#can i have one peaceful day where I don't cry over him

[sapphirerogers]

@amarriageoftrueminds @stuckyfingers do we know if the super soldier serum self-replicates once it's in the blood? Cause if it doesn't, that means every time a super soldier loses too much blood they lose part of the serum too with no way to replace the lost amount-

[shaisuki]

❝ I STILL THINK OF MY EX SOMETIMES, SOMETIMES. ❞

cw: stalking + yandere-ish gojo + implied babytrapping + power imbalances + forced affection + smut.

ex-boyfriend gojo who says that the break up was mutual. it was not. you broke up with him. reasoning that you both have your differences and the miscommunication are taking a toll in both of your relationship and decided it was better to break it off than cause further damages to you both.

ex-boyfriend gojo who made peace with it. he says but he's not. he struggles with it a lot and a lot means staring at your pictures every night and pathetically jerks with it.

ex-boyfriend gojo who have made flings every now and then, it's a good distraction but it's not when you haunts him with his memories of you. wishing it was you underneath him and not some random girl he's fucking with

ex-boyfriend gojo stalking your every social now and then. he looks out for possible rivals he may have in the near future. checking every update and he smiles when he sees you posting random things that he knows that makes you happy. a selfie of you. a random puppy you're holding. a book that you're currently reading and everything that is related to you. he saves them on his phone. his fingers having a mind of their own and tapping the save button.

ex-boyfriend gojo staying up late and thinks about the whole relationship he had with you. sure it was wonderful but you both are flawed especially him. it wasn't your fault that you gave up, he gave up first. his regrets dawning onto him why he gave you up when he should have fought. he knows you still cry at night blaming for the relationship you have no control over.

ex-boyfriend gojo replays the voicemails just to hear your voice once again. playing the videos when you both are still together. your laughter filling the silence of his bedroom and his own thoughts. staring longingly at you and it just hurts that everything still reminded him of you.

ex-boyfriend gojo who frequents the places that you two used to visit. the museum. the aquariums and any places where he can think of. eating alone at your favorite places hoping that you can come back and join him but it was nothing and it just the bitterness he feels being surrounded by the couples around him.

ex-boyfriend gojo who gets drunk and moans about you to his colleagues without him realizing it. sober he sounds when he told them about you and it's everything's clear that he is the problem and it's not you. he wakes up and then forgets like nothing ever happened like he didn't just pour his heart out to his colleagues the night before.

ex-boyfriend gojo decides that he should keep his distance at you so both of you could move and get with each other's lives but takes it back cause he's just a man. wanting you to be by his side, like the old days when you're both happy.

ex-boyfriend gojo turning into one of those stalkers but he's not. he's just following you home. making sure you're safe and don't mind him if he follows you to work. he's keeping an eye to you. frowning and glaring at every man that dares to look at you and ask you for a date. how dare they! it's sad when he sees you not smiling from what he's doing but it's fine. you can smile around him. he should be the reason you're smiling.

ex-boyfriend gojo breaks in to your home just to watch you sleep. watching as your chest heaves as you breathe. sometimes he lays besides you just to stare and pretends that everything's fine just the way they are and he's not your ex-boyfriend that's a stalker who likes watching his ex sleeps.

ex-boyfriend gojo solemnly touches your round cheeks smooched in the pillow. he imagines you melting in his touch and stays there and you would close your eyes cause you're that comfortable around him. that you trusted him and his fingers would slowly descend to your soft lips. the very lips that he kisses every time he can get. the very lips that gets swollen when he's swept away to his desires.

ex-boyfriend gojo then his sight drops to your plush body. generous with curves that every night he gives them the love it deserves. your soft pajamas adorning your voluptuous body that it's hard to keep his advances knowing it's his weakness. it won't right if he touches you? he did it plenty. break up or not. you will always belong to him.

ex-boyfriend gojo who leaves for the night. afraid that he can't control himself and lose himself in the moment with you and you'll hate him more. he can't have that.

ex-boyfriend gojo that visits you daily after that. there is something sad of how your face is stained with tears. probably crying from how he have hurt you and it wasn't his intention. he tenderly wipes the tears and wishes you're awake and apologize for the time he had hurt you.

ex-boyfriend gojo who makes sure to leave gifts at your doorstep. the flower deliveries every day and the little notes that comes with it. saying how sorry and lovely you are at the same time. it didn't deter him that you just casually ignores it. you'll soften at him in no time.

ex-boyfriend gojo who got tired of being in the shadows. showing at your doorstep without warning and straights up asks you to be with him again. whom you rejected without thinking twice. it's over, you tell him and he doesn't take that seriously.

ex-boyfriend gojo unceremoniously shows at every place where you go. asking you the same question and he gets the same answer from you that it's starting to affect your relationships with others and your personal life.

ex-boyfriend gojo kneeling in front of you at the confines of your home and he's close to kissing your feet which you forbid him to and you just burst into tears. telling him that why he can't understand that you two are over and it won't change.

ex-boyfriend gojo who proves you wrong. bugging you every moment he can get and changing all the things that cause this and would humble himself in front of you just to proves that he really loves and cares for you.

ex-boyfriend gojo who forces you to get back to him. leaving you no choice but to take him back and it's the worst decision you ever made cause now he just won't leave you alone.

“satoru, stop.” you say to him as you grabbed his hands who's hard on trying prying your thick thighs open just to get that goodness he's been missing for months. why would you even try that you're no match for his strength and you gave up but it doesn't mean you're not resisting him.

“missed this pussy, baby.” he hums before diving back again to your soaked cunt. his nose nudging your clit as he fucks you with his tongue. wiggling it inside that your thighs are clenching around his head. despite a warning to stop his advances, it encourages him more. he makes sure you've cummed thrice before he's caging you in his arms.

his cock hard and beads of precum are leaking while he slowly thrusts into your fat pussy and when he bottomed out. groaning and almost drooling at the tightness of your pussy. you were filled many times that night and you wake up feeling sore that you can barely walk.

ex-boyfriend gojo that have his whims in getting back at you and now he's your boyfriend and soon-to-be husband after knocking you up with his brat. ensuring that you won't leave him again and there's no reason for a break-up. he's just that insufferable.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

So excited for your requests to be open! I know you'll feed us well with your content, whether it's full fics, hc, imagines, blurbs, or even just yapping

"I want to be good. I want to be good for you, but I just don't know how"

A little angsty number with AK!Jason por favor 🙏🏽

Hurt/Comfort, my beloved (And anything with AK!Jason Todd is my kryptonite fr) ~1.4K words

The Arkham Knight can only be described as dangerous. He's a lethal, brutal example of a man with nothing to lose. He's a trained, efficient machine with one mission– one purpose. His sights are set and focused solely on his revenge, on owning Gotham.

So you don't exactly know where you fit in. You. His– his something. Partner isn't quite the right word, but you don't know what else to call him. He crawls into your bed at the oddest hours of the morning, sits across from you at inconsistent, sporadic meals, drops lavish presents on your laps like a cat bringing home dead or dying prey.

He's tangled himself into the very fabric of your life, and for better or worse, you can't imagine your world without him. At some point between him moving your belongings to his apartment (though you would argue the loft apartment above the warehouse filled with tanks and drones is hardly a home) and the first time The Arkham Knight (not Jason) kissed you, he became a permanent fixture in your days and weeks.

You think you might love him. You do love him, actually. Even if you can't bear to say the words out loud– to threaten the tentative peace of a relationship that is and isn't something more– you love him. No matter if what he does– what he's doing– is right or wrong, your very soul craves to be at his side. It doesn't even matter what 'being at his side' looks like anymore.

Jason could never visit you while the sun shines, he could disappear for months on end, he could ask you to throw away your morals and dreams just to be with him. And you would. In some ways, you already have.

But he did fail. He didn't kill Batman. Gotham is still standing. And all that's left of The Arkham Knight is kneeling in front of you, fingers curled into the hem of your shirt like he can't bring himself to touch you– but can't bear to let you go.

You just never imagined he would feel anything like that towards you– at least not anything more than what he already gives you. (That alone feels like a gift, when a man so scarred trusts you enough to close his eyes and relax into your shoulder, when he lets you trace the lines of his face without flinching)

So you don't know what to do when that lethal, terror-inspiring man you've come to know better than anyone else fails. It's something that was never in either of your plans, something you couldn't have begun to suspect, even in your more cynical moments. 

He's crying– sobbing– broken gasps escaping from his throat like he forgot how to breathe. His eyes are manic, darting over your face like there might be something there to save him. And you want to, of course you want to, but you're in your own state of shock.

You don't know how to treat this version of Jason. You're used to The Arkham Knight– him, you know how to cater to, what to say, what to do, when to touch him. But this Jason looks broken, shattered into pieces, so different from the harsh, biting person you know so well. (The one you fell in love with all over again)

"Please," he chokes out– he begs, begs like he expects it to save him, like he has no other choice than to throw himself at your mercy. 

Your silence, your lack of motion, must go on for too long. You can tell he takes it as a sign that you're planning something, that some form of goodbye is forming on your tongue.

You can tell he's thinking the worst in this moment, you can see it in the way his face flickers with anguish, the way his hands grasp and tug desperately at your clothes like it might change your mind.

It makes you want to vomit, that whatever happened between him and Bruce drove him to this state. He truly believes he has to beg to get you to listen, that he has to plead and crawl and offer whatever he thinks you need to hear to get you to stay. 

"Please," he starts again, his ragged breathing making his words garbled and raspy, "I can't– I don't know what to do. I lost and– I– I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry. I want to be good," He stumbles out into your shirt, pressing kisses over your stomach as if it might please you– earn your favor, "I want to be good for you, but I just don't know how. I'll be good. I'll– I swear, I'll–"

Your throat tightens as he sinks into himself, mumbling your name like a hallowed prayer. He buries his face in your stomach, hiding from the weight of your gaze. You know you need to react, offer him what he needs, but you don't know what it is anymore.

You don't know what comfort you could give, not when he's so unrecognizably erratic, so lost in his own failures and torments. You don't know this Jason, and it scares a small part of you to admit that.

You can't take another moment of it– all of it. You want to run, gather your thoughts and feelings, and break down because he's crying, and you didn't know he still could. But running would break him, tear him down further than he's already fallen. 

So, you do what you've been wanting to since he crawled into your window with a broken helmet and chest empty of the emblem he remade himself in. 

He freezes, sobs stalling his chest, and you have to believe that this is enough, that you can pour everything you can't say into the way you cup his face to wipe his tears, the way you kiss him like your life depends on it. 

You carefully untangle his fingers from your shirt, and he looks up at you, face streaked with tears that don't seem to end, and you sink to the floor to be level with him.

You don't know if what you do next is the right answer, but when you don't have the words to explain how he fills the emptiness in your chest, how your days begin and end with the thought of him, you hope kissing him is enough until you do. 

But he doesn't react, doesn't move under your touch, and you wonder if you've got it wrong. You pull away to ask, to offer apologies of your own, but he's never been very good at letting you get far from him. The Arkham Knight– Jason crashes into you like he'll never get another chance to kiss you.

You need it to be enough. You need him to know that you love him and winning or losing, Arkham Knight or not, you have never stopped loving Jason Todd.

There's no escaping it, no burying it down or leaving it behind. Whatever form it takes, whatever form he takes, you can't fight the feeling that swells in your chest every time his eyes meet yours, every time the ghost of a smile paints his face.

Fingers curled around the back of your neck, nails nearly digging into your skin with a force that sends you both tumbling to the ground. But he never stops kissing you, and you never stop pulling him closer, as if it could save you both. 

His hands do the same, crushing you to him with the thought that it'll get you to stay.

You think it might just fix something, because he's mumbling thank yous against your mouth like you've dragged him out of hell. And maybe you have.

It's a thought too heavy when you can taste his tears on your tongue, when all you can offer him in the moment are harsh, unyielding kisses and hands that grab desperately at his back, hoping it will keep him with you.

You still don't know how to treat this version of Jason, what the right way to comfort him is. But he kisses the curve of your jaw the same way, hovers over your pulse for nearly a beat too long when he drags his mouth down your throat like he always does, and you decide you want to learn.

You don't know if The Arkham Knight is gone, and you're still not quite sure where you fit with him, but Jason's eyes still flash in the same delighted way when your nails scratch a little too roughly at the back of his skull, and you think you know enough.

[bucksangel]

don't blame me (love made me crazy)

Pairing: softdark!stalker!bucky x reader

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: You’ve been stuck in this cabin for a year, and over the course of that time you’ve tried so hard to remember that you didn’t come here willingly. But, Bucky is really good at making you forget that part, until, eventually, you come to believe that this is where you’re meant to be. No matter how you got here.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! Minors DNI, references to kidnapping, full on stockholm syndrome, smut, wet dreams, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft love-making mixed with some roughness, squirting, crying is healthy, a little hurt-comfort, alpine makes an appearance

a/n: this is part 2 to temptation!! However, you don’t necessarily need to read part 1 to understand this, it will just give some backstory.  not beta-read so all mistakes are my own.

masterlist | tip jar | ao3

Soft, plush lips are brushing over yours, hands caressing your sides and squeezing every so often, your hips rocking. You’re not quite sure where you are or who is touching you, you can only make out the hazy form above you; bright blue eyes darkened by desire stare down at you. The person pulls back at the same time you feel a pressure between your legs. Upon looking down, you see a toned stomach clenching every time their hips meet the back of your thighs. You’re spread open, gasping and whining as more pressure builds. Slowly trailing your gaze upwards, your eyes roam over an equally chiseled chest, your eyes catching the reflection of light on metal. And that’s when you know who it is that’s currently inside you, but you don’t seem to believe it until you look up further and come face to face with – 

Bucky. It’s Bucky, his smile so soft and loving, his breath fanning over your face as he whispers praises into the air. You can’t make out what he’s saying, everything is still too fuzzy, all you know is that you’re about to cum. You can feel it, you can practically taste it, and you’re sure Bucky can tell because he shudders when you involuntarily clench around him.

“Angel,” He whispers, cutting through the fog in your head. You whine, wiggling your hips slightly to get him to go faster. He doesn’t.

“Angel,” He says again, louder this time. You can feel yourself rocking, and more whines and whimpers spill from your lips.

Your body is shaken a little harder, and all at once, the haze is gone.

The haze is gone, now replaced by the soft light of the sun streaming in through the curtains. Upon opening your eyes, you blink slowly, staring up at a smiling Bucky with bleary eyes.

“B-Bucky?” You mumble, voice thick with sleep. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost seven-thirty. I was going to wake you up so we could shower together, but you looked so peaceful that I decided to let you sleep in a little longer.” His smile gives away that he probably knew what you were dreaming about, and the thought makes your face grow hot. There’s a stickiness between your legs, one that you’re desperately trying to ignore as you sit upright.

“Oh, I - I’m sorry,” You say remorsefully, you know how much Bucky likes keeping you on a routine. You’re supposed to wake up at seven every morning, shower with Bucky, and then sit on his lap as he feeds you whatever he made for breakfast that day. So, for him to disrupt your schedule, even by thirty minutes, feels weird. You decide not to question it for the time being.

“No, baby, it’s okay,” Bucky says as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know we did a lot of gardening yesterday so being in that heat probably made you extra tired. But, now that you’re up, why don’t you go ahead and get showered while I make us some food, yeah?”

Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know it’s not. You don’t really get a say in anything, but… but that’s your life now, isn’t it? Not being able to decide for yourself, having no freedom from outside of the confines of this cabin that you’ve been trapped in for… god, who knows how long.

Without wasting much time, you slide out of bed, stopping to give Bucky a smile and a kiss before you go into the bathroom. When you enter, you make sure to leave the door halfway open, another thing Bucky likes. He doesn’t like the idea of a barrier between you two, always needing easy access in case you somehow injure yourself, or he just needs some extra love and doesn’t want to waste time by fiddling with the doorknob. 

Your movements are almost robotic as you take off your clothes, once again ignoring the ache between your thighs as you toss your clothes in the hamper. You try not to look at yourself in the mirror, you actually hate doing it. Because the person who looks back at you is supposed to be you. The person in your reflection is supposed to have life in her eyes, her face shouldn’t have a permanent frown etched onto it whenever she doesn’t have to plaster on a fake smile for Bucky.

Except… is it fake? It’s been so long since you’ve seen your friends and family, your loyal customers at the coffee shop you used to hate working at but now would give anything to go back to, you’d happily take the yelling from angry customers over their drinks being wrong than being held in the middle of the woods by a man who desperately needs intense therapy. He told you he used to go before you ‘moved’ in, as he likes to say, but now with you around he doesn’t feel the need to go. He has all of his happiness right in his home every day.

And it’s getting significantly harder to convince yourself that this isn’t what you want, you don’t want to be confined to this cabin and the garden surrounding it. It’s so fucking hard to forget that this isn’t the fairytale romance you had envisioned as a kid, but it’s also hard to remember your life before Bucky. Because he’s just so damn sweet and loving that it’s fucking with your mind, it makes you want to scream.

Bucky goes out and buys you flowers every Sunday, making sure to write a heartfelt message on the card attached to the bouquet by a ribbon. He built a huge library before you got here and let you pick the trinkets and books that would fill the shelves. He even bought gardening supplies after a few months when he realized you were getting too cooped up and gave you access to the space in the backyard.

You like to think that if you met under better circumstances then your relationship would be vastly different. It would be happy for both of you, not just one-sided. However… would it really be so bad to just give in? By now you know you’re never escaping, and you’re tired of being so despondent all the time, you’re tired of dreading another day with your captor.

You’re just tired. Of everything.

It takes effort to pull your gaze away from the mirror, but you eventually reach into the shower to turn the water on. When it’s warm enough, you step inside, letting the hot water cascade over your body and soothe the ache in your soul. And while standing under the stream your mind wanders back to your dream.  You’ve been having these dreams more and more over the last few weeks. They don’t happen every night, and it’s not always the same scenario, but the overall theme of the dreams is just the same.

You’d bet you’ve been in this cabin for almost a year, judging by the change in weather reminiscent of when you were taken. And in that time, Bucky has made no sexual advancement towards you. His affection usually consists of kisses, cuddles, and gentle massages when he wants you to really relax. There might be a bit of groping when you’re in the shower together, but he’s done nothing more than that, and that confuses you even more. You figured at first that maybe he was just going to let you acclimate to this new environment before making his move, but he’s done no such thing. He’s been very clear in his pure intentions, has never made you feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do.

But why? Isn’t your sole reason for being here to please him?

Once again, it confuses you, and when you move your head slightly some of the water splashes onto your face, knocking you out of your thoughts. Deciding you’ve dwelled enough, you grab your loofah and start washing your body, trying to ignore the ache in between your thighs as you give your legs a cursory wash. And as you continue through your shower, you can hear Bucky’s footsteps on the carpet in your bedroom.

You know that he’s a trained assassin, can sneak up on someone without them hearing anything, but Bucky’s told you he doesn’t want to scare you. He did once when you first got here. He didn’t have any intentions of spooking you, he just wanted to come up behind you and wrap his arms around you while you cooked. But you ended up nearly shrieking and almost spilling the sauce you were making, and Bucky felt so guilty that he didn’t touch you for two days until you convinced him that you weren’t scared of him, you were just surprised because you didn’t hear him coming. So now Bucky always makes sure to walk a little heavier to alert you of his presence.

“Angel?” His voice echoes through the bathroom as he enters, the door opening wider and allowing you to see Bucky’s hazy form from behind the glass shower door. “Are you okay?” Fuck, you’ve probably been in here too long if he’s already done with breakfast.

“Yes,” You say as you turn off the water. Upon stepping out of the shower, Bucky is there to wrap a towel around your shoulders to start drying you off. “Sorry, the hot water just felt nice.”

Bucky chuckles as he rubs the towel over your body, smiling at you the way he always does – that he can never really believe that you’re real.

“It’s okay, angel,” He says as he puts the towel in the hamper and turns to grab one of his shirts that he loves seeing you wear. “But I’m sure my excellent cooking will be enough reason to get out.” At that, he laughs again, and you do too, because his cooking isn’t all that great. He’s gotten much better over the last year, but it could still be better.

“It always is.”

“You’re lying and I know it.” Bucky laughs again and squints his eyes at you, giving you a teasing glare after he pulls the shirt over your head. And it makes you feel at least a little better knowing that he’s self-aware enough to know that.

“Okay, so maybe it isn’t the best food I’ve ever eaten,” You concede, holding onto Bucky’s shoulders to steady yourself as he dresses you in underwear and shorts. “But I’ll still eat anything you make because you made it.” And it kind of hurts to admit, but your sentiment isn’t a total lie. Bucky may be disturbed, but he truly puts all of his love into everything he does, and you can’t deny that he puts so much effort into making you comfortable.

Bucky’s still squatting when you say that, and he lets his hands rest on your hips while he looks up at you with nothing less than absolute adoration.

“And because you love me?” He asks, hopefully. He loves it when you say it, you’re pretty sure it’s his favorite three words he’s ever heard.

Combing your fingers through his hair, you scratch at his scalp a little and force your voice not to waver as you say, “And because I love you.”

The rest of the day goes by as it usually does; Bucky feeds you breakfast with you perched on his lap, giving you kisses in between bites and sighing wistfully every so often. Afterward, you make your way to the library and sit on the bench seat by the window, reading one of the many classics that fill the room for a couple of hours while Bucky goes out to run errands.

Although, if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re not really reading. Your eyes are skimming over the words but you’re not processing any of them. No, your mind is still focused on this morning and how real the dream felt, how a part of you that you try to ignore wants it to be real. You try to chalk it up to the fact that you haven’t been intimate with anyone in so long, but the fact that it’s Bucky you’re dreaming about makes you think that it might just be him that you want.

No. Stop it. He kidnapped you. You don’t want him.

As you’re about to give up on reading, you hear the door creak open wider. Looking up, you see Bucky standing in the doorway, shuffling nervously and fiddling with his fingers.

“Is everything okay, Bucky?” You close the book and set it aside, your eyebrows furrowing with worry as you walk towards him.

“I…” He trails off, briefly biting his lip before smiling wide, like a kid on Halloween that filled up his candy bag. “Just come with me.”

Bucky reaches out his hand, and you place yours in his. You’re confused, but go with him anyway. He leads you down the hallway to the spare room – you’re not sure why he included it when he built the cabin, but you’ve never asked why. When you get there, Bucky is practically vibrating with nervous excitement. He smiles at you one more time before opening the door and revealing the interior. And it’s full of cat trees and toys, and you’re momentarily confused as to why he has these before you spot a ball of white fur curled up on a mini hammock.

Immediately, you recognize it as a cat, clearly a baby considering how small it is. Bucky tugs you further into the room towards where the kitten is sleeping, stopping right in front of the hammock and moving behind you so he can wrap his arms around your waist.

“I found her a couple of days ago,” Bucky starts, and you can feel him smiling into your neck. “She was all the way out in the back of the property, shivering and dirty. She’s just so small and I knew I had to take her in before anything happened to her. I brought all the toys and cat trees in just now when you were in the library so you wouldn’t see it. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

And oh what a surprise it is. The kitten must hear Bucky talking because her eyes slowly blink open before landing on you, meowing softly and shifting in the hammock so she can lean her paws on the side and lift up in what you’re assuming is an attempt to get pets. You’re helpless but to pick her up and cuddle her close to your chest, your heart warming with affection when she nuzzles into you.

“What’s her name?” Your voice is soft because you don’t want to disturb her, and she meows again, almost like she’s thanking you for the consideration.

“I haven’t named her yet. I wanted you to.”

It takes no time at all for you to answer.

“Alpine.”

“Alpine?” Bucky sounds curious, and he kisses your temple as he moves to gently scratch behind her ears. “Why that name?”

“I don’t know,” You answer honestly. “She just looks like an Alpine.”

Bucky laughs from behind you, kissing your temple once more and nodding.

“Alpine it is.”

A few days later, you’re in Alpine’s dedicated room playing with her. She’s allowed to free roam throughout the house, but she prefers being in here – or, really, anywhere you are. She’s taken a liking to you, and you to her. She’s almost like a friend to you, someone you can turn to when you get too sad because you know she won’t judge you, she’ll give you kisses and cuddles and make you feel better within minutes. You’re currently lying on your stomach, giving Alpine head scratches and laughing softly when she nibbles at your fingers affectionately. 

“What should I do, hm?” Your question is rhetorical, you know she can’t understand you, let alone respond. Still, you like talking to her as though she can. “These… dreams are getting worse. Well, not worse per se, just – more intense. And I don’t know what to do about them. He’s never pressured me into anything, even though I’m fairly certain he does want… that.”

Sighing, you roll over onto your back, letting Alpine crawl onto your stomach and make her way up to your chest so her nose is nearly pressed against yours. And when she meows, you can’t help but smile.

“I don’t know if I want to tell him about them though. I mean, am I even ready? I’ve been here for so long and I know I’m not leaving, and he says he loves me, so I’m pretty sure he won’t make me do anything I don’t want even if I do tell him.” Pausing, you sigh, holding Alpine close to your chest while you sit up.

“What do you think, Alp? Should I tell him?” She immediately meows and lifts up to give your chin a little lick, and you smile at her. “Okay, okay.”

It takes a moment to gather yourself, letting the truth sink in.

“I’ll tell him.”

Despite not having access to any calendars, you’re pretty sure today is your anniversary. Bucky, once again, let you sleep in a little bit longer, staying in bed with you and holding you close while you traded kisses. He cooked up a huge breakfast and placed a big bouquet of roses on your nightstand, even going so far as to massage your feet and calves while you ate. Part of you doesn’t want to ask, because then it would be real. Not only have you been here for a full year, but you’ve been missing for longer than that, and that truth still hurts.

Still, you take everything he does for you gracefully, thanking him for being so thoughtful and trying not believe yourself when you tell him that you’ve never been treated so lovingly. Well, it’s kind of true, despite the fact that you didn’t come here willingly. He really does treat you with care, and his consideration of your feelings – other than the negative ones towards him – is something you haven’t experienced before.

It’s around mid-day when Bucky gives you your first gift. Well, it’s technically a joint gift for you and Alpine – an oversized hoodie with a pouch in front big enough for the kitty to snuggle in so you can carry her around the house with you without actually using your hands. It’s actually extremely thoughtful, and you can’t help but laugh when you notice that the hood has little cat ears on them.

“Thank you, Bucky,” You say after he helps you put it on, smiling wide when he picks up Alpine and helps put her inside the pocket.

“Of course, angel,” He says, also smiling. Then, he grabs his phone, pointing it at you. “Now, let me get a picture of my girls.”

You adjust your position on the couch, sitting up further and making sure Alpine’s head is poking out. Last minute, you flip up your hood, making sure the ears are visible and chuckling when you hear the rapid click of the camera as Bucky takes multiple photos. After he’s done, he pockets his phone again, coming to sit next to you on the couch and wrap one arm around you while he pets Alpine’s head with his other hand.

Everything is quiet for a little bit, both of you loving on your cat. When she starts trying to get out, presumably ready to play, Bucky helps her out of the pocket, then helps you out of the hoodie.

“Bucky?” You’re not sure why, but now feels like the right time to ask. Even though your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

“Yes, baby?”

“Um…” Sighing, you look down at your hands as you fiddle with your fingers. “I was wondering, um…”

“What’s wrong?” Bucky shifts so he’s facing you, using one hand to lift your chin so you can look at him.

“Why haven’t we had sex yet?” Your question comes out so fast that you’re unsure if Bucky actually understood you, but you don’t want to repeat yourself so you just hold your breath as you await his answer.

“What do you mean” He genuinely sounds confused, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, I just assumed that I was here to… please you. I know you love me, so I guess I’m just confused as to why you haven’t tried to do anything.” You try to breathe evenly, even though your heart is beating so fast in anxiety that you feel like you might pass out. You don’t want to upset him, so you’re hoping he doesn’t take offense to your comment.

Bucky doesn’t answer for a couple of minutes, he just sighs and dips his head low, like he’s thinking over his words carefully. But when he does speak, it surprises you.

“Because you’re not ready. You’re right when you say that I love you, which means I’m going to respect your boundaries. I don’t want to force you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”

Tears want to spring to your eyes, because at that moment you know you’re rightfully fucked. He’s just too perfect that you can’t wrap your head around this conversation. You’d never thought of it like that, that he’d want to make sure you’re comfortable with him before taking that next step. And now you know that you want to, you want to give yourself to him in that way. And, now it’s your turn to lift his head to look at you, then lace your fingers with his.

“And… what if I am ready?”

Immediately, Bucky’s eyes widen, and you think you can see a little bit of hope in his eyes. Despite your earlier nerves, you can feel in your soul that you are ready to take the leap, and you can’t help but give him a soft smile.

“Are you sure?” He asks, squeezing your hand in a loving gesture. “I don’t want you to do something just because you think I’m expecting it.”

“I know you’re not expecting anything,” You say, briefly biting your lip. “And I want to, I promise.”

Bucky sighs, then leans forward to press his lips to yours. It’s not an intense kiss, it’s a reassuring one, a kiss that lets you know he wants this too. You pull apart when your stomach starts rumbling, and you’re reminded that you haven’t eaten since this morning.

“Come on, baby, let’s make lunch.”

You’re slightly on edge for the rest of the day, awaiting the moment. Bucky hasn’t made a move yet, so you’re assuming it’s going to happen before you go to bed, and even though you’re nervous, you can’t deny that most of those nerves are from excitement.

And when the clock strikes seven, Bucky leads you out of Alpine’s room and to yours, smiling at you the entire time. Typically, Bucky likes you to be in bed by eight-thirty, but you’re assuming you’re going to be up a little later tonight which is why he wants to start early. As soon as he closes the bedroom door, you can feel your heart beat increasing, and Bucky comes up in front of you to cup your face in his hands.

“Are you positive you want this?” His eyes scan your face, looking for a hint of doubt. He finds none, because you aren’t doubting this. You’re sure you’re not going to regret this.

“I promise, Bucky.” The assuring comment comes out breathy, and your eyes travel down to his lips before looking back up into his. “I’m ready.”

Bucky hums, nodding a little before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. It slowly becomes more intense, your lips gliding against each other as your tongues start invading each others mouths. You don’t even notice when his hands land on your hips until they sneak up your shirt, causing you to squeak.

“Angel,” Bucky breathes out, removing his mouth from yours to glide down to your neck where he presses more insistent kisses, even nibbling on the skin until you’re sure you’ll have bruises. He slides his hands up to your waist, going up, up, and up until you’re prompted to lift your arms over your head so he can take off your shirt.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” He growls as his eyes scan your torso, causing you to whimper and hold onto his shoulders while you press your body closer to his.

“Bucky, please.” You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but Bucky seems to know exactly what you need.

In response to your begging, he lifts you into his arms, carrying you bridal-style to the bed until he lays you down in the middle of it. When he pulls back, he props himself up on his left forearm so he can place his flesh hand on your sternum. Dragging his hand down to your shorts, he toys with the ties, then looks up at you with a questioning look in his eyes.

“Yes,” You say when you realize he’s waiting for permission. “Please take them off, Bucky.”

He groans again, dipping his head low for a minute before undoing the ties and shifting up onto his knees so he can use both of his hands to drag your shorts down your legs. Now you’re left in just your bra and underwear, and you’re tempted to cover your body. He’s seen you naked hundreds of times, but this feels different, and you’re sure it’s because of the more intimate setting.

“Don’t,” He says adamantly, not being mean but letting you know there’s no room for discussion. “Don’t hide your body from me, angel. You’re perfect.”

Tears want to spring to your eyes, and you forget all about why you were so nervous in the first place, you don’t even know why you’ve resisted his love all this time.

“Thank you, baby,” You whimper, bringing up your hand to wipe at your eyes to get rid of the tears. “I… I love you.” And, this time, you know you mean it. You mean it with everything you have.

“I love you too. So fucking much.” Bucky smiles at you, his eyes also watery. He dips down again to kiss you, shuddering when you tug at his shirt. He moves slowly, kissing you for a few long moments until he huffs out a laugh at your insistent tugging at his shirt. “Okay, okay.”

Lifting up onto his knees, he grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head, smiling wider when he catches you practically drooling over his exposed chest. But then he freezes up, briefly glancing at his left shoulder. And, you realize now that this new intimate setting is probably getting to him too, and you know you need to get rid of those awful thoughts he has about himself.

“Buck,” You say softly, sitting up and placing your hands on his chest. Your right hand travels to his shoulder where his flesh meets metal, and you trace the scars delicately with the tips of your fingers. “Please don’t be ashamed of them. You may not like it, but the scars don’t matter to me. They’re a part of you, and I love all of you.” You can see the tears in Bucky’s eyes as you speak, his bottom lip wobbling a little as he tries not to cry.

“Are you -” Bucky stops himself, sniffles and clears his throat, then continues. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve seen it before but…”

“But nothing.” Your voice isn’t harsh, but you let him know you don’t want him to argue. “I said I love you, all of you. Don’t you believe me?”

“Of course I do!” Bucky says hurriedly, placing both of his hands over yours and squeezing them close to his chest. “I-I know you do. I love you too.” He sighs, bringing up one of your hands to kiss your knuckles. Then, he gently pushes you back onto the bed, not breaking eye contact as he shuffles off the bed so he can take off his sweats and boxers.

When they’re finally off, Bucky crawls back onto the bed, stopping at your hips so he can toy with the band of your panties. You nod at him when he looks to you for consent, and he keeps looking at you as he drags them down your legs, only breaking your gaze so he can focus on maneuvering your feet out of them. It seems like he wants to get going, but then his eyes travel to your bra-covered chest and he switches gears. Knowing what he wants, you arch your back so he can undo the hook and then you lay back down so he can throw it off to the side.

And now, you’re both naked, Bucky hovering over you and looking at you through teary eyes. He places his flesh hand on your stomach, trailing his fingers up to your breast so he can tweak one of your nipples.

“Bucky, please.”

“Don’t worry, angel,” Bucky says softly, dipping down to kiss your lips before kissing down your neck and collarbone, then stopping at your other breast so he can nibble on it. “I’ve got you, I’ve always got you,” He whispers into your skin.

“I know.” His eyes flick up to yours at the confirmation, and he smirks a little to himself as he bites down on your nipple, causing you to whimper. 

Despite your wiggling, he takes his time kissing over your chest, going down your stomach until he has to slide down the bed so he can come face-to-face with your pussy. You spread your legs of your own volition, and Bucky groans in appreciation, nuzzling his nose into your lower lips and breathing deeply.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” He nearly growls, shifting so he’s laying between your legs and placing his flesh hand on your thigh to keep you spread and using his metal hand to pull your other leg over his shoulder. “Is all this for me?” He asks, referring to the slick dripping out of your pussy.

“Yes, all for you.” You reach your hand down and card your fingers through his hair, prompting him to look up at you. “Only for you.”

Bucky swallows down his emotions, nodding at you one last time before diving in. He takes one more deep breath, nudging his nose along your folds, then using his flesh hand to spread them apart. You gasp when he drags his tongue from your quivering hole to your throbbing clit, and you’re hit with the overwhelming knowledge that you won’t last long. You haven’t been intimate with anyone – let alone had time for yourself – in so long, and Bucky seems to realize this when he pulls back just enough to mumble, “Cum whenever you need, baby. Give it to me.” 

He continues, dipping his tongue into your soaking hole, thrusting it in and out a few times before going up to nibble and suck on your clit. You don’t even realize that you’re now a blubbering mess, whining and moaning and squirming in Bucky’s hold as you feel your release build. And, you’d be embarrassed with how fast you’re about to cum considering how not-long you’ve been at this if not for Bucky’s groans of appreciation. You’re unconsciously tugging at his hair too, pulling him closer, but then your hand tightens when he suddenly prods his forefinger at your hole.

Immediately, you tense up a little, because, despite how wet you are, you’re still really tight. And Bucky’s fingers are big, so it takes a bit of shushing and sweet kisses to your thighs for you to relax enough for him to fit his finger in, but only just until the second knuckle. He pauses, letting you adjust to the intrusion, which you’re grateful for. He wiggles it a little, sucking and kissing your clit until you relax enough for him to push his finger in all the way, then pull it out so he can push it in again.

He keeps at the tortuously slow pace, carefully opening you up until he can fit a second finger in your pussy. Your breaths are coming out faster, you’re almost panting at this point as he speeds up until he’s truly fingering you, really giving you what you need. And right when you feel like you’re about to explode with pleasure, Bucky wraps his lips around your clit, bites down softly, and then sucks as shoves in a third finger and stabs at that special spot deep within you.

“Bucky! Oh, fuck, yes!” Bucky will gloat later about how loud he made you scream just from his fingers and mouth, how you squirted all over his forearm and chin. He’d also admit that he nearly blew his own load at your taste, but he wanted to save his release for you.

It takes a few long moments to come down from your high, and when you do, you see Bucky up on his knees looking down at you while fisting his cock.

“Are you sure you want this? We can stop if it’s too much.” You know Bucky doesn’t want to stop, but you also know he gladly would if you asked him to, which is how you know you want to continue.

“No stopping allowed,” You breathe out, smiling at him a little when he chuckles. “Now, please get inside me or I’ll cry.”

“There’s no need to cry right now, baby,” He says, leaning over you to prop himself up on his right forearm and grab the base of his cock with his metal hand and guide it to your entrance. “But you will be crying by the end of the night.”

You surge up to kiss him, biting his bottom lip and grasping his shoulders to brace yourself. Bucky groans, and you lay back down so you can stare into each other’s eyes as he pushes in slowly. Again, he seems to understand that even though you’ve just cum harder than you can ever remember, you’re still a little tight – especially since he’s easily the biggest man you’ve ever been with.

It takes a couple of minutes until he’s buried fully inside you. You’re whimpering while he’s biting his lip, letting out little groans. Placing his metal hand on your thigh, he spreads you open further, though not too far as to hurt you. Carefully, he pulls back, letting you get used to the movements when he pushes back in.

And it goes like this for a bit, Bucky fucking you slowly until you start wiggling your hips and clutch his shoulders.

“Pl-Please, Bucky. I – Faster.” You know you sound pathetic, but you can’t find it in you to care, mostly because your mind has floated off into space as you soak in the immense pleasure.

Bucky listens to you, taking his time in picking up the pace until you’re sure you’re about to break. He keeps mumbling praises the whole time, telling you how you’re so fucking beautiful and thank you for trusting me and god, I love you so much.

Lifting up your left leg, he places it over his shoulder, and every so often he’ll force his hips flush with the backs of your thighs and grind his hips, the tip of his cock nudging at your sweet spot and causing you to moan loudly. And, he was right, because the longer it goes on the more tears you can feel pooling in your eyes until they start streaming down your face.

“Bu – Bucky,” You can’t help but whine, your breaths coming out uneven as you try to control your emotions.

“It’s okay, angel,” He says, just this side of condescending. His tone sends shivers down your spine, and you have to force your eyes from closing because you want to see Bucky’s face for this. “I know it’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes, fuck, you’re – Ah! You’re so big!” You can see through your hazy vision that he’s smirking, though you can tell he’s close to crying too. He’s always been emotionally open, always telling you how he’s feeling and encouraging you to share yours as well. Which is why you’re comfortable with being so vulnerable in front of him.

“Are you close?” He asks, his breathing speeding up as his hips do too. “Fuck, angel. Tell me you’re close.”

“I am!” You’re practically screaming at this point with every powerful thrust he gives you. To an outsider, it may look a little like he’s breaking you apart with his cock, but you know the truth. He’s putting you back together, making you whole in a way you’ve never been before. “Cum with me, please!”

Bucky groans and shudders, gritting his teeth when you dig your nails into his shoulders. Nodding, he adjusts his position so every thrust has his cock stabbing deep within you every time. And you place your hand on the side of his face, making sure he’s looking directly at you when you clench down purposefully, and he shouts at the same time you do, letting go at the same time.

You don’t know what happens after that, all you remember is having the most intense orgasm of your life and then suddenly you’re waking up cuddled into Bucky’s chest, the sky outside now dark as the moon sneaks up into the sky. Wiggling a little, you realize Bucky cleaned you up, but you can still feel the remnants of his cum inside you, and you relish in it.

“Bucky?” You mumble, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Just past ten,” He says softly, kissing the top of your head then lifting your chin so he can look into your eyes. “You don’t regret this, do you?” You can tell he’s nervous, that he really wants your answer to be no.

“I don’t.” You lean up to give him a lingering kiss, sighing into each other’s mouths before pulling away just enough to stare into his eyes as you say, “I’ll never regret being with you.”

And, finally, you mean it, because you realize now that this is the love you’ve always wished for. Bucky takes care of you in a way you both know no one else can, and you can only hope he knows that you can take care of him too. You’ll love him deeply, and you’ll give him the life he deserves.

temptation taglist: @mayreblogsstuff / @raging-panda / @wintrsoldrluvr / @myfavbuckyfics / @watchoutforyelener / @lauratang / @esotericgalaxy / @mayusenpai666 / @buckets-and-trees / @fandoms-writings

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Wolverine x Deadpool x F!Reader

ᯓ★ Being in a polyamory relationship with these two. (A dream inspired this AHAHHA–) fluff, lots of bickering between the two, funny/goofy shit, bit of jealousy/possessiveness, reader is fem!!

This whole relationship is a mess.

I'm talking never getting a moment of peace kind of mess.

For example this one time you drove the Honda Civic.

Nobody understood why you were the one behind the wheels 'cause now you're ramming into everything with Logan grabbing on the handle for dear life while Wade is having the time of his life at the back.

"Stop the damn car before we crash, bub! Yer gonna kill someone!" Logan shouted and at the same time Wade was screaming out the lyrics to "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC.

Did I mention how different these two are with you?

Wade loves it when you run to hug him, he would swing you around a couple of times with your legs wrapped around his waist.

As for Logan, he prefers something less than that. A simple hug is enough and you can't complain much about it because the way he completely engulfs you in his embrace always made your chest flutter.

It's no surprise that they are protective over you.

Like when you were captured by some troops in the void. The fire guy, Johnny Storm, couldn't help but try to flirt with you. He figured why not shoot his shot right?

"Hey..." He'd say, flashing you a cheesy smile.

And seeing his attempt to charm you, you couldn't help but find it amusing and chuckle.

Clearly the two didn't like it.

Which is why that may or may not be the reason why Wade decided to out the man and get him killed 🤷‍♀️ I guess we'll never know 🤔

You and Wade enjoy pulling pranks on Logan.

The sight of him being pissed off pleases you both.

There was this one time you guys swapped his whiskey to a non-alcoholic drink and you can imagine his frustration.

"WADE!!" But he can never get mad at you. He just can't.

Even Wade complains about this privilege of yours.

"Seriously Lo?! You're gonna get mad at me and not our lovely prank partner here? Come on man, we're both guilty parties in this crime scene. If you wanna get angry, at least share the spotlight :("

Cue you sticking your tongue out at Wade as he pouts with puppy dog eyes.

All jokes aside, the two love and support you dearly.

I like to think Logan is more of an old romantic and Wade is the adventurous type.

That's why it can sometimes take a while for them to decide what to get as a present for you.

"Why the fuck would she want a pillowcase with our faces on it?" Logan asked with genuine disgust in his eyes.

"Why wouldn't she?! It's cute as fuck, and you can never have too many pictures of us together. Besides, it's a lot cheaper than buying a life-sized statue of me for her bedroom, although that's an option too, I hear Wolverine-shaped body pillows are all the rage these days" Without realising, he continued on muttering nonsense to himself which had Logan roll his eyes.

"I'm buying her the leather jacket and it's final" Not letting Wade say anything, he'd walk off to the cashier with him left behind. His action causing him to get irritated.

"What about the budget?!?!" He'd raise his voice but Logan simply ignored him. Fed up, he stomps on his feet as he points at his back.

"Fine, you big lug!! I'll let you have your way this time. But don't come crying to me when she dumps us for a pair of more decisive superheroes!!" He'd shout.

In the end you appreciated the gifts you got for your birthday. Each gift speaks for their character.

You guys definitely have lazy days.

Days where you'll lounge around in pajamas and watch cheesy romantic comedies together, complete with a pile of blankets and snacks.

Expect there to be lots of laughter, cringing, and the occasional eye rolling. Not to forget how you three would start making fun of the characters and the cliche plotlines.

Logan clearly struggles to sit through the entire movie marathon and you always have the to be the one to pull his arm to prevent him from leaving.

"Gimme a break, bub. It’s the same damn thing every time— the good guy wins, the bad guy loses. It’s like they think we got the emotional range of a rock"

"Gee, what a buzz kill. But are they wrong though? You practically live like a rock!!" Wade laughed with Logan letting out a scowl.

Thank goodness you're dating them or else they'd be fighting almost all the time.

In the relationship you're the peacemaker

No but seriously Wade calls you that and the nickname has stuck to you.

You enjoy sleeping in the middle with the two on either sides. Half of the time you always wake up with the two fighting over you.

Just imagine Logan pulling you closer to him but before he could even do that, Wade would be quick to pull you back to his embrace despite them both being asleep.

You like to think it's their reflexes. That even when sleeping they're still fighting with each other 😭

However you absolutely adore the two.

Logan will MELT when you kiss his knuckles. Especially when you do it with your eyes locked to his. He will literally go feral for you.

And Wade? He absolutely loveloveloves it when you baby him. It's his guilty pleasure. Hold him close with his face placed against your chest and he swears the voices in his head finally quiets down. That's why you're his angel.

Also, the two really enjoy showering you with kisses. You can barely ever hold back a smile with the two smooching every surface of your face.

Will do anything to get your praise.

The competitiveness is too much.

Oh Logan got you a bouquet? Well Wade got you a bouquet made of tacos. Who's the better one now huh? 😋

To be fair Wade is Wade. There's nothing you can do about it... but that doesn't mean Logan is ever gonna let him get his way.

"Where's Wade?" You'd ask, watching Logan sink on the sofa beside you.

"Don't know... could care less..." He'd say, wrapping an arm around you to snuggle with you. In the other room Wade has been stuffed inside the closet. Completely restrained and duck taped.

All I can say is that dating them is all fun and love. Literal baby girls.

[iniquitousyearning]

quiet reckoning. chapter one

summary: mattheo comes to visit. it’s strange, being twenty five and still seeing your childhood in his eyes.

warnings: just a ton of fucking angst. complicated, self destructive mattheo who’s finally coming to terms with how he pushed you away when you were younger simply because he couldn’t stand being second to tom in your eyes. the acceptance doesn’t make it hurt any less. get the tissues. cry with me please.

masterlist & other chapters.

Life these days holds a strange, silent kind of peace, interrupted only by the faint sound of water rushing over stone—the creek that runs quick along the forest edge. In your early summer afternoons, the trees form a leafy wall of emerald and ochre, and they sway with the breeze that brushes the hair back from your cheeks.

You sit cross-legged in the dirt, hands buried in soil as you pull vegetables out of your garden in prep for the approaching cold months. You love how earth has its own signature scent: damp, fertile, alive. Somehow it makes you think of Tom���his manor, with its towering windows overlooking manicured grounds, its own gardens sprawling wide. His manor with its grand, sweeping staircases, polished black floors.

Everything was pristine, almost oppressively so. Even the walls seemed haughty, disdainful of the cobwebs that clung to the corners.

Tom had never let you stay long enough to tend to those.

But his gardens—those had their own softness, a quiet beauty that only fully revealed itself after dusk when the moonlight cast everything in silver. I loved you there, you reminisce, and the ache has a name in memory—longing. I wish I could have loved you there longer.

And now you're here, a few years after Tom told you never to come back to him—here where the ache feels smaller, further away. Here where there’s no temptation, where the air smells of earth and moss and freedom, and the silence holds its own kind of comfort. Mattheo visits sometimes, wandering into the quiet when your absence grows too thick, when too many of his owls have gone unanswered.

"He'll visit soon." He always tells you. You start to hate how much he lies to you.

"Don't pretend," you said once, and his mouth stretched into a thin, humourless smile.

"Alright," he replied. "I won't."

So now, when he comes to visit, he doesn't say it—he just sits next to you. He doesn't talk much. Neither do you. Life here is quiet—few neighbours, even fewer visitors. A woman brings you pastries from time to time and the town grocer knows your name, but most days you pass unbothered. You tend the garden when the days are warm, work on the cottage when it's cold.

When it's raining you read books and pretend they're not the same kind Tom used to keep.

On a day in early October, Mattheo sits next to you on the porch and you hate that you notice how he doesn't look at you the same way Tom did. It's something lighter, something less cloying. Sometimes you think of how unfair it is that he can taunt you silently like this—how he can remind you of the chocolate streaks in Tom's inky hair, the depth in his dark eyes. How he can remind you that he holds all the same features as his brother, just without the weight.

As the sun sinks slowly through the trees, casting pink and orange across the sky, you turn your face to the creek, watching the water ripple over stones and rocks, and you think of how young you loved them—the way your love grew different when you weren't looking.

Mattheo was chaos, always had been. I could have helped him find himself. But that thought feels hollow, and it's always followed by another. If he would have let me.

"It's strange to think that this is your life." Mattheo speaks after a while of not. He lights a cigarette, and you reach for it when he passes it to you. "You could have done anything."

You inhale the smoke and close your eyes—thinking of how cigarettes taste like fire and ash and the last time Tom had taken your hand.

"Maybe this is all I ever wanted to be." You reply, spinning the cigarette between your fingers. "At peace."

He glances at you in the fading light—the way the sunset casts shadows in the hollows of your cheeks, makes the gold of your earrings look darker against your hair.

He frowns. "You don't look at peace."

No, you think, taking another drag. I never really have.

You pass the cigarette back to him, watching the smoke drift in the breeze. He doesn't say anything else, so you don't either.

Instead, you watch the dark start to close in, the sky turn into an endless stretch of indigo, stars winking to life somewhere above the trees. The fireflies come out eventually, when the night is quiet and heavy and the world turns a little sleepy. They flutter around in the trees and grass like faeries—like stars that've made their home on the ground—and Mattheo watches them with a furrow in his brow.

You wonder what he's thinking, then think better of it at the bitter twist of his mouth. He always thought they'd burn.

"Why do you still come here?" You question. He turns to you, and when his eyes meet yours that's when you realize you'd verbalized the thought. "To sit with me."

Mattheo shakes his head. "I'll need another smoke to answer that."

So he pulls out another cigarette and lights it. The first inhale is long, and the exhale makes you blink. You look away and pretend like his response doesn't make your stomach twist.

The stream moves a little darker in the moonlight and the pine trees shiver with a gentle breeze that smells like soil. You feel the comfort in it—in knowing that all of this has been here longer than you ever have, and that it'll be here long after you're gone.

Perhaps that's precisely what you chased. A home in something steady.

"I come to remind myself you're okay." He says after a long silence, staring at his hands. "Sometimes it feels like you're dead."

You blink again. He's more perceptive than you remember.

"I'm still here," you remind him, but he laughs without humour in it.

"Sure, you're there," he replies, before another pause. "But you're not really living."

He says the words casually, like they're a fact. You think they're meant to hurt. He's right—it's a thought that comes quietly, the way most unwanted thoughts do. You over look at the river, the fireflies, the dirt under your fingernails—you try to feel the chill in the October breeze, the soft moss under your feet. You try to be alive.

"Why do you think that?" You ask even when you know the answer.

He takes another drag of his cigarette, and then exhales—casting his hair grey when the smoke drifts over his face.

He looks older here, when the night stretches over him. It reminds you how much has changed.

"Sometimes I think you're here to punish yourself." He says, passing you the cigarette again. "You say you come here for peace, but this isn't peace like a person should have. It's just an absence. Silence, and isolation, and nothing else." You glance down at his hand resting on his knee beside you, shadows deepening in the lines of his palm. He watches you. "I wish you'd stop hating yourself for what he's become."

A lump forms in your throat—you remember Tom as a boy, the way he'd hold magic in his palms and make lights dance just to make you laugh. You remember the way he once looked at you, quietly and gently in a way that made you feel safe within crumbling walls offering cold stone decorum. You remember one of the last times at Hogwarts, once things took a turn, when he held more than just magic in his palms—when the lights danced only to burn you instead of make you laugh.

You wonder what it says about you, that you loved him in both.

"I don't hate myself, Matt." You mutter, more conviction than truth. "If I'm punishing myself at all, it's for giving him something to hurt."

He doesn't say anything for a while, so you think briefly that his silence is agreement. You and him both know that there is a lot to hurt about, when it comes to Tom.

"You didn't give him anything." He rebuttals with certainty. "He was who he was before you even knew his name."

It's easy to forget that sometimes, the way he had been all sharp edges even when you'd first met. The way he'd pulled you and his brother through crumbling, damp, narrow hallways with something far too assured for a six year old. Something that made you want to follow him forever—something that whispered; I'll never let anything hurt you.

You exhale a plume of smoke. The fireflies look like falling stars when you close your eyes.

"Sometimes, I think I made him human." You say, and immediately wish you didn't. It's a weird thought, but one that comes unbidden. "Others, I think I made him evil."

It tastes like acid the moment you say it aloud. I made him evil. You think back to all those nights in the quiet, the way you taught him how to confide in you, the way he looked at you as if you held some answer he couldn't find on his own. You remember the secrets he shared, the way he softened when no one else could see. You remember how long it took him to get there.

But you remember the darker moments, too—moments when you didn't pull away, even when you should have. Moments you whispered reassurances instead of warnings, when you offered comfort instead of caution. Maybe, in those silences, you fed a need that shouldn't have been nourished, let him believe his ambitions weren't dangerous, only misunderstood.

You wonder if, in being the one person who never condemned him, you gave him permission to be what he became.

"And me?" Mattheo turns to you. You glance at him, the hard line of his mouth and his eyes that look more black than brown in the night— "did you make me evil too?"

You're both quiet for a moment, the only sound is the stream, the only motion is the flutter of the fireflies.

"I don't believe I made you anything." You say finally, letting him take the cigarette back from you. "I suppose you only became who you wanted to be."

You think, quietly, that it's a kinder fate than the rest.

He huffs a laugh. "So you think I wanted to be an asshole."

He's joking, you think. Or he's bitter again, resentful. You're sure he wanted to be whatever Tom would accept him as—though you'd never say those words out loud.

"I think you wanted to be loved." Is what you settle on, and the words tear your throat apart as you speak them. "Just like I did."

He hums, noncommittally, and lights a third cigarette.

You wonder why you still know that he's bitter even when he's not saying the words—why you still know that he only hums that way when something hurts, or when it's a truth he can't bring himself to admit.

"You found it now, haven't you?" You fill his silence with another sentence you wish you didn't say. "You're engaged."

You watch the embers from the cigarette tip light up the hollows of his cheeks, the way it burns his eyes gold as he takes a drag on it.

"Yeah," he nods into the night. "I'm engaged."

Something selfish in you aches at that.

"Then why do you come here and look at me like you're lonely?" You try to ask it casually, but you don't think you manage it. You see him tense when he realizes how well you still read him. "What is it you're missing, Matt?"

"I don't know." He looks at you in the dark, his expression lost in the shadows of his hair. "Sometimes I think it's you."

It's an answer like a knife, because you've known all along that he feels the same way you do—that the loneliness stays and the regret never really dissipates—that the 'what-ifs' linger long after they shouldn't.

"I'm not your girl." You remind him.

It sounds empty when you say it, but he made it clear when you were younger that he wanted it this way.

"You never were."

He looks away after that, to the stream, and you wonder if it has ever felt hollow like this.

All the lights seem very small suddenly, the moon, the stars—you're not sure where his vulnerability is coming from, all these years in passing. You assume it’s the old saying—absence makes the heart grow fonder.

"But you wanted me to be." It's more of a question.

"For a time, when we were kids." He gives you honesty that surprises you. "Sometimes I think I still do."

Why?—you want to ask, suddenly, desperately—and wonder at the cruelty of the thought. Asking that would be the worst kind of question. Why do you want me?

You think you know all the answers already. They sit bitter at the back of your throat.

"So that's why you come here." You say instead, shivering with the wind that brushes over you. "To remind yourself of all the reasons you still feel empty."

There's a dark sort of humour to the sound he lets out, one that makes your chest ache. He turns to you again, and his hands shake when he lifts the cigarette.

"It's not you that makes me feel empty, princess." He whispers. "It's the absence of you."

You look at him, then—really look. There's something strange about being twenty five and still seeing your childhood in his eyes. Despite the nickname, he’s not joking. It’s the kind of confession that tastes like a fist, like a punch that breaks bones.

I know, you think. I wish it could have been different for us.

"You need to stop coming here." There's no spine in those words. They're putty between you. "Just like Tom told me to stop, I'm now telling you."

He's quiet, watching you as the embers of the cigarette flicker over his fingers.

"I'll stop," he pauses, and you see the pain in his throat as he swallows. "When he finally comes to you."

That, you think, will probably never happen.

"So you'll come here forever." You say, and his mouth twists in a silent, bitter smile.

"I guess I will."

You don't have a response to that. It's not a choice he makes so much as it is his reality, and you, of all people, could never fault him for that.

So instead of words, you lean to rest your head on his shoulder, same way you did when you were kids. You sit together, watching the moon and stars and the stream and the trees and everything else around you that reminds you you're alive, even if you don't feel it. You think of his fiancé, you know she'd never understand. This is childhood love in its most vulnerable form—and you thank him for it, silently, for reminding you that you're not alone. Even if you're sure you are.

He leans his head sideways, on top of yours—a gesture almost automatic.

"I still think of you in the summer." He mutters into your hair. You close your eyes and remember the sun, the way it once felt like it touched your bones. "The summer when we were nine. Swimming in the river at night. Those stupid bugs that I thought were made of fire." He pauses for a minute, looking around, and you think he's done talking, until he isn't. "I suppose I do understand why you chose this life."

You remember that summer, too. Small children swimming in a river that was all silver shadows under the moonlight, chasing fireflies like stars. No parents to call you home, no rules except the ones of your own.

Somehow, that's not your favourite memory of him.

"And I think of you in the fall." You say, listening to your own voice sounding distant. "The year just before Hogwarts. When the leaves turned red and orange and gold. When you raked them into a pile for us to jump in."

He hums. "I tried to kiss you that fall."

"And Tom fought you for it."

"And he won." Mattheo's voice sounds distant too, almost lost. "He always won."

It's strange, thinking of autumn when you think of Mattheo, but it fits—he's just as fleeting. Beautiful, easy to fall into, but always gone too soon, leaving a chill in his place.

"Sometimes I think it's because he knew he could." You build off his thoughts. "And sometimes I think it's because he just wanted to prove it."

He shrugs. "Either way, I still lost."

It's such a mournful way to reminisce, you think, for the children you used to be.

"And what now?" You ask.

He exhales slowly, and the smoke looks like a mist in front of you. "I suppose now we both lose."

And that, is the most honest thing he's said all night.

You turn your face into his shoulder, the way you had when you were younger. You close your eyes, and for a moment you imagine being a child again—back in the days when love was simple and nights were endless. Back to a time when you didn't know things you should and all you had were each other's shoulders to lean on in an orphanage dirtier than the forest before you.

"We lose together, then." You offer, a half-whisper.

"Yeah," he answers, just as quiet, just as lost. "We lose together."

There's a bitter kind of contentment in that, you think. You're sure that's a terrible thing.

You take a few moments to brace yourself for the shift in conversation, and then—

"How is he?"

"He's fine." Mattheo understands what you aren't asking. "The leader he always wanted to be."

You close your eyes again and hear the stream running steady, moving around rocks that have been shaped by years of its presence. You ignore the ache in your chest.

"He's happy?"

You don't have to open your eyes to know that Mattheo smiles bitterly. "He's as happy as someone like Tom could be."

There are several beats of silence, the kind that holds too many unsaid things. You feel it in Mattheos exhale that there's something he isn't saying. You don't press him on it. You sit together like this for a while under the sky—watching the way the dark clouds move, the stars shift.

You think about childhoods that never last. About fireflies and streams and boys you loved.

"Tell me something true." You murmur as the midnight grog sets in. "Tell me something that'll warm me through winter."

Mattheo pauses, silent, and for a moment you think he's not going to answer.

"I've loved you most of my life." He mutters finally, into the top of your head. The words feel like a breath of summer, in a quiet, dark night. "That's the kind of truth that could melt an iceberg."

It's the sort of declaration you could only share in the cover of the night, in the silence of a forest. Not the sort of admission that would ever survive daylight. I've loved you most of mine, too.

"And a lie?" You reply.

His fingertips run through his hair, almost idly. You suppose he's looking back into memories of fleeting autumn's and summer sun, the time he tried to kiss you and the day he pushed you away. He doesn't answer the question for a while. You wonder if he doesn't have an answer, or if he just doesn't want to say it.

And then, finally, quietly— "I'm happy for him."

You close your eyes again. That, you think, is the cold truth of winter.

You turn your face again into his shoulder for a second time tonight, but you keep your eyes open. You can feel the weight of your childhood on your shoulders, the trees and the creek behind you, and the silence that follows his lie.

Suddenly, you're furious—a fire tearing through regret. You wish Mattheo hadn't chosen booze, fights, and empty escapes. You wish he'd let you love him properly before pushing you away. You wish he hadn't always resented Tom—hadn't always felt second best in a way no amount of reassurance could fix. Yet somehow, you just can't fault him for any of it.

He's always known you loved Tom first; he's carried that like a wound.

"Ask me to lie to you." You say as you swallow your anger.

There's an exhale. You're sure Mattheo's watching the trees, the wind as it runs quietly past.

"Lie to me."

You tilt your head up to the sky. You try to remember that fall, you try to feel what it was like to be a child again, and to believe in a future that wasn't shaped by the past. You think of his fiancé.

"I'm happy for you." You whisper.

From the corner of your eye, you know he smiles bitterly again, but he responds with nothing more than his unsteady breathing. You're both silent like this for the rest of his stay, together under the moon that's watched you both change.

"I'll be back in a month," he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear as time stretches thin.

He has to go before the sun rises, before dawn coaxes him into staying. You consider, if only for the flicker of a second, letting him.

"I'll see you then." You lean back and look up into his eyes, searching into the gold buried deep. If you look too long, you think you may see his broken heart. You make yourself smile anyway. "Write to me."

"Even if you don't write back." He replies with a nod.

The cold air makes your eyes water. For a moment he's still, like he may pull you into him and drown you in all the things he feels. Instead, he puts a cigarette into his mouth, lighting it with one of his hands. The lighter casts an orange glow over his face that makes him look pale and tired again, like the boy you'd met in an orphanage that was so much dirtier than the forest before you.

"Good night." He murmurs, and you feel his thumb brush your cheek before he apparates back to the life you left behind.

And now, alone under the black sky, you take a deep breath. Then, you exhale, go back into your cabin and you try not to think about all the things you've lost.

You try not to think of the boy you've loved for far too large a part of your life and how it changed the boy who's loved you for far too large a part of his. You try instead to focus on what you have—walls and peace and solitude, something certain that won't disappear when it rains.

[benkeibear]

『 Tasty! 』

☼ synopsis: Kyojurou comes back from a mission and finds you touching yourself, wanting to help you find release

☼ character: Kyojuro Rengoku

☼ wc: 1.5k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, masturbation, fingering, oral (reader receiving), slight overstimulation, squirting, pet names

Kyojurou made sure to kiss your forehead before he left for his mission, hating that he had to leave with the first ray of sunshine, but he tried his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. Your hands held onto his haori in your sleep, not wanting him to leave just yet and it almost broke his heart, carefully removing your hands from the cloth and kissing each of your knuckles.

“I promise that I'll be back home as soon as I can, my firefly,” he whispered and gave one last kiss onto your temple before he had to leave.

Waking up without your lover felt like getting your heart ripped out each and every time and you knew he could never wait until you're awake when he left, not wanting to see you cry or risk you begging for him to stay home - he hates making you upset after all, but so far he always made it back home in one piece.

The time went by slowly while your lover was gone, trying to go on with your usual routine got harder day by day, your mind starting to cloud with worry alongside a need to be with him again and while doing the laundry you stumbled across one of his haori, laughing softly to yourself when his scent filled your senses, hugging the clothing item close to your chest as if you'd be hugging him. You missed him far too much to toss this haori into the laundry, deciding to wear it yourself in order to feel a little less lonely in this big house while all you did was wait for his return and try not to go crazy.

You don't know when it happened but you found yourself in your shared bed, wearing nothing but his Haori while your hand was working magic on your neglected cunt. Nimble fingers rubbing circles onto your overly sensitive clit before dipping into your wetness just like Kyojurou would, but your little fingers could never make you feel just as good, leaving you unsatisfied despite the orgasm that shook your entire body. Desperate for more, you curled your fingers against your sweet spot over and over, using your second hand to play with your little bundle of nerves while moaning his name, imagining it would be him taking care of you after being gone for weeks.

Your poor cunt felt so neglected, trying not to touch yourself while he was away, knowing he wants to make love to you the second he's home, but this time you just couldn't help yourself, missing his touch far too much.

The moans of his name echoed from the walls alongside the squelching sound of your fingers working you open, unable to hear the way Kyojurou called your name, wondering where you were since you usually jump into his arms the second he opened the door. He was on guard now, fearing something might have happened, not wanting to think of the worst yet as he made his way through the house, checking every room for possible signs of danger when he stopped dead in his tracks in front of your shared bedroom.

The heat crept up his neck, his name called out in such lewd ways had him gasping for air and a big smile crept to his face when he opened the door, seeing you on your bed with your legs spread wide, fingers knuckle deep in your dripping wet folds - and is that his Haori?!

“Was I gone too long this time?” He asked, a smirk creeping up on his face despite his eyebrows being knit together in worry. Neglecting you was the last thing he ever wanted, feeling guilty for being gone for weeks at a time but the moment he spoke up, you flinched, trying to cover yourself to regain some decency which made him chuckle.

“Hey now, no need to cover yourself for your husband,” he said amused and stalked over to where you were laying in long strides just to rip the blanket away from you - the hunger for you clear in his eyes.

Kyojurou was aching to touch you as well, seeing you so vulnerable and moaning his name had him hard and leaking with pre cum already as he climbed onto the bed, lips locking in a desperate kiss before taking hold of your hand to lick your fingers clean that we're still coated with your juices. He moaned obscene when your slick melted on his tongue, his eyes locked with yours as he did so.

“You're so tasty… can't get enough,” he whispered and licked his lips, strong hands already parting your thighs to uncover your glistening folds to his hungry eyes.

“Please touch me” you whimpered, desperate to feel his fingers work their magic and you didn't even need to ask twice before you felt two of his thick fingers part your folds and collect some of your slick.

Kyojurou didn't want to tease you, not when you were so desperate for his touch that you needed to please yourself in his absence. A sweet moan of relief escaped your beautiful lips when he finally sunk his fingers into your heat, his eyes closed in delight at the squelching sounds erupting from your cunt.

“How many times, firefly? You're so worked up” he asked amused, intense gaze fixed to your face that started to contort in pleasure.

“Three” you whimpered, letting him know how many times you've come undone on your own fingers but no matter how many times your fingers coaxed an orgasm out of you, they were nothing in comparison to the ones your husband gave you and he knew.

Thick fingers repeatedly massaged your sweet spot he was all too familiar with as the calloused pad of his thumb made sure to take care of your little clit just the way you liked it, making you squirm and moan in bliss. Before you knew it you started to clench around his fingers, crying out his name

“Hmm… slow down, too much,” you whined, feeling like you would burst at the seams if he keeps going but no matter how much he slowed down, the next time he pushed against your g-spot you screamed in pleasure as clear liquid sprayed all over his eager hand and strong arm, catching both of you off guard but Kyojurou didn't let you close your legs even if that's what you wanted, a look of pure adoration on his face.

“Did you just squirt?” He asked amazed, having heard from Tengen that this can happen if the orgasm is intense but all you wanted to do was hide from your lover's intense gaze, whining with his thick fingers still slotted deep inside of you.

“Can you do it again?” He asked curious, moving his fingers exactly like before, which had you moaning loudly right away from how sensitive you were now, shaking your head

“I-I can't,” you whimpered, unsure how to feel about the way you just created a mess on your shared bed but Kyojurou gave you a sweet smile and kissed one of your soft thighs

“You can give me another one… you're my good little firefly, aren't you?” He asked in such a sweet way that made it impossible for you to say no and you wanted more, needing more which knew all too well, your walls clenching hard and practically pulling his fingers in so they won't stop caressing your sensitive spots.

“That's my wife… my beautiful sunflower,” he hummed and replaced the rough pad of his thumb with his skilled tongue, lapping up the juices on your dripping cunt and almost driving you insane with overstimulation but he went oh so slow, making sure to feel the way your sweet spot started to get more and more sensitive to his prodding fingers before speeding up, curling them right against it over and over again until he felt you clench his fingers like a vice, your hands grabbing onto his bicolored hair.

You didn't even give him a chance to pull away, selfishly grinding your core against his face until you exploded again, the liquid splashing right against his tongue and face, making him moan loudly as he ate you out with more vigor this time, not getting enough from your taste.

“You're so tasty, firefly. Can you give me one more? Just one?” He almost begged, needing to feel you come undone like this once more, addicted to your sweet moans and your taste. Your poor head was spinning from the intensity this orgasm held but you mindlessly nodded, wanting more than you can handle, more than you thought you'd get when you started playing with your neglected cunt - your husband now made sure you are well taken care of.

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[kiwiikato]

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Four

masterlist

your eyes followed him as he slowly walked over to where you sat. he took a seat next to you, not to far but not too close. a good distance for the strangers you were to each other. "who are you?" he looked at your face, examining your features from the color of your hair to the shape of your eyes and face.

you could only sigh at the tension in the room. "i work with your father. my name is y/n l/n. your father has been training me for some time now when he was still known as ultraman as a back up plan in case you did not want to step up for the position as ultraman. i have only shown up now since your father thought it best to have two heroes instead of one."

kenji could only stare at you, his eyes sharp, almost focused like a lion stalking it's pray. you gulped as you waited for him to make any comments. "but why? why would my father have a backup plan for me? why didn't he tell me about you when he asked me to take up this position?" he looked at you confused by all the new information.

"your dad knew that you liked playing baseball. he did not want to force you to choose between the two. we met many years ago, during his hero days, and had created a plan for me to take up the job so you would not lose your dreams of being an athlete in case you were to deny. i genuinely mean you no harm and i do not plan to reveal who you are to the public."

he sighed, rubbing his hands through his hair. "but how can i trust you?" he said looking at you. "you can't. but you can learn to trust me." you smiled at him, making him return a little smile back. "besides, i can help you take care of the infant kaiju as well. better two than one. i can take care of her when you're out for your games. also big fan by the way."

he could only laugh at your last comment, finding it funny how you didn't mind to praise him during a serious conversation like this. "i don't know much about you, but i would appreciate the help. i hope i can get to trust you y/n. please prove me right." you nodded your head, watching him stretch from crouching down as he sat down. "you can trust and count on me ken."

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after a bit of talking and getting to know each other a little bit better, ken offered for you to stay with him in the duration of the baby kaiju being here. he didn't know how long she would be here but in his head she wouldn't be here long before she is dropped off at kaiju island.

you didn't know whether to believe his idea of it not being that long but you agreed to stay there with him. he showed you a spare guest room he had, telling you that you could temporarily live there if you wanted to, unless you would return back to your house in the city.

you decided to stay, worried for the safety of the baby kaiju and any issues that kenji would face in taking care of her. so there you were, currently laying on the bed that kenji offered to you as you heard the cries of the baby kaiju finally end.

your eyes were red, tired from staying awake so late, as your hair stayed slightly messy. you laid in a spare shirt and pair of joggers that kenji gave to you out of pity for your uncomfortable jeans and blouse that you wore long before the two of you met.

your eyes finally moved to close, taking the chance to knock out. peace and quiet enveloped your body as you felt yourself relax. or so you thought. a loud cry erupted through the house as you heard ken yell right after. you rose from bed, going to the door and out the hallway that led to the living room.

your eyes landed on ken who slammed his face in a pillow in annoyance. his hair was messy and covered part of his face. "can't sleep, huh?" you croaked out. he could only groan in response as his hand fell to his side. "nope, but by the looks of it, you couldn't too." you laughed at him.

the both of you sluggishly went to the tube like elevator, slowly going down towards where the baby kaiju was. you both walked out grudgingly, as mina floated to the two of you. "she settled down for a minute. then started right back up." her voice yelled over the crying that was happening.

"yeah! i can hear it!" ken's aggravated voice yelled through the crying as he set a box of food down of the steps. "she's still scared of you both, ken and y/n." you could only frown at the scene, fixing the blanket that wrapped around your body.

he groaned and then turned to you. "follow my lead please." you nodded and watched him as he yelled for the baby kaiju's attention while clapping his hands. "hey hey hey!" you walked backwards with him.

"before." he opened his arms wide. you quickly caught onto what he was trying to do. "after!" you both changed into your ultra forms, with kenji hitting his head. the cute pink kaiju stopped crying and smiled at the two of you. she jumped slightly in joy as you waved at her. "hi baby." she could only coo in excitement.

you and kenji both went back to your human forms making her cry. and then you both went to your hero forms. kenji repeated before and after as the baby kaiju went from crying to jumping to joy to crying over and over. it wasn't long till the both of you stood in front of her in your normal forms and she smiled.

"you see. it's me. us." he said as he walked closer to the containment unit. you followed behind him, sitting next to it as you tapped the glass. the baby kaiju could only reach for you as you tapped the glass back at her, making her mimic your actions. "hi baby, its me. everything's okay." you said smiling at her. she smiled back making her cheeks look chubbier and cuter.

she then turned to look at kenji, watching him as he ate from the box of food he brought down with him. her stomach grumbled as she whined while hitting the glass. she pressed her cute face against the glass, trying to eat the food that she couldn't reach.

"what now?" kenji grumbled to himself. "she must be starving." mina responded. "do i look like i have any idea what to feed a giant pink lizard baby?" he sounded annoyed but you could tell it was from the lack of sleep.

"lighten up kenji. she's just a baby. she can't control when she's hungry or not." you said as you pulled out a donut from the box next to him. he only playfully glare at you before sighing and turning to mina seeing the baby kaiju throw a tantrum.

"mina, hurry! give her something to eat before she stomps another car!" you couldn't help but cackle at him worrying about his already destroyed cars as mina brought out a table inside full of different types of foods.

"nice! maple and brown sugar oatmeal. new york strip. mmmm. go on, try it!" ken pointed at the food that rotated in the table, trying to sell off the food for the cute kaiju to eat.

"ken- i don't think she can eat that." you said worried for her. "shhh y/n, no one can resist a new york strip." he said putting a finger to your face playfully to shush you, which you slapped away while rolling your eyes.

the baby kaiju cautiously picked up a piece of meat from the table. she took it into her mouth, taking small bites. ken turned to you with a cocky smirk on his face. "see, she likes it-" the meat she ate was spit out in front of ken, only missing him because of the glass that separated them.

"uhuh, you were saying." you smirked at him, putting your hands on your hips jokingly. ken went to make a remark only to stop when the baby kaiju slammed the table of food against the walls, making the plates breaks. "hey stop that!" she could only cry more as he yelled at her.

"you're gonna be in big trouble, young lady!" he raised a finger in a threatening manner, trying to scare her to behave. she didn't bother to listen to him, only to halt her crying as she stood up.

"what is she smelling?" you turned to watch where she moved towards, seeing as she sniffed the air where the fishes from the ocean swam along.

"what? what is it now?" ken asked annoyed from the lack of sleep and events of the day. "hey lighten up, she's just a baby." you said furrowing your brows at him.

you looked to see as your adoptive baby faced the fish. a form of vibration shook the air in front of it, only to bounce back to her after it hit the fish. "what the heck is that?" kenji asked confused.

"it's echolocation, you idiot." you said to him. "who are you calling an idiot??" he raised a finger at you. "you! the guy who doesn't know what echolocation is!" you yelled at him as you both fault like kids.

your bickering was cut short to the sound of the baby crying, causing you both to look at her as an hit the glass and motioned towards the fish.

"you want fish, we'll get your fish!" ken shouted. "we?" you asked raising a eyebrow at him. "yes. we. you're going to help me catch fish for the baby." he said sticking his tongue out at you.

you rolled your eyes and threw your blanket off your body to the side. "fine, let's go get some fish."

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you both swam through the water in your ultra forms, chasing after fish that swam away from the both of you in fear. it had taken longer than expected to get the amount of fish you had now. the fish were slimier and faster than you expected in water. you underestimated them.

your body walked over to the top of the container as ken removed the lid from it, showing a happy kaiju reaching to you both in joy. you both dumped the fish that you caught in with her, making her jump with joy as she stuffed them into her mouth.

you both zapped out of your forms, back to your human sizes, as you fell to the ground. you let out a yawn, finding yourself cradle yourself on the ground with your blanket, that you left behind on the floor, now wrapped around you again.

ken fell next to you, not too far from you but not too close as he laid down with you. you both silently stared at the ocean from the windows, taking in the scenery.

the peaceful silence was broken by kenji talking. "thank you for helping me take care of them. i know i dragged you into this in a way but i really needed this help." his voice was soft but you could still hear him.

"of course ken, i told you i'd help you the second we found her. it's not that no one can raise a kid by themselves but it's because the extra support in raising a baby is always needed to feel better. don't feel bad, okay?" you ended your words with a unsaid promise as you stuck your pinky finger out.

ken groaned seeing your finger poking out. "do i really have to do that? i'm not a kid no more." you glared at him from the blanket that partially covered your face. "pinky promise, now." you said sternly.

he sighed but stuck his pinky finger to do the little pinkie promise you asked for. he looked away as his finger intertwined with yours but not without failing at hiding the small smile that graced his lips.

"thank you. now goodnight kenji." you whispered to him. "goodnight y/n, well chat more tomorrow." you hummed in approval letting yourself drift off to sleep on the cold metal floor. sleep enveloped your frame, but not without the feeling of someone fixing the blanket around your body more.

TAGLIST !

@ilovemyhusbandaaravos @miffysoo @dumbkira15 @chaoticotaku @channit @shingsoluvely @vampz-cats @mixvchelle @ifharbingerbad--whyhot @dreamayy @justanotherkpopstanlol @bat1212 @angelitadiaz

[bubblessunshinehoney]

His Anchor

Annnd i'm back, well maybe you didn't even see me leave, lol. But here is a little drabble (bit longer i think) of a little idea i had with our dearest bucky.

English in not my first language, no beta-read, just a one shot to get this fic out of my system.

Hope you'll enjoy,

don't be shy, reblogs, comments and like!! :)

Love.

Cloudy

Just imagine you're Bucky girlfriend. Few knows that you're together. It's still new, still fresh and Bucky needs to navigate around it, around the fact that he deserves to be love, that he can love again and that he won't hurt you, scare you or disapoint you when he wakes up for the 10th night in a row because of his nightmares.

But imagine, one day, he comes back from a mission, everything went bad, like horribly bad. He blames himself...because Sam got hurt, Nat got hurt and even Steve got hurt.

It's his fault, he got distracted, he tought he was over his traumas, but PTSD just kicked in again and he couldn't do anything against it.

He's feral, in a second state. Even Steve doesn't dare approach him. He's left alone in a room...thankfully one with windows, so he can try to realise is not back in a Hydra base. But he's not fully here, his eyes are vacant, lost in his traumas. He's covered in cold sweat, walking around in the room like a old lion rouding in his cage in a forgotten circus.

You arrived as soon as you could, being away with some friends for a little trip. You just had time to shower before Nat called you. In you frenzy to get there, you didn't realise you put one of his henley's on, but you're happy you did.

"Where is he? " you ask in greeting.

Sam pointed the room, his head covered with a bandage.

"You're okay?" he just nodded with a faint smile. Steve holds you gently.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea you go in there, Y/N", he looks tortured and lost. "He's..he's not himslef right now, even I can't go in there."

"Yeah, but I'm not you Steve. I'm his girlfriend, I can handle it."

A tiny gasp comes from behind, the revelation out in the open for everyone to hear and you don't care. You only care to provide the peace Bucky needs.

Steve looks into your eyes, searching for , you don't know what, but he seems to find it, because he nods and let you go.

You take a deep breath before opening the door. The moment you close it, Bucky faces you and stalks towards you. You don't back up, you don't scare away. You stay grounded, feet heavy and you wait for him to come as close to you as possible. When the tip of his shoes touches yours, you look up to meet his eyes. The blue is cold, vacant eyes looking into yours. But you can see it, hidden behind the coldness, a cry for help.

You both look at the others for long minutes, but then you whisper softly, lovingly, warm. "Welcome home, my Jamie."

Recognition slowly fills in his eyes, the blue warms, his feature relaxes ever so slightly, his head bows towards you.

"Welcome home, my lovely Jamie." you murmur with all the love you have for this man. He bows his head until his foreheard touches yours and he shudders. "Welcome home, my love". He blinks, the vacant look fading away. You smile up at him, and he nuzzles his nose with yours, you nuzzle back, making him scrunch his in return.

Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, you squeeze your fingers around his softly. He walks even closer to you, his vibranium fingers playing with the hem of his henley you're wearing.

"You're home", your voice a song to his heart, his ears, his soul. His left hand grip your waist, your hand stroking his cheek, not once you look away from his eyes. He leans into your touch, relaxing even more, pressing his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, shuddering his exhale.

"I'm home" he chokes on it, his voice hoarse, like after the worst nightmare, like he screamed for too long, lost his voice in his horrors.

You kiss the corner of his mouth, then he hugs you. His face in the crook of your neck, his arms tightly around you. You hug him back as tight as you can, playing with the end of his hair in the soothing circles that helps him, that grounds him back in the present.

You stay like this for long minutes, then he looks back at you, rests his forehead on yours again and he pleads "home..." you nod and take his left hand in yours, before walking out of the room and straight to your car, waving to the others to say good bye. Bucky just holds your hand, focus on you, he can't quite make what's around him just yet. You're his lifeline and he holds on to it for his sanity.

Once you've reached your shared flat, he brings you to bed and lays you, makes sure you're comfortable, before laying between your legs, his head on your chest, ear on your heart, arms securely around your waist. Your hands stroke his hair, neck and upper back until he comes back fully to you.

He's home when he's with you. You're his anchor to remind him than even if he floats away, there's a strong line to bring him back.

[steddieas-shegoes]

don't want to move on

for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt 'make-up sex'

rated e | 18+, minors dni | 3165 words | read all tags on ao3

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

If Steve knows one thing, it’s that Eddie knows how to get under his skin and in his bed.

Ever since their breakup, a disaster of epic proportions for the entire friend group, Steve’s kept his distance from every possible interaction with Eddie. He’s made sure to find reasons to miss group outings and put himself on the schedule at work on the nights when he knew Eddie would be at movie nights or dinner. He purposely scheduled pool parties for days and times he knew Eddie would be busy.

But he couldn’t get out of this one.

And now he has Eddie’s eyes on him from across the room, staring into his soul, reading his mind probably.

It makes him want to hide. Or take his pants off.

He hasn’t quite decided yet.

“Are you gonna glare at him all night or go talk to him?” Jonathan asks from behind him.

Steve turns, feels ridiculous that he’s been caught, and crosses his arms across his chest defiantly.

“I’m gonna ignore him until he leaves and then excuse myself so I can sulk in peace,” Steve admits.

Robin was his platonic soulmate, but Jonathan has become a sort of unexpected best friend. He was there the morning after the breakup, barely holding Steve together with spoonfuls of peanut butter and reassuring words that didn’t stick quite as hard as the peanut butter. They got even closer after that, and hardly a day passed where Jonathan wasn’t texting Steve or showing up at his apartment with take out and stories from whatever modeling shoot he was working on.

“And you think he’s gonna let that happen?”

“If he knows what’s good for him.”

Jonathan snorts. “Okay. On that note, I’m gonna go check on Nancy. She got into the weed earlier and she’s probably at the stage where the walls are squiggly and she can feel her lungs touching her ribs.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he nods. He knows what she’s like at that point. Jonathan needs to get her home before everyone knows what she’s like at that point.

The moment Jonathan is gone, Eddie is walking towards him.

Steve’s never felt more like prey in his life, never seen Eddie strut like this. He’s frozen. He forgets how to breathe.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” are the first words Eddie says to him in six months.

No hello. No awkward exchange of pleasantries.

Just a mild accusation and a piercing look.

“I wouldn’t be if I’d known you’d be here,” he retorts, deciding to match his energy. If Eddie is allowed to be at this party of a mutual friend’s mutual friend, then Steve is too. “Didn’t even know Ivy had your number.”

Ivy was one of Nancy’s friends from school, and Steve had been invited to quite a few of her parties over the last few years. When they were together, Steve always brought Eddie, but he didn’t know if Ivy and Eddie had ever even met.

“I know Ivy pretty well, actually,” Eddie says in a way that makes Steve pause.

What the fuck does that mean?

“So you’re…friends?” Steve asks even though he thinks he knows where this is going and he thinks he’s gonna be sick if he’s right.

“Yeah.” Eddie smirks. “Friends.”

“Oh.”

Steve has to abort whatever mission he thought he was on. This is gonna end with him crying in front of Eddie and everyone else at this stupid party that he came to because he’d had a rough week and just wanted to have a drink with friends and-

“Are you gonna be sick?” Eddie asks, reaching out to him as if that would even help.

“No!” Steve backs away. “I just need to head out. Got an early morning.”

“On a Sunday? You don’t work Sundays.”

“And how would you know?”

Steve needs to leave. He can’t engage in anything else with Eddie. He won’t recover.

“Because you wouldn’t have come at all if you had work in the morning. And everyone you would hang out with is here.” Eddie steps closer to him. “Unless something’s changed?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sure I owe you an explanation of my schedule.”

Eddie seems to realize that Steve’s right, taking a step back.

“Right. That’s true. I guess.”

And suddenly Steve can see how uncomfortable Eddie is, how much courage and energy it took him just to walk up to Steve at all. He’s always been pretty easy to read, at least for Steve, but right now it’s like he’s made of glass.

“How you been?” Steve asks, ignoring the pull he feels to the door for the pull he feels to Eddie.

“Um, good. Yeah, great. Fantastic. You?”

Steve raises a brow at the response. Eddie’s never been fantastic a day in his life.

Except maybe that one time he ate Steve out on a patio chair by the pool and then fucked him in his parent’s hot tub and claimed that he’d never been happier in his entire life.

“I’ve been fine.”

Not a lie. He has been fine most of the time. Fine isn’t anything special, or anything good.

“You look…good.” Eddie settles on, as if he was going to say something else entirely. “Still going to the gym?”

“Not as often as I should,” Steve admits. He’s about to call this quits when he sees Jonathan giving him a thumbs up from the doorway. “Uh. I should actually probably head out though.”

“Right. Yeah. Sure. Want me to let Ivy know you had to go?”

Steve shouldn’t fucking push. He knows he’s gonna end up hurt worse if he gets any form of confirmation on what he thinks is going on.

“I’ll just text her. But I guess if you see her before you go…”

“I mean, yeah, I’m kinda…living here right now?” Eddie rubs his hand along the back of his neck.

Steve thinks he might pass out.

He’s living with a woman not even six full months after he broke up with Steve because Steve wanted to take the next step and move in together?

He feels like he’s going crazy.

“With Ivy?” Steve can barely hear his own voice, doesn’t even know if Eddie hears him until he responds.

“I couldn’t renew my lease so she offered to let me stay here for a few months while I looked for something else,” he explains, as if that clears anything up. As if that helps the jealous fire in Steve’s heart calm. “That’s the only reason I’m even here tonight. I was off and she needed an extra pair of eyes to make sure no one tried to drive home after drinking.”

“Well, I haven’t even been drinking.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“You think I’ve looked anywhere other than you since you walked in the door?”

Steve feels like his entire body is lifting above the floor, and he’s reminded that Eddie’s good at this. Flirting like he means it, using words but not wanting more than that.

That he may have feelings for Steve, but god forbid those feelings lead anywhere other than a bed or a date.

“Doesn’t seem appropriate to stare at me all night with your girlfriend in the next room.”

“Girlfriend? What? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Eddie seems genuinely confused, his brows furrowing as he looks around the room and back at Steve.

“Isn’t Ivy your girlfriend?”

“Ivy?! Ivy Jane? The woman who told me on day one of me living here that if she even so much as accidentally saw my dick she’d cut it off?” Eddie laughs, unamused. “She’s a friend at most. More of a useful annoyance.”

Steve is confused. Why did Eddie make it seem like there was more to it than that? Why couldn’t Eddie renew his lease? Why didn’t anyone tell him about any of this?

“Look, you probably shouldn’t head home on your own. I know you didn’t drink, but it’s still pretty late, and I know you walked here.” Eddie sighs. “Can I at least get you an Uber?”

“To go less than a mile?”

“Or I could walk you.”

“And then walk back alone?”

“You don’t have to argue with everything, you know,” Eddie grumbles. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”

“I didn’t know ex-boyfriends cared that much.”

It’s a low blow and Eddie’s physical withdrawal is immediate. Steve instantly feels bad.

No matter what happened between them, he knows Eddie. He knows he’s trying to be nice and all Steve’s doing is making that task more difficult.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve sighs. “I’m just surprised that you’d care this much when we haven’t even talked in months.”

“Steve, I’ll always care about you.”

It’s a knife to his chest.

Because that’s not even remotely close to what Eddie had said to him months ago when he was throwing his shit in a bag and running as fast as he could. It’s not how he made Steve feel when he told him they were done.

”I’m not gonna keep pretending this can end well for either of us.”

He’d made it pretty obvious he had no intention of loving Steve beyond the year they spent together, and Steve had no choice but to assume he’d been faking feelings for him to try to get over him.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s let tears fall until Eddie’s thumbs are brushing them away, his touch so soft it makes Steve want to sob.

Before he can say anything or push Eddie away, Eddie’s hand is on his lower back, guiding him down the hallway of the apartment.

He doesn’t fight it, even though alarm bells are ringing in his head telling him to pause and go home, maybe try to talk to Eddie when he’s calmed down from the shock of seeing him. The warmth of Eddie next to him is enough to silence any fears he has.

He’s sitting on Eddie’s bed. The room is surprisingly plain for a room that belongs to Eddie, but the sheets on the bed are scattered and one pillow looks more like a ball, so he knows it’s his. Eddie sleeps the same way he talks: constantly moving, shuffling around, trying to find comfort in touch.

“I’ll take the couch once everyone leaves. You probably shouldn’t be alone right now,” Eddie says from in front of him, keeping his hands to himself.

He probably shouldn’t, but if Eddie’s on the couch, doesn’t that leave him alone anyway?

“You can come get me if you need anything,” Eddie explains further. “And I can come check on you.”

“Right,” Steve’s voice is shaky. “But you could stay?”

Eddie’s eyes are scanning his face, always trying to see what Steve isn’t saying. He’s always been good about reading Steve.

“Is that what you want?” Eddie eventually asks.

Steve nods because he can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound like he’s desperate for more of Eddie’s touch.

He lays down and waits for Eddie to join him, but he’s not sure what he’s hoping for anymore. The best thing to do would be to tell Eddie he changed his mind and send him to the couch, the second best would probably be to go home. But what ends up happening is Eddie locks the bedroom door and slips his shoes off, strips his jeans down his legs, and slides into bed with him.

He doesn’t touch him at first, though the bed isn’t quite big enough for them to not accidentally brush arms as they find comfortable positions.

Steve lets his eyes close, even though he’s never felt more awake, even though he feels every breath Eddie takes as if it’s his own.

“I love you.”

Steve’s eyes shoot open at Eddie’s whispered confession.

They were together for a year and Eddie never said it. Steve didn’t even say it for fear of Eddie running. And when he finally did say it, when he had the nerve to ask him to move in with him, Eddie ran.

So, he couldn’t have possibly heard what he thought he just heard.

“I know it’s too late. I should’ve told you six months ago.” Eddie scoffed at his own words. “Actually, I should’ve told you when I realized it on our third date. There’s no excuse. You told me why you were hesitant to tell people how you felt and I should’ve known it would be harder for you than it would be for me.”

Steve turns on his side, eyes wide as he takes in the way Eddie’s eyes are slowly blinking up at the ceiling, fingers tapping anxiously against his own stomach.

“Why did you leave, then? If you loved me, why did you let me think you didn’t?”

Steve’s impressed with his sudden ability not to cry when he’d so easily let tears fall earlier.

Eddie turns his head. His fingers still. The room is silent, but Steve can feel the vibrations of the music playing down the hall.

“I don’t know.”

It’s anticlimactic, and not good enough, but Steve believes him. He believes that Eddie truly doesn’t know his own thought process behind walking away from what could’ve been a good future for them.

“Why say it now?”

“Because I needed you to leave here in the morning knowing that what you were asking for wasn’t unreasonable. I needed you to know that your feelings were fine, and that nothing you did pushed me away. You deserve the chance to move on properly.”

Steve can feel his heart in every nerve ending of his body, pulsing to a wild beat, a dangerous tempo that he isn’t sure he wants to control. Eddie always made him feel like this, like he was one step away from jumping off a ledge, like he was flying through the air without a parachute.

“I don’t want to move on.”

Steve crushes his lips to Eddie’s, letting out a pained groan that’s muffled by Eddie’s lips pushing against his own. It’s not soft, not even gross the way their kisses got when they’d been sweaty and pushing each other to their limits for hours.

It was forgiveness and yearning and need wrapped into a single point of contact.

But once Eddie’s hands found Steve’s hips, all he wanted was to feel Eddie everywhere.

“Missed you,” he admits breathlessly.

“Missed you, too, Stevie. So much,” Eddie gasps against his mouth.

It doesn’t take long for them to strip out of their clothes, for Eddie’s mouth to find all of Steve’s sensitive spots, for bruises to be left in places that will be hard to cover up tomorrow. They’re both panting, trying to hide moans against the pillows and sweaty skin.

Steve laughs when Eddie’s lips trail down to the head of his leaking cock.

Eddie looks up, frowning as if he’s disappointed that he was interrupted.

“What could you possibly be laughing at?”

“How easy it was to get me in your bed. Did you know I was coming tonight?” He does his best not to sound accusatory, but a small part of him worries that Eddie’s plan all night has been to get him naked. It wouldn’t be the first time those were his intentions.

“I had no idea you’d be here,” Eddie nips at his thigh. “But if I did, I would’ve planned this exact outcome, yeah.”

Steve slaps at his shoulder but moans when Eddie’s lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue lapping up the precum that had been gathering for a while.

They get lost in it, in being able to touch each other, in finally having what they’d both missed for so long. Steve’s hands hardly ever leave Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s tongue is like a magnet to every inch of his skin.

He kisses down his length, he sucks bruises into his thighs, he sucks his cock until Steve’s trembling under him, saying his name over and over. Begging, praying, he didn’t even know anymore.

Steve doesn’t even realize he’s close until Eddie’s asking if he wants to finish like this or with Eddie inside him.

“Want you inside, but I don’t know if I can last that long,” Steve pouts. Now that he feels the coil in his belly and the flush of his chest and neck, he knows there’s no way he’ll make it through Eddie stretching him. He’s half-tempted to just have Eddie fuck him with no prep, but Eddie will never go for it. “C’mere?”

Eddie kisses his way up Steve’s body, biting a nipple and licking sweat from his collarbone before settling perfectly between his legs. He’s smiling down at Steve like he could stay there all night, like he didn’t just get interrupted in the middle of one of the best blowjobs of Steve’s life.

“Can we just…” Steve tilts his hips up so his cock rubs against Eddie’s. Both of them groan as Eddie hangs his head. “Like this?”

Eddie nods before resting his forehead against Steve’s and letting out a breath.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he whispers, like it’s a secret that he’s been getting off making Steve feel good.

“Me either. ‘S okay.”

Their cocks brush together as Eddie leans down on his elbows. Steve lifts his legs up to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him down so there’s a constant friction between them.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you,” Steve’s breath catches on his words.

Eddie’s hips move faster, and Steve does his best to meet every thrust. They’re in sync as if they were never apart, and Steve thinks this is all he needs for the rest of his life.

He knew that before, when they were together, and after Eddie left. But feeling it now, with Eddie above him, surrounding him, practically sharing his breaths, he knows Eddie’s it for him.

That thought is what sends him over the edge.

He cups Eddie’s cheek in his hand and pulls him into a searing kiss, one that’s more tongue and teeth than lips, more passion than finesse.

But it sends Eddie over the edge, too.

After, when they’ve stopped shaking and Eddie used his t-shirt to wipe up their mess, Steve taps his fingers against Eddie’s chest in a familiar pattern.

“Since when do you know the beat to a Metallica song?” Eddie asks, smirking down at him.

“It’s what you always used to tap on my arm when we were falling asleep. I didn’t know it was Metallica,” Steve yawns as he speaks, exhaustion seeping through every pore of his body.

“You remembered that?”

“Mhm. Remember everything.” He yawns again and lets his eyes close.

He’s pretty sure Eddie starts tapping a new pattern on his arm as he drifts to sleep. He doesn’t recognize it, but he’ll have plenty of time to learn this one, and the next one, and whatever else the future brings for them.

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Simon had told you he never wanted to be a dad, so when the inevitable happens you run.

Word Count: 2.2k

Tw: angst, fluff, ooc simon(? descriptions of pregnancy and panic attacks, medical inaccuracies, slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit, this isn't proofread; i think that's it?✨

A/N: omg i couldn't stop thinking about this so i had to write it! I'm just feral for dad!simon loosely connected to this bc this is where the idea came from. Hope y'all enjoy it🫰🏻💛🦄

Masterlist✨| Part 2

You're shaking by the time you're out of the bathrooms. There's no doubt. You think with slight tremble on your lower lip. It almost feels aa of the world around you is closing in. Suffocating your lungs. Your vision blurs, when you toss the pregnancy test in the trash can.

This can't be happening. Not to you.

It's not that you didn't want to have kids.

But Simon didn't.

At this point you're sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air. It's a good thing no one comes to this part late at night. The only moment you could find peace and solace. Sliding down the wall, hiding your face in your hands. How could you let this happen? You should've been more careful.

Your mind goes back to that day when neither of you cared about the consequences. Caught up in the moment, tearing each other's clothes; eager to be together. You hadn't seen Simon in two months when he was deployed to Serbia and you had to stay behind. Being both in the military meant knowing the risks. Every time could be the last time. You heard things about that specific mission. He got injured. You remember the gnawing fear clawing at your chest. And then there he was, knocking on your door as soon as they landed. His shoulder wrapped around bandages. He kissed you hard, desperately.

Hitting the mattress with you on top of him, not wanting to hurt him anymore. The sweet things he murmured in your ears, hands intertwined as you fall apart together.

You love him.

He cares for you.

But even if he felt slightly the same way about you, it wouldn't be enough.

Simon had... traumas. A tragic story of his own. You heard him talk about it late at night when he couldn't sleep. Those demons that plagued his mind, his dreams... and you listened. That's all you could do.

Offer a hand to the man that had saved you over and over again. And somewhere along the lines you fell.

And you fell hard.

Somewhere between dark nights and shared kisses at dawn.

-

You didn't get any sleep last night.

Your mind is still spinning with the anxiety. The morning sickness that started to disrupt as soon as you woke up. Red, puffy eyes that you try to dissimulate by washing your face hoping it goes away.

You get dressed feeling devastated, knowing that you'll have to face him as soon as you enter the training room. He's in charge. The mere thought makes you want to throw up. But you leave the bedroom nonetheless. Walking down the hallway feeling your hands sweating and your ragged breathing.

When you finally open the doors you're fifteen minutes late. That alone will earn you a punishment.

It's almost as if he feels your presence, immediately finding your form when you enter, his jaw tightens. Simon doesn't like this. But as long as you're under his command you get equal treatment or else, he'd be in problems. Both, would be in problems.

"Bit late Sergeant." He grumbles, emphasizing the last word staring directly in your eyes. Ghost is perceptive and is aware that something is wrong, but doesn't comment on it... yet. "Fifty push-ups. Start sparring when you're done."

You swallow down saliva, feeling your throat constrict.

Fuck, fuck. Don't cry. Not right now.

This whole situation has you sensitive.

You start, concentrating on doing the push-ups. Hearing the distant voice of him echoing around the room, sometimes you think he's closer to where you are then he's gone, but his gaze never leaves you. It's almost sinful how good he looks in that tight green army t-shirt and cargo pants

Your arms are sore and wobbly by the time you finish. Standing up you fight a wave o nausea, closing your eyes so hard you see white dots behind your eyelids.

"You alright?" It's Kyle's hand on your shoulder what brings you back, your eyes fluttering open and find him looking at you, eyebrows slightly raised.

You give him a small smile and a nod.

"Just tired that's all. Didn't get much sleep last night." You divert your gaze where the rest are beginning to spar. "How mad is Ghost?"

Gaz chuckles.

"I wouldn't call that mad. I think he's worried. You look like shite, dear."

"Oh." You say.

Gaz prompts you to the other side to join the training. Everyone's gathered around the training mat. Soap is kicking a soldier's ass. What was his name again? You forgot.

A gentle brush on your skin and then delicate fingers wrap your arm. You freeze, Simon's feather touch sends goosebumps all over your body. You turn your face upward to acknowledge him. His deep blue eyes soften when you look at him.

"Is everything okay Sergeant?" He asks. No. He demands.

You open your mouth and then close it. That's a question you don't know yourself.

I wish. You want to say.

But nothing will ever be okay after last night.

"I... I- didn't get much sleep, Sir. That's all."

Simon sighs but doesn't insist. He just nods, accepting your answer for now, once the training is done he'd talk to you. "You're up." He instructs.

Hand to hand to combat has never been your strongest suit but you do it nonetheless. Informatics on the other hand... you're the best of the best. That's why you're here, why you're a part of the task force.

Ghost stands within your range of vision in a way that you can see that he's there even when you're fighting.

You start although you're not in your best shape. Your heart is racing but not for the adrenaline. Your mind is fuzzy and your stomach churns. The panic is starting to break loose on you. You recognize the signs. You barely dodge the man's punch, this can't be called sparring. You're merely deflecting his hits, defending yourself.

Get a fucking grip!

Soap and Gaz look at each other. Then at Ghost who's clenching his fists, looking like he's about to jump between the two and kill the man. They get ready just in case something goes sideways.

You see his fist coming to your face, you take a step back but it grazes your left cheek. Someone in the distance swears and it's enough to distract you, the next blow goes to your gut. He doesn't even hit you with full force, noticing your lack of response he refrains as much as he can but it connects with your abdomen nevertheless.

It suffocates you. Brings you to your knees spitting saliva and gasping for air. You hear the soldier's frantic apologies. You cough trying to breathe but you just can't. It hurts you.

In a quick move Ghost is kneeling beside you, eyes scanning your body for external injuries. Anything.

"Hey... hey, kid! Look at me!" He orders. You can't, mostly because you're gasping for air, coughing, and the pain in your stomach. Ghost grabs your face seeing the tears collecting in the corner of your eyes. Another wave of nausea hits you and you spit out whatever comes out of your mouth. Simon takes you in his arms lifting you and runs to the infirmary, gritting his teeth. His steps echoing in the empty hallway as he bursts the doors of the med wing open.

-

"Captain..." you greet him as soon as you walk into his office, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Price looks at you, arms crossed. The bucket hat resting on his head. He's dead serious.

"Does he know?" He interrogates with that deep voice of his. It's only been an hour since the incident. Price had to do all in his power to keep Ghost busy. It nearly costs him a limb and a punch to his face. There's only so much he can do.

"No." You murmur, looking down to your feet.

"Jesus, kid." He pinches the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding already. This wasn't good. For any of them. John had decided to turn a blind eye on the situation. As long as it didn't interfere with their duties. Now? He shakes his head. Price walks towards you, the youngest of his team and a valuable asset. You were important to him, to everyone in the 141; to Simon in a very different way. "I'm putting you on medical leave. You must take care of your health, your body. I'll see what I can do, yeah? And for the love of God, talk to Simon."

-

You don't.

And that's because you're terrified. As soon as you left Price's office you ran to your room throwing your belongings in a duffel bag. You needed time to think. Of course you'd tell Simon.

Just not right now.

The disapproving stare of the doctor was enough to make you feel bad about hiding your pregnancy from him and then your Captain. You bite your lip and head out, the taxi driver is waiting already so you hop in, wishing to get some time alone. Clear your head and then find the best way to tell Simon about this.

It's raining outside by the time you're in your apartment. You've had time to get a quick shower and take the ibuprofen for your sore body. Your hands run absentmindedly to your stomach, soothing the skin but flinching when you press too hard. You should've stayed at base and talk to him after what happened.

But you're scared of the outcome.

By this time Simon must've found out you're gone. You won't blame him if he hates you. After all you ran away from him, like a coward.

Pouring some tea on a mug you hear the sound of keys jingle, and the footsteps followed by a large shadow that towers above you. Blond hair and hard eyes contemplating you, the mask is gone...

Holy shit. You think.

The only thing that Simon finds comfort in is gone. There's something about him not hiding behind the balaclava that sets deep in your heart. As if he were baring himself to you. Not that you hadn't seen his face before; that's exactly why this is more meaningful. It's serious. He chose to show you how vulnerable you can make him.

"Why?" His stern voice sends shivers down your spine. "I went to check on you and the first thing they say is that you're gone." His lips are pressed in a thin line.

"Simon, it's not what you're thinking..."

"Then bloody tell me what is it." He seethes, taking a step closer. "Was already losing my fucking mind over that bastard hitting you and suddenly you're gone?" He shakes his head. "Had I known you weren't going to fight back..."

"I'm pregnant." You blurt out, interrupting his talk. Simon's jaw clenched, halting and freezing on his spot. "And I'm sorry I didn't come to you as soon as I found out but I was scared." Your lips quiver and you hold back a sob, but unable to do much about the tears. "I was scared to tell you because I know you never wanted any of this, I failed to you. I couldn't sleep, I was panicking and the thought of losing you... I needed time to figure out how to tell you." Simon is silent, he doesn't move nor blinks. He just stares. Memories of his time with his father flooding his mind. He never wanted kids. That's true.

Seeing you there, in front of him. Choking on your words, crying because you thought he'd abandon you like you were nothing? Bloody fucking Christ it breaks his heart. Very few things had that effect on Simon. He had made you fearful of facing this on your own. Did you think you were just his friend with benefits? Someone he'd come to whenever he wanted to get laid? Hadn't you seen the way his eyes roamed over you whenever you were around? Never fucking heard the despair in his voice when you got shot during that black ops in Afghanistan? How he seemed to loom over your presence if some pathetic muppet tried flirting with you? The nights spent in his bedroom, limbs tangled hearing you speak about your day? The mission when he finally realized he was completely and utterly fucking enamored with you?

That time he wouldn't leave your bedside because you were severely wounded and comatose?

"I am not my old man, kid." He states after a few minutes of silence. "And if it wasn't clear already, I'd do anything for you. I don't know shite about being a parent but I'll try, yeah? For you..." he clears his throat. This was as complicated for him as it was for you. "For both of you, I'll try." The words sound strange coming out of his mouth. You close the space between you and hug him, inhaling his scent. He kisses your temple while rubbing soft circles on your back. Relief washes over your body and the tears stop gradually, until it's just the two holding one another during a raging storm of feelings and nature outside.

Soon the tension, the doubts and the anxiety are replaced with reassurance and loving words.

Promises.

Things you never thought you'd hear.

[hyuuukais]

heyllo :3

can i request reader x chan? reader is overwhelmed but keeps it in because that’s what they see chan doing a lot of the time. but eventually it builds to a breaking point where the stress causes them to completely shut down. chan doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong so it might be cute if he just sits on the floor in front of reader and plays clips from a song he’s working on and asks for their opinion (by basically talking out loud to himself) and then after reader calms down they are able to verbalize they just need a human weighted blanket and to be told they are doing amazing and their efforts are not going unnoticed.

im fine. 🥲

just hold me, tell me you love me

pairing : chan x reader

notes : me vs the long title. anyway thank uuu for being my first request! i hope this lives up to ur expectations and can provide u some comfort 🫶 sending u hugs and love 🫂💙 sorry it's taken a bit long to get back to! kind of was getting this feeling myself and have been unable to write, but i think i'm getting back

warnings : reader is overwhelmed, mentions of anxiety, fear of opening up to someone, reader is called pet names (love, baby), reader breaks down

wc : 1.4k

All week there's been a growing pressure in your chest threatening to spill all over the floor and leave you a mess, lying on the ground with nothing else to give. Give, you've given all you can, and now that you're home, you can't do it anymore. You seek peace in the quiet of your shared bedroom, your boyfriend still at work in his studio.

Your boyfriend, who works hard day and night. Your boyfriend, who's loving and caring and sweet. Your boyfriend, who you're scared to open up to when things get really hard, because he doesn't share with you either. Although the relationship isn't fresh, going on a year and a half, there are still things you don't talk about. You don't want to burden him with your struggles when you've always been able to power through by yourself.

Fisting the sheets under you, you can feel the need to cry in your body, the hollow feeling in your chest and the tightness in your throat, but nothing comes. It's like your body knows you're too tired for even that simple of an action, for even one tear to slip. So instead, you sit the the blanket over you, face peeking out to stare at the wall with tired eyes. You can't sleep. If you close your eyes, you know you won't drift off and wake up feeling better, you'll just lie there for hours.

"Baby?"

Something spikes in you when you hear Chans voice ring out through the apartment, curling into yourself more. He shouldn't be home this early and yet, here he is, calling your name and wondering where you are; you're never in bed this early. Chan continues to call out for you until you hear the bedroom door opening quietly.

"Love?" Chans footsteps get closer, and you can feel the edge of the bed dip with his weight as he sits down. "My love..."

His hand brushes over your shoulder, but you can't face him. When you bring the blanket over your head more, he seems to get the hint, shifting to lean against the headboard next to the statue that is your body, unmoving and heavy. You can feel him fiddling beside you, and soon, a soft melody fills your ears. It's enough to distract you temporarily from the raging storm in your head, focusing on the beats, and when Chans voice comes through, it's like you can feel a sense of comfort washing over you. Although it's not enough to completely take these feelings away, you're grateful for what he's doing.

"This song has been giving me trouble," Chan comments over the music, sighing heavily. "I can't figure out if I like the chorus or not, and it feels like it's missing something in general, but I don't know what. What do you think, baby?"

Unable to answer verbally, but still wanting him to know you're listening, you roll around so you're facing him. He chuckles as you bury your face under his thigh when you see he's sitting cross-legged, the pressure on your face oddly comforting. Chan places a hand on your back, his arm resting behind your head as he rubs small circles over your thick layer of blanket. Another song starts playing after a while, another soft one, too. You relax under his touch, feeling the vibrations through his body as he hums along to this one and makes occasional comments about changes he'd like to make.

Exhaustion hits you like a ton of bricks, your eyes fluttering shut as he keep playing different songs and telling you all about them. Both of you are aware that he shouldn't be playing so much unreleased music, but all Chan cares about in this moment is you, helping you, calming you, loving you. The company will never know anyway.

"Chan," You whisper, voice barely audible. His humming stops and he pauses the music, looking down at your limp form with furrowed brows. Moving your head slightly, you're able to look up at him on an angle, the cool air of the bedroom breaching your blanket cocoon.

"What is it, baby?" Chan moves some hair from your face, leaving this palm to rest on your cheek.

"Can you just-" You clear your throat, one hand coming up to play with the hem of his shorts at his knee to calm you more. "Just hold me, tell me you love me?"

Without words, he shifts down to your level and nods. Carefully, Chan guides you to face away from him and brings you close to his body, your back pressed tightly against his chest. His chin rests on your shoulder, now enveloped inside your blanket as he holds onto you tightly, scared that if he let's go, you'll fade away. The thought of you being in so much pain, whether physical or emotional, is something he can't bear; he can't sit on the sidelines and watch you wither away. Neither of you speak as you lie there for what feels like hours, although it must only be a few minutes. The feeling of Chan's breath on your neck is oddly comforting, your own hands finding his arm around your waist and holding onto him.

Something about the way Chan is holding you, comforting you without the pressure of being asked what's wrong, has you finally breaking down. It starts small, holding back a few tears, but a few escaping despite your efforts. Then Chan shifts closer, pressing soft lips on the skin behind your ear.

"I love you, you know that? So, so much," He whispers, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he buries his face into your hair. "You're doing amazing, baby, and I mean that. I thought... I thought something might have been wrong, but I didn't know how to go about this. I'm sorry it got to this point, I should have asked. I want you to know you can always turn to me, okay?"

His words have the dam breaking and soon enough, the sobs ripping from your chest have you gasping and hiccupping like there's no tomorrow. You don't register the way Chan tries to soothe you as he pulls you around and into his chest. Subconsciously, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and roll his body onto yours, his head sitting in the crook of your neck. The weight feels nice, grounding, and you can finally hear Chan speaking again.

"Shhh, it's okay, you're okay." Chan whispers into the skin of your neck, one of his hands smoothing back your hair. "You're okay, I'm here, now breathe, alright? Breathe, baby."

He inhales deeply, and you do your best to mimic his movements. It's shaky, but you're doing it.

"Good job, you're doing great," Chan keeps his voice low as he speaks. "Keep breathing."

It gets to the point where you don't need to think about breathing anymore, your head throbbing slightly from the sudden outburst of emotion. Chan's body stays on yours, but he props himself up enough to look at you, his palm on your cheek and his thumb wiping away any remaining tears. You can barely look him in the eye.

All he does is stare at you with those pretty, dark eyes, but you realize there's a dampness under them matching yours. You open your mouth to question it, but he shakes his head, a soft smile on his face.

"I don't want you to be in pain alone ever again." His thumb continues to caress your cheek, even though the tears have dried. "I love you too much to let you go through that. Whatever's going on, tell me when you're ready, yeah? For now, just let me gush about my beautiful partner until they're feeling better."

You can't help the small laugh that escapes you as Chan surges up to pepper your face in kisses, saying praises in between each one. With every kiss, you can feel your face heating up until you try and cover it, but he just grabs your wrists and pulls your hands away. Eventually, he slows down, pressing one last kiss directly on your lips, and settles back onto you.

"Let's stay like this for a while," Chan suggests, knowing you need it, but so does he. "My favourite place is in your arms."

-

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom

[ba9go]

Hey!!! I was wondering if you could write about reader still having really bad nightmares of katsuki’s death? With some comfort from him and whatnot. Maybe when he finally wakes up again too? Completely up to you! 🫶

(I keep seeing it on my fyp on tiktok and it has me sobbing.)

having nightmares about losing katsuki (again)

WARNING: REFERENCES TO MAJOR SPOILERS, EXPLICIT MENTION OF CHARACTER DEATH UNDER THE CUT

hurt/comfort; reader has really bad nightmares about losing katsuki again. fem reader (katsuki calls u his strong girl once at the very end!)

ever since katsuki woke up, you've been having the same nightmare for weeks.

the first time it happened, you woke up gasping for air, chest tight and heart pounding. your eyes were wide open, but you could barely see anything in the pitch black darkness. still, you whipped your head to the side, and you sigh quietly.

you could barely make out the head of blonde hair next to you. though you could barely see katsuki, you could definitely feel katsuki. his warm body was pressed up against yours. one strong arm wrapped around your waist, and the other tucked under your neck.

katsuki's here.

katsuki stirs slightly from your sudden jostling, and you can barely make out the frown that creases between his brows. you don't notice it but you hold your breath until his face relaxes again and he falls back into his peaceful slumber.

it took you a while to fall back asleep, and you didn't tell katsuki about your nightmare when you both woke up the next morning.

the nightmares persisted for weeks. it sucked, but at least it wasn't nearly as bad as when katsuki had actually been dead. you could hardly sleep during that period, spending most of your nights crying and sobbing instead. any wink of sleep you got was probably from you blacking out of sheer exhaustion.

you told yourself that it wasn't that bad. after all, katsuki's here and alive, isn't he? surely, the nightmares would go away.

but they didn't. it wasn't every night that you had nightmares, it wasn't even the same nightmare most of the time. sometimes, you'd dream of fighting shigaraki alongside katsuki until katsuki puts his own life on the line to save yourself, and you'd wake up broken and guilt-ridden. sometimes, you'd dream of not being next to katsuki in his final moments.

but one thing was constant in all of your nightmares — katsuki didn't wake up.

thankfully, katsuki doesn't seem to catch on to your nightly afflictions. he stirs on some nights where you wake up crying, but you've always managed to stifle your sobs just enough to make sure he wouldn't actually wake up.

katsuki does, however, notice your puffy, red eyes and stuffy nose the mornings after.

"allergies, huh?" katsuki huffed, grabbing your hand and placing a couple of pills on your palm.

"oh, um, yeah." you don't dare to meet katsuki's gaze. you feel like you'd crack instantly and tell him about everything. "allergies."

at some point, the nightmares stopped being just nightmares. your thoughts and fears of losing katsuki started haunting even during the day.

katsuki finishes whipping up breakfast, placing your plates on the table. you do your best to smile and thank him for the food when he sits down in front of you, but your eyes end up drifting to the scar on his face.

katsuki cocks his head to the side, raising a hand to touch his scar lightly. "what, ya think m'ugly or somethin'?"

your eyes widen and you shake your head vehemently. "no, no, no, of course not! i would nev—"

"then what's botherin' ya?" katsuki pushes his plate slightly over to the side to let you know that he's fully invested in this conversation and will not resume breakfast until this conversation is had.

"what do you mean?" you try your luck anyway.

"m'not messin' around, y/n," katsuki frowns, but the look in his eyes tells you he's more worried than upset with you. "c'mon."

"i..." you started fidgeting with your hands under the table. "i've been having nightmares. about you, i mean." your eyes start to tear up as soon as you finish your sentence, and katsuki's getting up and by your side in an instant.

"darlin'," katsuki starts as he crouches down next to your chair. he takes your hands gently in his and starts tracing little circles with his thumbs. "for how long?"

"i dunno. been a few weeks."

"weeks?" katsuki echoes, and you wince. "baby, why didn't ya tell me?"

"didn't wanna burden you. i thought i was bein' silly. i mean, you're here. my brain's just—"

"scared, yeah?" katsuki finishes for you. he cups your cheek softly and looks at you so lovingly, so knowingly. of course katsuki would understand. tears streak down your cheeks, and you start to wonder why you ever thought you'd have to hide such a thing from him.

"yeah," you whispered, resting your cheek against his palm and squeezing your eyes shut. "m'sorry. i get it now. i won't hide things anymore."

katsuki wipes your tears away with calloused, soft hands, and you feel him lean in to press a soft kiss against your lips.

"that's my strong girl."

you break down completely, and katsuki holds you in steady arms and lets you cry into his shoulder, patting your head and whispering sweet nothings to you.

"m'not goin' anywhere, you got that? went through all of that to get back to you. m'here now. ya ain't gotta worry no more, alright? i've got you."

thank you so much for the request!! 🌷 i hope i did it justice hahdhwjds and sorry for the inactivity, life has been kinda hectic recently. i hope everyone's doing well :))

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @nemisimp @an-na-bella @valeriyaaak @buggie07 @v3n7s @deimosjay @iguanahykhv @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @yoyolovesdaiki @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy

[moonchild9350]

Chosen One

Pairing: Angel Felix x fab reader

Genre: fantasy au, romance au, angst, smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: dubcon, stalking (in a sense), coercion, oral sex (f receiving), god awful amount of kissing, dry humping, nipple play, p in v penetration, creampie (don't), squirting, cum tasting/swapping, big cock felix,

Notes: this is sort of a continuation of a previous fic I did. You do not have to read the other one in order to read this one as they are stand alone. But, if you'd like to do so, you can here. Anyway, spooktober continues! the ending is sorta up to interpretation.

If you enjoyed this, consider a like, reblog, or comment as it makes my day ♡

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." -Edgar Allen Poe

Felix arrived in front of a tall, golden door, the frame so high he had to crane his head back to see the end of it. He took a deep breath, placing a hand over his heart, willing it to slow. He pushed open the door, pushing with all his might, grunting as the large door creaked and groaned, slowly opening with his effort.

He was summoned here by his master, for "a little talk." Whatever that meant. Once inside, Felix brushed off his hands on his gown and walked to the throne that sat at the end of the hall, eyeing the man seated there. The walk seemed long, each step ringing out in the empty room. He could have teleported to the throne, but he felt odd using his powers in front of such an all mighty being.

Once there, his master smiled and opened his mouth, his voice projecting loudly, each word enunciated so Felix would not misinterpret his message.

"Felix, you are needed on the mortal plane, to help out a girl who is contributing to the chaos of the cosmos. Make her happy however you need to."

Felix listened intently, his eyes large at the request. He finally received a mission, something he hasn't been granted in his thousands of years being here. Felix nodded and bowed, humbly accepting the quest before turning on his heels and making his way to the large door once more.

He needed to get to get back to his quarters where he can look upon his conquest. He must succeed if not for himself but for the peace of the cosmos as well.

--

Once in his quarters, Felix walked to the middle of his room and waved his hands, watching as the air rippled until a picture came into focus. He gazed into the depths, his eyes darting to and fro until he found who he was looking for.

There he saw you, his assignment, to help change the cosmos. He watched as you sat on the couch next to a man, your arms wrapped around his waist as you looked lovingly into his eyes. He smiled at the prospect of love, his lips turning upwards at the sight. He wondered why he was assigned to you, as everything seemed good, you seemed happy.

It didn't take long until he found the reason why. He watched as turmoil fell upon you, the arguments, the uncertainty. He watched as you locked yourself away, crying in the darkness, asking for things to change. That you would give anything for things to not be as they were.

But what confused him even more, was how in the next moment you would be happy again, smiling, laughing, loving, with your boyfriend, as if nothing happened the day before or the day before that. He couldn't understand the magnitude of your emotions, what went through you mind as you experience the rollercoaster called life.

Felix saw you through the depths, watching as misfortune found you again and again. He continued to watch as you screamed and cursed, your face and your actions a mixture of anger and sadness.

He felt something stir in his heart, a feeling he's never felt before. It was almost suffocating, but not in a bad way. He felt as if he couldn't breath, his heart rapidly beating as his eyes trailed you, watched you day after day.

His heart took pity on you, and the cruel fate life had dealt to you. He felt he needed to change that, after all it was his duty. But, he felt like there was something more, that he was destined for you in this deep expanse we call the cosmos.

That was the first year that he watched you.

From that day on, he made sure to watch you, to see if you had healed or was trying to heal, to see if life had dealt you a different hand. He was dismayed to see you worse than before. You seemed exhausted and on your last leg. Your eyes seemed dull, your face pale in comparison to before. You had lost that lust for life.

That was the first time he decided to visit you on the mortal plane. He took you under his wing, showering you with love and care, making you feel as if you were the only thing that mattered...and to him you were.

After your encounter, he saw that you were happier, your smile reaching your beautiful eyes once more. Felix was happy that he was able to help, to give you a part of him that will live within you forever, that would light your heart aflame. You thought he was but a dream, an apparition come to grace your dreams and fill them with happiness.

He was far from it however. Instead he was an ethereal being, living within the cosmos, his task to watch the mortals below, and in this case you, and ensure they followed the path of their dreams and ultimately happiness.

Felix continued to keep tabs on you, as you went through life, your days filled with happiness which slowly turned to despair. Felix was torn once more, his heart sinking at your plight. This time he watched as your heart was torn in two, as you experienced betrayal by the closest people in your life.

He thought you deserved more, seeing through the tough facade you wore, knowing that you had the sweetest core beneath the mask. Felix wanted nothing more than to help you break free, to become fully who you truly are.

'Alas, it’s time I pay another visit,’ he thought. He made preparations immediately to visit the mortal realm once more and ultimately you.

You were having a shit week which was nothing new. Life seemed to throw curveballs your way with no break in between, and today was no different.

You had to go pickup the last of your stuff from your ex boyfriend's apartment, a task you were dreading to do, not wanting to see the insufferable bastard. You hurried toward his apartment complex, your head down as you made your way through the throngs of people. You had your headphones in, music blaring, so you could ignore the world, wanting to get back home as soon as possible.

Stopping at a street corner, you awaited the light to signal for you to walk. You watched as cars zipped past, their speed whipping your hair in front of your face. As you moved the hair out of the way, you thought you saw someone you knew on the other side of the street.

They were standing at the edge of the sidewalk, staring straight at you. He looked at you with a smile on his face before he beckoned you over with a finger, the digit pointing and bending slowly.

You looked around to see if anyone else noticed the strange man, but everyone seemed to not notice the strange person at the other end of the street. When you looked back to where he was standing, he was…gone. You blinked your eyes once, twice, but the strange man was gone, like he disappeared in thin air. Shaking your head, thinking you were seeing things, you mad your way to the other side of the street, the light having turned green.

You had no other odd run-ins with the familiar person on your way to the complex, allowing you to make it in record time. You checked your watch and silently rejoiced, as your ex was probably still at work.

You quickly went in and grabbed your stuff and left, not giving the place you called home for the last five years a second glance. You sighed as you began your journey back to your apartment, the bags in your hands weighing you down. They weren’t heavy per se, but uncomfortable as the straps dug into your shoulders.

“Need help with that?”

You snapped your head toward the voice, a startled look on your face. There was a man standing in front of you, his hands behind his back as he stood against the building wall, staring at you.

You looked at his face, your breath catching. Your eyes wandered from his gentle, brown eyes to the hundreds of freckles lining his face, to his beautiful heart shaped lips. He looked familiar, but you had no idea where from.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you love,” the man said, his voice deep but soft like velvet.

You felt your heart quicken at the sound of his voice, the little hairs sticking up on your arms. You shook off the weird feeling you had deep down, listening to your heart instead of your gut.

“It’s ok,” you replied, giving the man a small smile.

The man smiled back and then gestured to your bags once more. You wanted to keep walking, but you felt mesmerized gazing at his beautiful face.

“Sure,” you said handing over one of your bags.

The man took the bag from you, your fingers brushing against his with the transfer, causing you to gasp and quickly pull your hand away. Turning toward the sidewalk, you watched as the man began to walk. You stared after him confused, warning bells going off in your head. How did he know you were going to continue in that direction? You could have crossed the street, as you were back at the intersection.

Ignoring all reason, you jogged to catch up, your bag swinging behind you.

“So, recent breakup?” the man asked, as he turned to look at you, curiosity on his face.

You were silent for a moment wondering how he knew.

“Uh..yeah.”

“Mmm. I’m sorry. He wasn’t a great guy though.”

You both walked in silence, as you were stunned and not sure what to say. How did he know? Does he know your ex? You really should have grabbed your bag from the man and ran, but instead you continued to walk side by side with him.

“Who are you?” you finally asked.

The man looked at you, his eyes wide at your question. However, after a moment, his features softened, his eyes taking an almost pitying look.

“I forgot you wouldn’t remember me. I’m Felix.”

Once you heard his name, you felt a warmth spread throughout you, starting in your fingertips, spreading through your arms and legs and eventually your heart, the name sparking something within you, even though you weren’t sure why.

You shivered despite the warm feeling and said, “Why would I remember you? We’ve never met…”

Felix ignored your question and continued to walk. You both walked in silence, neither breathing a word. Despite the silence, you felt at ease, feeling comfortable with your companion. It didn't take long for you both to reach your apartment.

Felix stopped and opened the door, pausing to allow you to walk through. You stepped over the threshold and made your way to your apartment. Felix smiled as you unlocked your door and opened it, revealing the dark space of your abode.

“You can just leave the bag there,” you said, pointing to the empty space by the door.

You dropped the bags you were carrying and walked to the living area, Felix right behind you. You kicked off your shoes and reclined on your couch, sinking into the pillows behind you, a heavy sigh leaving your lips.

“Thanks for your help Felix,” you said, turning your head to look at the mysterious man.

He nodded his head, a gentle smile on his face. You felt awkward, not sure what to say or do, so you continued to stare at Felix. Despite the awkward moment, you felt calm, the feeling familiar, just on the tip of your memory.

Felix looked deep into your eyes, memorizing once more the brown orbs, so beautiful in his sight. He lifted his hand to brush your cheek, watching as the warm flesh filled with red at his touch. You were beautiful, such a precious person in his life. He felt the need to care for you and show you his love.

He reached his arms out and brought you closer to him, wrapping you safely within them, feeling your body loosen in his hold. He smiled, happy that you were succumbing to his charm, just like last time.

You clutched at Felix’s shirt, breathing in his scent of vanilla…and something else you couldn’t quite place. You felt safe in his arms, the embrace familiar. As you sat there, you realized there was a picture in your mind, the scene similar to this one, almost like deja vu. The more you tried to focus and uncover the hazy picture in your mind, the more clear it became. You gasped, looking up at Felix, your eyes widened in shock.

Felix chuckled at your reaction, happy that you were finally connecting the dots. He’s awaited this moment for so long and now he finally has you again. He can finally show you his love for you.

You couldn’t look away. Your eyes were locked onto his face, as they examined the freckles that littered his cheeks, his eyes, even all the way to his ears. You thought them most beautiful, as they accentuated his beauty. Taking a breath, you lightly brushed your fingers over the little dots, tracing each one, taking in how he felt beneath your fingertips.

Every dip, crevice, or area smattered with soft peach fuzz, you admired, your heart swelling at this mans beauty. Your eyes traveled to his, startled at how he stared back at you, his pupils dilated to where the black of the center of his eye almost overshadowed the chocolate brown orb, his lips slightly parted to where you felt his breath, hot on your skin.

His gaze was almost predatory, causing you to quickly drop your hands, your eyes cast downwards so as not to see his intense gaze. He looked as if he wanted to kiss you, devour you, like an animal that hasn’t had its fill. You were slightly nervous and terrified, your heart pounding in your chest so loud, you were sure Felix heard it.

You chanced a look at his face once more, and noticed he was starting to lean closer to you, his eyes darting to your lips with each moment. Did you want to kiss this man? Your mind was telling you no, he could be dangerous, just look at his gaze. However, your heart and your body says otherwise, as you felt a deep longer within your core as your arousal slowly seeped from your pussy, coated your panties with the clear liquid.

Despite what you thought, you let yourself succumb to his charms, leaning closer, nuzzling yourself into his side as he held you tighter to his body. He slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, your soft lips melting with his. The kiss was gentle, his hand coming to cup your face as his lips continued to mold with yours.

Felix was trying to hold back and be gentle with you, as he knew you were struggling with yourself, the moment overwhelming in itself. He craved you, needed you, and has waited too long since your last encounter to taste you.

He licked your bottom lip before nipping it, shoving his tongue in your mouth as you gasped out in surprise. He deepened the kiss, muffling your moans as his tongue battled with yours. His hands were everywhere, needing to touch you, needing to feel you. You shivered with each pass of his hands, your resolve slipping with each passing second.

His hands slid lower, down your back until he reached your ass, giving the flesh a squeeze before grabbing hold of you and setting you down in his lap. You let out a yelp as your core came in contact with the bulge in his pants, your arms wrapping around his neck to anchor yourself.

You closed your eyes as Felix kissed you again, falling into the rhythm of your lips moving with his, the moment seeming so beautiful and tender, that moment of roughness gone. You felt your heart race, the incessant pounding increasing, getting louder as time passed. Your panties were soaked through as your arousal continued to steadily leak, coated the thin material.

Felix broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours as your breath came out ragged as you attempted to regulate your breathing. You sat there and experimentally rocked your hips over his bulge, both of you letting out a low moan at the sensation. Felix dragged his nose against your cheek, the flesh warm against his as he placed a kiss there before traveling lower. You buried your hands in his long, blonde hair as he continued to pepper kiss after kiss down your jaw, your neck, your shoulder and…wait, when did you get undress? When did Felix get undressed?

There you sat on his lap, bare for his eyes to see. You blushed as his eyes roamed your body, his eyes raking down your neck, to your breasts, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he eyed your pebbled nipples. With his thumbs, he brushed the digits over the nubs, causing you to moan out at the pleasure that went down your spine straight to your core.

Felix smiled at your reaction before doing it again, this time letting out a deep groan as you rolled your hips, your wet pussy dragging against his thigh. His eyes traveled from your beautiful tits and down to your core, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, the thick hair donning the area, coated in your slick, to your puffy folds, with your swollen clit peaking out from the flesh.

You continued to rock your hips against him, chasing the feeling of the stimulation to your swollen clit. Your slick was dripping out of you, coating Felix’s thighs. He didn’t seem to mind though as his hands had moved to your hips, gripping your waist to help you move. You licked your lips as you rode Felix’s thigh hard and fast, that tight feeling building up within you.

Felix smirked as he watched, your tits bouncing slightly with each thrust of your hips, his hands guiding you along. You looked at him with a hooded gaze, your arms tightening around his neck as you chased your high. You were close, your chest rapidly rising and falling as your breath picked up, as you let out steady moans. You were done for as Felix looked at you and squeezed your hips, his voice deep and sultry as he commanded you to let go.

“Cum for me love, that’s it…that’s my love.”

You let out a loud moan, as you released on him, thick white slick dripping from your pussy that coated his thigh. You continued to rock your hips as you rode out your high, little whimpers falling from your lips. As you finally came down, you looked at Felix properly, blush coating your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Don’t be shy love,” Felix cooed, his fingers brushing through your hair. “You did so good for me love. Now can you ride my cock hmm? It’ll feel good, so good.”

Felix knew you could take it, take him. You’ve done it before even if you don’t remember. He needs you and he will take you, his cock twitching at the thought of being within your warmth.

You listened to Felix, uncertainty crossing your face. You looked down where his cock lay, red, angry, and thick, pre-cum steadily leaking out. He was big and you weren’t sure if you could take him. However, you looked up into his eyes and saw how they were watching you, as if he could read your thoughts.

Shivers ran down your spine as you felt Felix rub soothing circles on your hips, almost as if to console you. Making up your mind, you reached down and grasped his cock, your hand barely able to wrap around his girth. You stroked his cock a few times, listening to the breathy moans falling from his lips.

You slightly lifted your hips and brought his cock to your pussy, slowly dragging his tip through your folds. Felix stared at you the whole time, watching as you pleasured yourself with his tip, his hands coming up to play with your nipples once more.

You mewled out as Felix caressed you, bringing his cock to your entrance. With a breath, you slowly sank down on his length, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate his length. You whined as you lifted your hips up again, before bringing them down, taking more and more of his cock, until your hips were flush to his.

“See love, knew you could do it. Now fuck yourself on my cock.”

Felix raised his eyebrow, waiting for you to move. Placing your hands on his chest, you braced yourself before you began to bounce on his cock, your slick easing the glide. The sound of skin hitting skin rang throughout your living room as Felix’s cock stretched you open, your walls sucking him back in as you made your way down.

You could barely think, drool dripping down your chin, fucked out from his cock. Your eyes could barely focus, seeing the shape of Felix in front of you. You barely noticed how he lustfully gazed at your tits, watching as they bounced with each thrust, or how his eyes traveled down to where he was splitting you open, the sight of your walls stretched over his cock causing his cock to twitch.

You were close, he could tell as you began to frantically gyrate your hips, seeking any kind of friction within your walls and clit. You clenched down on his cock over and over, your breath coming out in pants.

The all too familiar feeling built within you once more, the pressure building fast and quick. You rocked your hips, swiveled them, looking to reach your high, so you could feel that sweet release you needed so bad. Your breathing increased, faster and faster until you screamed, the coil within you snapped hard, your high spreading throughout your body causing your legs to tremble, as you squirted your release, the liquid coating Felix’s thighs, your belly and Felix’s.

Felix grinned, proud of you as he watched you ride out your high. The constant squeeze of your walls against his cock triggered his own high, ropes of thick, white cum settling within you, claiming you as his.

He quickly lifted you off of his lap and laid you down on your back, spreading your legs so he could see you. He brought a finger to your pussy, gathering some of his release mixed with yours and pushing it back into you.

You watched as he smiled and bent down between your legs, your mind still fuzzy after your intense orgasm. You squealed, your legs trying to move as you felt him lick at your core, his tongue probing your walls to gather both yours and his release. His nose brushed against your clit with each thrust, causing you to tremble in overstimulation.

Before you could protest, Felix sat up and leaned over you to press his lips against yours. You could taste yourself on his lips as he pushed his tongue within your mouth, both of your release coating your tongue. He kissed you softly, the intimate moment continuing over several minutes.

You wrapped your arms around Felix, your hands dragging down his back until you felt something, rough beneath your finger tips. You ran your fingers over the two holes in Felix’s skin, feeling him shiver at the motion. In your post orgasmic haze, wondered what caused the scars, as they felt pretty deep. Without warning, you felt something soft brush your hands causing you to yelp. Sprouting from the two holes were a set of wings, their color a dark shade of blue, almost like the midnight sky.

You broke the kiss and stared at the appendages, your eyes wide. You were curious but also scared, wondering what kind of being Felix truly was. Felix hovered over you, his eyes searching yours desperately. You finally knew his secret, well part of it at least. He was elated at the fact as now you can be fully his with this knowledge.

He has claimed you physically and now he needs to claim your body and soul. He knew it was now or never. He needed to finish the task of why he came to this mortal planet to begin with.

He brushed your hair to the side, watching your curious eyes as he did so. Leaning down, he began to whisper the seed that would take root within you.

Empty your mind, let it lay bare Allow me to whisper your fate there Let the seed of warmth grow And let your true love show

With a kiss to your neck, he murmured “you are mine.”

He leaned back to look at you, watching as you internally fought with yourself. He knew it would be a battle, your mind fighting with the deepest and darkest desires buried within you, as they tried to fight their way to the surface.

He would be here with you, every step of the way as you made your transition. His task is done, he has performed his duty as your angel, the years of watching and waiting finally baring fruit. He’d stay with you, watch over you, and once you have allowed your mind to succumb to him, he’ll take you with him. He’ll take you with him back to the cosmos where you can both be together for eternity as lovers.

After all, you are his first and only true love.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @seungfl0wer @velvetmoonlght

[sainzproductions]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 ⋆ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

THE OTHER WOMAN / SEQUEL !

where you acclimate to the current dating scene after eight years of being with carlos...

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and others

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↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

You felt like you had done a good job all by yourself. You took your sweet time getting used to being alone again, having spent the better part of the past decade accompanying carlos and living together with him.

As embarassing as it was to admit, there were days where you'd wake up abruptly as if hearing his footsteps, or the faint rumble of his voice lulling you to sleep. There were moments where you'd break down crying upon seeing an article of clothing belonging to carlos, or seeing pictures when you were still happily together.

It wasn't easy to forget an eight year relationship. You soon realized. He was all you've ever known and adored... You dreamt a life with the guy for crying out out loud!

You wanted all the permanent things, the domestic future, him.

But the reality was that you were different people who wanted starkly different things in life. Carlos was set on his career while you had the burden of being a woman. You didn't have forever to waste away, and you didn't want to spend it waiting for a future that could never be in the stars for you and him.

You had accepted it. It wasn't all tears, and tearful reminiscing anyways. Your life had picked up after a couple of weeks. It was a lie. You spent a month and a half being pathetic. But who was counting?

You were having the time of your life. Your singleness provided a way for you to realize new and old hobbies.

You finally went back to your hometown, despite your fears of facing your parents' knowing looks and getting an ill timed i told you so's from their ever skeptic way of seeing life. Especially your relationship with Carlos..

But your mother took one look at you; in your deshieveled and devastated form, wordlessly opening her arms and craddling your pathetic self as you wept about your broken heart.

You found peace in the tranquility of your childhood home. Reacquainting yourself with your horse, champion whom you had been neglecting— you realize belatedly. The help couldn't take the horses out that much, where you formerly took the stallion out for most of the day. You made sure to make up for lost time however.

You were also able to rekindle old friendships, quickly becoming fast friends once again as if no time had passed at all. You traipsed all over Madrid, enjoying the thrill of meeting new people, of learning new things... And how forward the current dating scene seemed to be in regards to matters concerning...

"Wait, wait." You press a hand towards his broad chest, breathing roughly. Your chest rose and fell with excitement as you tried to come down from how fast the things had quickly become heated between the two of you. "We're going a bit too fast, don't you think?" You whine under your breath, as his face came down to press open mouthed kisses on your neck, easily finding your most sensitive spot as he expertly manouvers your body, backing you up against the wall.

"Relax. We won't do anything you don't want." He says, softening his tone, "I'm not a hooligan." He tuts, pressing a feather like kiss on the side of your lips.

"Says the man who pulled me into a dark room to play tonsil tennis." You retort amusedly, stroking your fingers on his neck. You couldn't help but close your eyes at the sensation of his lips against your skin, his fingers making quick work of slipping under your skirt, and you hissed from the sensation of his cold rings against your thighs, "You're cold!"

"Warm me up then, love." He was evidently amused by your reactions and the way your cheeks flushed at his crude remark. He wiped away every other thought from your mind, as he kisses you wantonly. He made sure to hold your gaze as he pulls away, sinking down to his knees... and kissing your thighs softly. "Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. I couldn't think of anything else when you walked into the room. Nobody else mattered but you... you're bad for my business, darling."

You could hardly register anything else after that

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

The breakup came with the long forgotten territory of male attention. Sure, there were some bold and uncaring lads few and far between, but Carlos had quickly shut down every attempt with a swift glare and a possesive hand over you. You didn't mind. You only needed him and his attention and everyone else were merely annoying backnoise.

As it is, your breakup was made public through the urging of Carlos' management and his public relations team. You cooperated seamlessly despite being civil, to the point of rudeness, to their every demand.

How ironic was it that through his blatant act of wanting to separate himself from you and everything else that had to do with you; he made a declaration to the world that you were readily available.

Your dms were sure packed to the brim when you'd later had the energy to do anything asides from the basic tasks of taking care of yourself. You couldn't laugh nor cry upon seeing several of carlos' work acquaintances making their presence known in your dms. You even saw his former (and possibly current) teammates taking their shot.

You couldn't help but wonder for how long has he been... Non committal towards his best mates about your real score. They couldn't possibly muster up the courage had it been the true duration of your separation. Men aren't that proactive. They atleast had some base sense of loyalty.

Then again, it didn't take very long for him to be spotted with some model on his arm. He looked happy, invigorated... Annoyingly handsome. Fuck him and his perfect face. You wished you atleast threw a heel at him for being a dickwad.

Were you seeing other people out of spite or trying to prove yourself to him? You wouldn't exactly say so. You'd had an agreement with the well established, and good looking gentleman who had made you tremble and writhe under his tongue. He was incredibly lax and cool, and great company in every sense of the word. He made you laugh, he also made you cry just now.

And so while you made yourselves look presentable, you were first out the door while he waited a few minutes to make his entrance into the party again. You gratefully took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, wetting your parched throat as you looked around as normally as you could. Blending in with the fancy people in their cocktail dresses and designers.

You heard footsteps approaching after a few moments. Another man spotted him, and he grinned in recognition upon the sight of the ever famous....

"Sir Hamilton!"

[hitomisuzuya]

scaramouche x fem!reader. no smut. arguments. fluff. angst. two arguments in which scaramouche realizes he is in love.

i have been kicking around this idea for awhile, i am just gonna let my fingers do the typing. i don't expect this to hit very well, tbh

scaramouche is notorious for his temper. he is an experience to deal with, and it is not easy for anyone. most especially you, his assistant and secretary. he didn't want one, but he was advised by pierro and the captain that women are very capable for that type of job. that it might be good for him.

so now he was saddled with you. you are small, shorter than he is which was what he first noticed. he supposed you are a hard worker, kind of overachieving to do your best and do everything to the letter. if you messed up, you were quick to cry, which scaramouche loved.

at first.

he is currently in a stand off with you in his office. he is shooting you a glare that would make anyone drop dead and back down. but not you. you are determined to stand your ground.

"i don't need coffee, woman. what i need is competency, and some peace and quiet. and another pen. yet here you are, running your mouth and displaying the incompetency that i loathe," scaramouche snapped, barely even looking at the coffee you set on his desk.

he was stunned to see that you remembered how he likes his coffee. black with no sugar or cream.

"sir, please. you've been working so hard all day without any rest. if you won't rest, at least drink some coffee," your fretting was pathetic to him. he didn't need these things to sustain himself. "and in the meantime, i can find you a pen that won't explode. you probably squeezed the pen too hard," your smile was soft and he hated it.

"shut up, woman. leave. can't you take a hint?" he snarled, figuring that would finally make you flinch and cave.

nope.

instead, you grit your teeth. "i don't shut up, sir. i grow up," tough words for someone who threw the reports he asked (commanded) you organize for him like a child. finally, you turned and left his office, slamming the door behind you.

he swore it rattled through the entire hall. scaramouche's mouth was agape. nobody has talked to him like that before. as infuriating as it was, he thought you were pretty brave for a lowly human. and why did you look so cute when you are angry?

in the wake of all that, you still showed respect for him by calling him sir.

he stopped snapping at you for offering him coffee he didn't ask for after that.

this argument was over a cat of all things.

it was bad enough that his squad seemed to listen to you more than him. you'd found an injured black cat while out on a scouting mission. one that he glared out his tent the whole time watching for you to come back. where were you? this was a simple mission. what was taking so long? he'd hardly seen you all day and it was pissing him off.

when he started getting pissed about it, he didn't know.

there you came, black cat wrapped in your jacket and cradled carefully in your arms. "what took you so long? you are supposed to be my assistant. that dignifies staying close to me," he demanded, striding out of his tent.

you blinked at him, remaining quiet for a moment. "but you sent me out on the mission," you stated the obvious.

"that's not the point. and," he hissed, glaring at the bundle in your arms. "what is that?"

"a cat. i found him injured and abandoned. it's going to snow tonight, i refused to leave him to die," you replied, petting the cat and cooing to the animal as it showed signs of distress sensing scaramouche's unpleasant temperament.

scaramouche knew exactly what you were going to ask the moment you looked at him and opened your mouth. "no," he deadpanned, "go put it back where you found it. now," he crossed his arms. he saw his other subordinates shoot you apologetic looks.

"but-"

he cut you off. "no means no. the cat will just get in the way," his breath hitched in his throat as tears welled in your eyes.

you were quiet for a moment, and he thought he finally won.

nope.

"no," his subordinates suddenly looked very scared.

"what did you just tell me, woman?" he hissed lowly. "repeat yourself, i dare you."

"no," you said more firmly. "i refuse to abandon him and let him freeze to death. how would you like it if someone abandoned you when you needed it the most? that would be so so terrible. i refuse to put this kitty through that any more than he already was."

with that you turned and walked away back to your tent, cat on your arms and striding with a purpose.

scaramouche was stunned. not only had you just so boldly stood up to him, you'd effectively bitch slapped him in the face with words. what you said jarred him right to his core. he stared at your retreating back until you disappeared inside your tent.

your parting words hit home more than he liked to admit. why did you have to be so fucking smart all the time?

he seethed in his tent for many hours. you usually came by and checked on him, asking if he needed anything even if you were angry at him. but he saw hide nor hair of you.

and he couldn't stand it.

"where is my secretary?" he snarled, striding out of his tent and rounding in on the first subordinate he saw. he pointed to your tent.

why did you have your own tent, anyways? you are his assistant, damn it. you should be by his side with him in his tent. "come sit with me for awhile. and bring that infernal beast, if you want."

you look at him like he had two head. "wh-what?" he sighed at your response, raising an eyebrow. you are confused. scaramouche has never asked you to come sit and keep him company before. your heart fluttered like it always did whenever you were in his presence, never the less, you got up and cat in arms followed him back to his tent.

there was a long, companionable silence between the two of you. he noticed you didn't feel the need to start a conversation just to occupy silence. he really values that. "what happened to it?" he finally asked.

he hated he felt jealous of the cat curled up asleep and purring in your lap. "he is a cat, not a thing, scara," your eyes widened realizing you hadn't addressed him with the respect you always did. "i..i'm sorry," you stammered an apology.

sighing, scaramouche shook his head. "stop it. you don't have to call me sir when we are alone, at least. scara is...fine," he observed your relieved smile, looking away shyly as a blush he wished wasn't there dusted his cheeks.

"oh! by the way," you exclaimed, smiling more like a cat who just put her paw in the cookie jar. you unwrapped something from the sleeping cats collar and handed it to him. "you were looking for this, right? you mentioned pierro was suspicious of unrest in a smaller fatui faction. here is the documented proof. it was tied to the cats collar," the way you looked at him now, hoping for some form of approval, he hated to admit how cute you look.

scaramouche looked down at the paper and then back at you. you actually listened to him when he gave mission briefings. you singlehandedly accomplished what the rest of his squad couldn't do the entire week.

he put his hand on your head, stroking it through your hair. "impressive. you can keep i-" he started to say it in reference to the cat, but stopped when you raised an angry eyebrow at him, "him. the cat i mean," it was worth it to see you smile.

you keeping him company turned into a regular occurrence. which then led to you sleeping in and staying in his tent. love wasn't easy for scaramouche, but this was perfect way for it start.