#glad to get the leg wobble in there though

[boltlightning]

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST (2006): rehearsals v. final film ➢ mastering the blade: orlando bloom

[fingertipsmp3]

Whyyyyyy is my quad lag back

[princesssmars]

baby girl, im finna rock your shit!

a sequel to this vi x reader. p.iii

wc : 1.735

contains : fxf relationship and sex. some romantic fluff. rough sex. penetrative sex (r!receiving). some dom!vi i think. lowkey highkey jealous/possesive vi.

a/n : greatest writing motivation is being horny as fuck. enjoy.

for better or worse, violet could not keep her hands off of you.

when you first glanced at her you did not take her for the type to be so affectionate - dyed black hair, smudged eyeshadow, not to mention the abundance of leather she was wearing as she celebrated knocking her opponent out cold. that mixed with her playboy reputation with some of her more desperate fans? let’s say you weren’t expecting nightly shoulder rubs and playful smushing of cheeks when you got home.

but when you finally gave her a chance to worm her way into your heart you were gladly surprised to see just how much of a sweetheart the boxer could really be. she texted you every day and constantly made sure you were taking care of your physical and mental well-being.

and of course, once you gave her the go-ahead she was so physically affectionate. she always had a hand on your hip when walking in public, gently moving you to avoid a small obstacle or to show you a small place she wanted to treat you to. at your shared apartments she would follow you around almost akin to a puppy, a big dopey smile on her face as she stood behind you while you were grabbing some chips from the kitchen.

“uhh…do you need something?”

“nope.”

“…are you sure?”

“yup.”

and every time you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and smile at her before putting a kiss on her cheek.

and while you noticed it beforehand, after you slept together for the first time you saw just how…depraved her affection could get.

from your experience, the first few days after the first time with a partner could be strange, with neither partner knowing when it would be right to initiate the next time without seeming too distant or too desperate. but gods were you glad you and vi were on the same wavelength. it was only the morning after that you were ready to go at her again, nearly embarrassingly desperate to feel the ache she left between your legs again.

but you were feeling just the slightest bit of self-conscious over how eager you were with her last night, so you decided to do something nice to show your appreciation by making her and you a nice breakfast. even though your legs felt the slightest bit wobbly as you made your way to the kitchen.

in the middle of you poking at the eggs to check their progress when you feel a pair of strong arms encircle your waist and a towering body press into your back. you try to keep focusing on the cooking but it becomes impossible when vi starts to playfully bite and kiss at the skin of your neck, forcing you to giggle as the feeling of it combined with her hair getting in your face.

your giggle turns into an airy gasp when her palms grasp your hips and she brashly thrusts her crotch into your backside, moving your body over to the side so you can grip the counter. a deep groan escapes from her throat when your hand travels up to grip her hair. another moan leaves your throat when she lets one of her hands travel down beneath her your sleepshirt.

so you were both equally desperate. and it was amazing.

now her quick kisses before boxing matches had a fair chance of turning into heated make-out sessions and quickies, her scarred lips smiling as she whispered how she needed to complete her ‘winning ritual’ before she goes out to fight, which usually consists of her getting on her knees and eating you out until you’re dizzy. she also loved downright groping you whenever she got the chance when you slept over at her apartment. you could be mopping the floors and she wouldn’t hesitate to reach down and squeeze or slap your ass before walking off like nothing happened.

and though you initially didn't suspect it, you find out she can be incredibly possessive. and again, it was amazing.

once you started to become more official vi made sure you had a front-row ticket to her matches so she could turn her head and spot you whenever she was in the ring. she was scheduled to fight some up-and-coming boxer who was known for her big mouth, and after shit-talking vi one too many times in the press your girlfriend was more than eager to step into the ring. you just didn't expect the woman to have an apparent death wish as she openly flirted with you before the match started, blowing you a kiss and a wink before coming face to face with an uncommonly calm violet.

it was one of the faster knockouts she'd gotten in her career.

as soon as the press and her team were done talking to her she gave you a look. a look that said “get your ass in the car because you are so getting messed up when we get home,,”

and so, you get your ass in the car. and not even an hour later, she makes good on her silent words.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“thats it, take it baby. just fucking take it.”

when you had called vi depraved you truly meant it, as there was no other way to describe the provocative posiiton she had you in - your body pliant and settled on top of hers as her arms wrapped under your kneed and locked behind your head.

all of it was just so deliciously disorienting. the way her feet planted on to the mattress so that she could use her core to thrust her hot pink strap inside of your cunt, the frequent growls and grunts she let fly right next to your ear, how her clasped hands kept forcing your head from rolling back to looking down-

you let out a pitifully desperate whine when your eyesight locks onto the sight of your body from the mirror she dragged over to the front of the bed. youd felt a zap go through your body as she was doing so, and it was only increased ten fold as you saw the creamy mess between your thighs, strings of your slick expanding and contracting each time she pounded herself into you.

“god, i can feel you clenching around me. you like looking at how fucking messy i make you?” violet sneers before delivering a random harsh thrust inside you, laughing nearly cruelly when an odd squeaking comes from your throat.

“aw don't worry baby, i love it too. sounds so fucking good, should've set up a god damn camera-”

it is definitely not embarrassing how loudly you moan at that. you aren't allowed to be bashful when violet giggles into your shoulder. she brings one of her hands to wrap around your throat while the other travels downwards. she brushes over your breasts and stomach, reveling in the ripple it causes when you take a shaky inhale at the feeling.

you’re so caught up in the contradictory softness of her touch and the roughness of her hips movements that you’re more than shocked when she raises her hand and brings it down in a hard slap against your thigh. your hips involuntarily move up into her palm while down towards the strap, conflicted on which pleasure you want to overwhelm you.

“come on, don't run from it. we know you can take it.” she groaned, bringing her hand down in another rough slap against your thigh. she was never the most jealous person. she was never in a relationship long enough to be jealous. but seeing you fall apart for her so desperately after that bitch had the nerve to hit on you in front of her put a sick feeling of satisfaction in the pit of her chest.

your whines start to take on a higher pitch that reveals to her you’re closer than ever to your orgasm. high off of the win and the euphoria of fucking you and feeling the base of her dick bumping into her clit with each thrust, she decides to take a gamble and do something that she knows will make you make a mess for her.

there are no words to describe the full-body feeling you have at her rough palm smacking down on your clit, or the way your orgasm rips out of you like a bullet train. it’s so powerful it nearly hurts, and no matter how much you try to arch away from her she uses her grip to hold you down and follows you up with her hips.

“nuh uh, don't fucking run from me, baby. just feel it, god take it, bet you look so fucking pretty.”

the pleasure feels like it lasts for hours, and its only halfway through that you realize you’re leaking all over both of you and the sheets. you also realize that the experience has brought violet to a fiery orgasm herself, her body pushing through the pleasure as she uses shaky thrusts to help the both of you ride through your orgasms.

with how much she loves being affectionate, it's no surprise that vi is a god at aftercare. once it's clear your high has passed and you’re teasing the edge of sleep she immediately gets to work by slowly slipping the strap out of you and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek when you whimper at the object leaving your warmth. ever so gently she handles your body to slip off of hers and rest on the bed and on shaky legs walks to get a rag from the bathroom.

after cleaning both of you off she tosses the strap to the floor to be cleaned later and flops in bed next to you. as she lays on her stomach she rests her arm over your body, pulling you in ever closer to her.

“y’know i think that reaction gives me permission to start calling you jealous.” your voice is quiet but hoarse and gives her just the littlest bit of pride.

“’m not jealous. maybe i just can’t get enough of you.”

god, you hope you get flirted with more often.

[luveline]

Hotch request w Jack and new baby!!! Coming back from the hospital and reader is in bed with new baby and Jack while Aaron is in another part of the house (maybe making food in the kitchen) and reader starts crying because she’s in pain and jack is all concerned and sweet and goes to get Aaron??

thank you for requesting, sorry I messed up where everyone was! fem, 1.3k

“He’s gonna stab him!” 

You blink from the spot you’d been staring at, pain momentarily forgotten. “What! Where’d you learn that word?” you ask in surprise. 

Jack leans back against his big velvet pillow, blue with silver stars, looking as though he’s in the lap of luxury. “At school.” 

The cartoon mouse on the TV raises his fencing sword high in the air. 

“He’s not stabbing anyone, they’re fencing,” you say, reaching for his hand to hold. “Stabbing… that’s pretty scary. How did that make you feel?” 

“Well, I’m not gonna stab anyone,” Jack says. 

He’s confused that you’re making a fuss, just old enough to realise you’re poking around for his feelings. You worry lately that you aren’t paying him enough attention because of his new brother, and the word stab isn’t exactly age appropriate. 

But maybe that’s what the boys his age are talking about? You frown more, your hand slipping along his arm to curl behind him. You pull him toward you. “Come on, handsome. Cuddle me.” 

You’re too sore to move, so Jack has to come to you. He crawls across the couch until his arms can wrap around you and his cheek can rest against your chest. Stab is an apt word for the feeling in your stomach. Jack’s arm squeezes at you and the pain worsens, so you move it up your front and curl your arm around him. 

“Is it a bad word?” he asks. 

“No, it’s just like hit or slap, I guess. And I know you’re not gonna do any of that to anyone. You’re too gentle.” 

“Gentle is a good word.” 

“Yeah.” You kiss his forehead, a moment of self indulgence. You love your stepson, and he is oh so kissable. “Oh no, look at the mouse.” 

Charlie sleeps in his swing seat, the soft whirring of its constant motion almost as comforting as the sound of his soft breaths. You watch him for a while, Jack climbing up at your side to press his face to your neck, leg on your thigh, slowly pressing against the tenderness that is your abdomen. “Uh, Jack,” you breathe, trying to pick him up, “you’re gonna have to climb off of me, my tummy hurts too much.” 

“Sorry,” he says quickly, slipping off of you and onto the couch cushion. His foot kicks out as he rights himself, a jamming of his toes against the pain like a spike. 

You take a deep breath. Ouch. 

“It’s okay,” you say, groaning softly as the pain thrums, hand on your stomach as though your touch can make it stop, “just a tummy ache. I– I’m okay.” 

“You got little tears?” he says, his voice going wobbly. You try to blink away tears and end up with a straggler curving down the slope of your cheek. “I’ll go get dad!” 

“Jack, I’m okay,” you say. 

Too late. Jack scrambles from the couch and away from you, up the stairs to find his father. You’re not sure what Aaron’s up to, he’d only said, “I’ll be right back,” twenty minutes ago. You’d guessed laundry. 

You’re glad Jack’s run upstairs when you realise the pain isn’t going away. It’s not bad, not half as bad as your contractions had been, but the whole labour process has sapped you, and you feel weak as a willow branch in bad weather. You shift heavily onto one leg and cross them, uncross them when the pain spikes again, letting out a weird and breathless whine as it turns to a full blown cramp. 

Jack returns with Aaron in tow. His hair is dripping wet, soap suds on his neck and his shirt stuck to his chest. He’s rushed out of the shower to see you. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he rounds the couch. “Jack told me you’re not feeling well.” 

You hold your arms out for a hug. He doesn’t falter, simply does as you want, his hair wringing wet and dripping onto your shoulder as he gathers you in his arms. 

You hold onto him like a lifeline. The cramp curls, and tightens, has you seizing up against him. 

“What is it?” he asks softly. “Stomach pains again?” 

The nurse said it’s your uterus shrinking. Whatever it is, it’s sudden agony. You shudder into Aaron’s shoulder until the pain pangs and fades, leaving your stomach a tense mess. It hurts to move, so you stay clinging to your husband and let him hover over you. 

“Are you okay?” Jack asks.

You sniff. 

Aaron pulls away to take your face into his hands. He holds you with care, his thumbs under your jaw, index fingers running diagonally under each eye, tips at your brows. Just a stolen few seconds for him to check you over. No tears to be wiped away. 

“Still hurting?” 

You shake your head, eyebrows pulled down in a bad frown. 

“Okay. Alright. Motrin?” he asks. 

“No,” you whisper, “can you just stay here?” 

Jack says your name. 

You peek past Aaron’s body. “Jack, sorry.” 

“Are you okay now?” 

You grimace, “I’m gonna be fine, it just hurts sometimes and I didn’t have any medicine today. That’s all. Sorry, I scared you.” 

“You didn’t scare me,” he denies. 

You can’t help smiling, then. “Okay, I didn’t. Thanks for getting dad for me.” 

“He’s our hero,” Aaron says. He sits down beside you carefully, his voice quiet and his hand gentle as he holds your thigh. “I’m glad he did.” 

Jack climbs into his dad’s lap. Aaron wraps an arm around him, the other at your side, fingers tapping at you. 

You rub your forehead. Tip your head back and take a deep breath. 

“Jack,” you whisper, breathing out, “I’m sorry if I startled you. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

“It wasn’t scary, I said that already.” 

“Oh, you did?” Aaron teases. 

“It was okay, I just don’t want you to hurt.” 

“Only baby pains,” you say. 

For a few minutes, you and your small family sit there in silence. Aaron works a hand behind your back to hug you, Jack snuggles into his chest, and Charlie stirs in his swing seat. The quiet calms him, and he goes back to his soft snoring seconds later. 

“I’m sorry about your shower,” you whisper. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry about my baby,” Aaron whispers back, drawing circles into your lower back, “he didn’t mean to chew you up.” 

“Ugh, I know.” 

Jack raises his nose. “What? Chew? Do babies bite?” 

“It’s an expression, babe.” 

“Oh.” He looks at his baby brother with suspicion anyways. “He doesn’t even have teeth?” 

“Buddy, it’s just a joke,” Aaron says, laughing as Jack slips out of his lap to go and look at Charlie in the seat. 

“Maybe he did have teeth,” you say. 

Aaron ushers you toward him, rests his cheek on your forehead. “It’ll feel better soon. You need to rest, that’s all.” 

“Your hair is so wet.” 

“I was in the shower.” 

“Sorry…” 

“Don’t be,” he says. “Don’t be.” 

You reach up to tousle his wet hair. “Miss showering with you.” 

“We showered last night.” 

“No, I stood there and you helped me wash my back, that’s not the same.” 

“Well, I enjoyed it.” 

“I bet you did.” 

Your fondness attracts many, many kisses, his nose nuzzling your cheek. You settle under the weight of him and watch Jack where he frowns at Charlie, big brown eyes squinted, waiting for a show of teeth that won’t happen. Aaron brings a hand to your tense stomach, waiting for you to lean back before he begins massaging the tensed muscle there with a slowness that borders unmoving. 

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” he says. 

“You can go finish your shower.” 

“I was finished. M’gonna start pressing in, okay?” 

You wince as Aaron begins, but slowly, slowly, the tenseness from your cramp softens. It still hurts, but he makes it manageable. Jack delivered your rescuer, and your rescuer loves a soft touch.

[retiredteabag]

Uncle sukuna

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Uncle Sukuna hates children and that just makes kids like him more.

They are practically magnetized to the man.

If he was being honest, he's really just afraid of hurting them, that and he has no idea how to handle a crying child. So, he avoids them at all cost.

Sometimes there's just nothing he can do though, especially when a little monster like his nephew is napping on his chest.

Which he does frequently.

Sukuna would be mean. Straight up telling the kid he was annoying. Yuuji would almost never care.

Almost.

“Don’t even think about it you little brat.” Sukuna would protest, seeing Yuuji crawling across the sofa. “Nu uh. No. Get your sticky little hands off of me!”

But eventually he would have to give in, rolling his eyes as Yuuji found his place- drooling over Sukuna’s shoulder.

Sukuna was also the type to say no and never mean it.

���Can we watch my show kuna?”

“No.”

Five minutes later? They’re smooshed together watching Yuuji’s stupid cartoon.

“Uncuna… can you help with my math homework please?”

“No.”

The next second Sukuna is in full tutor mode.

You might think that he’s the type to make a kid cry over their geometry work, but he is typically more patient than expected.

“Kuna can you make me some cinnamon toast?”

“No.”

“Pleaseeeee?????”

“No, Yuuji.” He’s firm.

Yuuji knows he’s getting that toast.

Sukuna has a love hate relationship with the kid. For Yuuji, it’s just love. That’s why, on the rare occasion, Sukuna might be just a little too rough on him.

It would likely be after a long day, maybe he worked late, maybe he had to deal with a rude person, maybe he didn’t sleep well. Whatever the case, the tattooed man would have an already short fuse when he walked in the door.

Unaware of his bad mood, Yuuji would flip around on the sofa, hearing the key turn in the door.

“KUNA!!!”

Yuuji would bound off the couch, racing for his uncle. Sukuna would sigh and roll his eyes as the boys grubby little hands encircled his leg.

“Kuna kuna! I had a presentation at school today! And I did a really good job because everybody clapped at the end like this-“ the boy smacks his hands together over and over, a big smile on his face, “I was so nervous but now that it’s all over, I wish I could do it again! It was so fun! I can’t wait for my next presentation-“

“Oh my gosh Yuuji will you shut up? I really do not care about your school project.” Sukuna would know the second it left his mouth it wouldn’t be true.

Yuujis little arms would fall away from his uncle. A frown would cover his face. “O-oh okay.” He would stumble back, watching his uncles face.

Sukuna would groan inwardly. Knowing he had been too harsh. He never actually minded hearing about his nephews day, he was just overstimulated and now he felt awful. The little boy was holding up a strong facade but his lip wobbled. The man would sigh.

“Ugh, Yuuji, I’m sorry kid, that was wrong of me-“

“No.” The boy would sniffle, “s’okay. M’sorry for making you mad.”

Oh, now Sukuna might as well walk into oncoming traffic.

He sighs, “No, Yuuji, you didn’t do a thing wrong. Don’t apologize for anything, alright?” He would run a hand through his cropped pink hair, “listen, I’m glad your presentation went well, that’s good, how about we go get dinner after I wash up, whatever ya want.”

Yuujis eyes would widen, a big grin coming back, “Yeah?!” Sukuna would sigh at the kids forgiving nature.

“Yeah, kid, I’m starved.”

Yuuji would bounce up and down, then, without a moment’s hesitation, throw himself around his uncles leg.

Sukuna would pat the boys hair, cursing himself for being so short with the kid.

And after being so annoyed just a second ago, after watching Yuuji race off to change his clothes, Sukuna realized he had forgotten what had ruined his day to begin with.

Cute little brat.

[miniimight]

❝ CAN YOU STOP PUTTING EVERYTHING ON THE TOP SHELVES?! ❞ you finally talk to him after a little argument ( height difference )

with deku, bakugou, rody

IZUKU

he tried to look nonchalant as he responded with a questioning hum. yeah, he was putting stuff on the top shelves. "hmm, what?"

you crossed your arms and glared at him. "you heard me."

he turned to you with the picture of innocence plastered on his face. "i don't know what you mean, i just put things where i put them. it just happens that they're high up."

you raised an accusatory eyebrow.

"for you, anyway." he mumbled, turning back to make his sandwich.

"exactly!" you exclaimed. "for me! you know i can't reach things up there and you do it on purpose!" you found your face was hot as you explained it.

you knew exactly why—you both had gotten into a little fight and you weren't talking to him for a while. this was the first time you had spoken since the argument, and even though you were yelling at him, your voice was music to his ears.

a small smile spread on his face despite his efforts to feign innocence. "on purpose?"

"yes!"

he paused, walking towards you. his disregard for space led to you being crammed against the counter behind you. he leaned over you and asked, "what it is that you need, love?"

your cheeks heated and you cast your gaze to the floor. "the box up there..." you murmured. he stretched to reach it and you flattened your palms against his chest. "izuku! you're squishing me—!"

he chuckled and brought the box down to the counter before kissing your forehead. "i'm glad we're talking again."

BAKUGO

"what was that?" he asked you, a knowing smirk on his face.

you huffed, already on top the counter trying (and failing) to reach the stupid box you needed. "i said stop putting shit on the top shelves. you know i can't reach it."

he shrugged, turning his attention back to his phone. "i dunno what you're talkin' about, princess."

you glared and pointed to the box. "you don't even use it?!"

"aw, don't jump the gun on me now, babe. you know i like to switch things up a lil' bit." he grinned, taking so much joy in your visible frustration. he was just happy you were speaking with him again.

you rolled your eyes, electing to ignore him as you tried your best not to fall off the surface or pull the cabinet down with you.

bakugo eyed you carefully as he threw away the thought of you begging for his help, reluctantly decided your immediate safety was more important. "'kay, that's enough." he walked over, his hands on your hips steadying your wobbly movement. "you'll hurt yourself, y/n. come down."

"i want that stupid box..." you pouted.

he rolled his eyes, his arms now circling around you as he lifted you off the counter. you gasped and curled your legs towards your body, clutching his wrists.

"oh, relax, you know i won't drop ya." he grumbled and set you down next to him. he easily plucked the box from its high perch, handing it to you.

"happy now?" he pinched your cheek. "stubborn brat. could've broken a bone or somethin'."

RODY

"what, having trouble sweetheart?" he snickered.

your face heated and you huffed. "rody... just get it for me, please."

"hmmm..." he pretended he was thinking hard. "i think... no."

you looked at him incredulously. "no? you put it up there!"

"i so did not." he turned up his nose, though pino was smiling and nodding her head.

you narrowed your eyes at him. "you're sabotaging me into breaking your silent treatment."

"whaaaat?" he exaggerated confusion. he held his head and pointed at himself dumbly. "me?"

"you're impossible." you rolled your eyes, moving to climb onto the counter.

"in any case, my plan worked wonderfully," his signature smirk graced his lips as he laughed softly, leaning against the wall to survey your distress.

your fingers just about brushed the side of the box before pino crashed into it, sending it further back and completely out of your reach. you swiveled to glare at the little pink bird. "pino!"

she bashfully twirled in the air before happily fluttering away.

rody's laughter filled your ears and you groaned, resting your head against the shelf. you heard shuffling—when you looked up, rody and his stupid smug smirk was beside you, easily bringing the box down.

"now we both look stupid, yeah?" he pressed a fat kiss on your cheek and softened when you laughed brightly.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ SORRY FOR THE WAIT

tw. yandere, blood/violence implied domestic violence, dubcon, amnesia, obsession, character death, pseudo-cest, overprotective Levi, praise kink, slight authority kink, creampie, marking, non-linear timeline

wordcount. 6.2k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by @amonsterinspring ♡ thank you A MILLION for commissioning mE !! I’ve never written Levi so I was a tiny bit apprehensive but I actually very much enjoyed him and I’m glad you wanted no regrets Levi because he’s so inch resting to meeeee !! So happy to be writing gross shit again <33 i hope you enjoy it !!! And Ofc so many big thanks to rhi and mel for beta-ing <33

levi ackerman x fem!reader

Headquarters’ up in too much outrage for it to be five in the morning, but evidently, things rarely are as they should be here. He barely manages to tie his shirt closed before Hange and Moblit show up behind him, walking down the stairs with a pace slightly too vigorous for an early morning. Damn long legs. Levi’s impatience boils over when neither says anything, or anything of use in four-eyes’ case, and he makes his way toward the courtyard with a tight grunt. “Yer awfully tight-lipped considering.”

Hange nods. “I’m not sure what to say, is all. I could explain…” Her normally talkative hands are set on her hips as she pauses, and once again Levi feels his irritation spiking.

“But? Get to the point, Hange.”

She’s got a look on her face that gives absolutely nothing away.

“It’ll be easier for you to see for yourself, squad commander.” Moblit dutifully finishes, pointing the way through the dusty open area to the long hall. It’s mostly higher ups that walk around the place, some ducking their gaze to avoid his. His glare is instinctive. The lack of swords at his hips leaves his hands settling slightly uncomfortably at his belt instead as he walks, following behind the longer steps of his companions until they finally land at the door.

Expecting, Hange turns to look at him. “Questioning hasn’t lead far, you see. But don’t worry, we handled the situation gently! We all just figured- it might make things easier to bring you here instead of trying to force a break though when… well- you know.”

His eyebrows pull together without any further effort, and his already thin patience this early in the day glides onto it’s last legs. “What the hell are you talking about?” Rambling nonsense as always. He finds his hands moving before he’s able to call upon his patience.

He pushes the door open to the small office, takes in the bookshelves, the desk, pristine— before his stormy gaze falls onto the broad-shouldered blond hunched over. Or more, the figure he’s squatted overhead while Levi walks in. “Erwin? What the fuck are you playing- at.”

A soft, wheezed breath catches him off guard, only spying flashes of the mud-crusted feet, bruised, knobbly knees. He takes a breath, watches Erwin move aside to reveal the scene. Levi suddenly stops halfway when his stomach rolls, and there’s a dull moment where his heart starts to beat between his ears. Loud, hammering his eardrums, it almost has him tumbling over his own feet.

The face lets out a slight smile when watery eyes trail his way- and immediately spill over into thick beads that drip down the long stretch of exposed neck. A faint voice meets his lips like he’s tasting it, and the air in the room goes electric. “L- Levi nii!”

It’s you. Bruised eye and a bit older, but there’s no mistaking that face. The crybaby, wobbly lip, those long, wet lashes. His own breath escapes him for just a moment, only to see you crawl hands and knees towards him as much as the cuffs will allow you.

Hange nods out of the corners of his eyes. “That’s all she’s been able to repeat since we found her. A face you recognise?”

His hands manage to unclench from his belt only to drop aimlessly by his thighs. His eyes can’t move from your shape, a heavy, familiar feeling settling in his chest. You’re actually here. He’s looking you in the face, that same open, accepting gaze that got him the first time.

You found him.

You are asking for him.

+

Your eyes are blurry from the cold, breaths coming out in puffs in front of your face. You’re stumbling more than walking, as your feet scrape, as they cut open on the thorns that litter the grounds along with the wet leaves— snow touching your face as it falls, your shoulders slumping in defeat.

It’s so cold, you’re so cold and your limbs feel stoned and useless, as you drag yourself on towards the sound of water. Your throat aches, so does your stomach.

You try to remember the place you came from and walk on and on, if only to get a little further away from the threat of violence by strangers. The world’s so barren. Your breaths cloud before you, blurring your vision more. Puff, puff, puff— and you stumble. By landing onto your hands and knees, you scrape both hard in the process, only barely saving yourself from connecting your face with the dirt, and the lack of sleep, of a safe place to curl up and hide away all have your bottom lip wobbling like crazy.

Almost childishly, you just wish a prince on a white horse would come to sweep you away from here. It hurts. The soles of your feet, your face, the swollen area around your eye and brow and your stomach too, going empty for about a day now. You think. Your hands have landed on snow that doesn’t stick long, but it makes it almost impossible to get up and continue. You don’t even remember where you came from, let alone where you were going.

There’s a nice, cloudy gap in your memory where anything of purpose is supposed to sit. You don’t remember your name. Matted hair sticks to your face, and your clothes no longer serve as anything other than another layer to keep the cold, and wet slicked nicely to your body until you freeze to death. The river sounds close, but also still so far away. 

Snow falls, and you cast your eyes up through the trees, frozen lashes, cold lips. “Help me,” you croak out, to no one. To yourself. It doesn’t make sense why you push on,  but your body moves robotically up from the floor as if controlled by strings, only to stumble over your own feet every few steps. You might not remember anything else, but for some reason— against all logic, you do remember one thing. A name.

It’s the tiny, flickering flame that pushes you on and on as your vision blurs, as energy seeps out of you with each step, with each breath straining against the weight of your own ribs. A flame that becomes more and more faint as you reach pebbles, a slight opening in the trees where snow does stick.

You’re tired, and you want to go home. You want to curl up into a ball and die. Your eyelids flutter shut as you fall still, trying everything to keep upright.

A rhythmic sound approaching. Horses. “Help me,” you squeak. You think you do, if your voice even makes it out of you.

Some noise comes closer, but before you can see it through, your body gives out and you land onto the snowy ground with a thump— knocking you out cold.

+

“She’s obviously not dangerous, Erwin,” Levi presses fingers to his temple. The crowded room is doing absolutely nothing to relieve the migraine that’s been steadily building since this morning. The meeting room’s filled with people buzzing around like a bunch of insects.

Erwin stands from his desk. “As soon as we’re finished, I can have Miche escort her to a nice room-”

“No. I don’t want anyone else,” Levi bites out, “bringing her anywhere without me around.” His head aches, teeth gritting. His bitching and moaning won’t sway the commander, but still. Miche’s still perched against the windowsill, heavy eyes scanning him. 

It’s been years— the guilt of that fact sits heavy on his lungs.

Despite the order otherwise, he marches past and out the door. “I’m taking her to my room. Discussion, over.”

“Captain Levi!” Nifa calls after him, but a sturdy arm stops her in her path with only a tired sigh. The tall form squares his shoulders as Hange takes a seat in one of the chairs across him. He looks tenser than normal.

“And?”

Her glasses are pushed higher on her nose. “She’s no titan, if that’s what you’re worried about. My best guess is amnesia of some kind. I couldn’t say how she got it, though.” After a few seconds, she glances at Moblit. “Say, it isn’t just me, right? Her and Levi totally had something going on, right?”

+

“Sit down. Right there.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

His hand sits low on your back as he guides you into the slightly damp room. Small windows are fogged up high on the wall. Your arms are wrapped uncomfortably around yourself along with the dry jacket over your wet shoulders, and you trepidatiously walk into the tiled room, barefoot. Levi sighs behind you, voice clearing. “Go on.” It feels like it’s a familiar sound, and you follow the order. It’s been a few weeks, but you have still yet to connect the name to the face.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t exactly the short, head-strong noiret before you. Or rather, you hoped it would’ve sparked something.

You sit at the edge of the baths with a pout and the steam of the filled tub sticks to your lashes. You only manage to strip yourself of Levi’s jacket with his prompting. His hands aren’t soft, but the motion is gentle when sliding the fabric off of you, watching your clammy form unfold as he strips you of the drenched shirt, starts helping you out of the pants. You whisper a slight ‘thank you’ under your breath, because any more right now would take more energy than you have left to expel.

He looks up from where he’s kneeled beside you almost too close, thin brows furrowing as he looks up. “I told you, you’re not supposed to leave unless I’m right on your heel. In any situation. Not only that, but you just about chose the worst weather to make your little break, too.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.’ It makes him frown, nose scrunching, when he has to pull hard to get the pants over your ankles and scratches up feet, dirty and ice cold.

“You’ll be sick by tomorrow.” He’s probably not wrong. The ashy grey eyes flick up at you with -what you guess must be concern- as they shimmer almost brilliantly. It looks a bit strange on his hard, angular face.

You wouldn’t know if it is out of place. He looks cold on the outside. Harsh features, calloused hands, scars wherever you look. You don’t remember what brought you here, or what type of relationship you had. Levi’s care for you so far tells you you two were close, and they’ve told you that you kept saying him name over and over again. You feel like you should trust him. It sucks that you can’t. For some reason, something takes on your breath when you sit still too long.

“I got scared,” you slowly admit, picking at your nails. Like you had to run, run far away. The room they gave you a suffocatingly tight hug.

That’s how you ended up stumbling out of the courtyard towards the woods.

If he’s surprised by your confession, it doesn’t show on his face. He only continues to drop the wet clothes in a pile, then nods his face at the water. “Get in.” His hand takes yours to help you inside the bath, before slowly lacing his fingers with yours. It’s not so much the nakedness you have a problem with, as the lack of his own. Not the quiet you hate, as much as the fact that anyone could come into the communal bathroom when they want. But you don’t want to disappoint Levi by disobeying him twice in a night, so you sit.

Watch him chew on his words for a long time, before speaking. “Are you starting to remember anything yet?”

You suck your lips. “Not really. Not yet.” You remember flashes of Levi’s sharp eyes. Of friends, maybe family? A blond head of hair, a redhead. Sitting in the dark, sleeplessness taking you over. You remember your achy wrists, and you feel it even now, without the cuffs they slapped on you at first. You’re told Levi asked them away— and you’re thankful for that.

”Captain…”

Levi’s other hand wraps around your intertwined ones, and he closes his eyes. “I can’t believe any of this shit. You got taken away from me before— And now, all this…” His expression turns darker as he stares past you, almost as if looking at someone else. “They must’ve really done a number on you, if you don’t remember.” Frost washes over those steely eyes, and his mouth pulls into a thin line. “You promised to stay by my side. I know you never would’ve wanted to break your promise.”

But then he puts his hand on the back of your neck.

The hot steam travels up around you, as he sits beside the tub close enough he could wrap you up in a hug, looking at you like you’re an abandoned toy in need of fixing up. You blink wet lashes at him until he leans in, slots his warm mouth against yours, and his hair tickles your face. His lashes brush your cheeks, and his free hand comes to pet your cheek every so softly. “I’m here now,” his voice is low but as soft as you’ve ever heard him, as he rests his forehead against yours. “I won’t let you put yourself in danger again, okay?”

Your body’s still wound tight from earlier, but it’s only natural that you mellow out in the warmth. “Even if you never get your memories back, I’ll be here for you.” Against the cold of the coming winter, the way he brushes your hair feels so nice. It allows you to let Levi run his lips along your cheek to your jaw, short, puffed breaths against your skin as he pulls you close.

His plush lips linger over your heartbeat, and you swallow against the prey-like urge to scamper out of reach, to instead wrap your arms back around him. Droplets bleed into his shirt, but he doesn’t care one bit. His eyes flutter open and closed a few times as he pulls you into him more, leaning over the edge of the tub to kiss needy kisses all along your neck, to where your shoulder meets your throat.

You instinctively let out a gasp when he bites down, before laving the spot with his lips and tongue. “D’you like this? Does that feel good, baby?” His voice is almost soft, when those dark, blown out irises find you, and you’re letting out tense breaths against him. “Feel good?”

“Mhm.” It’s not hard to figure out what you two were before you got back here. His hand slips down your spine into the water to lift you up against him, pushing his hot lips against you again and again. You taste his tongue, taste his spit when you run your hands through his hair and pull slightly. Not too long ago, this must’ve tasted like love.

You pull back to bite your lip, feel a guilt come over you as you watch him. So hungry for you, it clearly bothers him to be even a few inches away from you. 

“I’m sorry for not remembering,” you whisper. Your voice wants to fail you, but you refuse to let tears take over. That wouldn’t be fair to him. A brief pause, then you swallow, eyes fixing on him with a genuine curiosity. “Do you remember everything, Captain Levi?” 

+

The dark itches his skin, takes on his breath. There’s a stench of ammonia, thick, pungent, it almost knocks him over. But that doesn’t matter much when his eyes slide over the dusty, trash-filled room for what he’s looking for. He kicks the bloodied face to the side, pulling his knife out from the pierced temple to wipe it on a handkerchief and pull up his nose. “Fuckin’ pig sty.”

It’s Jan who bothers to search through the dresser, pocketing a few stacks of money. “That’s about 300, Levi.” Not enough. He somehow doubts that anything they find will be enough to pay back the debt. One of the other men closes in on the safe, kneeling before it. Levi’s tight frown only digs deeper.

It wouldn’t take too much to break that open, so with the two of them, they start sliding it out of the spot under the makeshift register. “The rest’s probably in here.”

“Yeah.” He brushes his hair out of his face, ready to leave the brothel behind. It’s only an afterthought to slide open the door of the liquor pantry; kicking through the lock with impatience set on his face. The old wood gives way with a sad creak, and Levi pushes inside. There’s nothing of value, figures.

Only a small cage shoved in the corner, and his hands drop to his side.

“Levi?” Someone calls at his back.

A ghostly figure sits unmoving, crumpled into itself, metal dog collar around the neck— big, desperate eyes avoiding the light streaming into the indentation. Big, obvious blotches litter your skin top to bottom, lips swollen and cracked, your skin almost mannequin-like by the unwashed sheen. His stomach turns at the sight… but more than disgust, he’s taken aback by something else.

His breath stops in his throat for a few beats, as he stares at the pathetic rise and fall of your chest in that skimpy little outfit, pure white lace against the darkness. The pity of your situation is by far outweighed by the beauty of you, and the way his heart pounds in his chest.

He should feel worse. He should probably hate the feeling. The way you stare up at him like a kicked puppy. His mouth cracks open a sliver, slow breath in, slower breath out. If you had a tail, it would wag at the sight of him.

The way you’re looking up at your saviour makes him feel important.

+

The door thumps before bouncing back into the lock, and a breeze tingles your neck as you snuggle deeper into the blankets. It’s not much, but it’s more than you’ve gotten used to with your last owner. It’s more than enough to sleep comfortably, only hindered by the heavy metal chain that sits around your ankle. You’re not sure why he believes you’d go anywhere. A heavy body drops into the mattress meant for one. For a brief moment, your shoulders rise up to protect your face, spine tensing.

A brief moment that melts away in an instant when you’re confronted by ocean blue eyes in the dark, a soft smile sitting on his cheeks. “Sleepy?” the young man asks, not expecting much of a response before landing his palm on your head in a comforting sort of motion. It’s a drag more than a pat, and his thumb brushes almost patiently over your forehead from between your brows to your crown. A warmth you’ve never really experienced before. If you were sleepy, you no longer are.

Farlan’s a comforting presence that’s only gotten more important with each passing day. The windows to your room are usually leaned open, enough to stick a few fingers through, not your whole hand. It’s enough during the day to catch his eyes peeking up at you from the courtyard, and smiling back when you wave. A sad, guilty sort of smile.

Farlan smells like wood and musk and soap, and to you, it’s the closest you can get to being out there with them with the chain on your ankle.

You swallow, bite your lip. “Levi nii doesn’t like me, does he?”

His blond hair bounces as he rolls onto his side in the silence, and watches you with a strange sort of calculation in his eyes. His hand falls still on your crown, but you lean into the touch before he pulls back. The heat is just so nice. It builds in your cheeks, makes your eyes feel a little hazy, your face softer. Farlan chews on his tongue before speaking. “Why do you think that?”

It’s not so hard to tell. Everyone else is allowed outside. There’s people who come around every day, they carry boxes, work in the street, talk to each other whenever they want. It’s only you that’s kept inside this room— staring at them through the windows; and more than that, Levi always locks the door when they come around. You don’t blame him. You’re sure that if you were better, he wouldn’t have to. You can’t blame the person who saved your life for dealing with you in the way he knows how.

Instead of explaining all that you simply shake your foot, and the loud changing of the metal links fill the room.

Farlan’s eyebrows narrow, and not for the first time, a look of helplessness swipes over his features. “I’m pretty sure Levi aniiki… doesn’t dislike you. He doesn’t even let me in here, normally.”

He pulls the blankets back a bit, uncovering your shoulders from the plush, trails his eyes over the skin in the dark. A fingertip presses into a spot under your jaw that’s achy and bruised that’s only stopped hurting so bad this morning. Then he slides the touch down to the crook of your neck, taps onto another mark. “That Levi aniiki’s doing?”

They’re littered all over.

You don’t have to nod. His expression dims. “Do you even know what’s happening to you here? You don’t, do you.” The words come faster, lingering in the stuffy room. His face shifts, from knowledge, to worry. “Do you even like Levi like that?” Your face goes pouty, and you feel yourself wanting to tilt your head. Confused. A wordless question. Like what, your brain supplies, but maybe because you feel a bit stupid, you don’t speak it.

Maybe because of the closeness and the heat in your face and the warmth of his touch, his care, his attention— you can’t do anything but suck your bottom lip between your teeth. Farlan’s face is closer than it was, you’ve pushed yourself closer. The darkness of night no longer feels so dark when he’s here with you and your heart’s beating fast, really fast. It’s slamming rhythmically in the silence. He pulls his hand away as he smiles, but you reach out to grab it. “Do you like him?” He asks again.

Do you like Levi nii? Of course you do. If not for him you might’ve been left behind forever, stashed behind the walls like a dirty secret. It’s a given that you like him. You like that he sits with you and tells you you’re pretty and when he comes home for the night he lets you snuggle up on his chest and feel every bit of touch that you were missing during the day. When he’s nice he’s really nice, though he doesn’t like to say it in words. You’re similar in that way.

When he’s happy with you, you get spoiled. You like Levi. Farlan’s finger brushes over the tip of your nose when you bring it close to your face, soft, searching touch. It isn’t the same as Levi’s closeness though. When Farlan’s close, you feel entirely floaty, drifting on the breeze of the breaths you two share. Levi’s kind of like is grounded. The blond’s staring like he’s seeing every cell of you at once, and you find yourself saying something before you can think about it fully. “I like you.”

He smiles genuinely at that, taken aback. You two share the space in the bed that’s yours alone. You take up the space nudged into the crook of his neck, feel the breaths dust over your crown. You’re sure when your throat runs dry, and your lashes flutter against his skin.

After a few minutes of quiet, Farlan finally seems to breathe a full breath again. “Tell me. Do you want me to take you out of here?”

Your eyes flutter. A tense, slight frown comes to sit between your brows, and your lips jut into a pout.

+

“Here, be a good girl.” Your big eyes shift from the door back to him, when he kneads his hands that are settled on your tits, rubbing your pebbled nipples until you shift. A little from the touch, a little from your discomfort as you’re gyrating onto his body. You try to nod, he thinks, because your interrupted by a shiver when his mouth takes one of them inside to suck, and have you whimpering above him. Cute. Moldable.

Your hands move to his head to practically curl yourself around his head and trail your hands through his hair like you’re a kneading cat, and your motion shoves his face between your tits even more. It’s so fucking cute, perfect, as you squirm like you’re not sure what to do with yourself. He’s pretty sure that’s actually quite accurate. As you’re moaning and squeaking though, and he shifts to the other nipple to rub his tongue over it, you let out a soft whine. “Levi nii- it’s… I-embarrassing.”

He grunts into your embrace, one hand slipping around to get under your ass and reposition you onto him better, so that the heat of your pussy grinds against him through the thin scraps of fabric you’re dressed in. “It’s not embarrassing. You’re doing good.” His cock’s rock hard against you. Shouldn’t that be enough to tell you that? If you had any experience with any of this, it would.

“It is!” You pant, and your hips stop moving around like you’re halfway to crawling away, to unclamp yourself from his head, to lean back onto both arms and watch him through teary, drowsy eyes. “I keep making noises even though I don’t mean to, and everything feels weird- and- and I’m sticky, aniiki.” A brilliant blush sits on your face, from your nose to your ears, and it’s as hot as it is adorable, the way you’re writhing around a bit like an animal in heat. He doesn’t need to ask if it feels good, because it’s written on your face. 

He goes back to playing with your tits a bit longer, because you’re so soft and warm and wrapped in his blankets, he just wants to eat you up. You sometimes ask him why he keeps you around. A ridiculous notion, as if he would even have the thought of not keeping you. You’re his woman. His, and his alone - it’s not up for debate. You just don’t know it yet, because of your lack of experience. Rough hands pinch at your nipples until you’re shoving at his shoulders and squirming away, underwear sticking to your wet pussy.

Your kicked-dog sort of expression is replaced with furrowed brows when you pant the next thing, glancing back at the door with a pout. “Aniiki~~ it’s embarrassing! Farlan nii’s gonna know.” His jaw clenches, and within a single blink he has you turned around. Pressed back into his bed under his pinning weight, his thin eyebrows furrowing despite himself. Your eyes go wide, suddenly apologetic.

He doesn’t hear you out. “It’s not. If I tell you it’s okay, then it’s okay.” The heat between your two bodies streams down, as he yanks one leg over his thigh to get in between your legs and starts drawing his long fingers along the edge of the seat of your panties. Soaked through, sticky. He brings his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean, and taste the pure, unchanged taste of you. “Stop bringing other people up. I’ve already told you that when we’re in here, you should only think about me. When you’re in my bed-”

“Levi nii is the boss. I know, I’m sorry.” You rap out quicker than he can continue, apologetically smoothing your hands over his chest. “I just… My body always feels weird when we do this.”

He holds the urge to let his face break out into a bit of a grin. How fucking cute can you be… instead he starts peeling off your panties and watch how you obediently move your legs together and up to make it easy, runs his hands up, up, up along your thighs, calves, over your feet. He licks his lips at the sight of you, can’t help it. You let him rock his hips against you, placing his hands both sides of your face, and lean in. “Give me a kiss, come on. If you give me a kiss, I won’t chain you up tomorrow.”

You used to be unable to. Too shy, too cautious, the marks left on you had taken a toll. But look at you now. Almost as if by instinct, you dutifully press your lips to his awaiting mouth, let him lean into your space and take you. It took some time, and you used to cry - but doesn’t this feel so good now. Aren’t you happy he treats you so well? You kiss him slow and deep, letting him open your lips and slip his tongue into your mouth, while his hands rub over your wet pussy.

You’re whining into it though at his touch, mumbling like a pathetic, little thing. “‘M sore, Levi nii~” You must be. Your pussy still slicks though, welcoming him, letting his fingers rub the overstimulated bud again. He wasn’t so nice this morning, or last night.

Your thick lashes flutter when you pull back with a pout, and watch him toy with your body.  

“You’re glaring like you don’t want this.” He comments. You shake your head half-heartedly. In truth, it used to be like that. You used to kick and scream before you toned down. But you got there eventually, and now - you’re soft enough to let him do however he likes. You trust him enough to fill you up to the brim and let him spill hot cum inside you, without crying. You still move your body half into, half away from his touch— like you can’t decide if you want him to keep going, so he makes the choice for you. “Open up.”

You shiver under him but move your legs open further, as his fingers trail into the wetness to your clit. “So good, baby.” Soft circles make you scrunch your face up, and harder circles make your back lift from the mattress into a perfect arch that makes his cock twitch in his boxers. Boxers that get pushed down to reveal his weeping, flushed head, and pushing it along your lips with a hiss. “You know what I like to hear, come on. Say it.”

You flush, heat blooming on your cheeks again. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you look away in mock-decency. Drives him crazy. Makes him want to ruin you. “Th- thank you for r-rescuing me. I love… -I love when you play with me like this.”

”Yeah?” He lines his cock up with your slick lips and pushes inside, ignoring the resistance as he dives into your heat. “I know you do. I know you like doing- t-this. You’re a good, little pet for me. We’re close, aren’t we. There’s no one closer to you than I am.” He bottoms out into that perfect warmth only to pull back, wet, glistening, and dive back into you. Your eyes bulge a little, and your hands find his shoulders as your head falls back.

”Ah, ah- Aniiki. I- I’m still sore. It hurts.” You yelp softly when his body connects to yours, and your tits bounce because of the impact.

“Shhh, shh, I’ll make it feel good. Just a little more.” His rhythm moving the bed along with you, as you clamp your eyes shut and wrap your arms around him to hang on. He doesn’t mean to hurt you, of course. But you just feel so good. So inviting, diving into that clenching, warm embrace as his cock slides in and out of you, and slick gushes out along it. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. So good for Levi nii, aren’t you? You’re a good little hole for me.”

“Agh, Levi nii. Aniiki!” His declarations of love fall on deaf ears, because you’re hanging on like you’re on a cliff, whining and the pressure building inside you. Even after hundreds of times, you still look so woefully underprepared whenever he rubs just right against your pussy. Coarse hair and friction all make you look like you can explode any second now, and he thrives when looking at it. Could you not look so fucking pathetic all the time? It’s not his fault that you look so fucking hot like this, squirming on his cock, moaning, begging. “I’m full— I’m so full. Agh, Levi!”

He lets you have more, take more of his cock, harder, deeper. Your poor pussy squelches every time he bottoms out, and your body moves around on the mattress just enough to rub yourself against the thumb he’s pressing to your clit. “You’re so pretty like this, so fucking— good. Tell me you want it.” 

Your back lifting from the bed, he can tell when your stomach starts clenching, and your legs wrap tighter around him. “Yes, yes, yes! Wan’it- agh, ah, ah! Levi.” His balls hit your ass every time he goes in and you feel so good, so soft— hotter than anyone should be.

“Tell me you love me. You don’t want anyone else.” You’re whining like you’re mindless, and pull him, scratch along his shoulder blades with a desperation for purchase. You can’t say it in words, but he knows it means ‘keep going, I’m close, I’m so close’. He knows it means ‘I love you.’ That’s why he pushes his mouth to yours again, that’s why he rocks his cock right into that spot that makes you go a bit cross eyed.

He’s doing this all for you. You mewl and suck his tongue and push your tits against him, let him fucking into you so deep you feel conjoined, and then even past that. It’s the heat and the pressure and the touch of you on him that’s making him grunt, his balls pull to his body. He fucks into you until he can’t possibly keep the rhythm anymore, and his shoulders pulls up into a squared position above you.

He pants, sweat rolling down his chest from the effort and the warmth. “You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.” Kissing you doesn’t possibly feel deep enough, but god, you feel good. Heavenly. He’ll stay here with you if that’s what it takes. Nothing’s going to change that. “You’re not going anywhere. Ever.” His cock settles so deep inside you he can see it on your face, twisting between pain and pleasure, and you fall into your orgasm with a rough, desperate cry. Your walls constrict around him, and it’s enough to make him reach his high too.

Sliding in and out, in and out, as hot cum shoots into you and he presses his forehead to yours. “Fuck, fuck- I need you here.”

+

It’s too dark to make out much of anything, except the frantic energy in the whispers.

“Hurry, come on.”

Your cuffs jingle loud into the night, dragging your chain behind you. It wasn’t possible on your own, but another set of hands got it undone relatively easily, and now, it’s just the sound of your breaths into the night as you look behind you. The house gets smaller before it disappears from your view, and you pant out breaths into the cold night. “Farlan,“ you breathe out, not stopping, “what’s happening?” 

Your arm is held steadily in his soft fingers, at a pace as quick as your weakened body will allow. He doesn’t speak until you’ve made it far, far beyond the line of houses that you could see from your window. More than you can remember seeing, ever. “Don’t worry, everything’s okay.”

The night is dark, but when you two finally stop moving, the path forward is even darker. A deep hole in the walls that seems to go up into infinity. You pull your arm away, and look at him, stomach turning. “Farlan…”

There’s no one around, lights are dimmed, and the whole place seems abandoned. All that’s left to notice is the air blowing past your neck, a draft that ruffles your hair. Farlan’s eyes are full of compassion. “I want to do the right thing.” For some reason, wetness wells up in your eyes as you watch him take you in wholly, and gently pull you into a hug. “If we go up here, we’ll get to the surface.”

He pushes a kiss to your temple, smiles bright like he always does. “You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.” The breeze carries the fresh air into your lungs, and your toes are cold.

Farlan’s breaths go quiet as Hell unfolds itself. Instinctively, his hand is still wrapped around the gurgling wound pulsing blood, but his limbs have gone numb. And Levi’s blind anger has him wailing punch after punch, panting heavily before pulling the knife out. His hands drip blood, as the sun rises at the end of the staircase. It’s barely a white dot in an inky canvas, but the doubt does seep in. You wouldn’t have left him. You wouldn’t, you couldn’t.

He loves you, and you him. His only light in this fucking place. You’d never go on your own. You’ll be waiting for him to get you back.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[moonstruckme]

in theory i really want to see bodyguard!james and reader where she gets hurt and he takes care of her… but i literally cannot imagine him letting her get hurt at any point. unless like they both barely escape with their lives, or maybe someone else was on her detail for the day — cutting myself off with an idea: james is set on another task for an event for whatever reason and when danger erupts somehow, he completely abandons it to come protect her even though shes supposed to have another detail, desperate to protect her

Hi! I sort of did a mix of these if that's alright, thanks for requesting!

cw: mention of blood, small head injury, past break-in/attack

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Your heart lurches when the bathroom door handle jiggles, someone using a key, but then James steps inside. 

You choke on a sob you didn’t realize had been building. He rushes to meet you as you stand from the closed toilet, arms coming tight around your waist. It’s a good thing, because your legs don’t seem ready to support you. Your knees are wobbly and insubstantial, your ribs feel sore, and you can only see out of one eye. But James is here, so that’s all alright. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He sounds teary. You know James to be an emotional creature, but he doesn’t often let them show when he’s working. Though you don’t suppose he is working, since he’d gone home from his shift not long ago. “Fuck, I’m so glad you’re in one piece.” 

“What’re you doing here?” 

“I heard what happened.” He squeezes you tight, then releases you, taking your face in his hands. “Are you okay? What happened here?” He touches near your forehead. 

You take a breath, but despite your best intentions your voice wobbles. “I’m okay.” 

James’ expression melts with understanding. Blood still flows hot over your eye, the sharp pain on your head bleeding but evidently not enough to worry the men on your detail who’d hustled you in here after the guy who’d broken in and tried to attack you was subdued. Enough to make your lungs feel tight and panicky, though. 

James strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re okay,” he agrees. 

“I just—I can’t see, James.” 

“I know, let’s see. Let me have a look.” He sits you back down on the toilet, grabbing a few things from the cabinet underneath your sink before squatting in front of you. You swear, he knows where you keep your things better than you do. James pushes your hair away from your face, gentle fingers landing at your hairline. “Oh, it’s only small.” 

“Why is it bleeding so much?” 

“Because head wounds bleed a lot, honey,” he says lightly. You recognize this tone; it’s the one he always uses when he can tell you’re spiraling, extra untroubled to counter you. It used to work better before you knew him so well. “You’ll be alright, I’m just going to clean it for you. Does it hurt much?”

“Not a lot,” you say, wincing as he passes a sterile wipe over the cut. 

James frowns. “They didn’t send someone to look at you?” 

“You look at me all the time. Not sure they need someone else to do it.” 

He snorts. “I mean like a doctor, babe.” 

You knew what he meant. “No.” You try to keep the pique out of your tone, but you suspect he hears it anyway. “They just ran me in here and told me to stay put.” 

“That is protocol,” James allows. “Maybe they’ve just not had time to send someone yet. They’ve brought the assailant into the other wing for questioning.” 

You furrow your brows, and he says quietly “hey,” thumbing at your forehead so you relax it again. 

“Assailant?” 

James hesitates. “I suppose he may not qualify as an assailant. That’s just the term we always use to describe anyone who tries to get to you.” 

Your bottom lip finds its way between your teeth. You gnaw on it pensively. “But you think he was really here to kill me?” 

“We’re your security team,” James says gently. “We have to work off the assumption that anyone attempting to get to you is trying to kill you.” He places a bandage over your cut, looking you in the eye. “But that’s not for you to worry about, okay? That’s our job.” 

You’re silent while he gets a few more sterile wipes, ripping one open. You’re not sure exactly how much blood is on you, but that he starts cleaning underneath your jaw doesn’t feel like a great sign. 

“You’re not on shift,” you say after a minute. “How did you know to come?” 

James thinks for a second. “You know our team uses a private radio channel to communicate, right?” You nod. “Well, the signal doesn’t stretch far, but I sometimes listen to it on my way home until it goes out.” He gives you a half sheepish look. “We’re not supposed to, but it makes me feel better to check up on things.” 

You laugh softly. “Can’t ever stop working, can you?” 

“Hey, just because you’re alright when I leave you doesn’t mean you will be five minutes later.” You can tell it’s meant to be a joke, but James’ tone sobers near the end of his sentence. You’re sure he’s thinking about what happened today, same as you. He says quietly, “I just like to keep up to date on you for as long as I can.” 

He starts cleaning the blood off your eye, and you shut your other one while he does. James’ hands are characteristically gentle, something that had surprised you after first meeting him. Here’s this bodyguard, all broad frame and big, intimidating muscles, and he touches you with all the loving softness of a teddy bear. 

He does one last swipe over your eye, says “there,” and kisses near your eyebrow. 

“Thanks, Jamie.” You fold forward, looping your arms around his neck. He knows what you need, big palm moving up your spine. You press your face into the meat of his shoulder. “I know I’m supposed to say that I like it when you go home and rest,” you mumble, “but I sort of wish you could stay here all of the time.” 

“Maybe we can work out a solution,” he humors you. “I could set up a cot by the end of your bed.” 

“Don't be silly.” You hug him tighter. “I’d at least blow up an air mattress for you. And you could have a whole bathroom drawer to yourself.” 

“That is a very generous offer.” You can hear the smile in James voice. Can feel the affection he’s squeezing into your sore ribs. “I’ll check with the boss and get back to you, okay?”

[emmyrosee]

 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫

THIS IS SO CUTEEEE-

Bro this is so long yaLL GET A SNACK- I never had a senior prom this is my venting PFFFFF-

I do want to make a disclaimer! To make this fic work I had to go and use an American based school system, where traditionally seniors are 18, can drive, and eat in cafeterias. For those about to comment my inaccuracies, thank you!

—-

Sukuna has been a little more than preoccupied lately.

He, who once would spend every afternoon driving you and yuuji home, who would blast your favorite music and take you to McDonald’s for a soda, has been more than busy with someone new.

You don’t know where she came from, hell you’ve known the two of them for years, yet this is the first you’ve ever really heard of the being known as Uraume.

“They’ve actually been friends for years,” yuuji had told you. “I’m surprised you never really met her- though she’s pretty shy. Only close with sukuna, honestly.”

Yeah. Real close.

Within just a few weeks, Uraume has snagged your place as Sukuna’s number one. No longer does he stand outside your class to carry your books to the next. Your front seat privileges go to her. He plays her favorite songs. He drops you off at home before taking her to god knows where to do god knows what. And yuuji is blind to this change, merely glad his best friend is sitting in the back seat with him, all the while it tears you up on the inside.

And it isn’t until you catch a beefy hand shift to hold Uraume’s that you realize it’s over. Your heart shatters, your lip wobbles, and you turn your body to face away from the disgusting sight.

“You okay?” Yuuji asks, gently nudging you with the tips of his fingers, and when you look up to peek at Sukuna’s frame once again, you catch his eyes looking at you in the rear view. You sigh and turn your gaze away.

“What’s wrong, brat?” He asks, and you could throw up when Uraume turns in her seat to look at you too.

She looks genuinely concerned, and you could punch her for it.

“Just… take me home, Sukuna,” you murmur.

“But we’re getting pizza!” Yuuji whines. “I don’t want you to miss out!”

You smile and gently pat his leg, “don’t worry about me, yuuji. I’m just getting car sick.”

Car sick enough you don’t car pool with him anymore.

You’re back to taking the bus, curled on your seat to stay out of other people’s way, leaving home about 45 minutes earlier than you would’ve with Sukuna. It makes you skip breakfast and washing your face, barely giving you enough time to get into clean clothes and head off onto the day.

But it’s better than seeing them interact, a crush and potential romance brewing right in your eyesight. You never told him how you were getting to school, either, not in the mood for his attempts to change your mind or force you otherwise.

Until-

“You’ve been taking the fucking bus?”

There’s a loud bark that rings through the halls of school, people moving out of the way for the one and only sukuna to come barreling down it, some looking in worry, others with their eyes rolling in their skull.

You sigh and close your locker, leaning against it, “did yuuji finally tell you?”

“No, and I’m going to beat the shit out of him for not telling me,” he snarls, leaning in close. “Do you know how fucking dangerous the bus can be?”

You roll your eyes, “people take the bus every day, Sukuna.”

“Yeah. Not you. Not anymore. I drive you. You know that.”

“Not anymore,” you grumble. He cocks a brow in challenge and you roll your eyes, “I have no interest in being in a car with you.”

“Who fucking shit in your oatmeal this morning?” He snaps. “You’ve had a punk ass attitude for the past two weeks, what the fuck happened?”

“Maybe im just not into being babied anymore?” You lie. He furrows his brows and licks his lips as the bell rings.

“This isn’t over. We’re not done.”

“I am!” You sing.

You’ve never had a day at school drag like today has.

Classes have never felt longer, teachers have never talked slower, and the clock has never ticked drowsier. It physically causes your head to pound and your stomach to become nauseous, and agony courses though your veins as the lunch bell rings.

It’s only lunch.

You manage to shuffle your way out to the cafeteria to meet your friends, two who cheer happily at your arrival and one who offers you a nod of acknowledgment. You plop down next to Fushiguro and rub your temples.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuji asks, and you flash him a small smile.

“I just don’t feel well.”

“You haven’t felt well in days,” he points out, “I hope you’ll be alright for tomorrow night!”

Tomorrow night.

Prom is tomorrow night.

You scrub your face with your hands, “I’ll feel better once I eat, yuuji. Don’t worry,” you say quietly.

The drumming of Nobara’s nails on the table don’t help the growing migraine in your skull, and you try your best to drown out the noise of so many people and so many thoughts and so many feelings about your argument with sukuna that you feel like you could throw up straight on this table.

Kugisaki grimaces, “I told your brother to be here today to talk about prom,” she says, poking her juice open with a straw. “He’s late.”

“He’s not late,” yuuji says, pointing a finger at a table just a few down. “He’s over there, with Uraume.”

The minute every vowel passes Yuuji’s lips, a shiver trails down your spine, filling your entire being with heaviness and hatred. You don’t dare look over your shoulder, instead you grab a grape from Fushiguro’s lunch to munch on. He nudges the small container closer, and you take another green grape from him.

“Besides,” Yuuji continues, taking a bite of his lunch, “I’m 98% sure Sukuna’s going with her. Something about her friend group and car pooling, I figured we could catch a ride with someone else.”

Your heart stops completely.

The man you’d assumed you were going with, the man you’d been in love with for years, is taking someone else, the day before prom.

“He WHAT!” Kugisaki snaps, and next to you, Fushiguro laces his pinky finger with yours, squeezing softly to keep you grounded. “Oh! The fucking nerve! I knew he was a piece of shit, but THIS?! Oh, Itadori, why couldn’t you have your license!”

“Hey! Why don’t you!”

“Kugisaki,” Fushiguro says softly. “Him being a scumbag is nothing new. But,” you feel blue eyes focus on the side of your head. “Let’s be a little more gentle about this, okay?”

From behind you, there’s a set of laughter that eases its way over the cafeteria, and you wish it was literally anyone else’s, anyone’s other than Uraume’s, and you hate how light and airy it sounds.

How pretty.

“I know for a fact Sukuna’s not that funny,” Kugisaki grumbles, but all you do is pick at your food and silently pretend to agree with your friend.

Sukuna is funny. Sukuna is so funny it hurts, it brings tears to your eyes and your sides and stomach to hurt, and even though you share him everyday, it hurts now to share him with her.

“Man, she’s laughing real hard,” Yuuji says, taking a sip of his water, his head turned to watch his brother interact with his friend. “Wonder what he said.”

“Yuuji,” Megumi warns.

Yuuji chuckles to himself, “it’s almost like they’re feeding off of each other, it’s kinda sweet.”

“Yuuji.”

“-and I mean, Sukuna’s usually not so open and friendly, let alone cracking jokes. It’s cute-“

“ITADORI!”

Megumi snaps hard enough at his friend to make him shut up, and when yuuji finally turns back to face you, your bottom lip wobbles and you play more with your food. Tears pour down your face, as Kugisaki reaches over to rest a hand on yours, sympathy in her gaze. “Yeah,” you sniffle. “It’s cute.” The hand not being cradled by Kugisaki comes up to wipe your tears, and before you know it, your legs stand up and carry you straight to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall where you’re able to finally let it go. You cradle yourself in comfort, eyes screwed shut as you sob every fiber of your soul out.

Kugisaki calls your name once, twice, then she sighs, “come on. Let’s talk this out, okay?”

“I’m not going to prom,” you confess. “Not if he’s going with her.”

“You don’t know if he is, though,” she argues, leaning against your stall door. “And if he is, and he fumbles the best thing that ever happened to him, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

There’s another person that enters the bathroom, and you hear Kugisaki scoff. “You’re like, a thousand percent not supposed to be in here.”

“Bite me,” the voice snaps, and it doesn’t take long to decode it as Sukuna’s. Your hand claps over your mouth to silence your tears, not wanting him to hear you. “I thought she was crying, I wanted to check on her.”

“She’s fine. Shoo.”

“Kugisaki-“

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” she snaps, and you close your swollen eyes as she defends your honor. “Because we’re not. Don’t act like you care at all about me or her, or her peace or her business. So fucking beat it, before I snitch you out to the principal, then no one’s fucking happy.”

You hear sukuna exhale in annoyance, “just… text me, okay?” He says, and you know he’s talking to you.

“She’ll think about it,” Kugisaki growls. Once the big footprints are out of earshot, you slowly ease your way out of the stall and straight into Kugisaki’s arms, “I know honey, I know,” she soothes, hugging you tight. “You deserve so much better, babydoll. Fuck him.”

“He led me on for months,” you wail. “And he tossed me to the side like a fucking piece of trash. For her.”

“And that’s why you should go to prom,” she argues, pulling back to look at you, eyes soft in understanding. “You don’t need him to have fun- you’ve got friends who are dying to go with you. And you want to make him real jealous?” She asks, and you quirk your brow in intrigue.

She smirks, “go with Fushiguro.”

You sniffle and shake your head, “I cant do that to Fushiguro. Im not going to use him as a pawn to make Sukuna want me again. It’s not fair.”

Kugisaki nods and clicks her tongue, “why don’t you get a note from the nurse and go home for the day?” She encourages, and you ponder the idea in your head.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea… to go home and process the day, figure out what to do about prom, maybe even return the dress for your money back. You sigh shakily and nod your head before the bathroom door bursts open again, emerging a yuuji whose hands are clasped over his eyes. “Just wanted to bring you your backpack!”

You snort and wipe your nose, “thank you, Yuuji.”

“You’re welcome!” He shifts his fingers to peek at you, lifting the middle one to make eye contact, “so… sorry we didn’t get to talk about prom.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, ushering them both out of the bathroom. “I’m… I’m probably not going anyways.”

“WHAT!” He whines, his hands coming down to his sides in a saddened pout. “But! It’s senior prom! We have to go!”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t felt up for it since we made the plan to go. Maybe I’m just not supposed to.” When Fushiguro appears from the men’s bathroom and approaches the group, you flash him a sweet smile, “but I want you guys to still go!”

“Well if you’re not going, I’m not going!” Yuuji proclaims.

Fushiguro shakes his head, “if this is about prom, I won’t go either. We can chill at our houses instead-“

“EVERYONE IS GOING TO PROM!” Kugisaki barks, causing more than a few heads to turn in the hall. Then, she sighs, “we’re all old now. This is it. Our last chance of good memories from this shit fuck of a school. Everyone is going. Period.”

“But-“

“We’ll talk it out later,” you say quickly, noticing the duo of Sukuna and Uraume heading to the vending machines together. “I’m going home. Someone take notes for me.”

“Will do,” Fushiguro calls out for you. You feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of your skull, but you couldn’t care less.

Not when you’re left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

Getting out of school was easy enough. Working up an excuse that you’re dizzy and need to be rushed home. It’s getting home that sucked.

Before, Sukuna was your ride home when you were sick, cutting classes to get you back to your home so you could take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Now, you stand at a public bus stop, earbuds in your ears, and you wait. You’ve done this route plenty of times by now, courtesy of Sukuna’s front seat being taken by her.

The ride is quiet enough, your head resting against the cool glass of the window as your phone buzzes violently.

sukuna 💪🏻 Where the fuck did you go?

No seriously wtf

This shit with Fushiguro taking notes for you? The fucks up with that?

Why’d you even leave?

You think you can ignore me?

This isn’t over. Once this bell rings?

I’m hunting you down.

You ignore his threats and let the bus carry you home, your exhausted legs finishing the trip up and into the familiar confines of your house. You’ve got at least two hours before sukuna makes good on his word, and you decide to take that time to take care of yourself- something your heart has been too tired to do since Uraume came into your life uninvited.

After a hot shower, some skin care and topped with some pretty perfume, you make your way to the living room, stopping briefly for a snack from the kitchen.

You put on a movie, but your phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s Sukuna, it’s always going to be Sukuna, and you merely turn it on Do Not Disturb.

If ignoring his texts wouldn’t get him pissed, that certainly would.

But you don’t care. Not anymore.

There’s a ferocious knocking on the door that snaps you out of your zone, and it doesn’t take you long to render the intense energy as Sukuna’s. You pause your movie and shrug your blanket off, making your way to the front door.

Your hands tingle and your heart pounds at the idea of confrontation, but you figure you have nothing to lose as you open the door, revealing an annoyed Sukuna, foot tapping impatiently.

“You think you can hide from me?” he snaps, and you roll your eyes and try to close the door. Sukuna merely jams his foot in the frame to stop you. “Stop fucking around with me, and talk to me. And what’s this bullshit of Yuuji telling me you’re not going to prom?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you say blankly, but all that does is aggravate him more, and he uses a big hand to force the door open more. The act would be attractive to you, had your heart not been torn into pieces by him. “Don’t break my door.”

“Don’t ignore my goddamned texts!” He barks. You scoff and step back inside your house, where he swiftly follows you. “You’re acting like a fucking child.”

“IM ACTING LIKE A CHILD?” You screech, loud enough where even Sukuna’s eyes widen. “Me? After this entire week where you’ve picked your new best friend to cling to, IM THE CHILD?”

“Yes!” He snaps. “What, I can’t have other friends?”

“You seemed pretty content with the one,” you chuckle. “Certainly didn’t need me to keep you entertained.”

“It’s not my fault that Uraume’s been hanging out with me more,” he says, crossing his big arms. “You just can’t handle sharing me once in a while? Are you that insecure?”

This, has you wincing back, his words making you nauseous and tears bite at your waterline, stinging painfully as you finally blink a line down. He takes a deep inhale and cards a massive hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean that-“

“Fuck. You.”

“Look-“

“No, you look, Sukuna,” you growl, hands coming up to shove him hard. “You don’t get to gaslight me into thinking I’m being dramatic, after you’ve completely thrown me to the side and neglected me for the week. You don’t get to make me feel like the bad guy after you led me on for months on end, only to chase after another girl. You don’t get to break my heart, and demand me to piece it back together, only to try and guilt me for protecting my peace! FUCK! YOU!”

“Led you on for what?” He asks, confusion replacing annoyance, but aggregation still in his tone. “The fuck are you spewing?” You reach up to shove him again; this time, he grips your shoulders to make you steady, “are you out of your fucking mind? There is no other girl!”

“Oh, yeah,” you scoff, your voice tight with tears. “You just hold every broad’s hand in front of me. You just rest your hand onto every girl’s thigh, clearly. My bad, Sukuna.”

“I never held her hand, I moved her hand from my thigh, you weren’t fucking paying attention!”

“Yeah? What about not walking me to class anymore? Not carrying my books for me? Not sitting next to me anymore, instead going to be with her?”

His brows furrow, and there’s nothing you’d like more than to smack the expression clean off of his face. “Doll, Uraume is a friend. That’s it!”

“Yeah? Then what does that make us?”

“Everything!” He yells, the plates rattling and doors creaking from the force. The tears in your eyes still as you stare up at him, whimpering and shaking in his grip.

“What…?”

He sighs in exhaustion, “are you so dense you don’t notice just how obsessed with you I am? The minute someone else comes into my life, you’re blind to that?”

“Sukuna-“

“I’ve fought Fushiguro over you,” he continues. “I’ve argued with teachers for being late to walk you to your class. I’ve gotten pulled over speeding to your house to be with you. I’ve fucking been here, wanting you, but I was waiting for you to be ready.”

“Well, you’ve sure had a hell of a time proving it,” you snip, and he grits his teeth to ground himself. “Talking to another girl, taking her to prom-“

“I’m not taking her to prom, I’m taking you!”

“Then why have you been ignoring me!”

Your words are silenced as he grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss, the broken bits of your soul and heart snapping back together. Your brain stops and your stomach swirls, but your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, keeping him close. He tastes like orange soda and feels comforting like a freshly washed blanket, his band tee getting fisted in your hand as your other one plays with the hair of his buzz cut. He shivers, his arms hug around your waist, panting into your mouth before hesitantly pulling back.

He leans down to your ear, “listen carefully. I’m not taking Uraume. I’m taking you. Uraume is a friend. That’s it. Once I tell her we’re together, she’ll back off, and we’re going to be fine. I’ve been ‘ignoring you’ because I figured you wanted space, but I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Got it?” You sniffle and burrow your face in his chest, letting his big arms wrap around you and keep you safe. He presses another kiss to the crown of your head, and you feel your mind go fuzzy at the moment he cradles you close.

“Missed my annoying brat of a crush. Driving to school was so fucking boring,” he says, and you scoff against him and wipe your nose on his shirt. “Ugh. Ew.”

“You’re supposed to find me pretty no matter what,” you sniffle. “Even if I use you as a tissue.”

“Maybe, just don’t use me as a tissue?” He snickers, and when you loosen and laugh yourself, he gently pulls back to look at you.

“C’mon. Show me your dress. Need to know what color tie I’m getting.”

“You want to match with me?” You whimper.

He smirks, “Kugisaki already hates me. You think she’s going to let us not matching slide?”

“You’re so right.”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

father’s and mother’s day | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“happy father’s day!” annabeth came rushing into your bedroom causing you and spencer to flinch from the loud noise. you felt her scramble into the bed on spencer side, turning your head you saw how she cling to him.

spencer groaned, “thank you my love bug. you’re just as special since you granted me that title. i’d still be doctor spencer reid if you did come along.” he planted loving kisses along her chubby face. her high pitched giggles filled your heart.

“and what a shame that title would be,” you joked as you eyes the two. you looked down at your soon to be popped belly, “say hi to daddy.”

there was a kick and you quickly grab from spencer’s hand so he could feel the twins morning cheer. “hi charlotte and matthew, a great father’s day surprise was finding out there was two of you in there. mommy’s kinda glad we were able to get two kids in one, less work to be done.”

“but more pain for me,” poking a finger into his shoulder teasingly. spencer kissed at you stretched stomach, talking to both of them for a minute as your fingers carded through his hair and annabeth placed a hand beside his larger one to feel the kicks.

“does it hurt?” she asked you, her eyes wide and the same as spencer’s.

“a bit. they have to squeeze between my own organs, that’s why i need to pee a lot. my bladder is a victim to growing babes.” your free hand caressed at your daughters cheek, “you were such a good girl. you only kicked a few times then stopped, and sometimes you kicked when either of us talked directly to you. that’s why you know us so well already, we’ve been talking long before you came to earth.”

spencer moved to sit beside you, he planted a morning kiss upon your cheek. “did you know ties are the most common gift on father’s day? especially the best dad ones.”

“we got you one!” annabeth announced. spencer appeared shocked, “really! do i deserve the title of best dad though?”

annabeth stood to her feet, her legs wobbling with the mattress as she carried herself to spencer and threw her arms around his shoulders. “yes! yes! bestest dad in the universe!”

“the bravest and sweetest dad alive,” you added along.

-

a/n: i just threw this together in thirty minutes after waking up. happy father’s day.

[fashionteahouse]

i know deeeppppp dowwwnnnnn in my soul that paul is sooooo good at eating 🐱 like that boy eating like his life depends on it

i want a fic (make it long pls ) like this and i'll visit you in your dream to kiss you 💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳💳

your soul is soo right 🤭 hope you enjoy :)

pretty - paul x reader

Cheeks were scorching hot like a hot plate. Pulling back with a sensual smack, not wanting to detach from each other’s lips, you look at Paul’s lustful face.

Two sets of warm hands press down gently on your shoulders, making you move backwards. With your back on his couch, you watch as he moves down and places his lips on the front of your underwear.

“That tickles.” you whisper out, sporting a small grin.

“Just relax.” he whispers back to you, rubbing his hands up your stomach, making your hips naturally relax before his face.

Your thinly cloth covered mound was hot and wet from Paul’s mouth. Eating at you before yanking the underwear down. He just couldn’t wait to open his present. Clutching on the sides of your panties, he pulls them down swiftly.

The blow of his breath as he stares down in awe, makes you squirm a bit. You watch him watch you as he wets his lips as if he was a starving man staring at a hearty meal.

Moving his face forward, he takes one long swipe of you with his tongue as you softly gasp and close your eyes at the sensation. You were unsure at first, if you wanted him to, but you were glad he talked you into trying this. He almost jumped for joy on the spot when he found out from you that he was the first person to do this to you.

Staring up, you pant as he swiped his tongue deep on your swollen nub, making you rock your hips to his tongue. Clutching onto handfuls of his hair, he lays his cheek down to tongue more of your moist skin.

Trembling, your legs wobble and he places two hands on the side of your hips, licking long licks as your hips follow him. Legs clenched strongly around his head, it didn’t hurt him at all. If anything, it was his motivation to keep going. You held onto his hair for dear life, keeping him close but being mind blown at the stimulated feeling that he was able to produce out of you. Gripping a bit to keep you from moving away or from moving back, he continues his rhythm with his tongue as your body arched and your hips grounded against his face.

After coming, he pulls back and you thought he was done. Only for him to wide the inside of your legs from being clenched and sloppily lap your natural juices.

Your head goes from side to side as you felt like you couldn’t breathe, you breathed out a swallow of air that you gulped, only for it to come out as a lengthy and breathy moan. Paul took his opportunity to let your legs open further, letting your glistening and swollen flesh meet his talented tongue over and over again. The noises alone made your hand to try to clutch to the parts of the couch.

Who needed drugs when the ecstasy was poured right on his tongue? Circling his tongue on the pearl that was between your legs and closing his lips around it, you convulsed a bit and pushed his head away, you needed to breathe and you felt like he was sucking the life out of you. As much as it felt good, you had to tap out.

He does nothing but brings out a deep chuckle as he lets you taste yourself on his moist lips. Even though you couldn’t breathe, you brought him to your mouth whenever you took a couple of breaths.

You watch him as he kneels to his knees in front of the sitting part of the couch. He takes your legs, to open yourself back up in front of him but you quickly retract your legs and sit up.

“I can’t. You’re too hot.” you pant out, grabbing your underwear as he wipes his mouth with his hand, muffling his chuckle.

It was as if you unlocked something in Paul. Since that night, his hands were hard to keep off of you.

Getting dressed to hang out with an old buddy of yours, Leah Clearwater, his hand travels up the skirt that you’re wearing as he leans his lips to your ear.

“You’re so pretty.” he sensually whispers in your ear, trailing his hand to the front of your body. Blushing and feeling like your stomach was doing a million jumping jacks, you had to stay strong. Peeling yourself from his grasp, you turn to him face to face.

“I have to go soon.” you tell him.

“I’ll be quick.” he says, his eyes almost in desperation, “I promise.” he finishes, never taking the palm of his hands off of your body. You stand there as you watch him watch you as he lowers himself and yank your underwear down.

He gives the heart between your legs a kiss, you jerk a bit from the spot he chose, your hands snaked in his hair.

With your lower body hanging halfway off the bed, Paul makes sure that your legs are nice and snug around, resting on his back.

He was a god that night. You kept chanting, “Oh god” to him. Clutching onto him, he didn’t let up. You lost count of how many cases of shakes he made you have. His pink tongue found its home between your wet folds and lathered up the lubricant that you were producing.

Slurping you up like soup, his deep moans went very great together with your high ones. Looking to the side, your phone lights up and vibrates.

“Paul.” you pant out to get his attention. By the way it sounded, it sounded like you were egging him on.

Deep slow licks started to take place as both legs clenched around his head and shook.

“Paul.” you say again but your hips invulnerability wave up as he moisturized your pearl with the wetness of his tongue.

“Jesus I’ve been out here for like 20 minutes.” Leah says as a catchy song comes onto the radio.

“Sorry.” you mutter as you click your seatbelt in after flipping in the passenger seat.

“Did you run a marathon or something before getting in?”

“No.” you say as color forms on your cheeks.

Fanning your hand, you squint your eyes a bit as the sun beats down its heat onto your body.

“It’s so hot.” you say to no one in particular.

But the only person who was driving was Paul. It was just the two of you after all.

Agreeing with you, he detours takes you to an ice cream parlor. After getting the two cones of different flavors, both sets of pink tongues scoop up the cold cream.

You gush how good it is while Paul keeps an eye on you. Looking back, something about the look on his face is familiar. But you can’t quiet put your finger on it.

You watch as his tongue poked through his lips, licking the ice cream, reminding you of the time you had fun with his tongue. His eyes turn mischievous, flicking his tongue a bit as he licks the ice cream for effect. He then grins and chuckle. You realize you were in a trance. He points to something.

Melted ice cream dripped down the side of your arm, you didn’t know how long you watched him. Snapping out of the trance he had you in, you accept the napkin that he gives to you. Wiping off the mess, he speaks.

“Hey.” he says.

You look up.

“We don’t have to meet them at the beach today.” he says, the pack wanted to go swimming together on this hot day.

“We don’t?” you question, bawling up the messy napkin that you were finished using.

“You weren’t feeling good…right?” he asks. He stared at you, patiently as you caught his drift. A slow but shy smile spread across your face and you look down with a blush and say with a soft but certain voice, “Right.”

[tinyluvs]

I’m so happy your on my dash again!!! I was wondering if u could do something like post-prison Spencer where him and the reader do “it” for the first time after he gets out, and instead of it being rough they r both completely blissed out by being so close to each other again! And it’s super gentle, slow, and just like love-drunk.

ah glad to have you back angel! i would love to! enjoy! *mdni!!* this ended up being much longer than i anticipated!! ♡

spencer showers the minute he gets home from prison and naturally, he takes twice as long as he normally does. you sit on the edge of the bed waiting for him, watching steam billow out from the open door

normally he wouldn't leave the door open but the thought of having something separating you from him, for even a few more minutes was too much

you watch as he dries off, just happy to have him home. he wanders back into the bedroom, smiling softly at you when you hold out his pyjama bottoms, folded neatly in your hand, "here," you whisper

"thanks honey," he mumbles, rubbing a towel over his hair so it's mostly dry. you look away when he gets changed, only hearing his towel fall to the floor with a soft thump, "hey,"

spencer crouches down in front of you, his hands smoothing over your thighs as your eyes flicker over his face. he looks tired though his eyes are soft, "i've missed you," your voice wobbles as you speak, tears flooding your eyes against your will

you hold his face in your hands, a gentle reminder that he's really there, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks, "no tears," he mumbles, sounding like he could cry too

in your best attempt to stop crying you kiss him, softly and slowly, letting him sigh contently against your lips. his hands slide up your legs, settling on your waist as he leans into you, pushing your body back until your laying underneath him

he pauses to breathe, eyes searching yours wildly while he hovers over you. his hips roll against yours, a soft gasp passes your lips as a whimper tumbles from his, "just," he pauses, his eyes shutting slowly, "need you," his forehead presses against yours

"i'm here," you whimper quietly, feeling his cock pressing against you, hard and tenting in his trousers. he hums against your jaw before pulling your bottom lip between his while his hand drops down between your bodies

your back arches immediately when he touches you through your trousers and panties, soft circles being rubbed over your clothed clit. "sit up," his voice is muffled by your lips on his but you get the gist, holding your body up just enough for him to get his hands up underneath your shirt

the loss of touch on your pussy makes you whine and paired with the cold air brushing over your nipples, you become desperate. he leaves a sloppy trail of open mouthed kisses down your neck, groaning gently to himself when he gets to your tit

his hair tickles against your chest and your fingers slide up his neck, tugging on the hairs at the base, "spence," you plead, his mouth on your nipple and his fingers against your clit becoming more teasing than anything else

"i know," he breathes hard and kisses your collarbone before he stands up, towering over you. his fingers slip underneath the waist of your trousers, gripping and tugging to pull both your trousers and panties down your legs, discarding them on the floor as you sit up

spencer steps between your legs, knowing what you're going to do before you can ask, he hasn't got time that now. he hisses when you get your hands on him, wrapping softly around him as he pushes his pyjama's down so he can step out of them

the tip of his cock weeps in your hand, precome leaking over the pad of your thumb, "fuck, angel," spencer groans through gritted teeth, his fingers tangling into your hair as his head tilts back

you lean forwards, pressing soft open mouthed kisses from the base of his cock to the tip, barely sliding your lips around the head before he's pushing you away, "don’t, i'll come,"

he's always been sensitive but after months of not being able to touch you, to have you, it's increased tenfold. you flop back down onto the bed, watching him carefully as he leans over you, his hand between your bodies once more

slowly he drags his fingers through your folds, spreading the wetness from your entrance to your clit, smiling softly to himself when your fingers wrap loosely around his wrist

"c'mere," you whimper softly, pulling his hand away from you so he crowds your space. your nails dig into his shoulder while your other hand guides his cock to where you need him, "please, please ple-,"

spencer thrusts forwards, filling you in one swift movement. he grunts deeply against your neck, listening to you moaning, your head tilted back against the mattress

after a moment, he starts to move, pulling his cock out until it's just the tip resting against your hole and then he's pushing straight back in, splitting you open

your nails dig into the back of his neck, holding his head against you, his breath and lips ghosting over your skin. your other hand trails over his shoulder blade, scratching lightly until you're pulling whimpers from your boyfriend

"i'm not going to last honey," spencer groans, his chest rumbling against yours and his hips bumping against the back of your thighs, creating a gentle slap every time

"i know," you reply softly, moving your hand from his back and down to your clit. wet, sticky sounds fill the room from your fingers and where spencer is fucking into you like it's the last thing he will ever do

he grunts and groans against your jaw, his mouth open, matching yours where a steady stream of whimpers tumble from between your lips. he adjusts his hips, thrusting into you from a slightly new angle, the tip of his cock pressing impossibly deep into you

"oh fuck," you whine, arching away from the mattress. your tits bounce slightly, nipples catching against his chest. spencer huffs, cheeks puffing out as he licks over your nipple

his free hand slides into yours, fingers tangling together by the side of your head, squeezing each other gently as his cock starts to twitch, the veins on his cock rubbing against your walls

"i'm so close," you cry, fingers frantically rubbing over your soaked pussy. tears slip down your cheeks, the feeling of spencer everywhere, over you, against you, inside you being far too much for you to handle

"can feel it," spencer groans, throwing his head back when you clench around him, trapping him there, "so good for me angel, i've missed you so much," he rambles, repeatedly pushing the tip of his cock against a spot only he can reach

his pelvis pushes your fingers against your clit in time with his thrusts, causing your brain to switch off, reducing you to a crying, whimpering mess underneath him, completely blissed out

"god," spencer whimpers, a sound you'll never get sick of hearing, "angel, i can't ho-, fuck, i'm going to come," he whines, high pitched and panting hard

you turn towards your hands, still clasped together at your side. you kiss at the vein on his forearm, dragging your lips up his arm as your orgasm takes over, your entire body shaking

spencer comes at the same time you do, cock jerking inside of you as you tighten around him. both of you moan and pant loudly, your body shivering slightly when come floods your cunt, thick and warm, filling you up more after every wave

"oh my god," you sigh gently, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into you, his weight fully pressing you into the mattress, "i love you," you mumble, peppering kisses over his temple

“love you more,” spencer hums, scooping your body up carefully, making sure he stays inside of you. he manoeuvres you around so he’s laying against the bed and you’re on top of him

“never leave me again,” you whisper, your head lolling into the crook of his neck as his fingers trail up the dip in your spine softly, “please,”

“never, i promise”

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

a/n i proofread this but if you see a mistake, holla at me

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C3)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (5.9K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────── 03: Making a Splash in the Pool of Love…Yikes

There were two types of people at the pool: those who gracefully slipped into the water like elegant swans, and those who cannonballed in with all the subtlety of a collapsing deck chair. I, unfortunately, was in a third category entirely—one reserved for the terminally awkward, perpetually flustered, and inexplicably magnetized to the deep end of mortification.

Oscar’s sisters were already in the water, splashing each other like some synchronized squad of professional pool gremlins. Mae was attempting what looked like a half-hearted handstand, her legs wobbling in the air before she toppled over, sending a spray of water in every direction. Edie was lounging on a float, sunglasses perched on her nose, lazily steering herself with one foot as if she were on a private yacht instead of a neon pink flamingo. Hattie, meanwhile, was narrating the entire scene like a sports commentator, complete with dramatic sound effects and questionable Australian accents.

And then there was Oscar, sitting poolside with all the ease of someone who belonged there, flashing that same infuriatingly smug grin every time he caught my eye. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a surf magazine—lean muscles, tousled hair, and the kind of relaxed confidence that made you both admire and want to dunk him underwater simultaneously.

Simply put, that sight, holy hell; absolutely delectable.

I was perched on the edge, feet dangling in the cool water, trying to summon the courage to just jump in and get it over with. But of course, that was when Oscar decided it was the perfect time to make things ten times worse.

“C’mon, what are you waiting for?” he called, tipping his sunglasses down just enough to look at me over the rim. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little water.”

I shot him a glare, but my attempt at intimidation was ruined by the fact that I was gripping the edge of the pool like it was my only lifeline. “I’m not scared,” I retorted, though my voice wavered. “I’m just… enjoying the view.” Which, unfortunately, sounded way more flirtatious than I intended.

Great. Just great.

Oscar’s grin widened, and he pushed himself up, sauntering over with a casualness that made my pulse race. “The view, huh? Glad I’m providing some entertainment,” he teased, crouching down beside me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I’ve gotta say, you’re missing out. Water’s perfect.”

And before I could protest, he stood up, gave me a cheeky wink, and cannonballed into the pool, sending a wave of water crashing over my legs and half-soaking my cover-up. I let out a yelp, half in surprise and half in pure exasperation as Oscar surfaced, slicking his hair back and laughing like he’d just pulled off the prank of the century.

“Welcome to the splash zone!” Mae cheered, throwing up her arms in mock celebration as Oscar floated by, still grinning like he’d won some imaginary competition.

I wiped the water from my face, feeling my resolve finally crack. It was either jump in or spend the rest of the afternoon as Oscar’s personal splash target, and I was too stubborn to give him that satisfaction. With one last deep breath, I stood up, tossed my cover-up to the side, and took the plunge, diving in with more determination than grace.

As I broke the surface, sputtering but exhilarated, Oscar swam up beside me, his smile impossibly bright. “There you go,” he said, flicking water at me playfully. “Now you’re officially one of us.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “One of the loonies, you mean.”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling with something that looked a lot like admiration. “Exactly. Welcome to the club.”

Before I could catch my breath, Oscar splashed me again, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Alright, now that you’re here, we’re playing a game of chicken. Me and you against Edie and Hattie. They’ve been running their mouths all day about how they’re undefeated.”

I blinked, caught completely off-guard by the suggestion. “Wait, chicken? You mean the one where you sit on someone’s shoulders and try to knock the other team down?”

Oscar nodded, his grin wide and challenging. “That’s the one. And don’t worry, I’m a solid base. You just have to keep Edie and Hattie from cheating, which is honestly the real challenge.”

I hesitated, glancing over at Edie and Hattie, who were already gearing up and flexing like they were entering an Olympic event. Edie perched confidently on Hattie’s shoulders, waving like a gladiator preparing for battle. The thought of sitting on Oscar’s shoulders, with everyone watching—and worse, his hands around my legs—made me momentarily freeze. Not to mention, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to be manhandled by a guy I’d only known for three hours, no matter how distractingly good-looking he was.

“Nah, I think I’ll just watch,” I said, trying to sound casual, even though my heart was thumping at the mere idea of the closeness. “I’m not really… a chicken kind of girl.”

Oscar wasn’t having it. He swam closer, his expression teasing but with a hint of something else, a playful determination that made it clear he wasn’t going to let me off that easily. “C’mon, don’t be a chicken about playing chicken,” he coaxed, his tone dripping with challenge. “It’ll be fun. Plus, I promise I won’t drop you. I’ve got a good grip.”

I shot him a skeptical look, my cheeks heating up again. “And why exactly should I trust you?”

Oscar’s smirk widened as he shifted his stance, flexing his biceps with dramatic flair, his movements comically slow and deliberate. He struck a pose like a cheesy fitness model from a 90s infomercial, his muscles bulging as he exaggerated each flex with a ridiculous amount of confidence. The water glistened on his tanned skin, catching the sunlight in a way that would’ve been impressive if it wasn’t so over the top. He raised one arm and gave it a solid flex, his bicep swelling noticeably, and with a playful wink, he leaned in and kissed it like it was the crowning achievement of his life.

“Because these guns,” he declared, pausing to flex the other arm for good measure, “are the most reliable thing you’ll ever sit on.” He threw in a cocky wink that would’ve made any movie villain proud, followed by an exaggerated smooch to his own bicep that echoed like a cartoon sound effect.

Mae burst out laughing, nearly choking on her drink. “Oh my god, Oscar, you absolute dork. Stop embarrassing yourself!”

Edie rolled her eyes so hard I was worried they’d get stuck. “Seriously, bro, you’re one cheesy line away from handing out autographed photos.”

Oscar ignored them, continuing to pose as if he were standing in front of a crowd of adoring fans. He shifted his weight, flexing his triceps now, turning slightly to show off the muscles rippling along his back, all while maintaining that smirk that screamed, I know I look good, and I’m not sorry about it.

I couldn’t help but laugh, torn between genuine amusement and secondhand embarrassment. He was so shameless, so ridiculously over-the-top, that I almost didn’t notice the way his muscles moved with effortless strength beneath the surface. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I could feel my cheeks heating up despite myself. The confidence, the sheer audacity of it all, was so uniquely Oscar, and I couldn’t deny the flutter of nerves—or something else—that danced in my stomach.

I snorted, half-laughing, half-cringing at his display. “Oh my god, that was the worst line I’ve ever heard. Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “And besides, you get to help me take those two down a notch. It’s a win-win.”

I looked at Edie and Hattie, who were already smirking at us from across the pool, and I felt a sudden surge of competitiveness rise up. Fine. If Oscar wanted a partner, I’d give him one—and maybe wipe that smug look off his sisters’ faces while I was at it.

“Alright, fine,” I relented, rolling my eyes but unable to suppress a grin. “But if you drop me, I’m holding it against you forever.”

Oscar’s smile was blinding. “Deal.” He turned around and crouched slightly, patting his broad shoulders. “Hop on. I’ll keep you steady.”

I climbed onto his back, trying not to think too hard about how solid he felt under my hands, or the way his muscles flexed as he gripped my legs to steady me. I could feel every inch of his strength, and it was both comforting and ridiculously distracting. The water sloshed around us as he rose, effortlessly lifting me onto his shoulders. My heart pounded, but I tried to focus on the game instead of the feel of his strong, tanned skin under my hands.

“Hold on tight,” Oscar said, his voice light but filled with excitement. “We’re going to take them down.”

As we squared off against Edie and Hattie, the pool’s surface rippled around us, creating a vibrant, sun-dappled stage for our impending battle. I could feel every subtle shift of Oscar’s body beneath me, his muscles tensing and flexing as he adjusted his stance, effortlessly finding the right balance to keep us steady. Each small movement sent little jolts of energy through me, and I couldn’t ignore the sheer strength radiating from him, his back firm and his shoulders broad under my grip. He gave his shoulders a little roll, almost like a warm-up, making sure I felt every deliberate flex, each slight adjustment meant to show off his easy power.

“Comfortable up there?” he asked, his voice laced with that familiar teasing edge. He tilted his head back just enough so I could see the playful spark in his eyes, his cheeky grin widening as he caught my expression. He looked absurdly pleased with himself, like this was all part of some grand performance and I was his main audience.

“Oh yeah, super comfy,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm, but I couldn’t suppress the grin tugging at my lips. It was impossible not to smile; his energy was contagious, and the way he kept subtly flexing as if daring me to notice was half infuriating, half amusing. I squeezed my thighs around his neck for stability, feeling the corded strength in his shoulders respond instinctively. It was like being on top of a coiled spring—every movement precise, controlled, and brimming with unspoken confidence.

He chuckled, his laughter vibrating through me. “Good to hear. I’m not just holding you up—I’m making sure you’re getting the five-star experience.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t deny the exhilaration bubbling up inside me. Despite my initial reluctance, there was something undeniably thrilling about being perched on his shoulders, high above the water, surrounded by the sounds of splashing and laughter. The sun was warm on my skin, and the water glistened around us, catching the light in dazzling, ever-shifting patterns. And then there was Oscar’s energy—playful, supportive, and just cocky enough to make me want to win this silly game purely out of spite.

Oscar shifted beneath me, his muscles rippling as he adjusted to keep me perfectly balanced. His hands gripped my legs firmly, his touch sure and steady as if to remind me that, no matter how chaotic things got, he wasn’t letting me fall. I caught a quick glimpse of his grin, the way he was clearly enjoying every second of this, and it was impossible not to feel a rush of adrenaline mixed with something softer, something that made my heart beat just a little faster.

“Ready to take them down?” he asked, giving his shoulders another purposeful flex that sent a shiver through me, his playful arrogance on full display. “I’ve got the strength; you just bring the attitude.”

I tightened my grip, feeling a surge of competitive spirit rise within me. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of that,” I shot back, smirking down at him. “Just keep flexing, and we’ve got this in the bag.”

Oscar laughed, his eyes flicking up to meet mine with a look that was half challenge, half flirtation. “You got it. Hang tight, and let’s show these amateurs how it’s done.”

Edie shot us a look, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You’re going down!” she called out, already reaching forward with determination.

“We’ll see about that!” Oscar taunted back, adjusting his stance and giving his sisters a cocky nod. “Don’t worry, I’ve got the best rider in the game.”

The match was on, and I focused all my energy on staying balanced and pushing back against Edie’s determined attacks. Oscar’s hands gripped my legs tightly, holding me steady as we twisted and turned in the water. I could feel his muscles working beneath me, and every so often, he’d flex just a bit more than necessary, as if to remind me of the strength holding me up.

“You sure you don’t mind all this muscle under you?” Oscar teased, glancing up with a flirtatious smile. “I mean, I can tone it down if it’s too distracting.”

I laughed, half-exasperated, half-flustered by his shameless flirting. “Just focus on the game, muscle man.”

Oscar chuckled, giving me another little flex just for show. “Oh, I am. But if it helps, think of this as a free ride. Gym membership included.”

With one final push, I managed to shove Edie just enough to throw her off balance, sending her toppling back into the water with a dramatic splash. The victory was sweet, made even better by the stunned look on Hattie’s face as she struggled to keep her sister afloat. Edie resurfaced with a gasp, water streaming from her hair as she spluttered and shot me a half-impressed, half-annoyed glare.

“Ha!” I cheered, throwing my arms up in triumph, barely managing to keep my balance on Oscar’s shoulders. “We won!” My voice echoed with a mix of disbelief and exhilaration, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride.

Oscar laughed, his joy bubbling up as he spun us around in a celebratory twirl, the water splashing up in playful waves around us. I squealed, clutching his head to keep steady, but the sound was full of delight rather than fear. It was impossible not to get caught up in the moment, the sudden thrill of winning, and the infectious energy of everyone’s laughter.

“Told you we’d win,” Oscar said, looking up at me with that signature grin—broad, boyish, and brimming with a proud satisfaction that was almost contagious. He squeezed my legs slightly, just enough to remind me of his grip, his strength, and the fact that he’d been holding me up the whole time. “I never lose when I’ve got the right partner.”

I blushed, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through me at his words. The compliment was wrapped in that same playful bravado, but there was something genuine beneath it that caught me off guard. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and I tried to play it cool, though my grin was impossible to hide. “Well, I guess you’re lucky to have me, then,” I teased, flicking a bit of water down at him.

Oscar chuckled, adjusting his hold and giving his shoulders a little roll as if to flex just one last time. “Lucky doesn’t even cover it,” he quipped, his voice dipping into something almost sincere, and I found myself momentarily lost in the playful glint of his eyes.

Meanwhile, Hattie was already splashing water at Edie, who was still bobbing indignantly in the pool. “You got beat by a newbie!” Hattie crowed, laughing at her sister’s expense. “I thought you said you were unstoppable?”

Edie scowled but couldn’t suppress a grin, brushing her wet hair out of her face. “Alright, alright, you got us. But don’t get too cocky—we’ll be back for a rematch,” she said, pointing a challenging finger at me. “Next time, you’re going down.”

Mae paddled over, clapping her hands in mock applause. “That was epic! New girl just dethroned the queens of chicken. How does it feel to be pool royalty?”

I couldn’t stop laughing, the adrenaline still coursing through me as I basked in the impromptu victory. “Feels pretty damn good,” I said, shrugging nonchalantly even though I was still buzzing from the rush. “But I’ll let you guys keep your crowns. I’m more of a co-ruler kind of girl.”

Oscar tilted his head back, looking at me with a playful admiration that made my heart skip a beat. “See? She’s humble, too. The whole package,” he said, giving me a slight squeeze with his shoulders that made me tighten my grip reflexively.

“Okay, seriously, stop flirting,” Mae groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically as she splashed water at us. “It’s getting nauseating.”

Hattie laughed, shaking her head as she swam closer. “Yeah, tone it down, Romeo. No one wants to watch you make goo-goo eyes while you’re being a human ladder.”

Oscar just grinned, unbothered by their teasing, and looked up at me with an exaggerated wink. “Sorry, can’t help it. It’s not every day you get to team up with someone who makes winning look this good.”

I laughed, trying to ignore the way my cheeks flamed up at his unabashed flirtation. “You’re ridiculous,” I said, but my voice was light, and I couldn’t deny the flutter in my chest. For a moment, everything felt easy—like we were just two kids messing around, laughing, and letting the summer sun work its magic.

Mae, ever the bundle of energy, suddenly clapped her hands together, splashing water everywhere. “Alright, next game! We’re playing pool volleyball. Hattie, Edie, you’re with me. New girl and Romeo are on the other team,” she announced, pointing dramatically between us. “Time to see if you two are a one-hit wonder.”

Oscar’s eyes lit up at the challenge. “Oh, we’ll take you down,” he declared confidently, wading over to grab the neon volleyball bobbing nearby. “We’re basically undefeated at this point. Right, partner?”

“Undefeated for exactly one game,” I teased, but I couldn’t help feeling a competitive spark reignite. Mae quickly set up the makeshift “net,” which was really just a length of pool noodle stretched across the center of the pool, anchored down with pool chairs. It was half crooked, barely staying afloat, and not remotely official—but in that moment, it felt like the real deal.

Edie and Hattie took their places with Mae, who was already taunting us from across the water. “Ready to get wrecked? This is our turf, and we don’t go easy,” Mae called out, bouncing the ball a few times as if she were prepping for a major league serve.

Oscar leaned in close to me, his shoulder brushing mine under the water as he whispered, “They’re just sore losers. We’ve got this.”

The game kicked off with a wild serve from Mae that went soaring way over everyone’s heads and smacked into the side of the pool with a splash. “Nice aim,” I called, biting back a laugh.

“Shut up, it’s a warm-up!” Mae shot back, blushing as she retrieved the ball. She tried again, this time with a little more finesse, and the game was on.

Oscar and I found our rhythm surprisingly quickly, moving in sync as if we’d been playing together for ages. He’d bump the ball effortlessly, sending it just high enough for me to set it up perfectly, and I’d watch as he leapt out of the water with an exaggerated show of power, slamming it back over the noodle with a loud splash. Every point we scored, Oscar would raise his hand for a high-five, which quickly devolved into splashing water at each other playfully.

“Nice spike, partner!” I called, the thrill of teamwork coursing through me. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much fun doing something so simple. There was no pressure, no awkwardness—just pure, unfiltered enjoyment.

“Same to you!” Oscar responded, winking at me as he adjusted his swim shorts, the action so casual yet somehow making my heart skip a beat. “You’re making this too easy.”

The banter kept flowing as we played, each side fiercely determined not to lose. At one point, Hattie attempted a dramatic dive to save the ball, splashing wildly and nearly taking Edie down with her. “Friendly fire!” Edie yelped, giggling as they both resurfaced, water streaming from their hair.

Mae, ever competitive, huffed and glared at her sisters. “C’mon, focus! They’re not even that good!”

Oscar chuckled, elbowing me gently, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Hear that? We’re ‘not even that good.’ Guess we’ll have to try harder.”

I blinked, caught completely off guard by the not-so-subtle innuendo laced in his words. The way he said it—low, playful, with just the slightest hint of mischief—made my face heat up instantly. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck and flooding my cheeks, and there was no hiding it. It was like my skin had betrayed me, broadcasting exactly how flustered I felt.

I tried to play it off, clearing my throat and splashing water at him as a distraction. “Y-Yeah, maybe you should work on that,” I shot back, aiming for a confident tone, but my voice wavered just enough to make Oscar’s grin widen. His eyes were locked on mine, sparkling with a knowing look that made my stomach flip.

“Is that a challenge?” he teased, his smirk growing as he leaned a little closer, clearly enjoying how flustered I’d become. “Because I’m always up for trying harder.”

I sputtered, feeling the heat intensify across my face. This wasn’t fair—he was effortlessly charming, and I was just trying not to combust on the spot. “I meant at volleyball, obviously,” I muttered, though my flustered state made the retort sound weak. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Oscar laughed, the sound rich and teasing as he splashed me back. “Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he said, but the playful glint in his eyes told me he was fully aware of how his words had landed. “But hey, if you’re blushing this much already, maybe we really should up our game.”

I could practically feel my cheeks burning, and I desperately tried to focus on anything other than the way his grin made my heart race. “You’re impossible,” I managed to say, but my tone lacked any real bite. It was hard to stay annoyed when he looked at me like that, with his eyes dancing between flirtation and genuine enjoyment.

Oscar just shrugged, still grinning as he pushed his wet hair back from his forehead. “Only when it’s this much fun,” he said, giving me one last playful wink before turning his attention back to the game.

With one final serve from Oscar, the ball sailed perfectly over the net, and Edie reached for it just a second too late, sending it skimming across the water and out of bounds. The game was ours, and we celebrated like we’d just won an Olympic gold.

“Victory!” Oscar shouted, throwing his hands up in triumph before pulling me into a playful, wet hug, lifting me off my feet briefly before setting me back down with a splash. “We’re officially unstoppable.”

I laughed, caught up in the infectious joy of the moment, even as I tried to shove him away playfully. “We’re a pretty good team,” I admitted, feeling the heat in my cheeks again as I realized how much I meant it.

“Good? We’re amazing,” Oscar corrected, his grin wide and genuine. He was still holding onto my arm, and the closeness between us was impossible to ignore. “And just for the record, I’m always down for a rematch. Same team?”

I looked at him, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin, the cool water around us, and the flutter of excitement that had been there all day. “Same team,” I agreed, smiling as I splashed him one last time. “But only if you promise to keep showing off.”

Oscar’s laugh rang out clear and carefree, echoing across the pool. “Deal. With you around, I can’t help it.”

Before I could fire back a playful retort, the sound of my mom’s voice cut through the afternoon air. “Hey, everyone! Dinner’s almost ready!” she called from the patio, waving a spatula like a dinner bell. “Come dry off and get ready to eat!”

Immediately, the savory aroma of grilled kabobs wafted toward us, filling the air with the smoky scent of marinated chicken, bell peppers, and onions, all sizzling perfectly on the grill. My stomach rumbled in response, and I could already imagine the burst of flavors—the juicy, seasoned meat, the slight char from the grill, and the sweet tang of roasted vegetables. I could smell warm, buttery corn on the cob, the faint, sweet scent of freshly baked bread, and the mouthwatering aroma of garlic butter wafting from a pan of golden potatoes roasting nearby. The sharp, tangy scent of freshly made tzatziki filled the air, mingling with hints of lemon zest and olive oil, making the whole backyard smell like a perfect summer feast.

I glanced at the others, who were already paddling toward the pool’s edge, eager to get their hands on the spread. “Guess it’s time to eat,” I said, half to myself, but Oscar was still watching me with that easy smile, his gaze lingering a little too long.

“Need a hand?” he asked, swimming over and extending his arm to help me out. His eyes stayed locked on mine, but as I reached up to take his hand, I could feel the weight of his gaze trailing over me—curious, appreciative, and making my pulse quicken all at once.

“Uh, sure,” I mumbled, feeling awkwardly aware of the way the water dripped off my skin, each droplet tracing a cool path down my legs. Oscar’s grip was firm and warm as he pulled me up, his fingers wrapping around mine with an effortless strength that sent a jolt of awareness straight to my core. His touch lingered just a second longer than necessary, like he wasn’t quite ready to let go, and when he finally did, the absence of his hand felt oddly significant, like a small but noticeable void.

For a brief moment, everything else seemed to blur into the background—the laughter from the pool, the faint sizzle of the grill, the warm chatter of his sisters in the distance. It was just the two of us, and I was hyper-aware of every detail: the way his eyes traced the water cascading off my legs, the slight upward curve of his lips as if he found the whole scene incredibly fascinating, and the way his gaze felt almost tangible, brushing over me like a warm caress.

I reached for my towel, wrapping it around myself in a clumsy attempt to shield against the sudden vulnerability of his stare. I tried to focus on drying off, rubbing the soft fabric over my arms and shoulders, but every time I looked up, Oscar’s eyes were still on me—intense, unwavering, and far too distracting.

He leaned casually against the pool’s edge, his wet hair slicked back, the sun catching droplets on his skin that made him look like some kind of Greek statue come to life. But it was his expression that really caught me off guard—his usual playful smirk had softened, replaced by something more thoughtful, almost contemplative. It was like he was seeing me differently, not just the girl who had been splashing and laughing with him all day, but someone who held his attention in a way that felt new and unexpected.

“You alright there?” Oscar asked, his voice low and a little rough around the edges, pulling me out of my tangled thoughts. He didn’t look away, and his eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite place—curiosity, admiration, maybe even a hint of something deeper.

“Yeah, just… you know, drying off,” I replied, trying to sound casual, but my voice betrayed me, coming out breathless and light. I patted my hair with the towel, desperately hoping it would distract from the heat creeping up my neck and cheeks. But his gaze stayed locked on mine, like he was searching for something in my expression that I didn’t even know was there.

Oscar’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “You sure? You look a little… flustered,” he said, the teasing back in his tone, but softer, gentler than before. There was a hint of something else in his voice too, something that made my heart skip.

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it off even though I could feel my blush deepening under his scrutiny. “I’m not flustered,” I said, but it sounded weak even to my ears. “It’s just… hot out, and the water’s cold, and…” I trailed off, realizing I was babbling.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my struggle to keep my composure. “Sure, blame the weather,” he said, his voice laced with that familiar flirtation that made my pulse quicken. “But for the record, you’re pulling it off pretty well.”

I bit back a smile, unable to meet his eyes directly as I wrapped the towel tighter around me. “Thanks, I guess,” I mumbled, feeling simultaneously embarrassed and oddly exhilarated by his attention. He made it impossible to just shrug things off, to pretend like his lingering gaze didn’t affect me when, in reality, it felt like the most charged thing in the entire backyard.

Oscar pushed off the pool’s edge and stepped closer, his presence warm and solid, droplets of water still glistening on his skin. “You know,” he said, voice low and intimate, “I’ve seen a lot of people get out of pools, but none of them have ever managed to make it look like… this.”

I stared at him, caught between laughter and mortification. “Like what? Wet?” I shot back, trying to diffuse the tension, but it only made him smile more, a lazy, appreciative smile that sent another wave of heat rushing to my face.

“No,” he replied, taking a beat as if considering his next words carefully. “Like you’re the best thing I’ve seen all day.” His voice was quieter now, more earnest, and the sincerity in his eyes made my breath hitch.

The world seemed to tilt just a little, the sounds around us fading into the background as I searched for a response that wouldn’t make me sound like a complete idiot. “You… you’re ridiculous,” I said, barely managing to keep my voice steady. But there was no hiding the way my cheeks were blazing or the way my heart was pounding in my chest.

Oscar just grinned, seemingly pleased with himself as he picked up his own towel and started to dry off, though his eyes kept drifting back to me every few moments. It was like he couldn’t help himself, like something about this silly, sun-soaked afternoon had shifted between us in a way that neither of us fully understood yet.

I tried to play it cool, focusing on the scent of the food that was calling us closer. But it was hard to ignore the electric current in the air, the way Oscar’s eyes lingered on me with an intensity that made me feel seen, maybe even a little wanted. The warmth of his gaze seemed to burn hotter than the sun, like he was committing every detail of me to memory—the way my hair clung damply to my shoulders, the flush of my skin, the shy smiles I kept trying to hide.

I fidgeted with my towel, feeling suddenly self-conscious, but Oscar’s attention never wavered. He stepped closer, his expression still caught between playful and sincere, as if he was searching for something in my reaction that would let him keep pushing the boundaries. His fingers grazed the towel slung over his shoulder as he looked at me, and there was a softness in his eyes that wasn’t there before—a kind of unspoken question hanging between us.

“You don’t have to be so modest, you know,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with that familiar edge of teasing that I’d grown so used to. But there was a gentleness there, too, a hint of something more genuine. “It’s okay to let people see how great you are.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the shift from playful banter to something more personal, something that made my heart stumble. “You’re really laying it on thick today, huh?” I said, trying to laugh it off, but the words came out shakier than I intended.

Oscar shrugged, his smile turning softer, less cocky. “Only because you make it easy,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The way he said it—without hesitation, without the usual bravado—made my pulse quicken, and I had to look away, pretending to adjust my towel just to break the intensity of his stare.

But he wasn’t letting up. As we walked toward the patio, his gaze never strayed far, occasionally dipping down as if he couldn’t help but take in every detail. I could feel the weight of it, warm and steady, and it made my skin tingle in a way that was both exhilarating and unnerving.

We reached the table where the food was spread out—a colorful array of kabobs, salads, and bowls brimming with sides. My mom was fussing over the final touches, sprinkling fresh herbs over a platter of roasted vegetables, while the others were already grabbing plates and chatting animatedly. But I was still caught in the lingering tension of Oscar’s words, the way he’d looked at me like I was something special, something worth noticing.

“Hey,” Oscar said softly, catching my arm just as I reached for a plate. His touch was gentle, a light brush of his fingers that sent another wave of heat rushing through me. “I meant what I said, you know. You really are… something else.”

I turned to face him, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. His eyes were serious, searching mine as if waiting for some kind of acknowledgment. And for once, I didn’t have a sarcastic comeback or a teasing remark. All I could do was nod, my voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks, Oscar.”

His smile widened, this time more genuine than any of the smirks he’d flashed all day. “Anytime,” he said, his voice full of unspoken promises that made my chest tighten.

As I picked up my plate and moved to join the others, I could still feel the weight of his gaze on me, warm and unyielding. It was a look that said everything and nothing all at once, a silent acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, this was more than just a poolside flirtation. And as we sat down to eat, surrounded by the familiar hum of conversation and laughter, I couldn’t help but wonder where this unexpected spark between us would lead—or if I was ready to find out.

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taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09

[ifwbillie]

part 2 of billie teaching you to hide a horse for the first time (fluff) | b.e x fem!reader

a/n. fuck it im currently crying cause ill never experience this with billie. 😭😭😭😭😭

@queenalpha8-blog you asked for it, so here it is angel <3

part 1

the next day, the sky’s clear, the sun’s warm, and there’s a sense of calm that hangs in the air as billie gets the horses ready. she’s already in her element, chatting with the horses like they’re her old friends, while you’re still figuring out the whole “not falling off” thing.

“you ready to not fall off today?” billie teases, looking over at you with that mischievous grin.

you roll your eyes, trying to look confident, but you can feel the nerves creeping in. “i’m not falling off, i promise.”

“uh-huh,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, but her smile softens right after. “if you do, i’ll catch you. i got you.”

you smile at that, feeling a little better. “you’re so sweet,” you reply, trying to act like you’re not nervous, but the way she looks at you makes everything feel a little easier.

soon enough, you’re both mounted and ready to go. billie takes the lead, riding gracefully, while you follow her, trying to remember everything she taught you the day before. the way to hold the reins, how to position your body, and, most importantly, how not to panic.

“doing good so far,” she calls over her shoulder, a grin in her voice. “i knew you’d get the hang of it.”

you try not to look too proud, but you can’t help it. “yeah, look at me, totally not falling off.”

billie glances back and laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “don’t get cocky, babe. we’ve still got a long way to go.”

as you ride side by side, you can’t help but notice how easy it is to be around her. the teasing, the jokes, the way she keeps you laughing—it all feels so natural, like nothing else matters when you’re together.

after a while, billie pulls her horse to a stop and glances at you with that playful glint in her eyes. “i think we’ve earned a break, don’t you? let’s find a spot to chill.”

you follow her lead, finding a quiet spot in the shade, and she hops off her horse with ease, then turns to you. “you look like you’re about to fall off again,” she says, laughing. “let’s take a breather.”

you grin, a little embarrassed but mostly grateful for her patience. “thanks for not laughing at me.”

“are you kidding?” she teases, helping you down from your horse. “i’m definitely laughing. but in a cute way. promise.”

as she spreads out a blanket, you sit down beside her, your legs still a little wobbly from the ride. billie leans her head on your shoulder, her usual teasing tone gone, replaced with something softer.

“i’m proud of you, though,” she says quietly, and you can hear the sincerity in her voice. “you’re doing awesome.”

you can feel your heart soften, and for a moment, everything feels calm. “thanks, billie,” you whisper, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “i’m glad you’re here.”

“of course, babe,” she says, squeezing your hand back. “i’m always here. you’re stuck with me forever.”

the words hang in the air, and you can’t help but smile, feeling the weight of them, even if she says them casually. “i’m not complaining,” you reply, resting your head against hers.

she chuckles softly, turning to kiss your cheek. “good, because i love you way too much to let you go.”

“i love you too,” you say, leaning into her kiss, feeling the warmth of the moment.

as the day fades and the sun starts to dip toward the horizon, the two of you sit together, laughing, teasing, and just enjoying the quiet of the world around you. the horses graze nearby, and the sky turns shades of pink and orange.

billie looks at you, her eyes soft but full of adoration. “babygirl, you’re more beautiful than this sunset,” she says, her voice full of sincerity.

“you’re so cringe,” you laugh, nudging her playfully.

“hey, i just love you,” she pouts, her voice low. “and it’s true, you’re prettier than the sunset.”

“yeah, yeah, i believe in you,” you say with a mock roll of your eyes, not able to resist teasing her back.

billie pinches your cheek, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “you better run,” you warn, pretending to be serious.

“from you? never,” she says, throwing her arms up in mock surrender. “come with everything you have.”

you both laugh, and you realize how much you love moments like this with her.

after a moment, billie glances at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief again.

“you know,” she says, leaning closer, her voice mock-serious, “i could eat you right here. would be a new experience.”

“billie?” you gasp, trying not to laugh. “shut up.”

“i’m serious, okay!” she insists, her tone so earnest it only makes it funnier.

you finally burst out laughing, and billie joins in, wrapping you in her arms as the laughter fades into soft giggles. in that moment, everything feels perfect, ridiculous, and yours.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Hey! I just had a wisdom tooth removal surgery and it got me thinking, what would a Bucky x Reader be like if she were to have that surgery? I imagine the Reader would be extremely loopy 😅🥲

Have fun with this x

Loopy

Warnings: None, just fluff!

The mission to extract your wisdom teeth wasn’t exactly Hydra-level in terms of danger, but in your world, it might as well have been. Dental anxiety was no joke. Bucky Barnes, your boyfriend and ever-reliable partner in life, had promised to stick by you through it all. His assurances had included phrases like, “I’ll take care of you, Doll,” and, “We’ll get through this together,” whispered with the same conviction he used during tactical planning.

He really had no idea what he was signing up for.

The morning of the surgery, Bucky was already at your side, helping you into a comfy hoodie and making sure your favorite blanket was in the car. You were anxious, bouncing your leg as he drove you to the oral surgeon’s office.

“Doll,” he said softly, reaching over to place his vibranium hand over your jittery one, “it’s just a routine thing. You’ll be in and out before you know it.”

You nodded but muttered, “Easy for you to say. You don’t have someone coming at you with sharp instruments.”

“Sweetheart, I used to be the sharp instrument.”

You glared at him, but the corner of his mouth twitched, and soon you were laughing despite yourself. He parked the car and helped you inside, his presence grounding you as much as it could.

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The surgery itself was a blur. One minute, the nurse was inserting an IV, and the next, you were groggily waking up with cotton stuffed in your mouth and a vague sense of accomplishment, as though you’d just conquered something monumental.

And then the anesthesia hit in full force.

“Bucky,” you slurred, squinting at his face as he crouched down to help you into the car. “Did you know… you’re hot?”

Bucky froze mid-movement, his lips twitching as he tried not to laugh. “Thanks, Doll. Glad you think so.”

“No, no,” you insisted, poking his cheek with a wobbly finger. “Like, really hot. Like… like the sun. You’re like the sun, Buckyyy.”

“Alright, let’s get you in the car before you start writing me poetry,” he said, lifting you easily into the passenger seat. He buckled you in as you pouted at him.

“You’re my sun,” you mumbled dreamily, head lolling back against the seat.

“And you’re my moon,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You gasped suddenly, eyes wide. “Does that make us… a solar eclipse?”

Bucky snorted so loudly he startled himself. “Sure, Doll. We’re a solar eclipse.”

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By the time he got you settled into the car, it was clear the anesthesia had taken full control. Your head lolled against the headrest, and your eyes flitted about as though you were seeing the world for the first time. Every mundane thing became an epic discovery.

“Oh my God, Bucky!” you gasped, pointing out the window with the urgency of someone spotting a UFO. “Look! A dog!”

He smiled. “Yeah, Doll, I see it.”

You turned to him, deadly serious. “Do you think it knows how to drive?”

He blinked, caught between wanting to laugh and wondering if he should be concerned. “I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

“Well, it should. Dogs deserve to drive. They’ve been walking for centuries. It’s not fair.”

“Right, I’ll bring it up at the next town hall meeting,” he deadpanned, eyes flicking back to the road.

“You’d better. I’ll be your campaign manager. ‘Vote for Bucky: The Man Who Fights for Canine Vac-….vehic-ic-ular Rights.’”

A snort escaped him before he could stop it. “Canine vehicular rights, huh?”

You nodded sagely. “That dog was a visionary. It was staring at me like it understood my soul.”

“It was eating grass, Doll.”

“It’s a genius. You just don’t get it.”

He didn’t reply, too busy biting the inside of his cheek to keep from outright laughing, but you weren’t done.

“Wait! Another dog! Hi, doggy!” you shouted, waving energetically at a blur of fur as the car sped past. “Did you see it, Bucky? Did you?”

“Yes, Doll, I saw it.”

“Do you think they’re friends? Like, maybe they meet up on weekends and play poker or something.”

“I’m sure they do, Doll. High-stakes poker games behind the gas station.”

“YES!” you shouted triumphantly, pumping your fist. “I knew it. Dogs are so organized.”

You fell quiet for a moment, which Bucky foolishly thought might mean the conversation was over. But then your head turned toward him, eyes wide with wonder.

“Do you think I could join their poker club?”

“Doll, you don’t know how to play poker.”

You hummed. “Neither do the dogs, James. It’s about the vibes.”

At that point, Bucky had to pull over because he was laughing so hard he could barely keep his hands steady on the wheel. His shoulders shook as he rested his forehead against the steering wheel, while you looked at him in confusion.

“What’s so funny?” you asked innocently, chewing on a piece of gauze. “This is serious business. Dogs are the backbone of society, Bucky. You wouldn’t even have your arm without them.”

His head shot up, tears of laughter streaming down his face. “What does that even mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” you huffed, crossing your arms and turning to stare out the window, your cheeks puffed with righteous indignation and gauze.

Endlessly entertained, Bucky got the car moving again, but not without a few parting words from you:

“I’m gonna start a revolution,” you declared. “Dogs n’ cars. Dogs n’ hats. Dogs running for Congress. Buckle up. I am changing the world.”

“Whatever you say, Doll,” he murmured, grinning to himself. “Whatever you say.”

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By the time he got you home, you’d become fascinated by his metal arm.

“Bucky, can I touch it?” you asked, staring at it like it was the eighth wonder of the world.

“You touch it all the time, Doll.”

“Yeah, but now I’m different. I’m wiser.”

“That’s not how wisdom teeth work, my love.”

Ignoring him, you grabbed his arm with both hands, marveling at the coolness of the vibranium. “You’re like a Transformer. Can you transform into a car? I bet you can. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“No.”

“A plane?”

“No, Doll.”

“A toaster?”

“Why would I transform into a toaster?”

“For toast, obviously.” You rolled your eyes as though it were the most obvious answer in the world.

Bucky let out a long-suffering sigh, but the twitching corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

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The pinnacle of the day’s chaos came when you decided to take inventory of your cheeks in the bathroom mirror.

“They’re so big!” you exclaimed, poking at your swollen face. “I look like a chipmunk. Bucky, do you think Steve would still let me join the Avengers like this?”

Bucky leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and a smirk on his lips. “Absolutely. You’d be the most adorable Avenger.”

“Adorable?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes at him in offense. “I am feracious.”

“Ferocious? Sure you are, Doll.”

“Wanna see?” You suddenly bared your teeth—or rather, the cotton-filled abyss of your mouth—and growled, which sounded more like a muffled gargle.

Bucky laughed so hard he had to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

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The rest of the day was a blur of Netflix, popsicles, and increasingly ridiculous questions.

“If you could be any animal, what would you be?” you asked at one point, sprawled out on the couch with an ice pack on your face.

“A wolf,” he answered without hesitation. “What about you?”

You thought about it for a long moment before declaring, “A jellyfish.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “A jellyfish?”

“Yeah. They’re squishy and floaty. Like me right now.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “You’re something else, Doll.”

You blinked up at him, your expression shifting into one of profound seriousness. “Do you think cats have secret jobs?”

Bucky paused mid-sip of his coffee. “Secret jobs?”

“Yeah,” you whispered conspiratorially, as if the walls might have ears. “Like… maybe they’re spies. Or accountants. Or both.”

“Spies and accountants?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Think about it, Bucky. Cats are always watching. Sitting in windows, judging everyone, like, ‘Oh, Jerry didn’t pay his taxes again.’ You ever wonder why they knock stuff off tables? They’re sending messages.”

“To who?” he asked, genuinely curious now, because he couldn’t figure out how your brain had arrived at this.

“To their bosses! The ones running the underground cat syndicate!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Bucky’s lips quirked up in a grin. “And what exactly do these bosses do with the info?”

You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a hushed tone. “They’re buying lasers. And tuna. The expensive kind.”

Bucky burst out laughing, his head tipping back as you nodded solemnly at your own revelation.

“They’re probably watching us right now,” you added, side-eyeing a patch of empty space on the couch. “Act normal, James. Normal.”

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By the time the anesthesia fully wore off and you were back to your usual self, Bucky had compiled an impressive list of your antics to tease you with.

“You told me I was a Transformer,” he reminded you later that evening, a mischievous glint in his eye. “And that I should transform into a toaster.”

Your groan was muffled by the pillow you’d shoved your face into. “Oh my God, stop.”

“Never,” he promised, pulling you into his arms. “You were the cutest little loopy chipmunk I’ve ever seen.”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but laugh. With Bucky by your side, even the most ridiculous days were unforgettable…

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Hey, hope you enjoyed this, I did certainly have fun writing this! 😂🫶

[wimmipimmi]

Important Things

Pairing: Lara Croft x GN!Reader

Requested By: @innammoratta

Word Count: ???

Summary: You and Lara are best friends in the middle of searching for the box of Ix Chel. When she gets injured and you two stop for the night to take care of her wounds, things come out that you never thought would.

Tags/Warnings: Lara and reader are best friends, based on the jaguar fight scene in the 'Shadow of the Tomb Raider' game, confessions, kissing, talk of Lara fighting the jaguar and skinning it, but nothing graphic or violent

A/N: This has been *checks calendar* over a year in the making 🧍‍♀️I am so sorry to the person that requested this that it took me this long, me and writing are a weird one, but I finally managed to knock this out 🤩 hope it is to your liking, and to all the Lara Croft lovers out there, enjoy! 🫶🏻

-

"Shit, Lara!" You strain to shout, fear buzzing through your body as you feel your heartbeat racing inside your chest.

Your sight of her is somewhat obscured by branches and other flora, but you can see enough to watch her as she struggles against the jaguars grip, its nails and teeth clawing against Lara's skin, and the sound of her in pain does nothing to make you feel more calm.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Hands on your head, you wrack your brain as for how to help, but your brain seems to blank, the only thing it's focusing on is seeing Lara in this dangerous situation. Your heart feels like it's about to explode, and your breathing has now become quickened and shallow. You hit yourself lightly on the head, eyes squeezed tightly shut as you force your brain to think.

If she dies right now, that's on you.

The though seems to kick your brain back to life as before you know it, you've grabbed the flare gun from your left pant leg strap and thrown it under the piece of stone towards a still struggling Lara.

"Lara! Flare gun!" You shout, hoping and praying that she gets it and can shoot the jaguar in time.

Everything seems to slow down as you watch Lara move to grab the gun, just narrowly missing another attack. Eyes becoming blurry as your fear increases, you can't properly make out anything else that seems to happen.

Crack.

Blinking rapidly, your eyes finally focus, noticing little sparks. Then a quick blur passing you makes you realise that you did it. She did it. Lara is back up with her bow drawn, ready to release it.

Hope bubbles up in your stomach, releasing a breath you didn't realise you were holding. Your fingers grip the long and heavy piece of stone, trying to lift it up enough so you can get underneath and help her but to no avail.

"Shit." You whisper to yourself as you pant, most of your energy having been exhausted.

You helplessly watch as Lara skillfuly takes out the jaguar, one well placed shot at a time.

"Lara!" You cry out once you see the animal drop dead, worried about her condition. Her head turns immediately to where you are, and she makes her way over towards you.

Without a word, you both lift up the stone, and you crawl underneath to the other side as quickly as you can. As soon as she drops it, you're quick to envelope her in a hug, tears streaming down your face.

"I'm so glad you're okay!" A hiss makes you immediately release your hold, resting your hands on her upper arms instead.

"I'm so sorry Lara. I wish I could've helped you more, I-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay, you helped me more than you know-"

"But it's not okay! I mean you could've-. You could've died Lara!"

She grabs your hands from her arms and holds them in front of you both. Your crying subsides a little, and you subconsciously welcome the warmth her hands bring to yours.

"But I'm not. I'm right here in front of you. And I'm not going anywhere. Understood?" She ressures you, her tone serious but with a sweet tinge.

You sniffle, a wobbly smile rising onto your lips, and one appears on Lara's too when she notices yours. Yours eyes flicker over her form, and that's when you notice just how battered and exhausted she looks.

"Are you okay?" You ask so quietly it's almost a whisper.

She releases her hands from yours and shrugs.

"I'm fine, just a little shaken up."

She turns and walks over to the jaguar to begin skinning it, and your eyes turn into saucers as you notice the huge gash on her back.

"Holy shit, Lara... your back." You exhale out. She stands up and turns to you after she's done. You grab her free hand.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Is all you can say, a million thoughts wracking through your brain.

-

It's nighttime, the both of you having found a place to start a fire and seek shelter for the night so you both can rest up and eat. Much to Lara's protest, you're in the middle of helping her clean up her wounds on her back as she's sewing something you can't exactly make yet out of the jaguar skin she got before.

"Sorry." You whisper out as you hear her hiss again from the pain of you dabbing a part of her back with an antiseptic and cloth.

"I had a dream about my mother recently."

You perk your head up, even though Lara can't see you.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It was so vivid." You hear the happiness in her voice. You feel a smile perk up on your lips as you continue to take care of her wounds. It's quiet for a moment.

"I miss her."

You pause what you're doing and look at the back of her head. A pained grin appears on your mouth for a split second, then you continue to finish bandaging up her injury.

"I know you do."

Another moment goes by.

"If you had the box, then power to have any type of world you wished for. Would you do it." Lara asks you.

You ponder for a moment, a few ideas floating around your brain. But when your eyes fall back to her dark hair in front of you, you know your answer.

"No. I don't think I would."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. As much as there are plenty of things I would change in this world, everything I love is already in it." You say gently as you finish the last bandage, smoothing out Lara's back.

She feels that you've finished and turns around to face you, a small smile on her face.

"Like your stupid rock collection, or sushi, or your gaming console, huh?" She quips, an all-knowing smirk appearing on her lips.

You scoff and playfully roll your eyes, them landing back on her lips as you both start laughing.

"Yes, of course there are those, but there are also more important things than that."

"Like what?" She asks, and both of your laughing dies down.

Looking in her eyes, you notice how they're illuminated by the fire. You would walk through the fire in her eyes to truly see into her being and stay there.

Instinctively, you bring your right hand up and cup the side of her face. Her eyes widen. You gently rub your thumb on her cheek back and forth.

An owl hoots in the distance, cutting you out of whatever trance you were in. Blinking a few times, the realisation of what you've done hits you, and you go to pull your hand away.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so-"

You feel something stop you. Looking down, you see Lara's hand around your wrist. Your eyes flicker over to her face, and you notice her becoming a little flustered.

"No... it's okay." Lara whispers out as she slowly brings your palm back to the side of her face, leaning into it a little.

You swallow nervously, senses hightened by her touch. Has she always been this close to you this entire time? You were unsure, but couldn't think any further on it as you both stare into each others' eyes.

It feels so nice, you feel yourself getting warmer, an almost burning sensation in your chest. That's when the thought pops into your head.

You really want to kiss her.

You know you shouldn't. She's been your best friend for how many years? You're one of the only close people she has left. If you do anything stupid now and ruin what you two have, it'd be more devastating. But the urge doesn't leave, it crawling through your veins like an itch you can't scratch.

And then you see it.

Her eyes. Flicker down. To your lips.

You freeze at the realisation. What this could possibly mean.

You really want to kiss her.

Your eyes search hers, looking for something, though you're not sure what. Her eyes lock onto yours.

You really want to kiss her.

You notice her face move slowly towards yours as she moves her hand from your wrist all the way up your arm, around your shoulder, down your back until it sits on your waist.

You really want to kiss her.

Her face stops an inch before yours, so close you can feel her breath on your face. She looks into your eyes again one more time, as if she's waiting for you to pull back in disgust and adamantly say no.

You do nothing of the sort.

You kiss her.

The feeling of her lips is nothing like you've felt before. They're a little chapped, but it doesn't matter because you're kissing her.

You kiss her for what feels like minutes, as if you've been starved of her. Moving closer to each other, your other hand moves to the back of her neck, threading the tops of your fingers through her hair, whilst her other hand rests on your thigh.

When you both stop, you rest your foreheads against each other's, looking into each other's eyes as you both sheepishly smile.

A silence passes.

"You."

Confusion contorts on Lara's face.

"What?"

"I wouldn't change this world because you're in it."

Lara smiles lovingly at you as she rubs her thumb against your thigh.

"I wouldn't either."

~

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you all enjoyed! My ask box is open and currently taking any requests! Please check my pinned post for who I write and some rules. Have a great day :)