#even with just single notes i find it hard to tell them apart unless its a G or C | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

viviennevermillion · 3 years ago

Note

Lol hello same anon for the relationship hcs for leona, jack and trey, and i just saw in ur masterlist youve already done trey so if its alright could i switch him for idia?

Relationship Headcanons

notes: sure! there you go anon! this is my first time writing for Idia shdjsjd

warnings: none

Your relationship with Idia started online. Well, rather he found out by chance that you play one of the games he likes or like one of his favorite movies / bands and he invited you to his nerdy fandom discord server online community originally just so you'd get the newest updates on whatever your shared passion was. But as you continued talking with the others and Idia in the chats, he started enjoying your presence.

One day when your connection was absolutely terrible, the newest installment of your favorite game / movie series got released and since Idia knew you went to NRC as well, he begrudgingly invited you over to consume it with him, since there was no way for you to do so until your internet was working again (and because Ortho said he wanted to meet you). While spending time with you, he realized just how much he liked you and how flustered he got whenever you smiled at him. He often asked himself whether there'd actually be a chance you two could fall in love and be together

You were the one who confessed first. Idia didn't dare to. But he happily reciprocated your confession when you finally told him, albeit while stuttering and fumbling with his hands awkwardly.

Oh boi let me tell you, he loved your first kiss. And all the kisses and cuddles after that. Idia has never been in a relationship before and I headcanon he's very sensitive to touch so in the first few days after getting together every single one of your kisses makes him melt. You'd place a kiss to his neck or his ear and he'd often squeeze your hand instinctively, blush and you swore you could see the tips of his hair turning red. In the beginning of your relationship he may have even forgotten to do his daily tasks for some of his games because he got too distracted by your affection.

Idia will never turn down your affections unless he's playing some important event or battle in one of his games. He does let you sit on his lap though usually, letting you watch him play and placing the occasional kiss to your neck when he's faced with a loading screen

Idias ways to express affection and to spend time with you aren't particularly varied. You two usually spend time in his room together, watching movies, playing games or cuddling. If you do go out, it's something you can do without any people around and you usually bring Ortho along. Idia's verbal affection doesn't go beyond telling you he loves you, that he finds you stunning, that he misses you or that he's glad to have such an amazing partner but once he opens up more to you, he tells you these relatively often. He doesn't really do well in expressing how he feels through words, so he relies on relatively standard compliments but he does mean all of them.

You two often stay up late and sometimes make a meal at night (usually something microwavable or any other food you'd just have to heat up) and Idia sleepily wraps his arms around your waist while you prepare the food and buries his head in your neck.

In turn, he's very grumpy in the morning when he has to wake up. He's not as hard to get out of bed as Leona but he's definitely crankier.

Humor is very present in your relationship. Lots of inside jokes and memes related to the media you consume. Or your time spent together in general. You know those couples who basically develop their own words for stuff and at some point start speaking in their own little language solely made out of inside jokes and hints only their partner will understand? That's you dating Idia. People will listen to you guys talk and have no idea what the hell you're referring to. Running gags can also drag on for years.

When you're apart because you have to go home for the holidays etc., you often spend a lot of hours in a voice chat together and deliberately stay in the call overnight when you sleep because it makes Idia feel closer to you. You'll sometimes wake up at home with your phone laying next to you, hearing Idia mumble some things in his sleep into the microphone.

We already know wolf beastmen expect to stay with their partner for a lifetime so Jack hopes you feel the same about him him and want to spend your future with him just as much as he does. He's one of the most loyal partners you could possibly get in all aspects and he loves you so so much.

His tail starts wagging everytime you approach him. Even before you started dating. That's one way you noticed he was into you.

Protective boyfriend. He'd always do his best to keep you out of harm's way. He'd fight for you, he'd bail you out of trouble with the teachers....but at the same time if he does think you did something wrong or need to improve something for your own sake, he's very honest and open about it, but he's patient and gentle with you.

After a while of being with you, Jack gets really good at picking up on signs that you need his support or aren't feeling well even before you tell him and he usually pulls you into his arms to hold you as long as you need him to or gets up to bring you whatever you need, whether it's food, water or a pillow.

Learns to cook specifically for you. He's so proud when you like the food he made and you can see his tail flicking when you smile at him.

Jack is a very supportive boyfriend. As long as you don't attempt to take advantage of this or shove your responsibilities onto his plate, he'll happily go out of his way to make your life a little easier. Also the type to always encourage you verbally and tells you to follow your dreams etc. (shounen protagonist style)

Doesn't mind PDA. He's very casual about it and happily holds your hand when going somewhere or gives you some appreciative kisses during the day, to remind you that he loves you.

Absolute king of verbally expressing his affection too. Once he fully gets over his initial tsundere-ish state, he'll tell you what he thinks about you. You could just be sitting in the library reading a textbook and you suddenly catch Jack looking at you from the side and telling you he never wants to lose you, pulling you in for a soft kiss.

He is very thoughtful when it comes to giving you gifts. If your birthday or Valentine's Day is coming up, he wants to make sure his gift is something genuinely meaningful that shows just how much he loves you unconditionally.

He is very understanding, flexible and reasonable too. Any typical couple things you don't want to participate in? Any specific things you need him to adapt to? Jack will be there to validate you and he happily adjusts to you when he can.

Daydreams about you a lot. You're his first thought when he wakes up in the morning. Sometimes his mind drifts off during class imagining how it'll be when you get to spend time together again. He's definitely too ahead of himself, thinking about spending his future with you after a couple months of being together, but he doesn't let you know that. The last thing he'd want to do is make you feel pressured.

In his third year he eventually asks you, since you will need to take on internships in your fourth year, whether you'd like to do them in the same area so you two could share a little flat together. Jack loves the idea of living with you and just going through your everyday domestic life together.

Jack loves to give you forehead kisses and firmly wrap his arms around you.

Leona is an aquired taste.

In all honesty I do think Leona would put in effort for you. The reason he's seemingly "lazy" is because he doesn't have anything that motivates him or anything to work towards. He's always felt like his fate has been set in stone when he couldn't have something, the last thing he wants is to lose you because of his own faults.

Leona doesn't fall in love easily but when he does, he sees you as his other half. His partner in crime. He loves deeply even though not much of that reaches the surface for a long time.

Leona is a very casual, somewhat passive lover. He doesn't openly initiate affection most of the time (aside from his usual sleepy cuddles) but he does reciprocate when you do.

Adores when you caress his ears and play with his hair. He'll purr quietly while laying in your lap or in your arms. His ears are very sensitive. They're only for you to touch.

Leona always makes sure you take enough breaks when working and are taking care of your health. He'll pick you up and carry you to bed if that's what's necessary for you to relax.

Lots of teasing and playful fighting. Leona makes sure you know he isn't serious though. He never wants you to feel like he doesn't care about you. He's felt like people didn't care about him all his life. So his teasing and seemingly annoyed remarks are usually accompanied by appreciative pecks to your lips or a kiss on your forehead.

Leona does take you out on dates if that's something you like. He loves sleeping and just spending the day in bed with you, but he doesn't want you to become dissatisfied with him or look back at your time together and have no memories that stand out. He prefers casual cinema dates or a slow walk through nature over fancy dinners any day though.

Leona likes to talk about all kinds of topics with you. Usually when people converse with him it's smalltalk or nagging him but he values to have someone who's just genuinely interested in his thoughts, ideas and opinions. No one's ever asked him much about these or considered him important enough to include his input so he appreciates just having someone who really listens to what he has to say. He'll talk about the ideas he'd have for his kingdom if he were able to be king a lot.

While Leona is hardly the lovey-dovey kind of boyfriend, he does have phases where he's very affectionate and attentive. It's usually when he's feeling down and realizes that no matter what, at least he has you by his side. He's genuinely grateful for that. And he never wants you to feel as unappreciated as he does. In those moments Leona might pull you close and repeatedly place kisses all over your face and whisper that he loves you, his ears twitching slightly and his tail curling around your waist.

Leona also has the potential to essentially be a walking satire show. If you're close to him you'll get to witness the entire spectrum of sarcastic and cynical commentary directed at everything that annoys or bores him. The more angry he is, the more creative he gets. You have heard Leona say things about the teachers or the school with a straight face that sometimes still make you snicker even months after.

Leona spoils you with gifts every now and then. He wants to show you there's still something he has to offer you despite being only the "loathed second prince". And because he's competitive and gets jealous easily. Even if no one else is interested in you, he still wants to make sure you only have eyes for him. So him getting gifts for you starts off as a sole means to make sure you won't look for someone who's able and willing to offer you more (when really Leona is all you want) but the second he sees how happy you are when you open it and how you smile, it's over for him. "Oh.....oh god they're cute....", his heart skips a beat but he'd never say that out loud.

In day to day life, Leona shows his love differently and more subtle than most people. It's in the way he casually goes "hmm" to affirm a question you asked him and squeezes your hand gently before proceeding with whatever he was doing. Or him putting a hand on your back or shoulder and nudging you in the right direction when you're going somewhere. Or giving you a simple pat on the head with a slight smile on his face when you excitedly tell him about something. He does so many little things that make everybody notice how much he enjoys just existing around you. You two don't have to do anything special or be overly affectionate for Leona to just feel like he's finally at home somewhere.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #idia shroud x reader #jack howl x reader #leona kingscholar #jack howl #idia shroud #twst leona #twst idia #twst jack #twisted wonderland leona #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland jack #twisted wonderland idia #twisted wonderland headcanons

2K notes · View notes

tupperlid · 2 years ago

Text

Tupperlid's OriginalShipping Headcanons Masterpost

I discovered while writing I think way too much about these idiots and their intricacies. 🍏🍎

Last Edit: 12/20/22

Green

Love Language: words of affirmation. Green can be insecure at times and masks it with anger and resentment, but he does get weak when you give him a compliment. At the time, he may blow it off, but he does appreciate all of them. I'm sure he keeps every single Christmas card he's ever gotten.

Emotionally Distant at Times; can love both quietly and loudly. However, his love comes out for very few people. Since his inward feelings and outward expression of those feelings can be jumbled and hard to read, most people don't bother picking apart his complex emotions. But, if you give him a chance, his loyal, caring side pokes its head out.

Reserved about Personal Life; is touchy about PDA due to anxiety, but is very proud of his boyfriend and their relationship. Though, Green can be the more possessive partner and will assert himself as needed.

Big Boyfriend Boastful Bragger; brags about himself and Red so much. So much. And, when you get him going, he and himself melt away and all he can talk about is Red and how proud he is. Green loves Red so, so much that on some days, he just will not shut up about him.

Very Assertive Communicator; will tell you the problem he has and how he's not okay with it. Might fumble a bit in communicating how he's feeling at that moment, but he will try to fix it as effectively as possible. He can accept how sometimes he can fall short as an emotional partner and owns it wholly. They still have their days; a relationship between an extremely communicative partner and a partially non-verbal neurodivergent partner can be a struggle, but at the end of the day, they can figure it out.

Treasures Red's Opinion; TREASURES. When Red will tell him something, he knows that it is most likely essential and will listen very actively. When Red says he doesn't like something, he will curb his behavior and try to have a conversation. When Red says he enjoys something, he takes note and tries to apply it to their partnership. Also, he secretly loves how Red corrects him on Pokémon facts. He finds himself overcome with pride at moments like that. He loves his boyfriend's dumb-ass Pokémon-fueled brain.

Horrible Texter; literally awful. Will forget to respond and ghost people. Unless he wants something, of course. Only will respond to Red's texts (just in case he's having a nonverbal moment) and if any other person's number pops up, his head will go "It's not Red" and never respond. Call him instead. Please.

He's a Loser Nerd; a reserved academics freak at heart, but sometimes some of his fun side shows. He likes to keep his education and personal life separate and even more displaced from that, his public life. When the press gets a fact out of Green about a funny college story it is like he has dropped lore of unforeseen proportions. It is akin to your father sharing Dad Lore.

Agitated Anxiety; gets angry when anxious. He can get frustrated when things don't go the way he wants. In embarrassing moments and seconds of weakness, he can get suddenly agitated and act out in an attempt to relieve his stress. This sometimes manifests as him putting up walls towards the people he cares for. If doing a 180 and acting like the event is preposterous in the first place, he can feel comfortable about himself. But, Red calls him out and gives him space to recuperate, and most of the time, that's all he needs.

Domestic Homebody; Green loves cooking, cleaning, and doing general household chores. Not only does he enjoy making things easy for Red, but it helps reduce his anxiety. When controlling physical space, he can control his headspace. Though, his guilty pleasure is the nights when Red cooks for him. It's usually a soup or pasta of some kind, but there's wholesome charm put into every bowl.

Rocky Relationship with Press; often journalists will try to have Green translate Red's signs or have him speak for Red, but he outright refuses. They should either "wait for Red to write what he wants to say down or they can lick my boots". Sometimes, journalists can label him as standoffish, but when interviews go well, a truly soft and gentle side to the Gym Leader can be seen. Red and Green's romantic relationship has been very speculated upon, and in these quiet moments with Green, how well they work together can be truly seen publicly. And sometimes, Green feels okay being in the spotlight if Red is there with him.

Red

Love Language: physical touch. Big sucker for cuddling with Green and being warm. He appreciates their size difference and finds it cute that Green is built so differently from him. A guilty pleasure of Red's is wrapping his arms around Green's waist and seeing how close his fingers can get to touch. Red allows Green his space but knows that if he tried to hold Green's hand, Green would comply happily and without question.

Autistic/Neurodivergent; Red's ASD presents mostly with social difficulty and sensory issues. He is in tune with these symptoms and can recognize them, but communicating the nuance and roadblocks he faces proves quite challenging as Red is both a non-verbal and verbal communicator. With his close circle, usually, these barriers present very little issue; however, publically, Red is a victim of near-constant ableism. Because of this, Red is rarely seen accepting an interview and mostly keeps his public image up with photoshoots instead. The frustration and stress of ignorance are better left ignored.

Emotionally In-Tune; knows what he wants, just not how to get it. Somedays, Red finds himself reading gossip articles like Women's Health to learn the "Best Ways to Show Someone You Love Them", ever stuck on actions instead of emotions. Red and Green's whole courting process was a mess from start to finish and eventually, they just had to make out and resolve to be boyfriends.

Incredible Gift Giver; he is listening when you tell him what you want. He takes mental notes of what you're missing and what he thinks you need. He knows. The gifts will always be incredibly sentimental with a novella of a card attached. Trust him with Christmas gift ideas because he has an entire list already.

He Always is Static-Charged; DON'T KISS HIM IF YOU'RE NOT READY FOR A SHOCK. Red has shared more than enough jolts with people so just take a breather before subjecting yourself to the will of Pikachu's gifted electric current. Personally, Red thinks it's Pikachu's way of showing affection to everyone Red interacts with. Green doesn't think as fondly of it.

Sucker for Pet Names; he enjoys them all, both feminine and masculine. Red loves being called anything affectionate no matter the gender assignment of the word. One time, Green accidentally referred to Red as his girlfriend and the resulting embarrassing teasing match that ensued was one for the books.

Easily Frustrated; as the golden child, Red was conditioned into believing he should be able to do everything. So, when he falls short, Red becomes upset with himself and apathetic. If dinner doesn't turn out the way he wants when he cooks or someone isn't responding in a way that's easy to understand, Red becomes consumed with the minor issue. Usually with big changes, Red handles himself well, but the minor inconveniences and tedious tasks grate him down to a stub. At these moments, he needs to be reminded to take a moment for himself, let go and accept help.

Loves Quietly; Red's affection is gentle and whispered. If one wasn't paying attention, his soft touches and words could be considered fleeting, but to Red every movement is meaningful. Green's gotten particularly sensitive in noticing all of the nuance-- a possessive hand on his hip, the affirming intertwining of pinkies, the all-consuming hugs. Every movement and expression means something as if Red has his own physical language.

Weighted Blanket Lover; Green's role in the relationship is to be a weighted blanket for Red. When laying in bed, Red will pick Green up and have the ladder lay on him to his heart's content. Eventually, this translated to Green balancing a book in between Red's tits and reading while his boyfriend takes a long nap. Red would spend all day like that, but unfortunately, Green forces him up out of bed to go be functional.

Tropes

Field Research / Academic Research

Big Spoon / Little Spoon

Gentle Giant / Vicious Little Guy

Cooking / Laundry

Lactose Intolerant / Everything Intolerant

Coffee / Hot Chocolate

Heavy Sleeper / Light Sleeper

Always Cold / Unreasonably Hot

#originalshipping #reguri #pokemon #namelessshipping #blue oak #trainer red #trainer green #ookido green #sammy writing tag #masterpost #headcanon #literally went insane for these idiots #to be updated

79 notes · View notes

literallykenmaandshoyo · 3 years ago

Note

Hello kenma! Could you please make a fanfic about how the reader commits suicide and swaggersouls reacts to it? they are together etc. of course you don't have to. I understand 100% that this topic may be very inappropriate for you. Also have a good day

Leaving You Behind

Swaggersouls x gender neutral!reader Requested by: Anon Genre: Angst Proofread: Nope Music: c!Wilbur head over heals for c!Quackity // TNT DUO inspired playlists Warnings: Suicide, coping with a lost one, talk of self-harm Summary: You've been dealing with things on your own for a while now. Things have been getting rougher and rougher and you can't bring yourself to bear the pain anymore. Sadly, that means leaving your favorite person behind. Author's note: This one is super sad, y'all. I'm not gonna lie, while I like this idea, I don't have a real story for it. This is gonna be headcanons of just pure emotion. I'm sorry if they're a bit short. -Mod Kenma

Nobody knew you were dealing with such dark demons. You did a good job of hiding them. You pretended like everything was fine and everyone believed you.

So when you passed, it was a shock. Swagger took it the worst. He was horrified and felt incredibly guilty for not noticing or asking sooner.

Of course, it's not his fault. How was he supposed to know? You were good at keeping things under wraps.

When he got your suicide note, he broke down. He couldn't bring himself to read it. It felt like his entire world was falling apart. You're his entire world and he can't bear to do any of this alone.

The Misfits are right there next to him, trying to help as much as possible. It's hard on them too, you were their friend.

It's very hard to find some sort of normalcy in all of this. You were always there. You would be sitting on Swagger's lap or doing something stupid with Mason. You not being there felt off like the world shifted and wasn't able to return to its normal axis.

Life didn't seem fair, especially at that moment. It was hard for Swagger to do basic things without having a breakdown. You two were always with one another (unless he was streaming). Everything was done with the two of you and now Swagger can't help but feel lost.

The funeral was, to say the least, a mess. Swagger and the Misfits were sobbing their eyes out with the rest of your family. It was a beautiful event but god, Swagger was a mess. He was one to talk and it was a little rough around the edges. He would sniff and break some sentences with a small sob. It's heartbreaking.

Swagger feels incredibly guilty. He feels like it's somehow his fault. Like he should have been a better boyfriend. Even if there was no way for him to help, he still feels like he should have.

I don't think he'll ever move on. Swagger feels like you were the one, his soulmate. You're his one true love. He was supposed to grow old with you and misses you every single day.

He visits your grave a lot. Sometimes he'll have small picnics there and others he'll just sit. He talks to you. He'll tell you about his day or what your friends are doing. He'll go on and on until the sun goes down and he has to leave.

You were his everything and there isn't a day that goes by where he doesn't think about you. You're on his mind 24/7 and nothing will change that.

#swaggersouls x reader #swagger souls x reader #swaggersouls x gender neutral reader #swagger souls x gender neutral reader #x reader #x gender neutral reader #x reader angst #x gender neutral reader angst #fanfiction #fanfiction angst

119 notes · View notes

ev-pierce-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin. He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter solider smut #definitely not canon #i refuse to believe steve went back in time for some 1940s kitty kat and left his best friend behind #tony and nat are alive bc they are the only truly valuable characters #sebastian stan #also youre the daughter of agent hill #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #wEiNeR sOlDiEr

535 notes · View notes

atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years ago

Text

Broken trust, pt.5

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four

Summary: Meeting at the fold, Aleksander has a choice to make and this time, his anger threatens his control.

Warnings: angst (my apologies), fluff sprinkled on top, indicating smut

a/n - This one is the last one before the finale, I’m sure this time.

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

Darkness stood before her, utterly filled with terrors spoken of in every tale in Ravka. Y/N stared at the fold from a distance, remembering the first time she had seen it.

It unnerved her in the past, the unknown playing with her imagination to fashion something much worse than reality. She was no fool, Y/N understood the gravity of what she wanted to execute. This fold had taken countless lives since its creation – her parents as well.

Exhaling loudly, she placed a hand over her chest as she closed her eyes. Whatever possessed Aleksander to create the fold couldn’t excuse the lives lost or the orphaned children who grew up the same way she did.

“Are you sure?” Mal’s voice is heavy, nearly pleading for her to give up her plan. She glances at him, not with uncertainty but with unwavering determination.

“I have to do this. You know this.”

Reaching for her hand, Mal’s fingers slip across her open palm, intertwining with her own. “It’s not too late to change your mind. This burden doesn’t have to be yours.”

A heavy sigh passes her lips, but it does nothing to relieve the true weight inside her chest. “I will never be free of it if we leave now.”

“Of him, you mean?” Mal frowns, his lips pressing in a thin line she wished she could turn into a smile. “You’ll never be free of him.”

“You could have been on that ship”, she reminds him, gently stroking his cheek. “If I wasn’t in that tent and I didn’t meet him, you’d have been on that ship with no survivors.”

Looking up at the sky, he sighs, “It would be better.” His eyes meet the surprise in hers, “I wouldn’t be sending you off into the darkness without any control over what will happen.”

“I’ll come back”, Y/N musses. “I always do”, she smiles softly, sniffling.

“You better!”

Slapping Mal’s arm, Y/N frowns, “I’m kind of insulted how little faith you have in me!”

Fingers running down her spine had caused shivers run throughout Y/N’s body. She chuckles, hiding her face in the crook of Aleksander’s neck.

“Don’t hide from me”, Aleksander complains. Trying to untangle himself in order to take control once more, his throaty chuckle furthers her need to cling to him.

Her arms wrap around him, pulling him closer as if he’s the air she needs to breathe. “I used to daydream about us.” Her small voice freezes him, his lips twitching with her confession.

“In what manner?”

Rolling to her side, Y/N glances at him only to shake her head. “It’s silly.”

Cupping her cheek, Aleksander leans in, close enough for their noses to touch. “Tell me.”

“I imagined how it would feel like to wake up and see your hair disheveled or how your lips would feel against mine”, her eyes flicker to his lips, causing her to lick her own. “Just about how I’d fall so hopelessly in love with you.”

“So you’re in love with me”, Aleksander raises an eyebrow, teasing her.

Wide eyed, Y/N blushed deeply with his heavy gaze upon her. He never blinks, never stammers or stumbles – Aleksander is a work of art and she couldn’t believe she blurted her feelings out for such perfection in a foolish daydream ramble.

“I wanted to tell you I love you without making a fool of myself, but that didn’t work”, she huffs, turning on her back. Staring at the ceiling, she wished she could hide now. A man as serious as Aleksander must find her so immature after her display of childish behavior, but she couldn’t face him.

Instead, he propped himself up on his elbow, his face obscuring her view of the ceiling. “I find it adorable”, he whispers almost wistfully and Y/N couldn’t understand why.

What is he longing for when she’s right there, under him? She didn’t miss the lack of a love proclamation on his behalf, but she could wait a while longer to hear him say it. After all, she’s the one he’s meant to be with.

“So you won’t run for the hills, screaming?” She kinked her eyebrows, beaming at his silent determination.

“Takes far more to frighten me, Sunshine. I’ll always be there for you.” He leans in, pecking her forehead. “For you”, he adds as his body presses her into the mattress. Staring intently in her eyes, his knee pushed her thighs apart. Resting his forehead on hers, Aleksander’s hand moved up her forearm until his fingers intertwined with hers, holding her hand tightly in his as he pushed inside her.

A moan escapes her, eyes closing as he whispers into her parted lips, “And inside you.”

Aleksander never wanted to leave his Sunshine. He wanted to spend the rest of eternity with her unraveling under him each and every night. He still loves her more than anyone else could. All he could think about is how it might need an eternity for him to make things right with her, because in time he believed she’ll see reason and understand he’s right.

But she fell in love with him as he is, temper and wicked plans and horrible notions of what love is. She knew that about him before she ever learned of who he is. She looked past everything he had done, Aleksander couldn’t figure out what’s so different about this.

“General”, Ivan stops at the entrance of his tent, out of breath. “Someone is spotted at the outskirts of the fold. The men believe they mean to enter the darkness on their own.”

Standing, Aleksander straightens his back. His eyes narrow and his jaw unclenches long enough for him to speak, “Who is it?”

“A woman and a man”, Ivan responds, swallowing thickly as he takes note of the general’s flared nostrils.

Forming fists, Aleksander lifts his chin. Despite the end of their relationship, Aleksander didn’t forget Y/N’s promise. He knew she’s brave, far braver than any Grisha he’d ever met. Aside from him, that is.

His Sunshine had a persisting quality about her, one he used to appreciate before. She would defy the devil himself if he stood in her way and it used to bring a smile to Aleksander’s lips. This time around, he and the fold are her devil.

“STOP THEM”, he orders. “She had never been in the fold before!”

His booming voice surprised even him, but it terrified Ivan who nodded and ran out as if he would cut him in half right then and there. To make matters worse, Aleksander wasn’t sure he wouldn’t.

Looking at his hands, he could have sworn he caught a tremble in a usually steady right hand. “What are you planning, Y/N?”

Fingers grazing Y/N’s, Aleksander felt a tingle run up his arm and to his heart. He always felt like shadows clouded any chance for happiness. Somehow, through it all, he saw where the shadow ends and there she stood. He trusted in her light, the one he could see even when she didn’t conjure it to the surface. She was Sunshine incarnated, his saving grace.

“I’ll never be strong enough”, she croaks, turning away from Aleksander.

With a frown etched on her forehead, Y/N swallowed thickly. She didn’t expect Aleksander to slide a finger under her chin, tipping her face up to his. He smiles, the gesture lighting up his eyes, enough to lock her breath in her throat.

She wondered how many were as lucky as she is to see those dark skies hang stars to lead them out of a storm.

She hoped none did. Selfishly, she hoped to be the only one who knows how gentle, how kind the Darkling can be.

“You make me proud, you know that?” His words are honey, his lips set in a genuine grin as he brushes his nose against hers. “You are the strongest person I know.”

Biting her lower lip, she looks into his eyes briefly, but long enough to know he won’t judge her.

“Could you hold my hand?”

He had all the understanding she sought in his dark hues, a tenderness she always prayed to find in someone. There was no doubt in her mind she could trust Aleksander.

As his hand embraces her smaller one, she can’t help but look up at him with a look he wasn’t used to.

She looked at him with hope, with expectations of something he wasn’t sure he’d be able to rise to, but he was determined to try.

“Can you tell me more about you?” It felt vastly important to see the change in every line of his handsome face as he remembered the past and she didn’t want to miss a single word, expression or look he could bestow upon her. He felt more important to her than anyone and this wasn’t just a story, it was his story.

If he were honest with her then, Y/N knew she’d have forgiven him. There was no shadow of doubt about it as she stared at the fold mere inches before her. She could see what true darkness is and she never saw it in Aleksander. That’s when the guilt appears, taunting her. If she stayed with him, could she have managed to change his mind about it all without ever spending a day without him? She still missed him far too much, more than she should.

“Stop!”

Looking over her shoulder, she flashes an uncertain smile that disappears just as quickly it came to be, fading to give way for her tear-filled eyes to glisten like stars in the moonlight. She should be angry, she should be running away from him, yet the sight of Aleksander riding toward her only rooted her.

“You can’t stop me”, she remarked, her eyes brimming with tears as he frowned, his forehead forming a few worry lines she’d normally tease him about because their age difference is so vast despite him looking so young, but she reveled in knowing he actually cares enough to worry about her.

Unless it wasn’t worry for her, rather the fold.

“You can’t possibly do this, Y/N! Even if I wanted to help you destroy the fold, I’d never send you in so soon with so few preparations!” He smiles, but the gesture is empty, it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’ll fail.”

"If you really thought I couldn't do this, you wouldn't be trying so hard to stop me", she snapped, "to distract me!"

For one instant, she feared she’d gone too far. There was something, a flash in his eyes, an expression that flitted over his face that locked her breath in her throat. But then he relaxed, not completely, but much of his frightening tension - battle-ready tension - seemed to flow out of him.

"I'm trying to stop you because you're going to kill yourself trying", he replied. "You begged me to let you go and I did, but look at you now.” His frown deepens, “You’re standing at the edge of certain doom and you have no one to guide you."

“So guide me!” Lifting her chin, she struggled to draw breath and forced herself to shrug as she looked away. “You said you'd always be there for me, with me”, she pauses as she remembers he also promised to be inside her. And he was right, he’s inside her, just not in a pleasurable way. He courses through her veins like a disease, an infection she can’t eradicate. ”So how did this happen? Why weren't you here?”

She wanted him to say something – anything. She wanted him to fight for her, to say he couldn’t imagine life without her and to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness which she’d give…even after everything, she’d give him the forgiveness and love he seeks.

The way her tears fell had grabbed onto his heart and squeezed it tight, those drops of salt filled with emotion had reached him too, tearing through him unforgivably.

“If you go in there, I’ll have no choice but to hurt you.” His voice is shaky, his resolution weaker than the words he’s using. “Don’t put me in this position.”

“So you really think I can’t read you? That I don’t know when you’re lying to me?” A meek smile appears on her dry lips, “Didn’t you promise me you’d never lie to me again? Never to hurt me?”

“Y/N”, Aleksander raises his voice as a warning, yet her smile refuses to falter as her eyes hold his gaze captive.

Her lips part, her mind screaming with every step she takes backwards toward the fold, yet she never felt more at peace. She didn’t know what is stronger – her need to run and save her heart from heartbreak by staying in his arms forever, or her determination to destroy the fold. Yet with every step, she’s more convinced that both those needs are one of the same.

“Don’t”, he holds out his hand once she turns away from him, a step away from the fold he created.

Looking over her shoulder, she knew there was no choice at all. The need to save herself from heartbreak and the need to destroy the fold both require her to save Aleksander from himself.

Pushing his hair back, he dismounted, taking a few steps closer to her.

“Come on, love. Draw your invisible swords. Stop me”, she challenged, seeing the anger she evoked once his shadows began pouring from around him.

He ignored her words as he advanced, his dark eyes growing darker. He bent over her, took her defiant chin in his hand. She tried to pull away but he held her fast. He kissed her, roughly at first but then his grip and kiss became gentle, deep – a proper lover’s kiss.

Y/N felt herself drifting. The pleasure of his hand on her cheek, his kiss, it weakened her resolve. He pulled away from her and looked deep into her eyes, the warm and glowing fire behind them setting his own light ablaze. All thoughts of hatred were gone from them, yet his darkness surrounded them slowly.

Narrowing her eyes, Y/N stumbles back. “No. No”; she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her lips quivering. “You can’t just kiss me and make it alright.”

“You’re my weakness”, Aleksander admits, “the one thing I lack power against. Whether it’s loving you when you’re near and driving me absolutely mad or feeding your memory after you were gone. Letting you go was the hardest thing I've ever had to do.” He narrows his eyes at her with a simmering anger burning in them, “It’s just not in me to do nothing and let you slip away again.”

Scoffing, Y/N stands her ground, “We could have made it work. If you loved me, you'd have fought for me. You'd have listened to me and abandoned the foolish notion of power you seek. But you didn't, which means I loved you more than you loved me.”

"I FOUGHT FOR YOU! You didn't let me win. What was I supposed to do, huh? Force your hand and drag you to Little palace by the hair?” Gripping her arm, Aleksander pulled her closer, her hand resting on his chest with her palm open toward his heart. She’s not a heartrender, but her touch does possess the ability to make his heart explode.

“Should I have taken you by the throat until you submitted?” He speaks lowly, his voice darker than she had ever heard it before. “Did you expect I'd want to see your hatred for me every single day if I made you stay? Tell me, WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"

Swallowing thickly, she was rendered speechless. She didn’t know what to say without provoking him further. A part of her wondered if she should fear him, if he would kill her if it came to it.

“I fucking need you more than I need to breathe.” He says through gritted teeth only to release her from his bruising grip. If she was anyone else, she’d be a corpse by now. He knew it, but so did his people. Soon enough, they’ll lose respect for him. People will stop fearing him if he keeps allowing her to defy him.

"You make them all think you're a heartless murderer, but you're not. I know you're better than that." Her voice is raspy and devastatingly painful. Y/N takes a few steps back, her eyes no longer holding back tears as they spill down her cheeks.

His heart is desperately flailing inside his chest as her grief overcomes her features and he can’t touch her again, he can’t make it go away. Time and time again, he’s the cause instead of being her cure.

In her pain she sees him as the bad guy, yet in truth he’s drowning in a sea of uncried tears too.

When you hurt a woman you love, most of them can’t even look at you, not even turn to you. But what does a man do when the woman he hurt, the woman he loves most in the world, stares right into his soul as he shatters her completely?

What can a man do when her teary eyes hold his with such bravery, such complexity as she crumbles and he has to bear witness? When he’s the perpetrator and sole witness of her fears and sorrow?

There isn’t a single thing in this world that breaks like a heart does, Aleksander knew that now for in this silent exchange between their souls, the silence has never been so deafening.

"But I am a murderer." His jaw clenches as he raises his chin, “If you take another step, I will prove it to you.”

Eyes narrowing, Y/N nods to herself. Averting her gaze, she pursed her lips before turning around so quickly Aleksander didn’t have time to react.

She held her breath once she entered the fold, moving left on instinct.

Covering her mouth, she looks up at the thundering clouds that seem to be the only light in the fold. Merely seconds after she moved, a knife like substance crossed into the fold, slicing the air where she once stood and a gasp escaped her.

She looks back, finding no trace of Aleksander, but she wasn’t a fool – that was meant to be his gift to her for defying him.

Swallowing thickly, she shakes her head at the devastating thought. Is he past saving? Would he truly kill her?

Part 6/finale

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #shadow and bone #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #aleksander x reader

466 notes · View notes

inkyblinders · 4 years ago

Text

Dancing with the Devil

Pairing: Luca Changretta X Reader

Author’s note: So excited to share my first fic on this blog! I’m still trying to figure out the ins and outs of Tumblr as it’s been a hot minute since I’ve last used it, but if you like my writing please repost and follow for more :)

The story (part one of many, hopefully) is set in early Season 4 and is in second-person, but you’re also a character with a name.

And in case you can’t tell...I think Luca Changretta is criminally underrated.

Warnings: Some mild smut.

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

There is a stranger in the Garrison tonight.

He isn’t a shipyard laborer, neither tired nor grimy from the perpetual muck that belongs to Small Heath. In fact, he is more polished and well-dressed than anyone you’ve ever seen, except for perhaps the Shelby brothers who frequent the Garrison.

But this man is no Peaky Blinder.

He leisurely surveys the customers in the pub, eyes obscured by a fedora that slants on his head. An unlit cigarette hangs between thin lips. It’s a halfhearted attempt to blend in, as if he’s doing this as a courtesy but cares not in the slightest if he rouses suspicion.

You are used to breaking up bar fights and mopping up the bloody aftermath, but this man makes you more uneasy than any roughhousing drunkard you’ve dealt with. He is too quiet, his eyes too sly.

“This must be the trouble Tommy was expecting,” you think to yourself.

When he catches your gaze from behind the bar, a hawk-like smile cuts across his face. He winks then, and you flush even as something dangerous spikes in your throat. The whiskey you hold in your hands is just like his. Another prop, another facade.

“Anything else for you then, sir?”

He looks up from beneath the brim of his hat. His face is slyly handsome, with sharp cheekbones and a striking nose you crave to run down lightly with your fingers. Now you understand why he tries to keep himself hidden.

Here is a face that, once seen, would not be soon forgotten.

A tilt of his head, a voice as like raw silk as you shiver.

“Your daddy owns this place?”

So he’s not from Birmingham, after all. Every man within a fifty-mile radius knows who owns the Garrison. They might have never met the man, but they certainly know the name of his younger brother.

“No sir, he doesn’t.” Your voice is carefully polite but clipped, praying it doesn’t betray the pounding of your heart as you watch him take off his hat and run a hand through dark, slicked-back hair. You’ve seen Tommy talk like this with men he mistrusts, and he mistrusts a lot of men. No matter what, you are not volunteering any more information than necessary.

He waits for you to say more, and his smile doesn’t falter when you remain silent. “Well then, signorita, will you tell me who does?”

The Italian. So it is him.

Fuck.

“The Garrison is owned by...a family from these parts. Do you have business with them,” You can’t help but add impulsively, “Signore?”

His dark eyes widen with pleasure at your flippant remark in his own language. He is playing a game, and you are playing along with him.

“What business would I have with Gypsy fucks like them?” He leans forward, “But sweetheart, you on the other hand...”

Working for the Shelbys means minding the pub when Arthur’s gone, and spying for Tommy when he needs intel on whoever he’s feuding with at the time. It’s more serious than simply turning the other cheek when there’s a cutting in the streets. But you are not prepared to face an enemy alone.

Even if he is as charming as the devil.

Even if he wants you, and you want him back.

For the millionth time, you silently curse Tommy for forbidding you from having a gun, a knife, anything to protect yourself while in the pub. You had asked him about it one night, afterwards, and he only replied, “It’s bad for business if a girl like you gets caught with a weapon she can’t handle.”

“Then teach me,” You had retorted, balling up his trousers and chucking it at his head, “You think you can protect me. But what about when you’re gone?”

Tommy had looked up from buttoning his shirt then, his gaze steely and blue. “I have eyes in all of Birmingham. And besides,” He smiled ruefully, “You’re never in danger unless I put you there myself.”

In the pub, the Italian watches your expression. And in a moment of madness, you almost take up his veiled flirtation.

But then there is Tommy. Tommy with his inscrutable blue gaze. Tommy with his whores. And now you are angry at yourself for thinking of him when he was probably fucking some other woman in Camden Town. For business, he would explain, avoiding your eyes.

“What business would you have with a barmaid like me?” A whisper of regret fills you as you turn to leave. You are halfway up the stairs that lead to your room above the pub when you hear a caress of a single word that turns your blood to ice.

“Isabel.”

The Italian is leaning against the banister, eyes drinking in your figure. And now he saunters up the steps. You scamper up the rest of them but he is quicker. In a flash he spins you around, his body snugly against you and the second-floor wall. An arm over your head, caging you with his tall frame.

The intoxicating scent of tobacco and roses fills the crevices between your bodies.

Your eyes flash dangerously as he bends down, daring him to force a kiss. But he only murmurs into the crook of your neck, “Where is Mr. Shelby tonight?”

You answer breathlessly into the shoulder of his freshly-pressed suit, “He could be at the betting shop. Could be with his wife at home. I don’t-- ”

“The other Mr. Shelby, Isabel.”

Maybe he already sent his men after Tommy. Maybe Tommy’s already dead in a ditch, in godforsaken Camden Town. Or maybe, just maybe, this man really doesn’t know where he is, and you are the only person who can tell him.

He has you good and compromised. No one can help you, so you must save yourself. Instincts kick in, your mind feverishly formulating a plan. It won’t be the first time you’ve done something like this, and on Tommy’s orders nonetheless.

Loose lips sink ships, and men are so pliant after a romp in the sheets. Mindful of your mission now, you angle to ask for his secrets, anything you could find out that gives Tommy an advantage.

Only this time, your heart actually catches as you gaze into the mafioso’s lethal eyes.

A pause then, wondering how much you should reveal, and you confess, “Tommy doesn’t tell anyone where he is until he’s already there.” It’s a half-truth—he told you.

“So he’s Tommy to you then?” The man is pleased with your slip of the tongue. You’ve told him a secret he already knows.

“You are his woman.” He caresses your face with the back of his hand, etched with ink. A cross. Rosary beads. And there, a black-palmed hand. Just like the ones he sent the Shelbys.

I want to see where his tattoos lead to.

“You are his woman,” he continues, and something dark and sweet fills his voice as he purrs, “And you are not afraid of me.”

“I’m not giving up Shelby secrets even if you seduce me,” You stifle a whimper as he wedges a leg between your skirts, and you think of nothing except the way you ache for him to come even closer, until there is nothing between you but skin on bare skin.

“Tommy has whores who might give him up for a pound or three. Although,” you smirk, “I won’t tell you where you’d find them, either.”

“Oh sweetheart, didn’t you hear me?” So close you can feel his heartbeat with your fingertips, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

A deathly promise.

“I’ve come for you.”

He slants his mouth, his lips pressing hotly to yours as you surrender to desire. The kiss is swift and hard. The two of you come together, again and again, like lightning and thunder. As he cradles your head with one hand, the other slips underneath your blouse to palm your breast. You arch against the wall. The onyx rings on his hand are cold, and they pucker your nipples as they bite your skin.

Somehow you find your fingers seeking him too. But it’s not enough to touch the exposed skin between the gaps of his buttoned shirt. You want more.

When you pull apart he is panting, lips apart and wet. His once slicked-back hair now mussed, you imagine yours is too. For the first time this evening, his arrogant face is a little shocked, as if the taste of you affected him more deeply than he expected. You unclench your fists from his shirt and slowly take his face into your hands. You draw a line down the bridge of his nose, feeling all its bumps and ridges.

You murmur huskily, “Why did you really come to Birmingham?”

He tilts his head expectantly, and you are lost in his devastating eyes as he replies.

“Pleasure.”

#luca changretta #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders smut

452 notes · View notes

spiked-tea-writing · 4 years ago

Text

and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

#sapnap x reader #sapnap #sapnapxreader #sapnap fluff #sapnap fanfic #sapnap fanfiction #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n

282 notes · View notes

barzzal · 4 years ago

Text

close to you

summary: there’s nothing more excruciating than to lose someone you’ve never imagined losing. but what happens when they’ve already left right before you can even acknowledge them leaving? mathew is yet to find out.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: falling out and break ups

↳ genre: angst.

↳ length: imagine; 1.3k

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: close to you by rihanna (listen to this it’s all that there is really)

note: unsolicited barzy angst fic because i was sad and listening to rihanna, (plus you guys know how much i love angst) this is totally unplanned and written in the past hour so im sorry if there’s sum typos bc i didn’t proofread this :<< hope u still like!! feedbacks are very much appreciated! <3

You were slipping away and he knew it.

Mathew’s mind was running wild. His thoughts were coming in one after another and no matter how hard he tried to shut it out of his head — there it was again.

The cyclical pattern of his seemingly endless misery.

The thought of losing you.

Days with you were spent either in total silence, eating lunch with the television on in the hopes of drowning out the numbing noise that was now in every corner of the home you have built with Mathew; or you know, the mandatory screaming match you indulge yourselves with even over the smallest of things.

Things only escalated the more you try to talk about it. Neither of you really knew how and when it started. And neither felt the need to say a word.

All that you and Mathew did was to watch your years crumble before your own eyes. Years that got shattered with each night spent in an ice cold bed, backs facing each other, not bothering to say a word.

“What happened to us?” his voice crisp and clear even when whispering.

You feel his gaze and you begin to resent yourself for staying up so late. You see him in the corner of your eye, patiently waiting — silently pleading that you’d look his way.

You didn’t.

Instead, you close the book you were reading and take your glasses off. You sigh just as you put it on the bedside table. Mat does nothing but watch you silently, all whilst ignoring his chest growing all the more heavy each time you push him away.

You turn to him, still not meeting his eyes before you turn your night light off. You answer with a meek reply, “I’m tired, Mat.”

“Y/N.” he calls you once but it seems like it’s been hundreds of times for him. He wanted nothing else but to reach out to you — to hold you. Maybe then he’d feel less insecure. Maybe then he’d feel less afraid of facing the fact that you’re slowly fading away farther off his reach.

He knows you heard him but he doesn’t get a reply. And you know he’d be grateful to take on crumbs you’d be willing enough to spare. However, just like the other times he’s tried, your mind numbing quietude was all he had to hold onto.

You try to drift away faster into sleep for you did not want to spend the night hearing him pick out on almost every meaningless thing you’ve done for the past couple of weeks. You were just tired. Insanely tired. And Mat had very little, perhaps almost nothing to do with it. You were lost.

“Do you still love me?” you hear a catch in his throat that instantly tugged strings in your chest.

You fall silent, finding it hard to voice the words Mat had wanted to hear.

Do you still love him?

You didn’t know.

“Baby, please talk to me.” he pleads the longer he basks in your silence. Silence that Mat knew well enough to mean just one thing.

“Please.”

Finally, as if it was the nearest he’s gotten to a win, he sees you shift, turning to face him.

To say the least, you weren’t sure of how you feel towards Mathew. Being with him through all these years have been good, yes — but days weren’t always sunshine. It wasn’t always a calming afternoon walk holding each other’s hands, swaying it in the air, whilst you listen to birds chirping beautifully all year ‘round. Being with Mat came with its own sacrifices. Ones you cannot point out no matter how hard you tried and ones that just made him so hard to love.

“I’m sorry.” you murmur. You avert his gaze, keeping your eyes low on the sheets you’ve once shared wrapped around your naked bodies in search of warmth in each other’s embrace.

You never left Mat’s eyes because leaving you was the last thing he wanted to do. He hesitates to take a few strands that went astray to your face just so he could tuck it behind your ears like he always does. When you lean closer, nudging him to do just that, he feels a kindling fire in his chest. An all too familiar feeling he has deeply missed.

His touch did not make you want to pull away nor did it burn you like it used to. A sad smile creeps up his lips once you finally take the leap and look in his eyes.

“I know you are,” he says, clearing his throat. “And it’s okay. I understand.”

Mat wanted to. He truly does. He wanted to be selfish and just think about his own good. Letting you go wasn’t something he pictured doing because he knows that you know it has never crossed his mind.

Mat wanted to do everything against what willed his heart. But he knew too that letting you keep him at bay just to spare his feelings would do more damage than it could fix and he just couldn’t afford having to lose you twice. He could barely walk through this conversation now. Therefore he’s certainly sure he wouldn’t be able to handle losing you more than once.

“I think I need to figure out some things on my own.” you tell him earnestly. A thing that you’ve wanted to let out ever since coming home to Mathew felt more work than it’s worth.

“Are you gonna be gone for long?” he asks, voice thick and impending to break at any moment.

“I don’t know.” you answer with candor, an apologetic tone masking your words.

Nonetheless, no matter how much you did not want to spend the night breaking Mathew’s heart, he lets you rip one final bandage — exposing a long overdue wound that was without a doubt far from healing, “I won’t really know unless I try, right?”

“Okay.” he smiles, eyes softer than it ever was.

“I’ll be exactly where you left me.”

The night grows deeper as the two of you sink in what seems to be the hardest falling-out you’ve yet to go through. A break up that would definitely stick around Mathew’s end for he has never loved someone as much as he loved you. Perhaps, even more to put himself in the most selfless position he would willingly let himself into.

“What do we do now?” you ask, your voice low and on the brink of letting out a thick sob.

Mat takes your hand and entwines it with his. He holds you tight. He lets his forehead rest on yours, breathing out the pain that’s successfully wrenched his heart in seconds.

He pulls himself closer to you — pouring all he has left to give. Slowly, as he finally let himself pull away, he says, “We sleep.”

No matter how much you wanted to say your piece, you just could not find the words that fit. And so, you do the sanest thing you could give him, leaning closer to every bit of his touch as if the clock had only started ticking.

You see Mathew’s eyes glisten from the moonlight shining from across the room. If only you knew how bad you’re going to miss it. If only you’d appreciated it while you had the chance. If only you knew that the last thing Mat wanted was to see you right before he closed his eyes.

“Good night, y/n.” he says, still holding your hand close to his chest.

God, if you had only known those eyes will be gone the moment you open yours, you would’ve held onto his hand a bit longer. Long enough before he emptied his closet the morning after. Long enough before he had the chance to wipe out every single trace he’s left your apartment. Perhaps even long enough for you to change your mind.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal angst #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #barzzal imagines #letters to barzy

195 notes · View notes

remedialpotions · 4 years ago

Text

Off The Train

Thanks to @mertronus for tagging me in the HPRomione Discord Popcorn game thingy! The prompt she gave me was: "I can finally see you."

I'm tagging @acnelli with the prompt: "You can't just keep pretending things are fine!"

***

”I can’t wait until you get off that train,” says Ron, his voice low and lazy with fatigue, “and I can finally see you.”

Hermione shifts in her bed so she’s lying on her side, mirror held out before her. This way, she can pretend - if she squints a bit, and ignores the crimson hangings of her four-poster bed - that he’s lying next to her, and not hundreds of miles away in London.

“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” Hermione, too, keeps her voice quiet. It won’t do, in her final days as Head Girl, to be waking her dormmates. “You’re looking at me right now.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same. I can see you, but I can’t touch you, or...” The corner of Ron’s mouth twitches up into a crooked smile. “Or do anything else for that matter.”

“Right. Well,” she says, trying to infuse positivity into her voice, despite the weeks since the Easter holidays dragging into what felt like months and years, despite missing him so much that it’s like a heavy fog surrounding her. “It’s only a couple more days, right?”

“Can’t it be now?” Ron looks like he’s reclined in bed too now, his fiery hair stark against the deep navy of his sheets. “Just get to Hogsmeade, then you can Apparate-“

“You know full well that I cannot,” she replies briskly, even though it’s tempting, really tempting. “It’s-“

“-behavior unbecoming of a Head Girl,” Ron finishes her sentence. “I know. I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too.”

“I love you,” he adds after a moment’s silence, before his eyes widen with inspiration. “Oh, I’ve got it. What if I Apparate to Hogsmeade, and then walk to the castle - I bet Hagrid would let me through the gates-“

“It’s only two days, Ron.”

He sighs. “Fine.”

“And I love you too.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

•••

Pigwidgeon is the last owl to fly into the Great Hall, his little wings beating wildly to keep him aloft. With a scrap of parchment clutched in his tiny talons, he struggles over to the Gryffindor table before somersaulting down into Hermione’s lap.

Hermione’s heart sinks, and not just at the sight of the exhausted little bird currently burrowing into the crook of her elbow. Their two-way mirrors mean they don’t usually have to resort to writing letters. Not unless...

Hermione, the parchment reads when she unfolds it. Got called on an emergency mission. I’m not allowed to tell you where or why or even how long but I’m hoping it won’t take too long. I’m still going to be there at King’s Cross, because I’m dying to see you and I can’t wait until all this is over and we can just be together. Anyway, I love you and try not to worry too much. I promise to do my best not to die.

Ron

“Oh, good,” comes Ginny’s voice from beside her, and Hermione turns to see her peering intently at the parchment. “He’s promised not to die, that’s a relief-“

“He’ll be there,” interrupts Hermione, tucking the note in the pocket of her robes before Ginny can further infringe upon her privacy. “If he thinks it’ll only take a day, then I believe him.”

Ginny blinks. “I never said he wouldn’t be.” Plucking Pigwidgeon from Hermione’s lap, she offers him water from her goblet. “I’m sure he knows what he’s talking about.”

“It’s probably just a quick day trip,” Hermione rationalizes, eyes focused hard on Pigwidgeon as he drinks so she doesn’t have to see the sympathy she knows is etched on Ginny’s face, “and he just wanted me to know in case - well-”

“In case he dies?”

Ginny’s attempt at a joke falls flat.

“Well, just in case, you know, something were to - to happen,” Hermione stammers, “and anyway, it’s just good for me to know - I like to know what he’s up to - not in a controlling way or anything, just-”

“Of course,” Ginny interjects bracingly. “I’m sure he just wanted you to know, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll be there.”

Hermione picks up her mug of tea and holds it close to her face so the steam washes over her. She knows what they’re both thinking but are unwilling to say: that in the year Ron and Harry have been Aurors, neither has had a mission run shorter than a week.

•••

And so Hermione sits with Ginny and Luna on the train, watching the Scottish Highlands slowly transform into the low, tidy hills of the English countryside outside her window and hoping against hope that Ron will be there on Platform 9 and ¾. But she hasn’t heard from him since that first letter, and his mirror has gone dark. This doesn’t worry her - not for his safety, anyway - but it does make it difficult to share in Ginny’s gleeful anticipation as the train pulls into King’s Cross.

She busies herself with tending to Crookshanks, who is furious about his prolonged confinement in his basket, as Harry and Ginny embrace on the platform. It’s not that she’s upset, not really. Ron is doing what he needs to do, and she would never want him shirking his responsibilities just so he can kiss her on a train platform for the first time since April. She just wishes things could be different.

After Harry and Ginny depart for Grimmauld Place, she flags down a taxi and rides alone to her parents’ home. The family car is parked in front, which is unusual for a weekday, but when she goes inside, she finds her parents have been eagerly awaiting her arrival and can hardly let her set down her trunk before whisking her away to an upscale restaurant in South Kensington.

“So, tell us about school,” says Mum with an eager smile once they’re seated at their candlelit table. “How were your exams? I want to hear everything.”

“I will later,” Hermione replies, raising her brows and tipping her head pointedly in the direction of the waiter currently pouring red wine into their glasses.

“Oh, right, right, of course. Well, anyway, dear,” she begins as the waiter sets down menus and strides away, “your father and I have a little surprise for you.”

It’s foolish, she knows, but her mind leaps instantly to Ron. Maybe all of this business with his mission has been a ruse, and he’s here in London after all, and she’ll be able to come up with an excuse to spend the night at Grimmauld Place…

Until she notices that her parents are still talking, and there’s no tall, lanky, red-haired wizard to be seen in this high-end French restaurant, but there are three Eurostar boarding passes laid out across the tablecloth.

“Sorry,” says Hermione, shaking her head to clear away the daydream, “what’s going on?”

“We’re going to Paris!” announces Mum with delight. “We thought it would be so lovely to spend time together since you’ve been away for so long, and you’re about to start your new job - and I know you’ve always wanted to go there. We’ve got ten whole days, and everything’s booked, so all you’ve got to do is pack.”

“That - that’s - that’s brilliant,” Hermione musters, forcing her lips into some semblance of a smile. Her parents beam so brightly back that it’s almost difficult to look at them. “Erm, so when are we leaving?”

She crosses her fingers under the table, praying they’ll say August, or her birthday in September, or Christmas, anything but-

“This weekend!”

Of course.

•••

Paris is beautiful. It exceeds every single one of Hermione’s expectations. She and her parents consume copious amounts of bread, cheese and wine, they visit museums and cafes and old bookstores, they ascend to the top of the Eiffel Tower and take in the view. She thinks of Ron constantly as she walks the cobbled streets, as she crosses the Pont des Artes and sees the countless locks affixed to its railing. Before she left, she sent Harry an owl to tell him that she was leaving, so Ron would know where she was if he returned home before she did. As they can’t communicate when she’s staying in a Muggle hotel, she truly has no idea where he is, but she tells herself that he’s still on his mission. It feels better that way, imagining that even if she stayed in London, there would still be obstacles keeping them apart.

On their last day, she nearly empties out a patisserie buying eclairs and macarons for Ron, and then they board the Eurostar back to England. Nervous anticipation grips her stomach as the train barrels through the tunnel (idly, she wonders if Ron’s dad is aware of this train that travels underwater, and makes a mental note to tell him), because she has no idea what awaits her back in London. What if Ron’s still away? Or worse - what if something’s happened to him, and she’s been off enjoying a holiday while he’s been suffering?

The train can’t move quickly enough. Hermione can focus on nothing - not the paperback romance novel her mother has loaned her to read, not the Muggle newspaper that her father is engrossed in, not even the argument of the couple seated across the aisle from them. It’s only a two-hour trip, so why does it feel like it’s taking days?

She checks her mirror, but it’s still dark.

“You go ahead, sweetheart,” says Dad when the train finally rolls to a stop in St. Pancras station. “We’ll get the cases.”

Hermione looks up at the luggage rack over their heads, then at her parents. “Are you sure? I’ll bring mine-”

“We can manage. Go on ahead, get some fresh air.”

She doesn’t bother reminding them that train station air is hardly fresh, and instead heads down the aisle with just her purse and the box of pastries in tow. Truly, she’s not sure why her parents have sent her off the train without them; with the station as busy as it is, they’ll surely lose track of each other.

But then she sees him. Standing a head above the crowd, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his bright blue eyes scan the throngs of travelers. At first, she doesn’t believe her eyes. Surely, she’s just become so desperate to see him that she’s actually begun hallucinating.

But as she draws closer, he doesn’t ripple into nothingness, he doesn’t fade away. He’s really, truly there, his red hair curling behind his ears, one knee jiggling with pent-up energy the way it always does when he’s particularly impatient. As he turns his head, still surveying the crowd, their eyes lock and the rest of the station recedes into the background. Finally, they’re within sight of each other after months of hushed mirror conversations and stolen moments borrowing Professor McGonagall’s Floo. Hermione picks up speed, nearly skipping across the concrete in her haste, and flings herself into his waiting arms.

She fits against him perfectly. The fabric of his faded t-shirt is soft against her cheek as she breathes him in, and for the first time in recent memory, words fail her completely.

The box of pastries thuds to the ground.

“Hi,” he mutters, lips brushing her skin and sending chills up her spine.

“How - how did you-”

“Harry told me where you’d gone.” He presses a kiss to her cheek, and then, at long last, their lips connect. “It’s not that hard to look up train schedules.”

As reluctant as she is to pull away from him, she leans back just enough to look up at him. Behind the freckles scattered across his face, his cheeks have gone pink. “You’re amazing,” she tells him, rising on tiptoe for another kiss, unconcerned with the passersby and the blast of nearby train whistles.

Ron lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug when they break apart. “Had to meet you on a train platform somehow.”

#hpromione discord #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione fanfic #ahhh I missed writing about these two dorks #also message me if you want to join the discord!

151 notes · View notes

worldsover · 4 years ago

Text

Fermata ft. Chuu

length ✦ 5651

genres ✧ Dal Segno sequel; dirty talk; oral; makeup fetish; more subby!Chuu

✦✧✦✧✦✧

You write to keep your concentration and disconnect you from your ever-changing concerns. For all your ideas, the true crux of putting a piece together is actually making something concrete. The self-control you require to be consistent, and consistently creative, is what makes music so hard to stay focused on. This album must be finished. This year. No written promises but you have to do right by her after all you've invested. You fucked Jiwoo in the mouth yesterday. Real right of you to do.

“Coming!” Jiwoo must be far from the front door with how her holler resounds the apartment. Where do you put your hands? Pockets are natural though they don't feel like it. Many but not enough footsteps grow in loudness but you expect a stampede anyway when the door opens. Instead, only Yerim and Sooyoung manifest in the opening hallway.

“Hello, oppa! Jiwoo unnie is just… Umm. Taking care of business.” Yerim playfully elbows you when she pulls you in but you stop her to take your shoes off. Sooyoung sends a brusque wave your way and not much else as she collects assorted effects and clothing around the living room. There isn’t nearly as much noise as you expect.

Look around in confusion. “Did I miss something? Is today a holiday?”

“Jiwoo isn’t the only one who’s got schedules, PD-nim,” Sooyoung says.

Yerim turns around. She also has some nicer pants on, and a loose-fitting red top. “Unnie, you’re just visiting your family.”

“And that’s a schedule.”

“Well oppa, I have a CF to film so, ha!” Yerim raises a hand, victorious she just won the conversation. High five. She’s satisfied but Sooyoung gives no regard, clearly looking for something.

“What about the other girls?” you ask.

“I’m not a manager. Just count yourself lucky the dorm is so empty.” Yerim says.

“Damn, we can even record some demos too. Good thing I brought the mic. Hold on, before you guys go, wanna listen to some of our songs?” you say.

“Finally!” Yerim says.

“Just play it out loud, I can hear it,” Sooyoung says. You offer your help with whatever she’s searching for though she brushes you off and insists she can do it herself.

Yerim brings out a bluetooth speaker from underneath the living room couch and coughs because of whatever dust she just procured.

Pull out your Macbook from your backpack and connect it to the speaker. You think about which track to play and pick the one that shows off Jiwoo’s voice the best so far, Jiwoo - Deeper.

Yerim immediately gets into the beat, bobbing her head and dancing. However, when the chorus hits, her ears perk up and she starts cheering at the notes that Jiwoo belts. Sooyoung also turns an ear towards the speaker in curiosity.

A vacuum interrupts the music. Jiwoo swoops in with the machine, scurrying her shapely legs with no heed to their bareness. She pushes up her fake circle glasses and says over the commotion, “I knew you needed this! Oppa, hello!”

“I’m trying to listen to the music here!” Yerim covers her ears.

Sooyoung looks down and pauses at the edge of the couch. “Oh hey, there’s my bracelet! Really nice music by the way!”

“Wow, you guys are so kind.” Jiwoo says, her voice piercing the screaming vacuum without effort. She turns it off realizing she's the only one can really do so. “You still like the music now?”

“No unnie, I mean it,” Yerim says.

“Why are you wearing just that big tracksuit sweater? Do you even have shorts on?” you interrupt the gushing. Jiwoo turns around and hugs herself as if she dropped a towel, even though her immodesty comes from her lower body. Good thing no one notices her sweater ride up for a moment to reveal white panties. Sooyoung looks at you confused while Yerim smirks to match yours. She wasn't even looking at Jiwoo but she could probably tell from your face. Damn, she’s too perceptive.

“Well, it looks like that’s my cue to go,” Yerim says.

“I’m so confused,” Sooyoung looks back and forth at you and the other two girls in the room. You shrug your shoulders, pretending to take solace in her ignorance of the situation.

“Come on unnie, we’ll go together. I’ll go out to get money and you go out to get your kisses from mommy and daddy.” Somehow that didn’t sound too offensive but Sooyoung punches Yerim anyway.

“Oppa, can you finish vacuuming for me?” You’re about to make a retort about labor laws but Jiwoo runs to the bathroom and immediately you hear Jiwoo practicing melodic runs. They’re definitely not the ones you taught her, unless moaning was part of the routine.

“So she has to get her vocal cords ready too huh? I’m suuure that’s all she’s doing in there.” Yerim keeps poking at your bicep with two fingers. You turn on the vacuum to try and hide her overt naughtiness but Yerim’s devilish look tells enough. For full measure, she winks at you as she drags Sooyoung out of the dorm. Mental note to deal with that can of worms for later.

Head to the big bedroom where Jiwoo’s still doing vocal exercises. Three bunk beds line the walls while pillows, blankets and bean bags litter the floor. As the centrepiece of the room sits a simple wooden table, short enough to rest on the polystyrene filled chairs while adequately comfortable to get work done. She stands proud on top of the table as she practices the actual runs you tell her to do.

“Oh, oh, ohhhhh, oh, ohhhhppa!” She jumps down from the table and nearly tackles you when she locks her legs around you in a hug. Take a second to balance yourself while holding her as tightly as possible.

“Jiwoo, you’re eager today.”

“Of course I am, oppa. I’m soooo excited to. Record. Of course.”

“Well if you are, please get off of me.”

“Oppa! You don’t like my hugs?” she says nearly falsetto. Her aegyo throws you off, so you throw her off. Onto a bean bag. “I guess that’s a no.”

“No, not no. I mean. We have to be focused, Jiwoo. Is there any rope or anything?”

“You just said we have to be focused, oppa.”

You wave your hands in denial. “What’d I say about acoustics?”

“Ohhh, like the foam at the studio?”

“Exactly. Especially with how big this room is, we’re going to have to need all the insulation we can get. Ahhh!” Your random shout rumbles throughout the room and startles the relaxing Jiwoo.

She stands up. “I get it! Geez.”

“Oh yeah, I need a pop filter too.”

“A thin fabric right? For all the p-p-plosives.”

“Mhm.”

Inevitable. Jiwoo takes off her panties and you shake your head laughing in disapproval.

“Come on now, that’s just not sanitary,” you say.

“So you’re saying you don’t want them?”

“No, I’ll just confiscate them for your stupidity. Tsk. Find some pantyhose.“ She gets up. “Ahem. Not used.”

The panties have a tiny wet spot, and your nose takes a quick bask in its musk but Jiwoo immediately catches you.

“And I’m too horny,” Jiwoo says with characteristic sass. You put it in your pocket as she gets pantyhose from her drawer. After fashioning a stand for the pantyhose for her to sing into, you both get to work hanging up blankets from the bunk beds while clotheslines become pillow-lines. A makeshift room within a room, still centered by the table but now surrounding you with cushioning cloth instead of acoustically reflective drywall.

Barely enough space for jumping jacks but you start doing them anyway and it flummoxes Jiwoo for a moment. You don’t need to tell her to join in. Sit down to play an instrumental from the laptop and she pauses the exercise before you motion for her to continue.

“I need you with the right energy for the beat.”

“Yeah, I figured. Synthwave is really popular now, huh?” Her bouncing to the rhythm rides her hoodie up again but now her cute slit and bare legs are plain to see. Your tongue dries your lips. She catches her breath before stretching one last time. Keep it together. “So are we recording?”

You nod. Take out the microphone and two pairs of in ear monitors for listening, and connect all the devices to the computer. After setting everything up, Jiwoo gets up and you hold the microphone and filter for her.

Click. “Aaand, recording.”

Click. “One more.”

But that’s it. Two takes. You could not get a better sounding Jiwoo than that. Not a quick demo but the actual release vocal track, since even in such an imperfect recording environment, it sounds perfect to your ears. A little frustration since where was this Jiwoo in all the previous sessions? Maybe you’ll have to consider more visits for recording though you’re not sure if you could make another miracle happen to have everyone else out of the dorm at the same time.

“Jiwoo, that was a- Dammit, that was perfect,” you say.

“Of course, it was!” Not that there’s much room in the improvised recording studio but she ensures you feel even less of it when she gets closer. “Sooo. Wanna fuck my face?”

“That’s not the arrangement! You didn’t mess up.”

“You definitely sound disappointed I did a good job,” Jiwoo says.

”Of course I’m not disappointed.” You sigh. Are we doing this again? A single flitter of her brows. “I’m not going to fuck your face this time, okay? You have to be able to take that dick all the way down yourself.”

No protests. She lowers her head once in gratitude.

"Thank you for the meal!" Jiwoo says as she shows off her pearly whites in a big smile. She turns her head up to look at you lovingly as she cups your balls with her hands before she lowers her head again for a precursory smooch onto your cock. This time, she gives the same slow care to your shaft with her lips as she is to your balls with her hands. As if she wasn't going to ruin her makeup.

Restraining your panting and cries of ecstasy is arduous enough with Jiwoo engulfing you when-

“Kim Jiwoo!” Sooyoung’s voice reverberates from maybe the living room or the foyer.

Jiwoo side-eyes the study door. Her head does not stop its seesaw. Is this girl so entranced by your cock that she feels not an ounce of dread?

Sooyoung yells, “I forgot something! Just wanted to let you know I’ll be back later with dinner!”

“Okay! Thanks! We’re busy,” you choke on your words as Jiwoo does the same on your dick, “Uh, listening to the mix!”

Sooyoung, still shouting, but attempting to say lower, “Sorry! I’ll go now. Bye.”

Wait a few minutes before getting up, and of course Jiwoo’s lips are still wrapped around your cock as you walk towards the door. Dorm is empty. She must have performed magic taking off her shirt and underwear to play with herself because you can't remember if she's ever stopped sucking you off. The kinematics don't add up. More likely, you’re slightly faint from her perilous suction, making left and right difficult directions to parse from each other.

"Fuck you're already so good, Jiwoo."

Pull her up and carry her to deposit onto the bottom bunk of the bed by the window. She ends up belly diving onto the mattress’ surface and her buttcheeks recoil just the slightest bit. Jiwoo notices and starts giggling when she plays around with her perky cheeks.

"You like my ass, oppa?" Nod.

“I said I wasn’t going to fuck your face today. Fuck. Maybe I’ll fuck you there instead,” you say in a low bass.

Her eyes turn into full moons at your suggestion. You laugh.

”Naughty fucking girl. Next time, when you’re a good girl. Such a fun ass though.” Follow through with the compliment as you line up your cock to the prone girl’s mouth, arcing down to fondle her round buns. It's a miracle and also a bit embarrassing that your erection is soft after all that. Best guess is that it's had so much stimulation, but all of the masturbation after recalling your previous facefuck probably didn't help. Jiwoo takes her index and middle digits and raps them on your cock to a freeform beat.

“Aww oppa, your cock. I need to make it big and meaty again,” Jiwoo whines and her pout confesses that she's a little disheartened, however her eyes are more determined.

“Tell me all the ways you want me to use you." She raises her vivid eyebrows and lists her head a little forward. “Okay, miss ‘I won’t let go of this cock even when there’s others in the house’. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time. Just relax and go on.”

“Hmph. Fine. Well, your dick is right here, sooo after I lick it up,” which she begins doing by inspecting your shaft with intent, before finding a spot she deems scrumptious enough to lap up. “You fuck this dirty mouth pussy clean while I play myself on my tummy just like this.”

Jiwoo sounds ridiculous talking with her tongue out but at the same time, her cheeky lisp fortifies your cock. Her hands wander underneath herself and she reels back, titillated by her own words. You watch the small woman fondling herself with both hands while your erection at half-mast presses against her face in suspense.

“I could flip myself over and I’d never let go of oppa’s cock, I promise, then you could see your bulge in my fuck hole.”

How could this girl talk so filthy? Her face doesn’t even look like it should utter the word darn, yet here she is giving a study of her throat’s distension from your dick.

Jiwoo continues, one hand rubbing her clit fervently, “Then, maybe. Maybe oppa could get on top of me and pretty please eat my little pussy out while he shoves his cock into me?”

You couldn’t just stand idly by, though it wouldn’t be the worst with how her mouth vibrates your cock harder as her tone gets more gravelly and hungry. When you reach down, you see her wet slit preoccupied with two fingers from her other hand. It doesn’t stop you from slipping one in the increasingly creamy hole.

“Then oppa, if you still wanna at least?” her voice shrinks, but then returns in volume as she crescendos, “You keep your mouth on my slit as you lift up my legs and your silly slut is upside down and she’s choking on your cock and Jiwoo can’t breath and all the blood rushing to her head and you cum and Jiwoo doesn’t let any of spill out cuz Jiwoo is a good slut for oppa, and oppa, oppa, please!”

You join in stroking and rubbing her squishy soaking pussy lips and she looks up from her haze.

“Kim Jiwoo.” Your voice is stern and it seems more than any physical stimulation that your deep beckon is what sends her past the edge. Her pussy swallows whole your finger still inside her, wetness replacing all sensation that the digit once had. She accompanies her whole body’s spasms with loud visceral moans. It takes more than a mere moment to close her eyes and restore her breathing. The bedroom smells a little salty from all the fluids leaking her mouth and slit.

“How much porn have you been watching?” you say.

“As much as you oppa.”

Swallow down a bit of spit. “Huh?”

“Remember our very first recording session, you forgot your laptop and I returned it to you?”

“Fuck,” you say. Jiwoo stretches and lay spread-eagle on the bed, a gooey strand connecting between her two thighs. She licks her fingers.

“You're lucky I found it. Oppa, it’s all your fault I’m like this. Plus all those fancams of me in the same folder. I wanted to confess sooner but I needed more opportunities to be with you.” She sucks her hand more earnestly.

“I didn’t think sucking dick counted as confessing.”

“Hey, I did say I like you. Did you already forget? Tsk. Typical boy.”

“Look at this dick.” You didn’t have to say that because she’s already drilling holes into it with her eyes. “Remember how I said I was basically recording for free? Make your own inferences.” The round shape of her mouth in understanding is perfect. "Now, open wide."

"Yes! Mm..."

It’s hard to say which position is your favorite.

Fucking her face is straightforward but you pay closer attention. You’re certainly not down that deep, as you can still feel her uvula recoil on your tip and react with thick gagged out spit. Nothing like your cum but she sucks and spits the liquid in and out anyway. She definitely enjoys playing around with fluids in her mouth.

Jiwoo pulls away when she upturns herself, as she coughs with whatever throat muscles you hit. Her head hanging upside down off the mattress would be the perfect perspective to see your cock’s imprint on her neck but she still can’t manage the depth. The angle certainly makes your pistoning easier as your balls slap against your nose in more forceful pushes, playing vulgar slapping noises that mix with her gagging.

Afterwards, you lean over and move her head to get the mattress’s support instead of dangling. Hunch down to her wetness and the taste of her nectar more than makes up for the difficulty of thrusting while on top of her. Already having difficulty breathing with a cock in her airways, you don’t want to crush her under your weight. Still, you spend the most time between her thighs, taking in the muskiness of her pussy and all that it releases. It explains Jiwoo’s long drawn breath through her nose if you have a similarly alluring scent. There’s also the possibility your length steals too much air from her wet, gagging mouth but in this position, it’s her choice to hold your shaft in her throat for that much time.

Pick her up by the ass and cup the top of Jiwoo’s cheeks. Well, now they’re the bottom as she’s upside down in this piledriver sixty-nine position, both of you sucking and licking as closely as possible. She’s definitely enjoying the scents and tastes. You could drop her on her head and she'd thank you if you kept your cock in her mouth. Maybe you heard her mumble something like “yummy”, but anything resembling consonants are far past the point of physiology and linguistics. If anything, holding Jiwoo upside down makes her look more like a used sex doll than the cute girl that she is.

A whole lot of mess to clean up later. Cans of Febreeze, maybe some rags and a mop. New sheets, soaked with nearly every bodily fluid mouthfucking can provide. However, all that work pales to the pure torture you’ve put upon yourself to not cum. It helps with how often you pull out of her mouth as for all her prodigal gagging, she also looks thankful when you give her moments to rest her jaw and lips. Somehow you're in control the entire time yet you have not an ounce of it, avoiding your inevitable fate. Finally, you can rest. Now you’re thankful you jerked off many times before this to last as long as you have.

Of course, resting did mean you were on an office chair and she was on her knees, but still. It’s a break from all the exercise.

“You know oppa,” she says with a smile on her face.

“I was waiting for you to ask,” mumbling as she often does on your erection.

“Jiwoo-ah! Wear lip gloss.” How she manages to get that out so adorably with a cock in her mouth, you will never know.

“But I figured,” bobbing down, “I was sucking you off so sloppily,” and up, “It’d be such a waste of makeup.”

The girl made a point though you say, “I’d still like to see it one time. Alright? I don’t wanna have to ask either.”

“Okayyyy.” She says as she purrs on your dick. The little devil knows how weak you are when she talks with a full mouth. You still aren’t going to succumb this time. Pulling out of her mouth is as difficult as last time but you snap your head back and you snap your head away.

"Nooo." A familiar cry. What if she didn't even like the taste of cum? No time for questions as your body falls apart in the clashing brass and woodwinds. The obnoxious dissonance making you pulse and pulse. You aim below her neck to allow the cum to drip down her collarbones and petite tits. Rub her nipples, sticky with your load and she lets out a little squeal when you tweak them.

"Pwetty pwease oppa. Your cumdump Chuu-ah really wants your cum." She puts her pointer on her swollen cheek. God, she's too much for one man but that’s the situation you put yourself in.

Plop.

"Jiwoo, please. It's so sensitive," you whimper as she keeps sucking the tip.

"You get to do whatever you want oppa."

"Fuck.” Pull Jiwoo off of you. “Maybe I will."

You collect your load from her tits as an impressive volume drips down.

"Ahh," Jiwoo says but you push her down one last time with your unstained hand and your other uses a finger to penetrate her little pussy, providing it with the semen that she desperately wants.

"I hope this is good enough for now." Her squeaks in time with each finger on your sticky hand exploring her insides confirm that it is indeed.

A step closer and your rehardening cock finds her labia, small but inviting. She gasps and shudders as you tease her pussy lips in a familiar way. It’s just as sensitive for her as it is for you with how much she sweats and writhes from the shaft The friction of the pussyjob is unbearable and instead of juices dripping from within her, a heavy volume of watery liquid squirts out.

“I’m so, I’m so sorry oppa.”

“It’s okay, Jiwoo.” You put the tip in. “Doesn’t that feel so good.”

“Yes! Thank you. Awwww,” She says when you pop it out. In another world, that tip pushes past and you ravage her. But at this point, you have standards to uphold.

“Be a good girl for me and you can have more, okay?” Give her a rainbow dildo to practice with.

"Oh I already have one, oppa. This looks like it fits better though. Well I guess worse considering how much bigger it is. Just like. Yours. Fuck."

Despite all her orgasms, she looks ready to masturbate yet another time.

"We can't just cum all day Jiwoo," you say. She sighs and nods in understanding.

“Where am I gonna hide this? It really stands out.”

“Just keep it inside you.” Her eyes light up. “No wait.”

Jiwoo giggles. “C’mon oppa, they should be back any time soon.”

You finish up some final touches in your recording. There’s definitely more hitches when it comes to dealing with vocal recordings in such an improvised setting but it’s certainly not as much of a problem as looking at any of the other members in the eyes as you stay for dinner.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

tYou tend to get in a rush when you procrastinate as much as you do. It’s her first album, there’s no reason to rush her first album. Besides, the strength of any artist’s work is in their sophomore album, since they’ve had forever to work on that first one and now people are expecting the second. In either case, you really have time, but you don’t let yourself feel that. Instead, mixing and recording, once a job you enjoyed doing, has turned into a series of stressors in your life.

Jiwoo’s in a rush too. Why is she in such a rush?

“Hello. Oppa. I. Uh. Heard you got into a fender bender.” Every word sounds laborious as she opens the door to the studio. You step out into the hallway then look left and right. Nothing out of place.

“Yeah, just some scratches. You okay, Jiwoo?”

Her lips tuck in when she walks forward even a step. “Yep, doing juust fine. We gonna get to recording or what?”

“I mean if you say so.”

Each step towards the booth has her hitch her breath just a little, but she looks focused as ever so you waste no time and hit record. Should you text another member and ask if anything's off about Jiwoo today? Her singing is fine, maybe a little more vocal fry in her voice than usual, but it fits the sultry ballad.

You text Chaewon as Jiwoo keeps trying out different intonations for the pre-chorus.

Chaewon: "she was all flirty and weird today"

You: "lmao aight, tell something idk"

"yeah yeah, but this is different"

"different how? she's always like that"

Jiwoo sees you typing and stops her singing to ask if anything's wrong. You shake your head and wave your free hand, gesturing for her to continue.

"i guess less wordy and more touchy today? good luck, lmk if you figure it out"

"i will. see ya later"

Curious. You set your phone down and inspect Jiwoo's eyes and her crinkled nose. Hmm.

A few hours later, you’re still recording. For how well the session at the dorm went, it feels like you’re back to square one with all of her mistakes today. She had such a good first takes too but her vocal quality is definitely receding, and in a different way than usual.

“I need to go to the restroom. I’ll be back,” you say into the microphone.

You go quickly to relieve yourself. A lot of water today. Needed it looking at Jiwoo in whatever weird state she's in. For some godforsaken reason you have an urge to take her mouth right now and completely ruin her. This album is never coming out.

Slowly creak the door to the studio open. No need for surprise anymore. Jiwoo pulls out a dildo from her sobbing vagina in the vocal booth and drags it up her body. Her eyes are closed, her focus clearly on the sensation of the dildo finally removed for her. She really went through with your suggestion. Must've been in there for a while considering Chaewon noticed something off earlier today. The dildo meets Jiwoo's lips, both wet from her desire and she shoves it in as deep as she can in the first try.

Walk towards the Macbook and notice that it's recording. Shit, how much space did you have left on it? Hopefully, not going to have to clean it up later.

Finally, her eyes open and she smiles looking at you while she touches herself with one hand and deepthroats herself with the other using the toy you gave her. She pauses her masturbation for a moment, tapping her ear. A new audio clip in Ableton, so put on your headphones.

“Come here oppa. I did a bad job today, didn’t I?”

The only words she needs for you to drop everything and walk into the booth.

“You did,” you say as you unbuckle.

In a single stroke, she swallows your cock, matching the reinsertion of the dildo into her pussy. Jiwoo makes a tight vacuum seal with her luscious lips and shows off how well she manages her breath. Air squeezes through in her nose as you rarely unfastened yourself from her suction, and as she rarely allowed you to. Her lips are a good cock ring, her mouth a fleshlight. At the very least, this gave you much patience with her recording, knowing you were allowed to use your frustrations to turn the talented young lady into an object to use.

It’s incredible how little she has to touch herself to achieve orgasm when your cock is in her mouth. To be fair, keeping the dildo as long as she has inside of her must be a feat of its own.

“Jiwoo. Did you have this in you all day? I bet you’d prefer it were the real thing, huh?”

“Mmmhm. Mmmm!" She convulses at once. The toy squeezes in and out of her while she moans and spills saliva all over your cock. “Fuck, I wanted to cum all day but I had to wait. It’s your turn now, right?”

Jiwoo pulls out the soaked dildo and with her little fingers teases the skin of your dick before maintaining a tight grip. Her hand’s perfect rhythm and all the sucking she’s done so far today gets you right there and over the edge as quickly as she did. You unload all over the colorful sex toy and Jiwoo doesn’t let you have time to think as she puts the cum-covered toy back inside her.

You suck in some air. ”Who said you could have that cum? Lie down on the couch.” No pretense. Is there love between you two? Pull down her spotted top before mounting her modest but perky tits. It’s been barely a minute yet you’re already ready and solid once again. She tries to lean her head forward to retrieve her oral punishment-

“Thank you!”

Reward. Now that you think about it, maybe this isn’t working. The supine girl beneath you flitters her lashes, curious as to why you haven’t yet thrust into her mouth.

“You know much I love to see you work for it. Go on.”

As your cock is standing upwards at attention, she struggles raising her head to match yours, gently poking her tongue out to lick the frenulum.

“Ahh. No fair! I can’t reach. Ppfh.” She spits on it in frustration. “Ppptt. Let me have it.”

Her tongue wiggles around fruitlessly. Spit on her face in retort and you both laugh looking at the mess you’ve made. Yet at last, after playing with her food for what feels like an eternity, Jiwoo manages to wrangle your head with her tongue, guiding it to her eager lips.

“Now I better not feel that barrier, okay? Track 1.” And slowly force your way into her throat. You feigned frustration with her inability to fully take you down, but this was heaven. Regardless, stopped by her cursed reflex, you say:

“Not good enough.” You’d almost feel bad about this.

“Again.” If it didn’t feel so good.

“One more.” Another submersion into her sopping mouth, the friction of her soft lips and tongue opposes all the lubricating slop from her throat.

Unsheathe. “Oppa, oppa wait. Let me get something. You’ll like it.” You concede, getting off of her, and she pulls from her purse bright red lip gloss. “Watch me stain your cock!”

In a rush, Jiwoo vandalizes her lips red. Her makeup artist would be embarrassed. Of course, that makeup artist would be outright scandalized if they could see the precious idol with her back hunched over the arm of the couch, her upside down face inviting you.

You walk up and give her a good view of your balls. Tickle her neck and she leans forward to plant a pure kiss. On your cock head. “You know we haven’t kissed once yet? You haven’t even said anything about how you feel about me!”

“Neither did you.” Move your hands from Jiwoo’s neck to her bare chest and play with her stiffening nipples.

“Well, let me show you.” She plants another smooch on your shaft. And another. Yet another, until it’s turned into a full-on makeout session with your penis. The upended Jiwoo has to twist herself to leave the entirety of your flesh marked with lipstick stains. However, her best work is her french kiss where takes your dick in and plays around with her tongue, as if the mindless beast could kiss back. She leans her head back out one more time to receive you.

A sharp push and her tiny tits respond with the subtlest jiggle.

All but an inch of your shaft covered red. “I’m so close,” she pouts.

“Well, so am I.” You keep thrusting and feel your orgasm get closer. You’re on the edge.

“Mwah.” Her lips’ release leaves your blank head even emptier. “Mwah mwah, mwah.” She fixes her top back and wipes around her lips.

She takes wet wipes then a mask from her purse while you stand dumbfounded. There are four walls in the room. Wires spill from your laptop. One, two, three, four. You are one beat away from orgasm.

Her voice snaps your focus back. “Oppa, that was a good recording session, but you know. Ha Rin unnie has to pick me up. Bye!” Jiwoo scampers away, wiping at her face.

You might actually explode next time, in more ways than one. Guess you deserve this one though.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Just wanted to get one more thing done before the new year so I chose this since like I said, this was originally written as one part. In fact, this is actually the very first smut I wrote. However, I kept getting stuck and adding more, so a trilogy it is then. That’s right, one last one coming up!

#kpop smut #loona smut #male reader #reader insert #title tracks

310 notes · View notes

tetsunormous · 4 years ago

Text

Something cute the boys would do as your partner

mentions: Kuroo, Tsukishima, Bokuto, Ushijima, Akaashi, Nishinoya, Asahi, Kenma, Suna, Oikawa x gn!reader

genre: fluff

A/N: If you want a longer version of any of these, lmk

Kuroo

As the captain, he needs to keep his grades up so he can stay in the club and go to volleyball events

This isn’t hard since he’s naturally a nerd, but he likes to study with you after practice

When you’re busy focusing he will sneak glances at you and silently chuckle at how cute he thinks you are

He will leave little notes in your notebooks and randomly draw hearts in the corners of pages but pretends he doesn’t know why you’ll randomly start blushing as you flip the page

The notes will range from “hey, you’re cute. Are you single?” to “you make me hotter than sulfate hydroxide mixed with ethyl acetate”

He loves you even more because you don’t always understand his chemistry jokes but he still manages to get you flustered

Knowing he’ll tease you if you react to his little notes you try your best to hide your smiles, but Kuroo is extremely observant and never fails to point out how cute you are with the biggest smirk on his face

“Tsk chibi-chan I know you find me unbelievably attractive but we’re supposed to be studying, what’s got you so red?”

Tsukishima

Tsukki really cares about you but he has a hard time expressing himself in public

He knows you like to be close to him because you tend to get a little anxious

He won’t say anything, he will just stick out his hand and wait until you interlock your fingers with him

He would never tell you but when you’re out and there’s a lot of people, he will walk slightly faster so you’re directly behind him and give your hand random squeezes for reassurance

He doesn’t want you to get lost and bump into anyone so he stays in front, that way he clears the way for you

Bokuto

Bokuto is our favourite himbo

He thinks so highly of you, there’s not a thing you do that doesn’t impress him

Bo tries really hard for you, and you help to motivate him even when you’re apart

You always make him after school snacks so he has energy for practice, so he’ll try to make you breakfast when you stay over

He shows off the snacks you make for him, especially to Akaashi, even if it's just cut up fruit

He’s getting a lot better at following youtube tutorials but the first time he tried making you pancakes, they got burnt so he made you a bowl of cereal instead

He spelt out “I’m sorry :(“ with the cereal as you’re eating

Ushijima

He is a very straightforward person and doesn’t see the need to outwardly flaunt you around

When you’re out with him, he likes it when you grab onto his arm because he likes how small you look compared to him (this man is a giant and no matter your size, he’s gonna think you’re smaller)

He tells you all the time he thinks you’re pretty

Toshi has long ass legs so it’s difficult to keep up sometimes, but when you get tired he loves giving you piggyback rides

He feels very giddy when you’re holding onto him and you mindlessly ramble about the things you see because he likes the feeling of protecting you

Toshi doesn’t talk a lot but he’s always listening and its evident in the things he ends up doing/ getting for you

He doesn’t smile often either, unless he’s with you, and he makes sure you know that he’s happy with you

Akaashi

Akaashi loves how independent you are

He likes that you get along with his friends, specifically Bokuto, but most of all he loves that even though you can take care of yourself, you’re not afraid to depend on him

You’re a little more outgoing than him in social settings, but you both prefer staying in so every night he will have you lay on his chest while he plays with your hair

Normally, you’re on your phone while he reads his books but regardless of what he’s doing, he will either have his hand running through your hair or rubbing circles on your back

He loves how it feels to have you snuggled into him and when you end up drifting off to sleep, he will kiss your forehead and whisper “Goodnight darling” without fail every night

Nishinoya

Noya loves that you can be just as energetic and you both like pda

He thinks your his good luck charm

Noya will scan the entire crowd before a game until he finds you and blows you a kiss

Every time he’s switched on, he will send you a wink but other than that he is very focused on the game and it’s nice to see how serious he can get when he needs to be

After a game, no matter the result he will ask you to meet him in the lobby and he’ll thank you for being there for him

But if they won, he and Tanaka will be running towards you and he would yell asking for kisses as a prize

Asahi

He’s a soft boy that always makes sure you’re okay

He’s shy so he finds subtle ways he can show you his affection without causing a scene

Azumane is a gentle giant and it’s easy to get him flustered (which you take advantage of) so even spontaneously giving him a kiss on the cheek will make him go red

You both settle on him giving you headpats when he picks you up from class and you hold his arm as you’re walking

The team always teases him about your relationship because it’s so easy to make him flustered, but he secretly loves it

He loves that you made an effort to get to know the team and that you’re able to joke around with everyone, even if he ends up being the butt of the jokes

Kenma

He isn’t into pda at all but he knows you want to feel close to him even when you’re out

He finds you matching shoes in different colours, he even switched the shoelaces of one of the shoes with his so you each have one lace from the other

Kenma is quite shy and doesn’t talk much but he’s very observant and has all your favourite orders memorized at all the fast food places the two of you go to

Without fail, he will order exactly what you want (preferably at a kiosk)

His memory is so good he would even remember how many ketchups you usually need to finish your fries

If you’re at home, he has a little drawer in his room filled with your favourite snacks because the two of you always stay up late and he likes to be prepared

Suna

He might not talk a lot but he loves making memories with you

Suna, as we’ve seen with the Miya twins, is very quick to whip out his phone when something happens

He has a photo album in his phone just for pictures of you or with you

When he misses you (especially before a game if you can't make it) he will always look at the first picture you took together after the first game of his you attended

Suna has a lot of secret pictures of you when you're cuddling of you fall asleep on him, he doesn’t want you to find them but they’re his favourite because nothing makes him fall harder than knowing he makes you feel safe

Oikawa

He calls you prince(ss) and cutie

Oikawa has a lot of fangirls, but he constantly feels like he isn’t good enough so he wants validation from the people he cares about, you especially

He treats you like absolute royalty because he wants to show how much he appreciates you constantly providing reassurance

He loves making you smile and laugh, and he’ll do just about anything to ensure you’re smiling

I just know Oikawa is the type to tickle their s/o under the chin when their pouting

However, hearing you giggle because he’s getting bullied by Iwa-chan will undoubtedly cause him to pout on the outside but if you get close enough he’s sure you’d be able to hear his heart racing from how happy he is

136 notes · View notes

thegardenofzodiac · 4 years ago

Text

How to ask each sign out

Check venus!

Aries: Just go for it, they may be resistant at first, they like making jokes out of it and likely will get embarrassed, so the best way to do it is be confident and say it. If they say no, ask again, play along with them. They'll love it if you do and sense that you are serious about it.

Taurus: You're going to have to befriend these folks before you can ask them out, otherwise they will almost certainly say no... Or you make a very very good first impression, but they are picky and aren't about to go on a date with someone random. So get to know them, let them get to know you... Then ask them out!

Gemini: If you want them to be excited I would ask them out in a fun way, maybe write a note and leave it somewhere for them to find, or don't even and when you're hanging out go in for a kiss. Seriously with these folks the more out there, unusual and fun the better. However never ever make it this big thing in front of a lot of people or you will embarass them and possibly never be allowed to speak to them again. You have to hold their attention and make it interesting enough for them to want to stick around.

Cancer: Romance is the way, have flowers sent to them, go to their house with a box of chocolates, every classic thing you can think of... Do it. Just no cheesy pickup lines. Whatever you do it has to be one hundred percent genuine. Otherwise they will see right through you and it will go absolutely no where.

Leo: Confidence is key with them. Being light-hearted but also making them feel important is a good balance, they won't want you to be too serious because that would feel too fast. It needs to be slow and fun before anything else, you'll have to have the same attitude and keep up with their energy or they may find you to be dull and too needy. You can't jump right into lovey dovey with them, fun first... Love later.

Virgo: The best way to ask them out is just to state it "I'm taking you to dinner tomorrow, what time can I pick you up?" Now you need to understand. This can go two ways, either they'll be surprised and really excited or they'll be extremely upset and very offended. Either way you will have a very honest answer. They prefer directness, but never ever ever try and control them. That will do the absolute opposite. It's about making them feel like they are cared for and someone else can take the load for them here and there.

Libra: Compliments, all of them ever. Every single one. But not all at once, spread out and far apart, every one of them needs to feel new and magical. You will likely have to ask them out a few times before they say yes. And trust me it's not because they don't want to its because they do not want to seem that easy, they like to play hard to get. But If you give up on the first try it's definitely not going to happen. You gotta keep trying, but also playing hard to get with them can work too, maybe try a twice If they say no then be quiet for a bit. You may have enticed them just enough that they'll come to you!

Scorpio: Buy them their favorite coffee or other beverage. And then ask it, as though its the most natural, unimportant thing. But make eye contact let them know you are serious. They likely won't be over the top in the moment but if they say yes I can bet you they are incredibly excited. You better make them feel important and give them a meaningful date because at this point they are serious about you!!! Saying yes for them is a big deal, like Taurus you probably will have to spend time getting to know them before they are interested in a date.

Sagittarius: You can ask them out, and honestly they may say yes. But don't expect it to be anything like a date, they may invite other friends, take you to a crowded location or talk to you in a very clear friend zone kind of a way. However don't take this as disinterest if you can play along be okay with them not being the most touchy feely romantic and going to the most random places. Plus often other people being involved in your dates, they may just fall head over heels for you.

Capricorn: You can ask them out in almost anyway, but if they don't have an interest... Well you won't be changing their mind. Often if you make an effort to remember details about them and bring them up, asking about their or dog or what not they will be more prone to be interested in getting to know you better. But it takes time to get past their walls and they do not want to be rushed. So slowly is the better route. Pushing is never going to work with them, unless they know you and understand you have good loving intentions. Truthfully your best way of actually going out with them is becoming their best friend first, they're a sucker for best friend kind of a romance.

Aquarius: Getting them tickets to something they are interested in is almost a sure way to at least get them to go with you, and from there you just have to be interesting enough for them to actually enjoy you. If you are able to listen and hold a very deep, thoughtful and possibly opinionated conversation without getting upset, holding your ground and actually having a lot to add in they probably will like you.

Pisces: Tell them how much you would love to rose them on a date, that you really like the way they do so and so. Pay attention to little details about them to point out, that will make them aware you've liked them a bit before going after it. Make them feel important on the date, hold their hand, kiss their cheek, pick them up. All of that. Old fashioned is the way to go with them.

#astrology #zodiac #venus #lavendermadethis #thegardenofzodiac #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

494 notes · View notes

morifinwes · 4 years ago

Note

Lauraa I finished all the fics, apart from decay (currently reading that now) and I love it sm! Especially the lip gloss one lmao the whole thing was so hilarious to me XD but also like the concept of lwj wearing lipgloss is >>> -yibobibo

@yibobibo then i'm going to rec you some more!! the lip gloss one was !!!!! ajsksks yes!! lwj wearing lipgloss is just so!! good!!

modern

this one is the painful one i talked about:

visitations by var_abelasan (12K, wip, divorced wangxian, post divorce, most of this is angst, uhm lowkey don't but also do want wangxian to end up together, it's messy, the jiangs & lans are shitty, wwx was in prison (brief mentions of that but it's kind of a major plot point), mxy & xy are the little brothers he never wanted but wwx picked them up anyways)

"Wei Ying-" Lan Zhan says, stutters, "I'm sorry."

And now Wei Wuxian sees it, the red rimming Lan Zhan's eyes, the rumpled edges of his blazer. There is an old, familiar urge for him to reach over, to hold Lan Zhan's hand and smooth his hair, to tell him that everything will be fine.

"We're all a bit sorry about this, I think," he says instead, and finds that he means it. For Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and everyone else in that Guanyin temple, the pain must be unbearably fresh, like skin just flayed open. But Wei Wuxian's chest had been cracked open a long time ago, his wounds licked and cauterized and sewn shut over five long years - Ever hurting, but a dull, constant ache, "It's really alright, Lan Zhan."

Five years after being accused of corporate espionage and losing everything, the Guanyin Scandal breaks open and Wei Wuxian finds a familiar face at his door.

please don't let me be misunderstood by sysrae (3K, partly deaf!wwx, lwj notices, nobody else does though, idk wwx is like made out of fucking steel or some shit)

Lan Wangji has known Wei Ying for a fortnight, the first time he sees him get hit by a car.

light by redkosmos (10K, blind!lwj, which causes angst, but they manage it, best friends to lovers, fluff, lwj being insecure and feeling like a burden, college au kind of? but it doesn't matter too much)

The realization slowly dawns on him.

He can never again see the brightness of Wei Ying's eyes, the way they crescent when he smiles, never again see the rich black of his hair, the mess of it in the early mornings, never again see the beautiful tan of his skin, the beauty of the scars and marks adorned on it, how he wears his clothes, how it hugs his frame beautifully, how he looks like he's adorably swimming in cloth when he wears Lan Zhan's, and-

(Lan Zhan loses his vision in a car accident and learns to cope with it.)

don't leave me by trippinonskies (19K, brief very brief mention of lwj cheating, he doesn't but wwx is afraid lwj is cheating on him or just wants to break up with him, (he doesn't), marriage proposal, lwj acting distant = wwx's insecurities show up, fluff, angst and comfort)

Lan Zhan! Where are you lost today?” Wei Wuxian finally asks, at the end of his patience.

Lan Zhan looks a little guilty as he looks at Wei Wuxian, “Sorry, just a lot of work to deal with.”

Lie.

If there is one thing Lan Zhan can’t do, it’s lying. Especially to Wei Wuxian. But he doesn’t question Lan Zhan. He just accepts the reply, too scared to know that he is right. Too scared to know the truth.

// or where Lan Zhan is too hung up in planning the perfect proposal and ends up accidently ignoring Wei Wuxian making the other think that he wants to break up //

want you closer by xiaobucephalus ((3K, HORSES, only in the background tho, but wwx is an equestrian vet, which is so fucking valid bro, the lans own horses, a sick bunny, lwj the bunny parent!, super cute, dark bay throughoutbred chenqing is honestly so valid)

“Thank you,” Lan Zhan said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Don’t thank me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughed again, his voice warming the chill of fear that had settled in his chest. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to get into your hutch for a while anyway.”

safe in your thoughts by anonymous (20K, it's a cherry magic au???? (i haven't watched it, but you have i think?), horny lwj but only for wwx (always for wwx))

Wei Wuxian learns three very important things on the night of his twenty-seventh birthday.

One, that Lan Wangji is ridiculously funny, which Wei Wuxian had known before but what Wei Wuxain hadn’t expected was Lan Wangji to be funny at his brother’s expense.

Two, that Wei Wuxian had finally gone mad, absolutely mental at the ripe age of twenty seven because nothing else would explain the third thing he had learnt.

Third, and the most unbelievable of the lot, that Lan Wangji wants to fuck him.

iura by yoo_im_finally_writing (1K, only added bcs op is right and wwx would've the cutest german accent, it's more fun if you understand german so hit me up if you want translations for the german sentences)

Wei Ying calls in the middle of the night to talk about German law, and Lan Zhan tries very hard not to fall asleep. Or at least, not to let Wei Ying notice he's falling asleep. (As best friends do.)

breathe in the air, the last of its kind by wereworm / @neverdoingmuch (27K, getting together, jealous!lwj, but also kind of supportive, brief mention of cheating bcs of miscommunication, no actual cheating tho, college au, lwj pov)

Following Wei Ying’s line of sight, Lan Wangji can barely prevent a smile from crossing his lips when he sees the short row of rabbit statuettes placed at the front of the display. Silver, with bright gems for eyes, they look elegant yet lively and animated.

“A-Yuan would love one of those,” Wei Ying murmurs, almost as if to himself.

Lan Wangji frowns; the rabbits, while cute, don’t seem like a suitable gift for Wei Ying’s A-Yuan.

...

It’s only when he glances back at the rabbits and notices what has been placed on display behind them, that the pieces fall into place. They’re engagement rings, there’s no doubt about it. Lan Wangji feels his heart sink – Wei Ying isn’t just dating A-Yuan, he wants to propose to him.

Or: the five times Lan Wangji thinks that A-Yuan is Wei Ying’s boyfriend and the one time he learns the truth.

paint smears on sunny days by snowshadowao3 / @angstsexual (53K, getting together, art teacher!wwx, single parent!lwj, they're rich if i remember right, wwx & lwj are both good with kids!!!, this is so good actually, fluff)

To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

He comes close, though.

By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.

(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

no bunny compares by gusucloudbunny (4K, god this is cute, fluff)

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cornered his friend one week before his birthday. “If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

Lan Wangji furrowed his brow at Wei Wuxian, not exactly sure how to answer that question in a truthful manner that didn’t involve confessing his undying love for his best friend.

Wei Wuxian is on a mission to get Lan Wangji the perfect gift for his birthday. What Wei Wuxian doesn't know is that the only thing Lan Wangji truly wants is him.

wei wuxian's week of realizing things by photojenny (12K, i have read this multiple times, i always forget what happens, idk why but my notes say it's good, the tags say drunkji makes an appearance and i'm always up for that)

"Lan Zhan, do you like Mianmian?" asked Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji blinked, and stared. It was not the first time Lan Wangji had questioned the perceptiveness of the boy he had a crush on. Wei Wuxian had been smart in the class they had taken together. Yet time and time again, Wei Wuxian had tested the old wisdom that there are no stupid questions.

---

Lan Wangji must figure out how to confess when Wei Wuxian is the most oblivious person he's ever met.

are you my wisdom tooth? because i'd like to take you out by yellowcarnations (1K, crack, fluff, lwj stop flirting with a stranger, even if he is your husband, drunkji but make it to max level)

Lan Zhan wakes up and he has no idea where he is.

There are bright lights and his jaw hurts, he doesn't who this man next to his bed is but oh he might be in love, maybe, probably, definitely.

–

based off that guy-forgets-who-his-wife-is-and-hits-on-her vid but its wangxian.

beep! goes his heart by wearing_tearing (3K, fluff, lwj is like "he, he likes me right? he likes me" and everyone is like "yes, yes he does")

“Wei Ying’s heart monitor,” Lan Wangji starts.

Wen Qing blinks at him. “Yes?”

“It beeps.”

“That’s… what they generally do, yes.”

“The beeps change,” Lan Wangji continues, “when others are around.”

Wei Ying’s heart only sings for Lan Wangji.

canon

obedient and bellicose by thunderwear (19K, lwj is cursed by the lan elders, they notice too late, fix-it fic kind of?, lqr being a good uncle and lxc is a good brother, wwx accidentally uses the curse but he doesn't know about it)

It took Lan Wangji a long time to realize he was cursed. Too long really, anyone else would have noticed so much sooner. The problem was, he liked following the rules.

Ella Enchanted AU that no one needed but I wanted.

hello my old heart, how have you been? by ravenditefairylights (10K, amnesia, fluff, wwx taking care of lwj, so much fluff and softness, angst too but not that much)

The issue is, Lan Wangji brings his thoughts back before they stray too far, that it is impossible for someone to be in his bed, unless Lan Wangji himself invited them. He has not. He would remember doing so, and besides, all his night clothes are still on and there is no headache to imply that he was inebriated last night. No, the situation is simple.

There is someone in Lan Wangji’s bed. It is impossible for anyone to be in Lan Wangji’s bed, and yet that doesn’t seem to have stopped the stranger.

or lan wangji wakes up, and wei ying is there. he doesn't understand how or why, and he can understand even less why his hallucination of wei ying is so insistent on bathing him, and braiding his hair, on holding him and fixing his clothes. why the hallucination of wei ying seems so happy to see him.

teach me the way by likeafox (58K, rogue cultivator!wwx, horny wangxian, lwj wants wwx to teach him how to be a good lover, ....wwx is a virgin, the porn is the plot, but there's less of it than i thought)

"I do not wish to leave my future spouse… dissatisfied with my intimate knowledge,” Lan Zhan says, very seriously. “I am hoping to find an instructor, to better prepare myself for such matters."

Wei Ying feels his mouth drop open. He's pretty sure the Second Jade of Lan just told him he's a virgin who wants to learn how to do sex good.

Rogue Cultivator Wei Wuxian is the stuff of local legends. Some of those legends are even true! The ones about his tremendous experience in bed, on the other hand, are not so true. Which becomes a problem when Lan Wangji, on the verge of an arranged marriage and worried he won’t know how to please his future spouse, enlists Wei Ying's help to teach him the art of love-making. Wei Ying's great at improvisation, though, and is pretty sure he's got this sex mentor thing under control. What could possibly go wrong

other aus

of god: my love unholy by tunnelodfawn (3K, tw blood / war, dark!lwj, god!wwx, kind of poetry)

Lan Zhan takes everything as a sign from his god. The blood staining his fingertips—a holy anointment. He sanctifies himself through blood. The strings of his guqin gleam red in the sun—a divine blessing. This is an instrument of destruction. A single note—a cry of power—and in this note the voice of his god unravels the earthly threads tethering man to earth.

The Yiling Patriarch blesses Lan Zhan with war. Wei Wuxian blesses Lan Zhan with agility. Wei Ying blesses Lan Zhan with love.

The base of the Yiling Patriarch’s shrine is the home of Lan Zhan’s knees. He worships. There is something of the blasphemous and the unholy in his prayers. He prays not for victory but for the sight of Wei Ying. Bless me with your presence, he begs.

Or, wherein, Lan Zhan bridges the gap between the mortal and the divine—the worshipper and the god—with blood.

the river and the sea by sasamelons / @sasamelons (7K, soulmate au, arranged marriage (wangxian with each other), they're both kind of dumb but i love it)

Lan Wangji gritted his teeth, wishing to just be left alone. "I am looking for my soulmate," he ground out.

"Oh."

It took Lan Wangji a few moments to realize that Wei Wuxian had stopped following him. When he looked back, the other boy seemed to be frozen to the spot, eyes wide and lips still parted. He quickly looked away when he saw Lan Wangji looking back. "I see. Well, have a good trip!"

At six years old, Lan Zhan met his soulmate on the streets of Yiling and promptly lost him again.

At sixteen years old, Lan Wangji met his betrothed and was determined not to like him.

#so...i realized i forgot to check the things i already listed but? i tried to avoid listing fics twice?#yes i've mostly been reading oneshots these past few weeks idk why but i can't seem to find any long fics #or at least not ones that i like #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #wangxian fics #mdzs #mdzs fic #cql fic #the untamed #aamna tag #we're almost through the rec list now? i have so much open but idk why i add so few #i'm just really picky when it comes to which ones to write down and which ones not #and then this became a kind of comfort list?#idk?#but also ANGST #not Angst but ANGST #fun fact: Angst means fear in german

106 notes · View notes