#also I tried giving him arm and chest hair but it looked wrong. He’d probably wax anyway

[fantasykiri5]

Fabian Seacaster, Maximum Legend that you are

[brunchable]

This is your boyfriend, Mom? PT. 2

《 Lucas takes Bucky to bring-your-dad-to-school. 》

Pairings: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Single Mom reader. Themes: Comedy. Fluff with Lucas <3 Also Bucky getting cockblocked at the end. Summary: Lucas has an upcoming bring your dad to school day, and he chose to being Bucky with him. A/N: Bucky x Lucas is starting to grow on me help🥲 Parts : 1 and 1.5

Lucas had been suspiciously quiet during dinner. Normally, you’d be hearing about how his day went, including stories about how he managed to outwit his teacher with some clever quip. But tonight, he was pushing his food around his plate like it had personally offended him.

You and Bucky exchange a glance. Something’s up.

“What’s wrong, Lucky?” you ask gently, leaning forward. “You’ve barely touched your mashed potatoes, and you love those.”

Lucas sighs dramatically, not even looking up. “It’s bring-your-dad-to-school day tomorrow.”

Bucky pauses mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air. “And?”

“And… nothing,” Lucas mutters, eyes fixed on his plate.

You tilt your head, trying to decipher the sudden gloom. “Well, that sounds fun. Maybe you should bring your dad. I’m sure he’d—”

Lucas immediately cuts you off with a loud groan, throwing his head back in frustration. “Ughhh, Mom! No! Dad's so boring. He works in finance. All he does is talk about spreadsheets and stocks. None of the kids will care!”

You can’t help but laugh softly. “He’s not that bad, Lucas. He could probably teach your classmates a lot about—”

“Boring stuff,” Lucas finishes for you, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout. “Last time he tried to explain stocks to me, I fell asleep with my eyes open.”

Bucky nearly chokes on his water, trying to stifle a laugh. “You fell asleep with your eyes open?”

Lucas nods seriously, “Mid-sentence, too. I think I went into some kind of boredom coma.”

You smirk, brushing a hand through Lucas’s hair. “Come on, he’s your dad. He’d probably love to come.”

Lucas gives you an exasperated look, then glances over at Bucky, who’s watching the exchange with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Well,” Lucas says, avoiding eye contact, “I was kinda thinking… maybe Bucky could come instead.”

Bucky looks surprised, his eyebrows shooting up. “Me?”

Lucas shrugs, his eyes fixed on the table. “Yeah, I mean, you’ve got a metal arm and you work with the Avengers. You’re way cooler than someone who talks about dividends all day.”

You stifle a chuckle, giving Lucas a gentle nudge. “You’re sure? I mean, it’s bring-your-dad-to-school day, not bring-your-mom’s-boyfriend-to-school day.”

Lucas huffs and folds his arms over his chest. “Well, it should be. Besides, Bucky’s basically, like, half-superhero, half-robot, and a little bit grumpy old man.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “A little grumpy?”

“Only sometimes,” Lucas adds quickly. “But the metal arm makes up for it.”

You shoot Bucky a look, stifling a laugh, while Bucky grins down at Lucas. “So, you want me to come, huh? Even though I’m just ‘kinda’ cool?”

Lucas rolls his eyes but can’t hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, well, you’re cooler than spreadsheets.”

Bucky snorts and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “High praise.”

× × × × 

The Next Day: Bring Your Dad to School Day

Lucas had been jittery all morning, and you weren’t sure whether it was nerves or excitement. He kept fixing his hair and adjusting his backpack, sneaking glances at Bucky as if checking to see if he’d changed his mind about coming.

When you finally arrive at the school, Lucas shifts uncomfortably, standing close to you and Bucky with a mixture of anxiety and hope in his eyes. “You’ll come inside, right?”

Bucky crouches slightly to meet Lucas at eye level, offering him a reassuring smile. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it, buddy. Besides, I’ve gotta make sure I look cool enough for your friends, right?”

Lucas lets out a breath and nods, though he tries to play it off cool. “Just… don’t embarrass me, okay?”

Bucky raises his hands in surrender. “No embarrassment. Got it.”

As you enter the classroom, the air is buzzing with excitement. Kids are introducing their dads, proudly sharing what they do for work—doctors, engineers, even a dad who runs a bakery, much to everyone’s delight.

When it’s Lucas’s turn, the room grows quiet, and he shuffles nervously to the front of the class. He glances back at Bucky, his hands fidgeting at his sides, and when he starts speaking, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Um… this is Bucky. He’s not my dad, but he’s my mom’s boyfriend.” He pauses, his eyes scanning the room nervously before flicking back to Bucky, who gives him an encouraging nod.

At first, Lucas stammers, his voice soft and unsure. “He… um… he’s an Avenger.”

The entire class gasps, but Lucas doesn't look up. He shuffles a bit, glancing at the floor. “And, uh… he’s kinda cool.”

Bucky smiles warmly, but Lucas’s words grow more confident as he goes on, his voice gaining strength as he talks about Bucky.

“He helps me with my homework, even though he pretends like he doesn’t understand math… but he does. And… uh, he taught me how to ride a bike.”

Bucky’s eyebrows lift in surprise, and you feel a lump forming in your throat as Lucas continues, his confidence building with every word.

“And… one time, when I was scared to sleep because of a thunderstorm, he sat with me until I fell asleep. He didn’t even get mad when I drooled on him.” A few kids giggle, and Lucas grins, glancing at Bucky. “He says his metal arm doesn’t feel anything, but I think he just says that so I don’t worry when I hold onto it too tight.”

Bucky’s expression softens, and your eyes start to well up with tears, your heart swelling as you hear the affection in Lucas’s voice.

“He helps me with stuff that’s hard for me, like when I don’t get something right away, and he never makes me feel bad about it. And… he told me that even superheroes need help sometimes, so it’s okay if I ask for help too.”

The classroom is silent, except for the occasional sniffle from you, tears pooling in your eyes as Lucas keeps talking, his confidence shining through.

“So yeah,” Lucas finishes, smiling now, “Bucky’s not my real dad, but he’s kinda like a superhero at home too. He doesn’t fly or have a shield, but… he’s the best.”

Bucky looks completely stunned, blinking back emotion as he stares at Lucas. The classroom erupts in applause, the kids clearly in awe of everything they just heard. You wipe a tear from your cheek, trying not to let anyone see how much Lucas’s words touched you.

As Lucas walks back to his seat, Bucky watches him with a mix of pride and disbelief. When Lucas sits down, the teacher looks at Bucky expectantly.

“Well, Mr. Barnes, it seems Lucas has given you quite the introduction,” she says warmly. “Would you like to say a few words about Lucas?”

Bucky clears his throat, standing a little taller as he glances over at Lucas, who’s avoiding eye contact, clearly a bit shy after all that. “Uh, sure,” Bucky says, his voice soft but steady.

He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then smiles gently as he looks at Lucas.

“Lucas… he’s, uh, he’s kind of a big deal, y’know?” Bucky starts, his voice tender. “He’s got this heart that’s… I don’t even know how to describe it. Bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. And he cares about people in ways that… well, I guess you don’t really expect from a kid his age.”

Bucky shifts, his eyes softening as he continues. “He’s tough. And not just the way he talks tough—which he definitely does, let me tell you. But he’s got this kind of strength that’s rare. The kind that makes him want to help other people, even when he’s having a rough day.”

He pauses, glancing at Lucas, who is trying to hide a small smile, his cheeks pink.

“I never expected to be the guy teaching a kid how to ride a bike or helping with homework. But with Lucas… I dunno, it’s different. It’s like he teaches me more than I could ever teach him. He’s patient with me when I mess up—‘cause, believe me, I mess up a lot.”

The class is quiet, listening intently as Bucky’s voice softens even more. “He makes me want to be better. And he never has to say that; it’s just the way he is. I didn’t think I’d be good at this kind of thing, being there for someone like him. But Lucas? He makes it easy. And… well, I’m just lucky I get to be part of his life.”

Bucky glances back at you for a moment, a flicker of emotion in his eyes before he looks at Lucas, smiling warmly. “I’m proud of him. More than I can put into words.”

The room is silent for a moment, the emotion in Bucky’s words hanging in the air, and you have to quickly wipe away a tear before anyone notices.

The teacher smiles, clearly touched. “That was beautiful, Mr. Barnes. Thank you for sharing.” She looks at the class. “Does anyone have any questions for Bucky?”

Dozens of hands shoot up, and Bucky laughs softly, still a little overwhelmed by the moment.

“Alright,” Bucky says, grinning. “Who’s first?”

A kid at the front waves his hand excitedly. “Is your metal arm, like, super strong? Can you crush stuff with it?”

Bucky chuckles and flexes his metal arm playfully. “It’s pretty strong. I’ve crushed a few things with it, but I try not to do that too often.”

Another kid raises their hand. “Do you know Captain America?”

Bucky grins. “Yeah, I know him. He’s my best friend.”

Lucas perks up at that, unable to resist adding, “He beat Captain America once. But that’s only because Steve tripped over his own shield.”

The class erupts into giggles, and Bucky shoots Lucas a mock glare. “Hey, I told you to keep that between us.”

The questions continue, with kids asking everything from how Bucky became an Avenger to whether he can fly. Every time Bucky answers, Lucas watches him with this quiet admiration, a look you hadn’t seen before.

Eventually, the teacher wraps up the session, thanking Bucky for his time. As you head out of the classroom, Lucas lingers by Bucky’s side, still a little shy but clearly proud of the whole experience.

“You didn’t embarrass me,” Lucas says softly, glancing up at Bucky as you walk outside.

Bucky smiles, ruffling Lucas’s hair gently. “And you made me look pretty good in front of your friends, kid. Thanks.”

Lucas shrugs, but you can see the small grin on his face. “Yeah, well… it wasn’t that hard.”

× × × ×

The house was quiet, the kind of calm that comes after a long, eventful day. You’d just finished tucking Lucas into bed, though his excitement from earlier had kept him talking longer than usual. His eyes had sparkled as he recounted every detail of the day, especially how cool his friends thought Bucky was.

Now, you found yourself standing at the doorway of Lucas’s room, watching him sleep peacefully, his small face nestled into his pillow, breathing steady.

Bucky’s footsteps were soft as he approached from behind, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his chin gently on your shoulder. 

“He’s out like a light,” Bucky murmured, his voice low.

You nod, leaning back into him with a content sigh. “He had a big day.”

Bucky’s hold on you tightened slightly, and after a beat of silence, he asked, “Was it… okay? I mean, I didn’t mess anything up, did I?”

You turn in his arms, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Mess it up? Bucky, you were amazing. You saw how happy he was.” You pause, your voice growing more tender. “And how proud he was to bring you.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered, his usually stoic expression faltering for a moment as he glanced back at Lucas’s sleeping form. “I wasn’t sure… you know, about this whole ‘being a dad figure’ thing. I didn’t want to… I don’t know, overstep.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing lightly against the roughness of his stubble. “You didn’t overstep, Bucky. You’ve been exactly what he needs.”

Bucky looked down at you, his blue eyes reflecting a vulnerability he rarely let surface. “I didn’t think I’d be good at this,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think I could be.”

You shook your head gently. “You are, though. Lucas looks up to you. He trusts you.” You could feel your throat tighten, remembering the words Lucas had spoken earlier in the classroom, how he’d talked about Bucky with such affection and pride. “He loves you, Bucky.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched slightly, and for a moment, he looked away, as if the weight of your words was too much to take in. But then, after a long breath, he whispered, “Yeah. I think I love him too.”

There was a softness in his voice, a kind of admission that felt raw and real. You blinked away the tears that welled up again, pulling him into a tight embrace. 

“He’s lucky to have you,” you murmured into his chest.

Bucky wrapped both arms around you, holding you close as if grounding himself in the warmth of the moment. 

“I’m the lucky one,” he whispered into your hair.

After a few quiet moments, you pull away slightly, looking up at him with a teasing smile. “You know, you didn’t embarrass him today, but you both did make me cry in the back of the classroom.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his hand gently brushing a stray hair from your face. 

“Yeah, I noticed that.” His smile turned warm, and he kissed your forehead softly. “Didn’t mean to make you cry, but I guess we’re all getting soft, huh?”

You laugh quietly, wiping the last of your tears. “Maybe just a little.”

Just then, there’s a small rustle from the bed, and Lucas’s sleepy voice drifts over to you both. 

“Mom… Bucky?”

You both turn, finding Lucas sitting up slightly, rubbing his eyes with one small fist. 

“Why are you guys whispering?” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

Bucky grins, stepping over to the bed and sitting on the edge. “Just talking about how cool your day was, buddy.”

Lucas yawns, his eyes half-closed as he leans back into his pillow. 

“You were cool today too,” he mutters sleepily, his words slurring a little. “Even if your hair still looks like it’s trying to run away.”

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. “Thanks, kid.”

Lucas is quiet for a second before he adds, even softer now, “I’m glad you’re here, Bucky.”

Bucky’s expression softens. He reaches out, ruffling Lucas’s hair gently. “Me too, kid. Get some sleep.”

Lucas smiles faintly, his eyes already closing again as he settles back into sleep.

Bucky stands up, and the two of you tiptoe out of the room, closing the door gently behind you. Once in the hallway, Bucky exhales softly, as if letting go of something he hadn’t even realised he was holding on to.

You slip your hand into his, giving it a squeeze. “You’re doing great,” you whisper.

Bucky looks down at your intertwined hands and nods, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. 

“Yeah,” he whispers back, pulling you closer. “I think we all are.”

× × × × 

Lucas was sound asleep in his room, and you and Bucky finally had the house to yourselves. The TV flickered softly in the background, but you couldn’t care less about what was on. Bucky had already pulled you into his lap, his hands roaming under your shirt, his lips pressing hot kisses against your neck.

You let out a breathy laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “I’ve missed this.”

Bucky smirked, his voice low and dripping with desire.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about this,” he growled, his hands gripping your waist. “I’m gonna take you upstairs, throw you on that bed, spread you out so wide—"

“Why would you do that to her?”

Both of you froze, and your heads whipped around in sync to see Lucas standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and holding his stuffed dinosaur.

Bucky blinked, his entire body going rigid as his face flushed a deep shade of red. "L-Lucas?" he choked out.

You quickly scrambled off Bucky’s lap, yanking your shirt back down while trying to hide your laughter.

“Lucky, what are you doing up? I thought you were asleep.”

Bucky's entire face flushed beet red, and he looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "I didn't mean-what I said was-uh..." His brain was clearly not firing on all cylinders. 

You bit your lip, trying not to burst into laughter as Bucky squirmed, knowing full well he had no idea how to recover. 

"Why would you throw her? Then spread her out." Lucas asked again, his little face scrunched up in confusion. "She's not a ball or a sandwich.”

You stifled a giggle, watching Bucky flounder. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to string together some explanation. 

"It's, uh... it's just an expression, buddy. You know, like when people say 'hit the hay' but they're not actually hitting anything?" 

Lucas blinked, unconvinced. "But you said you were gonna throw her and make her spread open. What does that mean?" 

Bucky's eyes widened in horror, and you couldn't hold it back anymore-you let out a loud snort, which quickly turned into full-blown laughter. Bucky glared at you like this is your fault, but you were too busy wiping tears from your eyes to care.

Bucky’s face was buried in his hands now. He muttered something unintelligible into his palms, and you could tell he was dying inside.

“It’s… just an expression,” he groaned, finally looking up, but clearly at a loss.

Lucas blinked, still not understanding. “I don’t get it. Do adults spread each other out when they’re tired?”

You were doubled over in laughter now, barely able to catch your breath. “Oh my God, this is the best thing that’s ever happened.”

Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he was considering moving to another planet. He let out the world’s longest sigh before saying, “No, Lucas, adults don’t… spread each other out when they’re tired.”

Lucas squinted, still confused. “Then why would you say that?”

"I'LL EXPLAIN TOMORROW," Bucky blurted out, clearly desperate to end the conversation.

“Okay. But it sounds weird. Like, why wouldn’t you just say you’re gonna tuck her in? That’s nicer than throwing her and spreading her out.” Lucas nodded, though it was clear he still didn’t get it.

Bucky muttered something under his breath, staring at the ceiling like he was silently asking the universe for strength. 

“You’re right, Lucas. Tucking her in is a much better way to say it.”

Lucas gave him a satisfied nod, as if he’d just solved the world’s biggest mystery. “Yeah. So next time, just say you’re gonna tuck her in.”

Bucky shot you a look that was half I hate you and half I’m going to die. “Sure thing, champ. Next time, I’ll… tuck her in.”

“Good,” Lucas said, completely oblivious to the awkwardness. “Can I sleep in your room tonight? I don’t wanna go back to mine.”

Bucky’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want, buddy.”

Lucas turned to head back toward the hallway but stopped just before he left. “And Bucky?”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, dreading whatever was coming next. “Yeah, Lucas?”

���Next time you should say ‘I’m gonna tuck you in real tight.’ That sounds better than spreading her out.”

Bucky didn't even try to respond, but then, after a brief pause, a mischievous grin spread across his face. 

“Alright, Mr. Tuck Expert,” he said, standing up quickly. “You’re gonna get tucked in first!”

Before Lucas could react, Bucky scooped him up like a sack of potatoes, tossing him over his shoulder. Lucas squealed in surprise, kicking his legs in the air as Bucky made his way to the stairs.

“Bucky! What are you doing?!”

Bucky laughed, giving Lucas a playful bounce. “I’m tucking you in, but I’m gonna do it real tight just like you said!”

Lucas giggled uncontrollably as Bucky carried him toward the stairs. “Not like that! That’s too tight!”

Bucky threw you a playful grin over his shoulder. “See you upstairs, doll,” he said smoothly. “Looks like we’re gonna have company in the middle tonight.”

Lucas kept giggling the whole way as Bucky disappeared up the stairs, bouncing him lightly like a sack of potatoes. You shook your head, still laughing, knowing full well that once Lucas was settled in the middle of your bed, Bucky would come back down for some unfinished business.

[forever-rogue]

Hi, I'm too anxious to tell you this off-anon, but the first contact I had with Joel x reader fics was through yours and I just wanted to tell you they're amazing, I can't get enough! So many feelings!!

So I also wanted to ask, if by any chance you're still accepting requests, a Joel x reader fic where reader is incredibly insecure about herself and often questions her worth and perhaps even starts spiralling a bit, and Joel just ends up giving her a "shut up" kiss at some point 🥰🥰 all the fluff and angst, please!

Thank you for boosting me down this rabbit hole, I'm enjoying the ride :D

AN | We always hear about Joel thinking he’s not good enough for Reader, but what if it was the other way around? 🥺 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.6k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hated watching how women threw themselves all over Joel. All over your boyfriend. It wasn’t like they didn’t know you were together, they just flat out chose to ignore it. Despite his reassurances that it didn’t mean anything and he paid them no attention, it still managed to get under your skin and had you seeing red. Part of you wished he’d just tell them to leave him alone but, honestly, he probably didn’t even know what was going on. Or if he did, he was good at faking it.

“It’d probably be easier to just go over and tell them off,” Ellie smirked as she appeared at your side, silent and stealthy as ever. Damn her. You waved off her concern and turned back to the beer you were drinking, “if looks could kill, they’d all be dead like ten times over.”

“I’m not…no,” you huffed, face turning warm when you realized you’d been caught, “I just happened to be glaring in that direction.”

“Right,” she didn’t believe you for a second, she knew you better than that. She grabbed your beer and took a sip since you were so distracted but immediately coughed at the bitter taste, “disgusting! How can you even drink this?!”

“That’s what you get for underage drinking,” you teased and she rolled her eyes dramatically, “it’s an acquired taste, Ellie Bean.”

“Whatever you say,” she clearly didn’t believe you as she got onto the stool beside you.

“Listen,” you turned to her and tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible, “I’m, ugh, not feeling great so I’m going to head home. Will you let Joel know if he asks?”

“If?” like he couldn’t have a small heart attack when he saw that you were missing.

“When he asks,” you ruffled her hair affectionately, “I’ll see you guys at home, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, although there was a deep frown on her face. She knew you well enough to know that something was up, “you’re alright?”

“I’m alright,” it wasn’t an outright lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either, “promise, kiddo.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time Joel and Ellie came home, not too much later, you were already in bed. You weren't sleeping, but pretended to be when Joel came into the bedroom. 

"Sweetheart?" His voice was soft, a tone that he only adopted for you or Ellie, as he came into the room and took in your bundled form, "you awake?"

You thought about rolling over and saying something but didn't find it within yourself to do so. You felt bad; he hadn't done anything wrong but you were.. having a moment. 

Instead you remained silent while you listened to him undress and get into pajamas before sliding into bed with you. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling into his chest. You felt him relax as he pressed a few kisses to your shoulder; this man really was a sucker for you.

You had to stop yourself from audibly sighing at the way it felt to be in his arms. It might just have been your favorite place in the world. 

Now you just had to fight off the odd feeling that was settling into your chest.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 Joel had noticed that something was off right away. He was good at reading you, which was both a blessing and a curse. After that night, you went on a downward spiral of coming to the conclusion that you weren’t enough for Joel. Not good enough, not anything enough.

You slowly began to pull away from Joel - and Ellie - bit by bit. At first he chalked up to you not feeling well, or just having a moment, but the longer it became and the further you pushed him away, the more concerned he became. He knew that something was wrong, he just needed to find out what. He wanted, desperately, to make it better but you wouldn’t even talk to him enough so he could begin to figure it out. 

But that was the thing about Joel - he was stubborn and persistent. He didn’t give up on the things he loved. 

He’d never give up on you. He’d wait until the end of time if you needed him too. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I think we should break up," you looked at him with a serious expression but that didn't stop him from almost laughing. You glowered at him and his expression dropped when he realized that you hadn't been joking. You were being…serious.

"Wait, what?" he looked at you dumbfoundedly, like he expected you to start laughing or something, "honey."

"I'm sorry," you shifted your gaze to the floor and focused it on your feet, "but I think this is best for everyone."

"You want to break up?" He repeated, trying to put a finger under your chin in order to get you to look at him. You recoiled from his touch and that was enough to break his heart, "what do you mean? Why are you doing this?"

"Joel," your voice cracked on his name and you tried to look away. At the very least, you didn't want him to see you cry, "I can't…this is just best for everyone."

"No," he shook his head, "I don't think you believe that for a moment. And you're wrong, I know you know that."

"I don't want to be you," you lied, the sound of your harsh words making your own heart break a little. The look on his face did little to help, "I don't want you."

He remained for a few long, tense moments before he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, "okay."

"Joel…"

"Listen, I love you and if not being together is what you want, I'll respect that," your heart dropped into your stomach; you hadn't really expected him to let you go that easily. You'd hoped for more of a fight…maybe you really were making the right decision after all, "whatever you need to do is fine."

"O-okay," you nodded in agreement, "I'll just get my stuff and go. I-I'm gonna stay with Tommy and Maria for a bit."

"Sure," alright, it was almost infuriating to have him so relaxed, "do you need a hand packing?"

Bastard.

"No," you shook your head, "its alright."

"I guess I'll see you around," you didn't even bother to say anything as you ran up the stairs to pack your little bit of stuff. Joel remained still as he watched you go, shaking his head to himself.

"You're really just going to let her go?" Ellie slicked into the room with a worried expression on her face. Joel scoffed and shook his head, "oh. Do you have a plan?"

"Of course I do," he playfully tapped the side of her cheek, "the women in my life will be the death of me. I'm the one that suggested to Maria to ask her to stay if she said anything about leaving."

"She's been acting off," Ellie frowned as she looked towards the stairs, "ever since that night at the bar."

"I know," he sighed softly, "I have a feeling I know what it is, but I want her to come to her own conclusion."

"Do you think she will?" 

"I think so," he nodded, "and if not, I'll just have to give her a little hand."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You'd been out of the home you'd once shared with Joel and Ellie for about two weeks now. The worst two weeks ever. You missed the two of them like crazy and it seemed like they popped up anywhere you were. Whether it was on purpose or coincidence, it made your heart earn and ache for them.

But you had made your decision and maybe one day you'd move on. You hoped that Joel would find somehow that was actually worthy of him. Even if it killed you inside. 

Joel had hoped that you would have come around by now, but he was keeping an eye on things and maybe planning a little something to speed things up. 

Before he could act on any of his whims and fancies, fate seemed to step in. 

It was movie night within Jackson and you went to offer your mind some distraction. You were hanging with Maria and, despite your best efforts, you found your eye wandering around to look for Ellie or Joel. Old habits die hard.

You found Ellie with a couple of her friends, including the girl she'd confessed was her current crush, and that brought a smile to your face. When you spied Joel, however, your mood soured. 

He was surrounded by a group of women and they were all clearly fawning over him. Gross. You were half invested in your conversation with Maria and a friend of hers but found your eye wandering over to him repeatedly. He became increasingly uncomfortable looking with each passing moment, but when one of the women started putting her hands on him, you couldn't take it anymore. 

You turned around and stomped away from Maria and over to Joel. He wasn't aware of the fact that you were coming over until you were right in front of him and smiling at him sweetly. The women around him parted like the sea as they flared daggers at you. 

"Honey," you leaned up and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. He looked shocked for just a moment before sliding into his role so effortlessly, "its getting late, are you almost ready to go?"

"Y-yeah - yes," he nodded before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him, "I'm ready when you are, darlin'."

"Y'all don't mind if I steal him, right?" You offered up the sweetest, most syrupy smile you could as you glanced around the flock of women that had been surrounding him. They made small sounds but none of them argued with you. They knew better than to cross you.

And it felt so natural to take his hand and lace your fingers through his. Joel naturally took charge as he started to lead you out of the packed building and into the cool autumn air. You walked down in the street in a tense silence before he came to a stop and cleared his throat. 

You stopped too and turned around to face him, wishing you didn't have to have the conversation you knew was coming up.

"So," he said slowly as you exhaled, "that happened. Why?"

"There's nothing much to it," you tried to wave him off but you knew he knew you were lying, "they were surrounding you like a pack of hyenas and you looked uncomfortable. I know that look on your face, Joel. I just…figured I'd spare you."

"Thank you," he whispered softly, "that was it, huh."

"What else do you want me to say?" You threw your hands up in defeat, ready to turn around and run home, "you would have done the same for me."

"Without hesitation," he agreed, "but you…I know better than you think. Tell me that's all and I'll walk away and leave you alone."

But…you couldn't bring yourself to deny him. Opening and closing your mouth a few times, you found it almost impossible to find the right words, "I dunno, Joel. What do you want me to say?"

"The truth," he whispered softly, "I'd like at least that much."

"I was jealous!" You almost shouted at him as you threw up your hands, "I was jealous of those women practically eating you alive with how desperate they were for you!"

"Okay," was all he said but there was a beaming grin growing across his face.

"I hate that they think they can have you," yup. Everything was suddenly bubbling up at once and you didn't care enough to stop it anymore, "you were mine! They don't deserve you, you can do so much better. I-I don't deserve you either. I fucked it all up. And I'm sorry for what I did and said to you but I'm not sorry for what I did back there."

"Sweetheart-"

"I'm sorry for hurting you," big, fat tears had rolled down your cheeks, "but I did what I thought was right. I don't deserve…I'm just me."

"Oh sweet girl," he reached for both of your hands and pulled you closer into his warm frame, "that's what had been about, huh? Silly girl."

"Joel-"

"How could you not think you deserve me?" He asked and you shrugged, sniffling slightly as he wiped away your tears, "you're the only one that will ever get me. If anything, I don't deserve you. Baby, you're it for me. You always have been and always will be."

"Why?" You had a pretty pout on your lips that he was tempted to kiss away, "why me? I'm so plain compared to those women that always throw themselves at you. They're so pretty and I'm not. I can't cook, I'm not handy, and I feel like a liability more than anything! I thought I was doing you a favor."

"Well," he shook his head fondly, "you're wrong on every account. You are the most beautiful, wonderful, and amazing women I have ever met. I don't need anything but you. I love you and only you. And it will always be you."

"Joel," his name sounded like a prayer of relief falling from your lips, "I…are you sure?"

"I've always been sure," he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, "and I still am. I know what I want you - you to come back home and to have you back in our bed every night, to have our family whole again. But it is up to you."

"Are you really sure? It's not just the moment?"

"Baby-"

"Because what if you-"

And then he took your face in his hands and gently cradled it as he held your gaze. A few moments passed before he pressed his lips to yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. It was soft and barely there but it felt so utterly perfect. When he pulled back, you looked up at him with big, wide eyes. 

“Oh,” you managed to choke out as you look at him, “you’re serious then.”

“Of course,” he said in a no duh voice as he chuckled fondly, “but like I said - whatever you want to do is up to you.”

“I want to come home,” there was no hesitation to your answer and that made his heart constrict with happiness, “and be with you and have our family back together.”

“Yeah?” he brushed your hair out of your face before kissing your forehead. 

 “Yes,” this time you took his face in your hands and kissed him slowly, “I want you. Only and always you.”

Before either of you could say anything else you heard a cheer from down the street - Ellie. She waved at the two of you, a big grin on her face, “about time! Welcome home!”

“What the kid said,” the two of you shared a small laugh, “welcome home, sweetheart.”

[ithinkabouttzu]

May I request band of brothers x reader and reader falling asleep on them?

Yes ofc thank you for your request my beloved! 💗

BoB reaction to you falling asleep on them

genre: Romance; fluff

warnings: none

Description: BoB reaction to their s/o (you) falling asleep on them for the first time

Dick Winters

Okay so I think he would he shocked at first seeing you lay your head right on his chest with ease., “What are they doing?” Is what he’s probably thinking in his head, once he finally hears your soft snores, then he’d notice that you’ve fallen asleep on him. He’s smile softly to himself, making sure to be extra quiet and careful not to wake you up. Honestly he’d be a little blushy at first too, just happy that you feel comfortable enough to fall asleep on him

Lewis Nixon

His breathing would just stop at first when you lay your head on his shoulder. Like omg? You got this man over here getting nervoussss when you do that. Like you got him scared to even move an inch. He’d even try slowing down his breathing because he didn’t want to wake you up. He’d be so sweet about it, he’d hold you in his arms and stroke your hair softly. I could also seeing him getting sleepy and falling asleep on you :,)

Carwood Lipton

He is so cute about it, he’d ask you if you’re alright, not realizing how tired you were. Once he realized you had fallen asleep on him his heart literally melted omg. And you better get that he was still as stone when you were sleeping, bc you’re his bae and you deserve a good sleep in his arms. He’d hold you so softly and feeling of your head on him would make him just content. He’d definitely fall asleep to just holding you so comfortably.

Joe Toye

A huge smile appears on his face when he sees you laying your head on him. He’s tries to play it off all chill but he’s lowkey so excited on the inside. He would wrap an arm around you and keep you secure, making sure that if anyone came by that they were quiet, and ofc making sure he was quiet himself. The cutest thing of all though is how sweet he is to you when you wake up from your short nap. “How are you pretty thing? Ya sleep okay?” UGH he’d be so cute about it. I think you just falling asleep on him would be his favorite thing about y’all’s relationship.

Joe Liebgott

Freezes in his spot when he sees you laying your head on him. “Are you okay?” He’d say, Looking at your face he would see how exhausted you looked and maybe thought that you weren’t feeling good or something was wrong. When you told him that you were just sleepy, and that’s why, he would be so sweet. Honestly he would’ve gotten so happy hearing that’s why you were laying on him. Asking you if you want his jacket or something he has for you to warm up in. Resting on him would be one of the most comfiest things ever. Plus he’d be rubbing your arms up and down, hugging you super tight and warm.

Bill Guarnere

A big ole smirk would come up on his face so quickly. “get comfy, doll” He would rub his arms down back and forth on your arm, keeping a tight grip on your body. He would be so warm and comfortable to fall asleep on, he would try and keep quiet the whole time, especially when he heard you snoring. I think he would really enjoy you taking a nap on him (LOL) , He would end up getting so sleepy, he’d try fighting it off at first but he’d end up giving up after seeing how comfortable you were in his arms.

George Luz

Oh boy, he’s a total angel about the whole thing, when he sees you lay your head on you it makes his heart beat 2x faster then it’s original pace like omg. If you look up at him, all you will see on his face is that huge bright smile of his staring back at you. On the outside he’d try to keep it cool, and not make too much of a scene, but in the inside he was literally FREAKING out, like he is totally frozen in his position because he would feel absolutely horrible to accidentally wake you up. I think he would stroke your hair really nicely, helping you go to sleep with his calming touch almost immediately.

Bull Randleman

Ugh he’s honestly the best person to fall asleep on after a long day. He’d be so nice about it, at first he’d ask you if you were okay, “Are you alright. darlin’?” and you’d reply back just saying you were sleepy or something like that, and he’d say, “Come er’ get some sleep, princess/prince” He’d hold you super soft and would be a total snuggle bug. You made his day just holding onto him tightly while sleeping. he’d be a little nervous at first, because he didn’t want to accidentally hurt you or wake you at first, He would just watch you, admiring you and seeing how beautiful you truly are. He’s just so happy he gets to be around you, you make him so happy.

Eugene Roe

He’s having an internal breakdown when you just lay your head on him, you got him freaking out on the inside for real. He wouldn’t say anything to you about it though, he would just try his hardest to be natural, and he’d lean into you too, holding you by your shoulder and rubbing it slowly. He was nervous you could hear his heartbeat thumping out of his chest at first. But he still tried his best to be normal, and not make you uncomfortable in any way. Laying on him you’d almost fall asleep like immediately, there’s just something so warming about him, you just feel safe enough to sleep in his arms. While your sleeping, he thinks you look absolutely adorable. He’s ultimately glad that he’s with you right now.

Floyd Talbert

He is actually giggling on the inside like a little girl omg, also when you lay on him it’s just an ego booster, like out of all people, your laying on him, he definitely feels lucky, even though he knows his way around the ladies, all of that smoothness goes out the window with you. He just feels so happy when you lay on him comfortably, when he hears you snoring lightly, he can’t help but let out a small laugh and a huge smile. He just feels so nice with you laying on him, you are his favorite person ever.

Skip Muck

Okay so, I think he would be so so excited to be hanging out with you in general, so can you just imagine the look on his face when he sees you laying your head on his chest. Like his heart is ready to burst at any moment, don’t even get me started. I think he’d be so nervous to move, just because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. He realizes that your sleeping when he hears your soft snores for the first time. He thinks you sound so so cute, like he falls in love with you a million times more when he hears that. Ugh he’s just so obsessed with you.

Don Malarkey

This sweet boy is more than happy for you to lay down on him. You’re sleepy? Well of course, lay down. His heart rate would go up by a bunch when you put your head on him, He can’t lie though, you feel so comfortable. I think he’d end up falling asleep first though and it’d be so cute, you’d look up to see him just snoring and he was passed out LOL, It’s just that he is so comfortable around you that he can fall asleep so easily, he doesn’t know why but he just does, oh and, something else that is absolutely adorable, is how even though he’s asleep, he will still stroke you hair so softly, just because he finds it so comforting holding you.

Babe Heffron

He is so happy when he sees you lay down on him, like his smile gets so big and his heart rate starts beating faster and faster. He would be so excited but nervous while you lay on him, he doesn’t want to disturb you or something that would make you get up, once he starts getting more comfortable with you laying on him, he’d wrap his arms around you and just hug you there, he’s super super sweet when you are laying down. And when he hears you snoring, ugh he thinks you are even cuter, he’d hold you for the rest of the time, just giving your the best forehead kisses and whispering the sweetest little things in your ear while you were asleep. “You’re my favorite, you know that right?”

Shifty Powers

Oh my, this sweethearts face would get so red when he sees you just laying down ask getting comfortable on his chest. He was honestly scared you could hear his heart beating because it was going so fast. He would timidly out his hand on your back and hold you gently. Honestly he’s the most comfortable person you could ever sleep with, Like just relaxing with him will make you instantly fall asleep. He’s so sweet the whole time, just rubbing your back and hugging in the best way ever. When he sees that your sleeping a huge smile appears on his face, he is in absolute awe of your beauty and he just loves you so much.

Frank Perconte

When he sees you laying down on his shoulder his body just rushes with love omg. He would be a little nervous at first but I think after awhile he would out of instinct just wrap his arms around you and hold you close, and in reaction to that I think he’d get really sleepy, like he’d be trying to fight sleep the whole time, just because he didn’t want to be rude. But when calls your name and you don’t answer back, He would look at you and see that you’re sleeping. He would he admiring you so hard, just thinking to himself how cute you are in his arms, before he finally fell asleep himself.

[anon-drabble]

wake up

whoops, got bit by that inspiration bug again.

some good old seven angst because why not lol. similar to the reset theory but also inspired by a few other sources that talk about multiple universes.

ao3 | ko-fi | twitter | masterpost

When will she wake up?

Once more, Saeyoung reset the app. One more time. Surely, she’d remember. This time, she would. 

He’d been repeating that with every reset. Every time the data was erased, he said those words to himself. Every time, he wished. But so far, she remained unaware. Maybe someday she would remember everything and remember him. But maybe she wouldn’t. That didn’t matter, though. He’d promised her that he would never stop trying. And she promised that she would remember him. It had been so long ago now, he almost forgot how she looked that day. 

Everything had gone wrong. Mint Eye had won, Rika had finally managed to get her wish. For everyone to be happy. But it wasn’t real. It was all through her elixir and that wasn’t true happiness. 

Saeyoung was in the prison with you. You two were the only ones left of the RFA. Unknown (who you now knew was Saeran, Saeyoung’s long-lost twin) had taken great joy in prolonging the torture Saeyoung was made to endure. At first, V had been there and had tried to save you and the rest of the RFA. But he’d been too late. In an ironic twist of fate, he simply hadn’t seen the signs in time. He was dead now. You and Saeyoung had witnessed it, watched the blood pool as his body went limp, as it slowly turned ashen. The floor of your cell was still stained with V’s blood. Saeyoung was kept in a separate cell beside yours. His stone floor was also stained but it was mostly his own blood now. Among other things. But he hadn’t been broken yet. Neither had you. You wondered if perhaps Rika and Saeran were going easy on you for some reason. After all, you had watched as one by one, each of the RFA members were taken and they slowly lost their minds. Became just another of Rika’s drones. Some of them took longer than others but eventually, they had all succumbed. At first, everyone had worked together to come up with plans for escape. But as their minds cracked, it grew more and more difficult. Saeyoung now was the only one left except for you. 

“I think tonight’s the night,” he murmured. You imagined him in his cell, on the floor, hunched over in pain from Saeran’s most recent attack. You were unhurt but Saeyoung was nursing at least a few broken bones, more bruises and cuts than you could count. You had no idea how he was even still alive. Whenever you saw him being dragged out of his cell, he had dried blood everywhere, his hair matted in clumps from it. 

You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “Did he say something?” 

“No. But I saw the room set up for another ‘recruit’. I think it’s your turn.” 

That meant you wouldn’t be coming back this time. They’d turn you, just as they had all the others. You knew it was coming. Rika spoke of you often, boasting about how she’d use you. She had already used you once, leading you to that apartment. That was when you had met the RFA. You had no idea at the time that it was her apartment. But it had all been a trap, meant to lure the RFA to Mint Eye, back to Rika’s embrace. 

“What should I do?” you whispered in the darkness. 

“There’s nothing you can do. Not this time,” Saeyoung replied. 

“‘This time’?” you echoed. 

“I think… I think I have an idea. It won’t stop anything in this world. I think it’s too late for us. But this might not be our only existence. I think I can save us next time.” You heard him shuffle over. His hand reached through his bars towards your cell. One of his fingernails had been ripped off. You clasped his hand as well as you could from your cell. 

“Then we don’t have to say goodbye.” You weren’t entirely sure if you believed in other universes but he was trying to give you hope. And probably to give himself hope as well. That was in short supply these days. 

“Right,” he said. You imagined him smiling a little. You squeezed his hand and heard him wince but he squeezed yours in return, reassuring you. “This time… I couldn’t save you. But I won’t fail you ever again.” 

“You didn’t fail me,” you started to say, but he interrupted. 

“I found a way to save us. Not our physical bodies but ‘us’. Our psyche, personality, spirit, whatever you want to call it. I can save those so that next time…” 

“We can win?” 

“Right. We can stop this. We can…save everyone. And we can be together…” He trailed off. 

“How?” you asked. 

“They left me my phone. I think they meant it to hurt me more, to make me remember how I’d messed everything up. But I made something. A program. If there are other worlds out there, it can transfer us. And we can stop this.” He sounded almost excited now. Despite everything, you smiled. He was always happiest when he was working on something outrageous. Even now, at the end, he still had that side of wonder to him. 

“What do I do?” 

He hesitated. “Nothing. Once your mind here is gone, it will transfer to another you somewhere else.” 

“What about you?” You dreaded hearing his answer. 

“It will be the same. Once I’m…gone, I’ll transfer. I can save you then.” 

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” You could hear it in his voice. 

Again, he hesitated. “You might not…remember everything. I tried to save everything but there are some holes that I can’t fix.” 

“I won’t remember you? I don’t want that. I don’t want to forget you, Saeyoung!” you cried. 

“Try to remember. At the end. Just think of me, okay? It will help me bring more of you over. Just think about me.” 

You wiped a tear from your cheek. “I’ll remember you. I promise,” you said. 

“And I’ll bring you back. All of you. And we’ll be safe.” 

“Together,” you said. 

“Together,” he answered. 

It wasn’t until later that night that some cultists came to collect you. You were dragged from your cell. Saeyoung was at his bars, watching you. You could see him crying. You were crying, too. “I promise. I’ll remember,” you said again as you were ushered from the prison. You thought of him as they poured the elixir down your throat. You remembered his laugh. His cosplay. His self-hatred. You thought of how much you loved him. Even as the elixir was forced into your mouth, dribbling out the corners, you thought of Saeyoung. You thought of the times you’d had with him, short though they had been. You thought of his voice. His hand. His hair. His glasses. You thought about him. You thought…

The familiar screen and code flashed on his screen. Sometimes, it felt like she did remember. She said all the right things, she didn’t fall victim to Mint Eye’s traps. Sometimes she still loved him. But it wasn’t all of her. She never remembered their other lives. He almost didn’t want her to. He didn’t want her to know how he had been unable to save her, how he had been forced to watch her be carried away. At least she would never know what she had been made to do to him afterwards. That would remain locked in his own mind. But wouldn’t it be better for her if she didn’t wake up? If she didn’t have to experience those days again, even as a distant memory? But he had promised her. 

And she had promised him. And someday, that life she had promised was waiting for them. Where they would be safe and together. Even as the reset code scrolled by, he longed for that day more than anything. He wasn’t exactly the same him that he had been. This Saeyoung had never been tortured by his brother, not really. But the memories were as strong as though they had happened. He wasn’t the same him and she hadn’t yet been the same her but once she woke up, then they could be. They would be themselves again fully. 

Because Saeyoung could never truly be himself when he didn’t love you.

[bisamwilson]

23, sambucky :)

#23: ...in relief

(this is in the hey princess verse but you don’t really need knowledge of it to understand this)

Sam isn’t panicking.

He isn’t, really. Sure, he’d spent half the night frantically writing and rewriting his big speech for the new refugee center’s ribbon cutting today, finally crawling into bed about two hours before his morning wake up call, and sure, he’d apparently left both his full speech draft and all of his notecards at home, but he’s not panicking.

He’s understandably nervous is all. There’s nothing wrong with a good bit of pacing every now and again. It builds character or something. One of his mentors had probably told him that once.

"You're panicking," Peggy says, rather unhelpfully, her arms crossed across her chest and her brow furrowing the way it always does when she's worried. She catches him by the shoulders and forces him to stop pacing. "Breathe, Sam. In for eight and out for ten."

That phrase had been a constant in the early days, back when Sam was sixteen and also had just been informed he was actually a prince of a country that was barely a speck on the map. It had never quite worked as well as both himself and Peggy had hoped it would, but he'd always tried anyway.

He breathes in for eight, counting in Arabic as an added distraction, and breathes back out for ten in French.

It works about as well as it had six years ago.

He does stop pacing, though, so he supposes that counts as progress.

"I am entirely too sleep deprived to come up with a speech on the spot," Sam says, replacing his pacing with his second favorite pastime when not-panicking: listing out all the ways he's probably fucked. "I could have someone get my speech and my notecards, but the castle is twenty minutes away at least, not including rushing into my office to grab them and getting into a car, and I'm on in five minutes."

"And because you're on in five minutes, you don't have time to write a new one," Peggy finishes, because she has the same horrible coping mechanisms that he does. "You could postpone?"

Sam gives her an unamused look and shakes his head. "They've been waiting long enough for this. I'm not going to make them wait even longer because I couldn't remember to grab a single notebook this morning. I could always say something generic and just let Karli know beforehand what the deal is, let her use her original speech draft that's longer."

Peggy sighs. "If you don't want to delay, that is probably the best option." She puts a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezes. "I'm sorry, Sam. I know how much this means to you."

Sam just barely refrains from rubbing his eyes in mild frustration, remembering only at the last minute his makeup team had added a bit of eye makeup today for the sake of the cameras. He wrings his hands together instead and tries to think of a reply that isn't, "Yeah, this sucks."

The door to the small room they're in opens before he can think of one, and Sam jumps, not expecting the go-time signal for another five minutes.

He relaxes when he sees Bucky's head pop through the door, hair braided back elegantly the way it only ever is for special occasions, and wearing a dark gray suit.

"Hey, princess," he says, slipping through the doorway without letting it open enough for paparazzi to see through. He's holding a ratty spiral notebook in one hand and an index card holder in the other, and if Sam didn't have to worry about looking ruffled in front of the cameras, he'd kiss him senseless. "Did you need these? Thought I'd grab them on my way out, but didn't know if you had extras with you."

Sam closes his eyes and breathes deeply before crossing the room and plucking the notebook out of Bucky's hands, holding it tightly to his chest. He cups Bucky's cheek with his free hand and uses it to tilt his face down, kissing him easily and gently, careful not to mess up any of his own makeup.

"Thanks, baby," he says softly, pulling back and taking the index cards as well. "Remind me to write my speech on Google docs next time instead of on index cards I can leave at home."

Bucky laughs. "Or you could go to bed early enough you won't forget them next time."

Sam shakes his head as he looks through his index cards. "I make no promises."

Years later, when Sam can't find his index cards in any of the pockets of his impeccably tailored white tux, Bucky pulls them out of his own breast pocket with a smile.

send me a ship and a number and i'll write a kiss!

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Thanks Astra-San I loved it!! For me it was perfect so no need for a second NSFW part, but if you can, I don't want to be a bother 🥺, can you continue where we see better the compromise reached with Sabo? I'd also like to know if reader has lived up to Hack's expectations. Kiss and Huggles 💚💜����❤💙

I had a dickens of a time not making this too long. I wanted to just keep writing, lol. I hope you like it.

Warnings: lightly suggestive, biting

Word Count: 1600

     Taking a deep breath, you looked at the yellow fishman. Honestly, you were terrified. How were you supposed to live up to Sabo’s boasting? You were fairly good, but he’d said a lot about you that just wasn’t true and you weren’t sure you could live up to what Hack might expect of you. Granted, Sabo had promised Hack, and your teachers, that he wouldn’t be stealing you away anymore, but he’d still promised the man that you would show him what you had. But of course he couldn’t just pit you up against one of the other recruits, oh no, he was fighting you himself. Of course, Sabo’s reassurances that Hack would go easy on you and was only doing it to test how good you were didn’t help at all. The fact of the matter was, you were facing a man many times more skilled than you, could probably decide your fate, and if you didn’t? Well… you didn’t want to think about the consequences. 

     Laying on the ground, you looked up at your blond haired boyfriend, the young man giving you a reassuring smile while you tried to hold the tears back. Hack had, unsurprisingly, beat you soundly into the dirt and, to be honest, you felt like you’d failed. Sabo helped you up, discreetly wiping the unshed tears away while dusting you off.

     “Come on Hack, did you have to be so mean? I promised to stop stealing her away and everything.” Sabo called over your shoulder to the fishman.

     “I can tell from here that she’s fine, Sabo. I didn’t hurt her too badly. A few bruises at most.” Hack defended, arms crossed.

     “You’re gonna kill her confidence though! I said she was better than the other recruits, not good enough to win against you.” Sabo said, pulling you close and holding you protectively.

     “You told Koala, and I quote, ‘I bet she’ll be able to beat Hack soon’.” Hack said, clearly unimpressed. Your blond haired boyfriend paused, not entirely sure what to say in his defense. He had said that and now he was getting on Hack’s case because of it.

     “Well… if you tell me that she failed then I’ll-” “She passed.” Hack said, cutting Sabo off, rolling his eyes at the blond, “You’re at least partially right, she’s ahead of the rest of the recruits. She still has a lot to learn, but she’s well on her way.” Sabo grinned at what his long time friend and previous teacher had to say.

     “You passed! I knew you could do it! See, you’re just as amazing as I said!” Sabo cheered, lifting you up and spinning you around, the sudden shift from buried in his chest to swinging around in the air making you a little dizzy. Granted, your pride was still shot, but at least Hack wasn’t scolding the shit out of Sabo while berating you for not being good enough. Sticking his tongue out at Hack, Sabo quickly picked you up bridal style before running off with you, not allowing the man to get another word in. If Hack had the chance, he might start scolding Sabo anyway and taking up his precious alone time with you and he was absolutely not going to have any of that! Besides, he could already tell that you’d lost a good portion of confidence, he didn’t need Hack making that worse by pointing out everything you’d done wrong. Pulling you into your, now shared, room, Sabo gave you another big smile. 

     “I knew you could do it! I knew you were amazing and better than everyone else!” Sabo cheered, taking your face in his hands and kissing you. 

     “Sabo, he toyed with me and then kicked my ass in under 2 minutes. How is that a success?” you asked, clearly down on yourself.

     “My deal with Hack wasn’t whether or not you could beat him. It was whether or not you were keeping up with the other recruits. What you think was him toying with you was him testing your abilities. He wanted to see what you knew and how well you were doing.” Sabo said softly, kissing your forehead as he tried to cheer you up. You gave him a small, soft smile, though it was still filled with uncertainty and hesitation. 

     “I guess… but it looks like I still have a long way to go before I can keep up that promise of earning my position beside you.” you said, still clearly disheartened.

     “Hey, it’s alright. You’re gonna do great, you don’t need to ‘earn’ anything. You know I’ll always love you regardless of your rank. You could have gotten worse and I’d still want you by my side.” he said comfortingly, holding you close once again, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up, get the dirt and dust out of your hair, and wrapped up in a nice fluffy towel. I bet a nice warm bath is just what you need.” he added, pulling you into the private bathroom. 

     The bath did, admittedly, make you feel better, the warm water soothing your muscles and relaxing you as he continued to pile praise upon praise on you as if he was trying to drown you in it. Now, wrapped in a fluffy towel, as promised, you sighed happily, his arms wrapped around your waist as he began to leave hickies along your neck and shoulder again. It seemed to be his favorite leisurely pastime as he held you. Not that you weren’t leaving your own hickies and bite marks across his own body, but his outfit usually didn’t show it off like yours did and you didn’t leave quite as many as he did. 

     “I don’t want today to end.” Sabo muttered against your skin as he glanced at the time. It wasn’t particularly late but with each passing minute, his day with you drew closer and closer towards its inevitable end.

     “And I didn’t want to face Hack, but we both made promises. Besides, once class and training are both over tomorrow, I’ll come see you right away. I promise. I’ll even bring you a snack and help you with whatever you’re working on.” you said, turning around in his arms to caress his cheek before pulling him close, starting to leave your own bites across his skin. Sabo sighed but nodded, smiling slightly. It wasn’t perfect, but at least you’d still be spending plenty of time with him.

     “Can we still train together? I like seeing you fight and I want to help you get as good as possible as fast as possible so I can go back to bragging about how amazing you are and it’s not even bad if you’re good enough to back it up.” he pleaded, a light groan leaving his lips at a particularly rough bite.

     “You agreed to not brag as much. Whether or not I get better, doesn’t mean you can brag about me any more.” you scolded, a chuckle leaving the man.

     “Maybe not, but at least when I say that you could kick Hack’s butt, you’ll actually be skilled enough to do it. I’ve toned it down a lot but if you improve, people will have to admit that I’m not just bragging and that you can back it up. Therefore, I can brag about you without bragging about you.” he said, making you sigh. 

     “You’re impossible sometimes.” you said with a small laugh as you shook your head.

     “Maybe, but you’ve admitted that you love me that way.” he said happily, making you roll your eyes. 

     “You’re right. I do love you that way.” you said, giving him a short, sweet kiss. Sabo paused for a moment before chuckling to himself.

     “You know, you promised me 2 full days where I could have you all to myself. Technically I haven’t had you all to myself today. That should mean that I should steal you away from Hack tomorrow.” Sabo said playfully, earning another rough bite to his other shoulder, a shiver running down his spine.

     “You know that’s not how it works. Yes, I promised you 2 days a week where I’m all yours, but there’s always going to be days where someone is going to absolutely, positively need us or interrupt us. You can’t just go stealing me away whenever this happens. Besides, you’re also getting me whenever I’m not busy with something else. I think you can handle losing a few minutes here or there.” you said, lightly scolding him again. Besides, he’d made a deal to not steal you away anymore, if he tried to steal you away tomorrow, you both knew he’d try to do it again using some other excuse. 

     “Fine. But tomorrow after classes and training, you’re all mine. No matter what! Okay?” he said. 

     “I promise, I’ll be all yours. I made you a deal that I’d be all yours once no one needed me.” you reassured, giving him another soft kiss. Sabo smiled, pulling you close once more. Did he get you as often as he desired? No, not really. But he knew that he needed to let you do this. Besides, it wasn’t forever, meaning he could have all the time he wanted with you once you were finished with everything. Sighing contently, he pulled you to lay on the bed with him, snuggling up with you, both of you still clad in nothing but your towels. Not that he really cared, he liked cuddling with you like this, it was more intimate, closer, feeling your skin beneath his fingertips. Nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head, he smiled. For all his complaining about not spending enough time with you lately, it was all worth it for moments like this; having you curled up with him in your shared bed, able to hold you as you both relaxed or at night when you fell asleep. As much as he protested and whined, it was always worth it, would always be worth it for moments like these.

[sluttywoozi]

Give You My Wild | Like a Cowboy Pt. 3/4

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.1k (there is no plot I’m so sorry)

Part One | Part Two

Warnings: HEAVY BREEDING AND IMPREG KINK, historical inaccuracy probably, crying (during sex and not), size kink, oral (f.rec.), fingering, big dick gyu, lowkey somnophilia?? (idk its more like pussy put his ass to sleep now he’s calling you nyquil), cockwarming, dreams of pregnant sex, they want to have a baby i cannot emphasize this enough, feels v romance novelly to me 

Reader Notes: hands are smaller than gyu’s, has vagina and breasts, called baby, honey, sweetheart, wife

Mingyu watches from the porch, fondness and just a bit of exasperation in his eyes, as you organize and pack up the wagon. You’re about to embark on your pre-freeze fishing trip and he tried to help, but you like the packing done a certain way. You arrange by what you’ll need to take out first, keeping the tent closest to the edge and sustenance for the way there closest to the front, where you’ll be able to lean back on the bench and take something should hunger arise. 

He’s itching to get going, partly because he wants to reach the river by nightfall, mostly because he’s already envisioning what he’ll be doing to you in the tent after you arrive. And on the riverbank, on top of a blanket and under the stars. Perhaps also in the back of the wagon on the way there. 

He’s got an excuse now, or maybe an explanation, for his voracious appetite for you. 

It happened when you were cooking together a few weeks ago, pork tenderloin with garden grown squash. You were dancing a little dance to the beat of his humming and taps with the knife as he cut the vegetables on the butcher block when you stilled, a strange look crossing your face and your hands nervously wringing your apron. 

Mingyu had been scared something was wrong, that he’d done something to upset you, and put down the knife immediately. He’d crossed the kitchen to you, his humming silenced with his heart caught in his throat like it was, and took you by the hand, tugging you to the dining table. He sat in the chair heavily and pulled you to sit across his lap, wrapping his arms tight around you and holding you secure until you gathered the courage to speak. 

“I think I want…” you take a deep breath, looking away from him with teary eyes before finding his gaze again and continuing, “I want us to have a baby, Gyu. I want us to have a family.”

The gasp he took in was followed by more, quick breaths nearly mistakable for sobs as he pressed his face into your shoulder and let the tears gather on his lashes. Mingyu had wanted this for so long, since you married him, really, but you hadn’t been ready. Of course, he didn’t push you, resolved not to bring it up until you did, and he really wasn’t prepared for how he’d feel now that you have. He was sure you could feel his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest with how closely he held you to him, but you didn’t seem to mind. You just rested your head on top of his and let your own tears soak into his hair, gentle fingers grazing circles on his shoulders. 

Once all the tears dried up, the mood changed. 

It was like a switch flipped in him, realizing that the next time he made love to you, it would be with the purpose of filling you up with his baby. The herbs you took prevented it, but soon enough he’d get to watch your stomach grow and know that he’d been the one to make it happen. He’d get to rub your aches and pains away, fall asleep curled up around you with his hand pressed to your belly and tiny little kicks tapping against his palm, wait on you hand and foot once you got too big to easily navigate the house. All the things he’d been dreaming about, he would finally get to share with you.

He took you on the table that day, your legs caught in his elbows and his cock pounding into you, dishes clanking against the wood and flatware sliding off the edge with the force of his thrusts. After you climaxed and he emptied himself inside you, he’d knelt down and watched as your clenching walls pushed out his spend before gathering it all up on his fingers and pushing it back inside you, keeping you plugged up until your cunt stopped contracting around them and he was sure you’d be able to keep it inside. 

Mingyu’s gone wild for you in the days and weeks following, waking you in the night and sliding home once you sleepily part your legs, bending you over sinks and hoisting you up on counters, taking you against doors and walls, and once or twice, the railing of the front porch. 

Even now, as he watches you lift onto your tiptoes and bend into the wagon to rearrange the fishing poles, he’s thinking about pulling up your skirt, spreading you open, and fucking you full of his seed. And if he wasn’t so concerned it would make the coming journey more uncomfortable for you, he wouldn't even hesitate. 

The wagon bumps raggedly along the dirt road and Mingyu’s even more sure of his decision to hold off until you make it to the river. The idea was tempting but not worth causing you further discomfort, your sweet attempts to hide your winces unsuccessful. Wagons are not the most glamorous form of travel, but they’re the only option when one lives as far from the city as Mingyu and you do. 

There’s not much longer to go now, about an hour, and Mingyu is pleased to estimate about two hours of sunlight left, just enough time to arrive and set up camp. He has a lot of plans for this trip, all of which start and end with you, and he’s getting more and more excited to see them through. 

Mingyu heaves a sigh of exhaustion and sets his hands on his hips as he looks around your little section of the riverbank. The tent has been pitched, the smoker built, the food hung up and away, and he thinks there’s just enough time to watch the sun set on your naked skin. You’re on your hands and knees arranging the bedding underneath the canvas shelter and Mingyu makes his way over, rocks clacking against each other under his heavy steps, his boots landing harder as he nears you so he can ensure you’re not startled by his appearance. You sit back on your knees just as he approaches, turning around to beam at him and proudly present your hard work. 

The tent looks so cozy, duvet and pillows placed carefully and extra quilts stacked to the side for the inevitable drop in temperature.  Mingyu’s already looking forward to crawling in and pulling you close, wrapping you up in his arms and keeping you warm with the heat of his body. “Good work, darlin’. We’ll sleep well tonight but I’ll be sure to wear you out, just in case,” he flirts, knowing your cheeks must be heating and delighting in the way your eyes drop to the side, fondly taking in the bashful smile that graces your lips. 

You reach a hand up and Mingyu grasps it, pulling you to your feet and into his body, trying not to giggle at the way you stumble into him with a gasp. He forgets his own strength sometimes but this isn’t one of them, no, it's intentional, all part of his plan to have his wicked way with you. You love how strong he is, how big he is, and he takes advantage of it, riling you up with seemingly innocent acts until you’re as hot for him as he always is for you. It works, of course, your eyes shuttering as a haze overtakes them, your fingers holding onto his for dear life and your other hand rising to rest on his chest. 

Mingyu knows he should seduce you a bit more, that you deserve more wooing, but he’s wanted you all day and you’re just so soft and warm against him that he can’t help but lean down and press his lips to yours. You melt into him with a sigh, your mouth opening as soon as he brushes his tongue over your bottom lip. He does take his time kissing you, something he believes is always worth doing, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling his hand from yours to rest his palm on the curve of your neck, his thumb tracing over your pulse. It jumps when he moans into your mouth and he grins against your lips, your physical reaction to him as captivating as always. 

He follows when you start backing up toward the tent, his hands leaving your body to clumsily pull at the buttons of your dress, his lips forming a pout against yours when you push them away and undo the buttons yourself. “I don’t want you to rip them,” you mutter, your dress hanging open and your hands moving to unbutton his shirt.

“Baby, I would never,” Mingyu protests, hoping you won’t remember-

“Mingyu, I’ve had to sew buttons back onto three different things just this week. Don’t even try it,” you hiss, shrugging your dress down your arms. 

Your breasts shift with your movement and suddenly, Mingyu can’t focus on anything else. His hands still at his belt and his gaze grows heavy as you shove the dress off, each inch of skin revealed making his heart beat faster and faster. Every time he sees you bare, it feels like the first. Like sunlight breaking through gloomy storm clouds, like a steaming hot bath after a long day’s work, like the first bloom of spring after a blistering winter. You’re pure warmth to him, everything good and kind and beautiful in this world, and Mingyu will never get over the fact that you chose him to share your life with. 

He wants to thank you, wants to get down on his knees and worship at your altar, so he does. He tugs your shift off with impatient hands, takes you by the waist, spreads you out on the bedding you’d so meticulously laid, and shoulders his way between your thighs. The gasp you let out lifts one side of his mouth in a satisfied smirk, but the expression falls when he sees the wet mess of your cunt. His groan is guttural, pained almost, and he wastes no time before diving into you. He’s relentless, his tongue dipping inside you for a taste before sliding up through your folds to tap at your clit, the moans and whimpers escaping you muffled by your thighs as they clamp around his head. 

Mingyu loves it, loves being buried in you, surrounded by you, can’t get enough, will never get enough of you. He knows this well, revels in it, basks in the knowledge that he doesn’t need to get enough of you because he’ll always have you. You will always be his and he will always be yours, the matching rings on your left fourth fingers and the baby he’ll put in your belly evidence. 

You’re close already, your clit pulsing under his tongue and your hips jerking into his face, but he knows you like something to squeeze so he sinks two fingers deep inside, your pussy sucking them in immediately like you’ve been itching for them. He wants, needs to feel you cum, needs to make you cum, his fingers curling in you to find that ridged spot that makes you leak like a broken faucet. By now, it’s easy to pinpoint, easy to rub just right, with just enough pressure to make you squirm as he fingers you open. 

He’s obsessed with your sounds, or what he can hear of them through your thighs. Your moans and whimpers and sighs might as well be music to his ears, and the noises that come from your cunt whenever he hooks his fingers or thrusts them in and out practically make him feral. You’re just so wet, goddamn drenched every single time he touches you, and it’s enough to send his head spinning, especially when he’s already got the taste of you in his mouth. He’s cum like this before, and he will again, but not today. 

No, today, you’re going to cum on his tongue and his fingers, then again (and maybe once more) on his cock before he fills you up with his load. He wouldn’t be shocked if you were already with child with how much he’s been giving you lately, but he plans on fucking you full until you tell him to stop, just for good measure. 

Your pussy starts its tell-tale quivering, your walls undulating around his fingers and your clit throbbing under his tongue, and he knows you’re right there, knows all you need is a suck of his mouth and a good grind deep inside, so he gives it to you. He purses his lips around you and digs his fingertips into your sweet spot, his deep voice mirroring the moan you let out when you tip over the edge. He keeps groaning into you, whining when he feels you clench so tight he can’t move his fingers. He’s not sure how your wetness is seeping out with the way you’re locked around him but he knows he wants to taste it, drink it down, savor it, because your cunt is the best meal he’s ever had and the only one he’ll ever want. 

He’s still sucking your clit, so enraptured by your taste that he doesn’t notice you trying to wriggle away in sensitivity until you push him from you by the forehead. He apologizes swiftly, shifting up to plant a wet kiss on your lips before checking in with you. 

“You alright, sweetheart? You still want my cock?” Mingyu asks quietly, unwilling to disturb the bubble you’re floating in right now. 

“Good, Gyu, I’m good. Want your cock, want you to fill me up,” you gasp, your voice weak but your hands strong in their grip on him. 

“I’ll fill you up, baby, you know I will,” he breathes into your mouth as his lips press against yours once more before he pulls away. His feet had been outside the tent the whole time, a fact that makes him chuckle to himself while he unlaces and toes his boots off.

After clumsily unfastening his belt and shucking his pants, he drops to his knees and yanks off his shirt, the buttons undone by your fingers what feels like eons ago. The temperature is already dropping with the setting sun so Mingyu stretches out and covers your body with his, knowing his own furnace-like body heat will keep you warm. He also just loves feeling you under him, loves how you’re all soft and warm and shorter than him. He knows you love it too so he lets some of his weight rest on you as he takes you behind the knees and pushes your thighs up to your chest. This is one of his favorite ways to make love to you, he can get so deep and you get so tight, especially when he climbs on top of you and thrusts down with the weight of his body behind him. You love that, so it’s exactly what he’ll give you tonight.

He lets his cock glide through your folds until it glistens with your wetness, until you’re whining beneath him and trying to buck your hips up to get him inside. He won’t tease you further than this, but he can’t help making you wait for it, just for a little. He likes how it makes you as desperate as he always feels when it comes to you, how you whimper and beg and shake, how you dig your nails into his skin in retribution, and oh, the threats…

“Mingyu, if you don’t get in me right now, I swear I’ll-” Your warning is cut off by a sharp gasp as he splits you open on his cock, your cunt still tight around him even after he was just two fingers deep. The heat that swallows him is intoxicating, incandescent, and the moan you grant him with spurs a thrust that sends him even deeper inside, down to the root of his cock. He waits for your walls to stop fluttering around him, waits for your fingers in his hair and your voice in his ear, telling him, “Please, Gyu, please, fill me up.”

Your words are like a trigger, his hips bucking into you without his permission. He manages to angle them up at the last second, make it count, and the sound you let out has him thrusting into you again. You’re so reactive, so receptive to everything he gives you, and it’s enough to get him close much too quickly. 

He doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold it off, was far too ambitious in thinking he could outlast you cumming around him after making you cum on his fingers and tongue, so he works a hand between your bodies and finds your clit with a work-calloused thumb. You’re so wet, he can glide circles over your swollen nerves with no friction, fuck his cock in and out with sounds so obscene, a blush rises to his cheeks. You’re making the prettiest sounds, your mouth stuck open with pleasure and your eyes squeezed shut, tears gathering on your lash line and threatening to drip down your cheeks. He’ll never not be infatuated with how you respond to him, never not love every noise that leaves your lips and every expression that crosses your face, never not adore getting to be with you, to take care of you in this way. 

Mingyu is the luckiest man on earth, the most blessed person of all time, to have you. The knowledge makes his heart feel too big for his chest, brings grateful tears to his eyes, makes him fuck into you just a bit harder, just a bit faster. 

He’s getting so close and he can feel that you are too, in the clenching of your walls and the way your thigh shakes under his hand, and he knows that all you need is a bit of encouragement. 

“Fit me so perfectly, honey, gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me give you my baby?” His own words make his cock twitch and he can feel himself get harder inside you, bigger, and fuck, if you don’t break soon, he just might. 

“Yes, yes, yes, Gyu, want it so bad!” You throw your head back, one hand twisted up in the pillow and the other covering his on your thigh. Your fingers squeeze his and he’s quick to intertwine them, the difference in size shocking as always. 

The circles on your clit stop, but before you can complain he’s gently pinching it between two of his knuckles and fucking into you harder, his hips tilted so the spongy head of his cock can pound right into that bumpy patch inside of you. 

“Please, sweetheart, please,” Mingyu begs you to cum, begs you to fall off the edge before he does, and you listen. 

You listen, thank goodness, your sweet, hot cunt clamping down on his cock and sucking him in deeper as your walls try to milk him dry. It works, his balls seizing up and his dick jumping inside you, his seed flooding into your womb. His legs fold under your ass as he drops down to hover above you, bending you in half and leaning in for a kiss. You can’t kiss him back, panting as you are, but he doesn’t mind, pecking all over your face and down your neck. His teeth close on your collarbone just as his cock shoots one last rope of cum into you, making you whimper and arch your back for more. 

He’s discovered you like when he fucks you until he’s soft, so he draws his hips back and slides them forward again, his cum smoothing his movements even further. He’s glad you packed extra blankets because this duvet cover will need to be washed after he’s finished making a mess of you. His cheeks flame again as the slick squelch reaches his ears, the sound growing louder as you grow wetter. He keeps rutting into you, his sensitive, softening dick drawing one last release from you before he finally pulls out. 

He covers your cunt with his hand before any more of his cum can drip out, shifting to lay on his elbows between your legs so he can see clearly as he gathers it all up on his fingers and pushes it back inside you. You look so well fucked, your eyes closed and your face slack in exhausted ecstasy, your cunt glossy and spread open. He would fuck you again if he had it in him, make you cum with his tongue if he didn’t want to keep his seed buried deep in you. Instead, he leaves his fingers inside and rises back up, sliding his arm beneath your back and pulling you into his chest. 

He thinks you may be sleeping, but he really should get you and the tent cleaned up, so he slowly withdraws his fingers and takes your hand, guiding it down between your legs. You know what to do, covering your entrance with your fingers and squeezing your legs closed as he pulls you into a sitting position and dampens a cloth with water from the jug you’d brought. 

He cleans you up gently, thoughtfully, smoothing the rag over your limbs and being especially careful with your inner thighs, where you’re sure to bruise from the force of his hips, before lightly running it between your legs. Mingyu loves this part too, having the privilege of caring for you in such a vulnerable state. It always feels sacred, as if he’s carrying out one of the most important of his husbandly duties, putting to action the vows he made years ago. To have and to hold. He’s had you, and now he gets to hold you. 

The washing of the duvet can wait until later, he just shoves it into a corner and takes hold of another, pulling it over you after carefully dressing you in your shift. Once you’re comfortable and warm, he sets about tidying himself, wetting a new rag and first cleaning your fingers before cleaning his own and the rest of his body. If this were home, he wouldn’t dress at all, but out in the wilderness, it’s simply unsafe to remain nude, so he pulls on his underclothes and pants. 

They feel itchy on his sensitive skin, on his spent cock, but it was all worth it. And it’ll be worth it tomorrow morning and afternoon too. 

Mingyu jerks awake, your finger poking his chest and your voice soft against the rushing of the water and the sounds of nature. It’s still dark, likely midway through the night, and as soon as he sets eyes on you, he can tell why you woke him. You look dewy with sweat, your eyes hazy and warm and your skin even warmer. 

“Need me?” He rumbles lowly, waiting for you to nod and reach for his pants before undoing them himself and helping you climb atop him. He can barely open his eyes, he’s still so tired, but with just a few grinds of your wet center on his cock he’s hard enough to fuck you. He only gets harder when you sit down on his dick, your cunt open enough from earlier that you don’t need any preparation. You’re snug around him, still sticky inside with his cum, and his exhaustion only adds to his euphoria. 

He’s lost in a dreamlike state as you fuck him, his head lolling back on the pillow and his hips mindlessly bucking into yours each time you drop yourself down on him. He’s too gone to wish he could help more, too drunk on your warmth to think about anything but staying inside you for the rest of forever. His head spins, his fingers clenching in the blankets as you clench around his cock, but when you tighten on him with a sharp gasp, he forces his eyes open. 

You’re touching yourself. 

Fuck. Fuck, you’re touching yourself, your hand buried between your legs and your little fingers bumping against the base of his dick as you rub sloppy circles your clit. You’re not even looking at him, your eyes are closed and your head is tilted back, and he can just barely see the glint of your wedding ring in the moonlight that soaks through the canvas of the tent. You’re so beautiful, his perfect wife, who woke him just because she needed him, because she needed to use him. 

Mingyu didn’t know he would, but he fucking loves it. Loves being used by you, needed by you, and he should have known. It’s so obvious he could laugh if he wasn’t so busy moaning, his voice caught in a breathless loop of groans and whimpers of your name, pleads slipping out as your cunt swallows his cock over and over again. He’s getting so close, doesn’t even know what he needs to fall over the edge, but as always, you do, even subconsciously and, perhaps, selfishly. 

What he needs is for you to cum, and when you do fall apart around him, he’s quick to follow, nearly whining your name as his sensitive cock twitches and fills you with cum again. His eyes fall shut, his lungs burning as he pants as if he did any of the work, and when you snuggle into his chest, he does his best to wrap his listless arms around you. 

“Can I stay?” He breathes into your hair, waiting for you to nod and kiss his pec before almost immediately falling back asleep, his snores filling the air and his cock filling you. 

This time, Mingyu wakes you. 

He had the most wonderful dream; you were riding him again but this time, your belly was bigger, and your breasts were too. You were with child, his child, and it felt like the realization of everything he’s ever wanted. You, growing a miraculous little being that would hopefully look more like you, and him, holding you up and holding you close. 

And when he blinked awake, you were on top of him and his arms were wrapped around you, and if he didn’t feel that your belly was the same against his own, he almost could have pretended his dream was real. What was real was his cock, and how hard it was inside of you. 

He didn’t want to fuck you without asking first, so he set a hand on your hip and squeezed gently, murmuring your name until you stirred. 

Now, here he has you, both hands on your hips, holding you up and fucking into you just like in his dream. Soon, the rest of it will be real too, and he’s already nearing the edge just thinking about it. 

You’re so sensitive, he knows this will have to be the last time for at least half the day, so he makes it count, bringing a thumb to your tender clit and whispering all of the details into your neck in between kisses and bites. 

It’s not long until you’re shaking apart on top of him, quietly whining into his chest and digging your nails into his shoulders. It’s reflex by now, to cum when you do, and he can’t stop the wave of pleasure that overcomes him any more than he can stop the deep groan the spills from his lips as he fills you for the last time. He exhales thank you’s into your hair, petting at the parts of your hips that he gripped too tightly and rubbing his hands up and down your back to soothe you as you hiccup against him, your tears soaking into his skin. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Mingyu asks, his concern clear. 

“I want it to be real so bad and I love you so much, that’s all,” you sniffle, your tears drying surprisingly quickly and your hands rising to wipe your face before he can. You smile brightly at him, then point over his shoulder, “Look, we literally made love till the morning light.”

Mingyu twists his head around, chuckling as he sees what you’re referring to. The colors of the sunrise seep into the cream canvas of the tent, giving your white shift and the blankets a dreamy glow. Love fills his chest and he can’t resist the urge to pull you down into a kiss, his lips soft against yours. 

His cock is softening too, and this time he can’t stay inside. He wraps his arms around your back and slowly rolls over so he’s above you before carefully pulling out. He doesn’t bother plugging you up, knows he’s filled you more than enough tonight, and dampens one more cloth to cleanse your skin of the evidence of the past few hours so you can enter the day brand new. 

“I love you,” Mingyu reminds you, discarding the cloth in the same corner as the old duvet and meeting your eyes once more. 

“I love you,” you respond, reaching your arms out to him and tugging him down into a hug. 

“I’ve gotta get to fishing and the laundry,” he breathes into your neck, “But you should rest.”

He grins as you pout but acquiesce, loosening your hold on his shoulders and playfully feeling up his bicep before letting him go altogether and snuggling back into the fresh blankets he’d covered you with. 

“Wear your hat,” you caution him sweetly, not wanting his eyes to get too tired with the light or for his skin to get sunburned. 

“‘Course, darlin’,” Mingyu beams, pulling on his clothes and lacing up his boots before leaning down for one last kiss. He ducks out of the tent, his height making this difficult, and pokes an arm back in, feeling around blindly for the hat, which somehow makes its way into his hand. 

Mingyu grins a little grin, feeling his canines press into his kiss-swollen bottom lip, and puts it on his head, his boots quiet as can be on the riverbank as he sets up his fishing gear. 

His wife needs some sleep, after all. 

AN: okayyyy i wanted to wait to post this until the anniversary of the first part but i figured i’ve taken long enough already! if you enjoy, pls reblog or comment with your thoughts and feelings!

JK ABOUT 3/3 ITS 3/4 HERES PART 4

My Masterlist

[honeydew-mel0n]

in the mood for angst so spardads reunite with their kid who went missing?

I’ve never been the best at angst, and I don’t think this counts, but it’s close enough. Also, characters might be a little OOC, it’s been a little while since i’ve sat down to write- forgive me.

⚠️TW⚠️- discussions of running away.

Spardads Reuniting with Their Missing Kids

Dante

He’d never thought he’d see you again, alive at least. Years of seemingly endless searching, dead ends, clumps of his own hair pulled out, night’s spent grieving on your bedroom floor, and the constant and overwhelming feeling of failure. He was not prideful in that failure was his biggest fear overall, no, but the guilt in failing his kid. The one thing he promised to love, nurture, and protect- even if it killed him. Five years ago you suddenly vanished into thin air, and now here you are on his doorstep. The very doorstep you disappeared off of.

You looked good. You were clean, healthy, in nice clothes, your hair was shorter, and you looked happy- excited even. You were finally here, finally home… But all Dante could do was stare down at you, eyes wide and blinking slowly as he tried to process that the vision in front of him was real. To finally let himself rest, to let himself give up, he had to convince himself you were gone for good. That you were dead and he wasn’t there to protect you. A grim belief to live by, but somehow he’d conceptualized that it was better than working himself to death to find bones that didn’t want to be found. But you were alive, and the part of him that was slowly getting a grip on that wanted to be happy about it. You just…

Before him now, you look so much like he did at your age, just so much happier.

Quickly he snaps out of his trance, leaning against the door with a light chortle. “Well hello to you too. Where the hell have you been, kid?” Your wide smile softened, your gaze did too. Going from just excitement, to being happy to see him. You rushed forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him and burying your face into his shoulder. He was tense beyond belief and didn’t hug you back, his hand came to rest in between your shoulder blades.

-

You run your hand over the arm of the couch, the feel of the smooth leather bringing a warm feeling to your chest as child memories flood back to you. You couldn’t begin to count how many times growing up that you passed out against it and had to peel your face from the leather after hours. Letting out a soft chuckle as your dad joins you on the other side of the couch. Sinking into the plush cushions and letting out a typical dad groan as he does so, a glass of whiskey in his hand. When you saw it, you couldn’t help but press your lips flat in displeasure.

Growing up, he avoided drinking around you. Even with the ability to not get drunk, he knew it was still not good to do so. He was already a walking bad influence of a father, he really didn’t need to make it any worse. But, you’re an adult now, so drinking around you isn’t really all that big of a deal, but it upsets you in a pitiful and juvenile kind of way. Sucking it up, you look around and wait for him to say anything. Everything is so much more messy, weapons, clothes, and trash littering the ground. Maybe he only kept the place clean for you, and as you got older you just helped clean. He wouldn’t have had a reason to clean if you were gone.

Dante clears his throat to get your attention, which works, snapping you out of your thoughts. He stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to spill it. Your fingers tap idly at the arm of the couch as you peel the skin from your lower lip with your teeth. “I- …It wasn’t because of you, Dad, I promise.” You say in a firm tone. “I know that’s probably what you think, that you did something wrong and that you somehow had something to do with it- but you didn’t. Not really, and I’m sorry.” You turn a bit, jamming your back in between the back and the arm of the couch to face him. He gives you a nod as a go ahead, and you give him one back.

You spilled everything. That you had run away because you wanted to piss him off and get attention, you wanted to rebel just like your friends were. How you’d thought he would find you- but he didn’t, so you kept going. Kept moving.

“I realized I had fucked up around two months out, when I had to sleep at a bus stop in the rain. There was a payphone attached to it and I- I wanted to call you.” Your voice was wispy and breathy, and the knot in your throat became obvious to him too. His fingers tap against his glass quickly, watching the alcohol in his glass ripple. “Not that I wanted you to come and fix my mistakes… I just wanted my dad. Of course I didn’t… I didn’t think you would want me back.” He looks up from his drink at you. Your eyes were cast at the ground, lips pressed flat as you gripped your own arms tightly.

“I thought you hated me.”

Dante’s eyes drift back down to his drink, watching the ripples fade out into a smooth surface. It was quiet, sickeningly so. He didn’t know what to say, he knew that you were deeply upset and remorseful, but what does he say in this situation? A feeling twists in your chest, he was deeply upset with you and you knew that. He nods, trying his best to force a fake smile- but he can’t. Lips twitching as he struggled, a chortle leaving him in a breathy manor. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t… I don’t hate you.” But he is so fucking mad at you. You know that, he knows that. He wishes he wasn’t so angry. Unable to force out anything other than the choked and exasperated beginnings of words. He couldn’t defend your actions or speak any ounce of forgiveness, no matter how much he wanted to.

There was an aura that permeated throughout the room, a thick and heavy feeling of grief and unwelcomeness. Like the heavy smoke of a raging forest fire, sticking in your throat so heavily you felt as though it would make you cough up your lungs. To Dante it felt as though the feeling was coming from his chest, the aching heart behind his breast pumping out the noxious feeling of affliction. It was something that was so natural for him, before and after your place in his life. As you grew he tried his hardest to keep himself from falling back into his perpetual pity party, but that wasn’t a privilege he had the energy to give you anymore. Your eyes fell shut for a second, taking in a deep breath to calm yourself as you felt the knot in your throat rise. The urge to sob being forced down enough to stay courteous. Rising from your seat on the couch, you pull a slip of folded yellow paper from your pocket and hand it to him.Taking it, your father shoots you a questioning glance. “Just in case you wanted to contact me.” You say in a light voice, trying to hide the torrent of emotions you were holding back.

“If not, that’s okay too. You can just throw it away.”

That's the last thing you said to him before you left again. Dante put the sticky note on the base of his phone, a bright yellow flare as a reminder of your presence. Of what you had told him. Had he done something that made you want to rebel against him? That made you want to upset him by running away? He knows what you said, swearing up and down that he hadn’t- but how could he believe that? His kid had just shown back up one day- after five years- and told him that they wanted to upset him by running away and expected forgiveness? His kid, his baby.

Eyes were caught on the yellow slip of paper for so long every day that the black outline of your number burned into his retnus. There was the feeling in his throat, like something had a tight grip on it. Preventing him from taking a proper breath. It wasn’t just anger he felt now, but a deep remorse for himself. For what he lost, for you. The father in him wanted to hold you accountable for your actions, allow you to sit and think about what you’d done. But your dad… your dad wants to work through this, to not hurt anymore or hurt you.

“God damn it.”

Vergil

Truth be told, he hadn’t a clue what to do when you disappeared. It was well obvious you had run off, having been mere hours after an argument between the two of you with all of your weapons and battle gear gone. At first he was angry and confused, out of his two children you were the least likely in his mind to react in such a brash manner. You're the youngest, his golden child. Every problem you had with each other was usually worked through quickly. Vergil wanted to find you, hunt you down, bring you home, and send you through the most rigorous training of your life as punishment- but he didn’t. He remembered his younger self, running around fighting anyone and everything, in a desperate attempt to prove something to himself- to anyone watching.

You are so much smarter than he was, and have had so much more than he ever did. A better head on your shoulders than he’s ever had. So he didn’t look for you, not really. When he had to leave, of course he kept an eye out for any sign of you. Vergil knows better than anyone what you’re trying to prove to him, to yourself, he thought better than to distract you. You’d come back when you know the time is right... He was so sure of that.

It had been raining heavily that entire day, flood warnings on every channel of the radio and television. He rarely ever used either by his own will, instead only being subjected to your taste in shows and his brother's taste in music- both of which he found mind numbing, but he only ever complained about his brother’s side of it. He hates seeing the way your face falls when you had once been so excited to show him something you enjoyed, only for him to accidentally crush that excitement with his grating nature. Vergil was a man who preferred a calm environment in the domestic part of his life, but he’d come to miss the faint sound of you living in the other room. The sound of the shower, your music, laughing while calling your friends or your brother. So, the radio was on, playing some classical music station so he didn’t have to deal with the monotonous lyrics about love and parting from muscitions too young to even fully understand what they were singing about. The only light on in the living room was the table lamp he used to illuminate the pages his eyes were caught on.

The front door opens with a harsh slam as the sound of the downpour fills the space. He wastes no time getting to his feet and adjacent to the doorway. It was a sight he’d never forget. Your form slumped against the door frame, your weapon in hand clattering to the ground followed by your set of keys. The smell of wet unwashed hair, and putrid mix of human and demon blood permeated through the room. Your body pushed itself from the frame, taking a few weak steps forward before collapsing. Before your head could collide with the hard wood of the floor, he is between you. Your head landing heavily on his shoulder as you slip from consciousness. When he looks down, you are the most exhausted and beat up he’s ever seen you. You’re filthy and the rain is obviously the closest thing you’ve had to a shower since you left.

His poor, poor child.

He’d taken you to your bed after getting you out of your filthy, drenched clothes. Putting everything you had managed to bring back with you, away. You didn’t wake up for a while after that, stuck in a perpetual slumber as everyone hesitantly waited for you to awake. Nero and Kyrie dropped by frequently, despite Vergil and his strained relationship. The two somehow managed to keep it civil for the two innocent parties present, only speaking to discuss your condition before he went in to see you. The young man had been so angry at his father when he found out he didn’t search for you. Your older brother would sit at the edge of your bed, and gently hold your hand as he spoke to your unconscious form, Kyrie beside him in support. She’d often leave food and baked goods for him and you for once you woke up- but this time she’d left a bouquet of your favorite flowers on the nightstand.

The flowers added a colorful brightness to the room, even long after the couple had left. Leaving Vergil to sit with you in silence, which was a nightly occurrence now anyways. He’d sit with you for hours after the sun had set, reading, writing, stitching up holes in his or your clothing. The last one was something he’d only taken up once you had gone. You had a fixation for hand stitching the holes in your own clothes. Eventually he gave in, letting you sew up and patch his clothing as well. It was resourceful and cut down in expenses- after all, a spool of thread and a few needles costs a lot less than replacing entire outfits. Tonight though, he had nothing. Not even he knows how that happened. There is only you, him, and his thoughts.

You looked peaceful. Truth be told, this was probably the first time you’d slept in weeks. Making up for that time by sleeping for weeks. At least you didn’t look as terrible as you did when you first got here, but that didn’t mean much. There was a feeling in his chest, stinging his lungs and heart as it beat. Worming its way from the darkest parts of his soul and mind, like the roots and branches of weeds. They bloom in his chest, pushing through his rips and constricting his lungs. He had tried to ignore it these past few weeks, to focus on you and literally anything else, but you can only ignore weeds for so long …Was this his fault? It had to be. A thick lump forms in his throat as he shifts in his chair, resting his jaw in his hand as his eyes hold on you. Shifting your head and letting out a dry groan.

If there is one thing in the world that Vergil hates the most, it’s admitting when he’s wrong and someone else was right. He hates having to admit that he made the wrong decision, but right now there was no way he could deny it. He had made the wrong choice, and you paid for it.

His hand takes yours that had been resting over the fold of your duvet, the sound of rain softly pattering on the pains of the window. Your skin was cold under his for a moment before both of your warmths melded together. You were strong, an intelligent fighter, quick to pick up skills… But you were also stubborn, pushing yourself to be better even when the goal was impossible for you at that moment, and you doubted the strength you had. An ever burning fear within you that you would never be as strong as him, that you would bring shame to his name. You were much like him, too much like him. The fight you had the night you left, it was over your strength and ability. Vergil hadn’t thought he said anything too harsh, but maybe he had- if it had been so harsh as to spark the thoughts to leave in your youthfully ignorant thoughts.

His grip on your hand tightens protectively. Nero was right, he should have gone out after you. He could have prevented this. When Vergil looks at you and your brother, he sees parts of himself, as he should, but this… Was he so overly confident in himself that he allowed you to be hurt? It was late, and even he needed rest eventually. This was about the time every night that he’d head off to bed. With a deep breath, the tightness of his grip releases but your hand does not. Your hand held a tight enough grip on his hand, enough to make his lips twitch into a smile. Maybe he’ll stay with you just a little longer.

Nero

Nero had been so certain that you were ready to join him in the field, kicking demon ass was in your blood and you had already proven to have an affinity for it. You had been so excited to get out into the action, and that's what made him feel so confident in taking you out with him. That you were confident in your ability. To be fair, you had also impressed the hell out of him for 90% of it. Doing so well it didn’t even seem like you needed him to be with you, except where the other 10% of the job came in.

The nest he had been called to take out was reported to be a small one, infesting the remnants of a defunct hotel-resort thing in the middle of nowhere. One of those places that used to attract tourists in the 80’s but became a hotspot for “Urban Explorers” in recent years. That's what they fed on, the 20-somethings with cheap go-pro cameras and a need for attention and internet fame.

Someone had bought the place to try and revamp it and bring it back to its glory days and barely escaped with their life before coming to him for help. That’s why he brought you with him, it was something small for your first time on the job. Something you could both easily handle without him having to watch you like a hawk. It had been that way, until parts of the floors began to collapse and the ground floor split open. Nero plumited 6 floors into the basement level while you remained to take on the rest of the hoard by yourself. From what he could tell, you handled them just fine- finding your stuff scattered on the 4th floor. It was obvious you had been intercepted trying to look for him, but whatever had taken you, it had taken you with enough force for you to be stripped of all your weapons.

The next three months he spent trying to find you by any means possible. Everyone around him tried to be supportive, but it didn’t do much to help his guilt or sense of urgency. He tore through nest after nest, following any clues given to him about where you were or what they were doing with you. When he finally got word from a minion of the creature that took his kid, he didn’t even care to consider that it might be a trap. Just jumping on it. This time, he was able to call up Nico to join him, and fuck, he's glad he did.

The feeling of the van moving was a subtle comfort, yet did nothing to sooth the knot of nerves he had become. He’d thought finding you would fix all of that, but the poor man had assumed that you’d be in better condition. It seemed stupid now, how he’d expected you to be just fine when he found you. You were a firecracker of a kid, you were tough, strong, and as witty as he could be. He guessed that’s why you had been used as a demon core. Nero tries to swallow the cynical thoughts swirling through his head, it was a coping mechanism- he knows that, but he had stayed optimistic until now. He can’t just give into the looming inner darkness now, not when you needed his hope the most.

Swaddled in all the blankets he could find in the van, you were still cold to the touch. You were emaciated and your skin was lacking its undertones- filled with a sickly gray instead. When he had carried you in, Nico asked if you were dead. To be very fair, if it weren't for your faint breathing and the fact he watched you fall out of the demon, he would have assumed you were dead too. That made him sick, a horrible churning in his gut as he soothed down your matted hair. You being wrapped up like this reminded him so much of having to swaddle you when you were first brought home, how little you were, how much you’d cry when he’d put you down for any reason. Knuckles brush gently down the side of your face.

How did you get here? How did you get this big? Has it really been 16 years? His head lowers, forehead pressing gently to yours and he trembles on the floor of the van, breath staggered with tearless and quiet sobs. A pair of eyes flick up to the rear-view mirror as she adjusts it, the picture of her friend sitting on the floor of her van. “Are they gonna be alright?” Nico asks as she returns the mirror to its proper position, her voice had an uncharacteristic softness to it. She definitely knew that now was not the time for her abrasiveness. Nero’s lips press flat, no answer is given. He wants to say that you’ll pull through, that you’re strong enough to pull through… but he just doesn’t know. Lady had pulled through quick enough after she’d been rescued from her energy sucking prison, but she’s a fully grown adult- you’re just a kid.

Your head shifts to the side, causing him to jerk back. You hadn’t moved at all by your own will since he’d found you, so your sudden show of life was a surprise, albeit a welcomed one. You try to swallow down nothing, only getting air as your head rolled to the side facing your father. His chest jumps with shocked and excited breaths, the feelings of deep sorrow being cut through like the flame of a match in the darkness of night. A grunt leaves you as your brows knit, dry and chapped lips spreading into a displeased display. “Eehh… Dad?” Your voice was horse from the dryness of your throat and lack of use, filled with a tired and pained confusion. A triumphant laugh sounds from his chest as his hand soothes your hair over and over. “Dad, Dad I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, I messed it up…” Your eyelids begin to flutter open, head tearing from side to side as you try to lift it.

“Shit, no- Don’t worry about it, just rest.”

[k3rm1e]

cuddling headcanons! ★~(◡﹏◕✿)

this is more of a test thing to see if i like writing this way and if this blog does well

other imagines and headcanons won't include everyone i write unless it is specifically requested and is a prompt i really like

includes: wilbur nihachu karljacobs quackity dream georgenotfound sapnap p!tommyinnnit p!badboyhalo p!skeppy p!eret p!philza p!tubbo p!ranboo

cw: cursing

wilbur:

wilbur is a very cuddle-y guy

to me he seems very soft

i always see people saying he would like spooning, but i disagree

i feel like he would do more of a half-spooning thing with his head on your chest or the other way around

mans would DEFINITELY make you run your fingers through his hair

i feel like he would lay on your chest and just *nuzzle* into the space between your shoulder and neck

anytime you tried to leave him, whether it was because he had to do something or you had to, he would whine. so. fucking. much.

It would probably always go something like:

you - i need to piss

wilbur - no <3

but the moment he decides its time to stop cuddling its fine

and if you complain that you’re gonna miss him he’ll just call you clingy and tease you

like??? sir???

all in good fun though, no bad intentions :)

nihachu:

i feel like you and niki would face each other

with your head like under her chin and in her chest (this is a bad description but look at the “honeymoon hug” on the list for better explanation ;-;)

she would always want to protect you

so she does that by like almost guarding you and keeping you close

niki would definitely do the arm thing where she just lightly moves her hand up and down you arm

i’m so sorry if you don't understand that, it just feels like something she would do

if you haven't experienced that it kinda sorta feels like spiders??? but in a good way???

but generally she is very protective

she just holds you so close the whole time

even if she doesn’t want to let you go, she’s more understanding about it

she would be upset but wouldn’t show it because she doesn’t want to make you feel guilty

niki is generally just an amazing cuddle-r (is that a word?) and has a super comforting presence

karljacobs:

karl would definitely keep your head on his chest

the whole time he would just absolutely squeeze the life out of you

he would constantly bend his neck down to kiss your head

and instead of just like leaving his head down so he could kiss you it would just be:

*inner monologue karl* hmmm i wanna kiss them on their head

and he would lean down to do so which, cute

but then five seconds later he would do it again

and again another five seconds later

and again

very cute karl but please sir, your neck is gonna be so messed up after this

when you had to leave he would be upset, but like niki, would try not to show it

except karl is very bad at that and his pouting would be so obvious

so you would feel guilty and layback down with him

immediately he just becomes (●´ω｀●)

like a happy little puppy

karl is just too adorable for you to deny

quackity:

now we all know this, quackity is a huge dork

which is why i believe he would DEFINITELY use your butt as a pillow

not even in a weird way

i just feel like quackity isn’t too comfortable with touch so this is sorta his way of being close to you without it being a whole serious thing

like he still is able to be goofy and comfortable without it being a whole big thing

him doing this would almost always come with a flatty patty joke from you

which always causes him to threaten divorce, even though you aren’t married

while it isn’t a very good position for things like physical touch, it is good for talking and having conversations

for some reason i feel like he’s the type of person to text someone when they’re right next to each other

so while he’s laying down he’ll just send you random photos of himself

very annoying when your phone is spammed, but also good blackmail material >:)

i don’t think he’d be too clingy

obviously, he enjoys spending time with you

but if you told him you need to go do work or something he wouldn’t throw a fit or pout

big q just seems like he’d be more rational about stuff like that

overall a 420/69 cuddle partner

dream:

one word: spooning

mans just envelops you and has no shame

very big: “no you are mine! >:(“ energy

while he’s sleeping he’ll unconsciously nuzzle his head into your hair/the back of your neck

when you guys got to bed patches usually climbs in and you hold her

i love patches so much i could write headcanons just about her

dream always wants to be cuddling you

if you try to leave he won’t pout, there simply isn't a discussion on whether you’re moving or not

incase you haven’t caught on yet, the answer is no

you need to do work? just bring the laptop to bed

he needs to edit? just sit in his lap at his desk, duh

obviously, he knows at some point you guys need to stop cuddling

he just isn’t too stoked about it

when it comes time where he absolutely can’t cuddle with you, i feel like he’d be more chill

mainly just annoyed

georgenotfound:

i feel like george, like quackity, also wouldn’t be too touchy

i’m pretty sure he has a hard time expressing emotions (please correct me if i’m wrong!!) and i think that would crossover to his sleeping habits

i think he would prefer a sort of back-to-back cuddling position

it seems cold, i know

but also he would most definitely kick at you

so every night while trying to go to sleep suddenly you would just feel *kick*

and then instead of sleep you’re suddenly playing footsie

lots of laughter and warm feelings involved

george would probably pretend that you kicked his leg hard or something and act like you hurt him

the first few times you were actually worried

but then after a few months your only response was a sarcastic “cry about it”

which just led to more laughter

sapnap:

sapnap and you would do a sort of leg hug thing

you both you try to go to sleep in a cute spooning-type position

but the moment one of you fell asleep it all unraveled

you would wake up apart but you’re legs would still be touching

sapnap would joking blame it on you

“wow can’t believe you don't wanna be close with me even when we’re asleep”

“it’s not my fault! i can’t control where i end up when i sleep!”

“no, no. you don’t have to lie. i see how it is.”

“>:(“

but it's okay!

your legs are the first thing to react in a flight-or-fight situation, so they usually react in an honest way

which is like your legs are both reaching to hold each other!

p!tommyinnit:

i don’t get a very touchy vibe from tommy

i feel like the most he would do is put his arm over your shoulder

not in a flirty way, just in a “hey, there isn’t a lot of space, this will make sitting down more comfortable” way

he will let you sorta fidget with his hand/arm

i don't know if that makes sense but what i mean is that he’ll pretty much let his arm go *flop* so you can control it (by like moving it around or playing with his fingers)

in the beginning he would get annoyed

but eventually he would get used to it and wouldn’t really care

it sounds a bit strange but i personally find it very comforting to just have something to fidget with while watching youtube or netflix in bed with my friends

and it’s entertaining (sometimes i do this to me sister to annoy her :>)

he would act like he didn’t mind if you left him

but holy shit he is so clingy

If you try to leave it’ll just be “no, why??? stay here dumbass”

you would be slightly annoyed when he had to leave  but knew he had to film and stream and all that so you would be okay

p!badboyhalo:

you would kinda sit within bad’s lap

like not on his lap, but more of in between his legs

he would have his arms around you

and his phone would be in front of you so you two could scroll through twt or instagram together

or you guys could watch skeppy’s youtube ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

rat would sit in your lap

she’s just;;;;;;;; so adorable

rat is just so soft and fuzzy in your lap and everytime you move to pet her she just melts

rat is the the superior cuddle buddy to any of these block people

p!skeppy:

skeppy, similar to quackity, is a total dork

he would make sure you guys were in a position where he could effectively troll you

so if your head was near his lap he would just flick you or some

“dude can you please stop hitting me in the head”

“it turns out i am not actually hitting you in your head because based on the perpendicularity of the bisector multiplied by the photosynthesis of the dividend, it is impossible for me to do so”

“wtf”

lya is so goddamn sick of you guys

she's trying to get him to actually do something but instead he’s just sitting there throwing paper airplanes at you while you sleep

he’s an annoying asshole but it's okay because he gives you money for absurd reasons

p!eret:

eret has such a comfortable presence

i feel like she wouldn’t be up for cuddling too much

more of like putting your head on a friends shoulder so you can see the tweet their showing you

but they do like to hold hands

holding hands isn’t very intimate but it's also just such a sweet comforting thing

she even holds your hand when you guys are out walking around

like if you guys were getting food somewhere (post-covid of course)

you most likely would get addressed as a couple

and he would just be like”...wut?”

it’s happened so many times at this point you just go along with it

“you guys look like such a cute couple!”

“oh we aren't-” “thank you!”

can you tell that i love eret?

p!philza:

phil always has such dad vibes

i feel like the closest he would get to cuddling is hugs and hand holding

even though cuddling isn’t inherently romantic, he is married to kristen

so i fell he would get most of his touch in with her

but with you he’s just so fatherly

hello dadza

whether you have a good or bad relationship with your father, everyone can admit that philza minecraft is dadza

this is such a dad thing, but tries to hold you hand when you cross the street

no matter the age, he just feels the need to protect you

hugs are similar

uses hugs as a way to comfort you and protect you

just so amazing all around

p!tubbo:

tubbo would love cuddling in any way, shape, or form

if you guys are hanging out at like the park or something and lying down

get ready to become this mans pillow

this is really fun to do with your friends but imagine you guys are hanging out in a field type area (with my friends we hand out in the field next to the cemetery but it can be any open grass area)

tubbo would just use your lap as a pillow the whole time

and when you guys were walking back to his house he would sorta drape his arms over your shoulders (assuming he’s taller than you)

he would do the same thing when you guys were sitting in chairs or at a desk

just drapes his arms over your shoulder with his chin on your head

if it's really late and he's tired he’ll just hug you

p!ranboo:

if you thought tubbo is bad, ranboo is even worse

not even really cuddling, he just likes having a sort of skin-to-skin contact

so handholding and laying on top of eachother

if he’s streaming he will legitimately message ou to just sit next to him

so sometimes if he’s just chilling by himself on the smp you’ll end up on his streams

he’ll have you next to him just because he likes be near someone

and so randomly it’ll just be like “chat, a real human is here, behave”

chat does not behave

(they heavily bully him)

he’s pretty clingy but when you HAVE to leave he’ll understand and just be a bit bummed out

holy shit this took me so long-

if you read this whole thing thank you!

[buckyodinson]

Warmth

Helmut Zemo x F!Reader

Summary: you’re cold and Zemo offers you his coat

Word Count: 1k~

Warnings: minor tfatws spoilers ep3 (edit: now this is a series, I will add a warning for eventual smut)

A/N: look I’m confused too 😂 but I’ve found myself a tad obsessed with Zemo the last couple of weeks, and this just kinda happened. I don’t know if there’ll be a big audience for this, but if anyone has any Zemo requests, send them on in and I’d be excited to give them a go! Also, since Sokovian isn’t a real language, I went with a tiny bit of google translated Latvian as a substitute!

Edit: the response to this was pretty big (THANK YOU!), so I’ve turned this into a series! You can find the next part here!

Sam and Bucky had asked you to keep an eye on Zemo while they went back inside to grab some weapons before you guys left for the docks. You were missing the warmth of the party now you were outside. The night air was biting at your skin as you stood outside Sharon’s place. The skimpy dress she’d told you to wear to fit in with the crowd was fine while you were inside, but now you were out in the night, it wasn’t so great.

You tried to muscle through it, but the occasional shiver wracked through your body, prompting you to quietly hiss at the cold.

Evidently, Zemo noticed.

“Would you like my coat?” He offered, starting to shrug the coat off his shoulders

“No, thank you, Zemo.” You shook your head and held a hand up before crossing it over your chest in an attempt to conserve some warmth.

“Please, call me Helmut.” He drawled, and you looked at him in disbelief for a split second before composing yourself.

“I think I’ll stick with Zemo.” You pursed your lips and looked away.

You were having some conflicted feelings about Zemo recently. As far as you were concerned, he was a bit of an asshole. After all, this was the same man who tore your friends apart only a few years back.

But here he was, flying you guys around in a private jet, acting like you’re all best friends. He’d taken a particular liking to you, which concerned but intrigued you at the same time.

You didn’t want to admit to yourself that you were falling for him. Jesus, the awful things he put your friends through should be enough to turn you off him completely. And yet...

For starters, he was an attractive guy. You couldn’t deny that. You’d caught yourself staring at his hair several times. You wanted to run your fingers through it, tug on it... something. And the little bit of scruff he had been sporting too? You’d thought about that a bit too much.

And his accent... it had an effect on you, for sure. He could read a phone directory to you and you’d probably hang onto every number. You especially liked when he spoke Sokovian. You had no idea what he ever said, but you had noticed he’d use the occasional word when talking to you, or referring to you to someone else. You’d have to ask him about those at some point.

And for a dangerous criminal, he sure danced like a dork at Sharon’s place. You watched him from the bar as he was seemingly in a world of his own on the dance floor. At one point he caught your attention and beckoned you to join him, but you simply raised your glass at him and stayed put, smirking as he carried on.

While you were lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice Zemo shuck off his coat, and the next thing you knew, you felt the soft fur of the collar around your neck. You desperately wanted to protest but the coat was so warm, both in itself and because Zemo had been wearing it just moments before. The smell of his cologne lingered in it too, and you tried your best to ignore it.

“...thank you.” You murmur as you slip your arms into the sleeves and wrap the coat around you properly.

“It is my pleasure, mīļā.” He flashes a smile at you and you turn away, hoping he doesn’t catch your shy smile and the blush creeping up your face.

When Sam and Bucky finally return, they both narrow their eyes at Zemo when they see you’re wearing his coat.

“The lady was cold, I did what any gentleman would do.” He smirked as you all started walking down the street.

“Gentleman... sure.” Sam didn’t look convinced, and you chuckled at the look he gave Zemo.

You walked down the street and Sharon pulled up in a car, gesturing for you all to get in. Sam was closest to the passenger door so he just got in the front of the car, leaving you to squeeze in the back with Bucky and Zemo.

You rolled your eyes at the way Zemo’s face brightened up at the prospect of being so close to you in the car, but you found yourself hiding a small smile too. You edged yourself a little closer to Bucky though, and once he realised how close you and Zemo were, he shuffled himself as close to his door as he could, giving you some room to move.

The journey to the docks took a fair while, but it dragged on tortuously with Zemo sat so close to you. You started to get hot in his coat quite quickly, but there was no room to move in the car for you to take it off, so you just had to stay in it. You weren’t complaining too much though, because you were still quite enjoying the comfort of the coat.

When you arrived at the docks, Zemo hopped out of the car quickly, turning around to offer you his hand, and as much as you didn’t want to accept it, you didn’t want to trip over in your heels so you took his hand and let him help you out of the car.

“Thank you, Helmut.” Your eyes widened as his first name escaped your mouth, and he smirked in response. You felt your cheeks heat up, and you were just glad the others seemingly didn’t notice your slip up.

“You’re more than welcome, mana mīlestība.” He shut the car door with one hand, but kept a hold of you with his other hand, and it took you a second to realise and let go.

A deep chuckle rose from his throat and he winked before walking to catch up with the others. You took a deep breath and followed everyone, cursing yourself for letting Hel- Zemo get under your skin.

What was wrong with you? Where did these feelings come from? What were you going to do about them?

You’d have to worry about that later though, because shit hit the fan at the docks very quickly...

~

mīļā - sweetheart

mana mīlestība - my love

If anybody has any Zemo fic ideas, I’m all ears!

[weatheredleatherhat]

Could I request a Heis x Reader where the Reader’s like a takes-no-bullshit, badass and outspoken person and Heiseberg has heart eyes for someone for the first time ever. He constantly tries to get their attention and loves that they play hard to get. Maybe it turns into some rough! smut if you’re comfy with it?

((Honestly I love the thought of Heis getting whipped by someone even mouthier than him. Here you go!! I went a lil ham, and basically made it smut with a sorta plot if you squint. Also added a bit of fluff at the end, because Karl and Reader deserve nice things. Hope you like it!!))

Content warnings: Smut, rough sex, reader has a vagina, unprotected sex (use a condom kids!), fingering, fluff at the end

18+ MINORS DNI

“KARL HEISENBERG!!”

Ah, shit.

For a second, he was tempted to make a break for it, hide himself somewhere that you couldn’t find him. Whenever you called him by his full name, it probably meant you considered him to be in deep shit. To be honest, he’d first kept you around as nothing more than a novelty; he enjoyed the fact that you refused to bow down and kiss his ass like so many others would. You’d yell at him like he wasn’t able to snap your spine in half, and you weren’t afraid to speak your mind whenever he did something that displeased you. But most of all, you laughed and joked with him. Treated him like he was just a normal human being, not some monster he was used to thinking himself as all these years. Your smile could light up a room, and he found himself wanting to hear your laugh so badly he’d go out of his way to get you to do it.

Then again, he also quickly remembered this was his own damn factory, and he wasn’t gonna hide from shit.

The door to his workshop slammed open, and if looks could kill he would have been struck down on the spot. In your hands were what looked to be the remnants of a radio, wires spilling out of the body like guts. Leaning back in his chair as he puffed on the cigar in his mouth, a wide grin spread across his face as if nothing was wrong. He looked smug as he always off, hat placed on the table and cigar in his mouth. “Buttercup!”

“Don’t you fucking ‘Buttercup’ me, you son of a bitch,” you snarled, stomping over to his desk and slamming the radio down on his table, crumpling the blueprints underneath. You heard him swore in protest, but you ignored it. “This was my goddamn radio, and yet you decided you needed a receiver and just took it apart?!”

He frowned at you, shrugging as he looked down at the remains of the machinery. “I couldn’t be bothered to find one through the damn scrap pile.”

Your fury seemed to increase tenfold as you rubbed a hand over your face. You started laughing, but there was barely any humour in it. He knew his response had struck a nerve, and he was in even deeper shit. Then again, you were kinda hot when you were enraged.

A finger was pointed at him as you jabbed it towards his chest. “You’re either fixing it, or finding me a new radio.”

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow towards you. “Or what?”

“Or that,” you gestured your head towards the radio, “is going over your fucking head.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, calmly stubbing out his cigar in the ashtray before standing to his full height. He took careful strides towards you, his face unreadable, though a spark of savage want flickered in his eyes. You stood your ground, arms crossed as you craned your neck up to look at him, your jaw squared and posture strong. “You really think it’s wise to threaten me, doll?” he asked, voice low with a gravelly edge that caused heat to pool in your core. Lifting a hand, his fingers tangled into the ends of your hair, giving a playful tug. He couldn’t help but notice the pink to your cheeks, and he wondered how far he could go with this. “You get a little thrill out of it? That it? You yell at me because you get off on it?”

You rubbed your thighs together as subtly as you could, but he noticed, his grin widening to levels of near lunacy. “I-it’s not like that,” you stammered, dropping the eye contact to look down at the floor. The grip on your hair moved to grab more purchase at the base of your skull, forcing you to look back up at him. He stepped forward, making you move back until your ass hit the edge of a workbench behind you.

“Oh, but I think it is,” he cooed, using his free hand to take off his shades and carefully tossing them to the corner of the bench. Now you could see his rust coloured eyes, vivid in their intensity as they scanned every feature of your face, your breath caught in your throat as he lowered his face towards you. You could feel his breath fanning over your face, and could smell the tobacco and whiskey he liked to indulge in. It was a heady scent, and you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity if you weren’t careful. “If I were a betting man, I would wager you’d want me to punish you a little for that filthy mouth of yours.”

Your mind whirred at what he meant by punishment. It’s not like you hadn’t thought of it before, when you were alone and needy for release in your quarters. Him taking you roughly from behind while you were bent over the nearest surface, smacking your ass hard while he pulled your hair for leverage. A hand around your throat, squeezing lightly while he watched your eyes roll back in their sockets as he fucked you hard into his bed. You realised you’d lost a few second at all the possibilities when he was staring at you with amusement, head tilted as his eyes raked over your body. Your mouth opened, but closed quickly as the words escaped you. As per usual, he decided to fill the silence for you. “Went a little quiet there sweetheart,” he murmured mere inches from your lips. “Wondered what your filthy little mind was thinking, hm?”

This was the closest he had got when it come to rattling you, and he found it addictive. Sure, he had tried the usual routes of shameless flirting and playfully smacking your ass when you were comfortable with it, but you’d rebuffed each and every advance with a little quip of your own. But he had always seen that glint in your eye when he was flirty, how a little colour came to your cheeks that you tried to desperately hide. Truthfully, you were beginning to become something of an addiction to him that he just couldn’t quit. Didn’t want to quit.

“Maybe I wasn’t thinking of anything,” you mumbled, hating how small you sounded. It wasn’t the best comeback, but it was all you could think of.

“Sure you weren’t,” he scoffed, letting go of you for only a moment before he gripped your waist and all but threw you on top of the workbench. Your little squeal of surprise fuelled him, and the way your eyes widened with lust blown pupils at the show of strength caused his erection to strain painfully in his trousers. He slotted himself between your parted legs, hands gripping your waist as he rolled his hips against your core. Your eyelids fluttered, hands flying up to the lapel of his jacket for support. He ducked his head down so his lips grazed your own, desperate to kiss you but not wanting to cross a line you didn’t want to. “You don’t have to do this with me sweetheart,” he said, barely above a whisper. Dear God, he desperately begged to whoever was upstairs that he read the room right, and you were as desperate for him as he was for you. “If you wanna stop, no hard feelings.”

The thought of this moment ending caused a whine to catch in your throat, threatening to overspill any second. You’d fantasised of this for so long, and you were desperate to find out if it would match your expectations. You were the first to initiate, giving your consent wholly as lips crashed against his. It took him a moment for him to return it, but when he did it was overwhelming. The kiss was full of desperate frensy; all teeth and tongue, his hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure they would bruise. You returned it with vigour, breathing small moans into his mouth that he growled in lust whenever he received. You pushed off his jacket, and his hands were only off you long enough to let it fall to the ground. They found the straps of your overalls, pushing them off in a frantic need and letting them fall to your waist. You felt him grip the front of your shirt, and with one strong tug it was torn to shreds. You let out a breathy sigh as that fire in your stomach was fuelled by the action. You could be mad at him for fucking up what little clothes you had later. Right now, it was hot as fuck.

“Fuck, Karl,” you breathed into his skin as you kissed the junction between his neck and shoulder, feeling his grip on the waistband of your overalls as he tried to pull them off. Ever since you found out his first name, you barely used it. He was always Heisenberg, Heis, or some form of creative insult. It didn’t escape your notice that when you used his first name, his need for you somehow grew even more than it already was, became frantic to see you naked. As you toed off your boots, he took the time to pull off his shirt and tank top, leaving him topless and leaving you panting at the sight.

He was back all over you, tugging off your overalls and panties in one movement. Your arms wrapped tight around his neck as you felt his fingers at your core, swiping up your slit in a movement that made your legs quiver. “So fucking wet,” he growled, diving back in for another intense kiss as his finger sunk into you. He pumped into you and tested which angle, which curl of his finger made you moan the loudest into his mouth in a way that made his cock strain at the sound of it. Another finger was added, his thumb circling around your clit in time with his movements, and your head fell back with jaw lax as your eyes rolled backwards. He dove to attack your neck with his mouth, teeth clamping down on the soft flesh as his tongue teased, adding to your pleasure. If he kept this up, you were going to lose it, the tension deep in your stomach threatening to snap. “Fuck me already,” you pleaded, an edge of feral need in your voice.

He huffed out a laugh as he felt your hands trail quickly down his chest, moving to fumble with his belts. “So fucking needy, aren’t you?” he murmured against your neck, though he found himself getting impatient too. A low growl escaped him as you finally freed his cock, wrapping your hand around it with widened eyes as you stroked it. You always wondered if he was big, but you never expected it to be like this. The length was a little above average, but he made up with it in thickness, the girth making you swipe a tongue over your lip in need. In the back of your mind, you wondered if you needed more prep, but that logical thought was blown away by feral lust. You could deal with the ache later; for now you needed him.

You pulled him towards you with your heels dug into his thighs, but he held fast, holding your chin tightly in one hand while the other gripped his dick and teased your entrance with it in a way that made you whine. “Beg me for it,” he growled, pressing lightly into you. “I wanna hear it.”

“Fuck, please, don’t you dare fucking tease me,” you snarled, pressing yourself forward as much as you could without falling off the table. When he quirked an eyebrow, you knew for a fact he’d leave you here needy when he pulled away, teasing you for as long as you could hold out for if it meant getting his way. The dam broke; fuck, you needed him, and you couldn’t stop the words tumbling from your mouth. “Karl, please, I need you,” you whined, looking up at him through your lashes. “Please, fuck me.”

The grip on your chin loosened and fell away, the arm wrapping around your waist as he pressed his length into you, going as fast as he could without hurting you. Heavy panting from the both of you was the only thing that could be heard over the thrum of the factory. Your brain short-circuited from pleasure; you clung onto him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling, and he held on with just as much intensity. When you finally opened eyes you didn’t realise you closed, he was looking right at you, eyes flickering over your features as if he was watching everything, taping it to memory. You’d never seen him like this. Blissed out with pleasure, yet the intensity still remained. There was something else too, that you couldn’t quite place. A look of… Adoration? Maybe you were just imagining things in a lust filled haze.

You rolled your hips to urge him to move, finding that your mind had too much space to think. You ran your hand through his hair, gripping the back as you bucked against him, matching the intensity as you picked up speed. You heard a sound from somewhere, though you had no idea where it came from, and at that moment you couldn’t give less of a shit. You panted as you kissed him again, slipping your tongue into his mouth, which he devoured eagerly as he pounded into you. All the nerves in your body came alight as you reached your edge, threatening to come apart at the seams if it wasn’t for his strong grip around your waist, anchoring you to the table as objects clattered off the surface from the intensity.

Your soft staccatos of gasps, ending with an intense scream as you tightened intensely around him while you came hard caused him to fall headlong into his own release, gasping for breath as his hips stuttered from how hard he came. “Fuck, Jesus…” He ended his growled words with your name falling from his lips, his head falling to rest on your shoulder as he caught his breath. You were both left in the afterglow, both trying to get your brains into gear again from the fuzziness as you recovered. He slowly slipped out of you, his cum starting to leak onto your thighs as he tucked himself back into his trousers and looked around for a rag you could use. When you looked down, you realised that the sound you heard earlier was Karl’s hand warping and breaking the table with his harsh grip. You forced back a smile at it; at the fact you’d made him lose control with his need for you that much.

You exhaled a forceful sigh, rubbing your face with both palms as you grinned through them. Yeah, this was worth it. And it was ten times better than you thought it would be. He caught your smirk when he turned around, handing you a small piece of clean cloth as he quirked an eyebrow while picking up his clothes. “What’re you smiling about?” his asked, his tone amused. “That good, huh?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, leaning forward to snatch his tank top from him before you pulled it on and cleaned yourself up. He opened his mouth to complain, but there was a glimmer in his eyes that shut him up when he saw you wearing his clothes.

“I’m smiling because I’m assuming you think you’re getting out of getting me a new damn radio,” you answered as you found your panties, pulling them on. He laughed at that, shaking his head as he continued getting dressed, now without undershirt.

“Even fucking your brains out isn’t gonna stop you from being a brat, is it?” he drawled, picking up a cigar from the small box he kept on his desk and lighting it up as he took a few puffs.

You chuckled, stepping over on bare feet to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Absolutely fucking not, and you love it.”

He snorted, but deep down, he knew you were right. He was elated that you still treated him exactly the same, even after your passionate encounter had taken place. In fact, this was probably going to make you even mouthier. But he found himself not minding that one iota.

~

“Oh honeybun!” you heard him boom out in a singsong voice from outside your workshop door, kicking it open for effect though you knew full well he could use his powers or God forbid, use the fucking handle. You barely looked up from the welding project you were working on, waiting until you’d finished with the bond that took most of your attention.

You flipped the visor you wore upwards, looking up to focus on him with narrowed eyes of suspicion. He had something behind his back, but you couldn’t see what. To be honest, you’d got used to working in silence without music the few weeks since the ‘incident’, but you had been fucking pretty much every night since then. That was all worth it, to have him rather than a hunk of junk whose stations you didn’t even particularly like.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working on those reactor cores? I’ve been sweating my ass off getting these leg frames made.” You tried to keep the amusement from your voice, but he probably heard it enough to warrant that laugh he gave in return.

“Almost done doll, I promise. But I thought this would be something better to use my time with. Close your eyes for me.”

You looked puzzled. “Why?”

He sighed in exasperation, tilting his head back in frustration. “For fuck sa- Just trust me, alright?”

You sighed dramatically, making a show of placing your gloved hands over your eyes. You heard him shuffle around your workspace, mumbling something to himself in German like he usually did when he was concentrating. It sounded like he was doing something at your desk, though you weren’t quite sure.

“Alright, you can look now.”

When you let your vision adjust and looked towards him, he held his hand with a flourish towards something new on your desk. It took you a minute to figure out what it was. A large rectangular box, the time of day shown in the middle on a screen. It had buttons on the top of it across the edge, and a strange metal thing that looked like a charging cable sticking out of the middle. Your eyes widened as you realised what exactly you were looking at. “Holy shit,” you breathed as you ripped your welding mask off, setting it down as you joined him at his side. “Is that an iPod dock?!”

He looked a little puzzled as he shrugged. “Iunno. I found it, did some fiddling and found out it plays radio stations sorta decent.” He rubbed the back of his head as a slightly sheepish look crossed his face. “I didn’t forget, you know.”

You squealed as you threw yourself at him to hug him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his. He chuckled, arms encircling your waist as he looked down at you when you pulled away from the kiss. “I take it I did good?”

“You did good,” you echoed, pulling away to look for something in your upper desk drawer. To be honest, you’d completely forgotten about it ages ago. You considered it a remnant of your past; of your old life, and had retired it to live anywhere other than your pockets since you started working at the factory. The old iPod nano, screen slightly smashed and green metal scuffed from your tribulations of surviving your journey into the village was nestled right at the bottom, and you held your breath as you stared at it in your hand. Would it even work? God knows what it went through, but you had to try. It’d lost it’s charge a couple of weeks into you working at the factory, and you’d slightly mourned the loss of listening to it through headphones whenever you could. But now? If this worked, you didn’t have to worry about that.

Karl looked thoroughly engrossed in whatever it was you were doing, as he usually did whenever something new technological wise caught his attention. With a little prayer to the machinery Gods, you fitted the iPod into the dock, holding your breath to see if it would power on. To your surprise (and joy), you saw the darkened screen as the apple logo popped up, and then switched to the main screen.

“What is it?” Karl asked from beside you, but at first you ignored him, looking through the song list. They were all still there. All your favourite tracks, ready to play. You decided on your favourite to listen to first, pressing play and keeping your finger on the volume up button until it filled the room with its melody.

Karl looked fascinated as he listened, his mind figuring out what was happening to the best of my abilities. “Huh. I’ll be damned,” he murmured, tilting his head as he listened to the first few beats. He watched as your hips swayed to the music, and you softly sang along to the lyrics. A grin spread across his face as he leaned against your desk. “You listened to this shit?” Though it was a jab, there was no malice behind it. Just amusement.

“You shut your mouth, this is a classic,” you answered back with a smirk, slotting yourself between his legs and looping your arms around his neck as you swayed. His hands found your waist, and he pulled you in for a soft kiss.

“So, I’m off the hook?” he asked with an amused lilt to his voice.

You nodded. How could he not be? He’d given back something you thought you’d lost, without even realising what he’d done. He’d given you this, but he’d also given you a home. He’d given you protection. And even if you didn’t know it yet, he’d given you his love and adoration.

“Yeah,” you murmured as you kissed him again.

“You’re off the hook.”

[seraphimbear]

headcanons for beatles being cuddly? 🤷🏼‍♀️ (like idk how long it would take them to show their more vulnerable side, their fav form of affection that got them purring etc.)

ooh, gladly! thank you for requesting :) also i’m so sorry i forget what i’m writing like halfway through so if this makes no sense or i go off topic i apologise lol

john:

john would definitely take a while to show that side of himself

especially if we're taking about early '60s john

back when he felt he had to be all tough

i'm picturing a young teddy john coming to your window one night in tears bc he had nowhere else to go

he didn't want you to see him like this but he didn't have much choice

after you let him in he pulled you into his arms before he could even give it a second thought

subconsiously trying to hide his teary face perhaps

you didn't pressure him into talking about what was bothering him, you just held him so tightly you could feel his heartbeat

you put on a record and guided him over to your bed, letting him rest his head on your chest to calm his breathing, gradually falling asleep intertwined

after that john would've certainly felt closer to you, but not entirely

plus that toxic masculinity can't be extinguished in a day

but after that, he did start to let that mask slip more and more around you

of course in public he tried his best to keep up that tough guy, masucline persona

but he knew that wasn't really who he was, and you knew it too

he was a guy who loved holding you in his arms

who loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair

who blushed when you kissed his cheek and told him you loved him

who turned away bashfully when you said he was handsome

he didn't exactly have a very high opinion of himself, so being shown that much love was at times a little confusing

"why are you so nice to me?"

"why do you love me?"

"why are you with me?"

baby definitely needed a lot of reassurance

over the years he'd get more comfortable showing his soft side in public

it'd feel liberating, not having to hide that part of himself

his favourite thing, though, would be having you close during recording sessions

while he's waiting for one of the other boys to finish their solos, he'd be sitting in front of you on the floor between your legs as you play with his hair

he'd look over his shoulder every now and then to show you some lyrics he’d been scribbling down in a notepad

he'd still have those days of insecurity, but at least with you he didn't have to hide it

he was able to feel

and no matter what he felt, you were there by his side

and he couldn't've been happier

george:

george would take a little while to fully feel comfortable

but don’t get me wrong, he’s very touchy

his love language being touch was never a big secret

teddy george would always always always be touching you in some way

whether that be an arm around your shoulders

or his hand on your waist

or his fingers tracing patterns on your skin

it’s sort of a grounding technique for him

him being able to touch you makes everything more real

it also definitely helps with that little anxious part of him

especially hugs!!!

as he gets older his love of touch definitely grows with him

he only goes to sleep when he can feel you in some way. it’s the only way he can relax

if he’s had a tough day his favourite thing would be to lay his head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat as your fingers dance across his skin

emotionally, he’d take a little while to open up

you’d definitely have to have some talks with him about how it’s okay to feel

“‘s not what men do”

“‘m not supposed to be all emotional”

“if i get caught cryin’ they’d call me a queer”

it took a while to get that sexist ‘men don’t cry’ bullshit out of his head

but eventually he rests on your shoulder and lets the tears fall

he wouldn’t talk about his issues, per say, but he would come to you for comfort

“what’s up, geo? you okay?” “i’m just… tired”

you’d probably have some sort of code phrase like that

a phrase he’d say to let you know that he feels like a pile of shit without having to reopen the wounds and talk about everything that went wrong

you wind up having a sort of unspoken connection i think

after all, words aren’t always necessary

paul:

talking!!! kisses!!! words of affirmation!!!

he was always a bit of a romantic

teddy paul was, like the others, putting on that Manly™ mask

but his definitely slipped faster than the others did when it came to his romantic partners

he’d stay over at your place a lot, letting you talk his ear off about whatever’s on your mind

eventually, during one of his visits on his mom’s birthday, he let down his walls

you told him “i never got to meet her, but i know your mom would be so proud of you”

after that, his metaphorical vulnerability door is wide open. he tells you everything

in public he’s still very much a tough boy, but it’s different with you

he trusts you, so he’s never afraid to talk to you about those “girly” feelings of his. he knows you won’t throw it in his face

most of the time he’s indifferent to physical affection

don’t get me wrong, he likes it

but nothing beats the feeling he gets in his chest when you compliment him after a performance

he loves making you proud!!!

he’ll also become a very blushy boy if you give him a deep compliment out of the blue

if you randomly look at him and tell him how lucky you are to know him, he will giggle

and that is a guarantee

“oh.. i- shut up, you” [affectionate]

he also loves when you talk while giving him a kiss

if you call him handsome while kissing his cheek he will melt into a puddle on the floor

after a while he’d be more needy physically i think

he’d have a moment of “oh shit i love this person but what happens if it all suddenly gets taken away from me”

and he’d start being way more physically affectionate

holding you hands constantly

fidgeting with your hair while you’re lying in bed

resting his head on your shoulder as he stands behind you

lying in your lap after a long day!!!

just be patient with him and eventually you’ll have him stuck to your hip

ringo:

cuddly boy? yes. absolutely

teddy ringo will probably have that possessive streak

that need to show everyone that you’re with him

he’d always have a hand on your back

or around your waist

it’d eventually graduate to him being very touchy

anytime you see him you better prepare to get smothered in physical affection

not in george’s way, though

ringo’s more obvious

he’s proud of you!! there’s nothing to hide

the boys might tease him about being soft but he couldn’t give less of a shit

he calls you every nickname under the sun

doll, my love, honey, darling, dear, etc etc etc

the boys probably place bets somedays on which one you’d be called

he just can’t help it!!

if you have longer hair he definitely tucks it behind your ears all the time

he’s so so gentle with you

he’d want you with him while they’re recording and all that

in between takes he’d love to sneak off with you and take a walk around the studio

not only would he get to stretch his legs but he’d also get to hear your voice!! one of his favourite things!!

emotionally vulnerable boy? as long as it’s reciprocated, absolutely

it’s definitely a give and take

he’s not going to open up if he sees that you’re not willing to do the same

he’s very tentative with who he trusts

but as soon as the trust is there? you’re getting told every little thing he can think of

he doesn’t really like talking about emotional stuff in public

but in private he’d go to you for advice about things that happened during the day

one of his most common phrases is probably “doll, i don’t know what i’d do without you”

yes he still calls you doll after all this time shut up

you two would definitely have deep talks before falling asleep

and you definitely fall asleep holding hands with one of you rubbing your thumb over their knuckles

he doesn’t hug or anything while he’s asleep but as soon as he wakes up you’re getting smothered

okay well this kind of turned into just. what it would be like to date them but nonetheless i hope you enjoyed it!!

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

hi, i need to make and urgent request hahah, i came up with this insane idea and if you are not comfortable writing it don’t worry, i totally get it

okay soo... y/n had sex with george and he has a breeding kink and came inside y/n, so after that they stay together and after a while she gets up to get a shower and clean herself but she didn’t notice that fred walked into the shower and wanted to do the deed hahah but he notices the cum inside of her and grabs the shower head and tells her that he’s going to clean her really well and she comes and fred is just overstimulating her until she’s whimpering (all consensual ofc) and after that he fucks her in the shower (: thank youu

pairing(s): george weasley x reader, fred weasley x reader 

warning(s): 18+, breeding kink, overstimulation, slight praise, slight degradation, creative use of a showerhead 

word count: 1.9k 

a/n: completely insane idea but i loved it and it’s now my fantasy of the week. also, reader is in a relationship with both of them so everyone is cool with what’s going on here haha. enjoy!

“Tell me, Y/N. Tell me where my baby girl wants me to cum,” George said lowly in your ear, not even breaking a sweat as he thrust deep inside of you. 

You could barely form words between his strokes, unable to wrap your head around anything other than how good he was making you feel. But you knew exactly what he wanted to hear. 

“Inside me, please. Cum inside me,” you whined out, your back arching further as you spoke. 

You could feel the familiar feeling of arousal pool up inside of you, making you clutch to George’s back just so you didn’t drown in the pleasure. 

“I know you’re close, babygirl. Cum for me so I can fill you up,” George said before attaching his lips to the spot where your jaw met your neck, making you keen at the sensation. 

It didn’t take much longer to do exactly as he asked, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you as your body tensed and relaxed. George easily fucked you through your orgasm, words of praise falling from his lips as he did so, before chasing his own. 

He fucked you brutally, his cock pushing into your sensitive walls over and over again before he finally came with a groan. At the feeling of his warmth filling you up, you felt a new rush of arousal go through you, but were quickly settled as he brought you into his arms without pulling out yet. 

“You’re going to be the death of me one day, little witch,” George mused fondly, stroking a hand down your back as you both caught your breath. 

“Thought you said the way you wanted to go was between my thighs, so this can only be second best,” you replied cheekily, pressing a kiss to his chest. 

He only chuckled, out of witty comebacks for you at the moment, and gently rearranged your bodies. He finally slipped out of you, along with a trail of his cum that left you squirming. It’s not that you didn’t like it when he, or his twin brother, came inside of you, it just wasn’t the most pleasant feeling afterwards. 

“I think I’ll go take a quick shower,” you told him with a sigh, not wanting to get up but you knew you’d be uncomfortable otherwise. 

“I’ll be here when you get back,” George said with a small smile, placing a kiss on your temple before you got up. 

You wandered into the hallway still naked, knowing it was only you and George home at the moment. And even if Fred finally found his way upstairs from the shop, it wasn’t like he had never seen you naked. 

You got ready for your shower in silence, just enjoying the soreness of your muscles that never quite seemed to go away when you had two more than eager twins willing to go at a moment's notice. You had already managed to shampoo and rinse your hair when you heard the bathroom door open. 

“Come for round two?” You asked cheekily, not even bothering to look at who was on the other side of the curtain, assuming it was George. 

“That would imply there was a round one,” you heard call back, making you pause. 

“Oh, so you finally found your way up the stairs,” you commented, poking your head out of the shower to watch Fred as he stripped off the last of his clothing. 

“Didn’t think you two would start without me,” he said back, but held no real malice in his tone. He climbed into the shower and immediately wrapped you in his arms, not even bothering to rinse himself off first.

“Well you know how Georgie gets when he’s ready to go,” you argued lightly, letting yourself relax into Fred’s muscular form. 

He pulled away with a dark chuckle, just enough away that he could wrap one hand under your chin and force you to look up at him. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong darling, but I don’t think it was George this time. I saw you all day, giving us those innocent eyes as if you were trying to hide how fucking desperate you were for it,” he said lowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m sure you begged him to fuck you in that pretty little voice that gets him every time.”

You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, knowing Fred had seen right through you all day. And that was exactly what you had done. You knew getting George alone was a tried and true way to get exactly what you wanted if you begged prettily enough, something that didn’t always work with Fred. And now you felt as if you were about to atone for your sins in this small shower with Fred wielding your punishment. 

“That’s what I thought,” Fred said with a smirk, noting your silence. “Now let’s get you cleaned up, hm?” He asked innocently enough, but there was something mischievous and calculating behind his eyes that you couldn’t place. 

In one swift move, Fred had your back pressed against his chest and the shower head down from the wall. He backed you both up until he was leaning against the opposite wall and your body was resting against his, his erection pressing into your lower back. 

“Fred, wha-,” you wanted to ask at the abrupt change, but he quickly cut you off. 

“I know how much Georgie loves to cum inside of you. Open those pretty legs for me so I can get you all clean,” he explained gently, but you knew it was a command. One that you couldn’t get out of. One that renewed your arousal from earlier. One that, if it weren’t for the water dripping down your body, he’d know exactly how wet it made you when he spoke to you like that. 

You let out a shaky breath but slowly opened your legs to expose yourself. Almost immediately, he held the shower head so close to your clit that a shiver went down your body and a small gasp escaped your mouth. Without even thinking, your hands came up to clutch his forearms. Without that small reprieve, you were sure your legs would collapse from underneath you. 

“Look at you,” Fred mused, and you could feel the rumble of his words through his chest. “Still so fucking desperate for it that a shower head is gonna get you off.” 

“Fred, please,” you gasped through your moan as he repositioned the stream of water to aim directly at your clit. 

“Please, what?” He asked teasingly, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. 

“Please fuck me,” You begged shamelessly, not even bothering to control the volume of your voice even if George could hear you. Not that he would mind listening. Better yet, he’d probably come to watch if you were loud enough. 

“I’ll fuck you when I think you’re clean enough,” he told you, masterfully leaving over what he determined as ‘clean enough’. 

Turns out, ‘clean enough’ was about three orgasms later. 

Fred held you against him with ease, working you through three orgasms with just the shower head and his voice. Praises of ‘good girl’ and ‘you’re gonna feel so good around my cock once you’re all cleaned out’ that left you preening under the attention mixed with heated teases of ‘if you had just waited for me I wouldn’t have to clean my dirty girl out’ and ‘you have such a messy little cunt’ that made you blush. No matter what filth fell from his mouth, you were forced that much closer to the edge every time. 

Once the third orgasm rolled through your body, your nails dug into his arm with aimless pleas on your lips for it all to stop. Keeping you close to his body, Fred removed the shower head from your body and put it back in its rightful spot before spinning you around to hold you close. 

“You did so good for me, darling. So fucking pretty falling apart for me like that,” he said quietly, his hands traveling up and down your sides, doing everything in his power to calm your body down from its shaking. 

When you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice his erection still pressed against your body. Slowly, you brought your hand up to wrap it around him, a groan easily ripping through him. 

“Think you still have one more for me, darling? I’d love to fuck you stupid,” he asked carefully, unwilling to push your limits at the moment. 

You didn’t even give him a proper answer, just connected your lips with his and adjusted your bodies so your back was now against the wall. He seemed to take it as a ‘yes’, easily hoisting you up without breaking the heated kiss. 

He pulled away from the kiss to rake his eyes up and down your body, fully exposed to him in the position he held you in. “Fuck, look at you, darling. I’m not going to be gentle. Still think you can take it?” He asked teasingly, referring to your swollen sex that his eyes couldn’t seem to leave. 

“Fred, just fuck me,” you half begged, half demanded as you caught him in another kiss, and to your delight he complied. 

The sounds of your bodies colliding together and the groans and moans spilling from both of your lips were echoing around the bathroom, both of you having no problem being loud despite knowing that George was mere feet away in the bedroom waiting for the both of you.

He hadn’t been lying either - he had no intention to be gentle with you. He fucked you furiously, his large cock splitting you open over and over again as he thrust deeply inside of you. His mouth never left yours, even when the kiss was mostly teeth and tongue. You were so sensitive that you felt your body almost immediately meet the edge of your fifth orgasm of the night, and based on the sounds he was making, he was right behind you. 

“So fucking tight. Cum for me, Y/N,” Fred got out in between his own moans, always the vocal one in the bedroom, or rather the bathroom in this instance.  

Your final orgasm ripped through you, your walls fluttering around his cock and milking the orgasm right out of him. His head remained in the crook of your neck as he worked you both through it, his breath ghosting over your neck as the final shock waves went through your body. 

Without many words shared between the pair of you, you both finished your actual shower - Fred washing your body dutifully and dotingly, being as gentle as he could be. He dried you off with the softest towel you owned and brushed and braided your hair for you before scoping your naked form back up in his arms to return you to the bedroom. 

“Finally,” you heard George’s sleepy voice utter, making you giggle into Fred’s neck.

“I’d say sorry for holding your cuddle buddy hostage, but I’m really not,” Fred quipped back, depositing you gently in the middle of the bed before crawling in after you. 

“Doubt she’s sorry either,” George said, his eyes trailing up and down your naked and spent body. “Heard all her pretty little noises from here.” 

Despite your assumption that he heard you, you still blushed at the knowledge that he in fact did. Blushed as if he hadn’t physically seen his twin fuck you countless times before. 

That was the perfect part of dating both of them. Well, one of many.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Inner Conflict

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3586

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Some Angst, Some Fluff, Sam and Bucky being idiots, Mentions of PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression

A/N: Here’s Part Three to my FATWS Series, which I’m making a masterlist for that you can find Here. 

Uh…it’s a little long, and I apologize for that. It doesn’t even encompass the whole second episode, only the first half, so a Part 3.5 will be coming out later today probably (it’s my day off work so I have all day to relax and write!) I tried not doing a line for line rewrite of the episode, but there are quotes from the show in here. Mostly it’s Reader’s thoughts and feelings towards what’s happening while conversations are going on around. Reader’s backstory is a bit more unfurled. It’s more action packed and more scene-for-scene of the episode than the previous two. Less emotions shared and less hurt/comfort type of thing, but that’ll be back in the next part probably along with more scenes not in the show. The next part I’m planning won’t be as long, it’ll mainly just be the Couples Therapy scene and a bit more angst with her and Sam and her and Bucky.

Because there’s four more episodes and I don’t know what’s going to happen in them, I’m kinda hesitant on spilling out exactly what is going on with the Reader and what her role was on the original team, but we’ll get there. Also, I wasn’t expecting to be writing multiple pieces for one episode, but if the other episodes are as packed as this one, prepare yourself for more parts than anticipated. We’re already on Part 3 and I’ve got Part 3.5 coming. Just bare with me as I don’t know what’s going to happen in future episodes! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it! 

(Not beta’d so excuse any mistakes.)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

Walking out of the shower, ruffling a towel through your hair to dry it off, you froze at the sound of the TV. A sigh left your lips. It’s all he’d been doing the last few days - watching the news. Keeping up with the tour for the new Captain America.

You peeked out of the small bedroom to find Bucky sitting on the floor, brow creased as he watched John Walker talk to the Good Morning America hostess.

“You shouldn’t be watching that.” You spoke up, leaning on the doorway, still patting your hair dry. He glanced over to you, taking in the towel wrapped around you, before looking back at the TV. Seeing you like that wasn’t anything new. “Buck, I’m serious. Brooding over it won’t make anything better.”

“What do you want me to do?”

You let out a sigh, shifting your feet and biting your lip as you thought about how to respond. “I-I haven’t figured it out yet. But obsessing over the new guy-”

“Aren’t you mad?”

You frowned at his question, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I told you already that I am.”

He tilted his head, which he did when he was confused, his eyes narrowing. “Why don’t you show it? Why aren’t you screaming or cursing or crying or something? You, of all people-”

“Because it won’t help anything, Buck.” You shook your head, pushing off the wall. “I want to. But if I let myself go down that road…” Dropping your gaze to the floor, you take a breath, collecting your thoughts. “This is such a complicated situation, James. I’m being contacted left and right for a statement on the new Captain. People trying to see my reaction. Senators trying to get me to meet with him. I can’t let myself snap. I can’t.”

He scowled. “They’re still bothering you?”

A dry chuckle escaped your lips and you nodded. “Makes me miss the days when no one knew who I was; when I was the behind-the-scenes seventh Avenger. But I made that choice to come out, and I have to deal with the consequences now. Blowing up will only-”

“Even though I never met him…he feels like a brother.”

That one statement stopped you in your tracks. Bucky’s head whipped back to the TV, his jaw ticking, his nose scrunching up.

“Did he really just say that?”

Bucky merely nodded, his chest heaving as he tried getting his breathing under control. “Feel like snapping now?”

You purse your lips as you held in the tears stinging your eyes. After composing yourself, you moved over and grabbed the remote, letting out a tiny sniffle as you did so. You tentatively touched Bucky’s shoulder, silently asking him if he needed anything from you. His response was to open his arms, so you quickly got down besides him to hold him.

“He is my brother, doll.”

“I know, Buck.” You pressed a soft kiss to his head, which rested against your bare shoulder.

Your bare knees are pressed harshly against the wooden panels of the floor, and you’re twisted awkwardly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. As long as he was comfortable, you would take the uncomfortable position. As long as he was being held, you would take the soreness it would leave. As long as you could help him be some sort of okay, you would take not being okay in this position.

 You two sat like that for a few more moments before your phone buzzed. You gave a sigh, pulling back and holding his cheeks in either hand. He wasn’t crying, although he was on the verge of doing so. You’d seen him cry before, so you knew he didn’t mind. For you it was a different story.

Bucky had maybe seen you cry twice since the whole Blip thing went down. And one of them was over the phone, so he didn’t see it so much as he heard it. You didn’t let yourself cry in front of him. Or anyone, for that matter. It was a part of you. The only person you ever felt comfortable enough around to cry in front of…wasn’t there. And you couldn’t change that.

“We’ll figure it out.” You told him, nodding gently and letting a small, sad smile quirk the corners of your lips up. “Okay? We’ll figure it out.”

The clench in his jaw loosened as your fingers worked circles into the hinge, making him relax and nod back. You pressed a tender kiss to his forehead before standing up, moving across the room to where your phone was on the counter. You assumed it’d be another government official or news reporter, so you were slightly shocked to see ‘Sammy’ flashing up at you.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you read his message, a slight pout forming on your face. 

“Doll?” Toned arms wrapped around you, warm and cool, his chin setting on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sam. He needs my help with something.”

“I’m coming with you.”

You turned in his arms, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Why?”

He shrugged, licking his lips. “You might need help.”

“Bucky, you can’t go if you’re just going to yell at him.”

“I won’t.”

You studied his features. He was lying, you knew that. Of course he was going to snap at Sam for giving up the shield. He was mad and they got on each others’ nerves every chance they could find, so of course he was going to.

But you still found yourself saying yes and telling him to go pack a bag. You were never able to say no to Steve and it seemed that got passed on. What a nuisance it was.

****************

And you were so right. It was the first thing he said once Sam came into view coming down the stairs.

“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, Sam.”

“James.” You squeezed the hand he was holding, voice pleading for him not to do this right now. He huffed, stepping back to let you greet Sam properly, giving the man a hug. “Hi, Sammy.”

“It’s been a while.” Sam commented, pulling back and holding you by the shoulders. “You look good. Not that you’ve ever looked otherwise.”

You gave him a small smile. “You do too.”

“Thanks for coming. I know it’s short notice, but-”

“It’s fine, Sam. Really.” You insist.

Sam nodded, before eyeing Bucky. “Did you have to bring him?”

“Samuel-”

“This is wrong.” Bucky cut in, staring Sam down, falling into step besides him as the man started heading outside.

“James-”

“Hey, hey. Look. I’m working, all right?”

You rolled your eyes as the two started arguing, stopping your stride to take a breather. You used to joke about babysitting them, but it didn’t feel like a joke anymore and you were getting tired of it. All the bickering for no reason. The contempt they held for one another. Steve made you promise that you would look out for them, and you were trying, but they weren’t making it easy.

When you joined them again, you raised an eyebrow at the direction the conversation turned. How the hell did they get from arguing about the shield to what a wizard is?

“Ahh! Haha! A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat!”

You gave Sam a look as he babbled about how he was right. “Sorcerer Mickey has a hat. Isn’t that, like, how he gets his powers and everything?”

Bucky grinned at you. “Thank you!”

“Excuse you!” Sam scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “We were having a conversation!”

“Yeah. A stupid conversation I just ended. Now I’m gonna be in the plane. Feel free to join me when you’re done being idiots.”

They both spluttered, but you were already walking away, leaving no room for arguments. As you loaded onto the plane, you spotted the Lieutenant whom Sam mentioned who had been helping him out with missions. Torres, you thought, remembering his name from a previous phone call with your friend.

“You Lieutenant Torres?” You asked, walking up to him.

He blinked, before his eyes widened, a grin appearing on his face. He seemed young, which you were perfectly okay with considering you’ve been working alongside old men for the past decade. It was always nice to work with a fresh face, which you found after you started working with Wanda and Peter.

The thought of the two youngest members made you falter, not having heard from either of them since Christmas almost six months prior, but you quickly recovered yourself, shaking away the worries you had for them.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N! I’m a huge fan! I’ve read all your files!”

Chuckling a little, you held out your hand. “Most of those are heavily classified.”

He ducked his head with a little blush, rubbing the back of his neck after shaking your hand. “I, uh, I might’ve…used connections.”

“It’s okay.” You reassured him, throwing him a wink. “I won’t tell. Can you tell me what’s going on? Sam didn’t exactly explain the situation.”

He nodded, getting into ‘work mode’, something you’ve seen in most military men, informing you of their recent missions and the group known as the Flag-Smashers and giving you a file on them. He was in the middle of telling you about his solo mission in Germany when your two fellas came in, sending each other small glares, but remaining quiet.

Bucky caught your eye and sent an apologetic look your way, to which you just smiled at before turning back to Torres.

“Well I’m glad you’re okay.” You told him once he was done.

“Oh yeah. It wasn’t that bad.”

You laughed and nodded. “I’m sure. You seem like a tough kid.”

He smiled, before looking around and jabbing his thumb behind his shoulder. “I-I’ve gotta go, but-”

“We can talk later.” You promised with a grin.

“Really?!”

“Of course! I have a feeling we’ll be working together more, and I like getting to know who’s gonna have my back.”

He beamed and nodded, walking backwards. “That’d be awesome! Talk to you later then!”

You giggled as he turned around and jogged off, pumping his fist in the air. You turned to a grinning Sam and nodded towards where Torres left. “I like him. Seems like a nice kid.”

“He is. Very energetic. A little reckless, but he’s got a good heart.”

You hummed, the smile falling from your face as you flipped through the file Torres gave you. “So…Munich?”

“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry again for taking you away from the search, but-”

“Search is off.” You informed him quickly, not looking up. “Until further notice.”

The plane went quiet, before Sam cleared his throat. “So…no sign of Wanda yet, then?”

You shut the file, looking up at the men whose features were laced with concern. “I’m gonna go talk to the pilot. Behave while I’m gone. No pushing each other off the plane.”

“Doll?”

You were stopped by the hand that grabbed your wrist as you passed Bucky. You shot him another smile, knowing it wasn’t convincing enough for him, but it being the best one you had. “I’m okay. I’ve just gotta ask him some questions.”

************

Opening your mouth to stop him, you groaned when Bucky jumped out of the plane before you could speak. First Sam jumps without sharing the plan, then Bucky jumps without having a plan. Or a parachute. Or wings. Or anything.

Torres looked at you, but all you could do was shrug. “I dunno what to tell you, kid.”

“You’re not gonna do that, are you?”

“No.” You reassured him, shaking your head. “I’m gonna wait ‘til we land like a normal person and take my bike. I just have to pray that they’ll wait to do anything stupid until I get there.”

They didn’t wait. You’re pretty sure they didn’t even think about waiting. By the time you got to them, they were fighting - and losing, might you add - to six really strong people on top of two semi trucks.

Because why wouldn’t they?

Oh, oh. And on top of that, the fake was there, throwing the shield. The shield that didn’t belong to him. The shield that meant so much more than he would ever know.

“Hi, doll! Sorry we started the party without you!” Bucky shouted from where he was hanging off the edge, that close to the street and getting his head torn off by the tire.

“I’m so tired of babysitting you two, you know that?!”

“Oh! Sorry we’re such an inconvenience for you! Blame him! He jumped the gun!” Sam shouted, coming to fly next to you as you rolled up your sleeves, standing on your bike, using one hand to steer.

“Can I get a little help already?!”

“Sam-!”

“On it!”

Knowing that no matter how much they pissed each other off, Sam would make sure Bucky was okay and vice versa, you focused on getting to the top, where Walker and a buddy of his were struggling a little bit.

You climbed up to the roof of the semi no one was on, wincing when you heard your bike skidding across the pavement. There goes half your salary.

You couldn’t dwell on it for very long, considering one of the guys appeared in front of you. You recognized the fighting - the strength - and faltered, a memory resurfacing at a very bad time.

~

“C’mon, honey. You can do better than that.” Steve grinned at you, holding out a hand to help you up.

“Excuse me for not having super strength, Rogers.” You huffed out, taking it and letting him pull you up.

“You don’t need to be stronger than me. You just need to be smarter.”

“That’ll be easy.” You teased, stretching your arms before getting into your stance again. “You’re a dumbass sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, who chose to be friends with this dumbass?”

“Everyone needs a dumbass for a friend.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “So I’m your dumbass?”

“If you want.”

The grin he shot you made your heart skip a beat. “If you’ll have me.”

~

You blinked, but Steve wasn’t in front of you anymore and you weren’t in the gym in DC. 

The guy caught the punch you distractedly threw and twisted your arm, making you cry out, kicking him in the back of the knee and flipping him over your shoulder.

You went to kick him again, but he caught your leg and threw you against the side of the other semi. You were able to grab onto where Bucky had ripped through the side, but you winced as the metal cut through your palm. Sam had just flown under the trucks, taking Buck with him, and you knew when a fight wasn’t worth it, so you quickly moved around the truck, letting Walker and his pal distract the Flag-Smashers, before letting yourself fall onto the side where the grass was.

You wanted to lay there, to catch your breath and curse yourself for getting distracted. You hadn’t had a flashback like that in a while. But you didn’t let yourself. You had to make sure the guys were okay.

Standing up made you cringe; you could feel the throbbing in your shoulder from where it was no doubt dislocated and your leg was aching, the muscle probably pulled when the guy threw you.

“Doll!” You turned, seeing Bucky and Sam sprinting towards you a few yards down the road. “Hey, hey.” Bucky immediately had his hands hovering over you, scanning your body. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, shoving his hands away. “I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

“I think I dislocated it.”

Sam frowned. “What the hell happened?”

You gave him a weird look, starting to limp across the field to where you noticed a side road earlier. “They were super soldiers, Sam. And we got our asses kicked.”

“Yeah, but you know how to fight a super soldier-”

“It’s been a while.”

“Bullshit.” Sam side stepped in front of you, making you stop. “What happened?”

“I-I just got distracted, okay?”

“Y/N. Look at me.” Bucky took your face between his palms, eyes worried. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. A tired sigh left your lips and you looked anywhere but his eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just hurting. My leg, I think I pulled it or something-”

“C’mere.” Bucky turned and crouched down, making you blink.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t be walking. We don’t wanna make it worse.”

“But it’s just a strain, it won’t-”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just get on the man’s back, Y/N.”

You bit your lip before sighing and carefully climbing on his back. He shifted you gently, making sure to hold your leg with caution, leaning his head into yours when you hooked your chin on his shoulder. “You-you don’t have to talk about what happened. Just-just know that when you do…I’ll be here, okay?”

You nodded, moving to press your nose against the column of his throat. “Okay.”

But you could never tell them. How could you? How could you tell the world’s longest POW that you were having nightmares? How could you complain to an Air Force vet who served two tours in Afghanistan and watched his best friend get blown out of the air that you were having flashbacks?

You weren’t sure if it was PTSD or anxiety or depression. Maybe all three. It didn’t matter, though, because you didn’t want to admit it. You wouldn’t admit it. No one thought the Blip messed you up that badly. No one thought Steve leaving did that much damage. And you were okay with that. You were okay with them thinking you were healing - that you were fine - because they needed to see that it could be done. That they could be fine, too. Especially the men walking, Sam teasing Bucky per usual.

It wasn’t until a horn honked that you allowed yourself to be pulled out of your thoughts. A scoff left you when you realized who it was, switching the side you were laying on so your cheek pressed up against the cool metal of his left shoulder, facing away from the jeep.

You tried ignoring the guy as he talked about working together and shit, taking a shuddering breath, making Bucky squeeze your uninjured thigh. There was no way you were working with him. You couldn’t. It’d be like betraying Steve and you didn’t need that on top of all the other things you were dealing with.

You couldn’t deny the need for a ride though. The airport was 20 miles away and you were hurting pretty bad. You suspected that was the reason the guys relented, Bucky tenderly setting you down in the jeep between him and Sam, careful of your injuries.

You stared at your lap as Walker and Sam talked shop. You understood where they were coming from, you were always able to see both sides of the coin, but it didn’t mean you were going to willingly work with him.

“I got mad respect for all of y’all, but you were kind of getting your asses kicked till we showed up.”

You scoffed at that, finally raising your eyes to meet Walker’s friend’s. “Like you were doing any better?”

Bucky reached over to grab her hand that was resting on her lap. “You know, I’ve been trying to get in contact with you.” Walker faced you, eyes raking down your form. Bucky shifted in his spot, but you ran your thumb over his knuckles before he could do or say anything stupid.

“Yeah. I know. My phone hasn’t stopped blowing up for a week. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Walker frowned. “If you just answered-”

“I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you’ve done. I’ve been a little busy doing my job to blow smoke up your ass on national television. Sorry if my saving people’s lives has been an inconvenience for you, but some wannabe playing dress up isn’t my top priority.”

Walker’s brows furrowed and he was about to say something, when Bucky cut in, asking his friend who he was. You were already that close to jumping out of the jeep, when the guy, Hoskins, told you three that he went by ‘Battlestar’.

If the situation wasn’t so aggravating, you would’ve laughed when Bucky immediately told the driver to stop, opening the door before the car even stopped. “C’mere, doll.” He murmured, lifting you up into his arms bridal style, before walking off, tuning out Walker as he shouted after you two.

You pouted a little when you saw Sam still talking to the guy. “What’re they talking about, Buck?”

“Some nonsense about him not replacing Steve. Just trying to be the best Captain America he can.”

You laid your head against Bucky’s chest. “The best Captain America is Steve. He can never be Steve.”

“I know, doll.”

“Steve told me once that all he was trying to do was be a good man…it’ll always amaze me that he didn’t see he was the best.”

You missed the distraught look Bucky shot towards you, the look in his eyes almost heartbroken while you talked fondly about his best friend. The tortured scrunch to his features seemed to melt away at your next words, though, and he held you tighter as you curled into his hold.

“Just like it amazes me that you don’t know how important you are to me too, Buckaroo.”

[bluejayblueskies]

oh if you did a little something for jonmartin and "hiding their face in the other’s neck" i would be so 🥺💕

touches prompt list

a little post-circus kidnapping hurt/comfort! cw for wounds/injury, mild blood, mentions of non-consensual touching, and mentions of kidnapping

.

There is a stranger’s elbow digging into Jon’s side.

He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his side while surreptitiously giving the stranger a glare that he hopes adequately conveys his dislike of the current situation. The tube is packed, as it always is at this time of day, and there are… so many strange hands. An elbow, at least, is better than the hand that had pressed to his back as the individual it belonged to had instinctively tried to maintain their balance.

After all, Nikola didn’t touch him with her elbows.

Jon doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think about any of it. He wants to lie down in a soft bed and get his first good night’s sleep in a month and finally have the space to process. Alone.

Instead, Martin stands next to him on the train. His hand rests just beneath Jon’s where it grips one of the metal poles, and Martin takes care not to brush against him despite how crowded the car is. Jon considered telling Martin, when they first got on the tube, that it was okay—that his touch would be… well, it wouldn’t be bad. But he’d stayed silent, allowing Martin to cultivate a careful space between them. They’ve been silent for the past twenty minutes as they’ve passed by station after station on their way to Martin’s flat in Brixton.

“I have a flat,” Jon had said uncomprehendingly when Martin had suggested (or rather, gently begged) that Jon come back to his flat with him. “It’s, um. It’s nice. Spacious. S-sturdy locks.”

“You… you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Martin had said, sounding and looking very much like he wished Jon would anyway.

“I’m fine.” Jon was not fine. But he could be fine until he got back to his flat. It was always good to have a short-term goal.

Martin gave him a look that clearly said that he thought Jon was full of shit. Jon was, but it was still unnecessary. He was just trying to keep it together. What did Martin want—him sobbing and crumpling to the floor right here in the Archives? No, that wouldn’t do at all.

“You were kidnapped. Twice now. I really don’t want it to happen a third time. Besides, I…” Martin trailed off and fluttered his hands at his sides. “I—I should take a look at your hand. And your, um. Wrists.”

Jon looked down at his arms. They were, indeed, quite red and raw and scabbed over and likely to scar. Nikola had been irritated when she’d seen that he’d been tied up so tightly, but she’d decided there was nothing to be done about it. She would just ‘make do with what she had.’ And, well. She had never stopped Breekon and Hope when they’d cinched the ropes just a little bit tighter each time.

“I have first aid supplies in my flat,” Jon lied. He was fairly certain that he had a backpack of What the Ghost merchandise and a single mattress to his name at the moment. “I can take care of it.”

“So can I.” Martin took a deep breath. “I just… I don’t want to see you hurt, Jon.” His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and he looked over Jon’s shoulder at the wall behind him. “J-just for tonight, at least? I want…” Martin swallowed. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

And then Martin had turned those lovely blue eyes to his, and, well. Here they are.

Jon adds 24 hours onto his mental countdown of the time he has left until he’s allowed to break down and tells himself that he can manage. It’s… important to have long-term goals as well. He splits this one into steps.

Step one: get to Martin’s flat without crying. He achieves this easily enough. He finally escapes the cloying presence of strangers as Martin’s door shuts behind them, and then it’s blissfully quiet. Martin flips on a light, illuminating the space in pale yellow. It’s a little bit messy but otherwise spartan. The walls are painted a dull eggshell white, the floor made of cheap lino. Martin sits Jon down on the couch and disappears into the bathroom. Jon stares at the wall and focuses on breathing evenly and thinking about anything other than how smooth his skin feels when he slowly rubs his fingers together.

Step two: let Martin bandage his wounds without crying. This is… more challenging, if only because it hurts. Martin apologizes profusely as he wets a cotton ball with isopropyl alcohol and gently cleans the inflamed areas. Jon sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, focusing on anything other than the stinging, burning sensation in his wrists and hands. Funny—he’d thought that at this point, he would be used to the pain, but he’s not. All he knows now is what to expect.

Martin carefully wraps his hand and wrists in bandages. For a moment after he’s done, he delicately holds Jon’s hands in his like they’re porcelain. His hands are warm and soft, and Jon imagines how lovely they would feel against his cheeks. He thinks briefly that Martin is going to raise his unbandaged hand to his lips and lay a kiss across the back of it, but Martin doesn’t. Instead, he sets Jon’s hands back in his lap and stands, mumbling that he’s going to go make some tea.

Jon scrubs his uninjured hand across his eyes, just once.

Step three: sit on the couch with Martin and drink tea without crying. Martin presses a mug of steaming chamomile into his good hand and lays a plate of biscuits between them. “Th-they’re your favorite,” Martin says with a small, nervous laugh, like Jon’s not already staring at the plate with something choked sitting in the back of his throat. “I—I figured you probably haven’t really eaten today, and… I don’t really know what you’ve eaten lately. So, um. Yeah.”

Jon thinks of the things that Nikola had called food, then chooses not to think of them at all. He tucks the memory into a box next to cold hands and exposed skin and burning ropes and slams the lid before it can all come spilling back out again. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. He gingerly takes a biscuit in his stiff, aching hand that hasn’t had the time to heal properly and probably won’t get the chance to do so in the future and pops it into his mouth whole so he doesn’t get crumbs on Martin’s couch.

Step four: eat a biscuit that tastes like the best biscuit you’ve ever had and is the first palatable food you’ve had in weeks without crying.

“Jon?”

Jon blinks and comes back to himself. He’s staring blankly at Martin’s face, at eyebrows folded in concern and mouth curled into a small frown. Martin’s freckles are smudged into smears of tan, and the lines of his jaw waver like a mirage in front of Jon’s eyes. That’s odd, Jon thinks. Then, he feels something wet hit the top of his cheek.

Oh, no.

Quickly, Jon reaches up and scrubs the tears away from his eyes. As soon as he lowers his hand, more spring up in their place. He curses and sets his mug of tea down heavily on the table, taking one more look at Martin—whose eyes are now wide with worry—before turning away and attempting to pull himself together.

Step five: stop crying. Stop crying. Stop crying.

(Stop crying, his grandmother says as he stands in the living room, hands and knees dirty and hair a mess. He’s managing to say words between his sobs, words like book and stole and spider. She’s frowning at him, but her voice is still patient and calm when she says, You’re not making any sense, Jonathan. Stop crying, please, and speak clearly. You had a nightmare?)

“Jon, what’s—” Martin catches himself, which Jon is thankful for. He thinks that if Martin had finished that question—asked him what’s wrong—Jon wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from saying, what isn’t? “What can I do to help?” he says instead, a hand hovering carefully in the air between them like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch Jon or not.

“Don’t look,” Jon manages to say. He immediately feels ridiculous and follows with a quick: “S-sorry, it’s—I don’t k-know how to—I’m not—I’m n-not good at—”

“I’m not looking,” Martin says softly.

Jon cuts off, takes a breath, and turns his head back toward Martin. True to his word, Martin has his eyes closed, though his hand remains in the air between them. Jon presses his good hand to his mouth for a moment to hide how the sight rips a new, more ragged sob out of him. Then, tentatively, he reaches forward and takes Martin’s hand.

Martin inhales sharply. Jon almost lets go, but Martin curls his fingers around Jon’s hand and squeezes. He holds Jon’s hand tightly yet so achingly softly, and Jon could weep. (Or rather, is weeping.)

“Can I hug you?” Martin says abruptly, like he’d been fighting an internal battle about whether or not to say it and had just lost. His cheeks darken, but he doesn’t say anything else or take it back. His jaw shifts as he pinches his lips together and worries them back and forth.

Jon is… not the kind of person who initiates or seeks out hugs. He always makes them too stiff, or he holds on just a bit too long and makes them awkward, or he doesn’t know what to do with his hands and ends up just dangling them uselessly in the air. He’s also never really seen the point of them if he’s being honest. As a form of greeting, surely handshakes or waves or head nods get the point across just fine. Right now, though, there is truly nothing in the world that Jon thinks would make him feel safer than having Martin’s arms around him.

Jon nods, then remembers that Martin can’t see him and whispers, in as composed a voice as he can muster: “Please.”

Step six: hug Martin Blackwood without falling apart completely.

Martin’s arms are soft and warm around him. His chest is flush with Jon’s, and he’s holding him so close that Jon is practically on Martin’s lap. All Jon can think is that it’s been so long since he’s been held by something not made of sawdust or plastic. He grips the back of Martin’s jumper with lotion-soft hands and cries tears that have been collecting for a month into the fabric as he buries his face in Martin’s neck. Martin’s hands rub large circles across Jon’s back, and he’s whispering gentle words into Jon’s ear. Things about safe and okay and time and here.

By the time Jon feels thoroughly wrung dry, his cheeks are sticky and his head is throbbing and he’s desperately in need of a glass of water. He takes a few deep breaths, then carefully extracts himself from Martin’s arms. Martin lets him go easily, though his hands remain resting lightly on Jon’s elbows as if he can’t bear to let him go completely.

Jon thinks he knows the feeling.

Martin’s eyes are still closed, and Jon is hit with such a swell of affection he can hardly breathe around it. “Y-you can open your eyes,” he says, a bit sheepishly. Martin does, and if he’s affected by the state of Jon’s face, he doesn’t show any indication of it. “Sorry,” Jon mumbles, twisting his ring—now on his left middle finger instead of his right—around and around mindlessly. “I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s elbows gently. “I understand. Any time you need me to look away, I will. Okay? I just…” He takes a breath. “I’ll always be here. F-for you when you need me.”

If Jon weren’t thoroughly out of tears, that would make his eyes water. Instead, he nods and offers a small, weak smile. “I know. Thank you, Martin. It… just. Thank you.”

Step seven: fall asleep safe against Martin’s side in the bed that he insists is big enough for two, face pressed into Martin’s neck once again and hands curled loosely in Martin’s sleep shirt.

He’s so drained by the time they’re there, so wrung-out and empty and relaxed, that he manages to do so almost immediately. He thinks he hears Martin murmur, “Sleep well, love,” as he drifts off. But it disappears into the fuzzy border between sleep and wakefulness, slipping from Jon’s mind entirely as he fades to black.