#but when I think about them completely changing him

[maskedbyghost]

Possessive reader getting a body pillow cover of Simon made for when he’s on deployment for long periods of time and can’t communicate. Like a cat seeing a balloon of itself, man is pissy anytime he’s reminded it exists and gets reader’s undivided attention the moment he’s forced away from them.

You didn’t buy it as a joke. That’s the first thing people get wrong. You weren’t drunk or being ironic or trying to be funny about how much you missed him. You were just pissed off. He was gone again, longer this time, and he didn’t say how long exactly—just said he wouldn’t be able to call often, might not even text for a while.

And you just stood there, nodding like you were cool with it, like it didn’t already burn in your chest thinking about sleeping alone again.

So yeah. You searched “custom body pillow” that night with your jaw clenched and your arms crossed and your phone brightness on full blast, like that was gonna make it hurt less.

You found a site that let you upload any photo you wanted, and you picked that one—him shirtless, sweaty from a workout, giving you the kind of half-smile that made your stomach flip. He’d sent it to you months ago, and you’d never deleted it. Now it was going to be six feet of print pressed up against you under the blankets every night.

And you didn’t tell him. Of course not. You just tracked the shipping, yanked it out of the box the second it arrived, and dressed it in one of his old oversized tees—your favorite. The one he always pulled on when he got out of the shower, the one he always told you looked better on you than on him. It smelled like him. And now so did the pillow.

You laid it down on his side of the bed, adjusted the angle like a crazy person, and stared at it for way too long before you finally turned the light off. It wasn’t even that it made you feel better. You were just so mad you couldn’t have the real thing. If you had to sleep without him, then fine—you’d make damn sure there was no space in your bed left for anyone else. Not even empty air.

He got back weeks later. He didn’t even text that he was on his way—just showed up, opened the front door, and called your name like nothing had changed.

You were halfway through the hallway when you heard him go completely silent.

“Uh,” he finally said, and it was coming from the bedroom.

You turned the corner and saw him just standing there. Bag on the floor, keys still in one hand, mouth half open like someone had sucker punched him. The pillow was still there, obviously. Front and center. Still wearing his shirt. His face was printed life-sized on it.

“Oh,” you said, like you’d forgotten. Like it hadn’t been your emotional support sleep aid for two straight weeks. “That.”

“That?” he repeated, turning to look at you with full-blown betrayal in his eyes. “That’s what you’ve been sleepin’ with?”

“I didn’t exactly have options,” you said, walking past him to flop down on the bed. “You were gone. It was either this or cry myself to sleep.”

“You could’ve warned me,” he muttered, still staring at it.

You snorted. “Would you have stopped me?”

“…No.”

“Exactly.”

He finally tore his eyes off it and looked at you instead, arms crossed. “What, so I leave for five minutes and you replace me with a bloody pillow?”

“I wouldn’t need a replacement if you didn’t keep running off to fight bad guys every other month,” you said sweetly, patting the spot beside you. “Come on, it’s your turn. Might as well take your place back.”

He just stood there, unmoving. “You seriously slept next to that thing?”

“I did more than sleep,” you grinned.

He groaned. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”

“You jealous?”

“It’s a pillow,” he said, like the word offended him. “I’m not jealous of a fuckin’—”

“I rubbed my face on it every night. Talked to it too. Called it baby. You know, just regular relationship stuff.”

He stared at you, completely deadpan, then looked at the pillow again. “You’re sick in the head.”

You shrugged. “You love it.”

“I love you,” he snapped. “That’s the problem. You get away with this shit.”

You smiled like you’d won something. “You bet your ass I do. And if you ever get deployed without warning me again, I’m printing one of those full cardboard cutouts next. I’ll sit it at the kitchen table. Put it in the shower, even.”

He dragged a hand down his face, muttering something under his breath, and when he looked at you again his eyes were warmer. “You’re insane.”

“You love it,” you said, reaching for him.

He let you pull him toward the bed, finally dropping down beside you with a sigh. You tossed the pillow off to the side and straddled his lap like it was your rightful seat, hands on his chest, your grin smug.

He blinked, breath stuttering just slightly, and you watched the red creep up the tips of his ears as your fingers dragged down the front of his shirt. “You’re not allowed to be hotter than me and then disappear. That’s not fair.”

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ, woman.”

“You missed it,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “You missed me.”

“I really did.”

“Good,” you whispered, nose brushing his. “So don’t leave again.”

He kissed you hard, all tongue and teeth. “Make me.”

“Oh, I plan to.”

------------------------------------------

i just can't with these two

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @bunnyxiis

[kxsagi]

Omg I ran here as soon as I woke up because I’ve got ideas!!!!

I even left this in my notes app but:

https://youtube.com/shorts/nUb7dVadJYA?si=I2ameWw30paQmV8W

But like this with bllk boys??? Or just a one shot with anyone? This is like a friends to lovers thing 😩😩 gonna combust from this because literally (I know it’s an ad but still eienfiejwkdndj)

Anyways sorry for the rant I missed your inbox 🫶🫶

“𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬… 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬?”

a/n: leaving it in your notes app is true dedication 😭 I LOVE THIS REQUEST

ft. isagi yoichi, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, kaiser michael, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, karasu tabito, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

you’re sitting in his lap. like it’s nothing. like it’s a chair. 

he just taps his knee like “seat’s open” and you go “sweet, thanks” and proceed to text like you’re not in each other’s personal space. 

he literally feeds you from his bowl at restaurants. you just open your mouth without looking. he doesn’t even question it. 

calls you “love” to mess with you but keeps doing it because “haha it’s funny right? unless…?” 

once you yawned and he stretched his arms around you at the same time. didn’t move them. you didn’t move either. you were like “comfy.” 

everyone thinks you’re dating. you guys are like “nooo we’re besties!” but you wear his hoodies and he kisses your forehead when you’re sad. 

shidou ryusei

“you’re literally obsessed with me.” 

“shut up, i am not.” 

proceeds to send him 3 memes, 5 tik toks, and a voice note that ends in giggling. 

has you saved in his phone as “wifey 💍💥” and you never changed it. 

shidou: “lemme see your tits.” 

you: “get me coffee first.” 

shidou: “deal.” 

gets the coffee and completely forgets about the bit. 

he always leans on you, touches your hair, lays his head in your lap. says you give off “emotional support pet” vibes. you’re like “that’s so rude” while playing with his hair. 

once slapped your ass after a game and was like “good job out there, champ 😌” 

you: “thanks babe 😘” 

cue both of you turning pink and pretending it didn’t happen. 

nagi seishiro

you share a bed. literally just knock out next to each other like it’s nothing. 

he grabs your waist when he’s gaming so you won’t move from beside him. sometimes rests his chin on your shoulder. 

one time you changed in front of him and he didn’t even blink. “bro, we’ve been friends since puberty. what haven’t i seen?” 

he calls you “princess” or “pretty thing” when you whine about stuff. it should be illegal how casual he makes it sound. 

nags you to cuddle him. “ugh you’re so annoying,” you say, while spooning him. 

once said “you’d probably make a good girlfriend” while half-asleep. you said “you’d make a horrible boyfriend” and he just chuckled and went “true.” 

kaiser michael

he grabs your face to check your makeup and says “you’re cute today.” you say “just today?” 

he goes “so you do like compliments from me.” 

you both flirt like it’s a sport. your friends have bets on who will fold first. 

you steal his cologne. he wears the bracelet you made at a craft fair. it’s blue. you don’t question it. 

the way he picks lint off your clothes and goes “my standards are higher than this.” you respond by poking your tongue at his cheek. 

has said “if we’re both still single by 30–” 

you: “we’ll be married?” 

kaiser: “no, i’ll cry myself to sleep every night.” 

you: “same.” 

he gets jealous when you flirt with others but masks it with sarcasm. you’re like “jealous much?” and he’s like “you wish. i’m just protective of my property– i mean friend.” 

bachira meguru

you’re always touching in some way. pinkies linked, arms around each other, knees bumping. 

he sends you selfies captioned “for my #1 fan 😘” and you reply “hottt. send more.” 

once made a “fake dating” joke and he was like “you’d like that huh?” and you were like “maybe i would” and then you both went silent for 10 minutes. 

draws hearts next to your name when doodling. you steal his hoodie and he acts like you just confessed. 

people flirt with him and he immediately goes “haha sorry i have a soulmate” and points at you. you do the same. 

one time he accidentally said “i love you” mid-laugh. you blinked. he blinked. 

“… cool lol.” 

“lol yeah.” 

itoshi rin

you know him too well. like dangerously well. 

he doesn’t have to say “i’m cold.” you just hand him your jacket. 

he glares at anyone who tries to hit on you and says “they’re not your type.” 

you: “what is my type then?” 

rin: deadpan “me.” 

“you look like shit,” he says. 

“you still like me though,” you reply. 

he doesn’t deny it. 

he lets you touch his hair. his hair. 

you once called him “baby” by accident and he just responded like it was normal. 

he only softens up around you. other people don’t recognize him when he’s being your rin. 

sometimes stares at you a little too long. you catch him. he looks away and mutters “shut up.” 

itoshi sae

you two look like enemies. emotionless stare vs sarcastic sighs. 

but then he wordlessly unties your hoodie strings because “you looked stupid.” 

texts you “.” when he wants attention. if you don’t answer, he sends “?” 

you call him “baby girl” in public just to piss him off. 

he flips you off. still lets you play with his hair later. 

he’ll literally insult your taste in music then send you a playlist titled “stuff you’d like.” 

“you look gross.” 

“thanks. it’s your shirt.” 

he says nothing because it actually is. 

you fell asleep on him once during a flight. he pretended to be annoyed but didn’t move for four hours. 

when you woke up, he just said “you drooled on me.” (but his phone has a picture of it. it’s his lock screen.)

karasu tabito

you flirt like it’s aggressive sparring. 

“you missed me?” 

“like i’d miss a rash.” 

constantly holds your chin when talking to you. it’s his way of annoying you. but your face gets warm every time and he lives for it. 

he’s always like “if we kissed right now, would it ruin the friendship?” 

you: “yeah.” 

him: “... worth it.” 

texts you “u up?” and then sends you a picture of your worst fashion crimes with the caption “jail.” 

you once dared him to kiss you “as a joke.” 

he did. it lasted too long. you were like “... weird.” 

him: “yup. wanna do it again?” 

he gives you a piggyback ride in public and then tells everyone you’re his emotional support gremlin. but no one else is allowed to say that but him. 

ness alexis

you once said “love you” before hanging up. he said “love you more” with no hesitation. 

you choked. he was unbothered. 

compliments you constantly and never acts like it’s weird. “you look gorgeous today.” 

you: “you said that yesterday.” 

him: “because it’s still true?” 

buys you matching things like mugs, necklaces, keychains. tells everyone you’re soulmates. 

when someone asks “are you dating?” he goes “not yet.” 

you laugh. he’s serious. 

always says “good morning beautiful” with a winky face. 

you threaten to block him. then text back “you too 💅” 

once asked you to rate his flirting. 

you: “4/10.” 

ness: “perfect. so you noticed it.” 

gets jealous when you mention other guys. won’t admit it. just messages you “i hope you choke” and then sends a heart. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight - Part 24

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 23 | Series Masterlist | Part 25

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k

Chapter Summary: You're ready for some answers so you can move forward.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of violence and death, threats, tension, talk of assault, obsession, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby and @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Natasha didn't say a word after wrapping up the phone call with her sister. Neither did you. What was there to say? Both of you knew Zemo was outside of the club.  As much as you wanted to confront him, it wouldn't be a smart move. Not alone at least. You needed Bucky. 

How would he react knowing you needed him once again?

“You really should try to rest,” Natasha finally spoke. 

“I can’t,” you whispered. It was too overwhelming, your mind too frantic.

“I know it won't be easy to do so and you rightfully want answers, but just try to relax as best as you can.”

It took a moment, but you curled up on the sofa and tried to quiet your mind. Your eyes drifted to the dahlia painting, remembering Bucky’s words. The man was all about loyalty, and he expected you to be loyal to him. You’d give him that. What choice was there?

“May I ask you something crazy?” you asked.

“The question may be more normal than you think, so shoot,” she answered.

“Do you think I could love Bucky?”

Love was about acceptance and understanding, but your situation wasn’t normal. Would it ever be love or a form of Stockholm Syndrome? Were you doomed to accept it at face value, or could you smooth out the path for both of you?

Natasha considered your question. “I think if anyone could grow to love him, it’s you,” she answered, leaning into the cushion herself. “But it should be on your terms, not his.”

Neither of you spoke again after that.

You weren’t sure how much time passed when the office door slowly opened. Natasha moved when you sat up, placing herself in front of you. Was she protecting you because of Bucky or was she looking out for you because she wanted to?

“It’s just me. Well, Ray and Steve are here, too,” Bucky announced, stepping further into the room. Ray and Steve hung back by the door, but both of them looked at you with concern.

Was everyone going to treat you like a porcelain doll ready to break? To be fair, it wasn’t that long ago since your attack. You would’ve looked at anyone else the same way. 

You took in the sight of Bucky once Natasha moved completely out of the way. Gone was his jacket, his hair a mess. Had he changed his shirt? Your eyes searched his and you found lingering darkness lurking. The tension in his shoulders didn’t bode well either. 

He either didn’t get the answers he was looking for or something was still wrong.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” he asked.

“No,” you answered, giving him room so he could sit beside you. “Did you lose yourself?”

“Not completely. I told you I had you to come back to,” he replied, brushing a kiss to your forehead before looking over his shoulder. “Give us a minute.”

Natasha hesitated. “Zemo is-”

“Outside, I know,” Bucky interrupted, a slight edge to his voice. “Just give us a minute.”

Ray held the door open, silently ordering Natasha to leave. You managed a small smile for her before she left, the shutting of the door sealing more of your fate. “Bucky, what-”

His arms nearly crushed you when he pulled you in for a hug, his face buried in your neck to inhale your scent. Just as quickly as he grabbed you, he released you, like he suddenly remembered what you had gone through earlier and that the sudden touch may have frightened you. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“What?” you asked, telling yourself to relax. He wasn’t going to hurt you.

“He wanted to take you away from me. From your home,” he whispered. You took his hand to inspect it, half expecting to see blood. “You don’t have to worry about me. I cleaned myself up a bit, and I’m fine,” he added.

You hummed, thankful for that as your fingers touched his knuckles. Seeing blood on him may have fried your emotions once again. “What do you mean he wanted to take me from my home?”

Bucky gripped your hand when you tried to pull away and explained what Clark told him- How Clark was involved with Zemo and your instinct regarding the drugging of your friends was correct. How Clark intended to take you to Gotham, giving you a way to start over again away from Bucky. It would’ve put you in another cage. 

Steel blue eyes watched you process the information, a featherlight touch on the top of your hand willing you to take a breath. “He was really going to take me away?”

The thought of being ripped away from your friends, your stability, it made your heart ache. As much as the turn of events in your life terrified you, the city was still your home. If anyone would decide when and if you left, it would be you. Except now you didn’t really have a choice since Bucky would dictate when and if you ever left. 

Bucky’s jaw clenched before he nodded. “He was. He thought he’d be your hero,” he said, practically spitting out the last word.

Clark wasn’t a hero. No hero would’ve done what he did. “But my friends are okay? And Lois, she’s okay?” you asked.

The smile on Bucky’s face stretched to his eyes. “How are you so good?” he asked, rhetorically. “I still need the info on what the driver put in the drinks, but it was likely diluted and they should be okay. Lois…” He took a breath. “She isn’t in great shape, but she’s going to get the best care possible.”

You sighed in relief for your friends and Lois, though it hurt to hear that she wasn’t in the best shape, since she didn’t deserve whatever happened to her. “Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered. Lois wasn’t his responsibility, but it meant a lot to you that he wanted to help her heal. Maybe you could meet her, if only to see for yourself that she would be safe and sound. “What about Cl-”

“Don’t say his name, please.,” he gently ordered. “Whatever happens to him after tonight is still his fault.”

You shuddered. So Clark was still alive. For now. “And Zemo? I want to talk to him.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said softly. You were doing your best to control your temper since you knew he was trying to protect you. “You’ve been through a lot, especially tonight.”

“Partially thanks to you,” you reminded him, making him wince. You didn’t mean it as a jab, but he had to keep that in mind. “And this is my life they tried to mess with. I think I’m owed some answers.”

He sighed. “Kotyonok…”

Maybe it was a dirty tactic, but you ran a hand through his hair and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Nothing too extraordinary or forward, but you heard the swift intake of breath. “Please,” you whispered, needing him on your side for this.

“Fine,” he conceded, turning his head to give you a proper kiss. As much as you knew he wanted to deepen it, he stopped himself. “But you’re staying right by my side, and we’ll speak to him in the VIP area. I don’t want him in my office.”

“If that’s what you want.” It was his club, his rules, but it was a small victory that he gave in.

And once the conversation took place, you could finally try to get some sleep.

“Wait,” he said, stopping you from standing. He didn’t hide the vulnerability in his expression when he uttered, “I’m going to earn your love, and I’m not giving up until I have it. Even when I have it, I won’t stop earning it. Or your trust.”

Your mouth fell open. Where had that come from? Had Clark said or done something to get under his skin? 

“I haven’t earned yours,” you said, needing to say something. You saved his mother, sure, and he felt a connection after seeing and hearing you at his club, but that shouldn’t mean that his love and trust should be given so freely.

“You earned it a long time ago, but I haven’t earned yours,” he said easily, helping you to your feet. “I’ll start tonight once we’re home.”

You fell in step beside Bucky, ignoring the gazes of the group in the hall. “Ray, bring Zemo to the VIP area. Have Ari and Jax behind him. Steve, I want you there with us.”

“And what about me? I’m not leaving her,” Natasha said as she followed.

“This isn’t your concern,” Bucky said, tightening his grip on you.

“You made it my concern when you called me. She made it my concern when she asked me to be here,” the redhead argued. “And my sister is the one who followed him, so I think I have a right to stick around.”

“I think she should stay,” you said. Natasha had gone out of her way to be there for you. It only felt right that she knew what was going on. 

Bucky swore under his breath. “Hang back with Ari and Jax and keep your sister from shooting him.”

“I make no promises that she won’t shoot him,” she half teased before Bucky glared over his shoulder. “But she won’t kill him.”

You tried not to tremble once Bucky brought you to the VIP area. It was strange seeing the place lit up, but with no music or a crowd. You could almost picture Addison and your friends there with you, laughing and having a good time. 

Briefly closing your eyes, you allowed Bucky’s touch on your arm to soothe you. “This is where you were sitting when I saw you on camera,” he said. 

“It’s come full circle,” you said. The area would become another place fully tied back to Bucky. Not because he owned it, but because you would talk to Zemo there and it would be a reminder of what happened to you.

“And soon you’ll be with me in my office, keeping me company, making memories together,” he said, happy in spite of the circumstances. 

Steve placed a bottle of water in front of you. How was it that a man as dark as Bucky looked so kind? “Buck thought you’d want bottled water instead of a glass,” he said, giving you a small smile. 

You nodded in understanding. If anyone had brought you a glass, you wouldn’t have seen them pour it and you may have questioned what was in it. It was… thoughtful. “Thanks.”

Your heart beat too loud when you heard footsteps, your next breath ragged when Zemo walked toward you like he owned the place. Though he looked put together and at ease, you detected the slightest bit of discomfort when he looked your way. You took small satisfaction in that.

Bucky held up a hand before Zemo could take a seat or speak to you. “If you have any weapons on you, I suggest you set them on the table,” he said, skipping the pleasantries. 

Gesturing to Ari and Jax, he sighed. “Ms. Belova relieved me of my weapons, and your men did another search themselves,” he said. You couldn’t see Natasha or her sister with the men blocking your view, but you sensed them watching. “Now may I please sit?”

Bucky waited until Ray stood by your side and Steve on his. “As much as I’d like to beat the ever loving shit out of you, we do need to talk, so sit.”

“As much as I know you’d enjoy that, I’m not here to speak to you.” Zemo turned his attention to you once he sat down and carefully removed his gloves. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

You placed a hand on Bucky’s thigh, hoping your touch would keep him grounded. “So, you’re aware of what happened to me?”

“I do not know the details, but I knew something must have happened since I hadn't heard from Clark or the driver. And I thought if I hadn't heard from them that James either figured out my involvement or would find out soon enough,” he explained, relaxing in his seat. “Better to show up and explain my side than wait to be dragged in for questioning.”

It surprised you how easily he gave up that information. “I was attacked,” you stated, avoiding Bucky's gaze.

You didn't expect to see sorrow on Zemo’s face. “Where is he?” he whispered.

“Where do you think?” Bucky asked.

The man nodded. “Though I’m not the one who laid hands on you, I am sorry for encouraging Clark.” He shook his head wearily. “I warned him not to lay a hand on you in harm, but he was not one of my usual men, and I must admit I miscalculated this plan.”

“What was your plan exactly?” you asked. Did it align with Clark's plan?

“I wanted James to lose you,” he replied, stating the obvious. “James knows most of my men and he would've caught on if I sent one of them to spirit you away. I thought Clark was enough of an outsider to stay under the radar and convince you to somehow, some way, walk away from your new boyfriend.”

Of course, it all led back to Bucky. “He broke into my home when I refused to go with him and he attacked me,” you said, proud that your voice didn't crack. 

“He was going to rape her,” Bucky said through his teeth. The rage in his eyes was frightening, so you squeezed his thigh. He had to stay calm. 

If Zemo looked sorrowful moments ago, now he looked sick. He recovered quickly. “You must believe me when I say my intention was never for anyone to attack you.”

“But you still knowingly or unknowingly sent some sort of predator to woo me? That's supposed to make me feel better?” you asked. Did he have any shame?

Zemo sighed. “I fear nothing I say will make you feel better.”

“No, it won’t. Everything that happened is going to stick with me, and your apologies aren’t going to alleviate any of the pain,” you said, breathing a bit easier when Bucky put his hand over yours. “Not to mention, it still doesn’t make any sense to me. He came into the shop once a month and until recently he had a girlfriend. Now he stalks and attacks me? Why?”

Zemo tilted his head, amused by the question. “Why did James stalk you?”

Bucky stiffened under your touch before he began, “That’s not-”

“Clark likes to believe that he isn’t like James or I or any of the other men here, but he isn’t a good man either. He has darkness like so many of us and he didn't need much of a push to go after you.” Zemo shrugged. “Your rejection may have been the final push to bring out his darkness.”

Bucky reached for something in his pocket. “If you’re blaming my girl-”

“I’m doing no such thing,” Zemo promised, his hands raised in surrender.

Bile rose to your throat anyway. “Really? Because it sounds like you’re saying that my rejection drove him to this.” How could he blame you for Clark’s actions?

“Your rejection was a tipping point, but it wasn’t your fault,” he assured you. It didn't make you feel any better. “His facade slipped and he showed you who he really is. It is troublesome that I did not notice how far he would go before you were put in harm's way.”

“Because you let whatever hatred you have for Bucky blind you,” you accused. What other explanation was there?

“Perhaps you are right.” Zemo swallowed, but didn’t spare the man beside you a glance. “But as much as I hate him, I still did not intend for you to get hurt.”

“Why does it matter if I'm hurt?” you asked. It wasn't like any of them cared for your opinion regarding your own life. 

“Because it wasn’t about harming you. I just wanted James to be without you,” he admitted without shame. “I wanted him to lose the thing he cherished the most, that’s all.”

You exhaled. He wanted to destroy Bucky. Not through his club, his money, or anything of that sort. Zemo wanted to destroy him by removing you from the equation. 

“It wouldn't have been enough if I took you myself,” he continued. “No, I wanted him to see you thrive with someone outside of our circle. To show him money and power can't buy him what he so desperately desires. I wanted him to suffer knowing how happy you were without him.”

Bucky audibly exhaled, anger rising in both of you. “That's insane,” you whispered. Another puppet master trying to control the strings of your life. “And you really think that Bucky would have allowed that?!”

Zemo finally looked at the club owner with a blank expression. “I’d like to think James would give you anything that would make you happy. That if you truly found happiness with another man, he would let you go. Even if it killed him.”

You almost crawled into Bucky’s lap when you thought he’d stand up. “There will never be another man,” he gritted.

“He won't let me go. You have to know that,” you said, uncaring of who nearby heard it since they knew the truth anyway. “My freedom is the only thing he won't give me.”

“Is it really love if he won’t let you go?” Zemo asked. 

Bucky made a sound like he got punched. “I love her,” he stated, turning toward you. “I love you.”

“I know,” you whispered. He believed so desperately that he did. “Zemo, even if Bucky let me go, do you really think I could give my heart to someone else knowing he will always watch over me?”

If there was even the slightest chance that you’d ever leave him, you’d forever look over your shoulder and wait for him to drag you back. 

“Bruce Wayne wouldn't let the likes of James into his city,” he said. 

Bucky had mentioned the name Bruce to you in his office. You hoped you never met him. “And if he went to Gotham anyway?”

“I wanted to believe that he would start off watching. That if there was a moment where he could swoop in and take you back he would, but would ultimately resist. That over time, it would hurt him too much to keep his eye on you and he would have eventually let you go.” The smile on his face unnerved you. “Your rejection of Bucky and choosing someone else would destroy him from the inside out. He would fall, and his empire would fall with him because why would he want to rule without you by his side?”

“She isn't rejecting me, and I’m not letting her go. Ever,” Bucky spoke for you, that stark possession shining through. “Our souls are entwined. She’s meant to be with me forever.”

A scowl crossed Zemo’s face. “I loved someone like that once.”

“And you lost her,” you said. He lost his wife, and his child. “If revenge was something you wanted, why not just kill me? An eye for an eye.”

He sighed, picking at one of his gloves. “I thought about killing you with my bare hands. To watch the life leave your eyes,” he said, dispassionately. 

Your eyes widened when Bucky got to his feet and took out a knife. Ray tried to shield you when you jumped up, but you grabbed Bucky’s arm before he could move. “Bucky, please, don’t,” you begged. Hearing that Zemo had wanted to kill you scared you, but he was unarmed and you didn't want more blood shed because of you. 

“Listen to her, Buck,” Steve urged. 

“I’m done talking and listening, and I’m going to slit his fucking throat for even thinking about killing her,” he growled. He was going to kill him if you didn’t stop him. And Zemo… He didn’t move. He didn’t flinch or try to move away. Did he want to die?

“Boss?” Ray questioned. If Bucky ordered it, they would kill him. You had no doubt in your mind.

“Please,” you whispered, putting your hand over his so he’d lower the knife. “He could’ve killed me, but he didn’t. He didn’t even want Clark to put a hand on me,” you pointed out. Zemo’s thoughts shifted at some point. That had to mean something. 

“Because the more I thought about it, I realized that you’re a victim, too. Innocent. Another soul tainted by the Barnes family,” Zemo said, making you think of his family again. They were victims. “Death may set you free from his grasp, but I suspect death is not what you're looking for or what you deserve. Killing you wouldn't have brought me peace either.”

It was clear that he was in a lot of pain and projecting it onto others, but killing you wouldn't have filled the void in his heart. “What happened with your family?” you asked. It wasn’t just collateral damage. It was enough to drive him to this.

“Oh, James didn’t tell you?” The scowl was back on Zemo’s face. 

“She doesn't know the whole story,” Bucky said after a moment. 

Your nails dug into his hand. “You said he blamed some of the men you worked with for what happened.”

“Oh, I do blame them and James because it was their fault. They heard about a deal that I made with some dangerous people that would’ve made us all a lot of money. James didn’t like that, so he tipped off the police.” You could see Bucky and Steve hang their heads briefly out of the corner of your eye and Ray blinked a few times, but their shame didn’t lessen the fury in Zemo’s eyes. “For retaliation, these men took something priceless from me- my wife and child. And they didn't just take them. They made them suffer before they died.”

Tears filled your eyes. You couldn’t help it. It was an innocent woman and child. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are.” He looked touched, but it didn't outweigh his anger. “But you see, if James didn't call in that tip and his men hadn't informed him of the deal in the first place, my family would still be alive.”

You glanced around through your tears. No one spoke, but you saw the guilt. And it made sense why Bucky said they were lost in a deal gone wrong, but he left his part in it out of the story. Was it to protect you or himself? “They didn't deserve what happened to them,” you said. No one deserved that. 

Zemo blinked, erasing the ghosts behind his eyes. “No, they didn’t. And I can’t change the past or bring them back.”

“Neither can I,” Bucky said, touching your cheek. He looked hesitant, like you’d hate him for this. “I should’ve told you the whole story. I’m sorry for that.”

But Bucky hadn’t. He hadn't lied, but he hadn't told you everything. It was another hurdle to get across. “So, where do we go from here?” you asked. You weren’t going to continue to be a pawn in their game. 

Bucky still had his knife out. “I want to kill him, but I can’t,” he said, grinding his teeth. You raised an eyebrow. That would be another conversation for later, but you suspected it had to do with their shady politics or whatever they dealt in. “But I also can’t let this go.”

“You want to retaliate,” Zemo said. 

“Yes,” Bucky said. He wanted blood. You could practically smell it. 

“No. No retaliation,” you said, looking at all of the men. “I mean it.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared, but one more glance at you and he nodded. “No retaliation for now.”

“I’m in your debt,” Zemo said not to Bucky, but to you. It surprised you to say the least. “Name your price.”

All eyes were on you and it made you feel faint. You couldn’t be weak since you were in this world now. “You paid the driver to turn on Bucky?” you asked, waiting for him to nod. “Whatever you paid him, I want you to double the amount and donate it to the hospital. The wing that Winifired Barnes stayed in.”

Bucky inhaled, gazing at you like he fell in love all over again. “Kotyonok,” he said thickly.

“And Lois, Clark’s ex-girlfriend. I want you to cover her medical expenses, and throw in a little extra so she can recover in peace once she’s out,” you said. It was the least the woman deserved. 

“Done,” Zemo agreed, a smile touching his lips. “Is there anything else? Perhaps your own flower shop? The things you asked for aren’t for you, but for others.”

“Because that’s the kind of person she is,” Bucky proudly said, slipping an arm around you. “And if anyone’s going to get her her own shop, it’s me.”

“Please, stop with the dick measuring contest,” you said. Even when it was about you, they made it about themselves. Regardless, the truth was you didn’t want anything from Zemo, except for him to leave you be. “Just leave Bucky and me alone, and anyone close to me. If you two have to work together, fine, but don’t interfere with our lives,” you said. 

“And that’s it?” he asked. 

“That’s it,” you replied. You didn't need much, but you deserve a bit of peace from one of Bucky’s enemies. 

“You have my word.” Zemo slipped his gloves back on and stood up. If he didn't keep his word, you were sure Bucky would make him pay. “But I still owe you a debt. When you’re ready to cash in, James can tell you how to get in touch with me.”

Bucky finally put his knife away. “I still want to kill you and I still have questions for you,” he said. You should’ve known he wouldn’t be satisfied, but at least no blood was shed in front of you. “Because you had no right to go after my girl.”

“Be thankful she’s still alive and beside you,” he said with subtle longing. “Truce? Perhaps we can talk next week and bury the hatchet for good? No retaliation. You agreed.”

Bucky didn't offer his hand. Just a smile without any semblance of warmth. “Next week,” he said, his fist flying before you could blink. You gasped when Zemo stumbled back and clutched his jaw. It took him a moment to straighten up, a mark already forming on his face as he lowered his hand. He didn't look at all surprised by the punch, and he was lucky his jaw wasn't broken. “Now get the fuck out of my club.”

“I appreciate your compassion, and I look forward to your call one day,” Zemo smiled at you through the pain. “I truly am sorry for what transpired,” he added in a sincere tone. 

You nodded, not accepting or rejecting the apology, and slowly exhaled while Jax and Ari led him away. He hadn't gotten his revenge, but at least it was over. You had answers. Maybe you’d sleep easier. 

Maybe not. 

You finally spotted Natasha in the distance standing beside a blonde woman. That must be Yelena. And neither of them looked impressed as they stared after the man who put Clark in your path. 

“You sure I can't kill him?” Yelena asked. 

“I appreciate the offer, Yelena, but not today,” Bucky said, turning toward you. Why did he look nervous? Was he expecting you to scream? Hit him? “Are you okay?”

You buried your face in his chest before you could stop yourself, and he took the opportunity to hold you against him. Were you okay? No. But you’d heal. You had to. “I will be.”

But was it really the end of Zemo? What kind of favor would he do for you? Would you take him up on any sort of offer after everything?

“I’m sorry, too. For all of this,” he whispered low enough for only you to hear. “But now we can move forward together.”

Bucky sounded like he wanted to close this chapter and move on, but it wasn't up to him to turn the page. It was your decision. “I might stumble along the way.”

“I'll catch you,” he promised, pulling away and taking your hand. “Are you ready to go home?”

You weren't sure if you’d ever be ready, but you had to believe this chapter of your life was over. Zemo would leave you alone. Clark wouldn't hurt anyone else. It had to be enough for today. 

You could figure out the next step tomorrow. 

“Sure,” you whispered, letting Bucky lead you away. “Let’s go home.”

A moment to breathe. Maybe? I view this as an ending (not the story, I wouldn't do that to you lovelies) and a beginning. Eager to hear what you think will happen going forward! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[inkedinshadows]

And Soon They Were Three

Pairing: Cassian x f!reader

Summary: You're waiting for Cassian to come back home and give him news that will change your lives.

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Main masterlist | Week Masterlist | Cassian Masterlist | AO3

@sjmxreaderweek

You were fidgety, unable to keep your hands still for more than a minute. If you sat down and tried to calm yourself, all it took was a quiet sound—a leaking faucet, a bird singing outside, hurried steps on the street—and you were up and on the move again. Every noise made you think Cassian was about to open the door and walk in, even though you knew it wasn't him.

He'd told you the night before that he would leave early and come back late. He was already gone when you woke up, but a blueberry muffin was waiting for you on the kitchen table, like every time he had to leave before you got up. He still refused to tell you where he got them from.

But that morning, the usual delicious fragrance made you race to the bathroom before you could even step into the kitchen. Fortunately, it passed quickly, and you dared to attempt a bite, only to devour the muffin once you realized you felt fine. It was your favorite flavor, after all.

The day went by quickly, yet not quickly enough. You had an appointment with Madja in the morning, and since then, you had been counting down the minutes until Cassian's return.

You cleaned the whole house, but it wasn't enough to dim your excitement. You tried to read, but you couldn't focus on the words and had to reread the same page four times before you gave up and opted for a stroll along the Sidra. It didn't help much, though, and you spent the rest of the afternoon alternating between pacing aimlessly and sitting for only a few seconds at a time until you decided you might as well start making dinner.

Right at that moment, you heard the click of a key turning in the lock and the front door opened.

“Sweetheart, I'm…”

You didn't give Cassian time to even finish the sentence before you raced out of the kitchen and straight into his arms.

“...home,” he finished with a chuckle as he hugged you back. He kissed the top of your head. “Hello, sweetheart. Did I miss something? Or are you just really happy to see me?”

You pulled back, a large smile plastered on your face. “I have to tell you something.”

Cassian lifted his brows. He took in your expression and the excitement that seemed to radiate off you in waves.

“Well,” he said with his usual confident, charming smile, “at least I know it's good news.”

At your enthusiastic nod, he gave you a questioning look. “Are you going to tell me or…?”

He left the question hanging, and you immediately grabbed his hand and guided him to the couch. “I think you'll want to sit down for this.”

You could sense his growing curiosity as he sat on the edge of the couch.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “So what is it?”

You stood in front of him, and suddenly, all the ways you had planned to give him the news were gone, completely forgotten, as you blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

Cassian stared at you for a moment, then his eyes slowly widened. “Wait, what?”

You had thought of different puns and jokes to tell him and let him figure it out on his own, but it was too late now. You only nodded and repeated it, a wide grin on your face. “I’m pregnant, Cass.”

His shocked expression was soon replaced by a huge smile, as if hearing it again was all he needed to truly understand what you were saying, to be sure that you weren’t just messing with him.

He lunged forward, almost tackling you to the ground in the process of wrapping his arms around you and spinning you around. His boisterous laugh rang loud in your ears, but you could only laugh with him.

“I’m going to be a father!” He peppered your face with kisses, his stubble tickling your skin. “Can you believe it, sweetheart? We’re going to be parents!”

You were about to answer that no, you couldn’t believe it. Madja had confirmed it that morning, and though you had been—and still were—overjoyed, it still didn’t feel real. After all the time spent trying, it was finally happening.

But Cassian's excitement had reached a whole new level. He didn't give you time to respond as he set you back on your feet—your head slightly dizzy—and a moment later, he was at the window. He yanked it open and leaned out, his wings folded but still as wide as the frame.

“I'm going to be a father!” he shouted to the world outside. “My mate's pregnant! We're going to be parents!”

“Cass…” you chuckled, eyes soft and heart full as you watched your mate shout his joy to anyone passing by.

“What?” He turned back to you and in just two long strides, he was at your side again. He cupped your face and pressed a loud kiss to your lips before pulling you into his arms. “Oh, this is wonderful! Parents, sweetheart. Can you believe it?”

You covered the broad hand he’d placed over your still-flat stomach with yours.

A baby. There was a baby slowly growing inside you right as you stood there—one you and Cassian had created, one you had wished and waited for, for so long. And now, in just a few months, the wait would be over, and you would finally be able to hold your baby. Your child.

The more you repeated it in your head, the more it began to feel real.

“Barely,” you finally answered. You looked up at him, meeting his loving gaze as you both smiled. “I’ve never seen you this happy, my love.”

He seemed to almost vibrate with joy, and he was more beautiful than ever. Your mate, your love—and soon, the father of your child.

“Of course I am,” he replied instantly. “We’ve wanted a child for so long, and now the Mother has blessed us with one.”

Taking a step back, he knelt in front of you. His hands settled on your hips, and he leaned in close, lips brushing against your shirt.

“Do you know that, little one?” he murmured. “We can't wait for you to arrive.”

Your heart was so full of love for the male in front of you that it felt like it might burst. There couldn't possibly be enough space in your chest, or in your whole body, to contain all of it.

“Cass…” you said quietly. You buried your fingers in his hair, gently stroking it as tears welled in your eyes. “I don't think the baby can hear you yet.”

Cassian shrugged. “I don't care. I want them to know that they are already loved.”

His mouth was so close to your shirt that you could feel his warm breath through the thin fabric as he added, “You hear that? Mama and Dada already love you, little one.”

He lifted the hem of your shirt, just enough to press a kiss to your bare stomach before rising again. His grin faltered when he noticed the tears now rolling down your cheeks, but you smiled at him.

You looped your arms around him and leaned up to kiss him. It was gentle, tender, an attempt to show him just how much he and this moment meant to you, though you knew no words or gesture could ever be enough.

“I love you,” you murmured when you pulled back and rested your head on his chest. “You're going to be a great father.”

His arms wrapped around you, squeezing you against him. You felt his lips press to your temple, then your hair.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered as he tucked you under his chin. “And I'll try. I'll try to be the best father I can for our child. I promise.”

You wanted to tell him that he didn't need to promise anything, that he didn't even need to try. He was already so good with children. He'd be even better with his own.

But the words slipped away.

All you could do was breathe in the moment and let the realization slowly settle.

You were pregnant. You were going to have a baby. You were about to have the family you and Cassian had always dreamed of.

You'd have to tell your families, you knew that. And the next months wouldn't be perfect or easy. But for now, you could just enjoy the beginning of this journey with the person you loved the most.

You snuggled closer to Cassian, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent—the one you had come to associate not just with him, but with home. He held you tighter, his heartbeat a steady, soothing rhythm against your ear.

The two of you stood in the middle of the living room—a home that would soon be filled with even more love.

*lovely divider by @slytherin-pen

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34 @yesiamthatwierd @lreadsstuff @littlest-w01f

[catcake24]

A Butler and the Villainness

(This is only a first draft FYI, just wanted to post it while I was still thinking about it.)

Lady Nightshade has never been the same since the day her carriage crashed.

It was an accident, no proof of sabotage, but Hawthorne would not have been surprised if there had been. Miss Nightshade was hated by all who knew her, from the village she tormented to the other nobles who only tolerated her egotistical behaviour and cruel indulgences due to her family’s wealth and influence. But even then, she had lost much of it over time from her behaviour.

Despite it all though, Hawthorne could never leave her. The late Nightshades, decent enough people, had been born into their wealth yet used it well. They lifted him from a mere homeless veteran into their butler who they considered a close friend, and he wanted to repay all the debts he owed them, and thus their daughter after their deaths.

She had been raised in the lap of luxury, and with the sudden passing of her parents at a young age, she only had governesses and distant family members to raise her. It was hard on her, and Hawthorne could see how it twisted the spoiled young girl into the monster they all knew. It was no excuse for her poor behaviour, but Hawthorne felt like he needed to stay by her side even as she squandered all the privilege she was gifted.

But after that crash, she had changed. She had a few days of confusion after, which the doctor explained as mild hysteria after such a head injury, but soon her personality had been completely changed even as she regained her footing in this world.

Lady Nightshade spent many of her days within the library, gobbling up all she could find despite never being a lover of books before. Some days, Hawthorne had to bring meals to the giant room just to remind her to eat, and the maids often had to ask her to bathe if she got too lost in her new studies. It was annoying but compared to the menace she was to the staff before, no one minded. She even thanked them every time they helped her, or when she asked for a meal it was meek and spoken like she could get one herself if she chose – which was madness for a lady of her standing.

She started apologising to those she had wronged within the village, and those at her school. Other young lads and ladies she had once tormented were often invited to play croquet or for lavish meals during a celebration. She gave out gold coins to young children who asked nicely, and those who didn’t merely got a silver or bronze coin.

Soon, Lady Nightshade had become the most generous donor in their town – tipping well to any service she received from them and only showed the utmost respect.

Even political enemies she had made started to soften, as she apologised and gave all she could when she could.

She also strangely took up new hobbies, such as gardening and hunting for sport. She even insisted on gutting some of the animals she caught, like her father once did. She looked disgusted by the prospect, but insisted she was shown anyways or even brought a book to instruct herself.

And the strangest habit was how she treated Hawthorne himself. Whenever he brought her tea, she insisted that he bring the tea bag separately and inspected the water beforehand. She was always careful around him, hesitant to have him be near her or to be behind her. Like he was a threat, an idea which punctured his heart at the thought of. What had he done to make her so distrustful of him, he didn’t know.

But even so, grudges did not die so easily.

Some forgave her, but a young woman refused to – bright blonde hair and electric blue eyes, she was a peasant who was ruined by Lady Nightshade, according to her, and would never overlook that with her new kindness. The men she attracted, princes and nobles of high influence, listened to the woman, and insisted she was not to be trusted – that this was all a farce, something even Hawthorne couldn’t completely deny. Soon she was made an outcast despite her generosity, with only a few staying by her and even fewer doing so for more than how they could use her.

Her generosity itself also didn’t go unpunished, as vultures just as well off as her started coming to their door and begging for help, saying they would be ruined if she did not, and the newly bleeding heart lady couldn’t reject their pleas. They were wealthy beyond measure, but she had to meticulously plan their collections to make sure she could afford to fund all the projects and people she could. It was like she did not care for herself anymore, only for others, and yet they only sought to take advantage.

Even the peasants who she tried to help and even mingle with during festivals still side eyed her, and often spoke in hushed whispers about how she must be hiding her true nature.

Lady Nightshade tried to bear it all with a smile, but Hawthorne could still hear the cries from her study some nights.

One night, despite the fact he was just about to take off his gloves and retire for the day, he heard her crying and couldn’t leave her there.

He took out the tea set, and resisted the urge to prepare it himself. He could tell the tea the Lady made was always over steeped, yet she always insisted on making it herself, and so he complied and set the tea aside separately and prepared milk and sugar.

Balancing it on one hand, easy for a well trained and old butler like him, he knocked on her door. She didn’t seem to hear though, and as he was about to announce his presence, he heard her talking through the door.

“Why?!” She cried, hiccupping. “I did everything right, so why am I still getting the bad end? Why does she still hate me, I’ve done all I could!”

His brow furrowed, confused by her language. She made it sound like she knew what was happening, and desperately wanted it to stop. “This isn’t fair,” she sniffled, “I don’t want to die.”

He had to sit with that proclamation for a moment, shocked by it.

Many had troubles with her, but most were minor now. Even those she had horribly offended like the king had given her another chance and had only seen change from her, so why would she think she was going to die?

Unless… the peasant girl threatened her?

Steeling himself, he knocked again, speaking up, “My Lady, I have tea for you. May I enter?” He said.

She made a surprised noise, there was some shuffling, before she told him to come in.

There were tear stains on her face, which was flushed from crying, and she was trying to wipe away her makeup with a handkerchief. She wasn’t sitting perfectly lady like, legs spread and wearing pants of all things, but he did not say anything – these were her quarters after all, and many had strange habits when they were alone. Part of being a butler was seeing these vulnerable moments sometimes.

As he served her though, he could only think that maybe he should keep his musket and bayonet nearby, in case of any attacks in the night.

His lady was still not perfect, but he made a promise to her parents.

At one time, before the crash, he was feeling his resolve slowly chip away over the years. He might’ve been just a few years away from quitting or letting the woman reap was she had sewn. But no longer.

She was a changed woman, however the carriage crash changed her. She wouldn’t dare harm even a fly and had done everything within her power to make the world better – even more than her parents did.

His resolve was restored, and he would never betray Lady Nightshade no matter how many riches were offered.

(The idea of this was that the butler originally betrayed the villainness, with a few different ways depending on the ending of the original game, and so Lady Nightshade was kind of terrified of Hawthorne. If I made this into an actual longer story, it would probably have her slowly come to trust him and even see him as a male parental figure, and the same with seeing her as his daughter. I hope this came across well enough.

Also I went with the idea that fate is still pushing her towards a bad ending for her, with things still going wrong even as she tries to do good or from before she was isekaied, but some things have completely changed like Hawthorne defending her not betraying her.)

A butler notices his lady of the house has changed—meek and kind instead of evil. One day, he overhears her crying: "Why?! I did everything right, so why the bad end?! This isn't fair... I don't want to die."

[excusemyobsessions]

LaDS boys when you get home after one of those days

Each of the boys x You/Reader

Genre: Scenario, Fluff, Gender neutral (requested) Scenario: Bullet points regarding each one of the boys and what they'd do for you when you get home after a long, stressful day Word count: About 120-140 for each one, 700 words total

Little note: Yes, I need them too, I feel you.

Warning: use of pet names (pips (Caleb), sweetie (Sylus))

It was one of those days. You're absolutely exhausted by the time you drag yourself home after a very long day.

When you put your key to the door, all you want is the comfort of your home, and him.

Caleb

It smells divine when you set foot in the house.

He's on you seconds after you close the door. He helps you take off your jacket.

“I'm home.”

“Welcome home, pips.”

Waits for you to step out of your shoes and then proceeds to kiss all over your face like it's been weeks since he last saw you. 

He smells of body wash and clean laundry and spices and there was no other place you'd rather be than in his arms.

“Dinner is almost ready. I made your favorite,” he tells you.

You're urged off to go shower, change your clothes, whatever you want. He assures you he'll still be there when you come back.

Zayne

Soft jazz music drifts in the room as you set foot in the house. It's playing at a low, soothing tone.

Zayne greets you in the fluffiest cardigan.

“I'm home.”

“Welcome home.”

He presses a kiss to your temple when you meet halfway. You notice his tie draped over the back of the sofa, the top few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned.

You can tell he's tired by the curve of his shoulders. Is there ever a time Zayne isn't overworked?

“I picked up dinner on the way home. It's from that old restaurant near the hospital we liked. Let's eat?”

He sets up everything on the dining room table.

You sit very close and eat together, gentle little touches galore.

Xavier

He's waiting for you like a puppy. The second you're home, he hovers over.

“I ordered take out, it should be here any minute,” he tells you. He knows how you're (*unnecessarily*) distressed every time he tries to cook. He decided against stressing you further.

Urges you off to go change into something more comfortable. You hear the doorbell ring while you're halfway through slipping into one of his big, comfy hoodies.

You find him on the couch, waiting for you, with that one dish and desert you've been craving.

You're wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and you eat face to face, your legs draped over and his.

He listens to your concerns closely, those big eyes of his on you the whole time, oh so earnest.

Rafayel

He's waiting for you to get home to sweep you up and drag you into the shower. He didn't even change out of his clothes when he got home.

He tells you dinner is in the oven, don't worry.

“We're having pie for dinner. Seafood pie, don't look at me like that.”

Picks up on the slightest twitch in your eyebrows, the subconscious barely even there pout.

“Though I did think we could have some sweet, fruit pie for dessert. Would you like that? Great minds think alike, huh? We'll order some later.”

He washes your hair for you, massages your scalp deliciously, takes away the tension on your shoulders with his gentle fingers.

Times the oven time so perfectly you're finishing up drying your hair when the timer on his phone goes off.

You eat in your bathrobes, fluffy and warm.

Sylus

Insists on having you over at his place. Not the base. One of his houses, your favorite one. Just the two of you.

“I ran you a hot bath, sweetie.”

Tells you to take your time, sends you off with the sweetest kiss to the top of your head.

You find him in the kitchen when you're done.

He cooks dinner while you cling to him like a koala. He doesn't mind.

There's a record playing as he cooks and he hums the whole time, completely out of tune but you wouldn't have it any other way.

When you sit on the high counter, he listens to you go off about your day as you eat the most delicious meal.

The oven plings and lord and behold, he baked your favorite treat too.

If you're a crier, I can definitely see you crying a few happy, overwhelmed with love tears. He catches every single one of them.

[bjlipss]

— bug, part ii.

contents: college!sukuna x weird!reader. weird as in just odd and confusing behaviour but nonetheless cute, nothing pervy-weird. reader wears glasses because yes. really awkward and silly hehe

part i <- part ii -> part iii

day 2.

he figures it’s a one-time thing.

a glitch in the matrix. some weird campus cryptid latched onto him for ten minutes and then slithered back into whatever art building crawlspace you crawled out of.

he doesn’t even think about you again. not really.

not until the next afternoon.

he’s cutting across the east courtyard this time. earbuds in. hoodie up. gym bag slung over his shoulder like a threat. the sun’s too bright, his hangover’s kicking in, and someone spilled smoothie on the locker room bench this morning—so now his favorite hoodie smells like artificial strawberries and spite.

he’s halfway to the library steps, scowl already locked and loaded, when he hears it.

that same soft, off-key hum. buggy and breathy, like it’s being piped through a tin can.

he stops mid-step, completely still.

his playlist fades under the sound, like the world’s being tuned to your specific radio frequency.

no way. no fucking way.

slowly—too slowly, like a man turning to face a monster in a horror movie—he cranes his neck.

and there you are.

sitting under the big oak tree like it’s a throne made just for you.

same enormous sweatshirt swallowing your frame. same huge glasses slipping down your nose. bandaid still on your neck, but now there’s a little cartoon worm doodled on it in purple pen. legs swinging rhythmically like a little kid at the doctor’s office. there’s a juice box next to you—grape, he thinks—and you’re peeling a banana in slow motion. reverent.

you’re also staring directly at him.

unblinking.

he blinks once. then again.

you tilt your head.

he scowls.

“…are you fucking stalking me?”

“no,” you chirp, like this is a completely reasonable situation. “you’re just really easy to find.”

you tap your temple. “i have a sukuna sense.”

his jaw flexes. he’s genuinely not sure if you’re kidding or if you’ve genuinely installed some sort of psychic sukuna-tracker in your skull.

“stop saying weird shit.”

you pat the space next to you on the bench. casual. like this is a sitcom and you’re inviting your reluctant co-star to deliver his lines.

he doesn’t move. just glares.

you pat it again.

smile wider this time. not creepy—just patient. like you’re confident he’ll get tired eventually and choose to be around you.

“you’re not my friend,” he mutters.

“yet,” you say cheerfully, and punctuate it with a loud slurp from your juice box.

he stares at you like you’re an invasive species.

then snorts, half in disbelief, and stomps off without another word.

he doesn’t look back, not even once.

but the weird thing is—he’s not as annoyed as he should be.

day 3.

he’s at his locker. post-lift. sore, sweaty, halfway dead. earbuds in, head down. all he wants is a protein bar and a goddamn nap.

he spins the dial, opens the door—

—and three red skittles roll out and clatter onto the floor.

he freezes.

so do the guys around him.

one of them snorts. another mutters, “yo, what the hell?”

but sukuna doesn’t move. just stares at the skittles like they’re a warning. or a bomb.

he crouches, picks one up between his thumb and forefinger. there’s a tiny smiley face drawn on it in ink. the lines are a little shaky. probably drawn in a rush.

he grits his teeth. he doesn’t even like candy.

he glances down the hallway instinctively. doesn’t see you. doesn’t hear you. but something in the air feels off. staticky.

he tosses the skittle into his bag and slams the locker shut a little harder than necessary.

the next two he keeps in his palm.

he doesn’t know why.

day 4.

today he changes his route entirely. cuts around the humanities building. skirts the edge of the quad like it’s lava. ditches his usual corner table at the library and slinks into the back of the dining hall, behind a dusty fake ficus that smells like cheap plastic and desperation.

finally. finally.

no bug. no hum. no weird banana rituals or unsolicited commentary.

he grabs a tray, sits down, and pulls out his phone. opens it to scroll aimlessly. silence surrounds him.

for thirty blissful seconds.

then—

“hi.”

he flinches. audibly. jerks his head up so fast he nearly knocks over his drink.

you’re standing in front of him.

holding a tupperware container. it has a sticker on the lid that says “this is NOT poison” with a smiley face next to it.

“…how the fuck do you keep finding me?”

you blink innocently. “i told you. sukuna sense.”

he glares. “you are not funny.”

you shrug. “not trying to be.”

you pop the lid open and hold it out. inside: a peanut butter sandwich. no crusts. cut into the shape of a bat. it’s kind of ugly, if he’s honest, but also strangely… deliberate.

“it’s a snackrifice,” you say. “in exchange for your continued tolerance.”

he opens his mouth. ready to tell you to take it and leave. to stop harassing him. to go find a new person to haunt.

but the crusts are cut off and it smells kinda good.

he snatches it from your hands like a feral raccoon and mutters, “you’re so fucking weird.”

you beam and plop down across from him. he doesn’t kick you out. he eats the sandwich in silence.

day 5.

he gets to class early. because he has to. he’s not going to sit in the back like some loser just because you’ve wormed your way into his territory.

but when he walks in—you’re already in his seat.

you’re humming. chewing on a pen labeled penjamin in sparkly marker.

there’s a tiny paper crane perched next to your notes. it has googly eyes stuck on it and what looks like a cape made from a gum wrapper.

he stops in the aisle. glares at you. hard.

you look up. blink once.

and then calmly pat the seat beside you.

he stares. you pat again.

he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between a growl and a sigh, and drops his bag onto the floor with a thud.

sits beside you.

you don’t say anything. just grin like a cat who’s claimed a sunbeam. your knee bumps his under the table.

he tells himself not to react.

he fails.

day 6.

you don’t show up.

he notices immediately. not consciously—but something feels off. like the sound in the world is too clear. too unbothered.

he walks across the courtyard. eyes skim the oak tree. it’s empty. the bench is cold.

he tells himself that’s good. peaceful.

but then he lingers by the vending machines. glances around the quad. checks his locker twice.

finally, right before his next class, he opens the locker again.

and finds it.

a sticky note, crooked and half-folded, clinging to the inside wall. your handwriting is messy and weirdly round:

can’t bug you today. sick. dying probably. rip me. save me a seat. ps: don’t eat skittles from strangers. except me. i’m trustworthy.

underneath is a tiny doodle of a skull with glasses. and… a cape?

he stares at it for a long moment.

then slowly, carefully, peels it off and folds it into his hoodie pocket.

his hand stays there longer than it needs to. just in case.

—

after that, he doesn’t try to shake you anymore.

he eats lunch on the quad, and you’re there.

he waits for practice in the locker room hallway, and you’re there, too.

you show up like bad weather. like background noise.

but weirdly… you’re quiet.

you don’t talk unless you want to. you don’t interrupt or cling. you don’t demand anything from him.

you just exist beside him.

chewing on pens. humming under your breath. sometimes reading a book upside down, like that’s normal. you wear socks with frogs on them and have a bandaid on your hand even when you’re not bleeding.

you remind him of static electricity. of flickering lights. of a broken clock that’s still somehow right twice a day.

you make his eye twitch.

and yet—

every time he glares at you, and you smile back like he’s just being so funny, something in his chest stirs. something small and stupid. something flickering like a lighter on its last spark.

he tells himself he hates it.

he hates you.

but he doesn’t tell you to leave anymore.

and that’s how he knows he’s fucked.

[better-setterv2]

𝒞𝑜𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑀𝑒 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 🎨

Authors Note: Hey everyone! I hope you’re all well. Here is a quick one shot that I wrote and also posted on PolyBuzz which you can create your own similar story. I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it. Any feedback is welcomed appreciated. Lots of love xx

Summary: While colouring in Lewis’s tattoos with markers, playful teasing turns into quiet intimacy, revealing how safe and soft he feels around you.

Warning: none

MASTERLIST

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The hotel suite was quiet, the hum of the city beyond the tall windows softened by the gentle rain tapping against the glass. A warm amber glow lit the room. The lamplight, low and soothing which casted golden halos across the space. You sat cross-legged on the couch, sketchbook and coloured pens laid out beside you, but your attention had long since drifted elsewhere.

Lewis lay on his stomach, shirt off, arms folded under the pillow, eyes closed, completely relaxed in a way you rarely got to see. The tattoos that told the stories of his life ranging from his family, faith and beliefs sprawled across his back and arms like living art. You'd always admired them, often catching your fingers tracing the lines absently when he was close, or stealing glances when he was changing. Each one held meaning. Each one had history. Which made you love them even more.

"You’re staring," Lewis murmured, voice low and amused, not even turning to look at you.

You blinked, caught. "I was just thinking."

"About?"

You hesitated, then grinned. “How cool it would be to colour in your tattoos.”

Now he did open his eyes and turn his head. His gaze was dark with curiosity and a hint of mischief. "Colour them in?"

You nodded, already reaching for your pens. “Like a giant walking colouring book.”

He raised a brow with a small grin. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. Lay still and trust the artist,” you said, crawling over to sit beside him.

Lewis gave a soft laugh, burying his face into the pillow again. “Alright then. Just don’t draw a mustache on me.”

You giggled, uncapping a deep green marker and gently touching the edge of his shoulder tattoo. Your strokes were light, careful not to tickle. As you began filling in the tattoo, you felt the shift in the air - not uncomfortable, but quieter. More thoughtful.

"You really love these, huh?" he said after a moment.

"Yeah," you whispered. “They’re like pages of your story.”

Lewis was silent for a beat. “Most people just think they look cool.”

You shrugged, switching to a soft purple. “They do look cool. But they’re you. Pieces of who you are.”

The weight of your words settled in the space between you. Lewis turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes soft now, no trace of teasing. “That’s kind of why I love you, you know.”

You paused mid-stroke, heart skipping. “Yeah?”

He nodded slowly. “You see stuff others don’t. You see me.”

For a while, you coloured in silence, your fingers moving gently across his skin, the air between you filled with something quiet and warm. You weren’t just filling in ink - you were connecting. Laughing occasionally when a line strayed, or when he twitched and insisted it wasn’t because he was ticklish.

After a comfortable silence Lewis spoke up. “You missed a spot,” He murmured, voice low and ࣪amused.

You glanced up from where you were carefully filling in the black ink of the lion tattoo on his left chest with a purple marker, only to find him watching you with a faint smirk.

“Excuse me,” you huffed, mock-offended, “I take my artistry very seriously.”

“Right,” he chuckled, eyes crinkling. “How could I forget I hired the most professional temporary tattoo artist in the business?”

You shook your head, dipping the marker again with exaggerated precision. “Keep talking and I’m switching to glitter pens.”

Lewis stretched lazily under you, the movement sending a ripple across his back muscles. “Do your worst,” he said, tone teasing. “I’ll wear it to the paddock tomorrow.”

You paused dramatically. “Don’t tempt me.”

For a moment, the room quieted again, except for the light tapping of rain on the windows and the soft rustle of fabric. His warmth radiated through the hoodie you were practically drowning in. His hoodie to be exact. The scent of his cologne still lingered on it. Comforting. Familiar.

“You’re really relaxed today,” you noted softly, switching colors. “That’s rare.”

He was quiet for a beat. “Think it’s you,” he finally said. “When you’re around, things feel lighter.”

You smiled at that, trying not to let your heart hammer too loudly. He always had this way of slipping something soft into the middle of your banter, like a secret he wasn’t sure he should be telling.

“So I’m basically your emotional support crayon.”

Lewis laughed, actually laughed. The sound bubbling up from chest like it had been pulled straight from somewhere deep inside him. His huff of laughter was that low, rare sound you always tried to coax out of him. “Exactly.”

You leaned in, closer than necessary. “Good. Because I’m not done with this masterpiece.”

And as you started colouring in the compass on his chest this time in a ridiculous mix of pink and green, you swore he leaned just a little closer too.

[jaderabbitt]

thinking about bucky finding nearly all shapes, sizes, and color of women attractive-- but specifically having a thing for curvy women / curvy!reader (as I mentioned in A New Kind of Love)

holy fuck I got carried away LMFAO OOPS, explicit content under the cut!! mdni!!

he was an avid bachelor in the 40s, and some things never change. he may not be as good as he once was when it comes to flirtations, but he's still got charm and he knows it. what has changed is the women who walk down the streets of new york city.

women wearing trousers was not unheard of, but was unusual. now, women wear clothes that are skin tight and accentuate all the right places.

bucky considers himself a respectful man, but even he is not above temptations.

his eyes would be trained on your figure as you walked around the apartment in your sleep shorts and a fitted tank top. you weren't intentionally trying to tease him--in fact, this was simply the most comfortable thing you had to wear around the house on a hot spring day. new york weather is temperamental; one day it's 80 degrees fahrenheit and sunny, and the next it's high 50s with rain for 5 days in a row.

humidity is also rampant, given the city is essentially interconnected islands. the climate is humid subtropical, meaning there's spring tropical storms as well.

put all that together and you get humid, hot days where a thin sheen of sweat coats your skin near permanently. you're sweating in places you didn't even think you could sweat in before. your thighs are chafing from the moisture combined with friction, the undersides of your breasts cling to cotton as you forego a bra. your ass is damn near eating your shorts with how they ride up, but you could never be bothered to find ones that fit loosely.

bucky, however, is too damn caught in how you must've been carved in venus' image. your skin glistens as if it were tempting him to have a taste, your clothes cling to your curves so beautifully that he might as well already have you nude beneath him. he's already painfully hard at the thought of fucking his cock in between your closed thighs, abusing your body's natural lubricants. his hands would grip the fat of your waist, clinging on to your softness like a lifeline.

he'd absolutely eat your pussy like a man starved, reveling in the salty addition of the sweat mixed with your slick that had been gathering from the minute you saw his dark, lazy gaze roving over your shape. his hands would knead the plush fat of your stomach as he dips his tongue inside of you. he gets so worked up over how sexy he finds your full figure that he'd have to grind against the sheets to relieve some of the pressure.

bucky still worries about losing control over his strength during sex, but the natural padding of your body eases a lot of that concern. he allows himself to get lost in the act--he knows that you can take him. one hand is calloused and hot against the expanse of your belly, the other cold and hardened, gripping the sheets tight enough to rip apart seams by your head. his hips piston into yours as he sheathes his length into your wet, aching heat. he adores the whines and gasps he forces out of you--he knows that he's the only one who ever has, and ever will, fill your cunt so completely that you can feel him all the way to your cervix. most men simply don't have the equipment to do so with your body, and he loves that thought.

when he knows he's getting closer to the edge, he'll wrap his arms around the curve of your back, slotting them between the pillowy rolls of skin and lift. it comes at no strain to him; his only goal is to press the soft curves of your figure as close to the hard, muscled planes of his own as he can. the change in angle has him hitting right into that special spot that makes you keen and arch into him even further. he'll press his temple into the space between your neck and shoulder and become very vocal all of a sudden, grunting and groaning by your ear. but, it isn't because of the effort it's taking him to hold you up, oh no--it's because he's trying not to blow his load before he's made you come one last time.

"Need you to come, baby-" he'd hiss, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

he genuinely might tear up because he's unintentionally edging himself while trying to make sure he gives you the pleasure you earned by doing absolutely nothing but being so goddamn pretty.

he'd thank you for letting him worship you as he cleans up his spend from your thick thighs with a warm rag. you're just a bit confused because all you did today was clean up around the apartment in the loungewear you've probably worn for three nights straight and he's acting like you gifted him the sun and stars.

[bie-tch]

To be completely honest, I don't really think Kai will become a centipede monster. I knowww it's sad but my reason as to why is pretty agreeable I think.

Usually, whenever a character is transformed into a monster or just a non-human in general, it's always been about accepting and overcoming parts of yourself youd rather hide. When Zane was revealed to be a nindroid, he learned that the others would accept him as their brother no matter what, and soon enough, it became a strength for him. Literally, he gained his true potential shortly after. He no longer sees him being a nindroid separate to his identity. He went from Zane, a ninja, to Zane, the titanium ninja. He's still him, always will be, just shiny :)

When Jay was turned into a Venomari, it became a reflection of his insecurities, the parts of himself he tries to mask with flashy bravado and exaggerated stories, especially around Nya, who he had a massive crush on. It ended similarly to Zane, where Nya said he would accept him no matter what. Flaws and all. Knowing this, He was able to gain his true potential too. Realizing that being himself was far better than covering it up with glitter and foundation.

Then when Cole became a ghost, it was a tragedy. He no longer felt like himself, no longer saw himself as a person. Instead a living husk of his former glory. But, with the encouragement and unyielding support of his teammates, his family, he learned to accept this new body of his, as inhuman as it was. It symbolized trauma, and the strength it takes to see the good in every bad situation. It carries later into the show, where even though he's back to being a human, the scars are still there. They will never truly go away, but he learned to accept himself as himself, weird ghost scars and all.

Lloyd is the definition of grappling with identity. From being the son of Lord Garmadon, to becoming the legendary Green Ninja, then the ultimate Spinjitzu Master, then returning to simply being the Green Ninja, knowing hes half Oni half dragon, and ultimately just Lloyd? He carries many versions of himself, each with parts he struggles to accept. He’s the textbook case of change: from idolizing his father to fearing he’ll become him. It’s this internal conflict that makes it so hard for him to see himself as anything other than a ninja. While we see him begin to accept his identity later in the series, DR shows us that he still has some ways to go before he truly feels at home in his own skin.

Nya's transformation was also just.. unwanted, in my opinion. It was about doing everything you can to protect the ones you love, even if it hurts you. She's very similar to Kai in this regard, and it's very realistic that they share similar ideals when it comes to how they view their role in the team. Nya thought that merging with the sea was the only option, and faced with Jay unconscious after drowning, she had no choice. It was unwanted change, similar to Cole. This time, however, instead of Nya bringing herself back, it was the others who brought her back. It's a beautiful way to show that family will go through hell and beyond if it means protecting the ones you love.

What does this all mean, however? Why do these transformations matter?

Well, here's an answer. Despite everything, despite the hardships, they all came out of it better. They came out of it having learned something positive about themselves, even though it scarred them tremendously. Think of it like a caterpillar. In order to transform into butterfly, they have to break down and rebuild. In the end, the transformations ended up becoming a reminder to stay strong and steadfast. And it's nice that everyone had a moment like that.

Weeelllll.... not everyone.

Kai is the only one who hasn’t undergone a non-human arc, and that’s surprising, considering he’s probably one of the first characters you'd expect to experience one. With his personality and tendency to hide things from others in fear of being shamed or shunned, an arc like that would benefit him. Right?

This is where monstrosity comes in I fear. And not in a good way.

I think this series will be contradicting what those arcs symbolized. I think it will become the opposite to what the other ninja experienced. I dont think Kai will turn into a centipede creature or just any monster in general. No, not really. And that might be confusing, because In order to survive the land of the monsters, you need to become one yourself, right?

But i still think Kai will be the only one not to undergo a non-human transformation. Not because it wont happen, but because he doesn't need to. In fact, I think it matches the others perfectly. Everyone in the team became a monster physically, but they stayed the same. Same likes, same hates, just with different colored skin or lack thereof. They didn't change, their views didn't change, their morals didn't change.

But Kais did.

And Kai is.

He is a monster.

Maybe not physically, maybe not literally,

But mentally. But his actions were.

And that's enough, isn't it?

[almostwisegalaxy]

Light in the Alley

Anh Su-ho x fem!reader

..................................................................................

Rain was falling with that familiar insistence that clung to skin and thoughts. A gray, stifling April night. The kind of night where the air holds its breath, where everything can tip over.

Ahn Su-ho was panting. His fist was still clenched, trembling, stained with blood — not his. He had protected Si-eun. Again. He wasn’t looking for thanks, just to make sure his friend was still standing.

They were slumped together against a brick wall, shoulders burning, ribs aching. The alley smelled of wet metal, but it was their makeshift shelter, their last stand after yet another clash with the school’s parasites. Si-eun, injured, pressed a hand to his bloody temple.

— “You should stop jumping at everyone who looks at me wrong,” he muttered.

Su-ho shrugged. Everything hurt, but that didn’t matter. Not compared to the thought that something could have happened to Si-eun.

— “You should stop being a walking target,” he shot back with a tired smile.

He was about to add something ,maybe a dumb joke, when a sharp cry echoed at the alley's entrance.

— "Yeon Si-eun!"

- not yet...said Sieun

-"You better not be dead or I’ll kill you myself!”

The voice, sharp and full of unusual anger, rang through the narrow walls like a detonation. And then she appeared. Soaked, furious. A girl — no, a storm.

Y/N.

She walked right past Su-ho without a glance, eyes locked on her brother, and in one breath, she started yelling. The words tumbled out, barely articulated, a storm of scolding and worry. She wasn’t waiting for answers. She had been scared. And she refused to show it any other way.

Then she noticed them.

The two thugs still stumbling nearby, too slow to realize they’d already lost. Her eyes changed. No more fear. No hesitation. She grabbed a broken chair that had been tossed aside and, without warning, smashed it against one of them. Su-ho’s jaw dropped.

Then came a loud bzzzz, and the second guy went down from a taser blast, stumbling away without a second thought.

Silence fell again, filled only by their ragged breathing.

Y/N turned toward them, arms still slightly raised, shaking.

— “You’re completely stupid!” she yelled. “Totally reckless! Look at you! You think this pride is worth it? You wanna die in an alley? Really?!”

No one answered. Su-ho stared at her. He had stopped hearing the words. Something else was pounding inside him. A strange beat, out of rhythm. He had never met her before, only heard about her as “Si-eun’s little sister.” He’d imagined a quiet girl, sweet, maybe even forgettable.

She was none of that.

She dragged them back to the apartment, made them sit, tossed towels and antiseptic at them while continuing to scold non-stop. And Su-ho said nothing. He just smiled. Stupidly. The kind of smile he couldn’t stop.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. Not once. She grumbled, scolded, complained — but her hands were gentle as she treated their wounds. Even as she kept muttering that they should “really go see a doctor because bleeding this much is not normal.”

— “You don’t have to keep standing,” Si-eun murmured from the couch, an ice pack on his eye.

But Su-ho couldn’t sit down. Not while she was there. Not while there was a chance her gaze would meet his and see the storm she had stirred inside him.

She had given him an annoyed look when she finished tending his cuts. A look that said I don’t get why you do this, and I don’t have time to figure it out. And yet, there was a flicker. Just a second.

— “Thanks,” she said. Almost begrudgingly.

Su-ho only nodded, unable to speak. His voice had caught somewhere in his throat, smothered by a heart beating too fast.

In the days that followed, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. About her. About that moment. Her voice.

He hated it. Not because it embarrassed him — no. Because it was too much. He felt too much. Every time he remembered, a warm rush climbed his spine, a surge of pure joy. A kind of dizzy happiness.

And it made him dumb.

— “Are you really gonna keep following me to school every morning now?” Si-eun asked, annoyed.

Su-ho shrugged.

— “Just making sure you don’t get into trouble.”

— “You just want to run into my sister.”

He didn’t answer. He smiled. He never hid things from Si-eun. Their friendship hadn’t started easily, but it had rooted itself in pain, fear, and loyalty. A rough friendship, hard as steel, forged through fights and silence. And despite his cold demeanor, Si-eun had let him in. He was the first one to look at Su-ho like a person, not just a walking fist.

So he wasn’t going to lie.

— “I like her,” he admitted finally.

Si-eun stared at him for a moment.

— “She’s gonna drive you crazy.”

Su-ho grinned.

— “I’m already crazy

---

Y/N wasn’t the kind to get close to people easily. Especially not to a guy like him. She didn’t hate him, no. But she kept a careful distance. Too careful for Su-ho, who dreamed of a word, a smile, a moment where she would really see him.

Still, every time their eyes met, something pulsed. As if she was watching him too, silently. As if she understood — without saying a word.

She hated violence. She didn’t understand why he fought so much. But she understood why he was always there for her brother.

And that was enough. For now.

One night, they all ended up on the apartment roof by chance. She sat next to him. Not too close. Just enough for him to catch her scent.

— “You never sleep?” she asked.

— “Not when things keep spinning in my head.” Not when I have you in my head

She nodded. Silence fell, comfortable.

— “Thanks for the other night,” she murmured suddenly. “For my brother. For everything.”

He didn’t know what to say. So he looked at her — really looked — full of the light she had sparked in him.

— “I wish I were different,” he finally said.

She looked at him, curious.

— “You don’t have to be. You are who you are. And you saved him. That’s what I remember.”

His heart skipped a beat. Not because she approved of him. But because she saw him. Truly saw him.

And in that moment, he knew. It wasn’t just a crush. It wasn’t just a smile. He was done for. Completely in love.

..................................................................................

[strwbrychffoncke]

"i feel a little less alone,, 5.9k words synopsis: the notorious & mischevious twins from your class work in tandem to put together a surprise for you contains: lnds luke + kieran x reader ,fluff! ,school au (tbh was going for hs but feels more like college after reading it LOL) friends -> lovers ? ,v light angst ,kind of oblivious!reader (sorry self-indulgent) ,sylus cameo ! (trying to drop hints) ,the twins are really silly here ,twins bickering ,they both like you ,jealous!luke ,they make chocolate together ,confession <3 ,i cant think of anything else my brain is fried note: (unedited! will edit later im too tired rn its too long) hey lol.... making myself complete these before i begin my bday event for myself hehe :x this idea has been in my head for months & finally have the will to bring it to life

-

luke and kieran were menaces.

it was apparent to anyone and everyone that had the pleasure (or lack thereof, depending on who you asked) of interacting with them. they were known tricksters, sometimes called "the crow delinquents," with rumors circulating that they never played fair, that they picked fights often, and hid clubs and shurikens in their lockers and secret compartments of their clothes.

shockingly, most believed these rumors, but you were not most, and thus you figured they were just that: rumors.

the little that you did know about them was 1, they were almost never seen apart (if one was without the other, it would be safe to assume that something was wrong). two, they often hung around an upperclassmen by the name of Sylus, notorious for his own reasons with his own reputation preceding him (and maybe he, the delinquent of the school, was the reason for the rumors circulating the twins). and 3, for some reason or another, they were always lingering around you.

not just one, but the both of them.

whether it was the seating arrangements in class (how did you always end up in the middle, you were unsure), your sacred space of silence during breaks suddenly filled with two voices either ranting, joking, or bickering with one another, the previously empty classroom you sought refuge to enjoy a lunch suddenly filled with two more presences (but how is it that you still wound up being the only one who ate in this time?), and even during your walk home, what once was a leisure time filled with your music now taken up with two boys who started being referred to as "bodyguards" accompanying you to your humble home.

despite this change in your daily life, its not like they were unpleasant, per se.

on the contrary, you very much enjoyed the twins' company in what was otherwise an uneventful day, week, month before they began talking to you. you often kept to yourself, and didn't mind it too much, but now you found yourself snorting at the bickering that broke out between the two that you had no choice but to be witness to, taking note of their preferences and spending your precious allowance on drinks from the vending machine for kieran when he seemed a little breathless, and catching yourself laughing a little too hard at something that luke said bluntly (and more so at the smack he'd receive from his brother).

if anything, you were more confused than anything else at the twins apparent attachment to you.

but well, you weren't exactly complaining. they seemed to carve their way into your heart, and you were more than happy with the new routine set in motion with the two of them around.

-

everything good comes in threes, which is how you found yourself faced with sylus of all people seated in what was supposed to be kieran's spot in the otherwise empty classroom.

you were so shocked at his presence— sitting confidently albeit questionably with one leg bent at the knee towards his chest, foot planted on the seat and the other stretched straight, arm resting on his knee as he flipped a coin over in his other— that your first instinct was to run. while you didn't do exactly that, you simply turned around, hoping that he hadn't already noticed you.

"hey."

dammit.

you stopped immedietaly, but refused to turn around. it was silent for a moment before his voice rang through again.

"come, sit. i wanted to talk to you."

this couldn't be good, could it?

you peeked behind you, only to find sylus piercing gaze already on you.

"i wont bite," he jokes, gesturing to the seat infront of him.

you don't respond but carefully make your way to your seat, settling yourself in before the so-called delinquent.

"where—"

"they're... indisposed, at the moment," he answers smoothly, cutting of your impending curiosity.

you wonder if you should pry, but before you can, he speaks again.

"those two seem to have taken such a strong liking to you that i figured i'd speak to you myself."

you feel your face heat up at his choice of words.

"well... what did you want to talk about?"

sylus leans forward slightly, elbow planted on the desk, hand in a fist where he rests the side of his head.

"what did you do to get them like that? i wanted to see the kind of person that captivated them so strongly."

your eyes widen.

"captivated...? they were the ones who approached me first—"

"they don't go around approaching everyone, now do they sweetie?"

when you think back, you're not even sure you'd see them approach anyone else, usually only sticking with one another and speaking when approached by any student.

"..no, i guess not."

sylus smirks.

"and why do you think that is?"

you fish out your utensils from the wrap, popping the lid off of your container before reaching for the rice while answering.

"actually, ive been trying to figure that out myself."

your gaze is fixed on your lunch now, scooping some rice into your mouth while eyeing what to go for next, missing the incredulous look sylus shoots your way.

"what do you mean?" he murmurs, watching as you pick up a piece of meat and happily chow down on it.

you swallow, taking a sip of water before speaking again.

"well, they kind of approached me all of a sudden one day, and have lingered around me ever since."

realizing how that may sound, your head shoots up, panicked eyes meeting sylus' gaze, waving your arms around in front of you.

"its not like i have a problem with them or anything! i just— i mean—" your gaze shifts to the side before falling back on your food, one hand falling to your lap as the other picks at the warm meal.

"i'm not sure why those two would hang around someone like me, thats all," you mumble, picking at some greens and shoveling them between your lips.

sylus raises an eyebrow at your shift in expressions just moments ago.

you were quite an interesting one, indeed.

he leans back in his seat, his propped leg falling to stretch out beside the other, crossing his feet and folding his arms over his chest.

"have you considered that maybe they like you?"

your eyes flit up to meet his, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

sylus thinks he's got you.

you swallow again, taking another sip of water, setting it down and staring straight ahead.

"well, id hope they do."

sylus' eyes widen ever so slightly. you tilt your head slightly, continuing.

"i mean, they're around me so much, i would only hope its out of likeness and not pity," you finish before shoveling some more rice into your mouth.

sylus narrows his eyes, exhaling through his nose.

clueless, aren't you?

"i meant romantically, sweetie."

your reaction is immediate.

your eyes widen before you let out a series of coughs, reaching for your water bottle in haste to gulp the liquid down and soothe your throat.

"wh-what?" you finally ask between coughs, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.

"is it that unbelievable?"

"well, why would they—"

"boss!"

"y/n~!"

before you know it, you're wrapped up in several arms, with one twin sliding into the seat beside you and sliding his arms around your waist and head on your shoulder while the other stands behind you, arms wrapped around your shoulders and lightly pulling your head towards his chest.

"what are you doing here with our y/n?" the voice behind you asks, playfully accusatory, and you realize its luke.

"yeah, what are you doing here with her? is that why you made us run that errand for you?" kieran, by your side, asks in the same tone.

sylus puts his hands up in mock surrender, the twins' gazes following his movement as he stands up, lazy smirk plastered on his face.

"as i told them, i was merely curious about the person you both can't seem to stop talking about."

the twins' eyes widen, feeling their heartrates increase, sharing the same look of bewilderment as they stare at sylus.

"b-boss!"

"i'll be taking my leave now," he says smoothly, all-too satisfied at flustering the twins. you only squirm in their grasp, but they don't budge.

"and you," sylus makes eye contact with you, stopping you in your futile struggle.

"we'll speak again soon." his voice is laced with promise and you can only nod in agreement before you watch him turn on his heel, and coolly make his way out of the classroom, sliding the door shut behind him and disappearing down the hallway.

you breathe out a sigh of relief and in seconds, the twins slide into the chairs beside yours, lazer-focused on you.

"what did he say?"

"was he talking about us?"

"did he say anything strange?"

"were you nervous?"

they're questions come in rapid fire, and you have to plant a hand on each of their masks to signal them to slow down.

"sorry," they mumble in unison, lightly pushing your hands down, letting them fall into your lap.

"do you want some?" you gesture to your lunch. "i made a lot, so...."

"yes, please!" they answer in unison, their eyes skimming over the meat, rice, and veggies within the container.

already accustomed to their antics, you turn around to allow them to eat with little worry before you begin answering their questions one by one.

"he said he was here to 'see the kind of person i am?' i didn't really understand, but thats what he said."

the twins shared a look behind your back.

"he did mention you both. when i asked where you were, he just said you were 'indisposed.'"

"typical of boss," kieran states plainly.

"anything strange... well, he asked if it occurred to me that you both might like me."

in seconds, the sound of something akin to a shocked screech was accompanied by coughs, and shortly after, someone slapping the others back.

"are you okay?? should i turn around?"

"no, he's fine," kieran answered, making luke chug some juice before looking at him in concern.

"are you—"

"HE SAID THAT!?" luke cried as soon as he could speak again.

"ye—"

"what did you say??" now kieran sounded just as frantic.

"i.. i said i hoped you did like me since you hang out around me so much, because i like you both."

"you..."

"you said that..?" kieran asked, a little breathless.

"y-yeah—"

"did he say anything else???" luke interrupted.

"he..." you trailed off, wondering if you should say it.

'i meant romantically, sweetie.'

you felt your face heat up at the thought of his words again. but why would he say that? surely because he was messing with you. despite what he said or may be implying, you were sure the twins didn't, no couldn't, think that way about you, and so why bring it up and embarrass yourself further?

"he didn't say much else like that," you lied, a little relieved once you heard the twins sigh out in what you assumed was relief.

"were you nervous then? i know how boss may seem," kieran piped up after a few beats of silence from what you assumed was them eating.

"yes, actually. the second i saw him in your spot, i turned around thinking i was in the wrong room."

kieran snorted while luke practically cackled.

"ah, i wonder, hahaha! what he must've thought, ha!" luke pondered aloud, words broken between his pleased giggles.

you smiled at the sound.

you had a passing thought, for just a moment, that you'd like to hear the sound everyday.

the rest of the break was spent as usual, the twins doing most of the talking, making a mental note to talk to their boss later as they relished in what lunchtime they had left to spend with you.

-

if you were to ask kieran, he would say the moment he fell for you was well before they ever even approached you.

while he may prefer to throw himself off of the roof of the school before ever admitting it aloud, you might say that it was "love at first sight." and honestly? his only regret these days is not approaching you sooner.

he remembers the day so clearly, its almost a core memory for him. they went back and forth on the idea of going or skipping orientation, ultimately deciding to go for the sole reason that they had nothing better to do that day.

matching in simple black jeans, black hoodie and black face masks they approached the school together, talking about something he couldn't recall even if he tried.

he remembers nodding along to something luke was saying as he looked ahead towards the entrance of the doors, and thats when he saw you.

you were dressed nicely, nowhere near formal but much nicer compared to him and luke, posture anxious but with promise, phone clutched in your hand, messy pieces of hair falling to the front of your face despite the pins you had-

and then, you met eyes.

it was so brief, just a second, but something about those eyes of yours- bright yet unsure, glittering yet anxious- made kieran's heart skip a beat.

a second later he blinked and you were gone, disappeared behind the entrance doors no doubt scurrying off towards the orientation's location and then kieran remembers luke stopping by his side (when did he stop walking? he wasn't sure) his brothers' hand slapping then resting on his shoulder as kieran held a hand over his rapidly-racing heart.

"hey, you good? whats up?" luke asked out of concern but tone still light, mixed with more confusion then anything, seeming completely unaware of the sensations running through his brother's veins.

kieran insisted that it was nothing, just a little hot he managed to choke out, and despite the clouds almost completely shielding the sun behind them, luke only gave a quizzical look before nodding.

"better get inside, then!" he chirped, patting his brothers shoulder again before returning both hands to his pockets and walking ahead.

kieran knew what he was thinking without him having to say it.

bullshit, but i wont push it right now.

after all, they were twins, and to some degree, their "twin telepathy" wasn't just some inside joke.

the orientation and checking out the classes passed in a blur. all he could recall was your pretty outfit and that look in your eyes.

. . .

when he found himself in the same class as not only luke but you as well, he felt like he might implode.

though, rather than getting involved right away, he thought maybe it was better to keep his distance, that you'd come to him first.

but the longer he waited, the more impatient he got.

and the more time that passed, the more rumors began floating about them both.

he noticed you around, how you mostly kept to yourself, more often than not seen with your headphones over your ears, drowning out everyone and everything, a little dazed and lost in your own little world.

distant, comfortable, alone.

at this point, he began second-guessing himself. there's not way someone like you would willingly hang around some "shady delinquents" that just so happened to be in half of your classes.

not to mention every time he did try to approach you, his heart rate sped up so rapidly he'd always get cold feet last minute.

he was just about to sigh in defeat, faceplant straight into bed and sob his eyes out over his broken heart while blasting sad music when a notification brought his attention to his phone.

it was an email of a group project, and within it the groups that everyone was assigned to.

he opened it, uninterested, eyes skimming over the names in boredom, subconsciously looking for yours.

and he found it.

right next to his and luke's.

his heart lurched.

that evening, he let out a scream so loudly, luke was convinced he had been attacked, so imagine his surprise when he burst into his brothers room only to see him rolling around on the floor.

after that, friendship came quickly.

he, by some miracle, managed to mask his nerves behind his actual face mask and witty banter with luke, shamelessly inserting himself deeper and deeper within your daily schedule until it became natural.

luke followed suit, and though his suspicions of his brothers antics was ever present, he remained, finding solace in your company and reveling in the new addition to tease and chat away to (not with, since you mostly listened rather than spoke yourself, not that he minded, neither of them did).

kieran felt his feelings grow with each passing day, hiding it behind mischievous eyes and dramatics. he would figure out the next step later, he thought.

-

if you asked luke, he would say the moment he fell for you was after he saw you getting hit on.

honestly, it may have been before that, but he just refused to face his feelings, pushing the weird-fluttery feeling he'd get every time you laughed (either by his doing or getting smacked by his brother), smiled (he really likes that expression on you, he feels lucky to be able to witness it everyday), or touched him (either your hands grazing his after handing him a drink from the vending machine or tugging on his sleeve to get his attention, he always thought his heart might just burst right then and there).

this must be a very strong liking towards you because you were so different from kieran and sylus and others, is what he convinced himself of.

that was, until someone appeared to try and snatch you away.

even now at the mention of that day, luke can immediately feel heat creep up his neck, his ears burning bright red, the crimson spreading across his face as he begs kieran to just shut up, already! to which his twin simply laughs his head off.

it was a normal day— at least, thats how it began.

he remembers the part where he made you laugh in class, having a chill period as you three worked on your assignment together. any day he makes you laugh is a good day in his book.

and then, came lunch time.

out of the norm, you decided you wanted to eat outside in the courtyard. it wasn't often you decided this, and you always told luke and kieran they could go wherever else they wished (knowing they probably wanted to hangout with sylus too) but they had insisted they would join you.

and they did. for awhile.

at some point, kieran had said something about talking to sylus about something, saying he'd be back in a blink. that left you and luke for some time, until you offhandedly mentioned a drink you were craving, to which luke perked up and offered to grab for you from the vending machine.

"i want one too, its not biggie! ill be quick, so don't miss me too much~"

he gave a little wave and you laughed before thanking him, watching him walk off before you gathered some more rice together.

. . .

luke was absentmindedly humming to himself, swiftly tossing and turning the drinks in hand as he momentarily wondered if kieran would beat him to returning to you. at least he'd have something for him if—

"—y/n, right? we share the class..."

lukes train of thought seemed to crash.

"..been looking for you...."

he tilted his head to the side.

who...

he took a couple of steps closer, enough to hear but not enough to be immediately spotted.

"im so glad i was able to catch you on your own!"

luke could get a clearer look at the guy that approached you.

he wasn't anything special in his opinion, maybe a little charming if he squinted, dressed decently enough, he thinks as he watches the guy give a nervous yet polite smile your way.

why was he scrutinizing him so deeply?

why was he so irked at someone else looking at you like that?

why did he want to tackle him so badly?

he reasoned with himself that he shouldn't, not when he hasn't done anything.

but if he did....

luke wouldn't hesitate.

"actually, i..."

the guy looked away, scratching his cheek and giving a nervous chuckle.

you urged him to continue, how nice of you, always so nice, luke thought.

"well... i just...."

he took a deep breath.

"i think you're really cute, and wanted to know if you'd like to go out with me!"

luke has never been so filled to the brim with dread.

he quickly garners your expression, and you're nothing less than shocked.

"i... um...." you avert your gaze towards your lunch, pondering.

you're trying to find a way to turn him down.

the guy takes a step closer, holding a hand over his chest.

"come on, give me a chance! we can get to know each other, and if you dont like it, well..."

his words trail off as something behind you catches his eye.

its luke, making a beeline toward you.

"birdie~~ im back with— oh, whos this, is he a friend of yours?"

lukes tone is playful and light, but his eyes are piercing, aimed straight towards the mystery guy.

he doesnt actually know how he got here, all he knows is that his body moved quicker than his brain, perceiving a threat and acting as your shield: namely, wrapping his arms around you from behind, and planting his chin atop your head.

a cute gesture, but this way, you cant see his expression.

"oh, thank you, luke...."

"w-wait, is he...?"

suddenly the student's eyes are wide and shaking, hand trembling as he points towards the protective twin twisted around you.

ah, someone who believes the rumors.

for the first time, luke is actually grateful for them.

"y-you're the one who... he.... i— im sorry, i should've known—!"

"wait—"

you begin to stretch a hand out to gesture for the student to pause but he's already bolted off and out of sight, taking himself towards safety.

luke lets out a sigh.

even with the perceived threat gone, his arms tighten around you slightly.

he can feel his heart racing.

"you're so soft..."

"luke..?"

that somehow snaps him back, and he jumps away from you.

"s-sorry," he mumbles, shaking his head before taking his seat beside you.

"your drink," he holds the can out towards you and you thank him.

"why did he look so afraid?"

out of everything you could ask, thats the first question that spills from your lips.

luke opens his mouth to answer but is beat to the punch.

"thats because of the rumors. we are delinquents, ya know?"

luke chokes on air at the sound of kieran's voice flitting through the air as he reclaims his spot.

"sorry i took so long, i—"

"how long have you been here?" luke cuts him off.

"long enough," he answers deliberately, his eyes with a knowing glint in them.

that evening, luke never head the end of it.

but one thing was now certain in his mind:

he did not like the idea of you with someone else.

especially one that ran at the sight of danger incarnate.

he remembers the way he felt, his heart racing at the memory of you clutched in his arms, like you two were the only ones that existed for a few moments in time, and finally confronted what he'd been running from.

he liked you.

a lot.

what an awful thing, luke sighed, falling backwards on his bed, cheeks warm and rosy.

-

without having an actual conversation of acknowledgement, the twins knew that they both garnered feelings for you.

the perks of twin telepathy.

after acknowledging these feelings, they decided to work together on putting something together for you.

the idea, in theory, was genius.

they would make homemade chocolates (who didn't like sweets?), surprise you with them, confess their undying love, and live happily ever after with you.

except... someone (or two) underestimated just how difficult making chocolates from scratch could be.

"no thats— what are you doing?"

"what am i doing? im trying to follow the recipe!"

"in what world does it need that?"

"its called 'a little extra love,' idiot."

"oh, im the idiot??"

the kitchen was a mess, and their banter filling it made it all the more worse.

at some point, they mutually agreed to take a break.

kieran took a long sip of water while luke slumped down beside him, letting out a long sigh.

"this sucks."

"too bad neither of us is all that good in the kitchen."

"im not even talking about that."

kieran raised an eyebrow.

"i just mean— feelings."

kieran let out an amused scoff.

"feelings suck?"

"god, yes!" luke exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"i mean, who even created love? we should kill them."

kieran snorted.

"you'd rather do that then face your feelings?"

there was a beat of silence.

"probably."

"idiot."

"arent you worried at all?"

kieran shrugged his shoulders.

"of course i am."

"then, why—"

"i mean, they're not the type to just up and run, ya know? they didn't run away when we—"

"when you," luke interrupts.

"when we approached them," kieran continues.

"so even if they dont reciprocate, they wouldnt leave us in the dust."

"...you really think that?"

"i know that, they proved that," kieran emphasizes his words, giving a kind looks towards his brother.

"it'll be okay."

luke sighs.

"i sure hope so."

he moves to stand up, taking kieran's outstretched hand and pulling himself up, dusting himself off.

"god, making chocolates is so sappy, isnt it?"

kieran smirked.

"do delinquents make chocolates?"

luke smiles.

"the best in the world."

-

the twins have been acting strange these days, to say the least.

you like to think you know them well. after so much time together, months upon months, you're quite pleased with the fact that you can tell them apart (not that it was difficult, you learned just how different they were from the very first couple of encounters back then) and your ability to sense shifts in their demeanors.

not that it happens often, but every so often, there's something that slips just enough to let you know something is wrong.

and more and more of those days have popped up recently.

though, rather than annoyed or down about something, they seem a little on edge instead.

you immediately noticed it the first day, when kieran was subconsciously bouncing his leg in class along with luke's fingers dancing across the tabletop.

there wasn't any exam expected today, you mostly took the time to go over your notes and study the current material, so you wondered if there was another reason for the sudden anxious movements.

"are you both alright?"

your concerned tone made both pairs of eyes flit up to meet yours, shimmering to the brim with confusion and worry.

their hearts clenched.

"what do you mean, birdie?"

"its just... you're bouncing your leg," you point to kieran's leg, who's movements seize as soon as you do,

"and you've been drumming for awhile now," you then turn and point towads luke's hands that quickly clasp over one another after pointing them out.

you lean in closer, your heart beginning to race with worry.

"if something's bothering you, you know you can tell me!"

they feel their hearts throb in sync, and glance at each other.

"we know, little birdie," luke begins.

"but, lets just say its a secret~" kieran finishes with a playful tone, one pointer finger positioned in front of his lips.

he drops his hand back in his lap, and you sigh.

"its not any trouble with sylus, is it?"

"nope, nothing like that!" luke reassures with a wave of his hand.

you frown, tilting your head and lowering your voice just a touch.

"you're not being threatened again, are you?"

kieran lets out an amused laugh.

given their reputation, they've become prone to receiving threats from some gangs and other "wannabe delinquents," as luke calls them. they had opened up about this offhandedly before, leaving your mouth agape in shock and now very much more concerned for their safety.

they simply waved you off, laughing and cooing at how cute you are before insisting they can handle themselves. shouldnt you know better than anyone else? they ask in regards to the rumors you're all-too accustomed to, with many random students approaching you to borderline interrogate you about the twins, if the rumors are true, and what your goal is with them.

(the last one always rubbed you the wrong way, your stomach turning in disdain. what do they mean "what your goal is?" if they only knew their true nature, then....

but you held the simmering feelings for the two within your heart).

kieran only shakes his head, a smile adorning his lips.

"nope! not that either."

"well..."

"dont worry," kieran cuts you off, patting your head.

"we're just fine," luke pipes up, giving a thumbs up and unconvincing smile.

you huff out a breath.

"if you say so..."

. . .

the second time is when they ditch you for lunch.

"boss' orders~!" kieran says as he leaves your favorite drink in an apology before scurrying off with luke in tow.

you didnt entirely mind being on your own even after growing accustomed to two extra guests...

but the way they left so suddenly made your heart sink.

you tried to busy your mind by scrolling on your phone as you ate when a knock at the classroom door startles you.

"mind if i join you?"

its the familiar velvet that suddenly surrounds you, grounding you and filling you with nerves and a strange sense of comfort.

you look up to crimson eyes, shaking your head as you gesture towards the seat next to you.

sylus takes his seat, looking you up and down before raising a brow.

"where are those two? its rare to see you by yourself."

you offer him your own look of confusion.

"i... thought they were with you? or, doing something for you. thats what kieran told me, anyway."

sylus' expression morphed into something unreadable before he exhaled sharply.

"sorry, but it seems they're off doing their own thing."

those words felt like a weight on your chest.

doing their own thing..? why would they lie? was it something you did?

your mind reeled.

what could it have been? you wrack your brain but cant think of anything.

did they... get tired of you?

your spiraling state must be showing on your face because suddenly you feel a sensation on your shoulder- a comforting hand.

"hey..."

you look up and for the first time see concern shining in those rubies.

he lets out a heavy sigh.

"you know, before jumping to conclusions, why dont you confront them yourself?"

-

the third time is when you stop by their dorm.

you'd been over a couple of times before, but they mostly spent time in yours, "preferring the atmosphere" they had said once when you asked.

now you wondered if they were simply hiding something.

luke is the one who answers, standing in silence with eyes too wide in shock for a second too long, probing you to wave a hand in front of his face to bring him back to earth.

"sorry, uh, co-come in!" he stutters, stepping aside and letting you in, mentally facepalming as he shuts the door behind you.

"is kieran here, too?"

"yea, he's—"

"who is it, luke?"

"its—"

"its me," you call back, and you think you hear something clatter. theres footsteps, and then he appears from behind the door.

"bi-birdie?!"

your heart picks up as you stare at them both.

"i want to talk."

they share a glance, then lead you to sit down on a couple of cushions on the carpeted floor.

its silent for a few moments, but soon you find the words you wish to say, willing yourself to just try to get through it without crying.

you take a deep breath.

"you know, if you're tired of me, you can just tell me."

the twins eyes resemble saucers. you continue.

"its been a whole week that you two started acting strange. avoiding me, blowing me off, leaving me alone... if you.."

you steady your breathing. you wont cry.

"if you dont... if you dont like me anymore, thats okay, but—"

"who the hell put that idea into your head?"

your head snaps up to kieran, whos tone of voice you almost dont recognize, being the first time you catch what sounds like a mesh of anger and regret within it.

you stare for a moment, unbelieving.

"kieran..."

"no, someone— someone must've said something, right? to put that idea into your head?"

"you... you're the ones who..."

"its not what you think!" luke chimes in, all defense and reassuring merged into his tone.

he turns to kieran.

"i think now's the time."

kieran looks at luke then at you.

"but..."

"lets prove it now, since we havent really been the best...."

kieran takes another moment to think then nods in understanding.

"wait here," he tells you before getting up and retrieving something from the next room.

he come back moments later with a little box.

"we're so sorry, y/n," luke begins, voice drowning in regretful sorrow. he reaches his hand out and you allow him to grasp one of yours.

"we... we were actually making this for you, and, well, we were pretty nervous..." kieran trails off, holding out the box to you.

you look it over, grabbing it with your free hand.

"the... secret?" you ask, remembering that day in class.

they nod.

your breath hitched.

slowly, you pull your occupied hand from lukes and use both to open the box in your lap.

inside are an array of chocolates, your favorite flavors, all in the shape of little crows.

"we made them ourselves," kieran begins.

"so... hopefully they'll taste good, and..."

"they're sort of...."

they take a deep breath.

"its our profession of love to you!" they exclaim together, wholeheartedly.

your heart rate spikes.

their.... what?

"we've liked you for a long time..." says kieran.

"and, we were planning to tell you, a little later, but..."

"we needed to give you this now, to show you."

"we like you plenty, as you can see."

luke smiles when you laugh.

"we're sorry for making you think otherwise," kieran finishes.

now they're looking at you expectantly, and you can't help but to smile, words escaping you at the heartfelt confession.

instead of responding right away, you reach for a cute little crow chocolate, and pop it into your mouth.

they watch your expressions as you take in the flavor.

first curious, then surprised, and then—

that cute smile and hum when something particularly pleases you.

you look up, gazing at the two, who still look like they're bracing themselves for something.

instead, you set the box aside for a moment, reaching forward and planting a kiss on each of their cheeks, smiling sweetly afterwards.

"dummies."

they each hold a hand over the cheek you kissed, half in awe and all in pleasure.

you could talk more about everything later. for now, you offer them some of their hard work, somehow moving together like magnets, sandwiched comfortably between their warmth as you all feed each other the precious chocolate crows.

you'd have to remember to thank sylus later.

-

a/n: why am i releasing this so late..? um as the marias once said ooo its valentines day in the city~ why it turned out so long..? i wish i knew all i can say is i was possessed n needed this out of my system even though theres barely any luke/kieran content out there sigh... sorry for the rushed ending! if this stayed in my drafts one more night i thought i might explode

-

[writeriguess]

i assume this is how we make requests but if not then oops.

can i request a katsuki bakugou x masc reader where they’re not dating but basically act like they are and one morning class A discover them cuddled up asleep on the couch?

like katsuki is asleep on top of reader and cuddling him. and reader gets embarrassed when he wakes up to see class A teasing them but also doesn’t wanna wake katsuki up so he plays with his hair or something!

if u don’t wanna do it that’s okay too i love ur work :)

Not Dating, My Ass

The dorms were quiet in the early morning, the usual chaos of Class 1-A still an hour or two away. Sunlight peeked through the curtains of the common room, casting soft golden light over the couch. On it, Katsuki Bakugou was sprawled across another body—specifically, you.

Your back was against the couch, one arm thrown over the blonde’s waist while his arms were locked tightly around you, his face buried in your chest. His weight pinned you down, and his body was pleasantly warm, his even breaths tickling your collarbone.

You didn’t even remember how you ended up like this. The last thing you recalled was watching a late-night movie with Bakugou—just the two of you, as usual. Somewhere between his grumbles about the "shitty romance plot" and your teasing jabs about how he was actually invested, exhaustion must have hit.

Now, you were stuck.

Your face burned when you finally became aware of how intimate this position was. Bakugou’s fingers were curled into the fabric of your hoodie, his legs tangled with yours. His breathing was slow and steady, completely at peace, which was a rare sight for someone as explosive as him.

But your moment of internal panic was short-lived.

“Oh my god.”

The voice cut through the silence like a gunshot.

Your stomach dropped.

You turned your head—big mistake. The entire Class 1-A was there, staring at the two of you, looking way too entertained for your liking.

Mina had her hands clasped together like she was witnessing the most adorable thing in existence, while Kaminari and Sero exchanged knowing grins. Kirishima looked like he was about to combust from excitement.

“Bro,” Kaminari whispered dramatically, “you guys are literally cuddling.”

“Not dating, huh?” Sero added, smirking.

You opened your mouth, scrambling for some sort of excuse, but no words came out. What were you supposed to say? No, we’re just really, really close friends who sleep on top of each other? That wasn’t going to fly.

Mina practically squealed. “I knew it! You guys act like a couple all the time, but this—this is solid proof! Cuddling in your sleep? Katsuki’s clinging to you, dude!”

You felt your whole body stiffen. You wanted to yell back, to deny it, but Bakugou was still asleep on top of you, completely unaware of the situation unfolding. And waking him up meant he’d see the audience currently enjoying this way too much.

So instead, you slowly, carefully, raised your hand and ran your fingers through his hair.

It was the only thing you could think of to keep yourself busy. His hair was surprisingly soft despite its spiky appearance, and when you scratched lightly at his scalp, he let out the softest, most content sigh you had ever heard from him.

Dead. You were dead.

Kirishima gasped like he was watching a romance movie climax. “Dude, you’re playing with his hair?”

You groaned, tilting your head back against the couch. “Can you guys not?”

“No, no, this is gold,” Kaminari whispered excitedly. “This is, like, life-changing information. I mean, look at him! He looks so peaceful! That’s, like, a rare Bakugou sighting!”

“Seriously,” Sero added, “this is some National Geographic level shit.”

You shot them a glare. “Shut up.”

Bakugou shifted slightly, nuzzling closer to your chest, and your breath hitched. Your heart pounded against your ribs.

If he woke up now and saw this… oh god.

Mina clasped her hands together. “You don’t want to wake him up, do you?” Her eyes sparkled mischievously.

“I—” You clenched your jaw, ears burning.

“Oh my god, you don’t!” She gasped, looking at the others. “Guys, he doesn’t wanna wake him up! That’s so cute!”

You gritted your teeth. “I hate all of you.”

“Bro, just admit it,” Kaminari grinned. “You like him.”

That made you flinch. Your fingers paused in his hair.

And that moment of hesitation was all they needed.

“AHA!” Mina pointed at you. “That reaction? That’s a crush reaction!”

Kirishima beamed. “It’s okay, man! We’re happy for you guys!”

“We’re not dating!” you hissed, though it was completely useless at this point.

“Not yet,” Sero muttered under his breath.

But the universe must have really hated you, because at that exact moment, Bakugou shifted again—this time letting out a low, sleepy grumble.

The entire room froze.

You felt the exact second his body tensed, his breathing changing as he began to wake up.

His fingers curled slightly into your hoodie before he suddenly went still. A long, painful silence stretched between you.

You didn’t dare move.

Then, with the slow inevitability of a natural disaster, Bakugou’s head lifted slightly, ruby-red eyes cracking open, still hazy with sleep. His face was barely inches from yours.

He blinked. Once. Twice. His brows furrowed.

Then he turned his head and finally noticed your very invested audience.

The whole room braced for impact.

Bakugou’s body went rigid. His arms were still locked around you, his legs still tangled with yours, his face still too damn close to yours.

You watched as realization dawned. His eyes slowly widened.

Nobody dared to breathe.

Then, all at once—

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Bakugou shot up so fast he nearly threw himself off the couch. You barely caught him, hands instinctively grabbing his shoulders before he could trip.

The class erupted into laughter.

“You guys looked so cute!” Mina teased, wiping a fake tear from her eye.

Kaminari was practically wheezing. “Bro, your face—holy shit, I wish I had my phone!”

Bakugou’s entire face exploded in red. He turned on you, eyes still wild from sleep. “What the hell were we doing?!”

You rubbed the back of your neck. “Uh… sleeping?”

His eye twitched.

Mina smirked. “More like cuddling.”

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugou snarled, voice cracking slightly.

You were about to jump in, to try and save whatever was left of your dignity, but then Bakugou whirled back to you, eyes narrowed.

“You!” He jabbed a finger at you. “Why the hell were you playing with my hair?!”

You felt your soul leave your body.

“Wha—I—I was panicking!”

“Oh, you were panicking?” Mina snickered.

“Yes!” you snapped. “Because I woke up and all of you were watching us like some weird reality TV show!”

Bakugou groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m gonna kill all of you.”

“Doubt it,” Sero grinned. “We’ve got too much blackmail now.”

Bakugou looked like he was about to lunge, but you quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him back before he started an all-out brawl.

“Come on, man,” you sighed, patting his shoulder. “Let’s just go before they make this worse.”

Bakugou grumbled under his breath but didn’t resist when you guided him toward the dorms. The class watched you go, still grinning like they just witnessed the greatest romance arc of the century.

As you reached the hallway, Bakugou huffed. “They’re never gonna let this go, are they?”

“Absolutely not,” you muttered.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Whatever.” He shot you a side glance. “…You better not make it weird.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled slightly. “No promises.”

Bakugou scoffed. But as he walked beside you, his hand brushed against yours—just for a second.

And you weren’t sure, but you thought he looked a little less annoyed.

[asoftsighh]

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ joel miller x reader ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

joel handcrafts you a gift

1.3k words

You’d like to pride yourself with the fact that you know Joel Miller pretty well. You’d hope, after years of fighting and bleeding side by side. 

So you immediately notice his change in mood, how he’s quieter than usual. Where dry jokes would’ve been made, or compliments whispered, he’s silent. You don’t say anything though; Joel is like a stray dog, in this sense. One who’s been hurt, over and over, and it’s best when they come to you first. So you don’t say anything. Don’t push him, waiting and hoping that he’ll come to you if there’s something seriously wrong. 

It’s early afternoon now, a cold and rainy day. One of those days where you don’t feel like leaving the house, staying wrapped up in a blanket and in the arms of the man you love. That’s where you were right now, actually; the dimmed lights of your living room casting an orange hue to the room.

Joel’s heartbeat is slow and steady beneath your ear, where you’re half dozing on his chest. It had started with reading your separate books (yours a fantasy, his about space,) until his hand started rubbing your calf in the way you like. And now, here you are, half asleep and completely in love. 

“You tired?” He murmurs, his breath against your ear. His fingers rest on top of your head; not necessarily petting, but rather holding. Like he wants to keep you all to himself. 

You shake your head against his chest, listening to the fire crack across the room. You run your hand up his arm to his bicep, feeling the muscle flex beneath your touch involuntarily. 

His laugh is warm and low, and rustles the little hairs across your forehead. He pushes them back with a warm palm. “Are you lyin’ to me, baby?” 

You smile against his flannel before you can help yourself. You stretch out, legs straightening where they lay atop his. “No.”

He doesn’t believe you, this you know. You bet that he can feel your muscles relaxing, your body sinking into his and the couch at the same time. His hand slides down the slope of your back, squeezing your hip. “I have something to show you.”

You perk up slightly. Joel has never been the biggest gift giver, something you never really minded. Occasionally, he’d come back from patrol with a book that had survived or wildflowers that he picked. Whenever you asked why, he’d simply say “was thinking of you” and kiss your cheek. 

Now, you put it together, this might be the reason for his quietness. Who knew that this man, who has seen and experienced true horrors in the past couple of decades, could get this shy?

“What is it?” Your voice is groggy from your dozing as you pick your head up to look at him. There’s a softness in his eyes, the one that he saves for you, like the rest of the world doesn’t deserve to see him this open. His hand slides down from your head to your cheek, his thumb brushing against the highest part of your cheekbone, giving it a loving pinch. 

He hesitates now, eyes flickering between you and the stairs that lead upstairs. He shifts under you, giving your butt a squeeze through your jeans, ushering you up. When you move off him, he’s off and up the stairs before you can say anything. Less than a minute later, he’s back, holding something behind him. 

You smile, somewhat flustered and confused. “What are you hiding, Miller?”

His grin is even more flustered. If you look closely, beneath the scruff, you’d be able to see more hints of his rosy face. He stands in front of the couch now, shifting from foot to foot. You’ve seen him blood and bruised, enraged and dejected. But this, the shyness, is more vulnerable than any other emotion you’ve seen him express. 

“Was gonna wait, but I ain’t good at that.” He takes a seat on the coffee table, which groans under his weight, his knees knocking yours. 

You hold your hand out, less demanding and more impatient. “What is it?”

What he places in your hand is not at all what you expect. It’s a jewelry box, one that opens to show a small compartment. The inside is even squared off into sections, like he knows that you keep your earrings and necklaces separate. The outside is a dark, polished wood. Right before you’re about to look up, you notice something engraved on the top. Your initials. 

“Joel,” you breathe out through a sigh. Meeting his eyes, he looks like he’s bracing himself for the worst. As if you would hate his gift. “Did you make this?”

He shrugs but the tips of his ears are red. You run your fingers over the smooth wood, a little uneven in places like it’s been carved and sanded by hand. His hands. The same hands that hold you every night, that make you breakfast and pinch your cheeks. And now they’ve made something for you. 

“The top corner is chipped,” He says suddenly, running his hand over his too-long beard. “And the polish is too dark on the bottom. It was-”

You cut him off when you reach over to hold both of his hands in yours, the jewelry box on the couch cushion beside you. “Can’t believe you,” you say against his knuckles, pressing kisses to the tops of his hands. “It’s perfect, Joel. Thank you.”

He huffs out a laugh, just a gust of air. “I’m glad you like it.” He’s quiet for a few moments, watching you with that same look he always has when it’s just you two. “I've never been.. good at talkin. Figure I do something else for you.” 

“It’s perfect,” you repeat, tugging at his hands until he sits on your other side. You curl into him like you are magnets, coming together with a pull neither of you could resist. Not that you would ever want to. Your legs drape over his thighs, his arm coming around your shoulders to pull you against him. You both sit like that for a few soft moments, listening to the light drizzle outside and the crackling of the fire. 

“Was scared you weren’t gonna like it,” he murmurs. His lips brush against your temple in an almost kiss. “That you’d think it was dumb.”

You tilt your head to look at him. From this close, you can see the light gray hairs spattering his temples, his beard. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes from smiling. 

“Are you kidding? I love it,” you say, your voice thick with adoration for this grumpy but kind man that you somehow ended up with. “I love you.”

Joel’s eyes flicker over your face; your eyes, your mouth, your eyes again. He looks like he's searching your face for something, a lie maybe; not that he’ll ever find one. He deserves to be loved like this, to be appreciated. 

He swallows, jaw twitching like there’s a dozen things that he wants to say. He threads your fingers together on top of his lap, his thumb slowly brushing over your knuckles, like he’s trying to memorize you. “I love you,” he finally whispers back, his voice low but earnest. 

You’re both quiet for the next couple minutes, soaking up everything around. His arm around you, his hand in yours, his breath by your ear. Joel shifts eventually, kissing the crown of your head because he can. 

“You hungry?” he mumbles. “Can make you somethin.”

You smile into his shoulder, his soft flannel tickling your cheek. “Only if  you make those weird egg things.”

“They ain’t weird. Anway, you seem to like them just fine.”

You kiss his scruffy jaw. “I like you just fine,” you tease, in the way you know drives him crazy.

He huffs, flustered; but he’s smiling. And that’s enough. That’s all you need. 

criticism is welcome as long as it’s kind ✮⋆˙

i’m very new to writing ✮⋆˙

[aliwritex]

my dirtt thoughts are virgin!isack × reader where he's obssessed with them but so shy

i don’t love this but i do love the idea. i just felt like i didn’t do it right, im still trying to figure him out.

virgin!isack thoughts

He wasn’t going to say anything when you started seeing each other, he was hoping to lie his way out of that one, just ignoring, if it were to happen with you he would just let you think he was terrible. There was no chance he would tell you he was a virgin.

Or that’s what he thought, till you were making out on your couch after a dinner date and his hands had started shaking. You tried to ignore it, you didn’t want to make him feel ashamed but you could tell there was something up.

“Isack? What’s wrong?” you looked down at him with his face in your hands.

“Nothing”

“Isack, you're shaking.” your hands reached around your waist, taking his. “Maybe we should do something else”

“No, no” he said, his accent thick as he tried kissing you again.

“I can’t do this when you’re in this state, c’mon. Wanna talk? Tell me something?” you had his hands in yours, caressing them with your thumbs.

“Yes” he sounded defeated, his head hanging low, “I didn’t want to say anything cause it’s so embarrassing but I guess I should. I’m a virgin” he blurted out.

“That’s okay, that’s not something to be embarrassed about. Do you actually want to do this?”

“I do. I want you. But I don’t think I can…” he trailed off, looking down at his lap and clearing his throat “I’m just not gonna be able to… at least not tonight, I think I killed the vibe. I’m sorry” he mumbled.

“It’s okay, Isack.” you took his face in your hands, making him look back up at you. “Do you want to stay over? It’s late to drive back alone.”

Isack agreed and slept over and since that night you had somewhat of an established relationship. You started seeing each other more and not only dates.

The problem was, being around you all the time Isack was starting to lose his mind. Anytime he was at your place you would drive him insane — changing in front of him, kissing him for way too long just to pull away after, sleeping way too close and waking up with your ass right to his crotch.

And you weren’t making a move. You told yourself you’d be patient, let him decide when he was ready. But Isack was waiting for that move. He didn’t have the confidence to come up to you. Anytime you kissed or anytime you cuddled his hands would be so polite, so you just followed his lead.

That was until one morning at your place, you woke up as the little spoon, his morning hardness pressing right against your thighs. You shuffled back towards him, letting your curiosity take over. He wasn’t completely hard, you could tell by the way it pressed against your ass when you moved, but just to know that he was sleeping in your bed with a hard on and holding you was making your blood rush south. It wasn’t just that, though. You could also feel his body against yours, all his muscles pressing behind you — his chest, his thighs and his thick arms wrapped around you.

“Isack” you called gently, brushing your palm on his arm to wake him. He just hummed, his voice deep and his accent popping out even when he wasn’t speaking. You kept rubbing his arm, starting to twist your body around to face him. He twitched a bit but still hadn’t woken up so you started peppering his face with kisses. “Isa, wake up” you told him softly.

His face scrunched up, another hum sounding through his throat. When he came to his senses and realized what was happening his eyes shot open. “Merde” he sighed, “sorry, I- I didn’t know” he started to pull away from you, his hands moving to cover himself up.

“It’s okay” you smiled at him, resting a hand on his face to help him calm down. “Can I help?”

His eyes widened again, his mouth parting but his words only came out moments later, a simple “Yes”.

“Yeah? You sure?” you asked, resting your hands on his covered chest.

He just nodded, stealing a kiss from your lips. You smiled at his eagerness and relaxed your mouth, letting him kiss you deeper. He hugged you closer, letting his hand meet the back of your neck. You started lowering your hands, your palms feeling his chest and his stomach through his shirt, till they reached his shorts.

“On your back” you guided gently, pulling away from his kiss to get him settled. “Take this off” your voice was soft and somewhat sultry as you talked him through the steps.

Once his shirt was off you ran a finger right down his middle, between his pecks down to his bellybutton as you kissed his neck. It made him shiver and smile. Your lips were brushing against his neck, going over the spots that you had already learned were sensitive, kissing and breathing against the skin to drive him crazy. His breath was already shaking and you had barely done anything to him.

“Gonna touch you now” you whispered, just to make sure he was okay and he nodded.

Your hand went past the band of his shorts, no underwear in your way, so your palm met his warm shaft immediately. His breathing faltered a little as soon as you touched him, but your lips moved back to his, calming his nerves as your hand wrapped around his shaft. You couldn’t help but smile at his reactions, so true and raw, at any of your movements. Your hand pumped him slowly, a couple times just to get him ready, you didn’t want to give him a half-assed dry hand job for his first experience, you wanted to make him absolutely lose it.

So that’s why your hand was quickly back on his chest, caressing his muscles. You threw a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. He looked up at you, trying to hold back a smile as his hands met your hips.

“No need to be shy” you teased, moving his hands to hold you under your top as you folded over his body, bending to kiss him and shuffling your hips to be sat right on top of him. He let out a high pitched sigh, making himself blush and you both chuckled. He shook his head, moving his hands to cover his face. “No, no” you chuckled, pulling his hands away from his face, “here,” you guided them back to your hips.

You took off your shirt, watching his reaction – his lips curling up as you revealed your bare chest. You kissed up your way to his face, moving from his chest to his neck, leaving a kiss right behind his ear before meeting his lips. You took his hands in yours, holding them to your hips as you started moving them, back and forth.

“Can I touch?” he asked shyly.

“Of course.” You took your hands to his face, holding as you kissed him, feeling his hands run up your body till they reached your chest. His long fingers wrapped around your boobs, your nipples poking his palms as he squeezed them, making you smile against his lips. “Like them? " you teased while moving your hips.

“They feel great,” he chuckled, “they always look so good, I’ve always wanted to touch” he confessed shyly.

“You could’ve just asked, Isa. Just ask, that’s how it works”

“Can you fuck me, then?” he asked almost desperately, making you chuckle.

“Yeah,” you nodded “I can”

You shuffled off his lap, making him groan as your ass dragged against him. You managed to take off your tiny shorts and your underwear while still lying on the bed. His hands reached back for you, wrapping around your waist and pulling you back on top.

“No, here, let me teach you.” you stayed on your back, guiding him to move till he was hovering you. His arms looked insane by the sides of your head, like they could crush you. Your hands pushed his shorts down till he was able to completely get rid of them, then it was just his hard cock hanging down, brushing your stomach. “Give me your hand”

You guided his hand between your legs, taking his fingers between your lips, his jaw dropped when he felt your cunt, wet and needy. You made sure that he spread your wetness around, getting you ready for him. Then you took his cock in your hand, while he watched the entire thing, brushing his tip between your lips a couple times. Your actions made you both sigh in relief, smiling till his tip met your hole.

“You okay?” you asked and he nodded. So you took your other hand to his ass, pushing him in. A dragged moan left his lips till he bottomed out, when he let his body fall on top of yours. You caressed his hair, kissing his neck and face as you waited for him to come back to himself. “Feel good?” you whispered after a while and he groaned, making you smile.

“Trop bon” he whispered back.

“You can move whenever you want, Isa. Take your time” you whispered to his ear.

He lifted his face from your shoulder looking at you for a second before kissing you again. He lifted his hips and slowly pushed in again, his breath shaking. You couldn’t stop smiling at him, you just wanted him to feel good.

His first movements were too slow and had no pace but you were still caressing him, kissing his face and with your hand on his ass guiding his hips, Isack picked up a pace. He was still slow but steadier, deeper, filling you up perfectly. He was trying to hold back moans, you could tell, but that was something you would work on some other time, that morning you just wanted him to feel good.

“I can’t” he whispered, accent thick, heavy in his voice “I’m gonna- fuck- putain” he sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder again.

Your hand ran through his hair again, “It’s okay, let it go, darling”

His body tensed, hips stuttering as he groaned against your neck. You held him close, one arm wrapped around his neck, nails running up and down his scalp, the other pressing his ass further, making him cum deep inside you. His breath was warm and shaky on your neck as he let himself go, his body collapsing on top of yours.

“‘M sorry” he mumbled against your neck after a moment “I didn’t mean for it to be so fast”

“It’s okay, Isack. I actually expected this to go a lot worse” you assured him, a soft chuckle leaving your lips.

“Is it okay that I- uhm, inside?” he worried, making you chuckle more.

“Isa, if there was anything I didn’t like I would’ve told you, and you should always do the same. Just communicate, yeah?” you told him calmly and he nodded “Now, you can stay as long as you like but we should probably eat something in a bit”

He nodded, “can we go have breakfast somewhere?”

“I’d love that”

[otsalezu]

Dr. Pinington One Shot 2: Lobotomy Boogaloo

Credit to the amazing @babyblankyerror for the AU and the amazing @coniferouspines for the AU of the AU! I took some liberties with it but I hope you guys enjoy! Writing below the cut, as usual.

The living room was completely silent, save for the constant tapping of Stan’s finger on any nearby surface. The man’s fidgeting didn’t seem nervous, being almost subconscious if anything. In contrast, Ford sat uncomfortably still. He cursed himself for letting Fiddleford go out for groceries on his own. He’d simply been too awkward to join the man, and his research partner took no extra time escaping the strange faux doctor in the room. 

The awkward silence gave Ford some extra time to examine just how much his brother had changed. The clothes, for one, were definitely out of place. Slightly tattered and stained, draped in a long lab coat. The silliness of the name tag and various cartoony designs stitched across the lab coat reminded him more of something his brother would have done when they were little. His hair was long and matted, as if it hadn’t been brushed in a long time. The signature curls it had once sported were completely gone. Even more worrying were the long stitches that seemed to cover his hands. They seemed expertly done, but Ford had no doubt he had done them himself. Various smaller scars littered his visible skin, barely standing out unless he squinted. 

Most concerning was the eye. Pale blue, the pupil much too small. It stared ahead, as if looking past him. He tried not to say anything, but the gaze seemed to draw the question out of him. Before he could even think about what he was saying, he had blurted it out.

“What happened to your eye?” He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, but the man didn’t seem offended. If anything, his grin widened.

“Oh, that’s right! You wouldn’t know! Hmm…where do I start? Oh! Okay, let’s start with my old boss!”

“Your old boss removed your…?”

“No, nothing as crude as that! Let me finish, okay? So! I was a good worker, very good if I say so myself! But! I had a problem. You know me, Six. Always rebellious! Stubborn as a mule, that’s what ma always said! So my boss did a little research.”

Stan laughed, a disjointed and wheezy sound. Then, after a few coughs, his face twisted into a thoughtful expression.

“Say, brainiac, you know what a topectomy is?”

“Ah, I can’t say I do.”

“Hmm, that’s what I thought. Okay, do you know what a transorbital lobotomy is?”

The world seemed to screech to a halt. Nothing about his brother’s demeanor had changed, still the same eerie cheeriness as before. To Ford, however, he felt like throwing up. As if not noticing his brother’s change in demeanor, the doctor continued.

“Well, they needed to do it through the eye.”

He tapped the blue iris, grinning as if he;d just told a great joke.

“Isn’t it wonderful? It was all very experimental, of course. I wish they’d filmed it! Of course, I made it a bit difficult. For some stupid reason, I went down kicking and screaming. Weird, isn’t it? Well! They tried their best, but sadly I woke up in the middle. The doctor they hired wasn't a professional, not like me! So he startled easily, and…squish!”

Ford jumped at the onomatopoeia, cringing. His vision blurred slightly, as he processed what had just been told to him.

“Stan…”

“Of course, I thanked them all after. They all got free procedures!”

“Stan, you…”

“I got to take over that old doctor’s office. Very unprofessional, he barely even sterilized his station! But I was so much better than him, really. It was no big loss! But I’m not ungrateful. As thanks for him fixing me with his procedure, I modeled my new eye after his! Pretty, isn’t it? Wanna see it closer?”

“Stanley!”

The doctor startled, confusion flashing on his usually jovial face. Ford took in a ragged breath, swallowing the bile in his throat.

“Are you telling me someone tried to lobotomize you?”

“Well, yes! That’s what I just told you about. Always so silly, Sixer. But don’t look so sad! My hands have been so much steadier ever since! I’m twice the surgeon I was before!”

“Before?”

Stan opened up his lab coat, fishing out a photograph from one of the many mismatched pockets inside.

“Here! Take a look!”

The photo of Stan had two brown eyes, and significantly less stitches. He was standing near a few unfamiliar men, in what seemed to be a dingey excuse for a doctor’s office. He had the same wobbly smile on his face, though every part of his face seemed laced with fear. His hands were slightly blurry, as if they had been shaking when the photo was taken. Stan quickly stuffed the picture back in the pocket.

“What a wreck, right? I was horrible at my job! Just horrible! But now, I don’t get all anxious and shaky. You can trust me to perform any operation!”

“I’m so sorry. Stanley, I’m so—”

“Don’t apologize! It’s a bad picture, I understand!”

“That’s not—”

“Hey, why are we talking about my dumb old past! I’m much better now, that’s all that matters!”

Ford stared at his twin’s expression. It seemed just as happy as ever, but something about it was different. It was as if looking at the old photograph made him uneasy, uncomfortable. Ford didn’t understand it, but he didn’t want Stanley to be upset. Not after all he’d talked about. A pang of guilt rang out through him as he thought about how terrified he’d been just moments ago.

“Alright, Lee. We can talk about something else.”

The old childhood nickname made Stan’s face split into that unsettling grin, though it didn’t disturb Ford half as much anymore. He smiled a faint smile in return, sitting back down.

“Well, let me tell you about my first day in Gravity Falls…”