#grammarly can go to hell

[noparadiseinthis]

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

Series: Come away, O human child! Part 2:

She dreamed of paradise

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Read part 1 here.

Warnings: explicit domestic violence and abusive relationships. Descriptions of physical violence. Reader is married and has a child.

Summary: Spencer sees a mark on you. He decides that if no one is going to do anything about it, then he will. If only he can convince you to accept help.

Steve was strangely calm on the way home. He had asked the sheriff for permission to take you and Willy away during his lunch break with the excuse that he was worried about the disappearance of women that had been happening in town, just like an ideal husband, but you knew the real reason, he wanted to keep an eye on you.

"Well?" he asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at you.

You knew it was best to let him speak first, so you waited for Steve to start, no matter how tense you were.

"The FBI guy, what did he want?"

"Nothing much, he was just playing with Will, he knew magic tricks."

You didn't mention the terror you felt when you saw that your son wasn't by your side, he could never relate to that, he could never understand the deep emptiness that existed inside you when Will wasn't around. He was all the light you needed.

"And you let some stranger talk to our son? I can't leave you two alone anyway."

Sometimes you didn't quite understand Steve's intentions, even though you knew there was a reason behind everything.

"He's FBI, isn't he?"

It was a risky move, rebutting what he was saying. Luckily for you, it seemed to be a good day, because he did nothing but raise an eyebrow and snort.

"I don't want you two anywhere near that guy."

You just nodded, distracted as you wondered what was so special about Dr. Reid that Steve reacted like that, your curiosity piqued. Was he trying to push you away from one more person before any bonding had even begun? Surely he couldn't have been afraid that you would turn him in since you had already understood a long time ago that no one would help you or even give you a second glance. If I could go back in time, I would have run as soon as Steve showed interest in joining the police. A bunch of conniving vibrators, they were.

"We'll never see him again," you reassured him.

"Well," your husband muttered, "you know why I do it. I have to protect my family."

With a silly, fake smile on your face, you agreed as you stroked his arm, looking through the rearview mirror at Will sleeping in the back seat. You could do this for another 13 years, right? Just hang in there.

•••

Spencer gathered his things from the table, putting them in his bag as he prepared to go to the hotel, hoping to get a good night's sleep and work with more focus and renewed vigor the next day. He spent the rest of the day reliving his interaction with you down to the smallest detail, remembering and recalling her tone of voice, her posture, and her submission when her husband appeared. If was right, his name was Steve.

The policeman in question left the police station for an hour and returned soon after, casting long glances at Spencer, none like yours, who followed him to his hotel room, until he laid his head on the pillow and far beyond that, invading his dreams.

•••

5 days in the same city was a lot on the Spencer scale. Enough to make the UNSUB profile, but not enough to capture him. He lived in the shadows, preying on the most vulnerable people in that small, broken society that was your little town: the women. More specifically, the housewives. Spencer spent these days wondering if you had any job.

"What the hell?" He heard Morgan's voice exclaim with surprise, raising her head to look at the source. That's when spotted William, wandering around outside the glass-walled room they were in. The boy walked between the tables as if he belonged there, but stood out from his surroundings. "Who is he?"

"Cop Steve's son." Spencer murmured, attracting the attention of his colleagues.

"Do you know him? How?" JJ asked.

Spencer shrugged. "Kids like magic. He came here a few days ago, must have run away from his mom again. I thought Morgan had seen him before."

"Well, I didn't see. There's something strange about that boy's father-" Turning away as he spoke, Derek was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and a child's voice shouting happily.

"Dr. Reid!"

As if it were second nature, Spencer rose from his seat to kneel in front of the child and greeted him back with a smile.

"Hey, Willy," he held up his open palm, which made the boy laugh and high-fived him, "What are you doing here, kid?"

"Mom came to bring Dad's lunch again, but I wanted to see you."

Spencer sighed with an understanding smile, looking around at his classmates who stared rather shocked at their very natural interaction.

"And does your mom know you're with me?"

The look he shifted to the floor said everything the doctor needed to know.

"You can't just disappear, young man. Do you know where she is?"

Will nodded. "In the big room with Daddy."

Spencer looked at Hotch, who understood immediately and sighed tiredly before nodding and nodding towards the door, permitting him to leave.

"Let's find her then, shall we?"

William walked out hand in hand with the man, leaving Spencer shocked that a policeman's son was so ill-educated, regardless of his age. Children could be sociable. They should be. That didn't exclude all the evil that lurked outside the house - or inside - the boy seemed the pure image of naivety. Worrying. He couldn't tell you why he cared so much.

"So, Willy, why did you split up with Mom? You heard what she said, she gets worried when you disappear like that."

"Because they were starting over."

"Starting what?" Reid asked, frowning and looking down to see the child's face, who didn't answer. "Starting what, William?" he asked again.

•••

"How did you manage to lose sight of him? For God's sake, this is a police station!" Steve exclaimed furiously, although he growled quietly. He didn't believe in announcing his problems to the world.

"I let go of his hand for a second and he disappeared!" You retorted, your eyes watering as you thought about what he could have gotten himself into this time. "It's not my fault," you continued, hugging your body as if trying to convince yourself.

Your husband snorted, scorn appearing on his face as he approached, and suddenly any courage you had was thrown out of the window. You looked around, at the walls that gave you so little privacy. We're in public, you thought, like a mantra. He didn't do anything in public. He didn't do anything in public. He grabbed your arm. Moreover, his nails dug in, forcing and tearing at your skin as his instinct acted and tried to pull your arm back, but he held back. As he always did. Apart from the pain, all you could think about was what a bad idea it was to wear short sleeves that day.

"What good are you anyway, if you can't even look after my son properly?"

Your eyes were injected with rage and you swallowed, watching the face of the man you once thought would make you the happiest woman in the world. The man who promised you the world while hugging you in a college dormitory bathroom and holding a pregnancy test with a small smile on his face. Eyes crinkled with joy as he stroked your still flat belly and whispered such sweet things. A time when you thought you could face anything as long as you had him by your side. You no longer saw any of that in the man in front of you. He ripped any last shred of hope from your cold, dead hands and then made you dig your own emotional grave, as deep as his nails could go into your skin. You barely felt the pain anymore. You didn't even feel anything, until you heard the familiar voice of the light of your life, pulling you out of that dark pit as it always did.

Quickly, Steve retracted his arm, taking a deep breath and swallowing as he turned to where he had heard his son's voice, his nostrils flaring as he saw who was with him.

•••

Spencer never got a verbal answer to his question from William, but he didn't need one. The scene in front of him said it all, and from the way the boy squeezed his hand tighter, he could tell that Will knew there was something wrong between his parents. Fortunately, the boy was too short to have the same field of vision as Reid. Luckily, he hadn't seen the terrified look on his mother's face, let alone his father's aggressive grip.

Will shouting "Mommy" and letting go of your hand to run to you provided him with a new horizon. It brought back memories. That of trying to be a mediator within a broken family, even in childhood.

•••

Steve never spent much time around William anyway, so when he left quickly, you didn't mind, you were relieved. Noticing that Dr. Reid wasn't going to move away, you sighed, hiding the nail mark against your own body as you watched him enter the room you were in.

"Hey, honey, want to play a little?" you asked, taking your cell phone out of your pocket and handing it to your son, who quickly agreed and went to the corner of the 'big room', as he called it, oblivious to the rest of the world.

"I never knew your name."

You snorted, wondering how that was the first thing he chose to say, but in the end, he did say your name.

"You don't have to hide it, I've already seen it." Spencer continued, making sure to speak quietly so that the child wouldn't hear them and to keep the anger out of his voice.

You swallowed, wondering what you had done to deserve two humiliations in a row on the same day, trying to force yourself to remain calm and expressionless, assessing how much of a risk the mysterious doctor could be to you or your child.

"I'm sorry about William again today, it'll never happen again."

Spencer couldn't stop himself from analyzing you, and what he saw brought him the most mixed emotions. You were profiling him too. You are a profiler for survival, someone who needs to know how to act in every situation so as not to get hurt. It made your head spin, your throat dry and your hands twitch. "It's called empathy. Use it to be a better person," Derek once told him.

"You know this is a crime; I can arrest him right now if you want; this room has cameras, and you're... you're hurt."

To his surprise, you laughed in his face. A bitter laugh. The kind he wished you'd never hear again.

"Are you an idiot, Dr. Reid?" you asked, without any humor. "Is that how you sleep best at night? Look around you, see where we are. In a police station full of men. Do you think you're the first to see something like that in me?"

Suddenly, it was as if a dam broke and you felt the uncontrollable urge to channel all your anger at Dr. Spencer Reid, pointing at the wound on his arm, the little blood already dried. This made the agent sigh. He had never really been able to understand how someone could hurt a person they had sworn to love so deeply.

"Well, the FBI wasn't here before."

You just sighed, pressing your lips together to stop a torrent of tears. He would never know that fear like you did. Even if Steve was still arrested, what would you do next? How would you be able to raise your son in a place like this, where your husband was the model citizen of the city and you were the bitch who put him in prison?

"You just don't understand. Please go away, Dr. Reid."

Go away, and don't you dare even try to give me false hope because I killed them all for my own good a long time ago, you thought.

Spencer couldn't accept that it would end like this. There had to be something, there had to be a way. Not for the first time in his life, he thought that people should come with a manual. It was time to do your job, even if you felt terrible about using your weakness against yourself.

"And is it worth it? Raising a child in such an environment?"

"I've managed to keep Will away for five years. So as long as he's safe, yes, it's worth it," you replied, your back to him.

Spencer sighed, squeezing his thigh as he cursed himself for influencing you like that. All for the greater good.

"Except that he already knows. Kids are a lot more observant than people think."

You turned like lightning.

"What are you talking about?"

You couldn't. You couldn't lose the only certainty you had in life. That Will was your sea of positivity, away from everything that was really going on at home, growing up happily, without any resentment. You swore that when he was born. It was the only promise it would kill you to break.

Spencer hated being the cause of the look of terror on his face this time, but like all the other times in his life when it was necessary, he took courage and started telling.

Taglist (if you want in or out, just let me know):

@yokaimoon @fanfic-viewer

A/n: I was wonderfully surprised by how well received the first part was. I hope you enjoy the second as much. Thank you for your support

[skelly-words]

hiii , if i can ask for like mammon and mc sitting in his room and he tried to "do it" with her a lot of times but she just stop him , one day he get a little mad so asked for asmo help , so asmo asked mc what was the reason and she told him that she feel insecure abt her body , he conferm her، and when asmo tell mammon abt it he go to her and make her love her body on his way

thanks if u accept it and if not have a good day<333333

(NSFW Mammon x Reader)

18+ no minors allowed!

Hiiiii anon, thanks for the ask. hope this is what you were looking for. This was proofread by Grammarly and that's it so I apologize in advance for mistakes.

No use of Y/N. There are no pronouns used (I think) but the reader is pretty feminine (wears a skirt, pretty girl is used once or twice, has a pussy.)

Tags: serviceswitch!mammon o7, very vanilla, light fluff, praise, cunnilingus, cumming untouched, very light angst, hair pulling, language, spit kink? lemme know if I missed anything

Synopsis: see ask above. Mammon eats you out.

Wc: 3.7k

You and Asmo love to gossip. Every week or so you get together, shopping and pampering yourselves and spilling every detail of your personal lives. You're ending the relaxing afternoon with bottomless mimosas at Hell’s Kitchen’s Sunday brunch, talking way too loudly about everybody’s business. It’s so easy to forget about the world and vent when the waiter fills up your champagne glass and Asmo smiles so encouragingly at every word you say. Though, today it seems like Asmodeus has an agenda. He keeps steering the conversation towards you and Mammon’s budding relationship, which is exactly the topic you want to avoid. 

“At least tell me if he's a decent lay” Asmo whines. “If not I have a 50-slide presentation I can send you to give him a crash course in pussy.”

“That sounds more like a master’s program. Besides, I wouldn't know.” You mumble the last part around the rim of the champagne glass as you down the drink, and Asmo signals at a waitress to bring you a refill. 

“What?” Asmo really tries to sell his shock here. He feels bad lying to you, but it's not often he has Mammon begging for a favor. “No way, are you losing interest?”

You shake your head quickly. “No.”

“Are you a virgin? Is it too much pressure?” With every question he scoots a little closer to you in the booth, so you only need to whisper an answer. 

“Nothing like that. I've been with a couple of people before, and Mammon is really sweet. He barely even mentions sex at all anymore. I think he might even be scared to kiss me. I'm more worried about him losing interest if I don't put out.”

“You don't have to worry about that. He's insane about you.” Asmo scoffs. “Like he-should-be-institutionalized insane.”

You laugh at Asmo and shove his arm off of where it loops over your shoulder. 

“No, I'm serious,” he continues. “I want to sedate him before even mentioning you. I think he'd rename important landmarks after you if he could. Whenever his mouth opens, there's a 96% chance he's gonna bring you up. You get it?”

“Thanks, I get it,” you murmur softly. Tears threaten to fall as your vision blurs a little and you blame the four mimosas and the fifth one the waitress sets in front of you. “Now I feel guilty. He's too sweet for me.”

“No, hun. That's not what I meant.” Asmo pulls you into a hug. A real one that he doesn't let you shrug off. “What I'm saying is that you can talk to him about whatever you want and I'm sure he’ll understand or at least help you work through it.”

His hug is warm and soothing, arms holding you close and tight without feeling suffocating. 

“You're the best, Asmo,” The words are a little slurred and shaky, but it’s easy to get emotional when you’re buzzed and Asmo is being so sweet. “I don’t know. It has nothing to do with Mammon. It’s just, I’ve never had great self-esteem, so physical intimacy can be a little hard. I mean, there's plenty of things for me to be insecure about, and I'm aware of every single one of them, so when I see how pretty and perfect Mammon is-”

“Gross.” He cuts you off at the perfect time, right before your sappy rambling. He makes a retching sound and reaches for his drink to wash away that sourness. 

You glare up at him. “That's my boyfriend you're gagging at, asshole.”

“Yeah. You sure know how to pick ‘em.” His nose scrunches up, and you're half-sure it’s involuntary. 

“Yeah.” You sigh dreamily and continue. “I just don't know how to bring a mood-killer like that up.”

“Want me to tell him for you?”

You think about it for a moment. “I feel like I should stop being a little bitch and just rip off the band-aid.”

“Okay, you could, but you haven't.”

“I think talking it out with you will make it easier though. I'm gonna talk to him as soon as we get home.”

“Promise? Cause I'm sick of him bitching about how you don't love him anymore.”

You smile and nod and pretend the confidence is from more than the alcohol. “I promise.”

***

Mammon’s been waiting for Asmo to text him all day, nervously pacing or playing with random things in his room to occupy the time. He’s flipping through an old copy of a magazine he modeled for when his phone buzzes with Asmo’s custom ringtone, quickly followed by yours. He snatches the phone off the bed and flops down between the pillows. He reads the text from Asmo first.

Asmo: So so, sorry, but I can’t spill ): We’ll be home in like 20 minutes

“Ugh.” Mammon glares at the ceiling. He was sure Asmo would come through. Especially after loaning you two Lucifer’s stolen his credit card for the day out. 

Mammon opened your messages next.

<3: We’ll be back in a little bit.

<3: If you’re not busy, let’s hang out. Love ya

Mammon: I’m never too busy for you, chillin' in my room

<3: Good answer

The next twenty minutes are spent trying to figure out how to dress. Mammon tries to master the look of lazily lounging around the house without looking suspiciously slutty. The final decision was a black wife beater and basketball shorts. He even experimentally smudges his eyeliner to make it look a little slept-in. He carefully uses the remaining time to switch out accessories and pose around his room in an attempt to see “where he looks the hottest.” In the end, his efforts are futile and he doesn’t notice you come in, too busy changing out his earrings.

“Hey.” You tap him on the shoulder, hesitantly, not wanting to scare him. 

“Oh, hey, hi.” He turns around, lips pressed into a smile that looks a little too tight for his face. “So how was your day with, um, Asmo?”

“Nice.” Now that the mimosas had worn off and Asmodeus wasn’t around to keep you confident, the impending conversation was starting to make you nervous. 

“Just nice?” Mammon asked with a tilt of his head. “What can I do to make your day better, babe?” He gently cups your face, becoming acutely aware of the sweat on his palms, and the breakfast on his breath when he kisses you.

You kick yourself for how quickly you break the kiss to murmur against his lips, “I’ve been lying to you. Well, only by omission, but still. Can we talk?”

Your hands hold each other to stay steady. Realistically, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ve blown this whole thing out of proportion, but it’s not like insecurities follow basic logic. 

“Yea, ‘f course.” His hands trail down your sides. 

You don’t notice the sweat, more the warmth as he thumbs over each of your ribs.

“Just talk to me, angel.”

And you hate that it sounds like he’s begging. Like he wants you to dump your baggage on him. Especially, when it should be so easy for you to just get over it on your own.

“I don't think I'm hot enough for you.” It comes out messy and unarticulated.

“What? That’s ins-”

You don’t let him finish, cutting his rebuttal off with the more rehearsed version of what you said. “I mean, whenever I go to see you at your photoshoots, you look so good with those other models. You're surrounded by all these perfect men and women who you'd look great with, so great that it's literally on the cover of a magazine, and I can't compete with that. And it's not like this hasn't happened before. I've never been the first choice, just someone to settle for or a rebound, y’know?”

“Not really.” He scratches the back of his neck, realizing how clammy his hands have become and how uninspiring that answer is. “But, well, that's because I've never felt that way about you. There’s no need to compete with anybody, baby. You're everything to me. I don't even notice other people when you're around or when I'm thinking about you, which is always. And I can't make up for shitty past relationships, but I hope you know I'm better than that.”

“Thank you, and I wanted to apologize. That’s why I’ve been avoiding being physical with you, but that seems kinda dumb now. So, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. And I'm a little insulted that you'd compare me to your past partners. I'm The Great Mammon, not some idiot human boy with no brain. I can't even comprehend why you'd jump to that. I'm appalled, disgusted even, livi-”

You cut him off with a kiss. Smiling into the lines of his lips as he struggles to keep up. 

He breaks the kiss to keep talking. “And I'm not just saying all this ‘cause I wanna have sex with you. Not that I don't want to do that. I just don't want you thinki-”

“Shut the fuck up, Mammon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His hands find your waist again to pull you towards him. 

The way you kiss is slow and natural. A welcome change to the stiff distance you’d previously been putting between your bodies. His hands wander and guide you closer. It takes a moment for you to reciprocate, too distracted by the simple comfort of his touch.

You rest your arms on his shoulders, lazily lifting a hand to play with the fine hairs on the nape of his neck. As your fingers tangle higher up on his head, you tug gently to pull him away. It’s nice just to look into his eyes for a second. The dark blue near the center of his iris almost blends with his blown pupils. You find it impossible to pick a favorite shade of blue when his kaleidoscope gaze stares so intensely back at you. 

“It’s you who’s too pretty for me.” Mammon doesn’t even try to kiss you, just looking at you, flicking his eyes up and down your face. His thumbs barely dip under your shirt and skim the skin of your stomach, memorizing it in the pads of his fingers. 

“Stop it.” You take a small, nearly involuntary, step backward. 

He follows you, pushes you until the back of your knees hits the edge of the bed. 

“No. You gonna let me see all of your pretty self?” He asks. “Take it off.”

Mammon gently stretches the fabric of your shirt away from your body, waiting patiently for you to comply. 

You nod. Your eyes slip shut as you peel the top off, and you don’t bother opening them to see his reaction. You just wait for him to say something, to touch you, or to give you any indication of disgust and rejection.

He holds you gently by the side of your neck, lifting your chin with the pads of his thumbs.

“Can you look at me, sunshine?” 

It takes a moment for you to make eye contact with him. You’re not expecting him to be disgusted or reject you, but that doesn’t stop you from being nervous or unsure. He smiles when you finally meet his eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything right now. It’s your call, always, okay?”

“Okay, but I do want you right now. ‘M just a little nervous.” Your hands need something to do, so they go back to threading through his hair. You thank Jesus that Mammon takes that as a cue to kiss. His hands smooth down to your shoulders, never breaking away from your skin. 

The kiss is too long and too deep, not parting until you’re roughly panting into each other’s mouths. You sit on the bed and Mammon pushes you down onto the mattress, waiting for you to tell him to stop.

“Don't just stare, weirdo.”

He chuckles, and you can feel it on your face.

“Sorry. I just can’t believe you’re real, and really with me.” His admission comes with a blush smeared across his face. It’s hard for him to continue the eye contact after that. Mammon buries his face in the crook of your neck as he laughs again. “You’re just here, and I love you so much.”

Your fingers are less rough in his hair, gentle and soothing. His arms dip behind your back to hug you, keeping your bodies pressed together for a minute or five. Until he’s sure you’re not leaving. When he finally moves, it’s to unhook and remove your bra, but then he’s back to hugging you again. This time, kissing between your breasts, he doesn’t know why you’d ever keep this from him. His hands don't stay in one place for long, wanting to feel every inch of the body that you've been hiding. 

“You know what pisses me off the most?” Mammon lifts his head to look up at you. Saliva coats his mouth, your skin, and connects the two with lust and heat. 

You don't answer, half-scared he's changed his mind. 

“I hate knowing that someone else has seen you like this before me. I wish I was your first everything.” His mouth is smothering yours again like he wants the feeling of his lips to stay there even after you’ve parted. From your mouth, he drags light kisses down your jaw and to your neck. He keeps you so close that, even though he can't see it, he can feel the flush coming off of you. 

“You won't hide from me anymore, right?” His kisses begin at the junction of your shoulder but quickly drop lower, down your chest, tummy, thighs, winding a clear path down your torso.

“Hey.” Mammon stops and the fuzziness dissolves. Your attention easily snaps back to him, where he kneels on the floor, hair sticking out where you’d tugged it out of place. “When I ask you questions, fucking answer me.”

You swallow thickly and nod, unsure of what would come out if you opened your mouth. 

“Words, babe. You won’t hide from me anymore?” Though it’s a statement, he’s still asking. The skin of your thighs is worried between his teeth as he waits for an answer. 

“I wo-” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply when his teeth dig in too hard. He soothes that spot with his tongue, making you moan into the back of your hand. 

“Close enough,” he murmurs.

He inches the hem of your skirt up as his lips climb back up your skin. 

You scoot up the bed when his mouth lands on the crotch of your panties next. He chases you, following and following until your back is pressed against the headboard.

“Quit that.” Mammon yanks your knees apart. His broad shoulders stop your legs from snapping back shut. “Where’re you going?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I mean- don’t you wanna fuck?”

He nods into the crease of your thigh, nosing the lace trim of your panties. “But not yet, treasure. I’ve been missing meals, gonna make up for lost time. Can I taste your pretty pussy, please?”

“Yeah,” and it comes out like a breath. You slip your panties off. Mammon never lets you close your legs, so you have to frustratingly take one leg out at a time. 

He grabs the garment, dangling the blue panties in front of your face.

“Can I keep these?”

You snort. “Pervert.”

“So?”

“Yeah, you can have them.”

Mammon neatly folds the dirty underwear and roughly stuffs them into the pocket of his shorts.

“You’ll get them back when I’m done.” He’s not looking at you when he says that, eyes dropping lower to where your legs are spread as he pushes your skirt up around your waist. You feel warm like it’s too much for him to look at you.

“Gross,” but it comes out weak. You’ve shrunk back into the pillows, barely breathing between your fingers, mouth gone dry.

“Uhuh.” Mammon nods, dragging his nose down the trimmed hair above your slit. The hands on your thighs slide inward, keeping your legs spread and pinned against his pillows. His bottom lip brushes your clit as his mouth drops lower. He completely skips over the nub, licking at the slick pooling beneath it. “You get this wet for everyone?”

You can’t speak, covering your mouth with your palm to bar any sounds from escaping. His head tilts, looking both amused and curious as he waits for an answer.

“No,” you mumble.

“Yeah, well good.” Mammon’s mouth quirks up into a smug grin as he readjusts himself to lay more comfortably on the bed. He lies flat on his stomach, lazily kicking his legs back and forth as he kisses around your clit. He knows exactly where it is, but teases on purpose until he can feel your hips straining beneath his hands. 

Mammon’s palms keep you pressed down so easily that you don’t notice how desperate you are beneath him. Not until he lets you go. The reaction of your body is involuntary, a few rough rolls of your hips before you can keep yourself still. Your groans are stifled by your palm, you can feel the hot breath and saliva collecting behind your hand. 

“Wait?” He sounds disappointed. “Don't stop.” 

Mammon’s hands catch beneath your thighs, sloppily simulating the roll of your hips against his face. The movements of his mouth are less coordinated, too preoccupied with the strain on his forearms. Your juices smear messily on his chin as he works you open, pushing more and more of his tongue into you.

Spit collects in your mouth. You can’t keep from moaning into your palm, and all that sweat and drool runs from the corners of your mouth to collect on your chin. His mouth is warm, and the flick of his tongue deep inside you makes you match the pace he’s already set. 

Mammon grunts against your cunt. You can feel it more than hear it. The sound is low, deep in his chest, and drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. The edge of your orgasm builds with the soft vibrations of his lips. Your hesitant grind is pushed quicker by the need to get off. Every glance down at your spit-covered pussy has you bucking upward with a muffled gasp. 

Mammon is lazy, leaving you to chase your high as he looks up at you, enamored by how you still try so hard to cover the sounds spilling from your mouth. He’d say something about it if his mouth wasn’t so busy. It’s not until you dare to stop staring at him that he speaks up.

“C’mon.” Mammon lands a sloppy kiss on your clit. “What? Now you’re too good to even look at me, pretty girl?” He manages to sound so fucking pathetic and upset that you look back down at him. He grins back at you, pleased with his performance. Small kisses work up from your sopping hole to swollen bud. He flicks his tongue, teasing and testing before fully sucking on it. 

“Shit.” This is the first sound you let through your fingers, followed by a shaky moan as you try to control your breath. You can’t help but pant, stuttering, and heavy between the gaps in your fingers. 

“I know,” Mammon keeps his words short, barely parting from your skin to speak.

Though he tries to hide it, you can’t help but notice how he pushes his hips into the comforter, grinding his dick against the mattress through however many layers of fabric. You almost feel bad for him, but then he moans against you like he’s the one getting head. 

The hand you’d been using to keep yourself muffled reached between your legs to tangle in Mammon’s hair. The palm is still tacky from spit, sticking to make you tug rougher on the strands than you mean to. 

“M-more. Just a little bit more.” The words stumble out of your mouth like you don't know what you’re saying. Whatever will make him push his tongue a little deeper. “Pretty please.”

“Mhmm,” Mammon moans an affirmative into your pussy. He can feel your clit throb against his nose. Each second that passes brings you closer to climaxing. 

You’re stuffed full of his tongue, rubbing your clit on the bump of his nose. He’s barely done anything himself except taking it and whining. The rhythmic rutting of his hips starts working the comforter up the bed, gathering it beneath him to fuck into. He’s not even looking at you straight anymore, eyes focusing or crossing dazedly. 

You tighten your hand in his hair by pure instinct as you writhe beneath him.

“I think I’m gonna-” You’re not given a chance to finish before the twist in your stomach spills over. “O-oh, Mammon. Fuck, I’m-”

The last of your words are drowned out by his own needy moans. His hips hump the comforter bunched beneath him.

“Fuck, I love you.” His tongue licks a long stripe up your cunt.

“I’m still sensitive.” You shudder, and the hand in his hair falls to grip your skirt.

“Gotta clean up my mess,” he mumbles. He laps the saliva and cum from your skin, eventually just leaving wet kisses up the crease of your thigh. 

Mammon’s sweaty and flushed, still grinding into the blankets. His eyes flick shut and he lays his head flat on your lower stomach. His breaths are quick, warming your skin. 

A hand slips from underneath you to overlap yours. He pulls it back to his hair. “Pull it again.”

You want to be gentle, running a hand through the white strands. Mammon doesn’t care for your afterglow tenderness and slaps the side of your leg.

“Please, baby. I wanna cum.” Mammon kisses your stomach, low below your navel.

You can’t help but laugh at him. It’s too pathetic when accompanied by the frantic rolls of his hips. You can feel the skin beneath his head get sticky from the sweat and drool he smears onto you. He looks and sounds more fucked out than you just from using his mouth on you.  His thrusts stutter when you twist cruelly on his hair. 

“Yes, yes, like that.” He lets out a string of swears as he spills into his sweatpants. His labored breathing crests and slows, and you can feel when they finally grow even. “Thank you, treasure.”

Mammon doesn’t move from where he is, still comfortably tucked between your legs as he comes down from his high. It’s not until he’s been suspiciously quiet for too long that you realize he’s asleep.

[mintkookiess]

It's Always Been Her.

A/N before anything else: Hey there I'm Mint! I finally got the guts to actually post something instead of keeping it in my private blog sue me (╯•﹏•╰)

Felt a bit angsty today and I've been practicing more on my writing so, I decided why not post it

Please also note the characters here are aged up, none are minors, and Miles and our dear lovely fem!reader here are old enough to live together (Feel free to think up what age you want esp since there isn't really an age stated her). Plus, this has only been proof-read like twice and ran through grammarly once, hope it turned out okay still with the grammar and typos ಥ‿ಥ

Anyways enough about that, you can go ahead! Hearts and reblogs are appreciated

(Pls be nice ty)

Love,

Mint

P.S. AO3 saw it first here!

Summary: Y/n finds Miles comforting his ex girlfriend Gwen in their home.

Word count: 2.6k

Tags: Miles Morales x Fem!Reader Slight mention of blood (those are paper cuts I promise), angst (no happy ending babe), heartbreak, cutting up onions .°(ಗ д ಗ。)°.

"Y/n...?" Miles looked as if he had just seen a ghost, "How long have you been—" She hadn’t even realized how she stood by the door, crying with her mouth covered, her other hand clutching her aching chest, until he noticed her.

"Miles..." Y/n managed to choke out, her voice barely a whisper as she looked at her supposed lover Miles, comforting Gwen on the floor of their shared home's living room. Her eyes were filled with absolute sorrow, betrayal, hurt, anger, and anguish all rolled into one. She stood there helplessly, feet seemingly glued to the ground even if her brain has been telling her to run.

But she couldn't seem to look away or move a single inch as the tears continued to flow down like a stream down her cheeks that have turned pale from shock. Miles was rendered speechless, he had never seen Y/n like this, and he hadn't seen her cry much either.

"Y/n..." He said with a weak voice, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he slowly unwrapped his arms from Gwen, standing up to take a step towards her. He knew he should come to her, to hug her, comfort her, tell her it's okay but he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. His hands trembled as he looked into her eyes. Y/n could see the fear and regret in them.

"What... What are you doing with her?" She croaked, still in a tone that made her voice sound like the harsh cold wind of winter. Y/n had watched Miles comfort Gwen for the past thirty minutes, and all she could do was see how vulnerable they were to each other, how Miles' comforting voice that felt so much like caramel soothed his ex-girlfriend who had been weeping like a deer in his chest.

It was another sense of betrayal and hurt, a whole new level of pain that Y/n couldn't even begin to explain. No words could describe how... broken she felt.

"She's... She's having.." he started, before pausing, trying to configure the right words to say to her—"She's having a hard time right now." He finally finished, his voice sounding weak. All Y/n did was stare right at him, tears still rolling down her eyes.

Seeing her cry made him want to do anything—to hug her, comfort her, and just say “Everything’s fine. I'm sorry, please stop crying, I love you." Miles didn't know what to do, it seemed as if he couldn't stop her from crying and it broke him.

Y/n started to let out small sobs from her lips that had dried and cracked from letting out so many tears. Her hands crept up to her face, trying to see if she could wake up from this dream that's become her new hell.

She was shaking her head slightly, shoulders sagging more and more as she felt all her patience thin out like paper. "You promised... You told me that you don't talk to her anymore." Y/n said slowly, her words slightly muffled from her hands.

Oh, how she tried so hard to not have her voice crack, even though she could hear her heart break into a million pieces per second.

Upon hearing her words, Miles visibly flinched. He looked down at his feet as if he was suddenly ashamed of himself. His head tilted back up to her, his eyes filled with shame. Miles stood there frozen, a few feet away from her, unable to bring himself to approach or move a single inch.

It was as if he wanted to make it up to her, but he was too scared, too fearful of what would happen. "Y/n..." The way he said her name was like it was a silent prayer, a plea. "I'm... sorry..."

After a few more tears, she removed her hands from her face. Her head hung low, but her eyes looked up at Miles with newly found determination and courage but still with a tinge of fear and hurt.

"You still love her."

Her words itself may have downright punched her heart as she could feel it gets beaten up and shatter, falling to the depths of her very soul. She didn't want to utter what she had been thinking since she saw the way Miles comforted Gwen with so much love that she thought was only reserved for her. Y/n feared that once she said it out loud, it would become real.

But deep down she knew that this had become her reality, whether she said it or not.

Miles felt like he was stabbed at every syllable, how deep her words wounded him. Yet he had to admit that the truth in what she said made them all the more gut-wrenching.

He looked away from her, trying to gather some little courage before facing Y/n once more. Miles' brown eyes bore into hers, two pairs of eyes containing remorse, regret, and betrayal. "Yes..." He finally answered, the weight of his guilt dragging every word down with him.

The second he confirmed her statement, it was as if her vision went black. "Thank you... for your honesty." Was all she could say.

Y/n's feet may weigh a thousand pounds right now, but she forced herself, dragging herself out the door. The only thing that she could think of was that she had to get away.

To run.

To hide.

To go to a place where Miles wouldn't find her.

His simple “ yes “ reply was enough to tell her that she was no longer wanted or needed. She felt herself to be a burden, someone holding back Miles from truly loving Gwen. Even though he had made promises to her, that he'd keep his and Y/n's relationship safe and out of harm.

As she started to walk away, Miles' heart severed apart with each step she took. He had never felt so lost, so scared, as he did right now. He hasn't even spared Gwen a glance behind him as he tried to take another step towards the direction Y/n disappeared to.

She walked away from him and he could only watch. All he wanted was to ask her to stay, to forgive him. He didn't want to lose Y/n, but he was too scared to act, fearing that it would make matters worse than it already was.

If that was even possible.

Y/n turned right towards their shared bedroom, her eyes sticking to the ground because she refused to take in the sight of the many pictures of her and Miles scattered around the walls and tables of the bedroom.

She made a beeline to the closet, pulled out luggage, and just threw in all the clothes she owned, every accessory in their shared drawers, and every perfume that decorated the vanity.

Y/n was slowly removing every trace of her in the bedroom.

Once she was done, she zipped the luggage close, and stomped to their framed pictures, their polaroids that were clipped to the walls, everything that had the both of them in it, and started throwing them across the tiled floor. She didn't let out a single scream, letting the picture frames break to make all the noise for her as she couldn't let out any noise.

Every time it shattered against the polished floor, her heart broke along with it.

Y/n continued to break and rip every picture, tears streaming hot down her cheek, dripping off her chin, and staining the dissipated pictures and smashed frames by her feet.

Miles stood there, his heart in his throat, hearing the sounds of glass smashing and wooden picture frames hitting the floor. He didn't move, though it hurt to hear that, and seeing the pictures being destroyed hurt even more.

He knew he should do something, he knew he should call out to her—but he was too much of a coward. He watched her destroy everything that held memories of their now-broken relationship.

Once everything was laid out on the floor either broken or ripped to shreds, Y/n fell to her knees, her hands covered in deep cuts as it started to bleed out from how hard her grip was while smashing the frames and destroying the pictures.

But she could only stare, her soulless eyes glazing over her two hands that had so much resemblance to her emotional and mental state. All wounded and cut up, bleeding for the whole world to see.

Her fingers shook ever so slightly, her perfectly manicured nails were now tinted a crimson shade from her blood, and all she could do was stare.

She didn't even feel any pain.

Miles finally snapped out of it, letting out a pained gasp as he sees her lacerated hands. He knew he had to do something and so he tried to walk to her, taking each step as if they were as heavy as lead weights. "Y/n... please... stop... you've hurt yourself..." He said as tears made their way down his face once again.

It was as if Y/n didn't hear him even though she did. She refused to respond, picking up the little pieces of the pictures she destroyed and examining them with her bloodied hands.

Every picture she saw, each one was of them that stared back at her with wide smiles. So much life, so much love and passion.

Now look at them. Look at how they ended up.

It was so pathetic that she thought it was laughable. How could their picture-perfect relationship turn into something so hideous, so ugly? Her mind was on constant replay of the way Miles' arms were wrapped around Gwen, whispering sweet nothings to her as she cried uncontrollably against him.

"Why did you do this to us Miles? We were doing so good..." She muttered. Y/n's face no longer held any sadness or... Any emotion. She was just there, kneeling on the floor with her cut-up hands and body staying still like she became a doll devoid of feelings.

"Y/n—" He started, his voice quiet and unsure. Miles continued to inch closer and closer to her, though it was clear he did so with caution. "I know that right now it may be hard for you to believe me, but... I'm sorry... I didn't mean for things to go this far I swear..." Miles whispered with quivering lips. He was trying so hard to remain composed, but he could feel his emotions overflow and take over his entire body.

He continued towards her until he was inches in front of Y/n, his heart practically beating out of his chest and with hands that were mad trembling.

"Y/n... Please don't leave me..." His voice convulsed in guilt. Miles knelt to be at her eye level, to beg for her forgiveness. He didn't care that the frame shards were probing his knees. He eyed her injured hands, reaching his hands toward her as if he was trying to stop her from leaving him forever.

But he could sense it. They both could. It was the end for the two of them.

Y/n was too tired, too exhausted to push his hands away. She remained in her spot as she felt walls around herself build-up, her soul fading further away from reality, causing her to be numb. Her eyes drifted to the hands that belonged to him, she couldn't help but remember how these same hands were the place she called her safe space for so many years.

Now, she thinks of it as the hands that had ruined her ruined them.

She sees the hands that had comforted someone who wasn't her, another girl who wasn't even supposed to be in their lives anymore. "Go to her Miles..." She whispered weakly, still refusing to look at him.

Miles' breath hitched, and his face paled at the words that came out of her mouth. "Y/n... no..." he tried to say something, to make her stay, anything. There were so many words on his tongue that he wished to utter out, but he didn't have the courage or strength to say a single one.

He wanted to say how much he loved her, but he knew that Y/n was drifting further away from him with each passing second.

So Miles did the only thing he could and stared at her, with a face frozen with shame and fear.

His words slowly snapped her out of her trance, like a spell that seemed to have awoken her back to reality.

She slowly pushed herself up, wiping down her hands on her skirt to remove the remaining blood that hadn't dried out. Her e/c eyes finally looked down at Miles, kneeling before her.

Y/n felt her blood boil at how pathetic he looked. She wondered how he could look in such a way when he was the one at fault, who practically shredded their relationship into pieces the moment he let Gwen inside their home.

"Go to her Miles," She repeated with a more stern voice. Her breathing started to become heavier with all the anger inside of her threatening to spill over. "That's what you wanted anyway right?" Y/n said a bit louder now. "It's her! It's always been fucking her right?!" She was yelling, each word leaving a strain on her throat and a bad taste on her tongue.

Her hands balled into fists, feeling the sting of her nails digging into her new cuts and wounds but she didn't give two shits about it right now.

The fire in her eyes scared Miles. He started to hyperventilate, his chest tightening and feeling his lungs scream in search of air. Her voice was laced with so much malice and hatred that it scared him. “Y/n, please... I—" His words were getting tangled, and they were sounding more and more like a mess.

"It's always been her. No matter how many fucking times I tried to be perfect for you, to be the best woman for you. It was never fucking enough because I WASN'T HER!" Y/n cried out, her hand clutching her chest so hard that she thought she would dig into her skin and her heart would bleed out.

She was heaving alongside him, their chests rising up and down in sync. Her every word tasted sour to her like each syllable was a dart of poison that was stabbing her insides and gutting her out. Miles flinched as her words pierced through him.

It was his fault, and he knew it. It hurt him to see the person he had come to love, hate him. He knew he deserved the anger, the hate, and he just felt himself hit rock bottom.

How could he do that to her?

To destroy her trust?

Gwen had wanted to talk to him about something and started telling him about her problems. He wanted to be there for her, but not realizing that he was jeopardizing his relationship with Y/n until it was too late. Some of his heart still belonged to Gwen, but god did he wish it didn't.

"Well, you should be fine now though, right? You can go back to her because I'm leaving." Y/n said with a newfound calm tone. She walked past him to grab her luggage, wincing in pain from her wounds as she pulled them out of their bedroom, leaving Miles in the heap of ripped-up pictures and broken frames.

She also walked past Gwen who was sitting silently in the living room.

She tried to approach Y/n, but the wounded girl was quick to walk out the door, slamming it behind her as she disappeared into the night, leaving the place she'd called theirs for the last five years.

But now, it wasn't her home anymore.

Fin.

See more of my Miles content here babes!

(if yall wanna be on my taglist feel free to let me know!)

[thatbitchery]

BTW I tell y'all I have severe ADHD once every ten seconds because i want you to know I'm a low performer. I procrastinate on important matters for months and sometimes, most times really, it costs me opportunities and relationships and peace of mind because I'll know I'm supposed to do X but have no willpower whatever to do X. I want you ladies to know that's sometimes I hyperfixate on things with no importance whatsoever and that takes away my energy from things that are important. Hell, just last week I spent 8 hours on my laptop reading on bears and watching beat videos when I had work to do. That I have time blindness and sometimes am extremely late or extremely early or just get days mixed up and do Thursday things on Wednesday because I thought it's Thursday or forget it's Friday and not do Friday things and it costs me, dearly. Expensively. That I am inconsistent as they come and even a machine gun to my head can't get me to do something that my brain rejects. That sometimes I cry for hours because I feel pathetic and sad and too small with dreams too big. That somedays I wake up with the energy of a thousand Suns and start 58868 projects, create a brand new goals list for things I'll do in my life and go strong for three days then just- dump it after the energy falls. Then hate the hell out of myself because what the hell. That everytime I want to pick a new hobby or buy something or make a decision I hesitate because , do I really want this or is it dopamine and I'll dump it after 6 working days, because I have too many WIPs that Im yet to complete but can't bring myself to. That I need 168979 watches with alarms and a digital to do list and a manual to do list and sometimes I'll still get nothing done. That I try, so hard, and sometimes, just can't. And everyone that's supposed to help has the same recycled tips that just will not work for me. That I had medication for a while that worked but my body got used to it and overpowered it, so now even the option for medication is out of the picture - so I have to live like this for the rest of my life. That sometimes I run purely on ego because my self esteem is on the floor. That everytime I get a new opportunity I panic a little because what if I give up midpoint and ruin my reputation?? What if? That I self isolate because when I have too much energy I can't sit still and I interrupt everyone and need to run or I'll combust. That I self isolate because I have low social awareness and could easily say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Because I'm not normal and that feels shameful sometimes. That even CBT hasn't been able to set me straight, but I worked so hard to make money for therapy and medication and it's not working so I've also lost my will to work because what is it even for?????

I could Grammarly and AI my posts and have them professional looking but I want the ADHD girls with a brain faster than their hands to know it's okay to leave some words out because your brain is 6 words ahead of your hand and you're trying to keep up. I want the dyslexia girlies to know you can still write even when you're not sure if that thing makes sense, the people that mind do not matter and the people that matter do not mind. Because I want the 'english is not my first language' girls like me that struggle with adverbs and nouns and tenses and spelling to know hey it's okay, just write. You want to write, write. Do it for you. Forget the rest. I could polish all my posts, I do it for my work and official documents but if I do what will the girlies that need to know they're not stupid, English is just a language and spellings don't matter that much and you can communicate outside perfection see to reinforce their desire?? What will the autistics that want to try blogging but feel scared because they can't arrange their thoughts in a comprehensive manner and get lost in side stories sometimes look at and go oh my god- we exist and it's okay because we can still influence.

I tell you ladies every three seconds that I am a dark skinned black 5'4 slim immigrant in a white supremacist country because I want the girls that fit neither the beauty standards or the stereotypical standards to know they can chase their dreams and it doesn't matter. So the girlies of color that watch news and movies and social media and see people that look like them being murdered and disrespected and read the comments to know yeah, you can still do it, get on that plane. If I don't what will the girls that know for a fact that was unfair treatment look at when they need to know they can still rise above and make it??? If I dont tell you that actually I'm not where I am because I'm the hardest working in the room- I'm actually hella lazy- I'm where I am because I manipulate cheat claw gaslight blackmail my way how will the girls that work hard and still not achieve know that it's not because them it's because the world is unfair and you win by being unfair. I could play good girl , I could, I could tell you just work hard and go for it but then what will the girls that did all that and still failed look at to make sense of the world around them? Justify how things got here when they did everything they were supposed to? I say be a bitch so the girls that are demonized for not taking it lying down can be bitchier. I say learn the patriarchy and fit the beauty standards as much as you can and cosplay what's likeable not to conform but to cosplay and manipulate so that the girls that know it's wrong realize that you should just play them the way they play you - that's real feminism. That's real equality, learning the game to learn how to cheat and win because you were born to lose, the rules aren't made with you in mind so why would you stick to them, and fighting them is futile, you'll lose. I say being feared >> than being loved for the girls that got manipulated used trashed in the name of love. I tell you people are animals that survive by low balling each other so you can make a little sense of your trauma and forgive yourself for what you had to become to survive.

This blog is for the outsiders, actually. The girls that do not see content made that make sense for them, the girls that are born into a world that has no space for them and couldn't fit in if they tried because it's impossible. I'm here as proof you can make it. Autistic dyslexic ADHD black female , ticking all the wrong boxes and still making it. That's why I'm here, to show you how. To show you, you can. It's okay, you're okay. In fact, you're- better.

[littleseasiren]

Alpine

Summary: Your long-time crush Bucky has a secret, a tiny white kitten. She's the cause of some interesting situations between you and the handsome super soldier. When Bucky's secret gets out, will it bring you closer together or break you apart?

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mainly fluff, mention of animal cruelty, threats of revenge on the abuser, Tony being an idiot until the reader makes him see sense.

Words: ~ 5800

A/N: Grammarly is my beta reader, so any mistakes are my own. Comments and reblogs will be appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag list. Thanks for reading!

"Bucky!" Your voice echoes in the empty hallway. 

The super soldier looks like he is going to ignore your call but halts after a few seconds. He turns around, eyes wide open in innocence.

"I didn't do anything..." he mumbles softly. "I gotta go."

He turns around once again and starts walking to his room, his steps rushed.

"Wait!" You run in front of him. When he doesn't stop, you walk backwards, keeping him in your sight. "Where were you? We were supposed to have lunch together?"

"Crap," he sighs. "I'm so sorry doll. I got held up and forgot."

"It's ok. I saved you a plate. Why don't you come with me then you can eat it?"

"I, uh... can't." 

"Why? What's wrong?"

His eyes don't meet yours. "I just don't feel well. I gotta go." 

He sidesteps you when a strange sound comes from his zipped-up hoodie.

"Bucky, what was that?" You run after him, his strange behaviour making you suspicious.

"It's nothing." When he sees you don't believe him he rubs his forehead in apprehension. "Uh, it was my stomach."

"Bucky, for a spy, you suck at lying to me." 

When another sound is made, you realize it kind of sounds like a meow. When your eyes widen in shock, he firmly pulls you into his room and locks the door.

"Please, don't tell anyone." His eyes beg you, the blue seeming to hypnotize you until he carefully zips down his hoodie and pulls out an ivory-white ball of fluff, and holds it in his hands. The ball of fluff meows and turns to look at you. You gasp when bright blue eyes meet yours, the kitten seeming tiny in Bucky's large hands.

"I know we're not allowed to have pets. Trust me, I didn't plan on getting one. She just happened."

"She? It's a girl? Are you sure?" You move closer to him, reaching out slowly and rubbing the little cat's head and ears, making her purr softly.

"Yeah, I had to take her to a vet. He confirmed it." Bucky shifts his hold and that's when you see it. A small pink cast is on the kitten's back leg, along with a bandage on her small tummy. You can't stop gasping. Something bad had to happen to the little girl.

"What happened to her?" You ask Bucky as you both move to sit on his couch. From his hoodie, he pulls out a small bag and puts it on the table next to him.

"Humans happened to her. I was on my jog when I saw this car speed into an alley. He threw a box into the dumpster and just sped off. At first, I just thought he was a prick that needed to throw away some trash. But then I heard a faint noise. The closer I got to the dumpster the more I could hear. The box he had thrown away? It had her in it, all bleeding and crying for help. I couldn't just leave her there. So I took her to the vet to be patched up. Thought maybe they would be able to look after her, but since it's the holidays, they are full. So I had to bring her home." 

You can't help but tear up at the thought of what the little kitten had gone through. "People like that should never be able to have pets, ever. They should cut something off too, just to remind him what he's done."

Bucky chuckles next to you but his eyes are dark with anger. "If I get my hands on him, he'll be lucky to make it out with his life. People that abuse animals belong in the ninth circle of hell."

"That's for sure." When she cries out loudly, you both startle. "She must be hungry. Did the vet say what to feed her?"

"Yeah, he said I have to give her this formula for now." He picks up the bag and shows it to you. "He says she's almost 4 weeks old, but since she's a bit malnourished, I need to feed her a little bit every 3 hours. I need to gradually begin to increase the time between feedings before I start introducing wet foods too."

When she cries again you both chuckle at how cute she is. "Guess it's feeding time," he smirks at you as he stands up and walks to his small kitchenette. "Do you want to hold her?"

You almost squeal in delight, your smile lighting up the room. "Yes, please!"

Bucky decides to call the kitten Alpine, due to her snowy colour. You completely agree with him, the name fitting her like a glove.

The two of you work together to feed Alpine before you offer to go out and buy toys and kitty litter for her, secretly hiding it beneath bags of clothes.

When you come back, the two of you set up her supplies and settle in for a long evening of watching movies and feeding the cutest cat in the world.

You wake up to warmth beneath you and a small pressure on your lower back. 

You moan softly, feeling safe and peaceful when a gentle touch runs down your side. Your eyes blink open in surprise and find blue eyes smiling up at you.

"Bucky, I-" you move to get off the big supersoldier but he stops you by grasping your shoulders gently.

"Easy doll, Alpine's going to fly off you if you get up. She's laying on your back."

"Oh," your eyes widen at the situation you find yourself in. You're laying on your stomach, your head on Bucky's shoulder as he lays beneath you. Your stomach to his chest, legs intertwined with a sleeping kitten on the small of your back. 

You've never been this close to Bucky before, seeing for the first time the sprinkle of tiny freckles on his face, his full lips and perfect white teeth open in a smile. Why is he smiling?

Your cheeks burn in humiliation as you realise you've been staring at him and he's noticed.

Before you can apologise, he's talking, voice a little hoarse. "I'll lift Alpine then you can climb off. Just give me a second. I'll try not to wake her..."

"Ok," you whisper, eyes unable to meet him. When his arms creep up your sides, you have to hold in a moan that threatens to burst out of you at his touch. The man you had a crush on for months was touching you, but not in the way you wanted him to.

You pretty much hold your breath when his biceps sandwich you on both sides as he gently scoops up the sleeping kitten in his hands then holds them high in the air as you wiggle out from above him.

When he whimpers you look up at him but his eyes are the epitome of innocence so you must have imagined it. There was no way he liked you too, you weren't so lucky.

His muscles ripple beneath his shirt as he slowly stands up and walks to the new cat bed you had bought earlier, softly laying Alpine down as she continues sleeping.

When Bucky straightens and your eyes meet, you can't help but smile at how gentle he is. A lot of people think he's a miscreant, a bad man born from years of fighting, but he is the sweetest, kindest man that you have ever met. And Bucky holding a small kitten in his hands, so gently like she was made of glass? It just made you love him more. 

The heavy look between the two of you is broken when someone knocks on his door. 

"Bucky? It's me," Steve's voice calls out from the door. You freeze, not knowing what to do. You quickly duck down next to the sleeping Alpine, hidden from view by the couch.

You hear Bucky walk to the door and crack it open slightly. 

"Hey, what's up?" Bucky asks casually, making you smile at his words. He's definitely picked up some slang since he joined the Avengers.

"Hi, Buck. Is Y/N here with you?"

"Uh, no she's not here. Why would she be?"

"Well Buck, unless you started wearing her perfume then I'm guessing she's here." You can hear the smirk in Steve's voice.

You take a deep breath and rise from your position behind the couch. "Hi Steve," you say with a small wave.

"She was...uh...helping me with something," Bucky says to Steve, arms crossed in discomfort.

"I bet she was." Steve's grinning like an idiot, his eyes twinkling with laughter. 

"Tony needs your help on a project," Steve says to you as he looks around the room once again. "Are we going on our run?" He asks a brooding Bucky.

When it seems like Bucky is going to object, he quickly continues, "We'll be quick Buck. Thirty minutes tops."

Bucky sighs but relents. "Fine. Give me ten minutes then I'll meet you downstairs."

Steve winks at you as he exits, gleaming.

Finally, you and Bucky are alone again, neither of you knowing what to say.

The silence is broken by a small cry, Alpine letting the two of you know it is feeding time.

"You go doll. I'll quickly feed her then meet Steve and come back as soon as possible. Hopefully, she'll sleep while we're away." He smiles at you, his blue eyes twinkling with some emotion that you can't place.

"Ok, I'll try and be quick too, but with Tony, you never know. See you soon," you add as you exit the room.

A little more than half an hour later, you're back in Bucky's room, calling out softly but no one answers. Thinking he's not back yet, you enter his bedroom in search of Alpine.

She's on his large bed, napping peacefully when the bathroom door opens and Bucky walks out in what appears to be the tiniest towel that he owns.  

"Oh, hey doll. Didn't know you were back yet. I just forgot to grab my clothes."

"Uh-huh." You nod automatically, eyes focused on the beautiful man in front of you. His sculpted chest is the first thing you see, his muscles so much bigger up close. In the corner of your eye, you notice his scarred shoulder where it meets his metal arm, but you gaze away quickly, knowing it makes him uncomfortable when people stare at it.

Your eyes focus on a bead of water in the centre of his chest, slowly rolling down his sternum and between his well-defined abs, the ridges causing the drop to roll slower and slower until it reaches the edge of the towel he's holding in a clenched fist.

When he clears his throat, you snap out of the trance his amazing body seduced you into. Cheeks on fire, you glance up at him, seeing a confused smile on his face. 

"You alright doll?" His voice is rough, husky even. 

You bring an unsteady hand to your beating heart, hoping he won't hear how hard it's pounding. Eyes wide, you stare at him. How long had you been ogling him? Before your treacherous eyes could dip down again, you take a small step back.

"Me? Oh, fine." Your hands clench together as you do your best to concentrate on your words. "The, uh, cat... Yeah, I need to feed..." Crap, your eyes move down on their own, this time noticing just how large his right arm is, the muscles bulging as he holds onto his small towel.

"You need to feed... the cat?" He's smirking now, his blue eyes shining in the morning sun.

Focus! "Uh huh," you mumble before turning around and starting to walk out of the room. It takes you a second to realise you forgot one crucial element to your plan as you spin around again and pick up Alpine before shutting the bedroom door behind you. 

You catch your breath as you lean against the door, Alpine reaching up with her small paws and rubbing her head against your chest in comfort. "Oh, Alpine. My mind went completely haywire in there."

The second you said the words, anxiety fills you once again as you pray that Bucky didn't hear you speaking to Alpine. Having a super soldier as a friend was sometimes very tricky...

When the bedroom door opens, you're busy playing with Alpine, making her run after a feather tied to a string. You feel his eyes on you but you do your best to avoid looking at him. He watches the two of you for a moment before his voice fills the room, his body moving towards the door. 

"Um, I'll go get us some food. You must be hungry?"

"Thanks, Bucky. That will be nice." You look up at him and give him a quick smile before moving your attention back to Alpine.

"Ok, I'll be right back, you two." He says as he opens the door then stops instantly, seeing Steve standing outside.

"Uh, hey Stevie. I'm gonna go get some food, you want to join?" He mumbles quickly, trying to distract Steve from what he had said earlier. 

"You two?" Steve's eyes are wide open, a look of astonishment on his face. "Please tell me you don't have two women in there?" Before Bucky can say anything he continues. "You've always been kinky, but two at the same time? Maybe you should see-"

"Steve!" Bucky shouts, breaking Steve's tirade. You watch the exchange, too stunned to do anything. Steve is instantly silent until a loud meow comes from in front of you. 

Bucky sighs as Steve pushes through the door and drops down next to you. "Why is there a cat in here?" He whispers to you.

"Bucky rescued her. The ass that had her decided he didn't want a cat anymore and threw her out like trash. Bucky saved her and brought her here." You inform him as he sits cross-legged on the floor. 

"I know we're not supposed to have pets, but I couldn't just leave her. And the shelters are all full." Bucky joins the two of you on the floor and smiles as Alpine rubs her head on his knee before moving to Steve slowly.

The kitten looks up at him before slowly moving closer as Steve extends his hand, giving her a chance to sniff him before she rubs her side on his stretched fingers.

"Hi sweetheart," Steve says as Alpine climbs into his lap slowly, the cast on her leg making her slow. "She was injured then?"

"Yeah, I took her to the vet before I bought her here. I swear if I ever see that-" Bucky clenches his jaw so hard, you're afraid he'll break something. You reach out and hold his hand, showing him you understand. "I'll throw him out like the trash he truly is. Except he won't be alive when I do." He huffs out.

"You've always had a soft spot for animals, glad that hasn't changed Buck." He scratches Alpine's head before he starts giggling. "So, technically, I was right. You do have two women in your room. One's just a feline."

"Yeah, we all know what you were thinking Steve. So much for Captain America being a gentleman." 

"Haha, I am a gentleman. I just never said I was innocent. And neither is he. I know him, he's still kinky. There was this one time one of his dates asked him to-" 

"Steve!" Bucky whisper-shouts. Steve just winks at you in reply. Just what did she ask Bucky, you ponder.

Bucky blushes when his eyes meet yours for a second.

"Why don't you leave me with the cat and you two go grab some food? The others are becoming suspicious of your absence." Steve says as he strokes Alpine softly.

You and Bucky glance at each other and nod in agreement.

"Her name is Alpine," Bucky says on the way out. "She's been fed, so just keep her company. Thanks, Steve."

"And please don't tell anyone about her, she's our little secret," you add on the way out.

Bucky's making his way to the kitchen when you pull him to the side. If your hand stayed on his arm a few seconds too long, you chose to ignore it.

"Um, maybe I should go in first, then you follow in a few minutes? Or do you go in first? If they see us entering together..." your voice trails off, the implication of your words clear to him as his eyes widen and his breath catches.

"Uh, yeah sure. You don't want to give them the wrong impression." His jaw clenches for a second, eyes turned down before he continues. "Maybe I'll check if Sam is still in his room first." He turns around and starts walking in the opposite direction, his sudden departure astounding you. Just what was his issue now?

He and Sam enter the kitchen a few minutes later, his gaze fixed on the plate of food he fills. 

"So Bucky, haven't seen you around today," Natasha says in a sultry voice. You know she's with Steve, but you can't help your hackles rising at her tone. Were you jealous?

He glances at the two of you swiftly before focusing on his food again. "Yeah, I've been busy."

"Very interesting... Y/N's also been busy today."

"Well Nat," your voice is full of irritation, "we are Avengers. So we should all be pretty busy, don't you think?"

The beautiful redhead just looks at you before bursting out laughing. After a few seconds, you can't help but join her. 

Sam and Bucky just look at the two of you in confusion.

"That was good honey," Nat says between giggles as you continue eating. 

By the time lunch is done, Bruce and Tony had made an appearance too. 

You were just grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge when Bucky approached you,  the others having left earlier.

"Doll, I gotta ask," Bucky says as he bites his lower lip, "Before when you said I make your brain go haywire... did you mean that in a good way or in a bad way? I know I can be a lot to handle sometimes..."

You suck in a deep breath, your heart racing. So he did hear you earlier. You start to deny it when you see the look in his eyes. Did he really think you could ever think anything bad of him? 

"Oh, um. I had hoped you wouldn't hear that." He's standing close so you have to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes. "But I meant it in a good way." When he doesn't seem to believe you, you continue. "Bucky, you were standing in front of me with just a tiny towel on, of course, I meant it in a good way. You know you're attractive..."

Blue eyes light up as he smirks at you. "So you think I'm attractive huh? So when can I see you in just a tiny towel? To even the odds?"

"Keep dreaming big guy," you reply as you gently punch him on the shoulder.

The two of you giggle together before Bucky looks at you with adoration in his eyes.

"Maybe I will..." 

When you don't answer he clears his throat softly.

"Um... hypothetically, if I stopped being a wuss," he swallows hard, "and I asked you out on a date, what would your answer be?"

Some part of you wants to tease him and make him suffer, but you don't. "Hypothetically, if you asked, I would say yes. Definitely yes."

"Yeah?" His smile is huge, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

Sam appears in front of the two of you, trying to reach for the fridge.

"Sam, not now!" Bucky groans at the man, lightly pushing him away.

"But I want a cupcake!" Brown eyes cry out.

"You just had lunch! You'll get indigestion! Now buzz off!" Bucky forces him to turn around and pushes him forward, making Sam huff in frustration.

When Bucky looks at you expectantly, you simply nod in answer. "Yeah, Bucky. But you still have to ask me," you tease him.

"You little minx! Fine." He takes a deep breath, "Will you go on a date with me? Tonight if you're free?"

"Of course Bucky." Your smile drops, making Bucky anxious. "But who's going to look after Alpine? Can we ask Steve?"

"Yeah, he and Natasha can look after Alpine." 

You stare at Bucky, trying to understand him. "Nat and Steve?" You inquire.

Bucky snorts in reply. "There's no way that punk hasn't already told his lady about Alpine. The fact that he's dating a spy hasn't helped him be able to keep secrets. Not from Natasha."

"Are you sure of that? I think we should give Steve the benefit of the doubt. I'm sure he can keep Alpine secret for a while..."

"You wanna bet doll? $100 says she already knows."

"Sure, but let's make it interesting. Let's see," you tap your index finger on your chin, "if I win, you have to... take me shopping."

Bucky groans in defeat. You know he hates going shopping. "And if I win? What do I get?"

You eye him up and down, "What do you want?"

The corner of his lip lifts in a half smile. "You really shouldn't be asking me that."

"Keep it PG, Bucky!" You say as you tap his shoulder. 

"Fine," Bucky lifts his hands in defeat. "If I win, you have to kiss me."

"Deal!" You're way too fast in your answer, making Bucky laugh. "Come on, let's see who wins!" You hook your hand into his elbow as the two of you make your way to his room.

Steve's guilty look is the first thing you see when you enter the room. Natasha is lying on her stomach next to him, running her finger on the floor, laughing as Alpine chases after it.

"Steve! How could you?" You cry out in mocking anger. "I defended you, yet you caved so easily?" 

"Sorry! I tried but she saw right through me!" 

"See doll? I've known him forever, he's a weakling!"

"Hey!" 

"Well, it's true isn't it Steve? You lasted like, what, two minutes?"

"Five," Natasha giggles next to him. "Good thing I like that he can't keep secrets from me."

Bucky's eyes are beaming with the promise of your kiss. "So, when do I get my reward?"

You grab his shirt and pull him down to you, clasping your hands around his neck. You lean in closer, your breath mixing with his, before you lean to the side and kiss him on his cheek. 

You're giggling as you pull back, a look of astonishment on his face. "Hey, that's cheating!"

"Sorry Bucky, you never specified where the kiss had to be." You giggle as you join Nat on the floor. Your gaze fixed on Alpine stumbling around.

Bucky is smiling as he joins the small group on the floor. Alpine's movements become slower and slower before she admits defeat and climbs into Bucky's lap. A tiny white ball of fluff on Bucky's thick thighs.

"Guess it's time for a nap," Steve says as he helps Natasha up from the floor. 

You know you're in trouble when Natasha's green eyes meet yours. "I think it's time we had a chat."

Bucky picks Alpine up slowly, making sure not to wake her as you, Natasha and Steve depart.

"So, what's going on with you and Bucky?" Natasha asks as soon as you are far enough away to prevent Bucky from hearing. Steve had left to get lunch.

"He asked me out on a date," your stare ahead, a big smile on your face.

"Finally! You two have been pining for each other for months! And the kiss on the cheek?"

"That was a bet. He believed Steve had already told you and I thought he would keep Alpine secret a little longer. So he won and I owed him a kiss."

"Uh-huh. Anything else happened with him? I picked up some tension between the two of you at lunch."

"Um, I might have fallen asleep with him last night. When I woke up I was lying on top of him with Alpine sleeping on my back. We had to wiggle to get up without waking her." You bite your lower lip, "Then this morning I was looking for Alpine when I kinda walked in on him getting out of the shower in a tiny towel. I swear Nat, seeing those muscles up close almost made me pass out!"

"Seems like Alpine is the perfect matchmaker! She's getting the two of you into great situations!"

Natasha is bubbling with laughter as the two of you make your way to the training room. You are eager to work off some nerves before your date.

 "Ok Alpine, what about if I take her to a fancy restaurant for dinner?" You hear Bucky's voice softly through the door, a small meow being the only answer. 

"Yeah, you're right. It's a bit normal for a first date right? I don't want her to think I'm boring." It's quiet for a second then you hear his voice again. 

"A movie?" Another meow, softer this time. 

"Nope, she won't be able to sit still unless it's a very interesting movie. So what then?" 

"I know, I'll -" 

You knock on his door, not wanting to hear what he has planned and spoil all his fun.

You hear him say something on his way to the door, and Alpine seems to agree enthusiastically if her loud purr is an answer.

When Bucky lets you in and closes the door, you see Alpine sitting on his shoulder, nails holding onto Bucky's shirt for stability.

"Hey, doll. Watch this!" He's beaming as he takes a seat on the couch and removes Alpine from his shoulder. He puts her on the couch and wiggles his left hand. She drops down into a crouch then runs up his metal arm, her back leg struggling along, nails fitting into the grooves of his metal arm perfectly until she's back on his shoulder again, a loud purr coming from her tiny body. "Pretty soon she's going to be able to do all kinds of things. There's no stopping this lady!"

When Alpine's gaze falls on you, she meows and rubs her head against Bucky's neck then stares at you again.

Getting the picture, you move closer to the two of them and bend down to rub her adorable head. Her tail is curled around Bucky's neck as she leans forward into your touch, purring loudly in happiness. 

Bucky pulls you softly forward, making you sit on his knee, his arm around the back of your waist holding you close. His smile is enchanting, a similar grin forming on your face. When he leans down closer, your breath catches. This is what you've been waiting for, a kiss from Bucky Barnes will certainly kill you with pleasure. You've barely begun to feel his lips on yours when his bedroom door shoots open, Steve's imposing figure standing in the doorway.

"We got a problem, Buck." He hastily says as he closes the door and moves closer to the three of you. You climb off Bucky's lap and sit down next to him, watching as Steve approaches.

"Wanda and Vision just came back from their mission. Wanda has a concussion so her powers are a bit wonky. Natasha and I were busy whispering about how to help you keep Alpine a secret. Wanda heard our thoughts and got so excited that you have a cat that she repeated it out loud and... Tony heard. He's on his way here now and he doesn't look very happy."

You gasp in surprise and turn to see Bucky running his hands over his face, knowing what is to come.

"Maybe we can hide her?" You begin to say but are interrupted by the knocking on the door. 

"He won't believe it," Steve sighs in defeat.

"You two just stay out of it, ok? I can take whatever he throws at me. He hates me already anyways." Bucky stands and walks to the door. Alpine held onto his shirt, cuddled up into his neck. 

Tony looks Bucky over, eyes hardening in anger. "Barnes, I give you food and shelter, pay you for going on missions, I take care of you even though I can't stand to see you some days. And all I asked for were a few rules to be followed. One of those rules was no pets. Am I correct in my assumption that that is a cat on your shoulder?" 

Wanda, Natasha and Sam creep into the hallway, watching the scene unfold.

"Yes, Tony. I'm sorry. I found her and the shelters are full for Christmas. I didn't have anywhere for her to go."

"Well, either the cat goes now or you both go. Your choice." Tony doesn't even blink when he gives his ultimatum.

Bucky's brows drop in concern, eyes wide open. "You can't be serious Tony. Give me some time-"

"I don't care Barnes. The cat goes right now."

"Tony you can't!" You shout from the doorway, Steve behind you.

"I can do whatever I want. This is my Tower in case you've forgotten that. I'm willing to overlook your involvement in this but don't make me regret it. Any of you." He says as he faces the others.

"It's ok doll," Bucky says softly as his fingers rub your hand for a second. When he faces Tony again his jaw is clenched with anger. "I'm not going to abandon her too. Alpine and I will be out in 10 minutes."

Bucky walks into the bedroom, his meaning taking a few seconds to sink in before everyone pushes into the room, talking a huffing Tony with them.

"Bucky no," Steve calls out as Bucky grabs a bag in his room, starting to fill it with a change of clothes.

You face Tony, your anger making you shake with adrenaline. "I thought you were better than this Tony. Bucky found Alpine being thrown away like trash, her leg broken, ravenous with hunger. She's barely a month old. Now you're going to punish him for doing the right thing? For following his heart and taking care of a helpless animal? You are an asshole if you punish him for that. You're just letting your anger towards Bucky cloud your judgement. If Bucky and Alpine have to go then so will I."

"Doll don't-" Bucky starts but you interrupt him.

"No Bucky, I don't want to work for someone who hates innocent animals and would prefer to keep them on the streets. I refuse to work for anyone like that. I'm just disappointed that the mighty Tony Stark is like that." You glare at Tony, brown eyes meeting yours for just a second.

"Don't leave without me Bucky. I'll be back in five minutes." You start to walk out of the room but Tony stops you. 

He stares down at you for a moment before he sighs in defeat. "Her leg's really broken?" 

"Yes, it's really broken. Bucky saw a man stop in the alley and throw the box in the trash, luckily he heard her cries and rescued her. He took her to the vet and the vet fixed her up. She's a tiny kitten, Tony. If it was you who found her, would you have just left her there?"

He doesn't answer you as he turns to Bucky's bedroom. "Let me see her."

Bucky gently wraps his large hands around her tiny body, being careful of her cast before he softly puts her in Tony's outstretched hands. He watches Tony like a hawk, analysing his every move to make sure he doesn't hurt his baby kitten.

Tony brings her closer to his chest, his right hand stroking her head softly as sky-blue eyes gaze at him in appreciation. "I don't hate animals. I just can't have everyone running around with their pets. This is a dangerous place, and we can't have dozens of animals staying here. If I allow one person to have a pet, the others would want them too."

"Maybe Alpine can be the Team's cat? She already has a bond with Bucky but animals have so much love, they give it to anyone who loves them in return." You grasp Bucky's hand and give it a squeeze. "Besides, a cat has a mischievous side too, the more people who engage with her, the more fun she'd have. It'll help her stay out of trouble."

"You'd be willing to share her?" Tony asks Bucky hesitantly. 

"Of course, I hate having her cooped up in my bedroom, the more she can explore, the better. Besides, this cutie needs all the love she can get. Together we can show her that not all humans are bad."

"Fine, Barnes and Alpine can stay." Tony relents, making the others cheer in response. "But I'm cuddling with her in the living room first!" Tony calls out as he walks out of the room, mumbling to Alpine that he will buy her the best of everything, including a big climbing set as soon as her leg gets better. The rest of the team follows Tony, each adding to the list of what has to be bought for the best kitten in the world.

"So Bucky, you get to stay, after all." 

"Thanks to you, doll. What you said was amazing, I've never seen someone rip into Tony so easily." Unsure blue eyes meet yours. "Would you have left with me? If he hadn't changed his mind?"

"Yeah Bucky. I would have. What I said was the truth. I'd go anywhere with you." 

"You're so sure I'm worth it? That I'm good?"

"Bucky, you saved a helpless kitten. You did it because you cared, not because you wanted praise or attention. Hell, you tried to keep it a secret! Anyone who cares so much about animals that they are willing to walk out on what they know just to keep them safe can't be bad. It's impossible. You're the best Bucky. And now that Alpine has a whole family to look after her, I think it's the perfect time to go on that date you owe me."

"Of course, doll. Anything you want."

"Anything?" You smirk at him, wickedness in your eyes.

"Anything," he replies as he drops his head down, hands wrapping around your waist. Your arms circle his neck as you stand on your toes to meet him, kissing him like you've wanted to for months. And he's all too happy to reciprocate.

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[ecstasyhighway]

You & I | e. williams

chapter ii

CW: abby cheats on reader 😓 uhhhh there is no smut in this its really just a look into their lives kinda. Drinking and literally one mention of ellie being high. reader has her own friends who ive just given random ahh names and the owner of the music store ellie works at is mentioned. ermmm i think thats it if i missed anything pls lmk.

a/n: please understand that i am not a professional writer.. shit might be wrong (grammer, punctuation ect) its not really proofread but its been put through grammarly so yehah enjoysies i guess

MEN DNI I WILL FIND YOU.

wc: 2.3k ish

prologue. ch 1.

You wake up to the sun shining into your room, your phone going off relentlessly, “Man what the- who is texting me” You pick up your phone,

*45 missed messages from Abby*

‘baby cmon’

‘It was a mistake, I'm sorry’

‘y/n you are doin way too much rn just pick up baby please’

You roll your eyes at her pleads. She cheated on you with one of your best friends and she just expects you to forgive her? Hell no! She betrayed your trust. You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and began to get ready to shower.

‘Where the fuck is my speaker..’ you think to yourself as you look through your apartment, making a mess of clothes on the floor. You stop and think back to the last time you used it.. Last night! you go to your kitchen and sure enough there it is, right on the counter. You grab it and go to your bathroom, put on a playlist, and get in the shower.

Ellie couldn’t sleep, she was just too embarrassed, she still could not believe she was touching herself out in public. She thought she was cringe as fuck for that.. Whatever she has to get ready for work. She does a quick sniff test ‘Good enough’ she gets into her car and heads to the shop.

She gets to the store and notices that one of the lights on the sign has gone out. She grabs her phone out of her pocket and sends a text to Mrs. Alden,

‘Good morning Mrs. Alden, I just got to the shop and noticed that one of the lights that are on the sign has gone out. Would you like me to call someone?’

‘Good Morning Ellie. Yes, you can call someone. I will be stopping by at around 4 pm. I need to pick up something and I need to pay the bills. I will see you later Ellie.’

*Ellie liked a message*

Ellie heads inside and gets the store ready to be opened, she calls a repair company to schedule an appointment to get the light fixed. She goes to the back to do a quick restock.

“Ellie! I'm here, do you need anything?” Jesse yells from the other room, Ellie flinches at the sound of his voice and walks to where he was

“Fuck, Jesse you scared me, I dunno maybe? Not right now I don’t think. The electrician is coming to fix a light on the sign at like 12, but I might not be here so will you be able to let him in and show him which light it is? Oh also Mrs. Alden is coming around 4 so be respectful she's old and she will fire you if you are just the slightest bit disrespectful”

Jesse gives her a nod indicating that he understands,

Ellie goes to her little music room to rest as the store doesn't open until 10 and it's only 8 right now. She is nervous. As much as she loves Mrs. Alden, she scares the shit out of Ellie, she's quite old and mean, and she never comes to the shop…like ever.

Whitney Alden Is the owner of ‘Musemoon’, she started the shop in 1999 and it's been her baby ever since, she met Ellie when she was 10 and took her in, she helped Ellie understand music better and form a connection with it. Ellie is terrified of Mrs. Alden, why? Don't ask, she just is.

So Alden coming to the shop is very stressful for Ellie as she is the manager and is next in line to own the store when Whitney dies. Everything has to be perfect, no album out of place, no dust on the record players. Oh, and Ellie’s music room needs to be spick and span. So before Ellie takes a little nap she sets two alarms, one for 9:50 and another for 3:00.

The sound of the alarm jolts Ellie out of her sleep. She looks at the time, it’s 9:55, enough time for her to open up the store and do some inventory.

“Jessie, I'm gonna open up shop and do some inventory before it gets too busy in here alright”

“Okay”

The repair man had come to fix the light about 8 hours ago and Mrs. Alden left an hour ago. It’s currently 8 and Ellie is getting ready to leave, but Jessie stops her

“Hey, Ellie, Dina and I were going to go to this bar downtown with a couple of friends, you wanna come?”

“uhhh yeah, who all is gonna be there?”

“Me, Dina, Tara, Cat, Syd-”

“I’m sorry, Cat?” Ellie looked at him like he was stupid “Cat as in my ex? the girl who literally made me lose my shit for like half a year?”

“Yeah, but I thought ya’ll ended on good terms?”

“Jessie Jesus fuck of course we didn’t end on good terms I literally had to stop working for a while? She made me go insane, To her we ended on good terms but to me, she fucked me up.”

“sooooo that's a no to going to the bar?”

“no fuck you im going, I need a drink. Alden stressed the fuck out of me” She rolls her eyes playfully and gives him a lighthearted punch in the arm.

————————————

You get a call from Abby, she has been blowing your phone up all day. Why can’t she catch a hint, you’re pissed at her. You don’t want to talk to her. Ignoring the phone isn’t going to stop her. You need to talk to her. Face to face. ‘fuck’ you thought to yourself, you know if you pull up to her house and try to argue with her about this, all that's gonna happen is her hands in your pants fingering away the anger. No, you decided to stand your ground, you’re going to go to her house and talk to her like the adults you are. This will not end in hate fucking, you promise to yourself.

You get in your car and drive to her house, your phone still going off constantly. Once you get to her house your eyes fixate on a car. A car you’ve seen, shit a car you’ve rode in. What. The. Fuck. You walk to her front porch and bang on the door

“ABBY” you continue knocking but still no answer.

“ABBY MOTHER FUCKE- LET ME IN OR GOD SO HELP ME I WILL KICK YOUR DOOR DOWN”

The door swings open and you see Abby, she has a black muscle shirt on and some black and red basketball shorts. You can’t lie, she looks so fine.. But no you’re mad at her.

“Baby, baby..calm down we can talk abo-”

you cut her off mid-sentence and push past her and walk into her home. “Now why the fuck” you laugh a little in disbelief “Why the fuck is Lexi’s car in your driveway?”

“it's not what you think baby I promise”

you’re looking at her intensely, she’s bullshitting you right now,

“bullshit”

You begin to head to Abby’s room, hoping to god that it was really just a misunderstanding. But your stomach drops when she tries her hardest to stop you from going in there. You burst into her room and there you see it. Lexi Smith. Here in the flesh. Literally. She’s naked and in Abby’s bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me..?” Tears begin to swell in your eyes and your voice trembles. “are both of you being so serious right now? Lexi what? Abby, I'm used to you doing stupid shit like this. But Lexi? Really? fuck both of yall”

Lexi sits there, silent with nothing to say. You look at Abby, her arms are crossed and her head is down. You walk up to her. “Look at me,” you say sternly

She opens her eyes and looks into yours. Her eyes are looking into yours so gently, she thinks she's gonna get away with this. Not this time. You’re done. You can’t take this shit anymore.

You look in her eyes. Anger filled your senses, and before you could even process it, you slapped her, hard enough to leave a mark. “Don’t call my phone ever again. I'm done, Abby. I'm done with you” You storm off to your car, tears still in your eyes, you get into your car and just sit there. You finally let go of the anger and sadness that had just built up in your body. You try your hardest not to cry too much but it's already too late. You drive home still crying. You open the door to your apartment and dial Jillian’s number.

‘hello..?’

“Jilly”

‘sweetheart? what's wrong?’

“Can you comeover please”

‘of course my love’

You hang up the phone and lie on your couch feeling numb. Why, though? This isn’t the first time Abby’s cheated… Maybe it's because it's your best friend that she cheated on you with. You sob even harder thinking about it.

about 5 minutes pass when you hear your door unlock and open

“y/n? sweetie? It's Jill” She walks over to you confused

“what’s wrong?”

you sniff, “Abby.. a-nd Lexi” You hiccup slightly between words “they…she..” You can’t even get your words out without getting the urge to cry. But Jillian understood what you said. She just hugs you and you both sit there for a moment so you can calm yourself.

“how about we try to take your mind off them for now, let's go out! a bar, my treat, Marshall and Jean can come yeah?”

you nod at her offer. Marshall, Jean, and Jillian. The ones who have been there since day one. The ones that have never betrayed you.

Jillian tells you to go get dressed and that Jean and Marshall will be there in about an hour.

Going out feels like a chore to you, you really don’t want to leave but, Jillian always knows what's best for you so you oblige. Throwing on a beige sweater dress and some heels, you and her were ready to hit the town.

Once you both arrive at the bar, you spot Marshall and Jean, ready with open arms to talk about how they never really fucked with Lexi and how they all knew she was fake. Even though they were the ones who told you to become friends with her during your freshman year of college, but whatever you know they’re just saying what you want to hear, trying to lighten the mood.

You are about three shots into some alcohol Jill had ordered for the table when you see a familiar face. Where did you see this girl? She looks so familiar, you begin to think back a day or two but the alcohol in your system was clouding your memory. The music store, right what was her name

you were so lost in thought you didn’t even realize Jean was trying to get your attention

“Hellooo?? Earth to y/n? girl hello I'm trying to talk to you”

“shit my bad what's up”

Marshall chimes in “What were you thinking about babes? you were so out of it”

You look at him and giggle a little, “okay guys, just listen” you pause hoping you have their full undivided attention. “you see that auburn-haired girl over there” You point in her direction trying to be discreet. “I know her, I met her like yesterday at that music store I went to”

They all look “Girll what is her name?” Marshall asks, trying to get any type of information he's definitely going to look her up and do some digging for you.

“I honestly do not remember. I know it started with an E or an A. Elsie? Ally?..Ellie! it was Ellie”

“bitchhh you should go talk to her” Jean chimes in but Jillian objects

“I really don’t think you should, you had a rough day and you’re already tipsy”

Jean and Marshall look at her angrily, “which is exactly why she should go talk to her. It might take her mind off of everything” Marshall says, trying to persuade her.

Jillian just throws her hands up in defeat. “Do whatever makes you happy y/n, just know I don’t think this is a good idea”

You consider just listening to her and not even taking the chance, but after some more encouraging words from Marshall and Jean, you give in, taking another shot before walking to her table.

You walk over to her, she’s sitting there so uninterested in what's happening around her.

“Hey?” you say softly trying not to startle her, She looks up at you, her eyes glossy and slightly red, she’s high..

“oh shit hey, you’re umm that girl from yesterday, y/n right?”

“yes, I am, anndd you’re Ellie right?”

she nods and looks into your eyes, “I just wanted to say hi, I saw you from across the room”

She smiles slightly “Well hey”

You realize you’ve been just standing there awkwardly, not saying anything

“Sorry I just wanted to say hi, I’ll get out of your hair now, again so sorry for bothering you”

She looks you up and down, “noo you are not bothering me if anything you’re saving me from them” She laughs and looks at her friends who are talking amongst themselves. You smile and giggle at her, you are very embarrassed,

“You want a drink?” She asks as she gets up from her seat and puts out her hand for you to take. You accept her offer and take her hand, she leads you to the bar and orders two whiskey sours

——————————

OH! and this was inspired by “The Thought Of You” by @ap3arll !!

🏷️ @vqxen @shiimer @bready101

[alexa-fika]

Killer Timeouts ( Kidd x sibling!Reader x Killer)

A/N Im determined to do at least one from all of this list of prompts, once again send love to @me-writes-prompts for delivering this,also let me point out idk how many of these we have done but none of them have been in an pffice so far 😂. Honestly I think it’s A COOK, is it a cook, a simmer or a lukewarm?

Also 💖 Anon, I see you and your request 🫦, exited for some Vinsmoke action

Prompt: "Can you stop and pay attention to what I'm saying for once?" "Oh, I didn't see you were here."

Divider’s by @/saradika

“-And I really think we should not get down on the next island; there are a lot of marines there, so we should lay low until our….Kid!” They growled, frustrated that their brother had sat tinkering with his arm all the time they had been talking, most likely ignoring every word they had said

“Can you stop and pay attention to what im saying for once?!”

“Oh, I didn’t see you were here.”

“What the hell, Kid! I have been trying to tell you our plan for our next stop for the last fifteen minutes!”

“You talk a lot, you know that?”

“And you ignore a lot, you know that?”

“You’re boring.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear brother have my plans to keep us from being captured far too boring for you?”

“Your plans are always boring.”

“That’s because your ‘plans’ simply involve killing everyone on sight!”

“That’s why they are good plans.”

“You infuriating piece of crap! I should throw you overboard!” They growl, stomping their way only to be stopped by someone slipping their arms under their arms, wrapping them around their chest, holding them back from approaching their brother any further

“Killer, let me go; he needs a good beating!”

“I think you guys need some space.”

Killer’s voice rumbles calmly, holding Reader back from causing another fight between the siblings

“Is this what y’all do when I’m not around, fight?”

“I wouldn’t have to if that Emo-wannabe would just listen to me!”

“The hell did you say?!”

“You heard me!”

“You’re both so stubborn; both the same.” Killer sighs

“No, we’re not!” They both scream angrily, glaring at the masked man

Killer rolls his eyes

“Off we go, Reader; lets go somewhere else and take some time to calm down.”

“Ugh!”

Killer walks out of the room, dragging the reader by the back of their shirt, ignoring them as they suddenly start fighting against his grasp as Kid cackles, flipping them the bird

“C’mon,” he said, dragging them away

“Just one punch, Killer!”

"No," Killer replies calmly

"You two can't act responsibly, so I'm keeping you separated.Sit," he says, pointing to the stairs leading to the ship's wheel.

“But-

"Sit." Killer repeats, cutting off their protests

“You’re in time out for the next hour.”

“An hour?! An I just sitting here for an ho- wait, the hell you mean timeout?!”

"Yes, you two are acting like children, so I'm treating you like children." Killer replies

“Come on!”

"Sit, or im making you stay in the ship for the next island," Killer repeats, pointing towards the stairs

“But im the strategist!”

“Okay, then you’re on guard duty on our next stop then, you’ll be in cleaning duty while you stay on the ship.”

“You can’t assign me those roles!”

“Want to try me?”

“No..” they mutter, pouting, knowing the masked man would find a way to get their stubborn ass to do those tasks; he had been dealing with the siblings' antics for years, so he had become an expert in handling them, and their little bouts

“Then sit down,” Killer replies, knowing he holds the upper.

Their pout deepens as they plant themselves on the ground

“Can I at least get my notebook and planning sheets?” they whine, only to turn into a groan as the blond man quickly chucks the items, chuckling as Reader simply glares at him

Yall I think Grammarly change one pf the readers to The reader so if you see it let me know, I couldn’t see it when I was editing so maybe it’s not there but hey if you see it

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

[mccnstruck]

your wishes marked on my skin (your vision blurred with mine)

characters: kazuha x gn!reader, tomo, mentions of beidou, gorou, raiden shogun, and traveller

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, good ending, headcanons included, major character death, 5k words (ZEE GONE INSANE NOT CLICKBAIT), long fic, curse word, not focused on relationship, reader has a vision and weapon of choice, not proofread, op has gone insane and now is short-circuited to only thinking of kazuha, op has gone bonkers in tags, traveller uses they/them pronouns, unspecified traveler, canon semi-complient

a/n: holy SHIIHDBFJDSFFSFDS. Um. I kinda. Yea this was 5k words what the hell zee DO SOMETHING ELSE YOU HAVE 3 TESTS TOMORROW- anyways i REALLLLY HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS cuz i sure enjoyed writing and imagining this at school. Reblogs and tags are much appreciated yea i hope you have a ASTRONOMICALLY GREAT DAY / NIGHT !!!!! (Zee is hyper because he is going insane) (p.s. i had 168 premium grammarly errors on this piece thats how you know this about to go crazy. crazy i was crazy once they-) (P.S.S. EARLY BIRTHDAY GIFT FOR KAZUHA BECAUSE I AM BUSY ANYWAYS HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAZUHA I LOVE YOU MERA CHAANDA MERA JAAN)

What if there were tattoos in teyvat...but with a twist?

If you are a vision wielder, you can infuse elemental power into your tattoo. Whenever you get into battle, your tattoo glows and it stays glowing until the battle is over.

But, you could also have other vision wielders infuse your tattoo as well.

When you, kazuha, and tomo used to travel together, you proposed of the idea.

"Hey... we should get matching tattoos! You know, the ones with each other visions infused. That would be cool."

Kazuha hummed in response. “Don’t they hurt though?”

Tomo brightened at your suggestion. “Oh yeah! Some methods of inking hurt, but some are less painful and take longer. I think the method they use to infuse elemental power does take longer, considering the person has to wield their vision AND bear the pain.”

Kazuha hummed again but in disagreement. “Why would you make yourself go through all that pain once more?”

The companion to Kazuha’s left let out a huff. “Pssh, in comparison to the result! We can have permanent matching tattoos to remind us of the amazing friendship we have!”

You nodded excitedly. “See Kazuha, even Tomo thinks it’s a great idea! However…”

Tomo and Kazuha both turn to face you with curiosity.

“...I fail to agree with how Tomo views one part of our bond…”

“Hm? [ name ], what do you mean,” Tomo questioned.

You took a deep breath before sending a prayer to any archon who would answer in time. for you were about to make what you believed was the riskiest choice of your life.

You brought Kazuha’s closest hand and let your thumb stroke his rough, calloused skin, before lifting it to your lips. Letting your lips linger on his skin, you ignored both Kazuha’s and Tomo’s widened eyes and whispered your confession. “I would like to turn it into something more. If… If you would allow me.”

When you looked to see him, Kazuha’s face was burning. For once, the calm, collected wanderer was not calm and collected at all. To your side, Tomo let out a whistle which caused Kazuha’s face to become undoubtedly more flustered.

Tomo smirked before saying, “Well, well, well. looks like [ name ] learned from the best,” before patting himself on the back, smug and prideful of himself.

You copied his words mockingly. You let go of Kazuha's hands, instead focusing on making sure Tomo ate dust. Both of these duties were equally important to you, but sometimes you have to fight for dignity, and if anyone could make sure Tomo didn’t leave with your pride, it would be you.

You two bickered for what seemed like ages before Kazuha finally spoke up. “You guys…”

Both you and Tomo immediately shut up and held your breaths at the sudden change of tone.

“Sorry Kazuha…”

“No worries…”

Kazuha looked at you two for what seemed like ages. He realized that, out of all the times and out of all the people he would even dare to get a tattoo, you two were the most reasonable choice. You three have explored, laughed, and eaten together. As wanderers, you’ve slept under the same stars and ran through the same quick-tempered storms. So as much as he didn’t want to deal with more pain for the sake of it, he would want to have both of you engraved into his skin, both of your souls running through his blood. When he is separated from you two (archons forbid), all he would have to do is look at his forearms to remind him of the bond you’ve tightened with one another. It would remind him that “distance makes the heart grow fonder”.

“I would like them. The tattoos.”

Tomo scoffed and shot a disapproving look at you. “See, now that you have Kazuha wrapped around your finger, he’ll agree to anything now!”

“Hey! He’s doing it out of free will. And oh please, you’re just whiny that you’re gonna be third wheeling now!”

“Who said I was gonna be third wheeling?!”

Kazuha smiled, as the bickering sprang back into life. You three reached the city to search for a tattoo, a symbol of the bond you have made with them. Nothing will break it apart.

And you did get the tattoos! For all three of you, each of your forearms was covered in traditional Inazuman artworks, symbolizing each person.

Kazuha chose the maple tree, Tomo chose the koi fish, and you chose the rising sun. Each has its symbolism, having its own way of reminding you of each other.

Kazuha wouldn’t be Kazuha without representing the calm, peaceful maple tree, standing over to make sure all under the shade is rested.

As his perseverance and his courage make him a good traveling companion, Tomo represents the koi fish.

As for you… You found yourself closest to the rising sun. Ever so optimistic, ever so hopeful for the new day. The darkness may have clung to you; trying to slowly hack into your mind to give up, trying to belittle your efforts. But when dawn breaks and the sun rises, the newfound warmth comforts your shivering body. The sun is there to say all will be alright.

…

Except when it isn’t.

For as soon as it seemed like everything would be okay, that hope was crushed by reality as quickly.

The Vision Hunt Degree had been ordered by the Shogun to kill anyone who possessed one.

The day it was enforced to all of Inazuma was the day the two closest people in your life were separated from you. In the heat of the moment, you shouted for them to run; for you would distract the soldiers. Tomo and Kazuha both tried to ignore your order and keep on fighting but were soon met with a sting on their arm. The rising sun drawn on their arms practically shone with the color of your vision, and it was hard to ignore how much of your vision you were using.

“I said, GO!”

They had no time to disagree with you, for another soldier swung the sword at both of them. You saw them running in the corner of your eyes, assumably heading in different directions before focusing on the battle in front of you.

Your anger manifested into your attacks, your arms glowing.

How… How could the Shogun be so cruel..? How could she just determine that Inazuma's hopes and ambitions were useless? How could she take the people closest to you away…?

The soldiers fell to the ground one by one as they tried to get back up. With the last of them wounded temporarily, you ran as quickly as you could. Trying to find Kazuha and Tomo, you lifted your hand to block the light and search far and wide…

Only to find nothing.

Your heart felt as if it stopped and a new sense of fear rushed through. What if they were hurt? What if they were lost, or found by the soldiers? Or worse…What if they were lying dead?

What if what if what if what if what if what if WHAT IF-

You look down and see the maple tree and the koi fish glowing; purple and teal were coloring your arms. The glow didn’t sting, so you knew they weren’t out in battle, but they were out there. They were alive.

You sighed in relief, but it didn’t last long when you heard soldiers yelling to find you. You quickly hid under the trees and took one last look at the view ahead of you. The distance grows the heart fonder, and in this situation, much, much more disquieted.

And for the first time in what seemed like forever, you were alone. And you felt it in your soul.

Before you met Kazuha and Tomo, you were alone. You wandered around, knowing you were to be by yourself. You were just “yourself”.

But now that you know you were separated from them, it was terrifying.

Now, if someone asked “how are you”, the word “you” was Tomo, you, and Kazuha laughing along the trails leading to the city. “You” included the times you watched the stars, pointing to different constellations.

“You” included you, Kazuha, and Tomo.

And now that two-thirds of yourself were lost, you felt as if you would never relieve this pain in your heart.

Every day, you looked at your arms and were met with how dull they looked without the familiar purple and teal glow.

But still, you didn’t stop.

Wandering through a small town, you sat down on the grass to take a rest. There weren’t any soldiers around, and your face was hidden by a hat.

“Did you hear?!”

Your ears perked up at the stranger’s sudden shock.

“What happened? You seem so shocked.”

The stranger closest to you took a deep breath as if what he witnessed was a burden to his soul.

“Someone is challenging Kujou Sara in Tenshukaku, and the loser will face the Shogun's punishment… Last time I saw him, he had an electro vision…”

Your eyes widened. Please don’t be….he couldn’t have…

“Did you see him in person?”

“Yeah, I think he has some tattoos on his arms. I saw a tattoo of a koi fish and a maple tree on his arm-“

“Did you hear that?!”

The two strangers looked towards where you were but found nothing but a straw hat gently falling onto the grass.

Up ahead, your legs ran faster than your mind trying to make sense of it all.

Tomo.

Tomo.

You ran, and you ran, and when you felt like your heart was going to burst, you remembered Tomo, and you ran faster. Your legs felt like they were merely connected to your body, running to a place of its own. But what could you do, when your mind still couldn't find an explanation for all of this?

Tomo… why would he stand before Raiden's Musou no Hitomachi? He knew Kujou Sara was a potent individual, so why…

Thoughts lingered through your mind as you caught sight of Inazuma City. The thunder roared, and you realized it didn't have the spark it used to have.

Your hands shook as the Inazuma City you once knew was not your Inazuma City.

It felt too stiff. Too suffocating. You couldn't feel the cool air breeze through your hair, as the humidity made you want to turn back.

You force yourself to run down to the entrance of the city and Tenshukaku.

You were scared. More than scared. Your shaking hands held your vision close.

Would you see Tomo smiling in victory? Or would you see your vision go white from her strike? Would you regain your vision to see one of your closest friends lying in his blood?

Your pace grew faster and faster.

And faster.

And faster and faster and faster-

But when you stopped in front of the stairs where Tomo was supposed to be, you instead saw Kazuha run to you, panicked. And in his burnt hands, was a gray vision, with the markings of an electro holder.

You were too late.

You almost didn't hear Kazuha's desperate pleas as he grabbed your hand.

"[ Name ], we have to go."

You both ran down the stairs as soldiers ran after; their shouts ringing through your ears.

“You can't resist the Shogun's punishment, criminals!"

Ignoring their threats, you ran past Inazuma City’s entrance and soon past Konda Village. You couldn’t tell if the soldiers were still behind you, but it didn’t matter when all you could hear was their voices running through your head. You and Kazuha ran for what felt like hours. No matter how hard you tried to slow your pacing heart, Kazuha tugged your hand as he ran. You wanted to tell him to slow down, but you didn’t have the heart to.

You didn’t have the heart after you were too slow to save Tomo.

The rain poured as thunder roared in your ears. You and Kazuha ran into a cave and leaned against the wall to catch your breath.

Kazuha, sitting opposite of you, pulled out the gray, lifeless vision. His hands were burned, yet they gripped the vision painfully.

Your breath hitched. Your throat closed in on itself, and your memories of Tomo flashed through your eyes.

Tomo.

Tomo.

Tomo.

Before you could stop yourself, the tears matched the rain out of the cave, and you shakily held Kazuha’s hands. Your tears fell on the vision that once shined with the pride of an electro holder, and your agony couldn’t be held in you anymore.

A gut-wrenching cry of his name left your throat, and you let the cold, gray vision touch your forehead. Kazuha didn’t have the energy to wince; his tears hitting the ground.

The sun never shone that day. And the sun in your soul didn’t either.

After that day, both you and Kazuha stayed by each other’s side, graciously taking the help of the Kamisato clan to board the Crux.

Beidou’s crew were extremely generous to both of you, making sure you got used to life above seas. Yet, they always wondered why you and Kauzha were so quiet. You only talked to each other, and your interactions were short and dry.

As months passed, Kazuha grew to be much more chatty with the crew, even letting you hear his poems underneath the moonlight.

You were genuinely happy for him. Kazuha deserved to let the world guide his spirits without any hesitation. You never wanted the shine in Kazuha’s eyes to stop shining, unlike the fateful day you both witnessed.

But you…you never let it go. You couldn’t let yourself forget.

Too slow.

You were too slow to save him.

Working on the ship, you made sure your hands swiftly moved through your chores; making sure your lack of speed didn’t burden any of the crew. When you had time to yourself, your hands gripped your weapon and your steps were swift and sneaky. Your body ached to rest, but your heart disagreed. You were to make sure that this would never happen again. You were to make sure no one would lose their life because of you.

Kazuha watched your eyes struggle to open daily, your fingers bruised and sore, and the hours spent training without a minute to rest. Captain Beidou seemed to notice as well.

“Kazuha?”

His head turned to the side as his legs dangled over the side of the boat.

“Yes, Captain Beidou?”

She sighed, and she looked to make sure you weren’t near.

“It’s about your partner.”

Kazuha frowned.

“I am aware.”

“Please talk to them. They look like death is at their door. Does this have to do with going back to Inazuma?”

Kazuha nodded and turned his head back to the sea.

“The wind tells me of their concerns. I hear the fears that crawl through their mind. The sun doesn’t shine in their soul like it used to.”

He looked down at his arms as the color of your vision glowed on his arms.

Beidou patted Kazuha’s shoulder in solace.

“I understand. Just…please get a chance to talk to them. I wouldn’t want a part of my crew working themselves to death. As a part of the Crux, you guys have a support system behind you. If you ever need us, you know where.”

Kazuha smiled and whispered a “thank you”, as Beidou returned to help the crew navigate the ship. He looked over at you, who came back from training, and smiled. You gave a tired but soft smile back, before leaving to finish up chores.

The sun was no longer visible as the crew finished their tasks and headed to their cabins. Instead of resting, Kazuha watched over the seas. The moonlight hit his face, and the black ink swiftly glided over his journal.

“I was wondering where you could’ve been. You weren’t in the cabin.”

Kazuha turned to see you walking up to him. Your eyes pleaded to shut, and for a moment you were about to fall asleep standing up. Yet, you still went to make sure Kauzha was okay.

Kazuha cupped your face, and you leaned into his touch.

“Kazu…”

“Do you wish to hear something I wrote?”

You slowly nodded. Kazuha looked at his journal and whispered.

“Rising sun hidden,

the world’s horror blinding you,

my sun stays fearful.”

When Kazuha looked back at you, he almost giggled at your sleep-deprived state. Your eyes were closed, and you leaned into his hand like a pillow.

“Mmm…? That’s nice, Kazuha…”

He smiled at your attempt to stay awake. “Let’s get you to bed, sleepy.”

Your head landed on his shoulder as you shuffled your feet. Kazuha sighed in relief that everyone was in their cabins. He wouldn’t be able to take the crew’s teasing if they ever saw the comical sight of you two.

As soon as you caught sight of your bed, you fell into it and brought the soft blankets up to your chin.

You were dead asleep, it seemed.

Kazuha climbed into bed and laid his head next to yours. With his eyes drooping, Kazuha whispered one more thing before falling into slumber.

“My rising sun. Please don’t hide yourself away from everyone. We’re always here for you. I’m here. Always.”

When Kazuha fell asleep soon after, he never noticed the tears on your skin.

You whispered back. “Thank you.”

After that night, Kazuha was thrilled to see you walking around the boat with more energy, even taking the time to sit with Kazuha as he mused over his poems.

Kazuha recently had started to see if he could somehow ignite the purple glow into the vision, while you had no hope for it.

“Kazuha… are you sure?”

“I want to at least try once. After all, it couldn’t hurt, would it?”

“I guess…”

You both meet a blonde traveler with fiery gold eyes. As the Traveler competed throughout the contest hosted by Beidou, you couldn’t help but notice Kazuha’s keen interest in the traveler.

“You’ve been staring at the Traveler for quite a while. What’s up with that?”

Kazuha hummed. “The wind tells me that this humble traveler is going to be more important to our journey than it seems.”

He paused. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just wondering, that's all.”

You both stayed silent as you watched the duels unfold.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

You gasped and almost choked on your spit. You turn your head to Kazuha who grinned mischievously.

“Huh?! Where did you get that?!”

Kazuha pretended to act bewildered at your reaction. “Your reaction is quite defensive, dear. That says quite a lot, doesn’t it?”

“You…you! I never thought of you being so cunning and devious!”

Kazuha giggled, and you smiled back. “I’m just teasing. Although, I wasn’t necessarily wrong.”

You scoffed with faux anger. “Focus on the duels, Kazu…”

As expected, the Traveler was victorious in the duels, since the last challenger was nowhere to be found.

Suspicious of the no-show, Kazuha checked to see the award to find nothing in the chest. Kazuha’s eyes widened and his tone lost its playfulness.

“Someone stole the vision.”

You quickly stood up to check yourself and were also greeted by a visionless chest.

Beidou’s voice echoed to the crew. “Everyone start searching!”

You soon found the vision to be with a treasure hoarder. The hoarder begging for his life, Kazuha sighed and confiscated the vision. You and Kazuha were quite impressed with the Traveler’s ability to wield elemental power without a vision.

All that the Traveler asked was to be taken to Inazuma. With final warnings and hesitations from you, the Traveler was to board the ship with you to the land of eternity.

When the ship did reach the docks, the Traveler and Paimon immediately hopped off and looked at the beauty of Inazuma.

With hesitation you walk to the wooden dock, the Inazuman breeze flowing past you.

The Traveler looked back and smiled at you and Kazuha. “Thank you so much, you two.”

You smiled back, shaking your head. “No worries. Just make sure to remember what I said. Don’t want you to get hurt, ok?”

Kazuha snickered next to you. “You sound like a parent. But please do heed caution. May you meet us again, Traveler.”

Paimon laughed, “Alright, alright, we’ll see you later!”

Paimon and the Traveler waved before they headed to Ritou.

Beidou suddenly walked past both of you, before saying she wanted to take the Traveler to Thoma. You both nodded, promising to watch over the ship.

As you returned to the ship, Kazuha looked over the horizon into Ritou.

“Worried?”

Kazuha hummed.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Will the Traveler be alright? I understand the incredible ability to have elemental power without a vision, but…”

“But…?”

He looked down at his arms and stared at the koi fish. “Tomo.”

You looked down onto your arms and stared into the grey koi fish. "Tomo…"

You willed yourself not to shed a tear and squeezed Kazuha's shoulder. "We're not going to let anyone else lose their life and their vision. Not even the Traveler. The dreams of Inazuma will not be stuck to rot in eternity. You got it?'"

Kazuha looked back at you and smiled, wiping a tear from his eye. "Yes, we will."

You took his hand and pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around his back. He buried his head in the crook of your neck and you pressed your lips to the top of his head.

You quickly lowered your voice before continuing. "I think the Traveler has a major role in the freedom of Inazuma. The Traveler has a lot of power with no vision."

Kazuha hummed in agreement.

"Yet… I fear the Shogun will be displeased with the Traveler’s ability to change her view of eternity."

"The shogun wouldn't be pleased with anything, Kazuha. But in retaliation, do years of anger ask whether anyone's feelings would be hurt?"

A moment of silence, before Kazuha whispered, "You're right. Thank you, dear."

You loosened your embrace to kiss him on the forehead. "Let's go eat something. I'm sure I saw the chef cooking the fish well."

Kazuha laughed, and you swore to the Shogun that nothing, not even her, could take Kazuha from you.

You both walked to the kitchen to fulfill your stomach's desire, and you made your heart promise to you that day to never stop fighting for Inazuma. For your heart desired to love Inazuma, and in turn, Inazuma would always welcome you home.

Months of preparation and months of aiding the resistance, you and Kazuha finally step foot in Inazuma, fighting with Kokomi and her resistance to let the Kujou army retreat.

The Traveler and Paimon were very happy to see both of you, telling you of their journey and the fight with the Shogun herself. Kazuha’s and your eyes widened at the tales they told.

“Like… fighting the Shogun?”

“Technically? Thoma and I ran out as soon as possible and I came to the resistance.”

You were awed by the Traveler’s skill and wit to not be killed by the Shogun. You knew that they were extraordinary, and the Traveler did not disappoint, soon finding out about the delusions being handed out.

You couldn't be surprised at the Fatui's inhumane crimes. But the severity of the damage. The lives lost to their carelessness. The dreams which no longer thrived.

Your fingers and arms shook with anger. You tapped your fingers on your leg to resist pulling out your sword and stabbing the wall.

The Traveler gave you a joyless smile, understanding your pain.

The Traveler went off to fight Raiden Shogun, and Kazuha, the resistance, and you stood outside Tenshukaku. You were discussing tactics to negotiate when the Traveler came back out smiling.

You all watched the Traveler and Paimon walk out of Tenshukaku with a triumphant smile. You were about to run to the Traveler to praise them when a flash of electro appeared behind them. Your eyes widened and you swore you almost saw flashbacks running through your head.

The shogun emerged behind the Traveler and raised her sword.

You couldn't do anything. She was going to kill another person.

The adrenaline ran through Kazuha's body, and he ran towards the Shogun with his sword out.

You saw a flash of purple overwhelm your vision, and you already prepared yourself to see the Shogun's purple glow kill Kazuha.

What you didn't expect was to see your arms glowing in purple and teal. Looking up, you saw Kazuha’s vision glowing as his sword clashed with the Shogun's. Close to his vision, Tomo's vision glowed a vivid purple. The vision glowed brighter and brighter, and as your arms glowed an insane purple, Kazuha struck the Shogun back.

Tomo.

Tomo.

The vision.

The vision lit up.

You whispered.

"Holy shit."

Kazuha was knocked back by her sword and fell backward. His sword stabbed itself into the ground, and he kneeled in pain.

You and Gorou rushed to him to make sure he was alright. You looked at the visions on his belt, before looking back at the Shogun.

Anger bubbled in your throat, and adrenaline ran through your veins. Your vision revealed itself and glowed profusely. The tattoos on Kazuha's and your skins glowed. Before you could process your own emotions, you stood and let out a gut-wrenching, demanding yell. But it wasn't painful like that fateful day. It was of rebellion and hope.

"Charge!"

You ran towards the Shogun with your weapon in your hand and your heart laid out in plain sight.

Except it wasn’t for the Shogun to shatter. It was for the Inazuman kids who dreamed of going into the world. It was for the Inazuman shopkeepers who always looked at the ocean longingly. It was for the Inazuman vision holders to freely let their vision guide them through their ambitions. It was for future electro-holders to make a difference in their lives. It was for Inazuma to glow its purple light throughout Tevyat. It was for Inazuma. This was for Inazuma and it’s forever changing people.

Gorou soon ordered to attack, and the resistance fighters ran beside you towards the Teyvat.

So this is what Tomo felt, you thought. You were to be insane for fighting, but you would be damned to give in to the Shogun. Because do years of anger ask whether anyone's feelings are hurt?

The shogun seemed unfazed by the army charging at her and opened the Plane of Euthymia. The Traveler fell inside, and she shut the seeming new realm. You tried to grab the Traveler back, but the Shogun was faster. The Plane closed, and you cursed at the winds. You looked to the skies to see gray clouds fill the skies.

Why were you too late every time?

You stopped to catch your breath and looked at the ground where the Shogun stood.

The electro-marked ground darkened from the rigorous and desperate fighting to be free.

You looked back at Kazuha and looked back at the fighters who were paused in their steps. Their eyes widened at the disappearance, and their eyebrows were furrowed from the anger, which turned into confusion.

Your voice echoed down the staircase, and it felt like you were yelling to all of Inazuma.

“To all who have visions! To all who have lost theirs!”

Eyes of fighters watched you with curiosity. Crimson eyes watched you with admiration.

“Our visions are a symbol of life to all! With the Shogun’s order to take them away, our humanity is stripped away from us to fit us into a mold of unattainable eternity! To all who have visions, don’t hide yourself anymore! Our ambitions, our dreams, our emotions, and our humanity shouldn’t be diminished to a name on a gravestone! Everyone, pull out your visions! Channel the overwhelming emotions in your heart to your vision! Let the Shogun hear your wishes no matter how far she is, for she is omnipresent!”

The fighters yelled and made their presence known. Some of them closed their eyes to let their visions glow, and you soon joined them. Your heart raced, and your arms glowed the color of your vision. You felt electro cackle around you as it stroked your skin.

The statue outside Tenshukaku glowed in different colors: dark blue, crimson red, bright teal, light blue, gold, and electrifying purple.

The fighters kept envisioning their power in their visions for as long as they could. They didn’t leave, standing with their hand on their vision for as long as they needed to.

And with every action comes a reaction.

The Plane of Euthymia reemerged, and the Traveler fell out of its opening. Bruised and tired, but alive the Traveler seemed.

Gorou, Kazuha and you rushed to their aid. The fighter stood close in case another attack were to happen.

“Traveler, what happened? Are you okay?!”

The traveler struggled to catch their breath but spoke small words as they recovered.

“The…the Vision Hunt…Vision Hunt Decree…”

Your eyebrows furrowed in worry. What did the Shogun want now?

You spoke in confusion. “The Vision Hunt Decree? What does she want?”

The Traveler raised their head and closed their eyes in bliss. Sweat dripped from their face, and they smiled.

“The Vision Hunt Decree. It’s over. It’s gone. Your pleas and protests got to her.”

Your mind stopped all thoughts.

…What?

Blue and crimson eyes widened at the Traveler’s statement.

Your voice unusually got quiet. “You’re joking, right?”

The Traveler laughed, more out of euphoria. “I got back from almost dying from her sword, and you’re asking me if I’m joking? Tell the entirety of Inazuma. They deserve to know this; this is for them.”

You stood up in a daze and shouted.

“The Vision Hunt Decree is over! The Vision Hunt is over!”

The resistance fighters roared in joy. Their steps, running down the staircase, echoed to the winds, and the winds blew in freedom.

Your body ran down the stairs with them, and your voice cracked with emotion as you shouted down the steps of Inazuma City. People stood outside to check the commotion and were instead met with a new sense of freedom. Visions hidden in homes began to glow, and the cheers and laughter of Inazuma echoed around you.

Overwhelmed with too many emotions, you stopped in your tracks when you felt your vision getting blurry. Behind you, Kazuha shouted for your name repeatedly. You looked behind and were almost tackled into the ground. Kazuha’s shoulders shook as he wrapped his arms around you. You responded in kind and sunk your knees onto the floor.

You both wept in joy. For the people you have lost, and for the people who are given freedom.

Kazuha’s voice cracked as he spoke,” We did it. It’s over.”

You cried even more in his arms. Kazuha held your hand as his endless tears journeyed down his face.

“Do you… Do you think Tomo is happy with us?”

At the mention of his name, Kazuha gritted his teeth and almost let out a sob. He raised your head with his hand on your jaw, and you finally saw Kazuha’s tear-stained face. He quickly tried to rub them away, but you were faster. You gently put your forehead on his and closed his eyes.

Kazuha closed his own and whispered in the abode of two lovers’ embrace. “He would be so proud. He would be watching us right now and grin at his glowing vision.”

“Maybe he’s probably cursing at both of us for the non-stop crying.”

Kazuha let out a watery laugh. “He would, but you would be arguing back. Non-stop bickering between you guys.”

You almost gave a snarky response when you felt the sunlight caress your skin. You looked up to find the gray clouds giving way to the sun, and you were enamored with the blue skies that grazed over Inazuma. Kazuha looked up as well, and as the city of Inazuma saw the sun in its glory, no one noticed the slight glow of purple koi fish on bruised, yet glowing skin.

mccnstruck. do not repost or plagarize my work.

[lilith-little-world]

Could you please write some domestic headcanons for reader and wukong? Love your story btw^^ (or more like the concept lol)

Awww thank you, I wanted to do a slight twist to the isekai trope that explains how the reader got transported to another world. Although, the reader is far from the only one. She just happens to survive the transmigration... Kind of. I'm honestly kind of excited to start writing the first chapter soon. It's going to be one hell of a ride.

Now to those domestic headcanons, hope there are no spelling errors, I manage to break my Grammarly keyboard every single time I write something-

(Don't you dare judge the quality I was rushing through so badly then I realized I forgot how to fucking draw. I'm going to post some art here, it's going to be meh quality just until I get used to drawing again.)

- At first, it took a good while for you guys to settle down in one place. With you enjoying the urban lifestyle. Since it made visiting shops, friends, and just having a fun day out way easier. Wukong prefers to be isolated, his only interactions being mostly with Mk and you. However, after Wukong complains for the 100th time, you move to Flower Fruit Mountain under the condition he takes you out every few days into the city and that your friends can come and visit every once in a while.

- Surprisingly, he tries to renovate and spruce things up. House feeling a little small? Want a room for your things specifically? He and his clones will start making preparations (Also maybe ask Mk and the gang for help on what exactly to do and if he's desperate enough, he'll ask DBK for some advice.) Slowly but surely, the once small hut becomes more home-like. Then when you're both satisfied, he'll move on making the pathway to the house to the entrance of the waterfall. Cleaning up any debris or rumble of pillars and crumbling murals of the past. It was by your constant nagging that he restores it, getting rid of vines and moss.

- Other than wandering around or chilling at the house you literally have nothing to do. As much as it was a nice thought of spending most of the day doing your hobby, you physically don't have enough willpower to do it every day. One day while laying around, you noticed how dusty and unorganized the house truly was. So that is how you got stuck with cleaning and keeping things organized. Yet that didn't stop there, you noticed small things like a creaky loose floorboard. That you managed to fix after searching for how to on your phone. The sink isn't draining properly, drain cleaner is already on the need-to-buy list. The problem still not solve, time to put in some elbow grease and hope you won't get too dirty.

- However, you're definitely not touching his little hoard that he has been collecting over the centuries. The last thing you want is to release some ancient curse or break something that was once important.

- He can't cook, don't even try to make him, you don't want another fire, so get that cookbook open and pray you made something edible. Over the months you had gotten better, but there's much to improve. Yet, complete failure or not, Wukong still tries it out since he is immortal, it won't kill him, and the last thing he wants is for you to get seriously sick from food poisoning. If the food was not edible, then he's either going to get takeout or you both are going out to eat, give him a few minutes to throw up the abomination you created out his stomach.

- It's only fair that he washes the dishes. You make breakfast, lunch, and dinner, it's the least he can do. (That's if he still suffers from food poisoning, it's your turn to wash the dishes.) He picks up around the kitchen, any produce you left out back in the fridge. Spices in the cupboard in their usual spots. He knows you do a lot around the house, so it's now his turn to help.

- There's one chore you both do together, it's washing and putting the clothes away. You separate the clothing in their respective pile, while Wukong loads the washer. Whoever hears the washer finishes, loads the dryer, (cough you cough). Then when the loads are done, you guys come together and fold the clothes. While watching tv to pass the time. Although Wukong likes to make a big scene whenever he grabs your underwear or bra, it was only natural that you do the same with his boxers. You guys now know each other's undergarments and clothes sizes after that. Well, it makes shopping easier.

- Wukong kept his word and takes you to the city, and if you want a vacation away from the mountain. He got a temple ready to stay at and landmarks to show you. Over the years, he saw many things and wants to show you all of them. He never liked big crowds, so going to festivals was never his thing until he finds out you enjoy it. Well, looks like he's hanging out with the gang in the city, yaaay... Just make sure you're beside him for a good portion of the time there.

- He was a little hesitant about inviting the gang to the house, but he couldn't say no to both the student that he considers like his own son, Mk and his darling lover, the love of his life, you. In all honestly, Mk and you had already planned a day to bring the group over, and you guys decided to tell him last minute. Even though he would like a heads up, so he can reject the idea, strangely the simian doesn't mind. He had nearly forgotten that the mountain could feel so... warm and lively.

- Just be warned now that he has you beside him 24/7, this touch-starved monkey will be cuddling and kissing you, the first chance he gets. Don't fall for his tricks, he's a sneaky one.

- You made a small habit to groom his fur. Running your fingers through, him relaxing within your hold. If there's a comb or brush, you will get out any tangles or knots. His fur is now soft and fluffy and he is ready for pets and cuddles. You like to spoil him once in while.

- You guys hardly argue or fight, there was a time you even feared that the honeymoon phase will be over and then reality will hit. Yet it hasn't, maybe because Wukong is actually trying to be a better person so he can stay by your side. Also, he saw you angry once and he will do anything not to get on your bad side... again. Wukong tries to get your thoughts first and asks for people's advice, though he still has trouble speaking his ideas or thoughts. Being alone for centuries will do a lot of damage to a person’s psyche.

- So things are pretty peaceful, Wukong is opening up more and you managed to have a happy life despite the odds being against you. Now it's time to answer the question, will you become immortal and join Wukong for eternity, or prolonged/have your regular human lifespan? Sadly, Wukong wouldn't be able to handle your death. It will take all of his last remaining time to ever move on...

Wait a minute-

[whumpsday]

my unhinged rant about the whumptober discourse, below the readmore for the benefit of ppl who dont wanna see that crap. im just gonna go insane if i don't say this somewhere bc i feel like i'm losing my mind

this drama is genuinely so mind-blowingly stupid it's unreal, and it's been bothering me so much that i just HAVE to talk about it or i'm gonna go insane, if for no other reason than to get it out of my system. i honestly never expected the whump community to go on the kind of bad-faith tirade that's taking place.

disclaimer right here that i do not support AI scraping creative works without permission (like chatgpt and a whole host of AI art programs do) or these AI-generated works being passed off as legitimate creative works. obviously that stuff is bad, and literally everyone on all sides of this agrees it's bad. i used chatgpt exactly once one week after it came out, before i knew how shit it was, and haven't touched AI stuff since. because it steals from creators and it sucks.

now:

saying "whumptober supports/allows AI" when their official policy says plain as day:

"we are not changing our stance from last year’s decision"

"we will not amplify or include AI works in our reblogs of the event."

"we discourage the use of AI within Whumptober, it feels like cheating, and we feel like it isn’t in the spirit of the event."

is bonkers! whumptober is a prompt list, there is nothing TO the event other than being included in the reblogs. they literally cannot stop people from doing whatever they want with the prompts.

someone could go out and enact every single prompt in real life on a creativity-fueled serial killing spree and the whumptober mods couldn't do shit about it. it's not like it's a contest you submit to. it's a prompt list! someone could take every single prompt from the AI-less whumptober prompt list, feed it into chatgpt right now, and post them as entries. and the mods of THAT wouldn't be able to stop them either. because it's a prompt list.

the AI-less event have also made just... blatantly false claims, like that grammarly isn't AI. grammarly IS AI and they openly advertise this. hell, this is grammarly's front page right now:

and this is a statement from grammarly about how its products work:

its spellchecker / grammarchecker is AI-based! claiming it's not AI is just... lying. saying "this is an AI-less event" and then just saying any AI that you want to include doesn't count as AI is ludicrous.

and you know what? whumptober actually pointed this out. they said they don't want to ban AI-based assistive tools (like grammarly) for accessibility reasons. this post has several great points:

"AI is used for the predictive text and spellchecker that's running while I type this reply."

"Accessibility tools rely on AI." this is true and here's an article about it, though the article is a little too pro-AI in general for my tastes, there's nuances to this stuff. it's used for captioning, translation, image identification, and more. not usually the same kind of AI that's used for stuff like chatgpt. THERE ARE DIFFERENT KINDS!

"But we can't stop that, nor can we undo damage already done, and banning AI use (especially since we can't enforce it) is an empty stand on a hill that's already burning, at least in our view of things."

and people were UP IN ARMS over this post! their notes were full of hate, even though it's all true! just straight lying and saying that predictive text isn't AI (it is), that AI isn't used for accessibility tools (it is), that whumptober can somehow enforce an anti-AI policy (they can't because it's a prompt list).

in effect, both whumptobers have the EXACT SAME AI POLICY. neither allows AI-generated works, but both allow AI-based assistive tools like grammarly. everyone involved here is ON THE SAME SIDE, they all have the exact same opinion on how AI should be applied to events like this, and somehow they're arguing???

not to mention that no other whump event has ever had an AI policy. febuwhump, WIJ, bad things happen bingo, hell even nanowrimo doesn't have one.

and you wanna know the most ridiculous part of this entire thing? which is also the reason why none of the above events have an AI policy.

no one is doing this. no one is out there feeding whumptober prompts to chatgpt and posting them as fills for whumptober cred. it's literally a hypothetical, made-up issue. all of this infighting over a problem that DOESN'T EXIST.

to the point that people are brigading the whumptober server with shit like this:

saying "everyone who participates in whumptober is a traitor, you should go participate in this other event with the exact same AI policy but more moral grandstanding about it" is silly. every single bit of this drama is silly.

in the end, please just be nice to people. we're ALL against the kind of AI that steals from creators. the whumptober mods are against AI, the AILWT mods are against AI, whumptober participants are against AI, AILWT participants are against AI. there is no mythical person out here trying to pass chatgpt work off as whumpfic. let's all just be civil with each other over this, yeah?

[turtlethebean]

Hello everyone, it is I, Turtle, the bean himself.

Silly introductions aside, this is a serious post I did not think I would have to make. Sorry if my words seem a bit scrambled; I just woke up not too long ago. Honestly, Grammarly is carrying this shit.

This is about the current situation regarding Andi and Zoe/Vaude. I just know there's going to be someone saying, "Oh, you've been friends with them for a while; therefore, you must be a zionist", and that is not the case.

Now, let me put it out there clearly: I am not on Isreal's side. I am not for this genocide. I'm not for ANY genocide. It's one of the main reasons I do not acknowledge the fact that I'm half-British.

I know I have not been as public about this as most other creators, but this is a shitposting account for the most part. I do not believe this situation deserves the same platform as my bullshit. I realise now that I probably should make a serious account, but I've had many blog ideas that have been yeeted out the window for various reasons.

Even if I don't post about it on this blog, I want people to know I've been doing my best behind the scenes - avoiding places on the boycott list, doing my click for arab dot org whenever it comes across my dash (hell, for a while it was broken for me (wouldn't proceed to the thank you page) and I used it as an opportunity to spam click), and keeping myself educated about what's happening.

I hope I've made myself clear in any way I possibly can. I just wanted to get this off my chest now before anyone tries to accuse me of anything. I have exams this week, and my mental health was bad enough the last time I did these same exams (I won't go into detail as this post is about Palestine, and also it's very personal).

Remember to do your daily click(s)! arab.org

As always, I love ya'll. /platonic

P.S. Feel free to add any other resources to this post. I just put the one I use bc I can't donate.

[updatingranboo]

ranboo was in offline earlier! (time in pst)

[transcript: 12:03: peepoArrive 12:04 (replying to negitave_b: "DinkDonk ranboolive" replying to squiggly_uwu: "someone tell ranboo that he can slowly take off the bandage with running saline water scuffedCry"): Yeah i got it off by soaking it hurts bad as hell now though OMEGALUL 12:04: I did see the towel as i was packing it yes 12:04: I have enough cool scars 12:04: I dont need any more OMEGALUL 12:05: I have this scar on like the side of my lip from when I bit part of it off as a kid and it is visable from time to time 12:05: cool ranboo fact WICKED 12:05: its not like big or anything its only noticeable to me really 12:05: I also nearly bit off like a third of my tongue too 12:05: I was a hungry kid 12:05: I fell and hit my chin OMEGALUL 12:07: OMEGALUL happy disability pride month 12:07: Ill be alright though 12:07: other from the pain the only thing is my legs just get really tired really fast now so i mustve like pulled a lot of muscles or somethin 12:07: I have wicked bruises ones like a super deep purple WICKED 12:10: i think i just broke my camera OMEGALUL 12:10: I have a replacement worry not 12:11: beats me its just not workingh 12:20: (replying to tazariagaming: "I'm so hype for everyone to see the Box you have no idea") the box is currently in transit OMEGALUL I could not fit it in my suitcase without crushing it 12:21: BUT I have everything that was inside of it! 12:30: miku mcc 3 years old today peepoWow 12:31: miku mcc 8 years ago peepoWow 12:31: first birthday stream 29 years old peepoWow 12:31: (replying to negitave_b: "RANBOOLIVE I HAVENT EVEN BEEN IN OFFLINE 3 YEARS, MIKU MCC WAS NOT 3 YEARS AGO"): wrong 12:32: firsxt mmccc 3 bc peepoWow 12:34: I was going to make the joke here but it was too good 12:42: Im crying at my tweet 12:42: its so funny ot me 12:43: (replying to whiteriiiice: "YARFING IS THE OPPOSITE OF EATING") I invented the word yarfing so i can use it whenever I want however I want ranbooFinger 12:44: Did I not 12:44: well 12:44: screw you guys its funny ranbooFinger 12:46: (replying to bioloveds: "@/RanbooLive, why do you have grammarly) to spell 12:54: who we banning? 12:54: nah]

[littleseasiren]

Fight for me - Part 7

Summary: After years in an abusive relationship, you finally get out. When the Avengers decide to raise awareness for your Woman’s Shelter, you bump into Bucky Barnes, the hottest, most complicated man you’ve ever met. He thinks you’re too good for him, but when your abusive ex reappears, Bucky knows he has to keep you safe - by any means necessary.

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader

Warnings: Language, angst, oral (fem receiving), smut (p in v)

Words: ~ 3500

A/N: Grammarly is my beta reader, so any mistakes are my own. I know nothing about hypnosis, so please ignore any mistakes. This is my first attempt at writing smut... Comments and reblogs will be appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Series Masterlist

You, Bucky, Wanda and Steve are in the hospital wing of the tower, visiting with Sam who was injured fighting the Winter Soldier when Tony enters the room. "I don't mean to break this... whatever this is, but I need the Sergeant," he indicates to Bucky as he starts walking out of the room.

"Wait, Tony! What's happening?" Steve asks from Sam's side.

Tony takes a deep breath and sighs loudly before he turns to the room. "I went through the camera feeds and it turns out Scott whispered something to the Winter Soldier before all hell broke loose. I'm pretty sure it was the location to take Y/N to. I need Bucky to tell me where it is so we can find those bastards and end this."

"Why don't you just ask Scott? Surely he can't be so tough?" Sam inquires.

"See, the thing is..." Tony runs his palm down his face rubbing his tired eyes, "we can't do that. He had a cyanide capsule and killed himself in the cell. We didn't know until he bit down and it was too late. The audio is too low, not even JARVIS can piece it together. So I need Bucky to remember."

You cringe to yourself as all eyes fall on Bucky. "But I don't remember him saying anything after triggering me... I tried going through the events in my mind but nothing pops up," Bucky says as he rubs the back of his neck.

"We thought you'd say that. It's natural to remember only the big events when you're the Soldier. Your thought patterns are different to his, after all. Bruce and I believe a form of hypnosis where you walk through the events step by step might be the best. Witnesses often remember more details when they're hypnotised in a relaxed environment. I'd ask Wanda to make it easier but I know you understandably wouldn't want anyone messing with your mind ever again."

A shudder runs through Bucky at the thought of being at someone else's mercy. "Yeah, sorry Wanda. Besides, I don't think you want to be anywhere near my fucked up mind..."

"Don't say that Bucky. Your mind is perfect," you say as you softly punch his arm.

"It's good. I honestly don't want to be in any of your weird minds unless it's unavoidable," Wanda says as laughs surround her. 

"Yeah, we are all pretty special in our own way!" Sam says softly, a huge smile on his face.

It's Steve that brings the conversation back to Tony. "The hypnosis, is it safe for him? There's no chance of it bringing the Soldier back?" Steve always has his best friend's back and wants to keep him safe.

"Since we won't be saying his trigger words, it should be safe."

"But it will be terrifying, being back in that mindset, Bucky. You need to decide." Wanda adds, earning a nod from Tony.

You can feel Bucky's heart racing when he pulls you to him and meets the other's gazes. "If it's the only way to stop this, then I guess we have to..."

"Maybe you shouldn't be here, doll," Bucky whispers in your ear as you enter the lightly illuminated room. "What if they're wrong and I hurt everyone?"

"You won't, handsome. Besides, I'm the only one Winter won't hurt, remember?" Bruce points to the couch and you and Bucky sit down. You grab his hand before whispering in his ear, "I'm with you Bucky. Just relax for me."

"Ok, let's get started. I need you to watch this pendulum and try to relax, alright? Just follow it with your gaze and when you feel sleepy close your eyes."

Bucky sighs before doing as you say and sinking into the couch, trying to relax. It was decided that Bruce would be the one to hypnotise Bucky. The strained relationship between Tony and Bucky would make it difficult for Bucky to relax.

Steve was seated in the corner of the room, behind the two of you, just in case things went wrong and his strength was needed, even if he was injured. He was the only one with a chance of surviving the Winter Soldiers' attack long enough.

Bucky nods to him, rubbing his sweaty right palm on his pant leg. After a few minutes of watching the pendulum, Bucky huffs in frustration. "I'm sorry, I just can't seem to relax." He leans his head on the couch and pinches his nose, his hands trembling with anxiety.

When Bruce looks at you, you can see he doesn't know how to calm the frustrated man next to you. You think for a moment before nodding to Bruce. "Maybe if you two left, he'd relax a bit more." You motion to Bruce to give you an earpiece to communicate with you. He nods before he leaves quickly and returns a few minutes later with what you need. 

"Are you sure Y/N?" Steve asks from the door. 

"Of course, I'm safe with him. Just give us some time to do this." With a last worried look, the two men depart, leaving you with an irritated Bucky.

"It's just the two of us now," you whisper to Bucky as you put the earpiece in your ear, hearing Bruce softly talking to you and informing you that they're watching from the camera.

You run your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp softly with your nails, making him smile at your touch. "Just relax for me handsome," you add as you move your hands from his scalp and rub his tense broad shoulders, massaging up into his neck, making him moan softly. "You can do this Bucky, I'll help you."

He nods before he pulls you into his lap, holding you close to him. "Ok, I'll try again."

You reach over and start the pendulum again, running your fingers down his veiny arm as he stares ahead, watching the moving object. "You're safe here Bucky. When you feel sleepy, just close those beautiful blue eyes for me."

In moments his eyes begin to drop as he leans against the couch and closes his eyes.

You repeat what Bruce says in your ear softly, hesitant to break Bucky's relaxing state. "Think back to earlier, when you woke up in the gym. Walk me through what happened."

"I was so tired, I just wanted to sleep, but someone wouldn't let me. He grasped my shirt and pulled me up, waking me from a deep sleep. I thought it was one of the guys, trying to wake me, but then I heard the words. If I was more awake, I would have tried to stop the voice but I was still a bit under. Wake enough to hear him but not enough to stop him. I felt so cold, so lonely."

Your heart breaks for the man you love but you continue, "What did he say after he activated you?"

"Destroy the Avengers and kill anyone that gets in your way. Bring Y/N to the Rumlows, unharmed." Bucky's voice is strained as he repeats to you what was said.

"What happened next?"

"I heard someone yelling before he pulled me back and whispered to me."

"What did he say?"

Bucky's eyelids move rapidly as he's deep in thought. He mentions an address in Queensbridge which makes both Bruce and Steve groan in your ear. 

"Did he say anything else?" You ask softly.

"No, he left before I engaged with Sam." Bucky's voice hitches, his anxiety about what happened with Sam overwhelming him as he twitches in thought.

"You did good, Bucky. I need you to wake up now."

When he opens his eyes they are full of pain and sadness. He pulls you to him and kisses you deeply, holding you to him for a moment to calm his racing mind. Slowly the two of you exit the room and meet Steve and Bruce in the hallway.

"We'll all get some sleep before we make a move on the venue tomorrow morning. It's a dangerous part of Queens so we need to be careful with how we handle the situation." Steve says as Bruce agrees with him.

"I'll have JARVIS run some scenarios while we all get some rest, and then we'll decide how to proceed tomorrow."

The two of you say good night to everyone before you walk to Bucky's rooms.

You pull Bucky into the bedroom before dropping his hand and moving to take off your shirt. This time you were going to be strong and go after what both of you wanted. You gasp the edges of your shirt and pull it off you, seeing the look of passion on Bucky's expression before he turns away abruptly. 

"You ok?" You ask as you step out of your pants, leaving you in just your bra and panties.

He doesn't face you as he replies with a soft, "yeah." He wipes the palms of his hands on his pants, avoiding looking at you.

"Bucky, what's wrong? I want to be with you." You move in front of him but his reaction still remains the same. Your breathing becomes rapid as you feel anxiety settle in your stomach. "Holy shit... you don't want me, do you?" Mouth gaping, you turn away from him, cupping your lips to stop a gasp of devastation. "You say you love me but..." You can't bring yourself to finish that sentence. Bucky was supposed to be one of the good ones, but was he just stringing you along for fun? 

He gasps your arm and steps closer to you, his chest against your back, stopping you from pulling your clothes on again. "Of course, I want you, kitten. I want you more than I want to breathe, and when I say I love you I mean it. Don't you ever question that." His voice is hoarse in your ears.

"Then what's wrong Bucky?" You turn to face him, pulling his arms around your back so he holds you close.

"I... I haven't done this in a long time, doll." His blue eyes are filled with concern as his shoulders haunch. "And I... I have scars Y/N. I'm not like Steve with his perfect skin and pretty looks. I don't want you to be repulsed by me..."

He looks so vulnerable in front of you that you just want to kiss him, so you do. You kiss him gently, showing him your love for him. "I've been with pretty boys before, and it didn't work out well for me." You cup his jaw with your hands, "You're handsome Bucky, and I love that. Tell me something - the scars - did you get them when you went on missions as the Winter Soldier?" If you knew how he got them, then maybe you could ease his anxiety a bit.

"A couple, yeah, but most of them were as a result of the... regime... they put me through to become him. When they deemed me important enough and they could control the Soldier, they gave me a shot to increase my healing abilities for the future, but by then I had a lot of scars that they decided were not important enough to fix."

"So you got your scars when you tried to fight back all those years? When you refused to bend to their will and hurt people?"

He leans into your palm, "I guess so, yeah." 

"You know what that tells me, Bucky? It shows me that you would rather have them hurt you than you would hurt someone else. That is the man that I love and want to be with. You help people, even when they're afraid of you or say ugly things about you. You care about the people around you, even if you think they just accept you due to your skills. Bucky, you made a kid's day by signing with him. You are amazing," you say as you softly begin to pull his shirt off of him, giving him time to stop you if he wanted to. 

Your eyes run over his powerful form, seeing the multitude of scars littering his chest before you bend down to run your tongue over each scar, wanting to replace the bad memories with good ones.  "I love you so much, my handsome Sergeant. These scars of yours are a testament to how much you've survived. What they did to you would have broken any other man. I'm honoured to call you mine."

Bucky is feral as his lips meet yours, kissing you feverishly as he pulls you to him, kissing the breath out of you. When you finally separate, you reach behind you to unclasp your bra but he stops you.

"Let me," he says as he pulls your bra straps down your shoulders before reaching his huge arms around your waist to unclasp your bra, watching with dark eyes as it falls to the floor, his gaze narrowing to your naked breasts. You moan as he cups them, one hand warm and the other cold, sending chills down your body. You look down between the two of you and see he isn't unaffected by your naked breasts as his erection stands proud between the two of you, straining against his pants.

"You fit my hands perfectly, doll. You were made for me," he growls in your ear, making you moan with need before moving his flesh hand down your body to cup you between your legs. "You're so wet for me, aren't you?"

"Only for you, Bucky." He kisses you as he walks you back to the bed. When you reach the edge, you climb onto the middle of the bed, pulling him with you.

He props himself on top of you, holding himself up by his knees and elbows. "Is this ok, doll? I don't want to frighten you."

"This is perfect, Bucky. I trust you and I know you won't ever hurt me."

He kisses you before working his way down your neck, stopping to cup your breast with one hand as he twirls his tongue around the other, sucking on you and making you arch your back as you hold onto his big shoulders. He moves to your other breast loving it equally before he moves down your body. He licks your belly button before curling his fingers around your panty and pulling it off you slowly, watching your eyes for any sign of hesitation.

He nudges your thighs open wider to make space for his wide shoulders. You gulp as his intentions become clear. God, how long has it been since someone gave you oral? Your ex had been more interested in his own pleasure than yours.

Your hands grasp onto Bucky's hair as he curls his hands around your inner legs and parts you with his thumbs, opening you up to his gaze before he lowers his head and licks you all over. He sucks on your clit then squeezes his tongue into your hole before licking up your slit again, his tongue doing magical things to your insides making you clench your legs around him.

"Bucky, please... I need to feel you. I need you inside of me," you pant as he licks your slit again.

He moves up and gives you a deep kiss, making you taste yourself on him. "I want that too, kitten. But I don't know how long I'll last when I'm inside you. I need you to come for me first." He kisses your belly button and then moves down again. "I need this to be good for you. Think you can come for me?"

You nod your head and moan as he starts licking you again, rolling his tongue over your clit before sucking deeply as he works a finger into you, making you squirm before adding another. 

He spreads his two fingers to stretch you out before he curls them and rubs the spongy spot deep inside you, crooking his fingers as he sucks on your clit. "Oh, God, Bucky!" You call as you come on his fingers, soaking them with your essence before you drop your head on the bed, the orgasm one of the biggest you've ever had before.

"That's it, kitten. You sound amazing when you come for me." His eyes are glazed with need as he pops the button on his pants. "I can't wait to be inside you." You reach out and move his hands away, grasping his pants zipper and pulling his pants down, his hard cock bouncing up to meet you. You gasp at the size of him. He really was big. He groans in delight as you wrap your small hands around his large erection, stroking him up and down, running your thumb over his slit making him shudder with need.

"Please, please! I need you Bucky!" You pull him to you, dripping with your need for him as you grasp his neck and kiss him like your life depends on it. You feel the head of his cock pushing into your entrance as you curl your legs around his waist. 

"Jesus, Y/N. You feel so fucking good." He pushes in deeper, inch by inch, making you whimper as you take all of him. "You're so warm and tight." He shudders at the pleasure being inside you gives him, biting his lip to keep still while you get used to his size. 

"You're so big Bucky." He leans in and kisses you, biting your lower lip as his hand moves down to your clit to rub you, helping you relax. 

"Move Bucky, please." You gasp as he pulls back before pressing into you a few times slowly, letting you get used to his large cock before he increases his pace, sweat beading on his brow from how good you make him feel.

He thrusts into you, moaning as you clench around him. "I'm not going to last long, kitten. I'm so sorry but you just feel so good." You see how he's trying to hold back, wanting to make you feel come again but it just feels so good to be inside you.

"It's alright Bucky. I want to make you feel good too." He drops his face into the crook of your neck, moaning into your ear as his breathing increases. You know he just needs a push before he'll orgasm, so you give it to him. You grab his ass and squeeze it before whispering in his ear seductively, "Come inside me, Sergeant." 

Your words make his balls pull up tight as he lets out a hoarse cry. His body trembles with his orgasm as he pulls you to him, his hips jerking as he spurts into you.

He falls onto you, bracing himself at the last moment to avoid crushing you. "Fuck kitten, you're going to kill me with that mouth of yours." 

Giggling, you wrap your hands around his shoulders before gasping in surprise. He's still so hard inside you.

"I'm sorry, kitten. I just need you so much." He pulls out a bit before thrusting into you again, your combined wetness making squelching noises as he slowly rekindles the need inside you. He grasps your hips and lifts you to a better angle, hitting your clit with every thrust. He kisses you, tongue swirling with yours as he shoves himself inside you over and over again. You wrap your hands in his long hair and pull softly, making him growl at the feeling. He slams into you, making you gasp before he slows down again, his body shaking with the effort to hold himself back.

"I can take you Bucky. You won't break me," you whisper before tugging his earlobe between your teeth, making his breath shudder. "I want to feel all of you."

He looks at you intensely before he grasps your hips and slams into you, making you cry out at the sensation his glorious cock creates against your wet walls. You feel the edge approach you before you scream out his name as you come, clenching his cock to you as you ride out your orgasm. 

"You're mine, you got that?" Bucky says as he rams his cock into you.

"I'm yours and you're mine, Sarge." Bucky's eyes widen, a growl slipping out of his mouth as he pulls you to him, licking your breast before he cries out and shoots his seed inside you.

He pulls out of you slowly, watching your combined juices drip off of you. "You're so fucking amazing kitten. I love you so much," he kisses you before standing up to grab a clean washcloth from the bathroom to clean you off. 

"I love you too Bucky," you reply as exhaustion overcomes you, your body still tingling from what your super soldier made you feel.

He pulls you to his side and wraps his arms around your naked body before the two of you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

Tag List: @morganmofresh @dottirose @cjand10 @buggy14 @crazyunsexycool @tripleoyaa @mandijo17​ @fluffysucker​

[urfavnegronerd]

nothing even matters- lauryn hill + d'angelo

sum slight 

warnings: i projected like a bitch in this because im anxious about school starting again, anxiety so like angst if you squint really really hard, fluffy, grammarly edited, lmk if i missed smth

pairings: miles g x shy black reader 

thoughts have an asterisks  (usually*

w/c:  2.24k ish

published: august 10, 2023

song lyrics are italicized 

now the skies could fall 

It wasn’t necessarily uncommon for you to panic when a teacher called on you during class. Especially, cold calls. So when third-period English rolled around, a class you typically had no problems in, and Mr. Wilson decided to call on you, your heart stopped. The familiar ice began to flow all through your veins as you gasped, eyes wide, and face on fire. The entirety of the class turned around to face you, your hands now unconsciously playing with your hair, touching your piercings, bouncing your leg, and sinking in your chair. It felt like your chest had both turned cold and dropped all at once, your eyes darting back and forth from Mr. Wilson in the door, *If I bolted now, would they call security?* 

“What prevented Yui from speaking on the phone until the very end?” Mr. Wilson repeats. 

It was a rather simple question, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer it. To make matters worse, you knew the answer, hell, the answer damn near wanted to roll off your tongue. 

“What prevented Yui from speaking on the phone until the very end?”  

This is the third time he’s asked this question. Your breathing begins to speed up, hot tears begin to prick at your eyes, and you anxiously begin to play with your hands. *I could make it to my dorm, safe and sound with a good five-second head start.*  

“The finality of it.” a voice answers from two seats to your left. “The finality of grief. She thought if she delayed talking on the phone, her daughter would come back. She thought that maybe the news was a mistake, given to the wrong person,” 

“Thank you, Mr. Morales. Moving on,” 

Before you hear the rest of the conversation, you shoot out of your chair, hastily grabbing the bathroom pass, and darting out of the classroom, not even bothering to ask permission.  

Slamming the door to the single-stall restroom, ensuring to lock the door, you sink to the floor, defeated. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, it was just a stupid little question you idiot,” You seethe, resting your head on the wall behind you. “Can you not be awkward for a second?” 

The prick of tears you had felt in Mr. Wilson's room, gently poke out of your eyes and down your cheeks, leaving delicate and hot streaks in their wake. 

Three knocks are heard on the door. If you didn’t say anything, they’d probably go away, the blazing red ‘occupied’ was currently displayed on the door’s exterior in the slit of the cool silver lock.  

“Hello?” 

Don’t move. Don’t say a word. They’ll go away. 

“I saw you run in here,” 

Shit. Someone saw, a whole class of people saw you freeze up like a deer caught in headlights, as if you aren’t almost 16 years old.  

“Right, you’re not a talker,” 

Embarrassment heats you like a furnace and you bury your head in your hands.  

“I’m Miles if that’s any help,” 

His voice is firm, calm, cool, collected, and kind of nonchalant. Almost comforting to be spoken to without someone using the voice, as if you were stupid.  

“Can you come out? It’s weird talking to a bathroom door,” 

Still glued to your place on the floor, you dig your nails into your palms. 

“That’s fine, I get it,” 

You felt bad, he was just being nice, right? 

“Do you want me to stay out here? Can you like knock once for no and twice for yes?” 

Timidly, you knock twice on the door. 

“Cool. I don’t really talk, either, but I’ll just sit here.” 

Very slowly you scooch over to your side of the door and press your back against it, tucking your knees under your chin. You can hear his soft and abrupt laugh from the other side of the door, he undoubtedly saw the slightest bit of your shadow. 

You both just sit like that, for about ten minutes. You enjoyed the silence and the feeling that you weren’t alone, and having someone just felt nice. From what it felt like, he wasn’t judging you, at least you didn’t think. 

Pushing yourself off the floor and making your way to the sink, you lightly splash cold sink water onto your face and thoroughly wash your hands, scrubbing your knuckles as if you could scour everything away and leave an empty canvas; one that could be painted with bright colors, happiness, flowers, and extroversion. It doesn’t work. Defeated, you sigh and pat your raw hands with scratchy brown paper towels and unlock the door. 

You’d never really seen him before, or at least not fully registered his presence. 

“Tight braids,” he mumbles. Subconsciously you tug at the tail ends of your cornrows in hand and blush. 

“Thanks,” you whisper. And then he’s gone to god knows where. 

not even if my boss should call  

It had been several months since ‘the incident’, which is what the two of you called it, and life had moved on. You and Miles had gotten to be really good friends, which worked out in your favor because now teachers would pair the two of you together without question, so neither of you had to deal with people you didn’t like. This particular project was for art class, the two of you were to study the object permanence of urban life. This project had been assigned for two months, the concept the two of you came up with was standing side to side on a corner each day for the past two months. As the term had slowed down to a close, you and Miles were stationed at his desk, editing, with the help of youtube and a school-issued Photoshop account. 

“That corner looks a different color than this one, Miles,” 

“I think it's supposed to,” 

“Oh, the light distribution?” 

“Yeah, at least I’m pretty sure,” 

“Miles!” his mother shouted, walking into his room while adjusting the thin gold chain that adorned her neck. “I’m going to work, call me if you need anything, ¿entiendes?” 

“Have a good shift, Mrs. Morales,” your voice barely above a whisper. Not wanting to pressure you into repeating anything, the two of you had gotten to know each other the past few months, she raised her eyebrows, smiled, and looked at Miles for help. 

“Have a good shift, Mamá,” 

“Ah, thank you. Bye, Miles, I see you later, yes?” 

“Sí, Ma, I love you,” 

“I love you too,” and with a quick wave, she’s off and out the door. 

Returning your attention to the laptop on his desk, you rest your head on your hand, slowly drinking in your surroundings. It wasn’t like you had never been into Miles’ room before, oh no, you’d seen it, just not as in detail as you see it now. He didn’t have as many tchotchkes as what would have been expected for someone his age. Instead, there was a pretty decent collection of sneakers and shoes, mostly Jordans, Adidas top tens, or Timberlands. You liked that there were shoes instead of trinkets. Tilting your head to the side, you look at him with a certain intensity.  

the world it seems so very small  

It wasn’t like you hadn’t realized Miles was attractive in the time that the two of you spent together, because you definitely did. It was hard not to notice, but you thought it would just go away. You were just friends. That’s all. Although you indubitably wanted more, you also wanted to keep your friend. The friend that had an astounding amount of patience with you, waiting until you spoke up just enough for the fast food worker to hear you or ordering for you with no questions asked, nudging or signaling you to speak up during class, and would only repeat what you’d say if the teacher had asked you to repeat what you had said more than three times. Three was the limit with you. If it didn’t work by three, it wouldn’t work, period. 

And, maybe it’s just the fact that he genuinely had the patience to get to know what made you anxious and what didn’t, but you were attracted to him. To the point where his room, the very room you were in now, that smelled completely normal–peppermint, sandalwood, and some sort of cologne musk you’d recognized from him– felt like another world. Like you were transported to somewhere that the two of you just existed, and that here in whatever limbo, whatever dimension, there was nothing odd or strange about you. You were just you, funny, smart, artistic, and a reader, you weren’t that freak who couldn’t talk. You were just you. 

You’d felt a little bad, though. Were you being codependent? Was your presence too much for him? That’s what scared you the most, that secretly you were his little charity case that he wanted to nurse back to health, to normalcy, and that the friendship you’d so easily cultivated wasn’t real. 

Was it a friendship though? You’d been conscious of the way that he looked at you at times, especially that one time in the rain, when you had a newspaper that you’d swiped from the bodega covering your braids, whereas he had a regular rain jacket. He looked like he had just watched the first flower of spring bloom, his mouth was fighting a smile, dimples deepening the slightest bit. But, you were also the one noticing the way he looked at you. You were noticing each other, and that scared you. 

Bringing yourself back to the moment, grounding yourself, you turn to look at Miles’ now distracted figure. Sure, he was still looking at the pictures for your project, but he wasn’t really doing anything. Just looking. Was he looking at you? What would it have mattered if he was? The two of you were friends, nothing more nothing less. 

But the way you were looking at him now though, you could be sure that this was not how friends looked at each other. You were almost inspecting him, the very small, barely noticeable, gold studs in his ears, and the thin yet durable gold chain around his neck. His chain basically matched Rio’s, and admittedly, you thought it was cute, sweet even. That this boy who mainly spoke in clear and concise sentences, the boy who had a cold wall up, matched chains with his mom. You’d wondered about it, the chain, you never really pegged him for a jewelry kind of guy, more like a hair clip jewelry if anything. You’d been wrong, but you didn’t mind it. Not this time. 

Suddenly, you weren’t in control of your movements at all, you had found yourself timidly reaching out to touch his necklace. It was pretty. And definitely overstepping a boundary. Or so you thought? He didn’t really react, other than slightly raising his head in acknowledgment. 

“It was my dad's,” oh. He never really spoke about his dad or what happened to him. “It matches my mom’s chain.” 

“That's really sweet,” 

You had just now realized how close the two of you were, your face practically in front of his shoulder. You could smell him. Today wasn’t a cologne kind of day, more like a clean day. He smelled like hair oil, and a bit like rosemary. It was intoxicating. 

Instantaneously he jolts his head to the side, not expecting you to be right there 

“Hey– oh. Hi.” 

The air around the two of you changes, and you begin to study his face. Like, really study his face. The subtle underline of his cheekbones, the slight curvature of his cupid's bow, and the width of his nose. It wasn’t like his nose was oddly shaped, it seemed oddly symmetrical, in fact. Like both ends resemble the arc of a pair of parenthesis.

He slowly begins to lean in, very slowly, his breathing erratic and uneven. Sitting up, slowly you look at him quizzically. 

“You’re breathing weird” you whisper, only this time, you’re not anxious about talking out loud. This time, it’s a genuine whisper, a whisper with an inkling of tranquility, softness; peace. You hadn’t felt peace in so long. 

Miles continues to lean in, eyes darting in between your eyes and your lips. Oh, how he adored your lips, the gentle scent of strawberry from your chapstick, how they were barely two-toned, just slightly different shades of pink. How your bottom lip was bigger than the top lip, how there was always a small recoil after you had been biting your lips. 

It felt as if you were floating on a hazy euphoric cloud, you weren’t worried about your next move, or the next thing you were going to say. Softly, you bring your hand to rest on the left side of his collarbone. It jumped out slightly at the very end, but it was a delicate asset he had, gentle bone structure barely noticeable under the loose black tee he was wearing. 

“Your heart,” you croak “I can feel your heart.” 

At this point, the two of you were inches apart, halted, waiting for the other to make the next move. A small and genuine smile plays at the corner of his lips. 

“I can feel your breath” he whispers. 

The gap between the two of you closes, your hand still resting on his chest, his cradling your right cheek.

cause nothing even matters at all

taglist: @mayeluvsu @masaidabest @miguellover6969 @zo3ez @lunarfleur @nagi3seastorm @cuichichan @kombuuuu @hearts4hobie

🩷 reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3

xoxo,

rae <3

[jessybarnes]

Tell Them, Honey

Title: Tell Them, Honey

Pairing: Stucky x F!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1,235

Tags: Angst, fluff, pining, Steve and Bucky are concerned, Natasha is plotting, Stucky, drinking, metal arm kink, implied fingering, implied sex, explicit language, and I think that's it.

Written For: @comfortember and @stuckybingo

Square(s) Filled: I5 - Metal Arm for Stucky Bingo

Comfortember Day 12: Concern

Beta(s): Just Grammarly

It isn't fair.

How does Fury expect you to focus on anything as an assistant when you're tasked to work with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes?

The moment you met them, you were knocked off of your feet... almost literally.

You were running late to your first day of work after being stuck in traffic. You'd rushed off the elevator and down the hallway toward the conference room to try and get to your morning meeting on time. Right as you rounded the corner, you smacked into Steve's hard chest and lost your balance. If it hadn't been for Bucky catching you, you'd have hit the floor.

Now, almost two years later, you're just as head over heels for them as you were then, if not more so. It's no secret that the two super soldiers are a couple. They've been together for years, and you'd be lying if you said you haven't thought about what it would be like to be fucked by both of them.

It's a miracle that you've been able to hide your feelings for them this long. Normally, you're easy to read, but maybe it's because everyone you work for and with is always so busy.

Tonight is one of the rare occasions where everyone has the evening off, and Tony, of course, isn't letting it go to waste.

It's nothing formal, but you're still in a shimmery cocktail dress, courtesy of Natasha. She practically had to drag you here, and you haven't left the bar since everyone started arriving.

You scan the crowd and smile at all of the familiar faces. Thor, Loki, Stephen, Bruce, Wanda, Vision, Tony, Pepper, Peter, and so many others seem to be having the time of their lives, and after all they do for the world, they deserve it.

Natasha makes you another rum and coke and slides it down the bar into your hand. You swirl the dark liquid around for a moment and bring the glass to your lips just as Steve and Bucky walk up to order a drink.

"Hey, Nat! Can Bucky and I get some of that stuff Thor always drinks?"

Your eyes drag over their muscular frames and you bite your lip. It really should be a crime to look as good as they do. Steve leans against the bar and smiles at you, his action making Bucky turn around. His metal hand brushes your knee and your breath hitches.

"Oh! I'm sorry, doll. I didn't realize how close I was to you."

Natasha rolls her eyes and begins preparing their drinks. It's a wonder that these two haven't picked up the signs because she certainly knows you want them. Hell, she's stood here and watched you oogle them for the past five minutes. Add this to the list of all the other times, and well, it doesn't take a genius to see that you're infatuated.

You set your drink down with a shaky hand and look down at your lap. "It-It's umm... it's okay..." Smooth...real smooth, Y/N. Now he's going to think you're hurt or something.

Bucky furrows his brow, "hey, are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Yep...real fucking smooth. Now you have to talk to them again.

Steve reaches over and tilts your head up with two of his fingers, "you can always tell us anything, sweetheart. Just because you're our assistant doesn't mean you're beneath us."

"I-I'm not hurt. I've just ah...had a long day and am pretty tired."

They don't look convinced, but at least they don't push you any further. Natasha hands over their drinks and shoos them away. Once they've crossed the room she leans across the bar so only you can hear her.

"Tell them, honey."

You choke on your drink, "t-tell who what?"

"Oh, don't play me for a fool, Y/N. You're not as subtle as you think, babe. I, literally, just watched you practically drool over Rogers and Barnes in real time, and it's not the first time either."

You glance over at them for a moment. They're laughing with Thor about something and it makes your heart skip when Bucky leans over to peck Steve on the cheek.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

She sighs and wipes down the bar top with a damp towel, "staring, Y/N."

You shake your head, "Nat, I can't tell them! They're in a relationship already and it doesn't look like they want to add someone else to the picture. Plus, I don't think they even swing my way, so..." You trail off and she points a finger at you.

"Natasha!" You squeak and blush furiously.

"Those two may have been around for over a century, but I can promise you that they've been with a woman before. I can speak from experience with one of them, and the other may have had a few late nights with one of the USO girls."

You gawk at her as she smirks, "you...you mean... w-with umm...you...Bucky?"

She chuckles and pours herself a martini. "Yes, James and I...we were a thing once. It hasn't happened in years though. Not since Steve got his head out of his ass and told Bucky how he felt. Which you also need to do if I'm being honest." She brings the glass to her lips and smirks again, "oh, and his metal fingers? Fucking fantastic."

"What? I'm sure Steve will agree with me." Her smile widens and she nods over your shoulder. "Let's ask him, shall we? Looks like he's coming over for another round."

You give her a pleading look, "no! Oh, my god...please don't ask him!"

"Ask me what?"

Steve leans against the bar and glances between the two of you quizzically. He notes your flushed skin and shaky hands again and grasps your wrist gently, your pulse thrumming against his fingertips.

"Jesus, sweetheart, you're shaking like a leaf. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

You open your mouth to answer him, but Natasha beats you to it.

"Oh, she's fine! I was just telling her how skilled Bucky is with those metal fingers of his. You agree with me, right Steve?"

The blonde super soldier looks deep into your eyes and you swear you see them darken a fraction.

"So, you're curious about Bucky's arm, hm?"

"Who's curious about my arm?" The man himself comes up behind Steve and wraps his flesh hand around his waist.

Oh, god...just please let the ground open up and swallow me whole...

You bury your face in your hands and shake your head. "Just, please...forget I was even here. I-I'm sorry... I'm just gonna go to bed."

As you get up to leave, Steve steps into your path and blocks your way. The smirk on his face doesn't ease your mind in the least bit.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I think we should talk about this, Y/N. Bucky deserves to know what you and Natasha have been talking about over here, now don't you agree?"

Bucky raises an eyebrow curiously, and you nervously play with your hands, "I...um...yes?"

"Good girl," Steve praises and places his big hand on the small of your back.

"Come on, doll, we'll walk you to your room."

Bucky puts an arm on your shoulder and Natasha watches as the three of you head off toward the elevators.

She chuckles and shakes her head, "and my work here is done."

Tagging: @sarahrogersevans @chrisevansdaughter @brandyywar @nerdygingermoose88