rolled your eyes. “Only wondering how a guy that old can still be so dramatic.”

He caught the bag mid-swing and turned slowly, towel slung around his neck now, chest rising with each breath. He watched you stare at his hands and smirked. “You want to fight me, huh?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Pretty sure I’d win.”

His grin turned wolfish. “Prove it.”

You were circling him on the mats, heart pounding like a drumline. Bucky’s in full defensive mode; legs planted, arms up, expression maddeningly calm. You’ve sparred before, but it’s never felt like this.

You lunge first, pretend to strike to the left, then a real strike to his ribs. He blocks, twists, grabs your wrist. You use the momentum, flip him over your shoulder, but he lands with a roll and springs back up, grinning like the bastard he is.

“Better,” he breathes.

“Don’t patronize me.”

You throw another punch, he dodges, but just barely. This time when he catches your arm, he pulls you forward, off-balance, chest to chest for one fleeting moment. His breath fans across your cheek.

“Getting sloppy,” he murmurs.

“Getting distracted,” you shoot back and slam your knee into his thigh.

He grunts, but doesn’t let go. Instead, he flips you to the mat like a damn magician, and suddenly you’re pinned beneath him. His metal hand is braced beside your head. His knee between your thighs. His face inches from yours.

Neither of you moves.

You can feel the beat of his heart, or maybe it’s yours, thundering between you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, his voice low and rough.

You glare up at him, teeth clenched, and raise an eyebrow. “You think I want this?”

His gaze drops to your lips. Just for a second, but it’s long enough for you to notice. “You tell me.”

God, he’s so close. You could kiss him. Or kill him. You’re not sure which would be more dangerous.

You let your head fall back to the mat with a groan. “Get off me, Barnes.”

He hesitates.

Then slowly he shifts back, standing with a hand extended. You don’t take it and you get up on your own.

He watches you wipe sweat off your brow with your sleeve, his expression unreadable.

“You’re getting better,” he says after a moment.

“Don’t start being nice to me now,” you mutter, grabbing your water bottle.

“Fine. You’re still a pain in the ass.”

You smirk. “That’s more like it.”

Later, you're alone in the locker room, replaying it all in your head: the way his hand lingered just a second too long, the look in his eyes when he had you pinned, the question he didn’t ask out loud.

You’re in deep. And worse?

You’re pretty sure he is too.

It’s supposed to be a clean mission. Infiltrate. Secure the intel. Get out before anyone knows you were there. But of course, it goes to hell by the second checkpoint. A firefight breaks out. Ava disappears into the shadows. Yelena’s laughing while blowing up a generator. Alexei is… mostly yelling.

And you?
You’re pinned behind a half-destroyed column, out of ammo, and flanked on both sides.

Naturally, Bucky finds you first.

“Really?” he says as he slides into cover beside you, bullets zipping overhead. “Ran out already?”

“I was busy,” you snap, glaring at him.

“Maybe if someone hadn’t rerouted us-“

“Right, blame the guy who saved your ass twice tonight.”

“Once.”

“Twice.”

He huffs. “You are impossible.”

You lean around the edge of the pillar, then duck back. “And you’re still here.”

He glances at you, quickly but sharply. “Yeah. I am.”

The words sit heavy between you. Unsaid things lingering like smoke.

You escape through the east wing, alarms blaring behind you. The evac van is waiting two miles out. You and Bucky are the first ones to reach the rendezvous point. Lungs burning and adrenaline humming under your skin like electricity. He paces as you catch your breath, jaw clenched, hands still twitching like he doesn’t know how to be still.

You watch him, and he watches you watching him.

“You got a staring problem?” he mutters, eyes flicking to yours.

“You keep looking at me like that,” you shoot back, stepping closer.

“Like what?”

“Like you want to say something but won’t.”

He stops moving. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do.”

His voice drops low. “You’re looking for a fight.”

You match him, toe-to-toe now. “Maybe I’m looking for something else.”

His eyes darken, scanning your face. “You think this is a game?”

“No,” you say, and your voice isn’t teasing anymore. “I think it’s dangerous how much I notice you. How close we get without crossing the line.”

Bucky’s breath hitches. You don’t back down.

“You look at me like that again,” you whisper, “and I will kiss you.”

Silence.

Heavy, loaded, silence.

His voice is rough when he finally speaks. “What if I want you to?”

The words gut you.

You’re still close enough to feel the tension rolling off him like a second skin. He’s all restraint, tight jaw, coiled muscles. Like he’s holding something back because he doesn’t trust it. Doesn’t trust himself. Your heart’s hammering now. You can’t look away, can’t step back, and neither can he.

“I should walk away,” he says, breathless.

“But you won’t,” you reply.

His hand twitches at his side. Like he wants to touch you. Like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed.

You tilt your chin up. “Do it.”

He steps in.

And then-

“ETA 45 seconds,” Val’s voice crackles through the comms. “Keep it in your pants, Romeo and Juliet.”

You jump back. Bucky’s already turning away, cursing under his breath. The moment has been yanked from both of you.

You don’t speak again until the van pulls up and the side doors slide open. The team piles in. Yelena smirking like she knows everything, Alexei humming a Soviet battle song under his breath, Ava silent and unreadable in the corner.

Bucky sits across from you.

He doesn’t say a word.

But he looks at you.

And the next time he does, you don’t look away.

You can’t sleep, again.

The safehouse is too quiet. Rain taps steadily against the windows, thunder rumbling in the distance like a warning. Most of the team’s passed out or pretending to be, except for you. Pacing the empty hallway in a worn hoodie, mind spinning with too much adrenaline and too many unsaid things.

You don’t even mean to end up outside the gym.

There he is.

Bucky. Alone. Shirtless. Again.

Punching the training dummy like it insulted his dead relatives.

You lean against the doorframe. “You only hit like that when you're avoiding something.”

He doesn't turn around. “What are you doing awake?”

“You think I sleep well when you're in the next room breathing like a storm cloud?”

He stops.

Slowly, he turns toward you. Sweat clings to his collarbone. His hair’s damp and pushed back. That unreadable look is on his face again. The one that lives somewhere between fury and desire.

You fold your arms. “You keep looking at me like you want to say something. But all you ever do is run.”

“I don’t run.”

“Oh, please. You’ve been dodging me for a week.”

He steps closer, jaw clenched. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want the truth, Barnes. Whatever the hell this is between us? I’m done pretending it’s not there.”

His voice is low, dangerous. “You think I don’t feel it?”

“Then why haven’t you done anything about it?”

He’s in your space now. So close you can feel the heat rolling off him. “Because if I do, I’m not walking away from it,” he says roughly. “And I don’t know how to want someone without ruining it.”

That stuns you for a second. He’s not yelling. He’s not smirking. He’s just raw.

You swallow. “You won’t ruin it. You’re allowed to have good things.”

He laughs once, bitterly. “I ruin everything.”

“You’ve survived things. You have had other people ruin things and blame it all on you.”

That gets him.

He grabs your wrist, not hard, but firm. Anchoring. His breath is shallow.

“You push every button I have,” he murmurs.

“Then push back.”

His hand slides to your jaw. You tilt into it without thinking.

“I should walk away.”

“But you won’t,” you breathe.

His gaze flickers to your lips. “Say it.”

You meet his eyes. “Just kiss me already.”

And he does.

Hard. Desperate. Almost like he’s starving and you’re the only thing he wants. Like he’s been holding this in since the moment you met. His hands find your waist, your back, your hair, everywhere at once. You fist the hem of his shirt, dragging him closer, losing yourself in the taste of him.

It’s not slow. It’s not sweet.

It’s everything you’ve been holding back and then some.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing like you’ve just sprinted a mile. Your forehead rests against his, your hands still tangled in his shirt.

“I’m not good at this,” he admits, his voice rough and honest.

“You’re doing fine,” you whisper.

Another beat. Another look.

Then he kisses you again, slower this time. Less of a battle, more promise.

You don’t know what happens next. You don’t care.

You and Bucky don’t speak about the kiss.

Not that night. Not the next morning. Not during briefing. Not during prep. And definitely not when you’re sitting side-by-side in the Thunderbolt jet, two feet apart, both of you pretending nothing’s changed.

(It has. It definitely has.)

You pretend not to notice the way he keeps stealing glances at you. He pretends he’s not tense every time you brush past him.

The others pretend they don’t notice the giant neon sign flashing over your heads that reads:

“WE MADE OUT AND DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO NOW.”

Spoiler: they notice.

The mission is simple on paper:
Clear the abandoned HYDRA facility. Gather whatever intel is still buried in the data vault. Extract. No drama.

You’re paired with Bucky, of course. Because fate is cruel, and Val is nosy and probably did it on purpose.

“Professionalism,” you mutter under your breath as the two of you move down a dark corridor. “We are professionals.”

“Right,” Bucky murmurs, checking corners.

“This is totally normal.”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“Because if I do, I’ll remember how your mouth felt on mine.” He freezes at your words, “Keep up, Barnes.”

He curses under his breath and follows. You don’t look back, but your smirk betrays you.

You hit the vault room twenty minutes later. It's quiet, dusty, power barely running.

You kneel beside the terminal, fingers flying across the old touchscreen. Bucky leans over your shoulder to scan the files.

Too close. You take a sharp breath in. You can feel the heat of him. The way his breath brushes your neck. The air between you hums.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he says lowly.

“Doing what?”

“This. Circling it. Pretending like we didn’t cross a line.”

“We didn’t cross a line,” you say flatly.

“You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.”

He pulls back a fraction. “You regret it?”

You pause for a split second and then, without looking at him, “No.”

Bucky’s silent for a beat too long. “I don’t either,” he finally says.

And damn it, your hands stutter on the keyboard. You both fall quiet again. Too quiet.

You return to the safehouse just after dusk, mission completed. Data intact. Zero injuries.
Should be a win.

Except-

You open the door, and the team is waiting for you. Literally waiting.

Yelena, sprawled on the couch with popcorn.

Alexei is sipping tea suspiciously slowly.

Ava is leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

Bob, who desperately wanted to come on the mission even if it meant staying in the safe house all the time, is sitting on the floor in front of the couch with a crossword puzzle.

And Val is reading a magazine upside down.

“…Hi?” you say slowly.

Alexei grins, getting right into it, “So. You and Barnes. How long?”

You blink. “What?”

Yelena’s eyes sparkle. “Please. The sexual tension in the jet was louder than Alexei’s breathing.”

“I do not breathe loudly,” Alexei protests.

Ava chimes in, monotone: “We took bets.”

Val doesn’t look up. “I said it would happen two weeks ago. So, I win.”

You stare. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, honey,” Yelena says sweetly. “You two were flirting like war criminals in denial from the beginning.”

Bucky enters behind you and freezes the second he sees the setup. “You told them,” he mutters.

“I did not tell them!”

“You didn’t have to,” Ava says. “We have eyes.”

“You’re the least subtle people alive,” Yelena adds. “You basically radiate ‘we made out and now we’re pretending we didn’t.’”

Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God.”

Alexei claps him on the back. “I am proud of you. Emotional growth!”

“I’m leaving,” Bucky announces, already turning.

“Run, soldier,” Ava says. “We’ll still know.”

You watch him go. Then turn back to the team, arms crossed. “Can you all just mind your own damn business?”

“Nope,” Yelena chirps.

“Never,” says Val.

You find Bucky on the roof. He doesn’t turn when you approach. He just sighs. “So, I guess they all know.”

“Yeah.”

Silence stretches.

Then,

“You really don’t regret it?” you ask quietly.

He glances at you, his eyes softer now. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

You nod. “Me neither.”

A beat.

“I’m not good at this,” he says again, his voice rough. “Letting people in.”

“You don’t have to be good at it.” You step closer. “You just have to stop running.”

He finally looks at you. He really looks. Then, softly but certain, “Come here.”

You feel a smile tugging on your lips as you make your way towards him. When he kisses you this time, it’s less fire and more gravity. Like he knows what he wants now. Like he’s not fighting it anymore. You don’t stop him. You don’t want to. You just kiss him back like you mean it.

Because you do.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

authors note: hi! thank you so much for reading, if you have any requests for anything you want me to write feel free to send them in! xx

[f0xglover]

Stay the Night (but keep it undercover)

Summary: Your boyfriends out of town, and you do the thing you know you shouldn't do. Call up Billy Hargrove. Again.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female! Reader

Warnings!: 18+!!!! Cheating, smut, some angst.

Word count: 4,000

The phone rings once, twice, three times as you bite your lip. Honestly, you’re about to hang up. This is stupid anyway. Calling him again like this. You should just hang up. You should just-

“Mayfield residence.”

You pause. “Oh. Uh. Sorry. I thought I was calling the Hargrove residence?” You fumble, twirling the cord around your finger as you try to think if you dialed the right line. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe it was a sign that you shouldn’t be doing what you’re doing.

There’s a snort on the other end.

“Billy! It’s for you!” The girls voice says from afar and then she comes closer into the receiver again. “May I ask who is calling?” She says in a sarcasticly sweet voice and you’re about to respond before you hear a scuffle on the other end. “Hey!”

“Beat it, pipsqueak!” Billys voice says.

“Oh I’m sorry am I embaressing King Hargrove?” The girl says, voice shaded in annoyance and then she lets out a “Hey!” as you hear a door slam shut and you have no doubt it was likely in his little sisters face.

“Billy here.” His charasmatic voice responds, dripping in sauve machismo so much that you almost want to laugh at how thick he lays it on.

“Um….hi.” You say, knowing you should probably state your name seeing as how many girls probably called him but you wanted to see if he could tell it was you.

There’s a pause on the other end before you can practically hear the smile on the other line. His voice fully changes now, back to what you were used to. Soft and gruff. “Hey, angel. Let me guess. Boyfriend out of town again?”

You feel goosebumps break out onto your skin just like that. Of course he knows it was you, and of course he knows why you’re calling. “Yeah.” You respond sheepishly, leaning against your wall. So bad, so wrong…

“Where is he off to this time? Some dumb family vacation?” Billy asks, sounding annoyed, but not at me.

“Skiing with friends.” You respond. “So. I was just. Calling to catch up.”

“Catch up.” He responds. “Right, right….and where exactly would you like to catch up, angel? Should I come over there this time?”

“No!” You blurt out quickly. “My moms home. She can’t see me bringing over another guy, she’ll get suspcious and judgey. Can’t I go there?”

“You know I’d never kick you out of my bed.” He says with a exhale. “But the stepmom and sister are here and you aren’t exactly quiet.”

Okay, more goosebumps. You close your legs together a little.

“How about my car?” He asks easily and you huff.

“Not a chance.” You had both tried that once before. Before you had a boyfriend. When you and Billy fooled around routinely. He had a nice car, sure, but it was cramped and uncomfortable as all hell, not to mention how slippery and hot it got in there, and you swear you were still bruised from the indent of the seat buckle in his backseat.

“Alright, I know a spot. I’ll come get you.” He says instead and before you can ask for more details the line goes dead. That’s it. No information, no timeline, he’s just gone. You curse under your breath as you rush off to your room to get ready.

+++

Twenty minutes later and you’re cruising down a dark road with the wind in your hair. It was a little annoying because now you were going to look like a mess, but there was something exhilerating about his fast driving and feeling this free.

He keeps stealing glances at you and you can swear he’s trying to hold back a smile. You see his lip quirk multiple times. He’s trying so hard to be cool and aloof and sexy but you can tell he’s glad you called. And why wouldn’t he be? The two of you always had great sex. Fantastic sex. The last time you got into a fight with your boyfriend and called him, you didn’t even need to say anything before he was coming over and bending you like a pretzel. And you swore it wouldn’t happen again, but here you were. Calling him. And here he was, stealing you away.

The music is cranked up and you like it. You like that you don’t have to talk. You like that you can just be around him.

You let out a gasp and grab onto the door handle as he suddenly veers off the road, driving smack in the middle of a field. “Billy!”

“Relax.” He replies. “I know what I’m doing.” He pulls further in before cranking the engine. He gives you a look before opening his door and getting out.

Confused, you turn and watch him open the trunk as he gets out…blankets?

You hurry out of the car and, yep, those are blankets. He’s laying down blankets and even pillows and you stare in slight disbelief that he’d actually set up something nice like this. Sure it wasn’t anything huge but for a quick fuck you didn’t expect it. Honestly you figured he’d park behind a abandoned building and just take you on the hood of the car instead since you didn’t like the interior.

“You going to stare or are you going to come look at the goddamn stars?” He asks, and you almost want to laugh, because what the fuck? Now he wants to stargaze? You thought the setup was just for sex.

You walk over, getting onto your knees, laying down on the blankets as he sits beside you and leans back with his arm under his head. “My mom used to teach me about constellations and shit when I was little.” He mumbles. He says it like he wants to tell you, but at the same time he’s putting on a front, almost like in case you think it was dumb or something. You hated when he did that. When he pretended, when he tried to repress things.

You stare at him, still kind of confused to all this, but you just let it be. You prop yourself up on your elbows as you look up at the sky. “Yeah? What’s that one?”

He side eyes you. “You shitting me?”

You stare back, pretty eyes large and innocent as you shake your head.

“Christ, kid, that’s the big dipper. It’s like, The most widely known one.”

“Oh.” You said, looking back up. He leans in closer, pointing his finger up and making your eyes trace it as he shows you which stars go together, like a connect the dots in the sky.

The next couple minutes go on like that but now you’re more comfortable. Head on his chest, his arm slung around you as you point at random stars and he tells you them. Some he just says the names. Some he gives you these full, sweeping stories about why they’re named that - so many stories you had no idea about.

“You know, I could be making all this shit up and your cute little dumbass would have no idea.” He says, leaning in like he’s going to playfully nip you as he squeezes your hip and you laugh, almost giggle but hating yourself for it because who the hell giggles?

“I know you’re not. And I’m sorry no one taught me about the stars, alright? But I’m aware now.” You say as you push him gently, not liking him calling you dumb.

“You’re aware because I taught you.” He grins, leaning in again. Suddenly he swirls up over you, his legs beside yours, caging you in as he looms overhead. “Taught you so many things, didn’t I?” He lowers his lips to your neck and finally, finally you’re getting what you want. Not that you didn’t like the stars. It was honestly more romantic than anything your boyfriend ever did but this is what you wanted, this is why you called him, this is what you expected. You didn’t know how to handle sweet Billy but you knew how to handle horny Billy.

He trails kisses down your neck to your collarbone. “Taught you about the stars. Taught you how to drive stick…” His voice lowers, nearly whispering into your skin. “Taught you how to wrap those pretty pink lips around a dick. Taught you how to fuck.”

“Billy…” You whine a little, squirming under him as he almost stars to suck a bruise into your skin. “Stop. No bruises. No marks. No hickeys.”

He nearly growls at that, looking up at you with dark eyes. God, he had the most gorgeous blue eyes you’d ever seen, but when he got mad or lust-filled, it was like a cloud passing over a bright blue sky. “Sounds like no fun, angel.” He shoots back. “It might heal before your boyfriend even gets back. If it doesn’t, just cover it with makeup, for christssake-” He goes to dip back down, and you put your hands up, pushing his chest to stop him.

“No. Marks.” You say again. Before you can say more suddenly his hand flies up your skirt and presses against you. You gasp and arch and he grins wildly. It was like he didn’t like being told what to do and needed back control.

“Don’t want you thinking about him while you’re here with me, got it?” He murmurs, kissing your jaw, your cheek. “No more talking about that. Say it.”

“N-no more talking about…” You almost say your boyfriends name but think better of it. “That.” You agree. He’s rubbing gently over your panties and you bite back a moan. You don’t want to sound so desperate already but fuck, he had magic fingers. He knew it, too. He had made you come like this, from rubbing alone, numerous times before.

“Pretty girl.” He says, going back to kissing your skin. No marks. No sucking or licking just gentle kisses. “My pretty girl.” and you don’t know why but he’s got your toes curling at those words alone.

“Lemme-” You try to sit up and he lets you, just barely. “Lemme touch you, please, Billy. Been too long. Lemme-” You’re fumbling with his belt and he watches, grinning, sitting back a bit and you can already see him hard in his jeans.

“Love you like this. Needy. Fucking desperate little slut for it, aren’t you?” He says, breathing growing shallow as you unzipper him and push his jeans down just enough. You don’t remove his boxers, not yet. You want to tease him the same way. You press your mouth against his hardon, breathing onto it, a huff of breath that gets it twitching in your face. He laughs, amused, and you grin in return. “Fucking missed you, angel. Fucking, fuck-” His voice dies out as your mouth goes over him teasingly, still clothed as his hips jerk forward. He grabs your head, presses you against it. “Fucking take it, babygirl. Rub your face all over it.” He grunts and you missed this, too. Missed how rough he could be. How mean in his words. How cruel in his degradeation.

He pushes you back now and you land back on the blanket, pillow behind you as he gets back ontop. He pushes his underwear down with a wide smile as he looks at your face, wanting a reaction, the cocky asshole and you know better than to not give him one. “Billy.” You say, reaching forward for it but he swats your hand away.

“What do you want, angel?” He teases, dick already dripping with precum as he smears it over the head with his thumb. He pumps himself, once, twice. “What do you need, hm? Say it, be a good little slut for me.”

“Need you.” You breathe out. “Need you, need you in me, Billy, c’mon.” You whine, bucking your own hips now to show him how much you wanted it. You have to close your eyes because you can’t take his smile anymore. So prideful. So wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong….

He pulls down your panties and his hand goes back to you again as he groans. “God, you’re soaked. Dripping little cunt all over my hands, how’d I get so lucky, huh?” He pushes a finger in all the way to his knuckle and you moan. “See that, baby? Drove you out to the middle of assfuck nowhere so you can be as loud as you want.” He pumps in and out before inserting another as you gasp, arch, shake. “Know how loud you get for me. Loudest girl. Pretty girl.” His praise has you soft and mushy like a puddle in his hands. The way he switched from degrading you and calling you a slut to calling you his and pretty and angel and baby made your head swim.

He stops and your eyes flick open with a little huff of frustration at him no longer inside you. He’s ripping into a condom, using teeth, and you almost want to tell him he could fucking destroy it that way, the idiot, but he just looks down at you. “What? You want it raw again? Want me to fill you up, like I used to?” There’s his teeth again, wolfish grin. “Sorry, angel. Don’t know if you’re clean anymore, do I?” He sneers and you feel like you’ve been gut punched. You liked the dirty talk, the teasing, but that one actually hurt.

“I’m clean.” You said, gritted teeth. “Just because he-”

He pounces forward, hand on your throat. “I said don’t fucking talk about him.” Your eyes roll back. Oh, the choking. You hadn’t had this in a while either. Your boyfriend was vanilla, soft, boring. Billy knew what you liked though. Knew you liked being put in place. Knew you liked it rough. “Besides, not only do you have…” He looks up at the stars like he doesn’t want to say it. “A boyfriend, but you’re also calling me up to fuck you. Who knows how many other guys you beg it for, huh?”

Your all swimmey and wet and you’re not really here but your eyes focus on him as you gently shake your head. He loosens up just a little so you can talk, breathe better, be here. “I’d never.” You gasp out. “Never call anyone but you. Always you, Billy.”

“Fuck.” He drops his hand away, back to the side of you as his other hand goes to his dick as he steers it forward. You feel the tip and close your eyes as you brace for entrance. He goes slow, teasingly slow before he sinks in - stretching you as you moan more again. “There she is.” He groans. “Fucking so tight still. So perfect. Like a glove, angel, wear you like a glove. Wanna spear you on my dick, get it up into your guts, make you my own fucking puppet.”

You moan more, dig your nails into the blankets, eyes still closed until he taps your jaw - his signal for you to open them and you do. He loves watching you, and he wants you to watch him, too. You know this. “How long you want, baby?” He asks, driving in and out in a slow tantric rythm. “Quickie? Want me to make you come fast? Want release?” He asks. “Or want me to draw it out? Want me to fuck you all night? Want me to make it ache and stir and drive you fucking nuts?”

You press your face to the side, your legs lifting to wrap around him, to pull him deeper as you both cry out a bit together. He could do it, too. Could come instantly or last all night if you wanted. He was masterful with his cock and you hated to think about how he got there - how much sex he’s must of had with other women.

“Quick.” You mumble. “Fast. Sloppy. Rough.”

“How’d I guess, huh?” He asks. When you first started hooking up, you both were quiet aside from your bodies and the noises that would slip from your mouths. Then he started getting chatty. Now talking during sex and being worked through it was the norm. “So impaitent. Never wanna wait. Just now, now, now.” He says, picking up his pace, thrusting so hard it hurts but hurts so good.

“Billy-” But you cut off with a moan, your nails digging into his back before he grabs at them, pins them down.

“No marks, remember?”

You groan. “No. No that was just for me. I need to. I need to-” you needed to hold on, to stabalize, and now he’s thrusting harder and he’s so deep in and you can feel him rearrange your guts and making your eyes water.

“Nope. No marks.” He says again and god he’s a bastard. “Just gunna take it, babygirl. Just gunna. Fucking. Take it.” He says with each hard thrust. Before Billy you never came from just penetration. You’d always needed clitorial simulation. You didn’t even think it was possible for you to cum otherwise, and then Billy, Billy, Billy. You could feel the veins in his cock twitching inside you, against your walls.

Your eyes close again but he taps your jaw and you struggle to keep them open. He’s fucking you so good. Fucking you numb. You can see sweat glistening on him, and you wish you had taken his shirt off, wish you could see every scrap of skin he had. “Going limp on me already? You haven’t even come yet.” He unpins your arms, grabbing your legs that were around him and pulling them up, driving into you in such a way you actually scream out. God, oh god, it felt good. It felt so good. Your ass and back aren’t even on the blanket anymore at how he has you hoisted so he can just dive in more. You jerk yourself, meeting him for each thrust, both of you fast and sweating and grunting and - “Billy. Billy. I’m, I need,”

“I know, I know.” He says, voice almost shakey. “Gunna get you there, babygirl... Gunna get us both there. Together, yeah?” He says and if he could smile right now you’re sure he would be. “Be good. Be so good for me. My good girl, yeah? My sweet little cock whore.”

You groan as you both keep going, but your legs are numb, and you feel like a goner, and suddenly, his one hand is on your throat, and your eyes are fluttering. He squeezes just enough, just enough that you lull, and your body hitches - orgasm washing over, and you’re jerking and cuming and then you feel him thrust with a loud grunt and still, burying deep into you and you feel him, feel him cum. His arm still propping you up is shaking, and you watch the muscles and veins bulge before you close your eyes, spent.

You feel yourself placed back down. You feel him pull out and you whine at the loss of feeling full.

You don’t know how long it is until you open your eyes again, finally able to breathe, finally able to be.

Billys flat on his back, looking up at the stars again.

“Thanks.” You say, looking down at yourself, needing a towel or something but he’s just sitting there so you grab at the corner of the blanket awkwardly and wipe yourself with it. You look to him to see if he’ll object but he doesn’t. You don’t like how quiet he is now. “So good, Billy. So good.” You mumble, still a little cockdrunk.

“I know it was.” He says, voice back to gruff and no longer soft.

Oh. Well. Guess all the sweetness and petnames are done with. Guess he got his fix and can drop you off now. You don’t know why, but it feels weird. Makes you feel….wrong, wrong, wrong your brain repeats.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know.” You say weakly as you prop yourself up on your elbows, smoothing down your skirt and trying to readjust. “The blankets and the stars and stuff. I mean, I loved it, don’t get me wrong but I mean, we could've just-”

“Fucked. Yeah. I know.” He laughs, but it’s not a real laugh, it’s hard.

“Okay, uh, are you good? Did I do something?”

“No. You didn’t do anything. I just forgot that you only want one thing from me. Stupid, Hargrove. Just give the girl your dick and shut up, right?” He says, laughing now but at himself. “Pump and dump. Well. Job fucking finished so let’s go.” He says, zipping up his jeans and standing like he’s on fire.

“Woa, okay, no you are mad.” You try to get up as fast as he did but you wobble on your legs and his arms are instantly around your waist.

“Why didn’t you like me?” He asks suddenly, eyes blazing down on you, and yeah wow okay he is angry. He’s got that sadistic expression on he gets when he plays basketball.

“What?” You gasp out, surprised as you hold onto his arms to steady yourself.

“The fuck did I do, huh? What was so wrong about me? I didn’t do shit.”

“Billy, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You say and his grip on you tightens.

“You and me. Don’t bullshit me. You know.” He says, voice constricting. “One week I’m fucking you and making you cum and the next week you have a goddamn boyfriend.”

You look at him, puzzled, knowing you probably look a sight. All wrecked and flushed and confused. It was just sex. You and Billy were always just sex. That was just…what you did. “Gee, Billy, sorry someone actually asked me out and I said yes?” You ask with a pained laugh now. “What? Was I suppose to just fuck you forever? Was that the plan? Be another groupie in the Billy fanclub?”

He tosses you aside and you nearly fall, legs still weak, but you stand on your own.

“I wasn’t fucking anyone else when I was with you.” He snaps. “I thought we had an understanding. I thought we were…” He looks around, stressed. “Exclusive.” He gets out.

“Exclusive?” You’re suddenly feeling like you’re on another planet. “What the hell are you talking about? We fucked. That was it. That was all you wanted.”

“Oh, yeah?” He says, coming forward again fast, like a rabid dog. “That was all I wanted? Bullshit, sweetheart, that was all you wanted!” You want to touch his cheek, smooth his hair back, but he’s practically foaming at the mouth. “Anytime I came around you, you were dragging me off behind the school or under the bleachers or wherever the fuck you could!” He snaps. “I wanted to take you on a fucking date and I walked up to your locker and you shushed me and pulled me into the fucking boiler room. I wasn’t the one who initated all of it. Anytime I tried talking to you, you’d just shut me up and start kissing me and-”

“Stop.” You said, feeling sick suddenly. Holy shit he was right. You did do that. Whenever he’d stride over you just…you just assumed it was for a quickie. You just assumed it was for ass. When he would speak you’d quiet him and seduce him and holy shit you want to throw up. “What are you saying? You wanted to…ask me on a date? You wanted to date me?”

“Then one day I wake up and you’re on his arm like I’m some goddamn joke. And I think I must be, right? That’s all I’m good for, a quick lay. Right? RIGHT?” He barks.

You shake your head quickly. “No. No it wasn’t like that. I just. I didn’t think you wanted me, not like that! I-Billy-fuck, I didn’t know.”

“Get in the car.” He says, walking off as you rush after him.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know. I didn’t know, Billy.” You say again but he’s yanking the car door open and starting the engine and you’re seriously afraid he might leave without you. You look back and realize he hasn’t even picked up the blankets or pillows. He’s so mad he just leaves them, and it makes your heart ache.

But you get in the car. And you’re quiet the whole drive home. Even when he drops you off and peels out in a cloud of dust.

[thethreefaes]

From his curled up spot atop Altair, Howell watched the group stretching their wings. The little dragon mimicking the movements but enjoying his high perch too much to move. Altair didn’t seem to mind, though didn’t join in on the exercise.

Lyra smiled as Hiccup reassured her that he was alright. Though she would watch him a bit closer just to be sure.

“Alright. But be sure to let me know if you need me to help. Your well of magic is shallower than mine.” The forest fae blushed as she remembered the blizzard.

“Stars that was a while ago. Yes, I had brought my wings forth to try to stay warm but I ended up using too much magic. That plus the cold completely sent my magic dormant. So I didn’t have any magic to hide my wings. It’s kinda similar. When a wing is injured, instead of the magic being blocked off, it’s actually unable to be blocked.” Lyra thought of the best way to explain.

“Our magic keeps flowing to the wing and won’t stop until it’s healed. That prevents them from being able to hide. It is also possible for a wing to heal wrong that way.” Lyra fluffed her feathers up in a shudder.

“If I broke a wing but didn’t get it set properly quick enough, the magic would heal the best it could. Meaning a bone could be crooked or misaligned. My mathaír-I mean mother. There were times faes came to her and she had to re-break a bone to properly heal it.” Luckily Lyra hadn’t had to do that. For herself or anyone she’s healed. She honestly wasn’t certain she could.

Her more serious thoughts faded as Hiccup spoke of startling Astrid. It sounded cute that she was so wrapped up around her though. The fae grinned and rubbed Toothless’s head when he showed off his wings.

“I see. You and Hiccup have the same. But I didn’t see anyone with your wings at the Fire Opal village. That’s what I meant. You and Hiccup have amazing wings.” Lyra couldn’t help but compliment Toothless too.

“You two will be the fastest fliers! Once Hiccup’s up there with you there’s no way I’ll be able to keep up.” Lyra tucked in against Hiccup. The feeling of his arm and wing around her made her coo happily. She felt safe. The kind of safe only being close to family could give. The light cooing only growing as Hiccup spoke so proudly of her. The fae blushed when she realized the sound she was making.

“Sorry.” She mumbled embarrassed but even that didn’t dim her smile. “I’m not… I’m not usually the vain one. But I feel really proud of myself. Seeing myself the way you do? I feel strong.” Lyra hugged him tight.

“You’ve done a great job in leading us to our healing. Kiara has been showing a much gentler side. I think-no. I know you’ve helped with that too. And now with little Howell apart of our family, I think she’ll keep the new softer side.”

“I’m not going soft.” Lyra jumped and looked behind them where Kiara had returned. A basket on her arm. Lyra giggled at the “offended” look Kia was giving them.

“I leave and you two start talking slander about me. Rude.” She set the basket on the table.

“And here I brought treats and even some potions to help keep your magic up so you could fly some more.” Lyra glanced at her brother with a grin.

“And that doesn’t make you soft?” Lyra teased.

“No. It makes me thoughtful. Goodness knows he’s not going to stop until either he’s flying like a pro or the sun goes down. Best to keep him healthy to do so.” Kia huffed, but her smile gave her away.

Kiara hung the bloodvine in the kitchen for it to dry. Four long strands were all she was able to find in the snowy mountains. The rich dark red vine was easy to find once she was on the right area. But that wasn’t the only thing she found.

The fae returned to the living area. On the chair a bundle of blankets warmed by the fire. And amongst those blankets was the ice fae’s newest problem. She had no idea what to do with it. Kiara had no clue about these things!

…But Hiccup did. Realizing the chief would be the best to deal with this, Kiara picked the bundle up and headed out into Berk. Finding Hiccup was much easier now. Reaching out with her magic she could sense his signature. Luck was on her side, instead of the forge it seemed Hiccup was at his home. Knocking on his door, she adjusted the heavy bundle.

“Hiccup? I need your assistance with something.” The blankets shifted in her arms and the fae struggled to hold them.

~ @dragonmasterhiccup

[rhettrosunsets]

With You - Bob Floyd X Fem!Reader

Pairing: Bob Floyd X Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Summary: It'd been an agonizingly long day and while you adored the Hard Deck and your squadron most nights, your social battery was on the verge of going out. Luckily, your boyfriend can read you better than you can read yourself, and he knows when you need him.

Based Off This Ask Here!

Masterlist

Warnings: Reader has had a bad day. Reader gets sort of overstimulated. Bob uses pet names like Honey and Baby for the reader. Readers social battery goes out. No use of Y/N. No description of reader.

Notes: Thank you so much for requesting!! I hope I did your ask justice and that you enjoy it! ❤️

The Hard Deck was normally a safe place for you. Typically the entire squadron was always there and it was a way for you guys to unwind and relax and enjoy your Friday nights with each other. The atmosphere was something you typically adored, the echoing of laughs, the sound of pool balls sliding across the tables, and the loud music playing that somehow still to this day caused arguments within the team. It was your favorite place to be with the people you now considered to be family to you.

But tonight? It was just a bit too much for you to handle.

You were sat in between Phoenix and Bob near the pool table, while you sipped your drink with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You felt a bit foggy and like everything was just going in slow motion, you’d had a long day and while you weren’t quite overstimulated yet, everything just felt like too much.

Bob was right next to you with his arm resting against the back of your chair like he always did when the two of you were out, his thumb brushing your shoulder gently, something he often did. It was more to soothe himself rather than you, often a reminder to him that you were there and that you were safe. But right now? it was helping you more than him.

The conversations kept flowing, the music kept playing, and your body was beginning to get that panicky feeling of everything being a bit too much. The tugging feeling in your chest was getting impossible to ignore, and the last thing you wanted to do tonight was cause a scene. You leaned over to Bob and whispered “I think m’gonna go get some air. I just need a minute.”

Bob looked at you quickly, his eyes doing a quick once over to check if you were alright, his eyes softening when he noticed your tensed shoulders and the way you seemed like you wanted to bolt out of the bar, before whispering quietly into your ear “You okay, sweetheart?” his eyes full of concern

“Yeah.” you promised quickly, your voice wobbling the slightest bit.

The promise was a bit too quick for Bob's liking as you jumped off the chair smoothing your shirt down. He could tell you were about to start crying if you stayed here for any longer.

You continued “I just need some fresh air. You stay here, I promise I’ll be okay, you won't even notice i'm gone.” you said with a soft smile, reaching out to squeeze Bob's hand, before walking towards the front doors as fast as you could.

Bob knew that was a lie. You weren't okay, and he could see the signs, but he knew that he needed to give you a few minutes to decompress before he went and checked on you. If he tried now, you'd shut him down and it'd probably do more harm than good, even if his brain was screaming at him to go run after you and give you a big hug right then and there.

You continued walking, your head down as you tried to control your breathing, hoping no one would stop you or notice you so you could just sneak away from all the chaos inside for a bit. You reached the front doors and pushed them open with a big sigh of relief. Your shoes thudded quietly against the deck as you made your way to the edge of the patio, so you could overlook the beach. It hadn’t been a bad day, but it’d been long and honestly physically draining. And now? Well now your social battery was paying the price for it.

Being around the squad helped lift your mood, but they couldn't always help you when your social battery went out too. But having Bob around was always something that comforted you, and had since before the two of you had even started dating. He was someone that never required you to have a social battery.

You let out a slow exhale and wrapped your arms around yourself, letting the breeze and the smell of the ocean air slowly start to calm you down. You felt the tension slowly start to leave your body, and finally for the first time in a while, it felt like you could breathe freely.

The wooden deck cracked behind you, and a smile quirked up on your lips. You didn’t need to turn around to know who had followed you out. Bob always would check on you, even if you said you were fine. “M’okay, baby. I told you that you didn’t have to come out here.” you said, a smile evident in your voice as you continued watching the waves.

“I know. But, I want to be where you are, you're more fun than everyone in there.” Bob said in a slightly teasing tone, as he walked over to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. Your heart started beating quicker as you felt the heat rise to your face, and scoffed slightly “You could be inside having fun with the others you know.” you mumble as you leaned into Bob’s side, his arm a comforting familiar feeling.

“I am having fun." Bob said in mock offense as he looked down at you, a fake offended expression settled across his face before he continued. "This is my favorite part of the night actually. Getting to hold you in my arms will forever top anything that’s going on in there.” You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t move away, just quickly huffing out, “You’re ridiculous, baby.” before leaning your head against his shoulder and let yourself fully relax and let your guard down for a few moments.

The two of you watched the waves crash against the sand, the buzzing noise of the Hard Deck now just a quiet background noise, a comforting ambiance for the evening you where now having with Bob.

Bob didn’t press you for why you were feeling off, or had to come out here. He just knew that he didn’t want you to be alone, and that if sitting outside with you was all it took, then he’d be more than happy to do it. Eventually, you broke the comforting silence that had settled between the two of you, and looked up at him whispering “Thank you. For coming out here, even if I told you that you didn’t have too.”

Bob smiled down at you, his hold tightening a bit before he spoke “Always. I love being with you. You’ll never have to be alone, baby."

Your eyes burned a little as tears threatened to prick your eyes but you quickly reached up to wipe them away before you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you so much, Bob Floyd.”

He smiled wide, adjusting his glasses slightly as he muttered “I love you too, baby.” before cupping your jaw and pulling you into a real kiss that made you burst out with giggles in surprise, as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Even on your hardest days you knew that Bob would always try his best to be with you, and that made you breathe easier than anything else ever could.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷💔💔💔💔💔💔💔🚑🚑🚑🚑🚑🚑🚑☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

21 for 🪷

---

“Even all these years later.”

Not that time heals wounds so well they completely cease to hurt. Ten years after losing his family, Bobby still felt an endless pain for having lost them.

“Yep,” Harry says quietly. “So much so, some of us are even excited to be driving you to LAX.”

Bobby can’t help but chuckle at that.

“You’re right,” he says. “I do feel special.”

Harry smirks, and Bobby feels, not for the first time today, that despite all the chaos, it’s such a privilege to get to see what became of him. 

Athena

Everything is taking too long. The flight takes too long. The landing takes too long. They spend what feels like forever taxiing. It takes an eternity for them to be allowed off the plane. Then, the buffoon sharing a row with her blocks the aisle, taking perhaps four hundred years to remove his bag from the overhead compartment.

“Sir, you need to pack lighter or check your damn bags,” Athena snaps at him. She’s aware she’s being rude. She’s aware airlines are charging to check bags and it’s ridiculous. She doesn’t care. Her husband might be out there. 

---

21 for ��

---

“Maybe I should have let him tell you that,” Buck says. “He’ll be here later. I… I mean, it’s kind of a big change for him. But it’s you, you know? You don’t judge. Or, well, you do… But not about this. And-and maybe you already know. Like, maybe you’ve got that omnipotent, all-knowing spirit thing going for you. Like Mufasa.”

Buck’s cheeks pinken, realize how silly he sounds. 

“I guess… I guess if you’re omnipotent, then I didn’t need to come all this way. Right? Like you’d know, already, how I’m doing. If you’re checking in, that is. I think you would.”

He takes a deep breath.

“It’s good to do things with intention, though,” he continues. “I’ve found that, lately.”

---

21 for 🚑

---

Thick and sugary and disgusting.

“Ugh,” Hen groans. “Eddie, I told you.” 

“Well, I didn’t expect you to hit the gas over a pothole, Hen!” Eddie fires back.

He did not. 

“Uh, don’t you insinuate that this was about my driving,” she scolds. 

Eddie moves his mouth to speak, but then thinks better of it. Good. Don’t defend that thought, Eddie.

Luckily for him, they pull up at the curb in front of the store they’ve been called to. Saved by the patient that needs help, she supposes. But Hen is still annoyed. Even more annoying? By the time they get back in the ambulance, to drive the patient to the hospital, it reeks of hot coffee, creamer, and sugar. 

Just. Like. She. Said. 

🚑

Hen is annoyed for the rest of the day. She can’t help it! She’s just feeling pissy.

---

21 for ☠️

---

“Uh okay…” He says. “I’ll, uh… I will think about that. Later. At a time that isn’t right now.”

Chim nods. “Good. Great. You do that. Don’t tell Maddie until you’re sure.”

Buck blinks. “Alright…”

Like last time, they walk up to Madame Mollard’s door and knock. 

“Where are we?” Jee complains, looking around. “This place is weird.”

“Glendora,” Buck explains. “And, yes. It is.”

Chim hopes Jee doesn’t repeat that little tidbit later. 

---

[thirteenheavens]

dad yunho who has a big breeding kink and wants more kids asap

Make me a Daddy Again||Jeong Yunho

Word count:1k+

Notes: that’s it for today guys I hope you enjoyed <3

You and Yunho are putting your two children to bed, tucking them in and reading them a bedtime story. The kids are both tired, but they still try to protest, wanting to stay up and play with their parents.

"Alright, time for bed," Yunho says firmly, but with a gentle tone. "You both need your rest." The children groan in protest, but they eventually settle down and close their eyes. You and Yunho kiss them goodnight and quietly leave the room, closing the door behind you. As you walk down the hallway towards your bedroom, Yunho wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you close to him.

"Finally, some alone time," he whispers in your ear, his voice low and sultry. You sit at your vanity, removing your makeup and brushing your hair. Yunho stands behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders as he watches you in the mirror.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, his fingers gently massaging your shoulders. You smile at him through the mirror, feeling his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Thank you," you reply softly. "But I'm sure I look tired after dealing with those two little monsters all day." Yunho chuckles, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "You always look beautiful to me, no matter what," he says, his lips brushing against your ear. "Even when you're exhausted."

He moves his hands down to your waist, pulling you back against him. His chest presses against your back as he nuzzles his face into your neck. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, and you know that look in his eyes. It's the same look he gets whenever he wants something from you.

"Yunho," you say, your voice a mixture of amusement and caution. "I know that look." He grins at you through the mirror, his hands roaming over your body. "What look?" he asks innocently, though his actions betray his true intentions.

"The look that says you want something," you reply, turning around in your chair to face him. "And I have a feeling I know what it is." Yunho smirks, his eyes darkening with desire. "You're not wrong," he admits, stepping closer to you. "I do want something."

You raise an eyebrow at him, a playful smile on your lips. "And what might that be, my love?" you ask, your voice laced with a hint of seduction. Yunho leans down, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, caging you in. His face is inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin.

"I want you," he whispers huskily. "I want to make love to you, right here, right now." His words send a jolt of excitement through you, and you can feel your body responding to his closeness. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Are you sure the kids are asleep?" you ask, glancing towards the bedroom door. Yunho nods confidently. "They're out like lights," he assures you. "We won't be interrupted."

Yunho takes your hands in his, his eyes locked onto yours with a serious expression. "I want another baby," he says, his voice filled with longing. Your heart skips a beat at his words. You've talked about having another child before, but it's been a while since the last time you discussed it.

"Yunho..." you begin, a mixture of surprise and excitement in your voice. "Are you sure?" He nods again, squeezing your hands gently. "I've never been more sure of anything," he replies. "I want to see you pregnant again, carrying our child." He leans down to kiss you deeply, his lips moving against yours with a sense of urgency and passion. You can feel the heat between you growing, fueled by his desire to start a family again.

You break the kiss, looking up at him with a mix of desire and caution. "But what about the kids? They're already a handful." Yunho smiles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I know they are," he says. "But we can handle it. We're a team, remember?"

He kneels down in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs. "And besides," he adds, his voice low and sultry. "I think you'd look even more beautiful pregnant." You feel your cheeks flush at his words, your body responding to his touch and his gaze. The thought of carrying his child again is both exciting and intimidating.

"You really want this, don't you?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Yunho nods, his eyes burning with determination. "More than anything," he confirms. "I want to see you grow round with our baby again." You take a deep breath, considering his words carefully. The idea of having another child is both thrilling and terrifying, but you can't deny the love and desire you feel for Yunho.

"Okay," you say finally, a smile spreading across your face. "Let's do it. Let's have another baby." Yunho's face lights up with joy, and he stands up to pull you into a tight embrace. "You won't regret it," he promises, kissing you again with renewed passion. He lifts you up in his arms and carries you to the bed, laying you down gently. His hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour as if it's the first time all over again.

"I love you," he whispers against your skin, his lips trailing kisses down your neck and chest. "And I can't wait to see you pregnant again." Yunho's movements are urgent and impatient as he quickly undresses, his eyes never leaving yours. His muscular body is on full display, his cock standing tall and ready for you. He climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart as he looks down at you with hunger in his eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes, his voice thick with desire. "I need you so badly." He leans down to capture your lips in a deep kiss, his tongue invading your mouth as his hands explore your body once more. He trails his fingers down your stomach, imagining it swollen with his child again.

Yunho breaks the kiss, his smile widening as he gazes down at you. "Please," he begs, his voice filled with need. "Let me make you pregnant again. Let me give you another baby." He positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock teasing your wetness. He looks into your eyes, waiting for your permission.

"Say yes," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "Say yes and I'll fill you up, make you mine again."

"Yes, Yunho," you moan, your body aching for him. "Make me pregnant again. Make me yours." With your consent, Yunho pushes into you slowly, filling you completely. He groans at the sensation, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he begins to move.

"Fuck," he mutters, his eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. "You feel so good. So tight and wet for me." He starts to thrust into you with a steady rhythm, his movements becoming more urgent as he chases his release. He's determined to make this time count, to give you the baby you both want so badly.

"Make me a daddy," he repeats, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you come around me, want to fill you up with my cum." His thrusts become harder and deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars. He leans down to capture your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting gently as he continues to pound into you.

"You're going to look so beautiful pregnant again," he growls against your skin. "Your breasts will get bigger, your belly will grow round and full." He reaches down to rub your clit, his fingers moving in quick circles as he feels you start to tighten around him. Yunho's growls become more animalistic as he loses himself in the moment, his thrusts becoming erratic and desperate. He can feel your walls clenching around him, and he knows you're close to your climax.

"That's it," he grunts, his fingers working faster on your clit. "Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock and let me make you a mother again." He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle of his thrusts and hitting even deeper inside you. The new position makes you cry out in pleasure, your body trembling beneath him.

"I'm gonna cum," he warns, his voice strained. "I'm gonna fill you up with my seed, make sure it takes." You try to stifle your moans as you feel Yunho's hot cum flood your insides, his cock pulsing with each spurt. He buries himself deep inside you, his hips jerking as he empties himself completely.

"Take it," he groans, his grip on your thigh tightening. "Take all of it, baby. I want every drop to stay inside you." He collapses on top of you, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath. His body is slick with sweat, and he nuzzles his face into your neck, placing soft kisses on your skin.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice filled with tenderness despite the roughness of his actions. "I love you so much, and I can't wait to see you pregnant again." Yunho stays buried inside you, his cock still hard despite his release. He doesn't want to pull out, wanting to keep his seed deep within you where it can take root. He gently rolls you onto your side, spooning you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist. His chest presses against your back, his breath warm against your ear.

"I'm going to stay like this," he murmurs, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your stomach. "Just in case." He kisses your shoulder softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "You feel so good," he sighs contentedly. "So perfect." Yunho suddenly pulls out of you, a look of realization crossing his face. He gently taps your hip.

"Wait, wait," he says, his voice urgent. "I need you to raise your legs up. Like you did last time." He helps you position yourself, lifting your legs and propping them up on a pillow. He watches intently as he sees his cum start to leak out of you.

"Good girl," he praises, his eyes darkening with desire again. "Keep them up like that. We need to make sure it stays inside." You laugh at his seriousness, finding it both endearing and ridiculous. "Yunho, I'm not going to be able to hold this position forever," you tease, your legs already starting to feel strained.

He grins sheepishly, but he's still determined. "Just a few more minutes," he insists, his hand resting on your thigh. "I want to make sure my seed has a good chance of taking." He leans down to kiss your forehead, his expression softening. "I know it's silly, but I just want this to work. I want to see you pregnant again so badly."You have a feeling you might be having more than 3 at this point.

[mysteriousxgirls]

Monica’s eyes went wide, a gasp escaping before she swatted Jayden’s chest with a laugh. “Oh my god, stop,” she said, biting back a grin. “You’re actually embarrassing me.” Her voice was half scold, half flirt, and all amused. She shook her head like she couldn’t quite believe him, then met his gaze again, this time softer, more deliberate. “Okay… maybe I lied,” she admitted, eyes flicking down for a second before returning to his with a spark. “Maybe you were the most attractive one in the bunch. Which does make you special.” Her voice dipped at the end, playful but genuine. “You’ve got this… thing about you. That kind of pull.” She smiled now, biting her lip like she regretted giving that much away, but not really. Before the tension could settle too deeply between them, Rhett’s voice rang out, loud and obnoxiously excited. “Karaoke? Finally! I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life.” Monica perked up instantly, grinning as she stood. “Wait, karaoke? Oh, I’m so in.” She didn’t hesitate, already heading toward the action.

Harmony let out a soft laugh, her heart warming at how quickly the room shifted into excitement. “Looks like everyone’s on board,” she said, then turned to Nate and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Let’s head in.” Inside, guests followed her lead, settling into the cozy space where a small stage setup waited, complete with a mic & a speaker. Once everyone was seated, Harmony stepped to the front and clapped her hands for attention, a grin tugging at her lips. “Alright, so this is something of a family tradition,” she began. “We used to do it around Christmas. My papi would throw these huge holiday parties for everyone at his company, and he would invite their families too. We would have food, games, and karaoke battles.” She laughed, eyes twinkling with nostalgia. “Whoever won the most rounds got a surprise prize.” With a dramatic flair, she pulled an envelope from her purse and held it up. “Today’s prize? A full day at a luxury spa resort! massages, facials, the works.” Gasps and cheers erupted instantly. Ivy practically squealed. “Rhett, if you win this for me… I swear, you’re getting lucky tonight.” She winked shamelessly. Sara leaned forward in her seat, laughing. “Wait, what?! I want that so badly. Game on.” Harmony chuckled, patting her stomach lightly. “Don’t count me out. With this backache I’ve been carrying around? I need it badly, so i wont go easy on you guys.” The room buzzed with playful energy, but then Harmony’s expression softened. She tucked the envelope away and stepped forward, her eyes finding Nate’s. “But before we kick things off…” Her voice wavered for the first time, emotion catching just behind her words. “I… I have something for Nate.” She reached for his hands, her fingers threading through his gently. Her thumb brushed across his knuckles as she took a breath. “When we were apart… I started writing a song,” she said softly. “I didn’t know if you would ever hear it. I didn’t even know if I would ever finish it. But I did. A few nights ago. And… I want you to hear it now.” She leaned in, pressing a quiet kiss to his cheek, then slowly stepped away and made her way to the piano. The room stilled.

Harmony sat, her fingertips resting lightly on the keys for a moment, gathering herself. Then, she began to play, a soft, delicate melody blooming from the silence. Her voice joined slowly, vulnerable and raw:

“Is it me… is my intuition wrong? Or does it feel like coming home? ‘Cause it’s almost like you speak my language… Like we’ve been right here before…”

Her voice wavered slightly, but she pushed through, glancing up at Nate just as her hands glided into the chorus.

“Sunsets never looked so bright… When you look into my eyes. You gotta say it’s true… And I gotta say it too… I do. I can see my whole life with you.”

For a second, no one breathed. Then slowly, Harmony’s gaze lifted to Nate again, and everything in her expression said what the words hadn’t: this is yours. I’m yours.

Jayden let out a low chuckle, completely unbothered by her words—if anything, he looked amused. “You wound me, Monica,” he said with an easy grin, leaning back slightly as if her jab had rolled right off his shoulders. “Here I was thinking you’d been circling me like a hawk all night because you were intrigued, not because I was the last guy standing.” He glanced over to where Sam stood, chatting with someone by the drinks table, and lifted a hand to wave him over. “Sam!” he called, smirking. “You’re being summoned. Apparently, Monica here thinks she settled by flirting with me. Think you may have been her first option.” Then, dropping his voice just enough for her to hear, he added with a smirk, “Though I’ll warn you—he’s a good-looking boy, yeah, but I doubt he kisses half as well.” He turned his attention back to her, eyes locked on hers without flinching. “And for the record,” he said, voice low and steady, “I don’t generally make a habit of kissing strangers. Just the really attractive ones.”

Nate chuckled, his thumb gently brushing her arm as she leaned into him. That little smile of hers made his chest loosen, like some quiet part of him could finally breathe again. “I think that sounds like the perfect idea,” he said softly, then stood and reached down, offering his hand with a warm grin. “I’m curious about that surprise now though.” As he helped Harmony to her feet, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, eyes flicking over her face like he was making sure she was really okay. That mischief in her tone—he lived for it. Just then, Rhett’s voice rang out from beside them, loud and full of that usual teasing energy.“Oh, hell yes, I was born ready for karaoke,” Rhett said, already rising from his seat with a mock stretch like he was preparing for a full performance. “I’ll start warming up for ‘I Want It That Way’ now then.”

[sillygoofyqueer]

Okay I've also got asks to answer but I've got work experience this week so my available schedule is fucked up and posting time is cut down a lot. So if you have sent me an ask recently (or decide to send me an ask during the week), it WILL be answered I promise, just mayhaps not right away. With that out of the way, MORE KPDH x MXTX AU!

I know I said I was going to focus on wangxian but I've been gripped with the need to give you a whistle stop tour of Shen Yuan (+ Shang Qinghua's) and Xie Lian's backstories! Starting with Shen Yuan; so, obviously, he's from the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, and he was raised there from a young age - some children are raised in the sect, others are found. However, he wasn't the one that caught the interest of the scouts of CQMS - that would be his twin brother, Shen Jiu. Yes yes, there's messy messy qijiu to be found in here somewhere, but we have NO TIME for it. Shen Jiu refused to go anywhere without his twin brother, who was dealing with a severe illness, and the scout was like "uuggghhh, there's no time to argue" because there was a deficit of gifted children hanging around on the streets. So, Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu went along to CQMS, and Shen Jiu began his training while Shen Yuan was put through rigorous treatments designed to make him better; these treatments required a level of cultivation, so he was also trained in cultivation (a more gentle version that wouldn't affect his delicate health).

Shen Jiu was only cultivating for his didi's sake, and he was only staying for his didi's sake, because didi was loving learning about the different kinds of demons, and he had made a friend too. However, Shen Yuan eventually found out that Shen Jiu didn't really care about cultivating, and felt bad for gege because he was doing all of this for him! So, he proposed an idea to Shen Jiu. Teach him what he knew, and then Shen Yuan could take his place sometimes! Like a twin swap, y'see? Shen Jiu was reluctant at first, but he saw how excited Shen Yuan was about his idea (outside of researching and basically becoming the resident expert on demons) and caved to his didi's whims. So, they started swapping sometimes - of course, they had to learn each other's mannerisms n such to be able to pull it off, and there were a few people they couldn't fool (ones that would never tell on them), but they managed to pull it off pretty well aside from that. Something something, they were eventually found out, but instead of being mad, their mentor (previous Qing Jing peak lord) was pleased because they had two cultivators/experts for the price of one!

Shang Qinghua was Shen Yuan's friend right from the start. He had been sent over by a less-than-influential family that was in the know about demon hunters, along with his gege - I can't think of a name right now, but just know it's OG Shang Qinghua (OG for short lmfao). While his gege clawed his way through cultivation until he was somewhat respected and powerful despite their lower status in the sect, Shang Qinghua was much more interested in the management side of things. Leave him alone, no harsh missions where he almost died for him, pretty please! While his mentor didn't really care if Shang Qinghua didn't care, his gege certainly fucking did, and personally taught him because he knew all of his didi's tricks to try and escape learning about such things. This wasn't faaaaiiirrrr! He took solace in hiding in Shen Yuan's medical room at first, then later his actual room when they decided that he was alright enough to be free from the infirmary. Shen Yuan wanted a friend, Shang Qinghua was willing to be a friend, and when Shen Yuan was caught out for switching with Shen Jiu, Shang Qinghua was immediately shoved into the group by Gege, who really wanted him to get out more.

Xie Lian's story took place a long, long time ago. While not the original demon hunter, he was trained by one of them, alongside his closest companions, Feng Xin and Mu Qing. He was specially picked out as though by fate itself, chosen by the gods to become the next blessed warrior fighting against the demons, and he took his companions along with him. Mei Nianqing didn't really talk about his original group, only telling tales of the Demon Hunter of Wuyong, who had tried to push himself to save humanity only to break under the pressure and become Bai Wuxiang, the ruler of demons. Honestly, he definitely should have; maybe if they had known what had happened to the original demon hunter group, Xie Lian wouldn't have been so easily drawn in by another mentor. Jun Wu appeared in his dreams, offering him tips and tricks for his cultivation, ones that he shared to his friends with excitement - all the man in his dreams said was that he shouldn't tell Mei Nianqing about such things. Xie Lian was naïve, easy to manipulate because he just saw the best in everyone, unaware of the horrors that resided within the world; Mei Nianqing had failed him in that aspect, had failed he and his friends.

Xie Lian and his friends flourished under the guiding hands of Mei Nianqing (and, secretly, Jun Wu), which was why Mei Nianqing was so willing to let them face off against Bai Wuxiang when he ripped through the Honmoon. There was so much fighting, so many human lives lost and, in Xie Lian's dreams, Jun Wu urged him to excel quicker, to focus on his cultivation so he could 'properly protect humanity', but he wouldn't turn his back on them when they needed him the most. Unlike the Demon Hunter of Wuyong, he took time to save every single human from demons, even a young boy that everyone hailed as cursed and bound to the demons by fate. He didn't care what they all believed, he did not see the boy's future, he only saw the frightened little kid who needed protection from demons that wished to feast upon his 'tainted' soul. They managed to beat back Bai Wuxiang and reform the Honmoon, but that was not when it ended for Xie Lian. Rumours started echoing through the crowds, rumours that he sympathised with demons, and did not kill them if he did not see them as a threat. It's not like they were wrong, but people didn't like to hear such things about their protectors.

SO much more happens in this time, but I just need to quickly explain that I think the demon hunters could probably ascend (in this AU) due to the worship from the ordinary humans and with cultivation levels. To summarise what happens because there's so much I want to say and it's OVERWHELMING - Xie Lian's group breaks down because of these beliefs and, while one cannot be descended once they Ascend, Xie Lian's followers stopped believing in him and left him to rot through the centuries. Xie Lian goes through shit, almost becomes a demon but pulls himself back from the brink basically out of spite of Bai Wuxiang, going off the grid to hide from his friends and any other ascended gods. There is only one god that he befriends, and that's because this god (Shi Qingxuan) doesn't know who he is (his well-known name at the time was Dianxia), so there's no issue of his existence getting back to anyone else. Jun Wu occasionally appears in his dreams to try and ask where he is, but Xie Lian doesn't want to get him in trouble, so he doesn't ever tell him. Centuries pass, and he finds himself in a new boyband after helping a few demon hunters deal with a few vicious demons.

[radioactivatedspider]

After the Storm

Main Masterlist Mark Meachum Masterlist

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Radio's Café☆ - my official discord server!

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Back to...Part 1

Pairings; Mark Meachum x daughter!reader

Genre; Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family

Warnings; Aftermath of domestic abuse, emotional distress, mention of bruises, legal and custody discussions, protective parent, implied threat of violence, trauma recovery

Summary: The morning after discovering his daughter’s bruise, Mark Meachum keeps his promise—no more going back. As he quietly sets legal plans into motion, he battles the urge for revenge while focusing on protecting and comforting his daughter. In the quiet aftermath, father and daughter begin to rebuild safety and trust—one step at a time.

request: This is so good!! Do you think you could do a part two with the aftermath? No pressure🩷 (from my comments lol)

529 words

Mark barely slept that night.

He sat in the living room chair, half in shadow, a glass of untouched whiskey on the table beside him. His daughter had finally fallen asleep curled on the couch, blanket tucked tight around her, tear tracks still drying on her cheeks. He’d stayed close, watching, guarding — like if he let his guard down for even a second, the bastard who did this would somehow walk through the door.

His fists still itched. His mind still raced.

He wanted to kill Rick. Wanted to make him feel what she felt. Every bruise, every moment of fear. But the words she’d said earlier haunted him now:

“Because you’d kill him. And then I wouldn’t have you either.”

That stopped him cold. It kept him in that chair.

She didn’t need a monster. She needed her dad.

So, the next morning, he made coffee. Quietly. Thoughtfully. He moved around the kitchen like he was trying not to break anything — not the mugs, not the silence, not the fragile grip he had on himself.

She padded into the kitchen eventually, sweatshirt sleeves pulled down over her hands, eyes puffy but awake.

“Hey, kiddo,” Mark said gently, nodding toward a seat. “I made pancakes.”

She blinked. “You don’t make pancakes.”

“I do now.”

A small, almost invisible smile tugged at her mouth. She sat. “Thanks.”

Mark sat across from her, sipping coffee, watching her carefully. After a beat, he spoke again.

“I called a friend of mine. She’s a lawyer — works family law, off the books sometimes. She’s gonna help me file for emergency custody.”

She looked up fast. “Wait, what?”

“You’re not going back to that house. I’m not letting your mother sweep this under the rug. I’ve got evidence now. The bruise. Your statement — if you’ll give it.”

She was quiet for a second. Then nodded. “I’ll do it.”

Mark’s jaw clenched, but this time, it wasn’t rage. It was pride. Sad, heavy pride. “Good. We’ll make it official. And I’ll keep it clean. No jail for me, alright?”

She reached for his hand across the table. “You’re already doing more than enough.”

He swallowed hard.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, nodding to her arm.

“A little.”

Mark exhaled, long and low, like he needed to let something out before it burned a hole in his chest.

“I should’ve known,” he said quietly. “I should have seen it sooner.”

“You did,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Just not the way you wanted to.”

He didn’t say anything for a minute. Just looked at her like she was the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

Finally, he stood and walked around the table. She leaned into him automatically when he wrapped his arms around her.

“You’re safe now,” he murmured into her hair. “You hear me? I’m gonna fix this.”

And maybe he couldn’t erase the past.

Maybe he couldn’t punish Rick the way he wanted to — not yet.

But as long as his daughter was under his roof, Mark Meachum would be her shield.

And Rick? Rick was already a dead man walking. He just didn’t know it yet.

Taglist: @globetrotter28 @adrienneleclerc @multiversefanfics @smoothdogsgirl @star-yawnznn @deansbbyx

[justiceforplutoo]

The Corroded Coffin boys having no clue about the Upside Down making Steve and Eddie's interactions appear 10x gayer...? My Roman Empire.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, of course."

"No, really," and Steve looks up through his eyelashes at Eddie. "Are you...okay?"

Eddie gives Steve the softest smile the boys have ever seen anywhere even near Eddie's face. Ever. It's not a performance, like it usually is, but it's a true, genuine smile, just for the two of them. Gareth looks away, flustered.

Jeff just stands there, slightly bewildered, and turns to Freak. "You think they're...?"

Freak nods absentmindedly. "Yeah, you know...yeah."

Steve calls Eddie randomly during their late night hangouts with a thought he had? The boys share raised eyebrows.

They know each other's favourite songs but Eddie can't even remember any of theirs? Very suspicious.

Eddie knows Steve's work hours and calls to make sure he got home safely? Strange things are afoot at the family video.

Things only escalate from there. Steve's making his way upstairs (to grab a bandaid for Eddie, who absolutely does NOT need a bandaid for a papercut) and Jeff stops him in the hallway.

"Listen, man, I just wanna know what's going on between you and Eddie."

Steve's face is the picture of innocence. "...what?"

Jeff sighs and scrubs his face. "I mean, I hate to, like, out you like this, but I just don't want Eddie getting hurt, you know? I mean, he's been through a lot--"

"I know," Steve interjects.

Jeff glares at him. "You realize it's, like, obvious to everyone around you both that something is definitely going on between you two? I'm just saying, there's a real possibility that someone could see that and accidentally make the right assumption. It's just dangerous, where we live, you kn--"

"Oh my God."

"Yeah, I know," Jeff nods solemnly, "It's really frustrating that you have to--"

"Jeff, oh my God. I didn't know."

"It's okay, we all make m--"

Steve looks shell shocked by this small nugget of information. Jeff had heard rumours from the kids of possible brain damage, and he'd never thought they might be true before, but he was starting to suspect it now.

"Are you okay? You look a little--"

Steve looks up at him. "Jeff, I'm queer. I like men. I like Eddie."

Jeff pauses. "...I know...?"

Steve mock-screams at him. "I didn't!"

Oh. Oh...? Oh.

"What am I supposed to do? Oh God, Jeff, he's right there, oh--"

Eddie peeks around the corner with a look of concern painting his concerning enough features. "Is everything alright? Are you okay? Is it--"

Steve sniffs roughly, looking at the floor with mild interest. "Eddie, I need to talk to you."

Eddie wastes no time in coming up to Steve's side. "What's u--mmh."

And then Steve's kissing him.

It's kind of like watching two trains crash into each other but one train is your best friend since middle school and the other is this guy he used to hate but now it's complicated, but it's not really complicated, they're just madly in love, but it's weird because Jeff still remembers that one time Eddie stepped on Steve's lunch by accident and Steve just yanked him so hard he fell off of the table.

Jeff has never really understood what those romance books meant when they said "two tongues fighting for dominance" but suddenly, he got it now.

"I think I'm Buddha," Jeff said, still staring at the train wreck that was Steve and Eddie's tongues fighting for dominance.

"What?" Eddie looked over at him, a trail of spit connecting his mouth to Steve's. Jeff wanted to bleach his eyeballs. Jeff wanted to spread his enlightenment.

"I said I'm going to go now. You guy stay safe." Jeff's voice did not sound like his own voice anymore. "Use protection and all that."

Jeff didn't think they heard him, but he didn't really wanna turn around and find out.

"Hey, man! ...are you...okay?" Gareth asked worriedly.

"Steve didn't know that he was gay. Until just now. When I told him."

The three of them just sat there for a moment. Something thumped upstairs, and then there was a lot of laughing echoing down the stairs.

"You wanna go to my place and watch Grease?" Freak suggested.

All three of them were out of the door before the end of that sentence.

[pelawennight]

🖤 SHADOWBOXING AND SARCASM

A Gotham Phantom One-Shot (Part 4)

by PelawenNight

🗒️ Summary:

Danny Fenton is trying to keep up with Cassandra Cain’s hand-to-hand combat training — no ghost powers allowed. What starts as a serious sparring session quickly devolves into playful banter, accidental ghostly mishaps, and a rare tender moment between them. Just when things start to settle, Cassandra’s brothers crash the “date” with a classic Bat-family “shovel talk.”

.........

The old Gotham University gym smelled like sweat, leather, and a faint trace of something old and dusty—like forgotten ghosts of previous athletes. Dust motes danced in the sparse shafts of sunlight filtering through grimy windows, illuminating the worn mats and scuffed punching bags. Danny Fenton bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, gloves half-laced, trying to look like he belonged in a hand-to-hand sparring session. He felt profoundly out of his element. His usual fights involved phasing through walls and firing ecto-blasts, not dodging actual, solid fists. He’d agreed to this because Cass had asked, and frankly, anything she asked, he’d probably do. But he was starting to question his life choices. This wasn't exactly the "normal college experience" he'd envisioned when he moved to Gotham. Then again, nothing in his life was ever truly normal.

Cassandra Cain stood opposite him, serene and unshaken. Her stance was flawless, her eyes calm but alert, ready to spring at any moment. She wore simple black athletic wear, a stark contrast to Danny's slightly too-big gym shorts and faded t-shirt. Every line of her body spoke of coiled power and effortless control. Danny, despite his nervousness and the impending physical humiliation, found himself admiring her. She was graceful, precise, and utterly captivating. He still couldn’t believe she was his girlfriend.

Danny swallowed, adjusting his ill-fitting boxing gloves. The air felt thick with unspoken potential. “Are you sure this isn’t a trap, Cass? This is exactly how horror movies start. Attractive girl lures dumb boy to an abandoned gym. Next thing you know, I’m the monster of the week, or worse, the first victim.” He tried for a lighthearted tone, a nervous tic. His heart was already doing a frantic jig against his ribs.

Cass smirked, a tiny, almost imperceptible curve of her lips that only Danny, after months of careful observation, could discern. She didn’t break eye contact. Instead, she gestured with one hand, slicing the air with effortless grace, an invitation. Come at me.

Danny sighed dramatically, trying to project exasperation rather than genuine trepidation. “Alright, alright, don’t mind if I do. Just try not to permanently rearrange my internal organs. I need those for, you know, living.” He charged forward, throwing a sloppy jab, more a hopeful lunge than an actual punch, that Cass easily sidestepped. He felt the faint whoosh of air as she moved, a phantom sensation that was almost as frustrating as the miss itself.

“Nice try,” she said quietly, her voice a soft murmur that was barely audible above Danny’s own heavy breathing.

He tried again. Punch. Dodge. Block. Danny’s form was… enthusiastic, but not exactly graceful. He moved with the raw, untamed energy of a brawler, relying on instinct and speed rather than technique. He was fast, surprisingly fast for a human, but Cass was faster. Much faster. She was a whisper of motion, always a step ahead, her movements economical and precise. He swung, she ducked. He feinted, she countered. He stumbled backward, rubbing his ribs where her foot had lightly, yet firmly, connected. It wasn't a hard kick, but it was perfectly placed, designed to remind him of his own clumsiness.

“Wow. Okay, that’s my spleen. I think it just sent a strongly worded letter to my brain,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “Could you maybe say hi to it next time? Give it a heads-up?”

Cass didn’t laugh out loud, but the ghost of a smile, a genuine flicker of amusement, curved her lips. She moved around him, her dark eyes assessing, always assessing. He could feel her gaze, dissecting his every move, anticipating his next clumsy lunge.

“Do you come with subtitles?” Danny continued, trying to distract himself from the dull ache in his side and the crushing reality of his inadequacy. “Because I swear you moved and I didn’t see it. It’s like you blink-teleported or something. Are you secretly a speedster? Because that would explain a lot. And frankly, make me feel a little better about getting my butt kicked.”

Cass’s eyes flickered with amusement, but there was something else—an almost imperceptible softness in her gaze, a rare warmth that was reserved just for him. She liked his banter, his clumsy attempts, his sheer, unyielding spirit. She saw past the flailing limbs to the determination in his eyes.

Danny tried to hide his growing frustration behind a grin. He was a ghost king , for crying out loud. He could fly, turn invisible, phase through walls, shoot ecto-blasts. He fought interdimensional threats on a daily basis. But in a straight-up, human fistfight, he was getting thoroughly schooled by his ballerina girlfriend. “I’m clearly not built for this ‘non-ghost’ combat thing,” he mumbled, trying to sound self-deprecating rather than genuinely annoyed. “Maybe I should just stick to floating through walls and possessing inanimate objects. Much less painful.”

Cass paused for a beat, watching him. Her voice dropped to a softer tone, a rare moment of direct encouragement. “You’re better than you think.” She stepped closer, her hand moving to his shoulder, then gently guiding his elbow. “Elbow in. Hip turn. Follow through.” She demonstrated a simple jab, her movement fluid and powerful, yet slow enough for him to follow. “Power from ground. Not just arm.”

Danny nodded, trying to absorb the instruction, focusing intently on her movements. “Elbow in, hip turn, power from the… ground. Got it. Like… channeling my inner tectonic plate? Or maybe a really angry badger?” He tried the jab, focusing on her guidance. His elbow tucked in, his hip rotated, and he felt a surprising surge of power, though his follow-through was still a bit wobbly. He nearly overbalanced, but caught himself. “Whoa! Okay, that actually felt like something! Like I might actually hit something other than air next time!”

Cass gave a small, approving nod, a tiny flicker of pride in her eyes. “Good. Again.”

He tried again, and again, each time feeling a little more control, a little more connection between his feet and his fist. He was still clumsy, but there was a nascent strength emerging, a flicker of potential that even he could feel. He was actually learning .

Danny squared up again, a spark of determination igniting in his chest. This time he was going to land a hit. He dodged left, then right—then panicked as his body suddenly phased, slipping partially through Cass’s outstretched hand as she moved to block. His arm went transparent for a split second, passing through her, a cold, tingling sensation.

His eyes went wide, a cold dread washing over him. Oh no. Oh no no no. Not now. Not here. Not with Cass. He quickly pulled his arm back, trying to make it look like a clumsy stumble, shaking his hand as if he’d merely misjudged the distance. He forced a laugh that sounded a little too high-pitched. “Whoa! Clumsy me! Slippery hands, I guess! My grip just… gave out!” He forced another laugh, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. “Too much ramen, maybe? Or maybe I need to lay off the ecto-marshmallows. Uh, I mean, regular marshmallows. Yeah. Regular.” He winced internally. Smooth, Fenton. Real smooth.

Cass blinked slowly, her expression unreadable. Her eyes, however, lingered on his hand for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. She noticed.��Danny could feel it, even if she didn’t react. The faintest glint in her eyes said she’d definitely noticed the phase. And she wasn't going to let him off the hook for it. Not entirely.

Before he could panic further, she swiftly swept his leg and, in one fluid motion, had him on his back on the mat. Before he could even register the fall, she was straddling his hips, her knees lightly pinning his legs, her hands braced on either side of his head. Her body, warm and lithe, was pressed against his, the soft fabric of her athletic wear a thin barrier. Her dark eyes, usually so calm, held a spark of triumph, and a hint of something else entirely. The air between them crackled with a sudden, unexpected tension that had nothing to do with sparring.

Danny, gasping for breath, his mind reeling from the sudden intimacy and the surprise of the pin, groaned, “Okay, that was cheating. You blink-teleported. I swear you did. That’s the only explanation. You were there, then you were here . It’s a classic move, I’ve seen it in… uh… cartoons.” He tried to sound indignant, but mostly sounded winded and acutely aware of her weight on him.

Cass tilted her head, a familiar, knowing smirk playing on her lips. No words. But the faintest glint in her eyes said she’d definitely noticed the phase. And she wasn't going to let him off the hook for it. The unspoken challenge, and the undeniable romantic tension, hung in the air.

She leaned in slightly, her voice a low murmur, barely audible. "Again. Get up."

Danny groaned, the sound muffled by the mat. "Again? Cass, I think my soul just tried to leave my body. I'm pretty sure that counts as a win for you." He looked up at her, pleading. "Can't we just call it a draw? Or maybe I win for surviving?"

C ass's smirk widened. She didn't move. Her eyes held his, a silent, unwavering demand.

With a dramatic sigh that seemed to deflate his very being, Danny pushed against the mat. "Fine, fine! Tyrant. You're a tyrant, you know that? A beautiful, terrifying tyrant." He slowly, painfully, pushed himself up, still feeling the phantom pressure of her knees on his hips. He wobbled slightly as he regained his footing. "One more round. Then I'm officially declaring myself a pacifist."

Cass gave a small, satisfied nod. She dismounted him with effortless grace, stepping back into her ready stance. This final round was shorter, more brutal, a test of his endurance. Danny pushed himself, fueled by a mix of stubbornness and the desire to impress her, but his movements were sluggish, his defenses weak. Cass moved like a shadow, a blur of precision, landing a series of quick, light taps that left him breathless and thoroughly defeated.

Finally, she stopped, her chest barely heaving. Danny, on the other hand, was bent double, hands on his knees, gasping for air, sweat dripping onto the mat.

"Done," Cass stated, her voice calm, a hint of finality in it.

Danny straightened up slowly, rubbing his aching side. "Thank. Goodness. For. That." He managed to wheeze out.

Later, they sat on the bench, sweat-soaked and bruised. Danny, sweaty and flopped on the padded floor, groaned dramatically. “Okay. We get it. You’re perfect. You win. Again. My dignity has officially left the building.”

Cass, sitting cross-legged beside him with not a single strand of hair out of place, calmly handed him a water bottle. “You almost got me.”

Danny raised a brow, a skeptical look on his face. “Cass. You literally kicked the staff out of my hand, disarmed me, and then choked me with my own hoodie. I think ‘almost’ is a very generous interpretation of that sequence of events.”

“…Almost.”

He chuckled, letting his head thump back against the mat. “I think I sprained my dignity. And possibly a few other things. Maybe my will to live.” He took a long swig of water, then added with a dry chuckle, “Guess I should stop expecting to be good at everything the moment I try. My parents always said I was a natural at everything. Clearly, they were lying.”

“You are good enough for me,” Cass repeated, her voice softer this time, a quiet declaration that made Danny’s heart do a little flip-flop. She carefully dabbed at a scrape on Danny’s cheek with a cloth she’d pulled from her bag. Her touch was feather-light, almost imperceptible, but incredibly precise. A blush raised across Danny’s face at her casual words, a warmth that had nothing to do with exertion.

“How are you so good at this?” Danny asked quietly, genuinely curious. He looked at her, her calm demeanor, her effortless movements. “It’s like… you’re a professional. Like you do this for a living or something. Are you secretly a ninja? Because I’m starting to suspect you’re secretly a ninja.”

She shrugged, eyes distant for a moment. “Practice. Need it.”

Danny nodded. He knew she was a world-class ballet dancer, and that required immense discipline and physical prowess. But this felt different. More… dangerous. More intense. He let the thought go. He had his own secrets, after all, big glowing green ones. He couldn't exactly push for hers.

Before Cass could respond, the door creaked open, slowly, ominously.

Danny glanced over and froze. “Um. Cass. Why are there three dudes who look like they could be in a leather-jacketed boy band standing in the doorway? And why do they look like they’re about to drop a diss track on my life choices?”

Cass barely blinked, her gaze unwavering. “Brothers.”

“Oh cool,” Danny said, then did a double take, his eyes widening. “Wait, all three?! You have three brothers?!” He knew about Jason, of course, but three? He tried to remember if Cass had ever mentioned more. His mind was still a little fuzzy from the sparring.

Dick Grayson stepped forward first, the picture of charm in civilian wear. He had a sunny smile that absolutely didn’t reach his eyes, which were sharp and analytical, taking in every detail of Danny’s bruised, sweaty state. He crouched beside Danny, his gaze assessing.

“Hey there, Danny,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too friendly. “We heard you’ve been spending a lot of time with our baby sister. And apparently, she’s been trying to kill you.” He glanced at Cass, a playful accusation in his tone.

Danny sat up a little straighter, suddenly acutely aware of his sweat-soaked clothes, the faint bruise on his cheek, and the fact that he was currently sitting on a gym mat looking like he’d been run over by a truck. “Uh… yeah. She keeps trying to kill me. It’s going great. Five stars. Would recommend. Very… invigorating. Builds character, you know?”

Jason Todd leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression flat, but a dangerous glint in his dark eyes. He was observing Danny with an intensity that made the hairs on Danny’s neck prickle. “That a complaint, or a kink, Fenton?”

Danny blinked. “Too soon, man. Way too soon. We just met. And for the record, neither. It’s called ‘character building through extreme physical discomfort.’ Look it up.” He shot a glance at Cass, who remained impassive, though a faint twitch at the corner of her mouth suggested amusement.

Tim Drake , the only one holding a tablet, didn’t even look up from whatever he was typing, his fingers flying across the screen. He spoke with the detached air of a clinical researcher. “Statistically, anyone who dates Cass either disappears, changes their name, or transfers schools. Just letting you know. The data is fairly conclusive.”

Danny blinked again, a genuine chill running down his spine. “Wait, what? Is that a threat? Because I’m pretty sure that’s a threat. And also, rude. I’m right here. And I’m not changing my name. Fenton is a brand. A chaotic, slightly dangerous brand, but a brand nonetheless.” He looked from Tim’s impassive face to Dick’s too-wide smile. “And ‘disappears’? What does that even mean? Like, witness protection? Or… disappears disappears?”

Jason pushed off the wall, stepping closer, towering a bit over Danny. His voice dropped, a low, gravelly rumble that was meant to intimidate. His eyes, dark and piercing, fixed on Danny’s. “We’re just here to make sure you know the rules. You break her heart, ghost powers or not, we will find you.” The last part was delivered with a slow, deliberate emphasis, a predatory glint in his eyes, a clear warning.

Danny’s brow furrowed, but a mischievous glint entered his own blue eyes. He met Jason’s gaze, a faint, respectful smirk playing on his lips. He understood the ritual. He’d seen enough movies. This was the “shovel talk.” And honestly, it was kind of hilarious, in a terrifying sort of way. “Ghost—what now? Is that like a new band? Because I’m pretty sure I’m more of a rock-and-roll kind of guy, not… whatever ‘ghost powers’ implies.” He paused, then added, with a perfectly straight face, a hint of his inner troll shining through, “But hey, I appreciate the concern. It’s sweet, really. Very… protective big brother energy. I get it. My sister Jazz is the same way, only with more psychology terms and less leather. Though she does have a proton pack, so, you know, equal opportunity intimidation.”

Jason’s dangerous grin faltered, replaced by a look of bewildered annoyance. He ran a hand through his hair. “Figure of speech, kid. Just… a figure of speech. Don’t overthink it.”

Danny nodded sagely. “Right. Well, if I do break her heart – and let’s be clear, I have no intention of doing that, she’s amazing, and also terrifyingly good at hand-to-hand combat, so I’m pretty sure she’d break me – you’ll have to get in line behind my parents, three actual ghosts, a cafeteria ghost I accidentally banished, and my AP Calc teacher. It’s a pretty long queue, actually. So, you know, maybe bring a book. Or snacks.” He looked deadpan at Jason. “Good luck with that queue, buddy. It’s a real commitment.”

Tim, finally looking up from his tablet, blinked. “…He’s weird. I kinda like him. He knows how to deflect. And his self-preservation instincts are… surprisingly robust for someone so sarcastic.”

Danny sighed again, more dramatically this time, pushing himself off the mat. “I’m in college now, man. Can I not be bullied by my girlfriend’s entire family? I just wanted to learn how to throw a punch without dislocating a shoulder. Is that too much to ask?”

Dick grinned, a flash of genuine amusement in his eyes. “No. Welcome to the family, Danny.”

Cass appeared beside Danny, silent as death. The boys immediately stepped back like they'd been caught lighting fireworks inside the Batcave, their intimidating postures dissolving into awkward shuffling.

Cass looked at Danny, then at her brothers. “Done?”

Jason nodded solemnly, still looking slightly flustered by Danny’s last comment. “We said the thing.”

Tim added, “He survived it.”

Dick shrugged. “And he didn’t cry.”

Cass turned to Danny, a faint, soft smile on her lips. “Want ice cream?”

Danny stood, ignoring the lingering aches, and pointed at her brothers without looking away from her. “Yes. Let’s get ice cream. Away from these psychos. And maybe somewhere close? My entire body hurts.”

Cass nodded. “Okay.”

As she walked past her brothers, they all subtly moved aside. Danny followed, shooting a nervous glance at Jason. Jason just winked, a mixture of exasperation and grudging respect in his eyes.

Danny muttered under his breath, “Gotham’s so freaking weird.”

📝 Author’s Note:

I don’t own these characters—just borrowing them to play! This crossover is a love letter to both the Danny Phantom and Batman fandoms. Thanks for reading and letting me throw Danny into chaos with the Batfam 💥 If you enjoyed it, drop a comment or send an ask!