#fluffy fanfic

[thesecondhandwoman]

Hi! Im usually too embarrassed to send requests but- maybe Ambessa with assistant reader? Whose so sweet and awkward and tries her best to help and follow ambessa around- (if it's not too much reader is from the undercity and worked hard to try and be were she is now)

HER LITTLE ASSISTANT

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: You never fully grasped at the fact you had been chosen as Ambessa’s personal assistant, a simple girl who had climbed high from the Undercity. But now that you had the chance, you weren’t gonna give it up, no matter how nervous you may be.

Request: Anon 🤍

The Medarda estate in Noxus was every bit as imposing as its mistress. A sprawling fortress of crimson stone and black iron, it loomed over the city like a sentinel, unyielding and proud. It was fitting, then, that the woman who ruled within it was just as formidable.

You were not.

Trailing behind Ambessa Medarda as her assistant, you often felt like a tiny sparrow struggling to keep pace with a hawk. She strode through the halls with her characteristic confidence, her long strides and the sharp clink of her armor an unrelenting tempo you scrambled to match.

Your arms were laden with reports, a satchel bouncing awkwardly against your hip. You’d learned early on that Noxian efficiency left no room for mistakes, and as someone who’d clawed their way out of Zaun’s undercity, failure wasn’t an option.

“Keep up, little one,” Ambessa called over her shoulder, her tone teasing yet commanding.

“Yes, ma’am,” you chirped, nearly tripping as you hurried to close the gap.

She stopped abruptly, turning to watch as you skidded to a halt in front of her. Her sharp eyes swept over you, taking in your disheveled appearance and flushed cheeks.

“Well, I did not mean keep up by falling,” she chuckled, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Just breathe.”

“I—yes, of course,” you stammered, clutching the reports tighter. “Sorry, Lady Medarda.”

Her brow arched. “Ambessa. You’ve been working for me long enough to drop the formalities.”

“Right. Ambessa,” you repeated, though the name felt far too intimate on your tongue.

She seemed satisfied and gestured for you to follow. “Good. Now, let’s see if you’ve organized these reports properly.”

Ambessa’s days were relentless, filled with strategy meetings, inspections, and commanding the loyalty of those around her. You followed her through it all, your hands busy with ledgers and maps, your mind spinning as you tried to keep up with her sharp wit.

Despite your nerves, you’d started to notice small things about her. The way she rolled her shoulders after a long meeting. The faint smile that tugged at her lips when something amused her. The occasional soft glance she directed your way when she thought you weren’t looking.

She wasn’t cruel, not to you. Stern, yes. Intimidating? Always. But there was a softness to her that you suspected few ever saw. It was in the way she ensured you ate during long days, how she subtly slowed her pace when she noticed you struggling to keep up.

And sometimes, her touch lingered just a moment too long.

Like now.

The two of you stood in her private study, the soft glow of the hearth casting flickering shadows across the room. You were handing her a report when her fingers brushed yours. It was the barest of touches, but it sent a jolt through you.

“You’re trembling,” she remarked, her voice low and teasing.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered, quickly pulling your hand back.

She chuckled, setting the report aside. “Relax, little one. You’ve done well today.”

Her praise was rare and precious, and you couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through your chest. “Thank you, Ambessa. I just want to make sure I don’t disappoint you.”

Her expression softened, and for a moment, the weight of her armor seemed to lift. “You could never disappoint me.”

Like the others, the following days brought more of the same: relentless work, fleeting touches, and a growing tension that neither of you addressed.

Ambessa was always close, closer than necessary, you thought. When reviewing maps, she would stand behind you, her breath warm against your ear as she pointed out key locations. Her hand would sometimes rest on your shoulder, firm and reassuring.

It wasn’t inappropriate, but it was enough to make your heart race and your thoughts spiral. Did she even realize what she was doing to you?

One evening, as you prepared tea in the estate’s kitchen, Ambessa entered unexpectedly. You jumped, nearly dropping the kettle.

“Ambessa! I didn’t hear you,” you said, clutching the counter for support.

“I noticed,” she said with a smirk. “What are you doing down here?”

“I—well, I thought you might like some tea. You’ve been working so hard, and I just…” You trailed off, your cheeks burning.

Her expression softened, and she stepped closer. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

You swallowed hard as she took the kettle from your hands, her fingers brushing yours again. Her touch lingered, warm and deliberate.

“You’re too kind, little one,” she said softly, her gaze locking with yours.

Your heart thundered in your chest. “I just want to help.”

She smiled—a rare, genuine smile that made your knees weak. “You do more than help. You keep me grounded.

The tipping point came on a quiet night, weeks later. The day had been exhausting, and you were both in her study, the fire crackling softly as you worked through a final stack of documents.

Ambessa set her quill down, leaning back in her chair as she regarded you thoughtfully. “You’ve worked hard today. Come here.”

You hesitated, unsure of what she meant.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” she said, though her tone was more amused than stern.

You approached her cautiously, standing awkwardly in front of her chair. She reached out, her hands settling on your hips as she guided you to sit on the edge of the desk.

“Ambessa?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Shh,” she murmured, her thumbs brushing small circles against your sides.

Her touch was firm yet gentle, grounding you in a way that made your breath hitch. Her gaze was softer than you’d ever seen it, and the tension that had been simmering between you for weeks finally broke.

“I’ve been patient,” she said, her voice low and intimate. “But I can’t ignore this anymore.”

You blinked, your heart pounding. “Ignore what?”

“The way I feel about you,” she admitted, her honesty stealing the air from your lungs.

Your lips parted, but no words came. She cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin as she leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

When her lips met yours, it was soft and tentative, as though she was afraid of overwhelming you. Her kiss was surprisingly gentle for someone so strong, her touch careful and reverent.

You melted into her, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as the world fell away.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm against your skin.

“Tell me I’m not wrong,” she murmured, her voice laced with vulnerability.

“You’re not,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure.

She smiled, her eyes holding a tenderness that made your chest ache. “Good.”

She slowly leaned back in, allowing her lips to ghost against yours once more. “Then let me continue to show my love for you.” She breathed before her lips captured yours again.

A/N: kinda mad I made this so short, but I hope it’s okay!!

[icycoldninja]

FLUFFCEMBER DAY #19: (Vil x Reader)

Affirmations

"Honey," You hear Vil croon from across the room, where he was applying his eyeliner.

"Yes?" You replied, trying to mimic his questioning, sing-song tone.

"Do you think I'm beautiful?" What kind of a question was that, you wondered, as you slowly spun around to face him.

"Say that again?" You asked, staring at him with wide eyes. Fearing the worst, Vil paused his pampering, looked you straight in the eyes with his purple ones, and repeated,

"Do you think I'm beautiful?" He said this with such genuine curiosity, you couldn't help but freeze and blink at him for a few seconds in confusion. Vil studied you and your reaction for a few moments before his growing impatience began to show on his face. "Well?"

"Are you kidding me?!" You then exploded. "Of course I think you're beautiful--that shouldn't even be a question! I only tell you four hundred times a day! Who would make you of all people doubt yourself?" Your tone suddenly switched from incredulous to angry. "Who or what made you think that you're anything other than drop dead gorgeous?"

The next few seconds were spent in silence while both of you took time to process what just happened. You needed a minute to realize you had just delivered the most aggressive compliment ever heard, and Vil wasn't sure whether you were mad at him for doubting himself or just really enthusiastic.

"Oh," He finally chuckled, turning slightly pink. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," You responded awkwardly, turning away. "It's true, by the way." You blurted out that last part before you could think twice, and you didn't regret it.

"I see," Vil murmured, returning to preening himself in the mirror. "I'm quite flattered you think so. One can have all the admirers in the world, but there's only one person whose opinion really matters."

"You don't have anything to worry about," You told him, smirking a little at his words. "You're prettier than anyone else I know. You don't have to worry about what they think of you."

"I don't," Vil smiled. "I care about what you think."

"I'm honored, but there's no need." You returned, sheepishly scratching your head. "I'm not really fit to be judging others, especially you."

"No!" Vil abruptly cried, dropping the eyebrow pencil he was holding. "You need to give yourself more credit. I trust your judgement more than Rook's. Yes, I know he is very precise, but there's something so charming about honest, heartfelt opinions. The kind that you give me."

You really should have said something equally profound and stirring, but you found yourself speechless for the time being, capable only of muttering broken sentences and blushing furiously. Vil gave you a fond glance, batted his eyelashes, then focused all his attention on applying lipstick. In the end, you decided to cross the room and express yourself by giving him a hug from behind, which did not surprise him in the slightest because he saw you approaching in the mirror. He was, in fact, quite touched, and gave you a few pats on the head with his free hand, and once he deemed his makeup finished, he turned around and gave you a kiss on the forehead.

"I love you," He giggled, pulling away and cupping your cheeks. You were honestly expecting him to call you something potato related; surprised that he hadn't. Good, because it felt derogatory being compared to a vegetable, but you couldnt tell him that because it would break his heart to learn you detested his little nickname. "I really do" He repeated, "My sweet little potato."

And here you were hoping he wouldn't say it. Damn.

[bunnis-monsters]

You get sick, and your two vampire boyfriends who haven’t been humans in centuries are scrambling around trying to figure out how to help you feel better.

“Should we drink from her? Bloodletting was a popular method of curing the ill in my time.”

Your other boyfriend blinked at the first incredulously. “Are you stupid? Hasn’t that been disproven for years now?”

“It was supposed to get the bad blood out! What if we’ve contaminated her with our depravity and now her human soul is in peril!?”

“She’s sneezing, not shriveling into a pile of dust.”

You are too amused to help them at first, watching as they fret over you and place their cool hands on your head, but soon you need some food and medicine to keep yourself from getting anymore ill.

“Just… some soup and Tylenol… that’s all I need…”

As quick as possible, they prepare you a bowl of (questionable) soup. It’s edible enough, and the Tylenol helps with your fever.

As you finally drift off, your lovers curl up with you, watching you as you sleep. They cling to your chubby form, using your low fever to warm themselves, and their cool bodies to keep your from getting too hot.

They have much researching to do, never wanting to be clueless about your needs again.

———————

SFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @peachesdabunny @misswonderfrojustice @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @zyettemoon1800 @kassandra-hawthorne @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @readeryn68 @danielle143 @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @hammerhead96-blog @bubblez-blop

[hotchsofficialwifey]

mike bf request :>

abby and reader having a girls day talking about boys and it being super cute! and mike being annoyed about all this he doesnt want abby to grow up it makes him upset she’s starting to find interest in boys in her class 😞🙈

this request is so cute, i'm obsessed! bf mike >>>

"oh yeah?" you tease gently, looking up from your drawing. "what's his name?"

"luke!" abby admits, excited but somewhat embarrassed. "he's really nice! he shared his halloween candy with me last week!"

you had been dating mike for about two months, but you had been babysitting abby for many more. in the months you had known her, the two of you had grown really close; and on this particular day, when the both of you were hunched over the living room coffee table, drawing and watching her favorite cartoon, she admitted she had a crush on a boy from her school.

you thought it was really cute, and you felt ever-so-slightly proud that you were the first person she told. mike was sitting at the dining table and, unbeknownst to you, listening to the conversation. you didn't realize he was upset until you got up to get a glass of water and saw him with his eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed.

"you good, mike?" you asked after taking a sip.

"yeah." he huffed out. you love mike with all your heart, but he is quite possibly the least subtle person you know.

"c'mon, what's up?" you take a seat next to him at the table. he sighs heavily, before explaining:

"i just think she's too young for all this boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. after all we've been through? after all she's been through? i don't know, I just-I just don't think she should be worrying about that stuff." you smiled softly, finding his concern really sweet. one of the things that you found most attractive about mike was how well he treated his little sister, especially after everything that happened at the pizzeria.

"well, i can assure you she's not worried about anything. she just thinks he's cute, which is totally normal for a girl her age! i started having crushes around that age too, it's really no big deal. you don't need to worry so much, mike, she's smart enough to know how to deal with this stuff."

he contemplated for a second, absorbing your words before the tension in his forehead and eyebrows melted.

"yeah...yeah, I guess you're right. sorry, i just don't want her growing up so fast. sometimes i wish i could put a brick on her head to stop her from growing." you both let out an airy giggle.

"yeah, me too. but she'll always be your little sister, whether she likes it or not."

"yeah," he replied, watching abby draw in the distance. "yeah, she'll always be my little sister."

[minnophee-writes]

Right Where You Were Meant To Be

Fandom: Avengers [Marvel]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size Reader

Summary: The reader has a crush on Bucky the second she looked at him but she also has feelings of self-consciousness about her body and doubts she’d ever end up with Bucky or any guy like Bucky. That all changes one night at one of Tony’s parties.

Word Count: 2,760 words

A/N: This is a cute little one-shot idea I had and just wanted to write out. I feel there aren’t many plus-size!reader stories so I wanted to make my own. I’m a chubby girl and felt like I needed some love, lmao. Any mistakes I take responsibility for, this story wasn’t beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!! <3 <3 <3 [edit: this is an old fanfic lol]

It all started when you looked at him for the first time. He had just moved into the Tower, and you had just gotten the job as Tony's new assistant since Pepper had become CEO of Stark Industries. Because you worked in an environment with superheroes who were very fit and healthy, you had become self-conscious of yourself; whether it would be what you wore, the things you ate, or just how your body looked in general.

Being a bigger girl, it often took a toll on your mental health when you would notice the glances, the whispering, the judgmental stares, and how shopping for clothes in your size was difficult, and it made you feel like you had to lose weight to fit in and belong. You felt alone and isolated.

You didn't have any friends; you didn't even talk to many of your co-workers, and just kept to yourself a majority of the time. When Bucky moved in, you noticed he did the same. He didn't speak much to the rest of the team, he mostly stayed in his room, and only hung around Steve. Bucky was very fit, and his muscular body showed it whenever he wore tight-fitted clothing. You would never wear tight-fitted clothing for fear of having your plumpness accentuated.

After five months working for Tony and having a more friendly relationship with the rest of the team, you had built a few close bonds with some of the heroes. Wanda and Natasha were your closest girlfriends and would regularly have 'Lady's Nights' every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Tony, Clint, Sam, and Steve were like your older brothers and would look out for you.

You and Steve made it a routine to do small exercise and yoga in the afternoons just after 4 o'clock. How this all started was because you wanted to accomplish small goals for yourself, as Sam told you to do to help with your mental health.

"Steve," You called out as you stepped into the Tower's gym, the one place you knew where to find Steve if he wasn't in the common room.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)! What's up?" Steve turned to face you as he held the punching bag still while he watched you walk closer to him, noticing you fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

"I just... I wanted to start doing light exercises, you know, to boost my endorphins, and so I have something to do in the afternoons when I've finished with work." It wasn't a complete lie, but it just sugar-coated the fact that you just wanted to lose weight to gain confidence in yourself.

Steve had agreed to help you; he wouldn't push you too much either because he didn't want you to strain anything and not push you out of your comfort zone too much. Both of you would exercise for an hour each day in the afternoons. This routine had been going on for six weeks, and you were enjoying it. You felt better about yourself each week when you would check your progress and write down how much you lost during the week; you were more confident than you were all those weeks ago before asking Steve for help.

During one of those afternoon exercises, you and Steve were both in the Adho Mukha pose with Steve wearing his usual tight t-shirt, that you swore was a size too small, and shorts while you wore a loose, black tank top, and tight-fitted leggings that complemented the shape of your plump ass. You were so in the zone that you hadn't heard the gym doors open and the sound of footsteps coming closer to you. Bucky stood behind you and Steve, him getting an eyeful of your butt while he cleared his throat to catch his best friend's attention.

"Hey, Bucky! I didn't notice you were there. (Y/N) and I were doing some yoga, would you like to join us?"

You. Were. Mortified. You quickly stood up beside Steve and looked down at your feet, trying to avoid looking at Bucky after having your ass practically in his face.

"Uh, I kinda have to get ready for 'Girl's Night' tonight, but I think Bucky can keep you company." You nervously spoke, having your words jumble out quickly due to your inner-embarrassment. "I'll see you later, Steve!"

You bolted out of the gym as fast as your legs could go and made it up into your room without another incident. When you flopped onto your bed, you let out a loud, exhausted sigh before closing your eyes shut tightly. 'Why did I have to act like a nervous wreck? You didn't even let him talk for Christ's sake!' After beating yourself up over the little incident, you started to get ready for 'Girl's Night' with Nat and Wanda.

~~~~~~

It was two hours into 'Girl's Night' and you, Nat and Wanda had, at least, drank four glasses of Kraken Rum and about three shots of Vodka. You were more relaxed and carefree, enjoying your time with your best friends while gossiping about an episode of Criminal Minds you all saw the other day together.

"Not gonna lie, I would love to have a man like Morgan. Have you seen his muscles? And how he kicks down doors like a badass?" You gushed.

"That is true, and I fully believe Morgan and Garcia should be together. They have chemistry and look so cute!" Wanda loved her Morgan and Garcia ship.

"Eh, I like to have a super cute genius but that's just my opinion" Nat took a sip of her fruity vodka drink while shrugging her shoulders.

"Of course you would, you're with Bruce and that's a little bias, Nat." You gently shoved your red-haired friend playfully.

You and Wanda giggled like school girls when Natasha scoffed before she pointed an accusing finger at you.

"Well, says you, (Y/N)! You practically drool whenever you see Barnes."

That shut you up quickly. 'How does she know?! Play it off...'

"That's very funny Nat, but I don't know what you mean."

"Don't bullshit me, (Y/N). I've seen the way your cheeks get all pink and how your eyes are glued to him whenever he walks by. You're so smitten it's grossly cute." Then Wanda turned to you with a small smirk on her face.

"Maybe you should ask him to work out with you and Steve!"

Flashbacks of your embarrassment earlier that day made your face go pale. 'Absolutely not'. You shook your head furiously, staring at your two friends with fear. There was no way you'd have the guts to do such a thing, not after how you acted around him before. Plus, you didn't want him to look at you with disgust when he looks at you working out. You shake off all the negative thoughts before finishing off your last bits of rum.

"I think I'm going to head off to bed now, gotta wake up early tomorrow. Tony wants me to help him organize and plan a gala party to celebrate his newest project. And when I say to 'help him' I mean I'll be doing most of the work while he hides away in his lab with Bruce." You said before walking off and waving the girls goodbye.

2 weeks later...

You had most of the gala planned out. You had booked a cute catering company to organize some food dishes for everyone and even hired a group of people to decorate one of the large common rooms that would fit all the guests on Tony's guest-list. You had even bought a cute new dress to wear for the party. The party was starting that night at 7:30 and you would hopefully get everything done while having an hour and a half to spare to get ready.

When the decorating and planning finished, you quickly made your way to your room and got showered and changed. You stood in front of your mirror for quite some time, nitpicking every flaw you could see, judging your appearance because you knew how the other women at the party were going to look flawless and have every man swooping in for them. A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your negative thoughts.

"(Y/n), you ready?" Wanda's voice called from the other side.

"Y-yeah! I'm coming now." You dashed for the door to get away from the mirror so you can't put yourself down even more. Once opening the door, Wanda linked your arm with hers, and both of you walked toward the elevator.

Telling FRIDAY which floor, you both arrived just as a few of the guests were mingling around; drinking, eating, and chatting. You glanced around, hoping to see the familiar faces of your friends, spotting Sam, Nat, and Clint near the bar where Natasha was serving the drinks. Tony was standing next to Pepper and being an absolute flirt as always while Steve and Bucky were standing near a corner with drinks in hand. Before you could make your way over to the bar, Wanda told you to wait where you were while she goes to quickly touch up her make-up, disappearing before you could say a word. You stood there awkwardly and looked around, making sure everything was going swimmingly until you felt a presence behind you. A tap on your confirmed that someone was indeed behind you.

You turned around to see a group of two slender women and three muscular men staring at you with smug and cocky smiles on their faces.

"Can we get some more drinks? And make them with a little more alcohol this time." One of the men quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to scurry off to grab their drinks.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not part of catering. I'm-"

"You certainly look it though, I mean, you're not dressed like you're here as a guest. The dress you're wearing looks like the other catering staff." A woman spat, her eyes narrowed at you. You started to feel self-conscious about your outfit now, realizing the color-scheme looked very similar to the catering staff.

"Plus, the dress isn't that flattering for your body hun. We can practically see your muffin top and panty lines with how tight that dress is on you." The other woman commented while she leaned to the side to glance at more of your plush figure.

A stinging sensation began to appear behind your eyes, feelings of doubt, and an anxiety attack began to make themselves known. So looked away from the group and quickly made for the elevator, shooting Wanda a quick text saying you weren't feeling too well. 'How stupid of me to think I even looked good or that I could fit in at the party.' By the time the elevator doors reached your floor and the doors opened, hot tears were falling down your cheeks as you tried to furiously wipe them away with zero results. The tears kept flowing down as you began to walk down the hallway to your room; quiet footsteps barely making noise as they followed you. Just as your hand settled on the door handle, a warm hand clasped onto your shoulder gently. With a yelp, you spun around with a jump to look at your "attacker", only to find a pair of stormy blue eyes staring at your teary eyes intensely.

Bucky's eyes held hints of concern and worry, but it was hard to see because he was good at hiding his emotions, and the fact that your eyes were blurry from crying.

"You okay, (Y/n)? I saw you leave the party quickly and noticed how fast your breathing was." Bucky had to look down at you because he was so tall, or was it because you were just very short?

"I'm fine, Bucky. I just don't do well in crowded places or with so many strangers. I got a bit overwhelmed but it's fine now." You weakly smiled but he could see right through it, he always did.

"You had a panic attack after speaking to a group of people and judging by the looks they gave you while talking to them, I can only believe it wasn't a pleasant conversation." Bucky then brought both his flesh and metal hands to cup your face while he peered into your eyes more. "Tell me what happened, doll."

You sighed, you knew he wasn't going to let this go. Even though you both barely spoke to each other, he still cared for you like the both of you knew each other for years. Something about his calm voice and caring nature helped your nerves settle.

"They thought I was part of catering and asked if I could get them more drinks. I told them I wasn't catering, only for them to make snarky comments about my outfit and body. But it's fine, I'm used to having those comments made to me, I've dealt with those types of people all my life." Your hands gently held his and tried to move them away from your face but Bucky didn't budge.

"You don't believe them, right? I mean, I think the dress looks good on you. It shows off your curves and any man who doesn't get blown away is blind."

You gave a humorless laugh and shook your head at Bucky, looking down at the floor.

"You're just saying that to be nice to me, Buck. We both know girls like me don't belong in a place like this, or a party like that. You can go back to the party, I don't want to waste more of your time." You went to turn away when Bucky held your upper arms tightly.

"Not a chance, doll. I'm not a fan of crowds myself and was about to leave the party myself until I saw you run away. I'd rather spend my time with you and making sure you don't ever think that you don't belong."

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, his stare was intense with adoration and love while you stared at him in shock that he'd want to spend time with you. Before you could blink, Bucky leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours, his arms wrapping around you and caging you into a warm and gentle embrace. Your hands rested onto his firm chest while his hands rested on your lower back, just above your butt. At first, you were in shock but then you gave in to the kiss and snaked your arms around his neck, your fingers embedded into his long hair.

The kiss was full of passion, and so much love that you didn't think it was possible. When the need for air was too much, you both separated and looked into each other's eyes once again.

"H-how? Why me? We barely know each other!"

"Because, (Y/n), I've been smitten for you since I first laid eyes on you but didn't have the guts to tell you. Steve's been a punk and trying to get me to join your work out sessions for weeks but I was too nervous to do it." Bucky's cheeks tinted red as he chuckled.

"And why's that? I was scared that if saw me working out, that you'd be grossed out by my body." You explained, chewing on your bottom lip.

"I could never be grossed out, sweetheart. I love a woman with curves and plumpness to her. I was nervous that if I watched you work out, I would try to make a move on you too fast and scare you away. I didn't want that to happen." Bucky grabbed your chin and leaned in again, his lips almost touching yours. "And you looked downright sexy in those tights, they shape your ass well."

You gasped and lightly smacked his shoulder while he smirked at you. His playfulness coming through. You made the first move this time and got onto your tippy toes to kiss him. It was quicker than the first but still held the same emotions. With so much strength you underestimated he had, Bucky lifted you up - your legs wrapped around his waist - as he opened your door and carried you over to your bedroom. Both of you watched a bunch of movies in your room; many kisses were shared before you both passed out, cuddled up under your fluffy blankets, safe in Bucky's arms. 

Right where you were meant to be all along.

[thesillymask]

D-Do I see Abel?

....

Can I request an Abel x Female Reader where the reader comforts Ab after a stressful day at work?

Yes! You see our beloved boy Abel! By the way, sorry for the delay! The last few months have been a bit busy for me.

Soft as wool, sweet as honey

Abel x Fem!Winner!Reader (Relationship established)

Genre: fluffy

⚠️warnings:Psychological pressure, possible triggers

Abel never wanted this to be honest, he never wanted to be the new leader of the exorcists. he just agreed to it to continue his father's legacy, even though his father doesn't give a damn about him.

To say he was nervous was an understatement, he was very anxious about the whole thing. Being the leader of the exorcists is a very high position and he was not at all prepared for it. He had to have an extremely long conversation with Sera about the rules and his duties as the new leader, in addition to having to train for hours to have some combat skills. And let's not even mention the paperwork, dammit! What's the need for so many documents!? Couldn't he just write down his name and make it official?

And if that wasn't enough the next day he had more work, and very early! He spent almost the entire day hiring new exorcists and running after new angelic weapons. That job really wasn't for him... But he couldn't give up now! Not when all the seraphim were counting on him and the exorcists needed new members and a new leader after the disaster of the last extermination. He had to do it, it was his duty... He needed to...

Once his work was finally done, he stretched and gave an exhausted sigh. He then gets up from the chair he was in and leaves his office. He locks his door, a tired look on his face as he takes off the mask, fixing his hair.

— "god... What a tiring day..."

He mutters to himself and then spreads his wings, flapping them lightly and then starting to fly. He must have to fly a lot until he finally gets to his house, after all his father's office (which was now his) was very far from where he lived. He gently opens the door, closing it behind him as he lets out a soft groan of frustration. he is then greeted by (name), his girlfriend, his gaze softening as he saw her

— "Honeybun... Hi..."

He gives a slight smile when he sees her, placing his mask on a nearby piece of furniture and hugs her, wrapping her in his arms while muttering softly. (name) notices his tired behavior and gently strokes his back.

— "hey Abel... How was work today?"

She asks, a hint of concern in her voice. She barely saw him all day and was thinking about him all day. Abel just nods and lets out a sigh, before breaking the hug.

— "It was... It was good... I think..."

He said softly, his shoulders slumping as he looked away. It was clear he didn't want to worry her, but it was obvious how stressed he was at that moment. (name)'s gaze softens and she puts her hands on his shoulders Abel, making him look at her

— "You don't look well... Do you want to sit down and talk a little?"

She says with a warm expression, wanting Abel to know that she was there for him. Abel looks at him for a few seconds before nodding slowly. She takes Abel into the living room, sitting next to him on the sofa. Abel was looking down, avoiding looking at her. She notices his tension and reaches out to touch his arm.

— "hey... Look at me..."

(name) says in a soft, sweet tone. Abel hesitates for a moment before looking at her, his eyes looking at her, you could see he looked agitated.

— "Tell me... Was work very stressful for you?"

(name) asks, her eyes never leaving his face. Abel lets out a sigh and nods, looking down at the ground again.

— "yeah... I had to endure over and over job interviews with so many candidates... There were so many and I was so agitated... They looked so serious and had a blank look in their eyes... Also I had to look for new angelic weapons for the new exorcists... I had to order several of them..."

He says in a frustrated tone, his hands clasped together as his fingers press together a little tighter, a sign of how nervous and overwhelmed he is. (name) looks at him with a soft and understanding look, I understand how stressful the day must have been. her hand moves down his arm to his hand, holding it

— "It must have been too much for you..."

(name) stops talking for a moment, before speaking again.

— "You know you don't have to do this, right?..."

— "Of course I do... Everyone is counting on me... I can't let them down now... I can't give up now..."

Abel says, turning to look at her, his brow slightly furrowed as he looked away. (name) reaches her other hand to Abel's face, cupping his cheek and turning his head to look at her.

— "I understand that you don't want to disappoint others... But if you don't want that... You can't force yourself to do it..."

Abel just lets out another sigh, burying his face in his hands.

— "I know I know... I just... I'm just tired... I'll be fine, I promise..."

He then takes his hands off his face and looks at her

— "I just need to recover..."

He says, trying to reassure her and convince her that everything was okay. (name) looks at him, seeing that Abel needed comfort more than anything. she suddenly pulls him into a hug, holding him close and stroking his back

— "ok... If that's what it takes..."

She says in a low, soft tone, making Abel feel a warmth in his chest. He hugs her back and buries his face in her shoulder, closing his eyes as he enjoys the feeling.

— "thank you... thank you very much... I needed this..."

he says, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck as he holds her close. They stay hugging like that until (name) has an idea and lies down on the couch, pulling him along. Abel lets out a soft cry of surprise, before relaxing and burying his face in her chest, letting out a soft sigh of relief. (name) begins to gently stroke his hair, humming sweetly.

— "Comfortable?"

she asked, earning a nod and a soft, muffled 'mhm' from Abel. an affectionate smile and continues to caress his hair, her fingers snaking through the strands, feeling the softness and smoothness. they sit in peaceful silence until Abel suddenly speaks

— "hey cinnamonpie"

he says quietly, earning a curious look from (name)

— "yeah?"

— "I love you..."

— "I love You too..."

Here it is! I'm sorry if it wasn't what you wanted. I really tried my best

I'm so happy to be the first to do an Abel x reader, I love him so much! I want to hug him and never let him go 💖

[hype-blue-fixation]

RadioRose Week - Day 4 Roses/Smiles - Giggles On Air

Rosie gives Alastor's broadcast the energy it needs using some tickles and tender love

SFW! About 1700 words

It was nearly time for the nightly broadcast, but tonight would be a bit more…high stakes. For weeks Rosie had been begging to be a part of a broadcast, and the host had a creative way of incorporating her. The rules were simple.

1. Don't interrupt while he's speaking.

2. No hard touches or grabbing.

3. No pain or sudden distractions.

After he took a seat, Rosie sat under his desk. Resting her hands on his knees and leaning her head on his thigh. “I bet I can make you start whining in 5 minutes.” She said with her signature grin.

Alastor's expression couldn't be more flat. “Of course you can, darling.” His tone sounded dismissive as he shuffled his papers and flipped on the switch. “Good afternoon wayward sinners!” 

The broadcast began. First with the usual announcements for upcoming events in the pentagram, with a biased highlight on CannibalTown. Rosie smiled up as he babbled on about the wonderful things and lathered her little corner of Hell with sweet words. Her hands on his knees began scratching soft circles. His leg jumped a bit at the touch, but overall went unaffected. That didn't stop her from doing the loving gesture on both sides at once.

Her hands slowly crept behind his knees. Once again making his legs shuffle strangely, but nothing beyond that. If anything, it sounded like he was getting more relaxed in his words. Speaking with extra enthusiasm and energy. Shooting glances down at her. Challenging glances that dared her to do her worst already. As much as she would have loved to start humbling that attitude, she was a woman who understood the reward of patience and strategy.

The teasing walked up his thighs and rested at his hips. Scratching away at the divets that were so beautifully easy to reach through his high-waisted pants. His hips did a small dance at the initial touch, but he was able to steel himself. Keep his body still and his voice going. Rosie raised her brows playfully. “They can't hear me, can they?” her voice barely rose above a whisper but it was enough for Alastor’s ears to flick towards it. He shook his head at her. Beautiful.

“Since they can't hear me and I'm not interrupting you…” she talked, making it sound like she was speaking to herself, “I still think I can make you whine soon. I know the spots that make your mind turn to mush. Like your pretty little tummy…especially that belly button.” His stomach instinctively sucked in. A full body jolt as she gently rubbed over it. “Shh, shh…I'm not that mean. I'll save it for last.”

Alastor shot her another glance. This one more annoyed than anything. 

“What's wrong? Do you wish I'd go for that first? I can always change plans.”

As her hands snaked to the sides of his belly, he flew to grab her wrists. His grip tight, but not enough to distract from his lovely broadcast. His voice was chipper as usual, laced with cheesy humor and faked laughter at his own terrible jokes. 

“If you let my hands go, I could make you laugh for real. Really sell it for the audience. Not that fake thing you do to make it seem funny.”

His annoyed glare sharpened. Hands did not let go.

“But I'm a woman of my word. Belly last. Right now I wanna explore somewhere else.”

He allowed her to travel up his sides. Fingers spidering slowly as they climbed. A slight shake came into his voice as she neared under his arms, though not enough for the average listener to tell a difference. Her touch went back and forth right under the spot. A single claw occasionally ventured out slightly further under the arm to make their victim twitch in his seat.

All of a sudden they slid fully on the spot. His arms clamped down in retaliation as his voice cracked for a second. Something he brushed off with a polite “excuse me” before blabbing on. Rosie's claws wiggled in their prison. Slowly tugging the corners of his smile up until it could be heard in his words. 

“Now you sound like you're actually happy to talk about the news for once!” Rosie chimed. All she got in return was a kick under the table. That didn't stop her. The tickles kept building up until he was twisting away in his seat. Her hands followed. The broadcast went on. 

A few laughs escaped in a place that sounded naturally appropriate when making jokes about the latest VoxTek innovations. As much as Rosie would've loved for the tickles to interrupt his show, she decided that was good enough for now. Her hands moved back down his body, down his legs, settling on his shoes. “You look so handsome with your smile! It's a shame nobody can see it. But when I get my hands on your pretty hooves, they'll be able to hear it. Loud and clear.”

Alastor awkwardly twisted in his chair to get his feet away from her. Even reaching down to claw her arms away. But she was stubborn. Persistent. To the point that he would sound bad for the audience if she didn't get her way. So he gave up and decided to take it. He could take anything, after all. Some tickles weren't going to derail his show.

The shoes came off, and Rosie lightly clawed over the top. Loving how his shoulders raised and smile turned almost up to his eyes. Now he was narrating the murder of an overlord, and Rosie quite enjoyed the extra joyful edge to his storytelling voice. Everyone could hear the amount of twisted satisfaction that he got from recounting each detail.

Her hands slowly migrated to the underside, nails scratching into the soft part between the hoof nails and dew claws. A spot that never failed to make him bliss out. His voice became softer. Eyes fluttered. She could tell he was focusing on his breathing to continue the story coherently. It sounded like he truly zoned out and got lost in the details of the torture and the screaming. That was the little sadist that she loved so much. The side of himself that he tried to hide, but there was no holding back the giggles and smiles during tickles.

“And then…and then they couldn't fight any more. And you know what I did?” His voice trailed off into giggles as he kicked his hooves excitedly, Rosie letting go for only a moment. “I took my knife, sliced their throat, and watched them choke and die on their own blood!” 

Alastor was beginning to go into manic laughter all on his own, but Rosie couldn't help but contribute. She quickly jousted her fingers into his ribs, roughly tickling and vibrating in between the bones. His laughter rose in pitch and energy. Her smile widened, too. Pearly white daggers glistening bright. After a minute, her hands slipped off to give him a break. He gasped and hiccuped for breath. Taking quite a while to recover. 

“Ah, that was a good one! Now it's onto the last part of our broadcast. How about we end the night with some jokes?” He raised his brow at Rosie. Once again daring her to do her worst. But he couldn't have prepared himself for the evil plan inside her head. 

The first joke.

“Why did the spy cross the road?”

A dramatic pause.

“Because he never was on your side! Ahaha!” 

After his half-baked laugh, he looked down at Rosie seeming somewhat annoyed. As if he expected her to tickle him as part of the punchline. Oh well, the show must go on.

“If a child refuses to nap, is he guilty of resisting a rest? Ohoho!”

No tickle.

This time he looked downright offended. She was simply staring up at him from under the table, a cheeky grin pasted on her face. She reached for his shirt and lifted it up slightly to reveal his belly button. A happy chill ran through his body as he prepared a third joke. Excitement laced in his voice, but a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“This one's a bit of a story! So there was a man named Mr. Jordan, and he saw the little boy next door burying something in the ground and crying…”

As he told the story, his voice suddenly hitched. Rosie leaned into his belly and covered it with gentle kisses. On the left side, trailing to the right. Then going from the center waistline and pecking up to his belly button. The kisses were warm and gentle, making his mind melt until he nearly forgot his joke. But the show must go on! Kisses would not stop him.

“He called out ‘Top of the morning to ya! What are you up to?’ and the little boy wiped his tears and said ‘I buried my gold- gold- g-’”

Suddenly Rosie's tongue pressed into his belly button and ate it in a sloppy kiss. More kisses turned into soft bites, shocking his body with all kinds of warm, fuzzy feelings. So overbearing that he couldn't think or talk. Only smile. Laugh. Be cute and dumb.

“Goldfish- Ohhh-”

More nibbles and licks around his furry tummy had the denizens of Hell listening to a new kind of broadcast. Nothing but the happiest of sighs and ticklish whines.

“You can finish telling everyone your joke, sweetie.” Rosie encouraged between kisses, “Surely my lovins aren't making you blank out that hard?”

But they were. Just when he thought he could go on, another shock of tingles would melt him back into his chair. Part of him wanted to beg for it to stop, the other couldn't get enough. His hands came down, one on her head and the other on her shoulder. Squeezing her closer. Grabbing onto her with each new wave. His joke lost in the whimpers and giggles of sweet bliss.

Eventually he managed to speak. 

“Tune back in tomorrow for the punchline! That's all folks!” 

But Rosie wasn't just a normal part of the audience. Her show continued on. A front row seat to making the Radio Demon the happiest man in all of Hell. Making him laugh and smile in ways that nobody else was privileged enough to witness.

[thesassypadawan]

Come Clean (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: You finally get to go along with Hayden to a con!  And you, being the little dork you are, insist on getting a pic with your bf…just like everyone else!  Everything is going smoothly, but this one sleemo in line just won’t leave you alone.  It’s almost like they know about what’s going on between you two.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff. 

Notes: A little something for @jediskywalkerblog!  I really enjoyed writing this, made me feel all warm and giggly!  Hope you like it! ❤️

- What would happen the day the rest of the world finds out about you two? The day you finally come clean.

- In the back of your mind, the thought was always there. Normally you wouldn’t pay much attention to it. Since you both are so careful and keep such a low profile. But on a day like this one…when you’re literally surrounded by his fans. Well, it was kind of hard to ignore.

- To be fair, this was, mostly, your idea. You’ve wanted to go along with Hayden to a con for a while, because you’re so proud of him and, dammit, you support your man. But now that you’re here, seeing all these people, you can’t help feeling a tiny bit nervous. Maybe you should have stayed behind the scenes, instead of insisting on getting a photo with him like everyone else.

- As if on cue, the sound of Lord Vader’s breathing comes floating from his hoodie, that you ‘borrowed’, pocket. ‘Wonder who that could be,’ you joke to yourself while fumbling with your phone.

- Sure enough, it was a text from…

♡Big Dork♡: Have I told you how good your butt looks in those leggings? 😘

- Smiling, you discreetly glance over your shoulder. Hay was, of course, not standing there; only a wall of privacy curtains. But the longer you stare at it, you notice someone looking back at you through the crack.

- Shaking your head, you turn your attention back to your screen…

♡Little Dork♡: Shouldn’t you be taking pics with all these nice folks right now, instead of checking out my ass? 🤣

- Lord Vader breathes again…

♡Big Dork♡: I stepped out for a moment to enjoy the view. 😘 And to check up on you. Still doing okay? ❤️

- You give a small nod for him to see…

♡Little Dork♡: Yep. Now get back out here so I can get my turn with you. 🥰

- More breathing…

♡Big Dork♡: Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of time for that later. 😉

- You roll your eyes and lock your phone. But, when you do so, you’re met by yours and the person behind you in line’s reflection.

- It was clear that they were reading your whole conversation with Hayden. Not wanting to make it into a big thing, you quickly shove it back into your pocket. Trying to act like you didn’t even notice.

- No such luck. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” they try to fakely apologize. “I hope you don’t think I was prying. I was only checking the ti-”

- Thankfully that’s when Hay stepped back out. The clapter and cheering of the crowd cut the sleemo short, ending the very uncomfortable chat. Or at least that’s what you hope.

- Spotting you, Hay instantly flashes you a smile. Which you, naturally, return.

- You don’t think much of it, but the sleemo certainly does. “Seems like Hayden and you are pretty friendly.”

- Your back stiffens. ‘Kriff! Kriff! Kriff!’ And you keep you eyes forward as you calmly reply. “Sorry, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

- “No?” The sleemo persists. “You smiled at each other just now. Could you possibly be-”

- “Next person, please!”

- Perfect timing. Refusing to let them ruin this special moment, you brush the sleemo off and go walking up to Hay.

- You two exchange mock pleasantries and pose for the camera all cutely (but not too cutely). Nice and smooth and totally discreet. Well, it was, until you turn to leave…

- “It was nice to meet you, angel. I hope to see you again real soon.” Hayden, out of habit, gives your bum a tap.

- You pause for a second. ‘Did he?! Really?! REALLY?!’ Then as quickly and nonchalantly as you can manage, you get the hell out of there. Praying that no one saw that.

- Pretending to act all nice, the sleemo follows you. “Miss! Excuse me, miss! You forgot your photo!”

- Trying your best to ignore them, you continue to weave through the crowd. Moving closer to the restricted access area. The one that Hay told you to go to if anything happened, that you’ll be safe there. ‘Come on! Come on! COME ON!’

- You almost make it too; the goal is just barely in sight. But as you’re fishing out your special pass, a hand grabs you by the shoulder. “I’m talking to you, little miss Hayden’s secret girlfriend!”

- Completely freezing up. You frantically think of what to do next when…

- “Hey! Take your hands off her!” Hay comes bursting out from behind the curtains, the most pissed off you’ve ever seen him. Like literal full blown Vader mode.

- The sleemo immediately lets you go, and you run over to him. “Hay!”

- Burying your face into his chest, he wraps his arms around you tightly. “It’s okay. I got you, angel,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

- “So she is your girlfriend!” The sleemo, who was paparazzi all along, shouts as security begins to surround them.

- By now a crowd has gathered. It’s almost deadly silent as they all wait to hear his answer.

- Gazing down, he flashes you a quick grin. “Yeah, she is! Happiest I’ve been in years!”

- “Me too,” you grin back. Standing on your tip toes, you capture his lips in a tender kiss.

- A beat more of silence…before it explodes in cheers and applause.

- “Guess it’s no longer a secret,” you giggle.

- “Yeah,” he chuckles. “Sorry.”

- “Don’t be, it’s nice to finally come clean about it.”

[marvelobsessed134]

The girl who works at the hot chocolate stand at Rockefeller

Reposted from my Wattpad.

This is part of my 12 days of fics

Pairings: Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: in which Kate Bishop buys too many hot chocolates

It's that time of year again. The temperature drops, tiny snowflakes fall from the sky, everyone scrambles to get their holiday shopping done, while making cookies and getting bundled up in red PJs to watch Christmas films. Some people drop the needle down on their Christmas vinyls.

You love everything about this time of year. The cozy vibes, magical feeling, and family gatherings. Which is why you work the hot chocolate stand at Rockefeller center every year. You love watching people ice skate and gathering the tree for the lighting. When you're off your job you join in, and enjoy the holiday magic.

As you prepared orders, you thought about what to get your little sister for christmas. And decided on an American Girl doll. She loves those dolls and has always wanted one, even though they're crazy expensive. But you've saved up a lot for presents this year.

You heard some people whispering and pointing to the entrance. Curious, you looked up to see The Avengers walking around. You heard rumors about them visiting this year as a group, but here they are.

They walked up the stand and got in line.

You made many cups of coco, from ex assassins and super soldiers, to a witch, a guy who can run really fast, a guy with an iron suit,an Asgardian god, and a hulk. And the two world's greatest archers.

One of them, being Kate Bishop. The raven haired girl studied you for a moment. She thought you were extremely beautiful. She got too caught up in her thoughts when she didn't notice you had finished making her drink.

"Uh, Ms. Bishop? Your drink is ready." You spoke up and she shook her head and took the warm styrofoam cup. "I'm sorry, thank you..."

"Y/n." you responded with a warm smile.

She smiled back at you.

"Y/n." she repeated and she walked back t0 the group of supers.

"Well...you seemed very occupied over there." Natasha smirked while Yelena let out a laugh.

Kate rolled her eyes.

"Okay, whatever."

"Come on guys! Let's go ice skating!" Steve exclaimed. The team started skating around, but Kate couldn't keep her mind off of you. She wanted to see you again. So, she bought another cup of hot chocolate. And another one. And in the words of DJ Khaled, another one. Till you finally spoke up about it.

"You must really like hot chocolate, don't you?"

Her face turned crimson.

"I-uh, yeah. I guess you could say that. Um, when do you get off?"

You smirked at her question.

"Whenever I can. Which happens to be right now." you responded.

Kate smiled and you closed up the stand, getting bundled back up in your mittens and coats. And your All Too Well scarf you bought from Taylor Swift's merch store.

She took you by the hand.

The two of you talked for awhile before the tree lighting ceremony started. You stood with Kate by the rest of the team. And as soon as the lights on the tree came on, she grabbed your face in her hands and pressed her lips to yours.

You happily kissed her back.

This was definitely the most magical Christmas you've ever experienced.

[shawtyfromdirtydocks]

Had an idea and I just have to share it with you guys so enjoy this ramble or whatever the fucking terminology is

20+ DNI 20+ DNI 20+ DNI 20+ DNI 20+ DNI

Slowly

König x Reader

Content: Fluff, fluffy fluff mcfluffing fluff, black!reader as always, mentions of cooked meat (sorry vegans, I love soul food), slow jamz and intimacy. Enjoy <3

P.S. this was not at all proof read and I'm falling asleep

König loves to be present and enjoy moments before they become memories. Which is perfect because you do too. It's what keeps your relationship intimate and lovely. Grown and sexy if you will.

In the beginning he watched you cook Sunday dinners. Slow jams or soul and R&B sounds flowing oh so sweetly from the big speakers he bought you when he figured out you worked better with music.

He longed to glide around that kitchen with you. Washing the dirty dishes you used to cook as you stood at the stove. Coming up behind you as you flipped whatever meat you were cooking for the night. Kissing your shoulders and wrapping his arms around your waist, relaxing into the sweet smell of your cocoa butter coated skin.

Oh but he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You were just so captivating. The way you hummed a melody or occasionally sang a duet with one of your favorite singers never failed to make him smile. He was absolutely astonished by your beauty. How could he have gotten so lucky?

You taught him that he should always make memories whenever he could though. Before you, he didn't really have a reason to.

He didn't speak much about his childhood but he mentioned the reason for his social awkwardness being that he was picked on growing up, and that was really all you needed to know. Before you, he didn't think his life would be worth looking back on. You made him appreciate his life more.

The power you held over your life inspired him. So he decided to join you in the kitchen one day. Offering his help eagerly because you were clearly the one in charge.

Learning the classics and a few recipes, but most importantly, making warming memories while strengthening the connection you both shared. He couldn't be more grateful for you teaching him to start living his life more slowly.

[roselynnthornwood]

Author IG: roselynnthornwood_author

Support me on Patreon!

Artist IG: drea.d.art

Support her on Patreon!

[thesecondhandwoman]

Can I request a Caitlyn x fem!reader where during the final battle, reader got heavily injured like a big gash at her back or something and Caitlyn saw what happened but couldn’t do anything cause she was fighting Ambessa. In the end is all fluff, reader and Caitlyn got treated for their injuries and reader now has a big scar on her back and got a little insecure but Caitlyn kissed her back saying she’s still beautiful

BEAUTY IN SCARS

Caitlyn x f!reader

Synopsis: Even with scars that remain permanent, Caitlyn’s love for you will never remain temporary. And she proves it every time she sees your discomfort.

Request: Anon 🤍

The battlefield was chaos. Smoke and fire painted the sky in hues of destruction, the acrid scent of gunpowder thick in the air. The war between Piltover and the Undercity versus Ambessa’s forces and Viktor’s creations had reached its crescendo, a desperate clash that would determine the fates of countless lives. Amidst the chaos, Caitlyn was a picture of precision. Her rifle was an extension of her body, her movements fluid and calculated as she kept her sights on the enemy. Every shot she took was deliberate, every decision measured.

But no matter how focused she was, even without that rifle no longer in her hands, her heart refused to stay calm. Her sharp blue eyes darted through the haze, searching for you.

You weren’t far, your figure darted through the rubble, weaving past explosions and gunfire to help those who couldn’t help themselves. Caitlyn had begged you to stay back, to let others fight, but you wouldn’t listen. You never did when it came to protecting people.

Her chest tightened every time she caught a glimpse of you. You weren’t a soldier, nor did you claim to be, but your courage put seasoned fighters to shame. Yet that courage terrified Caitlyn. You were too kind for this world of blood and violence, too soft-hearted to carry the weight of what this battle demanded.

Still, Caitlyn trusted you. She had to.

Her attention snapped back to her current opponent: Ambessa Medarda. The towering warlord moved with the grace of someone who had seen a hundred battles and won them all. Her spear swung with a force that made the ground tremble, and Caitlyn had no choice but to meet her head-on.

Ambessa’s blows were relentless, each one forcing Caitlyn to fight with every ounce of skill and speed she had. The stakes were high, but Caitlyn didn’t falter. She couldn’t afford to.

And then she heard it.

A scream.

Your scream.

Her heart stopped. Time seemed to slow as Caitlyn turned her head, her breath catching in her throat. Through the smoke and flames, she saw you. You were on your knees, blood staining your shirt as it spread from a deep gash across your back.

Her world tilted on its axis.

“Y/N!” she shouted, her voice breaking with desperation.

Your body collapsed before you could get another word out, slumping against the floor motionlessly as blood began to ooze from your back. Caitlyn wanted to drop everything, to run to you, to make sure you were okay. But Ambessa’s spear came down again, forcing her to dodge.

Caitlyn grunted, her eyes quickly darting back at Ambessa as she swung her spear back at her. Her movements became faster, more deliberate. She poured every ounce of her strength into the fight, her only goal to end it and reach you.

By the time the battle ended, the forces of Piltover had prevailed. Both fights from Piltover and Zaun remained, but their numbers were broken from start to finish. Caitlyn didn’t care about the victory, the cost, or even her own injuries.

She sprinted through the rubble, ignoring the ache in her muscles and the blood dripping from a gash on her forearm, or the way her eye was currently blinded, dripping with the same red substance. She found you lying still amidst the debris, your chest rising and falling faintly. Relief and panic warred within her as she dropped to her knees beside you.

“Y/N,” Caitlyn whispered, her voice trembling. “Stay with me. Please.”

Your eyelids fluttered open, and you looked at her with a weak smile. “Hey baby,” you rasped. “You okay?”

Caitlyn’s throat tightened. “Don’t—don’t worry about me,” she choked out, her hands hovering over your injury. “You’re the one who’s bleeding out far more than I am.”

“Mm, guess I beat you at something else yet again..” you joked faintly, your voice trembling with pain.

Caitlyn let out a sound that was half a laugh, half a sob. “Stop talking,” she ordered, though her voice was soft. “Save your strength. I’m getting you out of here.”

Ignoring her own injuries, Caitlyn lifted you into her arms. You winced, a weak groan escaping your lips, and she shushed you gently, her voice trembling. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

Every step back to the medic’s tent felt like an eternity. The adrenaline carried her forward, her arms trembling under the weight of not you, but the fear of losing you.

The days that followed were excruciating.

You had been stabilized by the medics, the wound treated as best as they could manage. But the damage was deep, and the scar it left behind was jagged and unforgiving. Caitlyn stayed by your bedside, refusing to leave even when her colleagues insisted she needed rest. She spent hours watching over you, her thoughts consumed by guilt and fear.

When you finally woke, Caitlyn was the first thing you saw. She sat slouched in a chair, her hair unkempt and her arm in a sling. Her eyes were bloodshot, but they softened the moment you met her gaze.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice hoarse from exhaustion.

“Morning,” you croaked, your throat dry. Caitlyn immediately moved to help you, holding a glass of water to your lips.

“Slowly,” she murmured, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

Once you’d had your fill, she set the glass down and took your hand in hers, squeezing gently.

“You stayed,” you said softly, your voice filled with quiet gratitude.

“Of course I stayed,” Caitlyn replied, her lips twitching into a faint smile. But the guilt in her eyes was impossible to miss. “I should’ve—”

“Caitlyn,” you interrupted, squeezing her hand. “You did everything you could. Don’t blame yourself.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded, unwilling to argue with you in your fragile state.

As the days turned to weeks, Caitlyn noticed a change in you. You were quieter, more withdrawn. You avoided mirrors and hesitated whenever she offered to help you change or clean your wound.

One evening, Caitlyn found you standing in front of a mirror, your shirt discarded as you stared at your reflection. The scar across your back was stark, a jagged reminder of what you had endured.

You flinched when you saw Caitlyn in the reflection, hastily pulling your shirt back on. “I didn’t hear you come in,” you mumbled.

Caitlyn stepped closer, her expression unreadable. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“I’m not hiding,” you said quickly, though your voice wavered.

Caitlyn gently took your hands in hers, pulling you close. “Please don’t lie to me,” she said softly. “You don’t have to face this type of discomfort alone.”

Your lips trembled. “It’s just the scar, Caitlyn. It’s ugly, and every time I see it, I don’t feel like myself.”

Caitlyn’s heart ached at your words. She cupped your face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Y/N, that scar is a testament to your bravery. It’s proof that you stood up for what you believed in, even when it cost you.”

You shook your head, the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you. “I just, I don’t know how to feel normal again.”

Caitlyn’s gaze softened, and she leaned down, her forehead resting against yours. “You are more than normal. You’re extraordinary.”

She gently lifted your shirt, her fingers tracing the scar with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. “This scar doesn’t make you any less beautiful. If anything, it makes me love you even more.”

She leaned in a little, her lips lightly parting above your scar, ghosting the sensitive skin. “May I?” She asked softly.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded, watching from the mirror as Caitlyn pressed her lips to the scar, her kiss lingering like a promise. “You’re breathtaking,” she murmured. “And no scar will ever make me think different.”

[icycoldninja]

FLUFFCEMBER DAY#15: (Vergil x Reader)

Cuddles & Kisses

Throughout all of your somewhat lengthy life, there has never been a happier moment shared between you and your loved one, the very reason for your existence—your motivation. Laying on the couch, comfortably wrapped up in his beefy arms was the most relaxing experience you'd ever had, and the opportunity to press kisses to whatever part of him was within reach was even better. You knew he was enjoying it too, how could he not? Even big strong bad boys like him want to be cuddled.

"I love you," You told him for the 190-somethingth time that night. "Love you so much."

"Thank you," Mumbled Vergil, who couldn't figure out another way to respond without seeming like a lovesick fool (at least in his eyes).

"You know, I think this is the longest we've ever gone without getting interrupted by Dante or someone else," You remarked, just because you felt like talking.

"Indeed," Vergil agreed, absently patting your shoulder. "Now hush, lest you jinx us."

"Right, right," You laughed, before grabbing his hand and kissing it. In response to that, Vergil let out a little rumble and returned the favor by giving you a peck on the crown of your head. Of course, you wouldn't let him have the last laugh, and retorted by twisting your head to press a kiss to his neck.

"Hmph," Scoffed Vergil; a wordless declaration of war. He leaned down and kissed you full on the lips, wrapping one arm around your waist and using the other to push you forwards so you couldn't escape him. He was merciful, however, and released you after a few moments, a tiny smirk present on his face.

"OK," You admitted, grinning. "You got me with that one."

"Satisfied now?" The question was a foolish one to which he already knew the answer.

"Heck no," You giggled, flinging yourself onto his chest and latching your arms around his waist so it would be impossible to pry you off. "Hold me some more."

Vergil answered you by kissing your forehead, which could have been interpreted as another wordless invitation to battle, but you decided to let it go. Vergil could take the win this time, but come nightfall, you would have your revenge.

[leclercslet]

Just A Little Bite of Your Heart

Lestappen - 11.5k - Available on AO3

“Hm, what are you…” Charles began to say, but was interrupted.

“Can you feel it, schatje? Can you feel my heart?” Max asked in a low and calm voice. Charles swallowed, looking at his own hand on that huge chest, before looking into the narrow blue eyes again. Determined, full of passion. They seemed to be on fire. “Do you understand now what I'm trying to say? Do you think there's anyone else in the world who can make my heart beat like this?” Charles's eyes filled with tears again. He closed them and sighed.

“Max…”

“I love you, Charles. I love you. Can you understand that?”

Charles and Max have been in love since they were 7 years old. They've been secretly involved since they were 15, until the moment Charles decides to end the relationship. However, Max doesn't agree with it.

[redbleedingrose]

Traditions ~ Cassian x Reader

 Summary: You teach Cassian a family tradition 

Warnings: slight angst, infertility, tbh mostly fluff

A/N: OMG 2.7k-ish words later!!! I am so sorry to have kept y’all waiting. I know you asked for an Azriel piece but this one was just stuck in my mind. Anyway, I guess this is the time to thank you all for 1.3k followers! That is huge and totally unexpected. I am forever thankful! Please leave your thoughts in the comments below, I always appreciate your likes, and love your reblogs. Let me know if you want to be added to my general taglist. Enjoy! 

Your mate gaped at you from where he was seated on your large bed, several feet away from your vanity he had built with his brothers as a mating gift when you had finally accepted the bond. It had been nearly an hour since you had emerged from the bath that Cassian had first started after your supper. You had joined him when the water was still piping hot and as the water had gone luke-warm, your needy husband spent the entire bath running his large, calloused hands all over your body, massaging your sorest parts every now and then, and squeezing at your soft flesh in any place he could without earning a smack on his thigh. The warm pot roast with mashed potatoes settled into your stomach with a glass of red wine to follow, had you feeling sated and cozy while you rested against Cass’ chest. Time well spent cooking with the general, who was barely able to keep his hands off you, until you nearly kicked him out of the kitchen, settling for the occasional spank on your ass. 

You calmly moved into the next step of your nighttime routine, circling your aloe cream into your cheeks and under eyes, ignoring your pouting mate who whined in the background, trying to get your attention to pull you away from your seat and into your bed. When you had walked out of your shared bathroom, you wore nothing but a silk robe that ran down to right above your knees, exposing your newly moisturized legs that smelled of his favorite honey and milk lotion. Cassian was feeling almost feral at the sight of you, wanting nothing more than to toss you over any surface so he could have his way with you for hours. Maybe, you wouldn’t be getting the rest you had planned on, and you were okay with that. But, right now? This was your time to relax, to ease into the night, to let the various worries of the day slip out of your mind and into the dark abyss of tomorrow. 

So, he sat. 

He sat on the large bed, with his arms crossed over his chest, huffing and puffing with his jaw hung open as you heated the fresh hyssop oil in your hands, coating it in your palms before running your fingers through your hair. You hummed in contentment, sneaking a glance at your impatient husband, sending him a sneaky, yet, gentle smile before massaging the silky liquid through your scalp all the way down to the roots of your hair. You watched him through the mirror, as you continued to hum, staring at you with his head tilted to the side in curiosity, his pupils blowing out his cinnamon mixed with copper iris’. 

Not once had your dear husband ever asked what it is that you were doing, not once did he ask what your nighttime routine actually was. He never asked why it took so long, he never asked why you had so many steps in the process. He only stared at you in wonder. You weren't exactly sure why Cassian never felt the need to ask, but you had assumed it was because it didn't matter, despite how strange it looked, as long as you were at peace in the end. 

It was simple, really. A tradition that had run in your family for centuries. Oiling your hair that is. Your great grandmother had done it to your grandmother, your grandmother had done it to your mother, and your mother had done it to you. It was a form of love, of devotion, and of doting on someone you love. It always brought memories that felt like balm after a long, difficult day. Your mother used to sing you hymns as she settled you between her knees on the floor, rubbing the oil through her hands to warm it before pressing it into your hair.

 She would run her hands through your hair softly, “it will open up your mind, my sweet little bird,” murmuring to you her love as she would bounce her fingers against your scalp. After she was done, she would press a kiss onto your forehead before braiding your hair and then sending you off to bed. The tips of your fingers played with the ends of your hair that you had weaved into that simple braid, sliding it over your shoulders, and easing back into the soft white chair you were seated in before calling out to your mate, “C’mere my love.” 

He shot out of bed obediently, rushing over to where you were seated, grinning as you spread your legs open, slowly and sensually, till your knees were fully spread apart, exposing your glistening sex. You tilted your head back with a smirk, watching his reaction. The poor male was nearly drooling at the sight of his mate all spread out for him, his pretty eyes sparkling with what could only be described as pure hunger for his mate. “Get on your knees, Cass.” Not a second later, he fell to his knees, right in front of you, growling at your scent that seemed to bleed into the room, his soft hair falling forward over his shoulders as he leaned over to take a huff of your essence. You couldn't help but let a breeze of laughter escape you, resting your foot flat against his shoulder and pushing him back without much force. “Sweetheart,” he started with another growl, reaching up to rest his hand on your ankle, “Not yet, General,” you interrupted with another chuckle, “turn around.” 

“B- But–,” his hungry smirk fell into a forlorn expression that made your smile widen, “Nuh uh Cassie baby, turn around,” you twirled your finger around in a spinning motion, trying to motion for him to turn faster. Your poor mate sighed before following your order, willing to do whatever you wished, even if it meant tasting your cunt later in the night rather than right now, like he so craved doing. He expected you to be playing one of your games, though he wasn’t sure what it was. Even after centuries of being together, you still managed to find ways to surprise him, keeping him on his toes, or rather, his knees, and keeping the spark alive in your relationship. You sent a stroke of love and satisfaction down your vibrating bond, soothing his restless soul as his thumb continued to stroke and press into your outer ankle that was resting on the padded floor next to his hip. 

You lifted the vial, using the dropper to access the oil that you had used only moments prior, humming the same tunes your mother used to when you sat in the same position as Cassian is now. You settled the vial back onto the glass vanity, warming the oil in your hands as you leaned forward towards your mate, pressing a kiss into his temple. His eyes fluttered shut, resting his cheek against your knee before turning his head to drop a swift kiss onto the exposed skin. He lingered for a moment, smiling into you, pulses of an overwhelming sense of adoration and warmth emanated through your bond from him. It was so clear to you how smitten he still was with you, how devoted he was with you, how he still delighted in your presence even if it meant pushing off your most intimate display of affection for whatever it is that you have planned for him. 

He more or less whined as your soft fingers burrowed into his hair, running along his scalp, his head nearly falling back into your lap, reveling in the feeling of you bouncing your fingers into his skin. His jaw fell open further as you gathered even more oil before running it through his silky ink hair, making sure to cover every single strand with it. It glimmered in the soft lighting emitting from the fireplace as you brushed his hair back with your fingers, pulling the tips to the top of his scalp to coat every end. Cassian couldn’t even force his eyes open to watch, his head had begun to lightly pulse at the sensation of his beautiful, wonderful mate playing with his hair. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in weeks with the new conflicts in Illyria sending him and his brothers over the edge with tension and anxiety. His lips lifted of their own accord into an open smile every time he felt you press a sweet kiss into his forehead, smoothing down any residual wrinkles of stress. It was when you pushed his head back up with such ease that he sat back up, thinking you were done with whatever it was that you were doing.

 He found, pleasantly, that he was wrong. 

Your fingers shifted through his hair, pulling it back into what he could've sworn would be a ponytail, but you let his hair go, letting it fall back to his shoulders. He could feel you hesitate, shuffling closer to him and pressing your legs closer into his side. He waited patiently, unsure of what your next step would be, startling slightly when you began whispering as your hands ran up his spine, “Have you ever wondered why I put this oil in my hair, Cass?” Basking in the feeling of you so near, your warmth radiating off you, your scent almost overwhelming, he murmured an agreement, pressing a kiss onto your other exposed knee. You grinned down at your mates euphoric state, a state similar to the ones that only happened after hours of love making, continuing with your mistrations at his shoulders before threading his hair in your warm grasp to form a simple braid. 

Words began slipping out of you like sweetened tea, and Cass listened intently, always wanting to bury every single statement you uttered into his memory so he would never forget, “It’s a tradition that has run through my family for generations. It is said that hyssop oil that is freshly pressed is extremely hydrating to one's hair, and that it helps refresh a person's aura. And so, as tradition goes, my mother would do this for me, warming the oil right in her palm as a form of love, nearly soaking my scalp and hair in it, following that with a simple braid to let it enrich my hair and my aura. And she would sing some hymns to me in the old language while doing so. If there ever were a way to calm me down, it would be this. I guess you could say, it is a way to show your affection to someone.” You rambled softly, hoping that Cassian wouldn’t mind you doing this for him, that he would understand, and that hopefully, he would let you do this again. 

His warm hand was now fully pressing into your ankle, squeezing it thrice every so often, an easy smile lilting his beautiful rugged face while you babbled on, “It’s sweet though, if you think about it, Cass. My grandmother did this to my mother. And my mother did this to me. And maybe one day…” you paused, anxiously looking down at your mate who had finally opened his burnt cinnamon eyes to look up at you like you were a goddess to be worshiped. He squeezed your ankle once again, this time more firmly, stabilizing you before pressing a hard kiss into your plush lower inner thigh to reassure you into continuing. You cleared your throat, pushing down the small, painful lump that had formed, “And maybe one day, I can do it for our future babe, whenever that will be.” 

It had been almost three years of you trying with Cassian to have a babe, and it still hadn’t happened. No matter how many potions Majda had given you, no matter the reassurance Cass and your friends from the inner circle had given you, especially Feyre, it still hurt. It still didn’t make any sense to you as to how it hadn’t happened yet. And you knew. You knew that sometimes, it could take decades for fae, even longer for Illyrians. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less. That didn’t mean it was any less difficult. You and Cassian had both hoped that it would happen relatively quickly, given how quickly Feyre had gotten pregnant with Nyx. But that didn’t seem to be how it worked out for you both. 

And it was hard. 

It was painful. 

You had spent nights crying yourself to sleep over it not happening. Every month, when your cycle would come, it felt like another stab to your already bleeding heart. You couldn’t help but feel as though you had failed. Failed at reproducing. Failed at being a female. Failed at being a mate. 

But Cass never let you feel that way for long. His constant reassurance and strength had been the only thing in recent months that had been helping you push through this period of difficulty in your life. He was the perfect male, the perfect husband, the perfect mate really. Not even for a second did he blame you for your troubles with infertility. Not for a second did he make you feel incapable. He was truly your rock against the crashing waves that kept you standing. 

And you loved him for it.

And he loved you for it. He always would.

You were so deep in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed Cassian was now turned towards you, sitting up on his knees and staring at you in concern, his calloused hands resting on your cheeks, stroking away the stray tears that had slipped out. You sniffled, trying to smile at your mate as you snuggled into his palm, raising up your own hand to rest against his, “your braid will slip open my love, turn around so I can tie it.” He started to shake his head, “Sweetheart– ,” you hummed, not letting him finish what he had planned to say, patting at his broad shoulders with a small grin rising on your face, “C’mon Cassie, quickly.” 

His iris shifted between yours, looking for any signs of remaining sadness that had seemed to slip out of you as quickly as it had come. And when he found none, he nodded slowly, pecking your lips before turning silently and resting his ass against his shins. You remove the hair tie that has been wrapped around your wrist, gently tying off his braid before running a finger down the length of it. He catches your wrist, pulling it around his body towards his front and planting kisses right along the inner portion, resting it on his chest to where you can feel his heart beating at your fingertips. You blushed at the sensation, the pulses of love he sends down your already buzzing mating bond provide a source of comfort that you could not begin to describe. 

“I love you, sweetheart, so much,” his voice barely above a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear, “and we will have a beautiful little babe that you can do this with.” He shifted, hooking his arm under your thigh and swiftly pulling you out of your chair and into his lap. You landed in his embrace with a yelp, his arms pulled you further into his hold allowing him the access to peck your flushed cheeks, the tip of your nose, the edge of your jawline, the base of your forehead, and finally, your lips. His kiss sent tingles from your lips down to your heart which morphed into butterflies that exploded in your soft tummy. Cassian held you there, moving his lips in gentle succession until a smile formed against your lips. He ended the kiss with another soft peck, “But until then, you can continue your traditions with me. All that affection and love you are saving for our future babe, you can give some for me to hold onto until the mother blesses us. What do you think?” A huff of a breath escapes you in a barely formed laugh, your smile too large for you to contain as you lean up to kiss your husband again, nodding once while watching his own smile widen, right before returning your lips against his.

General taglist: @nyotamalfoy @brekkershadowsinger @kennedy-brooke @fieldofdaisiies 

Masterlist

[sapphistically]

stealing kisses

read on ao3 | masterlist/s

description: you and buffy end up sleeping in the same bed and sharing not one, but two kisses.

relationship: buffy summers & fem!reader

a/n: anyways so reader is kinda a part of the while gang, we have Xander x Anya mentioned and Willow x Tara mentioned! Not sure if I ever implied the reader in female, though that was in my mind when writing this.

wc: 1,174

You and the gang haven’t been that close lately, everyone was busy with their own stuff, so Buffy eventually decided to take matters into her own hands and with some help from Willow, they threw a sleepover at Buffy’s house.

All was well, until it was time to go to sleep, Tara and Willow took their bedroom, Dawn slept in her room, Xander and Anya took the living room and you were left with no place to sleep in. Heading back home was a dumb idea considering how late it was and the fact that you drank a beer or two and the alcohol has not left your system.

The alcohol was what probably caused Buffy’s suggestion, you felt sober immediately when you heard her proposition, but you agreed, as there was really no point in fighting and there was no other solution.

There you were, in her room, which you’ve seen many times, still now it felt… different. You changed into your pyjamas, a pair of shorts and a bra, as it was hot outside. Buffy walked in, her hair down, to her shoulders, her face now clean, with no makeup on. She was already in her pyjamas, which were adorable, it was a matching light pink, pastel like set.

“I swear there was an extra mattress.” She grunted as she sat down on the bed, clearly upset as she cane back empty handed.

“It’s okay…”

Was it really though? Where would you sleep, in her bed? Not that you’d complain…

“No, it’s not, this whole night it’s just— not right.” She covered her face with her hands as she sat there, so distraught, you truly wished you could do anything to help her out, but you had no idea how.

You sat next to her, her sheets were fluffy, the mattress slightly bending below when you sat, you placed your hand on Buffy’s back as you gently rubbed it, the silk material of her pyjamas sending a shiver down your spine.

“I can just, take the floor,” you smiled lightly at her, you really didn’t mind, as long as you didn’t have to share a room with either of the couples, especially Xander and Anya, “All I need is a blanket, really.” You tried to be more reassuring, your voice definitely played the part, the smile on your face making it sound more cheerful.

“No… Maybe I take the floor, you’re the guest.”

She looked at you, moving her hands down to her knees as she let out a long sight, your eyes scanned her face, her skin was so smooth, there were light blueish eye bags under her eyes, her lips moved into a thin line.

You just sat there for a moment, her staring at you, you staring at her, a sudden knock on the door caught you by surprise, you immediately jumped up and away from Buffy, who got up to open the door.

“Hey, we just.. wanted to say goodnight…” You heard Willow on the other side of the door, Buffy replied with a simple goodnight and after so did you.

After a good minute of debating back and forth it was settled, you were to sleep together, Buffy was the host and obviously was tired, so she deserved to sleep in her own bed.

You were a guest, Buffy thought it was wrong to make you sleep on the floor, especially on the cold wood with no mattress underneath.

You settled in the bed and once Buffy got in it, a shiver went down your spine, your heart immediately sped up, especially when her leg brushed against yours. You felt a pang in your heart when she moved it away with a whisper, “Sorry”.

She turned the light off and you turned your back to her.

You faced the window, your eyes traced the tree outside of it.

You tried to close your eyes, to count sheep or do math in your head, but nothing helped you fall asleep. Buffy’s breathing was irregular, jagged, as her back faced yours and her mind wondered to all sorts of thoughts… about you.

“Hey, you asleep?” You whispered in the dark, the only light was that of the moon.

“No…” She whispered back.

You could feel the mattress sagging under her as she moved, which made you move.

You two were face to face now, inches away, your eyes drifted to trace ber features, not caring that she could see it. You watched the rays of moon as they shined on her face, she was so beautiful.

Buffy’s demeanour was now more stoic, her lips were parted with a little shine on them, in form of a lip balm, her hair was messy from shifting around on the pillow, her eye bags were less visible in this light and her eyes… oh those eyes.

Her eyes traveled on your face, exploring the depth of it, every shadow casted on it and every light, her gaze lingered on your face, as if she was trying to always remember you, how you looked in this moment.

God.

Why was she so… perfect?

You gulped the saliva down your throat, as you blinked rapidly, before moving closer to her.

You felt your heart, pounding in your chest, faster and louder the closer you got to her.

Bum, bum, bum, bum.

The rhythmic sound of it was deafening in the silence of the night.

“Can I…” You let out a whisper, a whimper almost in a pleading tone.

“Y-Yeah…” Her voice was just as shaky as yours.

Buffy could feel the heat building in her stomach, the way she burned for your lips, your touch, for you. She burned for you. She couldn’t see herself in that moment, but considering how hot she was, she could guess her cheeks were flushed, she was almost shaking, the mix of excitement and anxiety were taking away her ability to think straight.

Your lips met hers, yours were more harsh, her were soft, softer than one could imagine and tasted like marshmallows, but that was probably just her lip balm. The kiss was shy at first, your lips gently grazed hers and hers grazed yours.

You never wanted it to end, the feeling of her lips on yours, her hand on your hip, her warm breath ticking your cheek. It was like the whole world disappeared, all you could smell was her, all you thought about was her, all you could feel was her and the butterflies flying in your belly.

Buffy pulled away, she kept close to you still, her eyes looked from one of your eyes to the other, her breathing continued to be chaotic, even more that before, she looked into your eyes, like she needed something, she wanted more, a conformation it was fine.

You were melting just looking at her, feeling her, smelling her…

She smiled lightly as she kissed you again, this time with more confidence, she pulled you in, grasping your hip harder, she never wanted to let you go.