#he'll have his lower pair of arms out so he can work on the drink orders

[crabsnpersimmons]

I- I'll order whatever Chef Eclipse recommends... 🩵

Btw, your artstyle is so so soft and I just wanna HUG it! Your work is so beautiful and your ideas are awesome! Keep being amazing and be sure to take breaks when you need to! ✨

awww thank you Scar!! you're too kind 🥰🥰

here's Eclipse's response:

Eclipse: Any allergies or food restrictions I should take note of? I do want you to enjoy your meal, after all. Shall I start you off with a drink? How about something refreshing? Maybe something fizzy?

[notiddygothgf]

Boyfriend | Aki Hayakawa

★ pairings: aki x f!reader

★ synopsis: being aki's favorite girl has many perks.

★ a/n: i couldnt stop thinking about boyfie!aki omfg... brainrot.

★ c.w.: fluff, nicknames, smut(ish). no beta we die like... ahem.

1. He's thoughtful!

Aki is notoriously attentive when it comes to his line of work, but nothing compares to how attentive he is when it comes to you and your needs. He can read you like a book. It's just something about those eyes of yours, something about the way you look at him that tells him all that he needs to know about you -- he's got you all figured out.

When it's a party or a work event, he can see your expression a mile away. You would be perched in the corner, anxiously swirling your drink around. He'd reach an arm around you, pulling you close enough that your shoulders would bump into his chest. "Do you want to leave?" He'd ask. And how could you refuse -- when he made it sound so tempting?

He'll remember little things about you -- the shows you like, your favorite foods, your favorite fabrics to wear. His brain is like a little notepad, full of facts about you. When you're having a particularly, bad day, he'll bring home a container of your favorite soup from the place up the street he knows you love. He'll treat you to trinkets and sweaters (sometimes printed with the name of the last town he visited on the mission, sometimes they were his) and whatever stupid little thing makes him think of you (seriously, he brought you a rock with googly eyes from a gift shop in Shibuya once because, and quote, "It reminds me of you").

He knows your body like the back of his hand; knows where you like being kissed, touched, caressed, held. He knows you like it's second nature, like you're an extension of himself.

2. He can cook

You're grateful for that, considering that if he couldn't cook, the two of you would have been completely fucked. You're about as gifted in the kitchen as a toddler with a wooden spoon.

It's okay though. He doesn't mind. He loves cooking for his pretty girl. Curry, Stews, Rice, Chicken -- whatever your little heart desires (or whatever he's decided is on the menu for tonight). And he's good at it, too. He's got a real talent for cheffing it up. The kind of talent that makes you moan words of praise through mouthfuls of food while you chow down.

"You like it?" He'd ask, a teasing lilt tinging his words.

"Fuckin' perfect," You'd reply, voice muffled by mounds of food. "You got a gift."

He wouldn't have believed it had it come from anyone else. But for you? He would have to make an exception.

He only wished he could make enough for you to take leftovers. With two ravenous roommates, however -- the kind that scarf down just about everything but the plate -- that was kinda hard.

(Still, whenever he could, he would sneak a few extra servings into some containers to give to you.).

3. Super Affectionate

You love it when he comes home to you. You love it when he collapses into your arms and wraps his strong arms around you, swaddling you entirely with his warmth. You love when he takes you out with him -- takes you shopping, takes you on dates, takes you on grocery runs to get a brief moment of peace from his roommates.

Aki is nothing if not proud of his girlfriend. Though usually quite timid and stoic, he has no qualms about claiming you in public. (sometimes in a family bathroom stall, if it's one of those days). He'll walk around with his hand on your lower back, your waist, your hip, your ass -- whatever he can get ahold of to let the world know that you're his.

It's usually you who initiates the PDA. He's the one who runs with it.

It'll start with a kiss to his lips, his jaw, his neck, his nose. That's all it takes for him to be pulling you in for more, suddenly rather careless about who sees the two of you. He'll ask you for a kiss. Then another. Then another. Then one last one (it's a trap).

And you, being the lovestruck idiot that you are, you'll stand up on your tippy toes and give him all of the kisses you can muster.

At work parties, you're never far from him -- never out of his line of sight. He said something about his coworkers being "dogs", but you had yet to experience even a double glance in your direction. Being with Aki was like having a bodyguard.

He loves it the most when you sit on his lap. He'll pull you close to him by the waist, hugging your legs from where he's seated. He'll let you entertain his drunken coworkers for a few minutes, perhaps even a few comments from Denji about your looks, and then he'll tug you down to take a seat where you belong (in his lap. no one else's. his lap).

Your pretty face would flush for a moment, stuttering to find the words to continue what you had been saying. He didn't care about anyone else when you were around -- you made him needy. Still, he would hide his blushing face in your neck, your shoulder. Breathe in the scent of your expensive perfume, the scent of your skin that was so uniquely you.

Baby, he'd call you.

Princess, Mama, Angel face.

He couldn't keep the pet names away. It was what gave your relationship away to everyone to begin with, after all. It had been a small meeting with a few Devil Hunters, only two beers in, and you had handed him his third.

"Thanks, Baby," He murmurred, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he tilted his head back. His eyes widened the moment he realized what he had done.

"Baby?" Himeno repeated.

"Baby?" Denji echoed.

"Like, an infant?" Power chimed in. Denji went to explain.

Aki sputtered profusely, hurried chants of, "Wait, wait--" leaving his lips. And you would just laugh, letting him feel the backlash from his coworkers.

"You are dating! I fuckin'-- HIC! -- knew it!" Himeno pumped her drink in the air. "You lyin' little shit."

Not like the way he looked at you didn't give it away from the beginning.

4. Way with words

He loves to spoil his girl. Not just with money (although he certainly doesn't hesitate to buy you whatever your heart desires, or to send you a couple thousand to treat yourself to something nice).

He spoils you with his words, with his saccharine tongue that overflows with pretty things the moment the two of you are alone.

"My pretty girl," He'll say. "Only mine. Only for me."

"Only for you," You'll say back.

He has a certain way with words. Perhaps it's the bluntness of it that makes you fall harder for him. He never hesitates to tell you exactly what's on his mind.

It's a whisper of, "I love you," against your cheek.

It's a grumble of, "Want you," while he leaves fleeting touches of your waist and hips.

And God, he knows how to talk your panties right off.

Lips pursed around a cancer stick, he'll breathe out everything you want to hear.

"'M gonna marry you some day," He'd say. "If I don't, I'll die trying."

"I love the way you look in that dress."

"Your eyes look so pretty."

"You take me so well, pretty."

Whoops. Did I let that last one slip out?

Well, then, I suppose that leads me to number 5.

5. Fantastic Lover

Aki is gifted in a multitude of ways. One of your personal favorites? His hands. His hands on your face, your chest, your lips -- his rough grip on your hips while he devours you.

He loves to spoil you with his attention. Sometimes, that means he'll have you clawing at the bed with anticipation before he even thinks about going faster.

"Can't rush perfection," he'd say.

And you'd tell him, "Shut up and fuck me."

He can't get enough of you. On the bed, on the floor, on the kitchen counter while everyone is still asleep -- he's addicted to the taste of you whenever he can have it. He loves the way you fall apart around him, around his tongue, hips jumping up to ride his face.

He's told you he'd die a happy man if you crushed him. You think that might be the truth.

His fingers are long and thick -- a little calloused, but none the less gentle as they press against your neck, as they slip into your needy pussy. He works you open like it's his job, effortlessly finding that spongy place inside of you that makes you gasp out for him, makes you clutch at his inky black hair as he leans in to give you an experimental lick.

You love his tongue. Devilish thing he is, he'll eat you out for his own pleasure -- until you're clawing at him, tugging the sheets off of the corners, leaving a trail of wetness on his fingers. He has this way of sucking and fucking you so divinely that you forget your name -- suddenly, the only one you can think of is his.

"Aki..." You'd whine. Quietly, still, but getting a little louder while you crept closer and closer to your peak.

"Quiet, Baby," He would hush you, adjusting your legs over his shoulders while he devoured you. "Don't want anybody to hear you, hmm?"

He'll eat you out until you're begging for more, pleading for him.

And then, if you've been good, he'll give it to you -- all of him, everything he has to offer. He'll pound you so far into the mattress that the next morning, when you get up to eat breakfast with him and his roommates, you can do nothing but avoid eye contact at all costs, limping into the kitchen and sitting down slowly (lest you hurt your tender back, the one he'd blown out).

"Rough night?" Denji had asked you once, munching on a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

You swallowed thickly, nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the way you were glancing between him and Aki, whose back was turned to the three of you while he finished cooking.

You scooped some eggs onto your plate, taking a bit onto your fork and shoveling it into your mouth (to give you an excuse to not reply).

But you'd be found out soon enough.

"Sure sounded like it," Power added, tilting her head at you. "Were you injured?"

Aki choked, but disguised it with a cough.

You quirked your brow. "No, why?"

Denji looked up at that, pausing to swallow before he gave his two cents. "You sure?" He asked (teasingly). "We could hear you crying out from down the hall."

You choked on your egg. Aki turned the stove off, whipping his head around to promptly whack Denji on the back of his head with the spoon he had just been stirring up eggs with.

a/n: hiiii! just a quick little drabble. i've been on a csm craze for the last week! (aki's been getting me through the week long period of grief that follows a brutal midterm week). feel free to request some more (reqs say closed but ill do it for my king aki....) who knows! if u guys like it enough (and maybe beg real nicely) i mightttt do another part (or publish this 45 page aki smut i've been sitting on lololosdjfkg). comment and reblog ur thoughts!! i love reading them.

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

credits: idk the cover pic artist. If you know them, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work! I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

wanna join the csm taglist?

[mariaace]

So this is love? (Ft. Windbreaker)

Summary: Cute moments. That's all.

A/n: uhh so like i might do this for also haikyuu and my bestie @dazailoveschuuya suggested an idea for blue lock that i will probably write so stay turned!

Pairings: Sakura, Suo, Kaji, Kiryu

Warnings, before everyone's part.

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Sakura Haruka

Sakura was never good with affection. This was his first relationship amd everyone knew that. Even after some time in the relationship, even after you showed him what affection is, he still couldn't handle it without blushing like crazy. But he admits, it felt nice, bot that he'll ever say it. The problem is tho, how does he asks for affection?

"Hm? What is it Haru?" You look over at Sakura, who's staying right in front of you at the moment. His arms spread out just for you to fit against his body. He thinks it's obvious, that's how you hug...right? You hugged him a lot of times, that's how you do it. So why are you not getting it?

You look at his confused and flustered face and can't hold back a chuckle anymore. You step a few steps closer to him and just press your self against him, arm wrapping around his neck and resting on his shoulders.

He freezes for a moment, then slowly wraps his slightly shaky arms you. It feels...nice- he thinks.

"You know you can just ask me when you want a hug, right?" ".... I don't know how to.. especially if we're in front of someone.." You thought for a moment. Yeah, Sakura can barely hear the word kiss without blushing like crazy, then an idea pops in your mind. "Then give me some kind of signal. Whatever you feel like will grab my attention so that i know, that way you won't have to say anything."

From then on, every time he felt clingy, he tugged gently at the sleeve of your cloth. You always knew what he meant. (Not that he wasn't still flustered tho.)

Suo Hayato

(reader implied in another school)

Suo always knows what you need. You don't even have to tell him. But why is that? Because he can read people easily, especially you. He knows you like the back of his hand. So he often does thinks to you before you even ask for them. But how does the Suo Hayato reacts when you do something for him?

His school day just ended after some time on patrol with Sakura and Nirei. The two of them went on their way after the trio said goodbye to each other. Suo on the other hand, decided to stop off by the little café next to your school, since he saw a text from you telling him you've finished.

After he responded back, he started walking, quickly arriving at his destination. He smiled when he saw you on one of the tables with your homework books open. He walked over behind you and lowered his head next to yours. "Homework?" You turned your head to the side, seeing your boyfriend. "Yeah, sit across, I'm almost done and then I'll tell you about my day."

He did exactly as he said, but his eyes narrowed at the cup of tea, covered with a little plate in front of him. "Since when do you drink this type of tea-?" "Oh no, that's for you, i have my own right here." "..oh." Well that was certainly unexpected. The tea was still hot, because of the little plate that you put on top, that he just removed and took a sip of his drink.

Exactly. How. He. Likes. It. He smiled at you, even tho you were concentrated on your notebook. He mumbled a quite thanks under his breath and waited for you to finish.

Kaji Ren

Flavour of his lollipops? Uhh, he would have usually said that he doesn't care, he just likes his lollipops. But when you asked him? How did this conversation even begin in the first place? Why was he still listening to this? And most importantly, why did he agreed on that? He honestly can't tell, but he's doing it now.

"I never understood how your brain works." Kaji told you. This is what? His fifth lollipop today? And each one was with a different flavour. Why? Because you asked him if the different flavours made him 'taste different'. He thought it was a stupid idea. He genuinely did. But when he saw the look of excitement in your eyes when he said yes...

So here he is now, with a strawberry lollipop in his hand and you kissing him nonstop. "Hm, I think i like this one best." You thought for a moment. "Or maybe the raspberry.." "You haven't even tried the lollipops?" "I don't have to, i have you right here." You gave him a sly smile and went back to your thinking.

"The strawberry one is the best flavour." "But I actually like the raspberry on you." "Because you haven't tried the actual one." You still didn't give up on your assumption tho. That's when Kaji was the one who got idea. He looked over at the lollipop at his hand and the next thing you knew, it was in your mouth.

"See?" He gently pulled his arm, attempting to pull it away from you, when you suddenly didn't let go of it. He raised an eyebrow at you. "I count that as another kiss for your information." He groaned at your words. "But yeah, you were right, it's the better one."

After that, he always got strawberry flavoured lollipops.

Kiryu Mitsuki (fem!reader)

Kiryu is a gentleman. (Yes, I'll say it every time i post about him.) He knows what a girl wants and needs. And he is confident in his knowledge and experience. But then you decided out of nowhere to surprise him. How did he react on that? Perhaps positive?

Kiryu is known by all for his way of treating girls. At there really is a reason for that. He loves treating with you such respect, always doing things for you, and the way you react to all this? It warms his heart every time. Especially when it's in front of others.

Today tho, was a different say. Because you decided it's time to show him wat it's like, because he deserves it for being such a sweet boyfriend. So today when you two walked into the place of meeting up you opened the door for him. His face was priceless...and very cute in fact. He smiled slyly, thanked you, and walked in.

After that, you kept doing the things that he usually do, payed for the stuff, stood at the out side of the road, fixed the strand of his hair. It honestly felt so new to him, but he loved the way it felt.

At the end of your date (where you walked him to his house), he turned to you and thanked you specifically for all the things today. "I loved that. But i still prefer it to do them for you, because i get to see your cute reactions every time i do something." At that comment you nudged him playfully. "Now that wasn't very gentleman-like from you." You both laughed, and that's how your date ended.

Maybe he liked it a bit too much when you did those...

© mariaace 2024 please do not copy, translate, steal or claim any of my works.

@dazailoveschuuya @transmascaraa @nyxypoo

[arcanesea]

blossom

PAIRING: bang chan x f!reader GENRE: fluff WC: 0.9k WARNINGS: none, just kisses:] a/n. [based on this request ! my brain never worked so quick when i saw a prompt. everyone say thank you anon for requesting heheh. also, sorry for taking so long to get back to you, dear anon😞]

“A penny for your thought?” Chan asked, taking a seat right next to you, making your whole body shiver when his arms brushed yours. You turned your head slightly, eyes landing quickly on the thing under his nose. You blink before forcing a smile. Act normal, please, act normal.

You really can’t.

It’s not like you haven’t been kissed by him, who has been your boyfriend for the last couple of months. But it hits differently when you dream about a specific kissing scene. Maybe it was the influence of numerous romance dramas you watched, combined with the fact that you can’t get enough of his kiss. Maybe you’re going crazy. Crazy in love. Or it’s a mix of both.

“A penny is too cheap,” you replied jokingly, trying to not sound too nervous. You don’t dare to look at him again because your heart is starting to go thump-thump-thump under your ribcage and one look at Chan might just give you a heart attack on site.

The thing is you can’t get the image out of your head. The dream you had last night. Of you and Chan. Kissing. Under the rain.

It always looks so romantic on TV, but you hate that the majority of them always start after a heated argument. You understand the desperation, you understand the appeal of the angst, but the dream you had last night was just… so… sweet.

“A kiss?” he offered leaning in your direction with a playful smile. Your eyes widen and you can feel heat spread across your face. Chan laughed a little before teasing you even more, making you stand up from the sofa. “You’re blushing, you know that? Haven’t I kissed my beautiful girlfriend today?” he asks, following you to the kitchen where you take a glass of water and drink it hastily. Praying that it could cool you down.

You glance out the window. These days the skies have been a bit moody and then as if on cue, it starts to rain.

Chan’s hand snake on your waist, hugging you from behind. The gears on your head are turning. You had to bring that image to life even if that meant you’ll catch a cold afterwards. But how? You can’t directly say to him that you want to kiss under the rain… It feels so childish… Besides, it will just catapult his ego out of this planet and he'll bring it up to you on all possible occasions.

“Where are you?” Chan asked, pressing a kiss on the side of your temple. It feels like the contact of his lips and your skin turned on the switch in your brain.

You turned to face him, leaning in closer until your nose met each other. His eyes fluttered close, but you use that moment to escape his strong arms into the front door. In the back of your head, you can see him with a lowered head, hands on both hips, all while trying not to smile at your sudden prank. You let yourself roam the road, feeling the rain turn from a drizzle into a more constant shower.

Chan followed you out but made no movement to join you who started to run around in the empty road. It’s been ages since you voluntarily stand under the rain and actually enjoy it. The rain always does an excellent job of washing away your worries for a while.

You stopped, with hands outstretched to him. Inviting. Waiting. Please take the bait, please take the bait, you wished. “Catch me if you can,” was the word you half-shouted to him.

He raised his eyebrow, seemingly unamused. It’s a mental game, waiting around on who can stand being five feet away from each other. But like every other time, he loses this one too when he stepped out from the porch into the pouring rain.

You dodged him when he tried to trap you in a hug, laughing like a little kid. When you look at him, you swear that he’s the prettiest thing on earth. He’s like a flower who just gets watered; vibrant, full of colors. And his smile, God, his smile is enough for you to stand under the rain forever.

You give up at last. Letting him attack you with tickles all over your body.

“I admit defeat,” you try to squeeze in between laughs. He stopped tickling without taking his hands off your waist. Pulling you closer and turning you to face him. “Hi,” you said when you finally met Chan face to face.

“You’re having too much fun for someone who might complain about their cold and runny nose the next couple of days, babe,” he said. You just smile sheepishly before tiptoeing to give him a quick kiss. “That’s it?” he asks back. You nodded in reply. He tch-ed, head dipped to meet your trembling lips. You circle your hand on his neck as he lifts you up from the ground, spinning you around a bit. His lips taste like the honey chapstick he uses, warm against your own.

“That’s definitely better than my dream,” you admit with a wide smile. You’re cradling his head, forehead pressed against each other. Chan laughs earnestly, finally seeing behind the curtains.

“Next time you have some romance scenarios in your head, just tell me,” Chan offered. You roll your eyes, still holding the smile on your face.

What once woke you up from your sleep now becomes the image you see before you close your eyes. A thousand times better than any scenes you ever watch and definitely worth the cold that comes after too.

a/n. i wrote this in like 2 hours i didn't know how it got this long maybe i just missed him a little too much:/

[leovaldezluvr]

"my honeybee, come and get this pollen!"

synopsis : hc's of leo valdez and his gf !!

pairing : leo valdez x daughter of apollo!reader

warnings : swearing / cursing, intentional lower case writing, kissing, nothing crazy tho!

requested ? yes! by the amazing @sunnitheapollokid 😚

masterlist : coming soon!

nai yapps : HI BABIES 🤭 first time writing hcs, hope ya like!! it turned out longer than expected so yeah haha, not proofread so please don't mind the grammatical errors 😭

on the radio . . . "espresso" by sabrina carpenter

in my opinion, leo is kinda insecure (just like percy) so it took him a while to realize that you liked him back !!

in the meanwhile, he would fangirl about you to his friends

oh and trust me, they were SICK AND TIRED of that boy

"guys, did you see the way she looked at me at dinner??"

(which he told them like for the 1293858th time that week)

#delusionalking

and don't act like you didn't do the same thing as well, because we all know damn well you did

yapping about leo to annabeth, silena and piper at the cabin 10 sleepovers is a weekly (almost daily) occurrence

like i've mentioned in the beginning, leo's probably really insecure, so he uses his flirty and cheeky personality to cover it up!

which has you giggling and kicking your feet

because that boy flirts with you more than anyone else

oh and when he found out that you work at the infirmary with will solace?

it was his most visited place other than bunker 9

leo is naturally a really clumy person (me too lmao) so he injures himself on accident quite often when working on something in bunker 9, but one way or another he'll find an excuse to come visit you there (even if he's not hurt) and say shit like

"you come here often?" or "can you kiss it better?"

with a shit-eating grin as you heal one of his injuries

since you're a child of the music god, you have AMAZING taste in music

so every once in a while you'd come over at bunker 9 and play some of your music while leo works on his projects

you'd be on his bed, painting away or even working on poems

speaking of poems!

you once wrote a poem about leo and after building up courage (with the help of your girlfriends) you read it out to leo!!

and let me tell you, that boy turned as red as a tomato

and he couldn't stop thinking about that poem FOR DAYS.

like girl you had that boy wrapped around your finger 😭 (hence the song i choose for this blog)

after that, he decided it's time to ask you to be his gf!! (screaming)

him and his friends (percy, jason and frank) have been planning and scheming on the best way leo can ask you out

since percy has a big mouth, he told the news to his girlfriend, annabeth.

your and leo's friends were pretty much one big friend group, so you guys hung out quite often

soon enough, piper and silena found out about leo's plan too

SOO HERE'S HOW I IMAGINE HOW'D LEO WOULD ASK YOU TO BE HIS GF!!

basically, the group decided to hang out at the beach is Montauk

"LAST ONE IN THE SEA IS A ROTTEN EGG!"

percy yelled, all the boys racing to the sea, except for leo.

"boys." annabeth muttered, rolling her eyes, causing piper, silena and you to giggle.

you had your beach towel spread out onto the sand, your tote bag to your left and a book in your hands.

leo sat at your right hand side, applying sunscreen onto his arms and upper body as he watched the boys splash and attempt to drown each other.

"could you please apply sunscreen on my back, y/n?"

you look up from your book you're reading and place your bookmark between the pages. a smile grew on your face as you nod, signaling leo to turn so his back faces you. he obliged and did as you said, he pulled his knees closer to his chest leaned his head onto his arms. (kinda like this I'm bad at explaining haha 😭)

hours pass by, the group has all been at the sea having a splash fight, then also played volleyball. now they wanted to have some snacks and drinks

and of course the group decided to pick you and leo to go get the snacks

you, oblivious to their intentions, started putting your flip flops on. as you weren't looking, leo shot a look at the smirking teenagers he calls his friends. piper and frank were showing thumbs up for support. while jason and percy gave him a knowing look. leo saw annabeth mouthing "now or never" to him.

"lee, you ready to go?"

he put his attention back on to you and nodded, heading to the corner shop with you next to him. he glanced back to his friends one last time, seeing them look at the pair walking off and cheering for leo, but silently of course, so you wouldn't suspect anything.

after you two have bought the snacks and drinks the friendgroup wanted, you head back to the beach.

leo noticed the group playing volleyball again, and used to opportunity to confess now. He stopped walking, standing at this area.

"hey, y/n. could we talk for a sec?"

you didn't think much of it and nodded, walking closer to where leo was standing.

then, his nervousness got the best of him and that boy just started rambling.

"so i just wanted to say that Iive liked you for REALLY long time. like a i like you A LOT and I really want to be together with you but i'm not sure if you feel the same and i really don't want to ruin this friendship. but i've never felt this way about anyone and–"

then he got interrupted with kiss!! (by you of course)

he froze, definitely not expecting that. but quickly kissed you back. his hands on your waist, pulling you closer as your hands wrapped behind his neck.

you soon pulled away, both of you catching your breaths.

"i like you too, leo."

a bright smile appeared on leo's face, him leaning his forehead onto yours.

"can i be your boyfriend, y/n?"

you act like you're thinking about, rubbing your chin jokingly, but ultimately day yes.

he kisses you again, but pulled away quickly as you two heard screaming and cheering from the back.

the pair turn around to see their friendgroup being the cause of this loud noise.

piper, annabeth and silena were the ones screaming, holding each other's hands as they jump up and down like little girls. While the boys were cheering and clapping, Percy even started jumping up and down with the girls. (LMFOAOA DON'T TELL ME HE WOULDN'T DO THAT)

anyhow! that's how i imagine it'd happen

leo and you are both you clingy mfs, even before dating. but now you two are glued to the hip.

he definitely calls you cute nicknames in spanish (#latinoking)

"mi amor" , "cariño" , "mi vida" , "hermosa" , "mi corazón" , "mi sol", "mami/mamas"

he loves, and i mean LOVES when you help him with his projects (cough this fic cough)

whenever a piece of your jewelry (earrings, necklaces, ect..) breaks, you already know your boyfriend is there to fix it for you.

despite being the daughter of the sun god, your hands were always FREEZING. that's why you had your fire boy to warm you up

that boy is basically your human heater. while you two would cuddle in the summer, you would get so hot while being in his embrace, but you just suffered, because his grip is strong as steel.

your guys' dynamic is sunshine x sunshine protecter!! (the protecter being you because leo doesn't do shit to stand up for himself)

#1 princess treatment giver!!

"baby, i can get out of the car myself–"

"shh, don't worry about it mami."

wow this is getting way too long woopsie

in conclusion, leo valdez is the best boyfriend ever and you two are the power couple of chb!!!

THE END!!

— 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐍𝐀𝐈.

taglist (pls tell me if I should remove / add you!!) : @thesnshinee @graceslcver @gentlehue @ssparksflyy @coolestgirlintheworld112 @ghostlyloversworld @percyslcver @lovely-calypso @woodlandwrites @brainsofseaweed @mershellscape @hopelesslyromanticshark @canonfeminine

[fairytsuk1]

hips don't lie | (s)

pairing: alex quackity x reader

words: 2.5k

warnings: sexual content, drinking (of age), sexual dancing, mild voyeurism, mild public sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, pre-established relationship

summary: alex knows you think he's hot. when you're all out and about, the pressure builds till you both can't take it anymore.

The two of you dressed in tandem, slipping past each other to apply perfume and perfectly tie a tie. Still, neither of you could hide the longing glances at the silhouette of Alex's body or the whisper of promise accentuated by your curves. Alex watches you work through your make-up routine while he sits on the bed, already ready.

"Is–what's his name–going to be there? Roier?"

Alex stands and draws close to you, crowding your inner bubble and resting a chin on your shoulder, "yeah, but he'll probably be busy with Sabi. Did I tell you how good you look in this dress, hm?"

You have to remember that you have somewhere to be when you feel Alex's hands possessively glide down the bones of your hips, circling back to your ass and squeezing.

"You did, actually, when I bought it," you smirk at him through the mirror, clipping in an earring, "don't get handsy. We need to leave soon."

"I'm not getting handsy! I'm just appreciating your body. I mean, how could I not?"

Alex says it so genuinely, lips quirked up as he wraps his arms around you comfortingly. You know he means every compliment, every embrace, every little instance reminded you that he truly loved you. The two of you glance at each other before your lips are joined in a heated kiss that your boyfriend eagerly accepts. A dominant hand splays across your lower back, tugging you chest to chest; his free hand slips down and grabs a handful of your behind, "Alex!"

"Sorry," he cheekily laughs, pecking your lips softly once more, "let's get going."

He leaves your heart beating and thighs squeezing together most unfairly. He was so devastatingly attractive, with a demeanor that made you feel like a princess. Your lips twist into a pout while you punch his arm, "that's what I've been saying, actually!" 

"Oh, is that what you were saying?"

Your boyfriend's already grabbed his keys as wiggly fingers tickle your waist in the doorway. Alex feels his heart grow as you laugh, hair messily bouncing as your lifted lashes fluttered at him, "stop it! You're gonna ruin my hair, Lex."

He heeds your request, unlocking the front door to your shared apartment before pausing before you.

"Hey, I love you," he says.

The blush starts at your cheeks before encapsulating your head in flames. It's so mushy, brown eyes round like boba sparkling at you as he lets himself have a moment of vulnerability. Your hand comes to cup his cheek, and you feel as if you're precisely where you need to be, your thumb coming up just short of the mole under his eye.

"I love you too," and your empathetic eyes begin to well.

As in tune with you as always, Alex is quick to wave away tears by pulling you close into the warmth of his side.

"Don't cry! I didn't say that just for you to cry. Besides, how can you cry when we're having drinks tonight?"

Alex's ever-present excitement for drinking doesn't go unnoticed by you; it's enough to wipe a lone tear and peck his jaw, "nothing could ever stop me from drinking with you. I still watch that video of you doing karaoke that one time!"

"God, please don't talk about that! Ugh, I can't believe you still even have that. It's horrible! You have blackmail on your phone, literally."

Your conversation delves into nonsense, bantering and lightly ribbing each other the whole car ride. His hand, of course, stays on your thigh the entire ride.

-

You're a few drinks in and realize you severely underscored Alex's attractiveness that night as you took him in during a minute of group socialization. He'd been steadily killing it the whole night, a hand leading you from the small of your back and laughing with people as if he'd known everyone for years. It wasn't easy showing up as a streamer's plus one, but he knew how to make you feel accepted and relaxed.

Now, however, you're starting to get a bit needy after far too many glasses of red wine and a lingering hand on your inner thigh. Alex is faring even worse. It was as if the combination of alcohol with your high-libidos led to a fantastic product of pure lust. The two of you knew there wasn't a more inappropriate time to disappear to the bathrooms. Still, every look was supercharged with arousal and wanting. 

People from the QSMP crowd your table, infinitely singing praises at your boyfriend's table. Rafael, or Cellbit, says something about dancing, and your mind is plagued by thoughts echoing what you wanted to do most. You needed to show Alex how much you wanted him.

Alex beat you to the chase, "Let's go dance!"

"Okay," your skin is flushed from intoxication, and Alex's touch against your palm sends electricity up your spine.

It's a bit crowded moving to the dance floor, but soon, you find your own spot in the crowd where there's just enough breathing room for you and him to be face to face. It feels intimate, just slightly swaying together. Then, his hands are skimming the edge of your dress and sliding right up to your hips.

You lean in close, brushing your lips against the shell of his ear, "not too much PDA for you?"

"Not at all. I mean, it's better than ripping your clothes off and fucking you right here," his hands bring you so close that your hips are flush, "that's what I really wanna do to you right now."

A breath is caught in your throat as you discreetly sway with the group. His cock slowly begins to press against your thigh as he looks at you with pure need. There's no doubt your panties are soaked with arousal as you imagine how he'd feel, leaving bruises on the contours of your hips, pulling you back against his cock as you struggle to barely hold yourself up. 

"Alex, I want you so bad," you whisper into his ear, "and I can feel you. I wanna suck you off."

The fact you're speaking so lewdly with no one catching on makes both of your pulses quicken. Practically in the distance, the DJ changes the song, and you take the opportunity to use Alex's aroused shock to turn in his arms.

"Let's just go to the bathroom real quick and–"

"Let's just dance for a second, yeah?"

He doesn't even have the chance to rebuke you, too entranced by how you teasingly sway your hips against his now prominent bulge. To others, it just looks like an average couple having an intimate time; only God knows how much Alex is thinking of the softness of your cheeks that press into his thighs, the way your hips effortlessly tilt the same way you would be riding him at his desk. You act so nonchalantly like this, but he's the only one making you moan and whine while he sucks on your wet clit like a man starved.

You only tone down your seductive dancing when his hands wrap around your middle with no wiggle room. Alex holds you in place, and your eyes want to roll back in your head from the way he lightly presses your lower stomach against him. He always feels so massive behind you like this, like he's in total control of your body which makes your clit pulse.

"You can be so naughty sometimes, I'm so fucking hard in my pants now. It's all your fault, you know," he whispers hotly in your ear, "Why don't we go to the bathroom for a second, baby?"

"But I'm having fun dancing," you brattily reply, tilting your jaw up to stare at him through your lashes.

He gives you a plain look, and the submissive bone in your body leaves your legs shaking. 

"You could be having much more fun getting fucked by me, getting split open on my cock. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to," he drops the ultimatum, but the both of you already know your answer.

"Take me to the bathroom," you mumble, pressing against him.

Within moments, your boyfriend has come up with a lame excuse: "Yeah, she's feeling a bit sick!" The two of you are speedwalking to the private bathrooms and clicking the locks shut. Once safely secure, affirmed by the slide and click of the lock, Alex is quick to make work of your body and fiercely bring you into a makeout session with him.

It's hot, messy, it's so wet the way your lips collide against each other. The tension finally builds up and culminates in gliding your tongue against his as he works a knee between your legs. You knew you needed him, but your body was buzzing as his hands cupped your breasts roughly, "ah, fuck. I'm so horny."

"How do you think I feel," he groans, sucking a mark into your neck, "I feel like a teenager, about to come in my pants over your fucking grinding."

Alex's hand cups your jaw to bring your lips together again, tugging on the delicate skin as he drinks you in, "you're fucked up for that, you know?"

"I know, but you like being teased."

"I don't! I really don't," he mumbles, pulling off his suit jacket and hanging it on the door hook, "I should really get you back."

Your boyfriend says it as he manages to pull the cups of your bra down, freeing your chest from the confines of your chest. The cold, naked breeze leaves you aching to cover up, but Alex soothes your pebbling nipples with the warmth of his mouth and slick of his tongue. It feels too good, moans squeaking out of you as he tweaks and sucks at the puckering buds.

He always wants to make you feel good, which means learning everything that made you tick as he absolutely ravishes you. Your nipples were always so sensitive, your fingernails scratching his scalp like the pleasure was crawling out of you like a woman enchanted. 

"Yeah, babe? You like it when I play with your pretty tits?"

"Yeah, yes! The way you touch my nipples feels so good," your words come out, exhaled in pure relief, and it is a relief.

You needed his hands on your body, kneading plush skin and making you feel oh-so-good. Alex beckons you away from the door, lifting you up by your hips to seat you on the counter's edge. You're closer to his height now, and there's a brief moment of sweetness as you reconnect by standing flush against each other. He's fully hard now, desperate for you.

"I need you so bad, fuck," he sighs pleasedly.

Manicured hands unbutton the top buttons of his shirt, soaking in golden-tanned skin that gleams under the bathroom lights. Alex catches the sight of the two of you in the mirror, and his thighs shake with the empathetic rush of pleasure that courses through him just seeing the state of you two. Messy hair, make-up smudged, clothes absolutely and unmistakably disheveled. 

Neither of you could wait any longer, "wanna fuck you from behind. Turn around for me, please?"

Once you're entirely on display, you have a front-row view in the mirror as his hands glide over the curve in your lower back before reaching your cheeks and spreading them. Your creamy hole is fully on display, and Alex shushes you when you whine, "Don't stareee."

"Hush, just be patient for a second," he doesn't even take his eyes off your pussy, "I can't appreciate my girlfriend?"

You want to bite back sassily, but then the head of his dick catches on your clit, leaving your jaw-dropping in a dramatic display. The man behind you chuckles lightly, gliding the tip between your sticky folds to thoroughly coat his cock in your wetness, "what was that?"

"N-Nothing, just hurry up!"

Biting your lip, you try to jerk your hips back, but Alex's hand keeps your lower back firmly pinned to the counter, "I've been daydreaming about this since you got ready."

Alex gives you no chance to try and speak, plunging the tip in your pussy and stretching your thick walls. You know he's barely inside you, barely begun to dick you down. Still, you're already gutturally moaning, "Fuuuck… yes, lex–mmf!"

He gives you time to adjust, shallowly thrusting his hips with a hand on your hips. You're already trying to suck him in, and he's barely a few inches inside! It's heaven, and you can see the way his black hair cascades in his face as he slowly bullies his fat cock into you.

"God, fuck! You're taking me so well; this pussy is squeezing me so tight," he groans, eyes locking onto yours in the mirror as he starts to thrust earnestly, "Oh fuck yeah, take my cock, baby."

There's a loud 'pap' that echoes through the room as Alex works his hips into yours, steadily burying his cock deep into your folds and dicking you down expertly. The room grows hot and heady, the scent of sex permeating the air as Alex skillfully pounds you against the counter, "Talk to me, baby. Actually–fuuck. Look at me, babe."

Your hand grips the counter fiercely, but you can still look up to watch as Alex drags his dick through your walls over and over, "Filling me up so good–wanna cum so bad. I wanna be good–oh! Uh-huh, 'jus wanna be good for you."

Alex feels his balls constrict as you tighten around him, feet on tip-toes as you draw closer and closer to your orgasm. 

"Cum all over me, babe. Let me make you feel good, fuck yes. Just like that, honey."

All you can do is hold on as each thrust winds you up closer and closer until stars are bursting behind your eyelids. You cum with a cry of Alex's name, legs shaking as your pussy creams till there's a white ring around the base of his cock. The feeling of your gummy walls squeezing his dick and your words as you cry, "shit, Alex! Make me cum, oh god. I-I'm yours, fuuuck!"

He cums with a loud groan, hips slapping against your hips once, then twice as you feel him spurt his load against your pink inner walls. Your fluids mix together, spilling out of your hole and leaking down your thigh. The both of you fade in and out of existence, the power of your shared release leaving the two of you reeling as his cock softens inside you.

Your man stays inside of you until your breaths have calmed and come to a slow. He gently works his cock out of you, slowly pulling out as you hiss, "Shh, just stay here, babe. Let me get a towel."

"What time is it?"

A gentle hand comes between your legs to wipe up any excess mess. You jump as he swipes over your clit, an action that Alex giggles at.

"Definitely time to go."

The two of you stand side by side in the mirror, horrified. 

"My hair!"

"My dress! You totally screwed it all up!"

"Nuh-uh, that was all you, babe! Do you think everyone's gonna know?"

You would've said yes and promised that no one would know a single thing. But your eyes zero in on his lips' red, swollen state. The way his shirt is unbuttoned just enough to spot a red mark carding down his chest.

"Oh, babe… absolutely."

Alex whines, but you feel delighted.

[tahdashi]

HOW HE TEASES YOU. . .

✦ ft: the tot boys x gn!reader

✦ a/n: v suggestive!! just some needy lil guys. forever thinking about luke’s back.

✦ ARTEM isn't direct with his intentions, but on the occasion that he's feeling a bit needy, he'll let his actions do most of the talking. when you two are laying in bed after a long day of work, the legal technicalities long gone from your thoughts, artem's fingers slide underneath the fabric of your shirt. they linger there before he's rubbing soft, delicate circles into your skin. he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, basking in your warmth and scent, and even though this should be comforting, he only finds himself wanting you more. "love..." his voice trails off in a whisper. anyone else would mistake it for fatigue, but you know the meaning underneath the deep timbre of his voice. it's hypnotic — the song of a siren. you pull his face out from the juncture of your neck and shoulders, looking deep into his eyes. a glint of lust and affection sits atop his irises. placing a gentle kiss to your lips, artem pushes himself up to hover over your body before melting his lips against yours once again. “i need you,” he whispers into your skin — and you’ll give him all that you are. he kisses you with fervor, his hands dance along your waist and he pulls you closer until you can feel the pounding in his chest against yours. the night ahead is long and ardent, but it's just what he needed — the perfect distraction.

✦ MARIUS never shies away from riling you up, whether you two are in public or not. he has this habit, an annoying one, really, of whispering how needy he is right by the shell of your ear. and if you weren't surrounded by tons of a-list celebrities and other important people that marius obviously has in his contacts, you'd yank him by the ear and tell him not to do that. and marius thinks he's smooth for wanting to get a reaction out of you at one of his own galas, but little does he know — you're used to this. "you look really pretty in that, baby, give me a spin?" he slides his hands lower so they sit right below your waist, and his fingers pull at the shiny silk he picked out for you. twisting the material around his finger, he leans in again. "or you can give me a private show later." you look up to see his signature smirk. you scoff at his words, knowing he’s only saying this to rile you up, but the warmth of his hand bleeds through the fabric. the rest of the night passes like a blur, and the only thought marius has on his mind is showing you how beautiful you truly looked tonight.

✦ LUKE knows the easiest way to get you flustered. it’s simple, because when he walks around the apartment with just his sweatpants on, you’re always at a loss for words. his body is toned; the countless hours he spent working out didn’t go to waste. you stare at the way his back flexes when he reaches into the cabinet for a cup, and when he turns back to ask if you want something to drink, he catches you staring. “what? you’re looking at me like i have 3 heads,” his fang peeks out as he laughs. “or are you just impressed?” he flexes a little and you catch the way his abs tighten, his arms swell even bigger. you feel your cheeks heat up, and luke comes even closer, encasing you in his arms. pressed against his chest, you think you might just melt. he presses a kiss to your cheek, cooing at your flustered expression. “you’re annoying,” you try to push him away, but he only tries to kiss your cheek again, reveling in the sound of your laughter. “says the one that’s trying to burn a hole through me. tell me, babe, are you gonna let me kiss you properly now?”

✦ VYN is always deliberate with his actions, delivering his message smoothly and nonchalantly. he lowers his voice, the timbre of it dark and intoxicating. and paired with subtle glances at your lips, he’s got you in a trance. he does this out of the blue — when you’re telling him about your day, you’ll notice the way he hums and focuses on your lips. he encourages you to go on, “hm? what else, sweetheart?” and when he looks at you so intently, with so much ardor in his golden eyes, you lose every syllable that once crossed your mind. he’s got you in his trap (as if you’d ever pull away from his honeyed gaze). his lips move towards yours like a gravitational force, and you lean in instinctively. at the very last moment, before your eyes flutter shut, you see that vyn’s still looking at you through heavy lids, as if he’s trying to commit the sight to memory, as if he’d never get to look at your lips ever again. you both know that’s impossible — he’s insatiable, and you’re under his spell.

reblogs are appreciated!

[sweet-as-an-angel]

I know you must be busy and have a lot of work to do, so dont feel pressured to respond !! 😊

Anyways, i have Dominic💓 brainrot 😫‼️‼️💔💔, and was wondering what hed think of a reader that has been raised in a lower/working-class household all of their life ?

Here we have a person that's not has had even a *taste* of luxury, their clothes being second-hand, thrifting becoming their past-time, and, havung had parents living paycheck-to-paycheck, would feel guilty for ever asking tjem for anything, and had starting working for Dominic because they were desperate to pay them back for all the sacrifices they msde for them in their childhood :((

And here we have Dominic, a successful, wealthy business man, secretly raising their wages, and the whole time reader feels sheepish and at times even *embarrassed*, overwhelmed by so much money ??

Especially whrn he slides in a thick envelope with a generous stack of cash into their back pocket with a charming wink, or buys them sometjing that they had mentioned wanting in a passing conversation as they had been sadly stating how they coupd never afford it, and Dominic saying that its absolutely—

—"Not a problem in the slightest, mon chéri. Why wouldn't I want to reward my favourite babysitter for their hard work?"— **oozing** charisma and smiling his dazzling, award-winning smile, and insisting that—

—"You shouldn't be fussing over trifles such as money. Hard work pays off, and you have been working very hard indeed." ... @@"" ",

Anon, you've hit the nail on the head with this one 🤭. Thank you so much for writing in and enjoying my Dominic content, it means the world to me <3 !

TW: Dominic, Manipulative Mentions of Weight Loss, Implied Smut, Dominic Being a Creep

♡ But yes, absolutely, Dominic would use his financial position as a means of dominance over you. Subtly, of course, so that you don't know he's being...unabashed his efforts to woo you. But prevalent enough that you still feel indebted - grateful - to him for all that he's done.

♡ The longer you know each other, the more personal - intimate - the gifts he gets you become. Speaking on that, he makes a habit to inadvertently reward behaviours he desires in you, such as cutting off friends, dumping your boyfriend, spending more time around him, etc.

♡ At first, the gifts are general - vague - and inconspicuous; they belie the true extent to which Dominic has memorised your tastes. Something like a low-price jumper he knows is your general style, something to keep you warm in winter. He'll give you a smile. "Can't have our favourite babysitter freezing up now, can we."

♡ Then, it'll be a pair of boots to go with the jumper - "So you won't have any difficulty getting to and from our house."

♡ It doesn't matter that you live right next door to each other. Dominic doesn't want you taking any chances.

♡ He'll use his assertiveness to trick you into believing you've "Gotten a little thinner these days. Are you eating properly?"

♡ He'll feign concern as he comes close to you, lifting your arms, apologising and faking a vague bashfulness as he apologises for overstepping. "French hospitality, I suppose," he says, averting his eyes for no longer than a second.

♡ And of course, you believe him. Of course, you don't see a problem with his behaviour, especially when he seems so concerned for your wellbeing.

♡ He won't let that lie, by the way. He'll keep telling you how you seem to keep dropping a size every time you see him. Eventually, he'll insist on taking you out to dinner.

♡ When you inevitably try to refuse his kindness, he'll whip out old reliable. "It was supposed to be Marilyn and I's dinner date, but she's..." he glances down the hall. Gives his brow a light yet chiselled furrow. He wonders if you can hear the fizz of the sedative in Marilyn's drink as he can, the sound fresh in his ears.

♡ "Sick, unfortunately."

♡ So now, obviously, Dominic is faced with a dilemma. But you have the solution.

♡ He asks you to accompany him — “I’ll pay for you, of course,” — to take Marilyn’s place.

♡ You resist at first. Tell him that you couldn’t possibly do that. But Dominic is the father of manipulation, and he’s nursed many a lie, watched the become their own adulterous identities, and knows exactly how to get you to go.

♡ “Please, you deserve a break. And besides, I don’t want to be seen eating all the lobster on my lonesome.”

♡ You succumb to his efforts. He tells you to get ready for your dinner date. You tell him you have nothing worthy of wearing.

♡ He knows this.

♡ He smiles. Brings you to a room that is filled to the brim in outfits he says that “Marilyn and I rarely use. Something here will be your size, I'm sure.”

♡ He’s made sure there is. He’s bought half a dozen suits and dresses in just your size — and a little over or under depending on how tightly he wants to see the fabric squeeze you — for this exact occasion. Of which he expects there to be multiple.

♡ He resists the temptation of watching you undress. Of seeing you so bare in his house.

♡ He settles for whatever little flashes of skin your outfit affords. All of which were bought with the sole intention of giving Dominic enough to work with for his midnight musings.

♡ This is not the last time Dominic will treat you to dinner, the last time he watches your eyes bulge out of your skull as you see the amount the bill comes down to — a luxury Dominic lets you see to really instill that sense of indebtedness.

♡ And each time, he tries to get you further and further over the threshold of his house. His room.

♡ When you get undressed and back into your ordinary clothes, Dominic tells you he’ll keep the outfit and wash it.

♡ You don’t know it’s yours yet.

♡ He doesn’t wash it. He all but bathed in the scent of you, mouthing the places your warmest, most intimate sorts would have been pressed against. He imagines you there, vividly.

♡ He wonders how much you’d be willing to bend to the will of his wealth. How much he can make you do until you’re entrenched in his affections, toffee-sweet and with all its viscosity.

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

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[deathofacupid]

i'll always take care of you | clay jensen

a/n: this post saved me! posting another clay fic fully aware it's going to flop...

summary: clay hates parties, but if you're going, he's going too. someone's gotta watch out for you, right?

warnings: underage drinking, mention of drugs, cursing

pairing: fem!reader x clay jensen

word count: 1.2k+ words

he swears, he swears, he took his eyes off you for less than five minutes to pee. in his defense, clay didn't think you'd go missing in that short amount of time. (okay, he tells himself, maybe "missing" isn't the right word choice if he wants to stay calm.)

now, he thinks - knows - otherwise. clay regrets not asking one his sober friends to watch you, because who knows what might've happened to you?

and now that he's acknowledged the fact something might've happned to you, he's spiraling. hey, at least he's self aware of the fact he's spiraling, right?

yeah, okay, so that doesn't make things better.

he asks around, but the music is too loud, so most people don't even hear him. and if they do hear him, they're "busy". whether it's dancing, grinding, or drinking, he's reached the conclusion that no one gives shits.

he's frantically going back and forth, room to room. clay tries your phone a number of times, though he isn't suprised when it goes straight to voicemail.

as he shoves past more people, heading to the kitchen where the drinks are at (you might be there), his mind is racing with every possibility.

what if someone took advantage of you? and it was all his fault? be, god, did he not learn all the previous times?

he shoulders a drunk couple, and scans the area. empty bottles, alcohol not not, trash the counters, and a number of cabinets are left open. clay takes a few step fowards, accidently kicking a can. he pick it up, and in the process, sees a girl... just lying there.

he makes a face, before realizing it's not just any girl. it's his girlfriend. it's... you.

"y/n? what the hell? where's your phone at? i've been looking for you everywhere!" he exclaims, trying to pull you up.

"shh. sh. look at those stars. god, i just love the ursa major."

"we're inside. those are the ceiling lights," clay says. he doesn't think he's ever met someone who gets drunk like you.

"oh. well, it's still magical."

"yeah, lord praise the electrican," with a slight struggle, he pulls you up to your feet, and you don't resist.

"how much did you have to drink?" he mutters, and it's mostly rhetorical.

"yes, i am."

"no, that's not- never mind. we're leaving."

"nooo. why? we just got here!"

"oh, yeah," he rolls his eyes, "we just got here 3 hours ago."

you whine again, but he just sighs. you aren't normally a heavy drinker, but when you do decide to get out of that comfort zone, you go all out.

currently, it felt like he was dragging around a hormonal toddler. 0/10 experience, he does not recommend. of course, he'll happily do it anyways.

ask anybody really, clay's completely whipped for you. he hasn't felt this was since hannah, and even then, it doesn't feel the same.

it feels deeper.

part of him is afraid he's gonna mess this up, and that his love for you has peaked. but he looks right at you, and realizes that it never will.

"come on, angel," he says, almost pleadingly. the way your eyes gleam at the nickname he's just dropped has him all giddy.

"okie," you make grabby-hands at them.

"is this- are you asking me to carry you?" clay knows very well it wouldn't work out well. he's so greatful you look past his physical strength.

you shrug. "well," clay presses his lips together, "it looks like you can in fact walk, so... let's get to it."

he takes a step to you, and you stumble straight into his arms. clay darts a hand to your lower back to steady you, "whoa."

"i'm good!" you slur.

"and off we go, drunkie."

"'m... i'm not a," you pause, hiccupping, trying to remember the word he used.

"uh, at this moment, you are." he leads you to the front door, and he's so focused on helping you take steps forward, he completely slams into someone.

clay falters back as you fall out of your grip. but as he realizes what's happened, he sees that justin's caught you, and you're pressed up against him. "oh," you murmur, "well, hello there, handsome."

"yeah, okay, no," clay loops your arm back around him, stealing you back from his brother.

"alas, i'm taken," justin sighs. "and you are too. forbidden love, huh?"

clay rolls his eyes, for what feels like the millionth time tonight. "y/n's, like, shit-faced."

"i can see that. you taking her home?"

"your parents are out of town, right?" he asks, turning back to you.

"my... my parents?" you ask, "i have-?"

clay makes eye contact with justin. "she'll stay the night. i don't want her home alone. i assume you'll..." he grimaces, "stay the night with jess?"

"oh, you know it, bro."

clay makes a face, picturing his brother having sex isn't great. he knows he doesn't have to tell justin to do the right thing.

"cool. then you won't need a ride back."

"nope. you aren't drunk, right?"

"i'm the designated driver," clay replies.

"cool. night, by the way," he says, giving the two of you a quick hug.

"goodnight!" you sing-song, individually sounding out ever syllable.

he opens the car door for you, and you squint off into the distance. "look at the moon. it's so pretty. you're almost as pretty."

clay follows your eye line. "that... that is a street-lamp."

you shrug, "you're almost as pretty."

"gee, thanks."

"don't be jealous?"

"it's hard to not envy a street-lamp."

you giggle drunkenly, and a small smile flits over his face, "you're adorable," he tells you.

"i know," you say, matter-of-factly.

"aww, what an adorable narcissist."

"very."

clay chuckles and closes the door, getting in from the other side.

“where are we going?” you ask, squinting at the rear-view mirror in awe. “oh my, that’s me,” you whisper.

"a; my place, b; that's your reflection. wild, right?"

"whoa," is all you respond with. you pull on your seatbelt, adjusting it so you can turn to face him in your seat. "i really, really love you."

"well, you're in luck," he smiles, "the feeling's mutual."

he tries to keep up with your nonsensical blabber, but he doesn't know if he's done a good job. either way, clay's just pulled into the parking lot, turning the ignition off.

"all right," he turns to look at you, exiting from his side, and over to yours. unbuckling your belt for you, clay helps you out.

"to the shed we go!" you cheer, not very quietly. clay clamps a hand over your mouth, "you could quite literally not be any louder."

you bite his hand, and he yelps, pulling it away. "yes, i could!" you argue.

"trust me, i don't wanna test that theory out."

"your loss."

"not really."

the first thing he does is help you change into comfier clothes, an old shirt of his and basketball shorts that don't fit him anymore. clay doesn't have a reason to keep makeup wipes around, but he adds them to his mental shopping list for next time. he grabs a clean rag and wets it with warm water, gently wiping off the makeup.

then it's just you and his in the outhouse, pressed against each other under covers.

"tired?" he asks. you nod simply in reply.

"yeah, me too. now i have a good idea of being a dad is like." he chuckles at his own stupid joke, thinking that if you were sober, you'd say something silly like "okay, daddy".

"thanks for..." you trail off, yawning. clay kisses your forehead.

"i'll always take care of you."

[hanmaitani]

Out For The Night

PAIRING - Bodyguard!Matsukawa x Reckless!Reader WC - 1.9K GENRE - fluff (?) CW - alcohol consumptions, pining if you can read

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

It's easy, you realize very quickly, to forget that Matsukawa and his time don't belong solely to you.

You'd grown accustomed to having him around at all times. Whenever you asked. He was there at your every beck and call. Most of the time.

You'd forgotten that he wasn't always there, that being with you was working. You were a job. And he could take days off, time away from you.

It's a fact that you're reminded of tonight.

You stand in the doorway of the living room, dejected as you watch Matsukawa pull on his coat.

"My replacement will be attending to you tonight." He was too busy pulling on his shoes to notice the disappointment painting your features as you watched his movements from the steps. "I've told him about how sometimes you like to go out, he'll tag along with you the way I do if you want him to." Matsukawa sighed as he stood up straight again. "Or he can wait in the car. Either way, try not to ditch him."

You huff a breath of air in annoyance and he finally looks up at you. There's a small pout on your lips and your eyebrows are pulled a little lower than usual. Even your arms are crossed over your chest in your upset.

"Stop pouting." He instructs and you only roll your eyes. "It's only for tonight."

"It isn't about you." You lie through your teeth. "My brother didn't invite me to come drink." You huff and Matsukawa rolls his eyes, but he can't help the small smile that creeps onto his lips at your childness. "He's taking you and Makki tonight but leaves me behind? That isn't fair." You're whining and Matsukawa lets his amusement get to him.

He laughs softly, messing up your hair ask he walks past you. "Just beers and the guys. I'll be back in the morning."

You didn't quite understand it. The feeling of upset that flooded through your body as he left your house, one last short conversation with his replacement for the night.

It was a dejected sort of feeling, a kind of loss when he wasn't there for you to bug and bother. It had been your whole goal in the months he'd been your bodyguard, trying to get him to quit and leave you alone.

But now? When he's leaving you for just the night?

Maybe it was different now, now that he'd stuck it out longer than any other had. You weren't sure that you liked the foreign feeling.

Matsukawa was only across town from you, but somehow feeling the same disconnectedness as you felt back home.

It wasn't that he wasn't having fun, he was all too happy to be out with two of his closest friends again. Happy to be off duty and relaxing.

He couldn't, however, get you out of his head. Fretting ever-so-much about whether or not you'd tried and succeeded to ditch the stand-in bodyguard. If you were safe without him there.

It was especially hard to get you out of his head when your brother and Hanamaki were bringing you up every second that they could possibly turn the conversation back onto you. Like now, when your brother - already a few drinks in - was now nudging at Matsukawa's shoulder, reaching across Hanamaki to do so.

"You know Mattsun, no other bodyguard has stuck around for her as long as you have." Matsukawa chuckles at that, his cheeks heating up a bit under the assault of the semi-compliment and the influence of his alcohol (which he's had more of than he'd like to admit). "Or made this many changes to family schedules and assignments." Your brother continued, turning his attention to Hanamaki.

Your brother, currently the drunkest of the three, brings his hand up to pinch Hanamaki's cheek a bit, leaning himself mostly onto his friend's shoulder and looking up at him with glazed eyes. "I do miss my favorite driver being around all the time."

Matsukawa smirks as he watches Hanamaki's cheeks flare up under the sudden undivided attention of your brother. But his smirk falls soon as Hanamaki, despite stuttering slightly, easily turns your brother's attention away again. "Yeah well, you know, the way y/n and Mattsun act around each other, he might actually make it as her permanent bodyguard. Who knows."

Your brother laughs at this, letting his eyes linger on the way Hanamaki's words form for just a second too long before snapping his gaze, and teasing, back to Matsukawa. "So, my sister got you wrapped around her finger yet, Mattsun?"

Matsukawa's attempt to answer was cut off by Hanamaki quickly.

"Oh boy, does she?" Hanamaki laughs and it's Matsukawa's turn to feel his neck start to heat up. Embarrassment crawling up to his ears in preparation for what was about to come from Hanamaki's lips.

"She gets whatever she wants." Your brother's eyes were back on Hanamaki, fully invested in the words he was releasing into the air between them. "She drags Mattsun all over the place, whenever and wherever she wants."

Matsukawa sighed and shakes his head, tipping his drink back to finish it. He waves down the bartender for something stronger, needing it if his friends were going to continue this line of conversation.

"Bit of a pushover for her, honestly. You should see them."

"Our Matsukawa Issei?" Your brother gasps dramatically, hand slapping onto his chest in mock horror at the news. He couldn't keep the charade for more than a second before he was laughing again, leaning back on Hanamaki. "You just let her have her way with you, don't you Mattsun?"

Mattsun is quick to choke on his drink, knowing that your brother didn't accidentally chose his phrasing. He's immediately trying to defend himself only to have Hanamaki beat him to the punch, again.

"Yeah, just not in the way he wants." Hanamaki's innuendo was rewarded with a swift smack to the back of the head by Matsukawa.

Matsukawa swore at that moment that he wouldn't quite mind washing Hanamaki's blood out of his clothes if he made another comment like that. The comment that, to Matsukawa's luck, seemed to go right over your brother's head anyways. His attention was now drawn completely to where Hanamaki had been hit, too busy fawning over the (not truly) injured friend.

Hanamaki knew he was right though. He knew it from the very first time that he saw you and Matsukawa together. Long before Matsukawa was ever assigned to be your bodyguard.

Hanamaki has watched you grow up. He's learned everything there is to know about you. What makes you tick, how you act. He's watched you other bodyguards come and go. He knew that no other bodyguard you've had has ever pulled the kinds of actions, reactions and responses out of you that Matsukawa has.

And Hanamaki knew Matsukawa. He'd been his best friend since they were kids. He knew from the second he first saw Matsukawa with you that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from falling in love with you.

It was obvious (to Hanamaki at least) from the way that Matsukawa was more distant tonight than he usually would have been on a guy's night out - too busy thinking about you. From the way Matsukawa kept downing his drinks. From the way his face and neck grew hotter every time you were brought into the conversation again... It had already started.

Matsukawa is slow-moving the next morning, sunglasses on his eyes despite the morning sun still hiding behind gray clouds. He's already grumbling in irritation as he's getting into the front seat of Hanamaki's car.

You're smiling too brightly as you lean forward from the back, offering him a large coffee. He forces himself to give you a smile anyways, graciously taking the cup and sipping on it.

The smile is gone just as quickly as Hanamaki restarts the car, his ears suddenly assaulted by the blasting of music that you and Hanamaki had been listening to on the way to his apartment. He sinks into his seat with a groan, mentally hoping that Hanamaki might choose now to stop driving safely, might break a few traffic laws and get to your brother's house a little faster so he can have a companion in his suffering.

It doesn't help that you and Hanamaki seem to be purposely trying to be obnoxious and overly loud in your singing along to the tunes that you could definitely turn down a few notches in Matsukawa's opinion.

Obnoxious also, is the way you keep leaning into Matsukawa, pushing at his shoulder a bit and begging him to sing along with the two of you, often chorused by Hanamaki's "yeah, c'mon Mattsun just be a little fun for once."

It's this most recent time that you ask that you finally get a bit of a reaction out of Matsukawa. Spice Girls' Wannabe is playing on the radio and you and Hanamaki are singing along, nudging at Matsukawa again. Matsukawa, finally tired of it and slightly irritable from the hangover - despite the coffee - rolls his eyes with a sigh.

"I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want." He starts with a sigh, more of a grumble than actually singing, but it's in tune and doesn't stop you and Hanamaki from lighting up in excitement as you return.

"So tell me what you want, what you really, really want." You and Hanamaki sing loudly, keeping your energy as you bounce excitedly. "I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna-" You're nudging Matsukawa with each one, watching him nod along, his eyebrows raised and only slightly amused. He knows what he's doing.

"I wanna really, really, really wanna - hear you shut up." He keeps the rhythm to the end, both you and Hanamaki's jaws dropping in shock at the words.

Both you and Hanamaki are quick to boo at him, your insults of 'no fun' and 'buzzkill' only feeding the smug grin on Matsukawa's lips. Hanamaki's car finally pulls up outside of your brother's apartment building and he's waiting outside.

Matsukawa's relief, however, is only short-lived when he realizes that your brother is seemingly not sharing the misfortune of being hungover in your and Hanamaki's presence. Your brother joins in your and Hanamaki's antics almost immediately, laughing at Matsukawa's situation when you explain what had been happening with a bubbly attitude.

The laughing, however, is cut short when your brother glances at the time and realizes what it reads as. "Alright," he's still stifling his chuckles as he pipes up from his spot behind Hanamaki, "let's go." His hands squeeze the back of Hanamaki's shoulders, a signal that Hanamaki takes with only a small blush. "Mom and dad wanna hand over the key to your guys' new place."

The comment has everyone else in the care freezing. Simultaneous comments flying from both your and Matsukawa's lips as you both twist to look at your brother.

"Excuse me?"

"Our what?"

"Oh fuck," your brother tries to sound upset at himself but it's only shadowed by another burst of laughter, "forget I said that, it's supposed to be a surprise, they wanna tell you themselves."

a/n all im sayin is hanamaki and reader's brother are goals...

TAGLIST - OPEN

@boosyboo9206 @faumpje @miyamizuna @all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings

@qichun

[fatecantstopme]

If I Love You Too Much, I’m Sorry

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: I got the idea from Russell Dickerson's song “Sorry”. Chris expresses his feelings for you via karaoke.

Warnings: RPF. Use of pet names. Cursing. Smut, Oral (M & F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

You'd met your boyfriend purely by chance. Your friends had dragged you out to a karaoke bar one night and he happened to be there with some of his own friends.

You were slightly embarrassed to say that you didn't even notice him until he got up on stage to sing a song. The moment you heard him speak, you recognized his Boston accent.

"Tell me that's not Chris Evans," you whispered to your best friend, Andi.

She turned towards the stage, eyes widening. "That is one hundred percent Chris Evans."

"What the hell is he doing in a karaoke bar in the middle of the week?" you hissed.

She laughed and shrugged. "Girl, everyone loves a good karaoke night. Even famous people."

One of your other friends rushed over to your table with a couple drinks. "Dude, did you see Chris freaking Evans? He's on stage!"

"Yeah, Nic, we saw him," you said. "Hard to miss the hot guy singing freaking Led Zeppelin."

"Who picks a Led Zeppelin song for karaoke?" Cole asked in annoyance.

You chuckled. "Apparently Chris Evans does."

Cole rolled his eyes. "Straight guys are so weird." He took a long drink. "At least he's pretty."

You bit your lip as you turned to look over at him. "Pretty is not the word I'd use," you mumbled.

Andi smacked your arm and you laughed.

"Okay, so you're getting up there next, right?" Nic teased you.

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?! You always sing karaoke."

"Not when Chris Evans might see me. No way in hell."

"Oh come on," Andi said with a grin. "Maybe he'll fall in love with you after he hears you sing."

You threw a napkin at her and she giggled.

"One of you can get up there and sing instead. I'm gonna get another drink."

You crossed the room to the bar, not really noticing that the song had changed. You ordered your drink and patiently waited for the bartender to make it. He handed you the drink with a smile and you grabbed it with a thanks. You turned around, not really paying much attention, and ran directly into a firm, broad chest, spilling your drink all over yourself and him.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," you said quickly, before looking up at the man you'd run into.

"It's alright, I kinda ran into you."

That thick Boston accent would have told you exactly who he was even if you hadn't been staring into his blue eyes.

You gulped, mouth suddenly dry.

He smiled at you warmly, taking you in slowly, eyes trailing over you before making their way back to your face. "How 'bout I buy you another one?"

"You--you wanna buy me a drink?" you squeaked.

He laughed. "Yeah, if you'll let me."

You nodded rapidly. "Sure."

He placed his hand on your hip to gently slide you over so he could get to the bar. Your whole body lit up, sparks igniting every nerve ending. You cleared your throat, trying desperately to be normal again.

Chris ordered you another drink before turning to address you again. He put his hand out to shake yours and said, "I'm Chris."

You shook his hand and mumbled, "I know."

He laughed, smile widening.

"Sorry--I don't mean to be awkward," you fumbled. "It's not every day you meet Chris Evans."

"Don't worry about it. Just think of me like a normal guy, buying a pretty girl a drink."

"I can work with that," you said with a smile, trying not to die when he called you 'pretty'. "I--uh, I'm (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)," he said your name as if he was tasting it. "Beautiful name."

"Thanks," you said, face heating up as a blush creeped into your cheeks.

Thankfully, the bartender finished your drink, handing it to Chris. He turned to you and handed you the drink. "Would you like to sit with me? I'd love to chat with you."

You gave him a smile you hoped looked normal. "I'd love to."

He put his hand on your lower back and gently guided you to a small table at the back of the room where it was quieter.

The two of you stayed and talked for hours, about everything and anything. You were surprised by how down-to-earth he was and you found yourself feeling incredibly comfortable with him.

You were still talking when last call went out. Chris looked surprised and you glanced around the mostly-empty bar, noticing your friends had left you.

"I didn't realize it was so late," he said.

"Yeah, my friends already left."

He glanced around. "Mine too. Can I get you a ride home?"

"Oh, thanks, but I actually live a couple blocks away. I'll just walk."

"At this time of night? Absolutely not."

Surprise lit up your face. "I do it all the time."

"What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you walk home by yourself?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Are you offering to walk me home?"

He stood up and reached out to help you up. "I am, indeed."

You laughed and slid your hand into his, letting him pull you out of your chair.

"Let me just go pay the tab," he said.

"Oh, I have to pay mine too."

"I've got it," he insisted.

"You don't have to--"

He waved you off. "Please let me. My mama raised me right."

You chuckled. "Alright, if you insist."

"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

You watched as he walked away, disbelief suddenly sinking in. You'd spent hours talking to Chris and now he was paying your tab and walking you home. What the hell is happening with your life?

"Ready?"

You smiled at him. "Absolutely."

"Lead the way, beautiful."

You couldn't help the soft sound that left your lips, but you hoped he hadn't heard you.

It was a beautiful night and the walk only took about 15 minutes. When you reached your apartment, you stopped and turned to him. "This is me."

He looked a little sad, as if he didn't want the night to end. "I have to say, I haven't enjoyed myself this much in a long time."

"Neither have I," you said honestly.

"Could--could I maybe call you?"

Surprise lit up your face for what had to be the millionth time that night. "You--you wanna call me?"

He smiled warmly. "Yeah, if you're okay with it."

"I'd love that, actually."

He took out his phone and handed it to you so you could put your number in. When you handed it back, he slid it into his pocket and took a step towards you.

You froze, allowing him to stop within an inch of touching you. He looked down at you and your eyes met his. You desperately wanted him to kiss you, but you weren't about to beg him for it.

He leaned down, pressing his lips gently to yours, taking your breath away with a soft kiss. You leaned into him, hands sliding around his neck to pull him closer.

The kiss was incredible, but so much shorter than you would have liked. When Chris separated his lips from yours, you let out a soft whimper at the loss of contact. He didn't step back and his hands didn't leave your face.

You heard yourself whisper, "Would you like to come in?"

He smiled at you, warm eyes filled with desire. "I would like that very much."

He followed you into your building and up to your apartment. The moment you were inside, he pulled you against him, lips attaching themselves to yours once more.

You weren't even sure how you made it to the bedroom, let alone how you'd lost every piece of clothing either of you had been wearing along the way.

To say the sex was incredible would be an understatement. It was, without a doubt, the best sex of your life. Chris pulled you into him afterwards and you fell asleep almost instantly.

When you woke up the next morning, you were surprised to feel an arm draped across your midsection. You turned your head and saw Chris sound asleep beside you, arm holding you tightly. You smiled at the sight, heart warming as you watched him sleep.

"You're staring, beautiful," he murmured softly.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly. "I thought you were still asleep."

"I was until you started staring into my soul," he teased, blue eyes opening to take you in.

You suddenly felt self-conscious, knowing you probably looked like a hot mess after everything that had happened the night before.

"You're so beautiful," he said reverently, reaching up to tuck a hair behind your ear.

You blushed. "Thank you."

You glanced over at the clock and gasped. "Shit! I'm gonna be late for work." You scrambled out of bed and ran to the attached bathroom.

"Sorry about that, sweets," Chris said, getting out of the bed and following you into the bathroom. "You're more than welcome to blame me for your lateness."

You laughed. "I just might." You turned on the shower and looked over at him. "Wanna shower with me real quick?"

"You don't have to ask twice."

What had begun as a night out with friends had magically turned into one of the best nights of your life and the beginning of something truly amazing.

**********

Six months later, you were back in the same karaoke bar on a Saturday night with your friends and Chris, whom you'd been secretly dating since that first night.

Well, it wasn't entirely a secret. Your friends and family knew about the relationship, but it hadn't been made public yet. You and Chris had been very careful to keep it as private as possible, for your sake more than anything. He didn't like the idea of people invading your personal life just because you were dating him.

You'd begun asking him about making the relationship public a few weeks ago. You were willing to sacrifice your privacy if it meant being truly with him. It hadn't been very long, but you both already knew that this was going to be a long-term thing. You couldn't keep living like this and you knew it was taking a toll on him as well.

Your best friend, Andi, had suggested getting together at the karaoke bar you and Chris had met at. In her estimation, it was past time for the two of you to be together in public. Much to your surprise, Chris agreed.

You were all sitting comfortably at a table towards the back of the bar, relaxing and chatting. Your friends were talking about some nonsense and you turned to look at Chris. He was completely engaged in the conversation, nodding and laughing along with your friends' antics.

It warmed your heart to see him so happy and engaged with the people you loved. He was always so sweet and good with them, just like he was with you. You loved him so much, but you hadn't been completely comfortable admitting it to him just yet. It's like that old saying, 'when you know, you know'; and you sure as hell knew.

"Babe," Chris said again, waving his hand in front of your face.

"Hmm?" you hummed, shaking your head to clear it.

"Where was that pretty little head at?" he asked lightly.

"I was just thinking...nothing important."

He clearly didn't believe you, but he let it go. "I'm gonna go sign up to sing. Wanna come with me?"

"Oh lord. I think I'm going to decline tonight."

He shook his head. "You're missing out," he teased as he got up and headed to the other side of the bar.

"Hey," Andi said as she elbowed you gently. "What's up with you tonight?"

You shrugged. "My mind is somewhere else, that's all. But I'm okay, I promise."

Her eyes narrowed as she took you in, but her expression softened as she clearly decided to believe you. "He's really great, you know."

"I know," you smiled as you looked across the room at him.

"Oh I know that face."

"What face?"

"The one you're making, (Y/N)."

"I'm not making a face."

She raised an eyebrow. "Mhm. Sure." She leaned in closer and whispered, "You love him."

Your eyes widened and your head whipped in her direction. "Shh!"

"I whispered it!" she insisted. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"You're not wrong," you mumbled.

"Have you told him?"

"Not yet."

"You have to!" she insisted.

"You love 'love' a little too much," you teased.

"I know," she said dreamily. "I just love seeing you so happy, babe."

You leaned against her. "I really am happy."

She wrapped you in a tight hug. "Love you."

"Love you too, weirdo."

Chris made his way back to the table. "I'm up in two songs."

"What did you pick to sing?" you asked.

"It's a surprise," he said with a wink.

"As long as it's not WAP or something like that," Cole said dryly.

Everyone laughed.

"I would pay to hear you sing that," you said, laughing loudly.

"I promise it's not that," Chris insisted, still giggling.

The conversation drifted to other topics and you were engrossed in it. So much so, that you missed Chris getting up to go to the stage.

"Hey, everyone," he said into the mic.

You turned your head to look in the direction of the stage at the sound of Chris's voice.

"This song goes out to someone very special to me."

"Aww," Andi whispered.

"Shut up," you said lightly.

The first notes of the song started and your breath caught in your chest. It was a newer song, but Chris had been walking around his house and yours singing it for weeks.

Girl I wanted to apologize

For the way I've been acting lately

I been doing all kinda things

I probably just drive you crazy.

Gotta get it off my chest

Oh, and it just can't wait

It's something I ain't told you yet,

Baby, I just gotta say

Your heart was thumping in your chest loudly enough that you were certain your friends could hear it over the music. You knew every word to this song since Chris loved it so much.

Girl, I'm sorry for kissing you in front of everybody

For saying that we should leave the party

Soon as we walk in it

Have you outta that dress in a minute.

You hate it when I say it

You're so beautiful you oughta be famous

My bad.

Go ahead, you can blame it on me

If I love you too much, I'm sorry.

You couldn't breathe. For the first time since he first started singing this song, you let the words fully sink in. Your only thought was 'Is he saying that to me?'

Your friends were looking over at you to gauge your reaction, but you couldn't take your eyes off the man on stage. His gaze rested on you as he sang and you could hear the emotion in his voice. An emotion you couldn't quite place...or maybe just too afraid to.

Sorry for coming home early

When I was out with the boys downtown,

But there ain't nothing I'd rather do

Than come home and lay you down.

'Cause, baby, you're so perfect

I can't get you off my mind

So if I miss you

Gotta kiss you like a thousand times.

Andi leaned over to you. "Has he ever told you he loves you?"

You just shook your head.

"Well, I think he just did," she whispered.

Oh, I'm sorry for kissing you in front of everybody

For saying that we should leave the party

Soon as we walk in it

Have you outta that dress in a minute.

You hate it when I say it

You're so beautiful you oughta be famous

My bad.

Go ahead, you can blame it on me

If I love you too much, I'm sorry.

Other people in the bar had started looking in your direction, following the direction of Chris's gaze. Normally that would bother you, but in this moment, you couldn't get yourself to care. All you could think about was the way he was looking at you, mixed with the words coming out of his mouth.

'Cause I want you

And I need you

If I tell you too much

Then I just gotta say it

I'm sorry, mmm, I'm sorry.

Your body was reacting to his voice in the way it always did and you wanted him badly, more than you could recall ever wanting him before. You knew the song was coming to an end and you couldn't help but sing along to the last chorus.

I'm sorry for kissing you in front of everybody

For saying that we should leave the party

Soon as we walk in it

Have you outta that dress in a minute.

You hate it when I say it

You're so beautiful you oughta be famous

My bad.

Go ahead, you can blame it on me

If I love you too much, I'm sorry.

"You okay, girl?" Andi asked as Chris finished up the song.

"I think so," you said softly.

She squeezed your hand and you watched as Chris walked off the stage and started coming towards you. Several people's gazes followed him, trying to see exactly where he was going, and more importantly, who he was going to.

When he reached you, he didn't even hesitate. He leaned down and kissed you deeply in front of your friends and a room full of strangers. Your friends started whooping and other people in the bar clapped.

He pulled away from you, expression unreadable. "Wanna get outta here, baby?" he whispered in your ear.

"Please," you whimpered. You blushed, embarrassed by the pleading tone of your voice.

He pulled you out of your chair and practically dragged you towards the door. You gave Andi a look and she grinned ear to ear, waving at you as your boyfriend pulled you away.

He pulled out his phone as soon as you got outside and started typing.

"Baby? What are you doing?"

"Calling an Uber."

"Why? It's a 15 minute walk."

He turned to look at you with a hungry look. His pupils were lust-blown and you finally took the time to notice the desire literally oozing from his pores. "I'm not going to make it that long," he practically growled.

Warmth flooded your core at his tone, coupled with the way he was looking at you. You were lost for words, so you just nodded at him.

He squeezed your hand as you waited for the Uber, and thankfully you didn't have to wait long. You found yourself in front of your apartment door less than 5 minutes later.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tried to unlock the door. You could feel his erection against your lower back as he pressed against you.

"Baby, unlock that door a little faster or I'm going to kick it down," he said, breathing heavily in your ear from behind you.

"I'm trying, but you're not making this easy, Christopher," you hissed.

He grinned against the skin of your neck, planting kisses and bite marks anywhere he could see.

You finally got the door unlocked and the two of you practically fell inside the apartment. It was reminiscent of your first time together, but his hunger tonight was absolutely unparalleled.

He spun you around and pressed you against the door, lips attacking yours instantly. He wedged his knee between your legs and you gasped as his lips descended to your jaw.

"Chris," you whimpered.

"I've got you, baby," he murmured against the column of your throat. "Gonna make you feel so good."

He gripped your hips and pulled you closer so you were flush to his body. The shift moved your clothed core against his thigh and you moaned at the friction.

He groaned softly. "Use my leg, pretty girl," he moved your hips in a slow rhythm. "That's it, baby."

Your head fell back against the door and you moaned again. "I want you, baby, please," you begged.

"Yeah, sweets? What'cha want?"

"I want you now, Chris. Please. Just fuck me."

He growled lowly. "Anything for you, baby."

He started to take your clothes off, hands tracing the curves he loved so much. He had you completely naked in less than a minute, but the only piece of clothing he allowed you to remove from his body was his shirt.

You watched him as he dropped to his knees in front of you and your eyes widened in surprise. "Baby?"

His eyes flicked up to yours. "Just lean back and let me take care of you."

He grabbed your leg and lifted it over his shoulder, giving him the access he needed to get to your core. He didn't even bother to tease you, diving into you with the hunger of a starving man.

You gasped in pleasure, hand immediately going to his hair, fingers entangling themselves in the thick locks.

Your moans mixed with the salacious sounds coming from between your legs, and you would have been embarrassed if it didn't feel just so damn incredible.

He moaned into your core as he messily slurped up your juices, tongue moving to focus on your clit. He slipped a finger inside of you, followed by another, curling his fingers in a come hither motion.

"Chris!" you cried in pleasure, fingers tightening on his hair.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?"

"Don't stop," you begged.

Chris grinned and went back to work between your thighs, coaxing you to your climax with skilled fingers and mouth.

Your legs began to shake as you reached your high, thighs trying to close around his head. Your voice was nothing but broken moans and whimpers of pleasure.

Chris's hands were the only thing keeping you upright as you came down. He stood up, holding you against him, making sure you didn't fall.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, hands sliding down to your butt. "Can you jump for me, sweets?" he whispered against your lips.

He held onto your butt as you attempted a jump, his strong arms the only thing ensuring you didn't fall on the floor. You wrapped your legs around him and he carried you to the bedroom.

He tossed you onto the bed with a grin. Instead of crawling onto the bed with you, he started to slowly remove his jeans.

"Are you stripping for me, handsome?" you teased lightly.

He grinned wolfishly. "You like it?"

"I love it." You loved everything about him, physically, mentally, emotionally...all of it. The whole package.

He removed his pants completely, leaving him in just his boxer briefs. You eyed the large bulge, mouth watering as you thought about tasting him.

"C'mere," you said softly.

He smiled and crawled onto the bed, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. You pulled him down on top of you, hooked your leg around his hips, and flipped him over.

You straddled his hips, legs spread wide to fit around his width. He looked up at you in slight surprise, not used to you taking charge in the bedroom.

"What'cha doin', gorgeous?"

You smirked at him and slowly moved down his body, allowing yourself space to remove his underwear. You tossed them onto the floor and lowered yourself down to take him into your mouth.

"Fuck--that's it baby," he groaned.

You bobbed your head, tongue tracing the thick vein running down his shaft. You focused attention on his head, eliciting sharp moans from his throat.

Chris's fingers were entangled in your hair and he began to tug on it slightly. "Baby, you gotta stop--I'm--I'm gonna cum."

You moaned around his cock and he groaned in pleasure. He tugged on your hair more harshly, pulling you off his cock. You whined in displeasure, but that quickly turned to a shocked gasp as he flipped you onto your back.

"Sorry, babe, but I wanna cum inside you."

"How can I say no to that?" You pulled him towards you and he kissed your lips roughly.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance and you inhaled sharply. "Please, Chris," you whimpered.

"I've got you, gorgeous."

He started to enter you and your nails dug into his shoulders as his thick cock stretched your tight walls. No matter how many times you had sex, he always stretched you more than you'd ever been stretched before.

He thrust into you, burying himself entirely. He didn't give you time to adjust to his girth before he began to fuck you into the mattress, setting a relentless pace.

You cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, your nails buried into his back.

He groaned into your neck. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Squeezing me so nice."

"Chris, I'm--so close," you gasped out.

"I've got you. Let go for me, pretty girl."

Chris picked up his pace a little, thrusts slamming into your sweet spot, sending bright flashes of pleasure through your body.

Your nails raked down his back, eliciting a growl from deep in his chest. He loved it when you marked him up; he wore them like badges of honor.

"Cum for me baby, I know you're close."

Your moans were loud enough you were certain the neighbors could hear, but you couldn't find it in you to care. You held onto him as your orgasm crashed into you, coming apart with cries of his name.

Your orgasm triggered his and he came with a series of curses and a loud groan of your name, his seed filling you up.

He kissed all over your face and neck as you both came down from your highs. "That's my girl," he whispered. "Did so well for me."

He slowly pulled out and rolled to your side. He kissed you one more time, before getting up to grab a washcloth. When he came back, he cleaned you up gently before crawling back into the bed with you.

You settled in against his chest with a sigh. He pulled you in close and laid a kiss against the top of your head.

You finally had a moment to think about what had happened earlier in the evening and your mind began to race.

Chris seemed to sense your change in demeanor, feeling your body tense in his arms. "You okay, sweets?" he asked softly.

You nodded.

"Hey," he whispered. "Talk to me."

You slowly sat up and turned your body to look at him. You traced the design of one of the tattoos on his chest, eyes watching the movement of your fingers. "So...the song," you began.

"Yeah?"

"I shouldn't read too much into that, should I?"

He gently grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. "Look at me, pretty girl."

You lifted your eyes to meet his, biting your lip in worry.

He touched your face gently, eyes filled with adoration. "You're so beautiful you oughta be famous," he sang softly. "If I love you too much, I'm sorry."

Your breath caught in your chest and tears welled in your eyes.

"I meant every word, (Y/N)," he murmured. "I know we haven't been together all that long, but I love you so much. I can't imagine my life without you."

"Chris..." you whispered.

"You don't have to say anything, sweets, but I wanted you to know how I felt and that I don't wanna hide this anymore. I want the entire world to know I'm yours."

"Kiss me," you said softly.

He smiled and leaned forward to kiss you gently. He poured everything he was feeling into that kiss, and you did the same.

"God, you're so beautiful," he said reverently when he pulled away.

You blushed. "I love you, Chris," you whispered.

His eyes widened in surprise. "You do?"

You nodded. "I wanted to tell you a couple weeks ago, but I didn't want to scare you."

He chuckled lightly. "I thought I was going to scare you."

"I don't scare that easily," you teased.

"Thank god," he said with a smile.

"So...I guess we're public now?"

"I don't wanna hide this anymore, especially if you don't want to."

You shook your head. "I don't like the idea of strangers being in my business, but I love you, so it's worth it."

He pulled you back into him. "I love you, I love you, I love you," he mumbled into your hair.

You laughed and planted a kiss to his chest.

"Seriously, I'm going to say it all the damn time now. You'll get tired of hearing it."

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing it."

"Good," he kissed your forehead. "'Cause I love you."

You laughed as you curled into him. "I love you too, dork."

He sighed happily. "I don't think I'll get tired of hearing it either."

You settled into him comfortably and traced the words 'I love you' on his chest, just to make sure he knew exactly how you were feeling.

He squeezed you tightly and kissed the top of your head one last time before settling in to sleep. "Sweet dreams, my love."

"Sweet dreams, Chris."

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Awkward Flirting Masterlist

A Book, An Umbrella, and Two Carmel Macchiatos (ao3) - koleen

Summary: A Coffeeshop AU. Mute!Phil.

a game of chance (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: Phil worked at Chance and Counters, a board game cafe in North East London. One definite perk of the last few weeks had been the guy who Phil was now delivering a coffee too. Phil had been smitten from the second he stepped through the door which was something he now wished he hadn’t told his friend and manger Nate, so he could have saved himself being teased every time Cute Dan (as Phil had affectionately called him after overhearing someone say his name) came in

all i want for christmas (is you) (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summary: He finds himself huffing out a small, high-pitched laugh that he couldn’t even dream of passing off as part of his natural register. “Hah… yeah. Mhm. Nice. Morn… ing. Yup. Sure is.”

Dan’s smile falls a tiny bit, a hint of confusion flickering behind his eyes. Unfortunately, that’s an expression Phil is all too familiar with receiving.

AU where Dan is Phil's Christmas coworker crush, and awkward boys are awkward.

blanket of stars (ao3) - silentdescant

Summary: “That’s all for now, thank you.”

“I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

The whole script is so routine, Phil thinks his brain would short-circuit if either of them deviated from it. Dan walks away and Phil sinks lower in his seat, sighing into his blue drink.

“When are you gonna ask him out, man?” Martyn asks.

Blushes and A Cup of Coffee (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil was expecting one of the stereotypical first questions, ‘what’s your favourite colour?’ Or ‘where were you born?”

Instead, Dan asked, “Do you like coffee?” and Phil couldn’t help the short bark of laughter that he let out at the strange question.

Or

The two idiots and their first date

Birds of a Feather Steal Together (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan never expected anything remotely interesting to happen during his summer job at a petting zoo. But when he catches a boy with bright blue eyes and a cute laugh trying to smuggle a bunch of ducklings out of the farm, things take a much more interesting turn...

blow a kiss, fire a gun (ao3) - The General Phanchild (orphan_account)

Summary: "If I don't improve... he'll absolutely obliterate me. And there's nothing I can do to stop him." Secret Agent “Gold,” or Dan Howell, is less than thrilled when he is forced to team up with new recruit “Amethyst,” Phil Lester. Phil is a former trainee; clumsy and overly apologetic, while Dan’s six years of experience have left him skilled and stealthy, yet completely emotionless. Throughout their mission to bring a mysterious super-villain to justice while travelling the city of Tokyo, Phil tries to come to terms with his illogical fear of Dan, while realising what Dan's true intentions with him are.

could’ve knocked me out with a feather (ao3) - deletable_bird

Summary: “Thank you, love you,” says the guy, and freezes. Dan’s smile suddenly feels a lot more genuine.

Cross My Heart (ao3) - kitchen_sinks

Summary: Armed with nothing but a baseball bat, it’s Dan versus the mysterious stranger who’s broken into his flat, but oh wait he’s kind of hot… Awkward flirting and bandaging of injuries ensue.

Lights, Camera, Satisfaction (ao3) - americanphancakes

Summary: Dan's landed a dream acting role, working with a director he's always admired but is now crushing on badly. And today, he has to shoot a love scene. What could go wrong?

The Director!Phil AU that actually several people asked for.

New Year, New Us (ao3) - BlueFox1319, UnusPhanus

Summary: “Dan hurry we are going to be late, PJ and the others will be here any minute to pick us up! It’s already seven, we need to be at the restaurant by eight!” Phil yelled down the hall at his boyfriend. December 31st, New Year's Eve, every year the pair went out with friends and spent the first night of the new year together. For Dan and Phil, tonight would be a little different though, Phil had been planning this for months

possibly, maybe, i’m falling (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summery: It’s just another boring day at Dan’s summer internship. Luckily, there’s an accidental coffee date waiting for him at the customer service desk.

Prestissimo (ao3) - worriedpeach (skeletonflowers)

Summery: When Dan starts to get notes in his locker in the form of terrible pick up lines, he doesn't know who it could be and he doesn't really care. All he cares about is his violin and his studies. He could care less about the nonchalant cellist who never seems to take anything seriously.

Professionally, Yours (ao3) - deletable_bird

Summary: Dan is an overworked, underpaid, very homosexual uni student in need of an easy job. Phil is a successful, rather lonely businessman in need of a housekeeper. This is their story. Fluff/smut, 31.2k, written for the Phandom Big Bang 2016

Three Tattoos (ao3) - greensweater

Summery: When a talkative, blue-eyed boy named Phil Lester walks into Dan Howell's tattoo parlor one dusky autumn afternoon, Dan isn't sure what to make of him. But when Phil keeps coming back, their one-time connection grows into friendship, and eventually, something more.

Two Blushing Pilgrims (ao3) - hxwell

Summary: "Our teacher ships the two of us and we're reading Romeo and Juliet" au//Dan owns 7 pairs of the same jeans and high-fives everyone he sees while Phil listens to Neutral Milk Hotel and paints in his spare time

[avids-fanfiction-reqs]

I love all of your works and am I huge Cypher lover and would love to see a protective/jealous Cypher x Reader!

My first time actually writing a Cypher x Reader on request, so I hope it's okay!!! Also, this is unedited, so apologies if there are any typos!

Cypher is a man who has seen his fair share of heartbreak and carnage.

Because of this, he's extremely protective over those he holds dear, even if the relationship hasn't been discussed or officially established.

So when one day, you're out at a bar near the Protocol compound with the Moroccan surveillance expert, the events that unfold don't exactly come as a shock.

The pair of you walk into the nearest bar to the Valorant compound. It's a place that isn't exactly classy with its musty odor and walls yellowed by a combination of nicotine and time. Normally it's a place you wouldn't be caught dead in. However, the next nearest bar, club, or anything even remotely fun is another 50 miles away and you simply don't have time for that.

Hell, you're lucky you have the few hours you managed to snag as it is.

Not to mention, the bar isn't all bad. You've made friends with the bartender over time and if you ask nicely, he'll usually let you change the music to something with a little more bump to it.

As you walk in, though, you notice Cypher tense next to your shoulder. You can't tell for sure with his face hidden behind his mask, but you think he's observing the room, a habit you've noticed from him time and time again.

You give him a gentle pat on the arm and say, "Come on. It's just a few hours. What could possibly go wrong?" You would have patted his shoulder, but he stands much taller than you do.

In response, he says simply, "More than you think."

You smirk at him, ever amused by his regularly cryptic comments. "Well, stand here all you like. I'm going to go get a drink."

Without waiting for an answer, you saunter off toward the bartender, flashing him a bright pair of excited eyes as he pulls out his phone to allow you to change the music.

An hour or so in and you're not quite drunk but you're definitely a little tipsy. The bartender has been slipping you free shots here and there, much to Cypher's disdain. As a man who keeps his wits about him, he's bewildered by your ability to cast aside your intuitions for a night of fun.

As you chat up the bartender about his favorite songs and the best local hangouts, however, you notice the man who has been seated beside you silently becoming increasingly fidgety.

"Cypher," You lower your voice as your drunken smile falters ever so slightly. "Are you okay?"

You've become so used to reading his emotions even through his mask by now that you can tell his jaw has tightened by the way the material flexes on his face.

"I am just worried for your safety, that is all." You can tell he's doing his best to make it seem like nothing, but you also know better.

"Okay, okay!" You throw your hands up and laugh lightly, giving in to what you know he wants. "I'm finished drinking. I'm gonna go to the bathroom and we can leave as soon as I get back, kay?"

The material on his face flexes again, becomes looser. He's smiling under there. "Thank you."

You flash him a gentle grin and stand, stumbling a bit as your feet find the floor. Hands hook themselves under your arms, steadying you.

"Easy there," Cypher says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I'm alright," You affirm before wandering off to find the restrooms.

A few moments later, you walk back out onto the main floor of the bar, casting your eyes around to look for Cypher. You aren't sure if it's the alcohol or the sudden crowd that seems to have poured in while you were gone, but you can't quite locate him.

"Hey there, hot stuff." A man with a scruffy beard and a beer in hand is in front of you suddenly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Looking for somebody?"

Your brow furrows at the contact. More of the booze you've drunk tonight hit your system while you were in the bathroom and now you're having a little trouble thinking. "Yeah, I'm looking for my friend. I can't seem to find him though."

The man in front of you grins, his teeth stained yellow and breath reeking of cigarettes. "Well, that's no problem. I can be your new friend. How about it?"

Even through the drunken haze, you can tell this conversation is going nowhere good. A pang of fear is beginning to knot up your stomach. "Yeah, I don't think so. Cy-!"

You begin to yell for Cypher, afraid of what might happen if the man in front of you gets angry at your response. Before you can, however, he puts a finger up to your lips to hush you. "Shhh." He says, "No need to shout. Let's just take a second and get to know each other. That's what bars are for, right?"

Now you're really uncomfortable. Your skin is crawling, and all you want is for the interaction to come to an end. Unfortunately, the man in front of you doesn't look like he has any plans to concede.

"Look," you say, "I really need to go."

The man scoffs angrily, taking a swig of his beer. "Yeah? Well, I'm not going anywhere until you give your number."

Your face burns at his gall, and you open your mouth to fire off a haughty retort. Before you can, however, a black-gloved hand clamps tightly onto the man's shoulder.

"I believe the lady said she'd like to be left alone." Cypher's voice washed over you, and even though his tone was laced with ice and venom, it washed over you like a warm summer breeze.

"Yeah?" The man said as he swung around to face whoever dared to confront him. "Who's going to make-"

He stopped as he finally laid eyes on your partner. While not the most threatening person at the Protocol (that was a merit reserved for Reyna), Cypher was a tall man with toned muscles that were easily visible through the white, turtleneck coat he currently had on. Combine that with a mask that revealed only a pair of piercing blue eyes, and it was a sight that made the much smaller man freeze in his tracks.

"Look man, I don't want to start anything. I just wanted—"

"I don't care." The slight R roll in Cypher's voice made it sound almost like a purr to your drunken ears, and you had to hold back a laugh as the man who had seemed so threatening a moment ago now quaked in his cowboy boots.

The man tensed angrily but nodded, lowering his head as he slinked away. Once he was gone, Cypher turned his attention toward you.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did he put his hands on you?" The questions rolled quickly from his tongue as he grabbed your face with a gentle hand, turning it from side to side and then checking the rest of you for you didn't even know what.

"Cypher," you giggled, "I'm okay. You really don't have to be so protective over me."

"Oh," He retorts back, taking your hand tightly in his as he leads you toward the exit, "I most certainly do."

[xiaosmoon]

what tattoos they would have.

feat. childe, diluc, & kaeya.

warnings: none.

childe.

- i imagine him to be the type with a bunch of tattoos littered all over him in a modern au. but realistically? i could see him having a tattoo on his lower left side abdomen. it would be blank inked of his harbinger mask.

- he wouldn't ever show off his tattoo to you intentionally; mostly because he forgets it's even there. it's on the opposite side of his lil peep hole so you would probably never see it unless he's walking around shirtless.

- childe probably doesn't even remember why he got it in the first place. it's not like he's proud of being a harbinger, even though he uses his title to his advantage all the time. ("i am the 11th of the fatui harbingers. that's why. now go, fetch me something to eat.") more so a symbol of who he is. and that he shouldn't forget what he's done to get that position.

- the first time you see the tattoo you're a bit taken back and confused. why get a tattoo of his mask?

the both of you rarely get time to yourselves. with childe always on fatui business and you caught up in your own work, lounging around the house and doing absolutely nothing was a luxury. you were in the kitchen cooking up a lovely meal for childe and yourself. too focusing on deciding which seasoning you should use, the arms that were slowing making their way around your body surprised you. "hello." you smiled, adding paprika to your pot. childe had just gotten out of the shower and his head was resting on your shoulder, wet hair brushing against the crook of your neck. "ugh childe, you're wet." you wiggle out of his embrace and turn around to meet his figure.

"what are you cooking? smells delicious." childe peers into the pot behind you.

your cheeks heated up at the sight of him. shirtless. you were new to this relationship and this was your first ever time seeing him shirtless. you were quite afraid to speak, scared that your words would come out as a jumbled mess.

he looked beautiful like this. wet hair, bright blue eyes, built arms, and- wait. is that a tattoo? making it obvious that you were staring, childe flicked ur head playfully. "like what you see?" you roll your eyes at the cliche saying and turn back to your cooking.

"i like your tattoo." childe smiles at your comment and hops up on the counter next to you. "i got it a few months ago. i honestly forget it's still there sometimes."

"maybe i should get one and we can match!"

"absolutely not."

diluc.

- this man would absolutely have a tattoo of a bird and no one can tell me otherwise. i can see him going for more of a minimal look and would have one on his upper back. it would be a small bird, nothing too noticeable.

- like childe, diluc wouldn't show off his tattoo but for different reasons. partially because he regrets getting it.

- he also tends to forget about it because he can't see it.

- the first time you see his tattoo would be when you both hit the beach.

it was a very hot summer day, so what a better to do than spend it at the beach with your boyfriend? convincing diluc to come with you was no easy task. this man can physically not vacation. even to mention a vacation would send him into panic. "a vacation? now? but there's so much to do; i couldn't possibly pack up and leave. who's going to manage the orders coming in next week? and what about-"

yeah you get the idea.

but when eventually you were able to convince him, diluc was all in. and at the beach there was no way he would wear his daily attire. a heavy coat and covered head to toe? absolutely not. he was laying down next to you in nothing but a pair of swim shorts and you couldn't deny you enjoyed the view. it was rare for you to see diluc without heavy clothing and you definitely wouldn't mind seeing him like this more.

"diluc, do you want me to put sunscreen on you? i'm scared you're going to fry." you ask in a teasing manner. diluc smiles up at you sits up more. "it's alright dear i can do it myself. thank you for reminding me, i'm afraid i really would fry." with his pale ass i wouldn't let him go an hour without reapplying.

rubbing sunscreen all over himself, diluc meets a issue; not being able to get his back. "dear, would you mind?" his sheepish smile tells you what he needs. you motion him to turn his back to you and that's when you see it, his beautiful bird tattoo. you squirt some sunscreen into your hand and immediately start at the tattooed area. "i didnt know you had a tattoo." "hm? oh, i forgot about that thing."

you smile and continue rubbing until you're done. "it's pretty." diluc blushes a little at the comment. "thank you. now turn around, let me get your back."

kaeya.

- this man. this lovely man. if anyone would have a tattoo it would be him. and he wouldn't just have one, no, he would have two. one on the inner upper side of his left forearm, your birthday in roman numerals. the second one right on his boob (couldn't decide which one) of a pavo ocellus constellation and it would be very beautiful.

- i don't know why he got the pavo ocellus one, but he got the one of your birthday cause he loves you and says it's the "best day in the world." he would totally surprise you with it.

- i feel like kaeya is the type to have a meaningful tattoos and would also flaunt them.

- he'll be at the tavern taking to his drinking buddies and just bring up his tattoos. "hey did i ever tell you i got y/n's birthday tattooed on my arm? yeah! look!"

it was the day after your birthday and you were exhausted. amber threw a huge surprise party for you at angel's share and you were dancing and drinking all night, leaving you burnt out the next day.

jean allowed you the day off so you spent it at home, relaxing and writing thank you cards to everyone who brought you gifts. kaeya's gift to you was the prettiest of them all. a beautiful necklace with your favorite flower on it, made of pure diamonds. you weren't one for expensive jewelry but the one who gifted it to you made it worth it.

kaeya came home that evening with the dorkiest smile on his face. his usual sly and flirty demeanor was not present. "y/n, guess whattttt" he dragged out his words plopping next to you on the couch. you were a bit worried, you've never seen kaeya have the expression of a happy child who looks like they just bought all of the candy in the candy shop. "what is it?" you raise a brow at him. he throws out his arm in front of you quickly, making you flinch a bit. it takes a moment for you to see what he was showing you but oh my, what a beautiful tattoo.

it was your birthday. you look back up at him and smile. "that's very cute of you kae. looks like i'll just have to get your birthday on me too!"

his flirty dark smile makes its appearance again. "can i choose where?"

"no."

[builder051]

Adverse Effects (ch.4 Who's calling what now? No one signed up for this.)

A chasing Ghosts story. Last chapter. I promise. It will come to an ending.

Warnings: The usual: college drinking, drug use, alcohol, flashbacks to war/bad childhood/etc., seizures, emeto, migraines, photosensitivity, threats (mild, like calling the cops on a party), mentions of hospitals/ambulances, petty crime, bad choices... That should cover the basics. This one is tamer than the previous chapter.

___________________

Steve puts his arm around James's shoulders and approaches the bouncer from the head of the VIP line.

"You paid ahead?" He looks uncomfortable in his fitted black jacket. The bouncer sticks his finger between his collar and his neck. His tie's definitely a clip on.

"Um, no," Steve says. "But we're just here to look for our little sister. She might've come in with a football player?"

The bouncer narrows his eyes. "You trying to say I don't check IDs? That I'm not so good at my job?"

"No, sir." Steve answers, putting his free hand up, with his palm open and his elbow locked at 90 degrees. "Not at all."

James wonders if Steve wants him to pipe up, but he doesn't have a lot of confidence in his ability to speak. Plus, he's interested in what Steve will say next.

"She has a fake." Steve feigns shame, sucking in his lip. "I've been trying to get it off her, get her to lay off the partying. It's not like her 21st is that far away."

Laughter makes easy punctuation. Steve knows good and well that Tasha's barely tipped 19, but his... attractiveness, James guesses? Steve's straight nose and perma-cheery personality, and everyone just assumes he's telling the truth. James has never had that power, and he's still in the dark as to how it works.

"Your little sister?" The bouncer looks pointedly at Steve, then moves his gaze to James, who probably resembles a shaggy-haired scarecrow with the fold of Steve's jacket behind his neck. They probably look more buddy-buddy than pair mated.

"So, you guys, like, brothers?"

Steve shifts and pulls out his wallet. "It's not that important. Here, I have my ID. We're both over 21."

"What's with him?" The bouncer gives James a severe look. He probably thinks he's already wasted, which, honestly, isn't a bad guess. "Why's he not talking?"

James lifts his chin an inch or so. He's going for neutral. Battle casual. The way you're meant to watch the slide show and the commanding officer giving the brief at the same time. Interested. Respectful. But not oogling. Not creepy. He hopes his clenched jaw isn't too obvious. That would be a good baseline, at least.

"Disabled vet, man." Steve uses his powers again. Informing. Reminding. Putting people in their place. But not in a pushy, rude, ego-trampling way.

Steve doesn't pull that card a lot. A little strategic, maybe, but he and James don't play the system as much as they probably could. Steve care is much better than public accessibility and the VA. But, bus seating, the movie theater exit row, idling the car in the fire lane... They are benefits, and, as much as James hates admitting it, they are beneficial to him. There is a fine line between getting what he needs and losing his identity to the system, though. And crossing over is one of James's greatest fears.

Right this moment, though, he'll take what he can get. An explanation is definitely called for, because otherwise, his presence tonight makes no sense.

If Steve passes for the worried brother, James is sure he looks like that one embarrassing friend, the big-guy-lightweight, the shower-not-grower who gets wasted early and winds up at the literal mercy of his friends, lest he wake up naked in somebody's front yard, clueless, apologetic, and unaware that this is a serial habit.

It's almost amusing-- James has no alcohol in his system. And no drugs. Well, except caffeine. The prescription medications in his bloodstream, fading rapidly to levels far lower than therapeutic, probably aren't providing much protection from the migraine about to crack over his head, or a seizure grabbing onto autopilot at any moment.

Being out at would-be-bedtime is not a smart idea. But recharging with his next doses of meds brings on immediate hibernation. He's stuck between hell and, well, hell. Fuck Tasha and this goddamn mission. Whether James is the ride-along or the brother, the football player or the treadmill fixer, America's bravest on honorable discharge, or just a guy losing his shit, it isn't important. Steve's already said so.

The bouncer is forcing a stalemate, though. That's the thing about Steve. He protects his own, but he doesn't fight back. He builds walls. Agrees to disagree

It's James that has a crusty edge, bringing them together as a balanced team. Couple. Whatever you want to call it. James can't always stop the sharpness in his tone, but it comes in quite useful when the server needs to really, leave the spilled coffee, don't ask if he's ok, and don't dial 911. James will have his panic attack in the bathroom, then throw some napkins on the spill, and slink out the back door. There's a reason he doesn't like eye contact.

He has to, sparingly, look into the bouncer's face, though. James sighs, willing all parts of his body and bodily fluids into their respective places, if only for the moment.

"Look," James says. "We're trying to help you do your job."

The bouncer seems around James's age. Maybe a little younger. A little heavier. Not so much life experienced etched in lines around his eyes. Or perhaps he's always had oily skin and resided in a humid climate. James would take him on, one to nothing, in just about any contest of strength. Darts. Dash-n-grab. Probably not Greco-Roman wrestling, though. Then the dude would probably just sit on him.

"Tasha's a turd. It's just, like, what she does." James makes the mistake of shrugging his flesh-set in silicone-set in metal shoulder. It only sets off a mild tingling, and he didn't really mean to do it; it was just that his other arm was busy keeping him upright by wedging between two of Steve's upper ribs. If he doesn't think about it, it shouldn't set off all the bells and whistles. And phantom limb pain, really? That's left him alone for, what, a year? Now is definitely not the time.

James bites down on his lip and his tongue a few times. He tries speaking again. "You know, like the big brother and the guy friend, or the dad friend, or whatever? Checking out the new boyfriend? To see if he's cool? Like, clean?" Perhaps he'll catch the bouncer on a more personal level?

But that just makes the guy look torn. He glances to his counterpart, who is turned away as he deals with the sluggish non-VIP line. Then he looks back to James and Steve, brows lowered.

James, despite the chaos in his head, knows perfectly what the bouncer is thinking. It's fair, and it's probably what he'd do in the reverse of the situation. It's most definitely what Steve would do.

"Well," the bouncer jerks his thumb over the velvet rope. "Go to that line and show your IDs--"

They don't have time for that. More specifically, James doesn't have the patience for that. And the quicker Steve vacates his stupid parking spot, the better.

James nabes his lip with his front teeth and splits it. He tastes blood, anyway, which is marginally better than bile, though it will look worse when it all inevitably comes up.

James knows what they have to do. It's not among the 27 thousand slapstick solutions he and Steve talked through earlier, during the mission planning session, but this is better. And it's going to work.

A snort of wry laughter escapes through James's nose as he carefully chooses his words. Or, as it be, silent stand-ins.

James nudges Steve in the armpit, then points his gaze to the iPhone protruding a centimeter or so from Steve's pocket. On the way of raising his head up, James twitches in the bouncer's direction. Then, using as little energy as possible, he locks eyes with Steve. Just long enough to ensure he catches and returns the smile, nod, and flash of a wink.

"What?" The bouncer asks loudly, flatly, and with a spit spray of matching intensity. "You--?"

"Well," Steve clears his throat. "We could do that. Wait in the other line." He pauses. "Or we could make a call and have you raided for having and serving underage customers."

The bouncer goes a bit pale. He adjusts the back of his hat. Tilts his clipboard just enough so they can see the pages upon it are completely blank.

Steve makes a fine line with his lips. "It's the truth, mam. We gotta, you know, do the right thing."

The bouncer swallows heavily. Taps his blank pages. Maybe inciting a tremor.

Now it's James's turn. "Or, you could let us in, grab the fucking rascal, and get out of here. Maybe we won't call the cops." James stops to take a breath. "Or your boss. Main number's on the website, right? Google Maps pin?"

"Uh--" The bouncer stutters. He's nodding, whether he's aware of it or not. People tend to agree with agressers when they pose plausible threats. It's... just something humans do. They have to be trained out of it. Plus one for the Army. And Steve's and Tasha's behaviors? Only to be expected.

"Um. Yeah?" The bouncer's voice comes out higher than it did previously. Maybe he's truly frightened. It doesn't matter. They've already closed the deal.

"Just go. Be fast. And don't go back out through this door!"

"Cool." Steve claps the bouncer on the shoulder. "Thanks. You're saving our lives."

The bouncer waves furiously at them, as if to blow them into the building and far away from him and his responsibilities. Like cops on patrol still puff up and yell "Get out of here!" at young bicyclists, even when they can recite the bylaws back, word-for-word, and explain that non-motor vehicle tickets cannot go on one's permanent record.

But nobody's exceeding the speed limit by coasting down concrete hills in the hood. That weird, neglected, unsupervised place that used to be the burbs until it got trashy and someone built new burbs, but nobody could afford to move there. It's not like anyone can afford to live here, either, in the flat neighborhoods that swallow the college a good three miles in every direction. No one bikes because it's too dangerous with the traffic, and permanent records actually are at stake, seeing as foster care and all claims of juvenile status are up and vanished. Those days of kiddie freedom are gone for good. And it sucks.

Something, though has James's attention. The thud of the bass from the dance floor? Nah, it's crappy drywall vibrating with crowd and speaker systems. Their apartment does the same thing. But it's rhythmic, synchronizing with something deep inside him. Not his auto-adjusting hearing aids. Something in his center, like his heartbeat. Except that's stupid, because vintage punk does not sustain one's most basic body systems.

It's like the air outside. It's weird. Distinctly noticeable. Almost...nostalgic? James feels as if he's been here. Like he's allowed to belong here. Maybe it's something to do with one of his past lives, rising to the surface just long enough to provide him with a whiff of familiarity before he's lost again in the overwhelming mess of tonight's activities. But... this place exists. And he could come back. With Steve. Maybe Tasha. As long as she drinks Diet Sprite and cherries.

"Ok, she's wearing purple, right?" Steve cups his hand around his mouth and leans in close to James's ear, but he still has to shout over the music and general noise.

"Yeah, like a lace thing..." James decides to spare the diatribe about trendy womens' wear and sheer tops and whether or not Tasha understands the idea of undergarments-- at all, let alone pieces appropriate to the occasion.

"Oh! I see her!" Steve points to a blurry conglomeration of people who eep dancing in and out of James's blind spot. The aura goes swimmingly with the disco ball, providing both eyes with an assault of silvery stars.

"Is Maria tall, or can she just walk better in tall shoes?" Steve stands on his toes and squints.

"No clue. Tash is great en pointe, but sucks at drag."

Steve laughs uproariously. "There has got to be a story behind that."

"Mm." James has to let go of Steve's shoulder. There's a massive increase in the pressure behind the bridge of his nose, and, somehow, logic tells him to rub hard with finger and thumb jammed into the corners of his eye sockets. James's hand is clammy. So is his face. The urge to throw up is coming on again. Pressure builds in his body. Then... he has no body. He just feels his head, with excruciating pain in his ears. His jaw. An ax cleaving his forehead--

James's foot is stuck atop the manhole cover. His toe strikes concrete. Again. Again. Why can't he lift his knee?

But then the joint breaks, and he can't support anything on that leg. There goes the hip, and with it, the other knee. James's hips are rocking. He can't control the direction of the momentum, though. That's all he needs, and then he can stand up.

Where the fuck is Steve? Why hasn't he put James back on his feet? There's a wisp of frustration, passing like a shooting star, before it all goes to hell.

James can't hear; his head buzzes with white noise so loud it's surely making blood ooze from his eardrums. He can't see. It's too bright and dark and painful all at the same time, and he can't tell if his eyes are open or closed. James struggles to recall if he has more senses, and bats out with his hand. He hits something. Hard but soft? Pants? If that's what they're called?

James must've grabbed and pulled, because the shadow of Steve bends and squats. "No, you can't have that." Steve removes James's grip from his ankle and offers his wrist instead. "Lie down. Come on. On your side."

Movement happens. James neither initiates it nor approves of it. He cares less about the weightlessness than he does about the spasms of his pylorus, but it's all lost a second later when James seems to have forgotten how to breathe.

But-- oh. Clicky sounds. Steve's watch against his teeth. At least James isn't choking anymore. But all it's good for is making a passage for expulsive vomit, which comes out all over James's face, and his shirt, and the floor.

He can do nothing to hold it down. Just as he can do nothing to stop his arms and legs and spine from twitching and spasming and sending shooting pains through his body every time a bone or joint makes contact with the solid ground.

"Buck?" Steve's hand is cool against James's cheek. Spiking a fever, giving everyone a good spare. James is an expert, even though he never does so on purpose.

Steve tries again. "You with me?"

James blinks. Makes the effort to part his lips. Pulls his fingers into his fist and tries to sign. James catches a glimpse of steve's forehead, a dash of his fine blonde hair, but, like a streak of sun between rain clouds, he can't hold on. One of James's eyes begins rolling again, and that just makes him sick.

James has tried telling Steve how the seizures feel; how they combine the symptoms of severe nausea, the pain of lying on a bed of nails, and a night of restless leg syndrome. But even that doesn't quite get to it. The episodes of uncontrollable and barely senseable body movements and misfires undo him, tear him apart, and not on the seams that are visible and easily mended. He'll recover. He'll be fine. It just...happens sometimes. Personally, James suspects the strobe. He reacts to that rare trigger, and sometimes mechanical devices detonate and events unfold beyond his control... Fuck DBT and the whole radical acceptance thing, but. Well. James doesn't care to flip another coin.

Steve's watch makes mechanical sounds. Not in James's mouth. On the floor. Steve's taken the band off his wrist, and now he glances at the time, all whilst guarding James's limp body in elbow plank. James hopes he's on his knees, even though Steve can probably do semi and full indefinitely, keeping them safely side by side.

"That's time," Steve says, a worried note in his voice. "Three minutes are up. I've got to, you know, med you and call a squad? That's the guidelines and stuff..."

James fights to get the cogs turning. Comprehension has landed. Response... he's working on it.

"God," James croaks. "No. Fuck, no." He coughs and tries to move his head. All that accomplishes is bringing on a retch and a series of tremors down his arm, which have almost certainly distracted anyone and everyone from hearing his answer.

"Hey, breathe," Steve reminds him.

James reluctantly takes the advice. He's barely come around to realizing he has a body, and that there is a world containing not only him, but also Steve. The crowd of curious bystanders remain in the ether.

"I don't think you're quite back yet." Steve speaks slowly and gently. He gives James a pat down, which only brings to light the fact that he's soaked.

"Did you even bring a wallet?" Steve pulls his hand out of James's back pocket. "Where are your meds?"

It takes a hiccup and a spasm, but James has an answer for that, too. "Car."

"Bucky, hey, I'm really sorry." Steve's practically the one shaking now. James can sense his anxiety. "The ER is down the street, but going to get the car is going to take way longer than--"

"No!" James isn't sure if he's meaning to be loud or forceful or just heard. He's not so bad off now. He can open his eyes without feeling like they're being burned with a laser now. It's not proof he can walk, or that his brain isn't still playing the old Nintendo Tanks game with itself, but it's an improvement.

James actually feels like, once somebody pulls him off the floor, he could puke a couple more times, maybe off somebody's back porch, then hustle a glass of water and a clean shirt from a buddy and take up the offer to sleep it off on the couch and devour a frozen waffle in the morning.

He's not in base housing with the other kids, though, enjoying their last few days before shipping out. James has not, nor will he ever be, a college kid riding the freedom of a dark lawn and a few hours yet till sunrise to wildly waste his time. Like...friends dunking each other in the fountain. He would totally dunk Steve in a fountain, Mr. Swimmer and all that stuff. But James isn't sure their university even has one...

What is he even doing? Why is his brain even considering this shit? Steve is the one talking sense here. James might think he knows himself, but what the hell, he's had a migraine and suspicious flashbacks all evening, so shutting up and going along with Steve is probably the better move.

"What the- Jamie? What? And you?" The last part comes with far too much accusation, but Tasha's late arrival is nothing but comically adorable.

"Sorry?" Steve says with hesitation. "We're kind of late with your...ride?"

"Huh?" Tasha understands subtlety, at least James thinks she does. She's just not good at applying it when it's not her idea to begin with. "But what happened? Tasha makes a move as if to kneel down, but with her unsteady shoes and all the puke on the floor, she winds up staying upright.

"Aw, the usual," James says hoarsely.

Steve starts talking at the same time. "We were going to pick you up. And go to... the..."

James coughs loudly again. Mostly on purpose.

"Right." Steve picks back up. "Now we have to go to the hospital, so you should go in the ambulance, and I'll go get the car." A frightened look passes his face. "If I still have a car..."

"A what about your car?" Tasha looks blankly at him.

"I might've... parked in a bad spot," Steve admits, without completely spilling the details of his mistake. "But, anyway," he moves on quickly, "You'll have to sign the consent for them to administer Versed, put him in the MRI, and put him under observation until, oh," Steve checks his watch, then bobs his head as he counts silently. "9:30 tomorrow morning?"

"I gotta stay up all night?" Tasha asks, tone verging on complainey.

"Well, were you planning to go to bed early tonight?" Steve's beaming, but his joke doesn't land.

"Fuck you." Tasha crosses her arms. The tiny triangles of her bra are, in fact, neon pink.

"Hospital pancakes are not that bad," Steve insists. He digs the car keys from his pocket. "And you are legally the next of kin."

Tasha has to pull out her claws a little, just to prove she can fight, despite her usual needy cute kitten act. She hates looking like she's capable of caretaking. Regarding herself, and everyone else.

Thing is, though, that's an act, too. She's seen James in and out of the hospital before, and she knows it turns out fine. She can be in charge of James. Take his prosthetic on and off. Shoot disgusting medicated gel into his gumline. It's nothing. And nothing like it was an hour earlier when there was imminent danger for a different member of the party.

"I know this isn't exactly like we planned for it to end," Steve says. "But I'm pretty sure we're clear of danger, uh, mostly, and all that's left is the phone call." He looks amongst them, probably to ascertain understanding, but Tasha's clearly lost, and James isn't ready to let laughter out of his throat, lest more bile come with it.

"I gotta scram before we call the cops on ourselves and I get a ticket for self-sabotage." Steve points toward the back door and it's glowing exit sign. Then he raises his brows to Tasha. "You want to do the honors? You do know the phone number, right?"

It's clearly another tease, but Steve deserves the finger Tasha shoots him after she starts scrolling through her phone and answers him with a terse ASL "yes."

"Cool. See you guys soon?" Steve gives a last look or assurance before starting at a clip to the back door. James wonders if his paranoia will end up as beneficiary or overkill.

Once Steve's out of sight, Tasha rolls her eyes and gives James a sideways smile. "What do you want? The ambulance and the gurney? The non-emergency police help desk? Or CrimeStoppers?"

[buckyjamess-archive]

girl with the lion | bucky barnes. I.

pairings ↬ detective!bucky barnes x female!reader

a/n ↬ reader a sexworker, didn't mention that before. Feedback, reblogs and comments are more than welcome!

wordcount ↬ 2.5k+

warnings ↬ injuries, hints of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of sex, protective bucky, stark being an asshole cursing.

summary ↬ detective barnes can keep a secret but when the most important person in his life is in danger, secrets get revealed 

masterlist

He's traced the lines with the tip of his fingers more times he can count on his fingers. Memorising every shade, he could draw it by memory if he could draw that well. 

the lion inked into your skin, loud and proud displayed across your arm– manes dancing around a sea of flowers floating around it's head. In the midst of the black lines and figures, two blue eyes popped out. Blue eyes full with life, full with passion and fire, despite being a tattoo lifeless on your skin.

Like you and maybe that's why they called you the lioness of the pack. 

It's the first thing detective Barnes noticed the first time he laid eyes upon you. The ink sneaking from underneath the sleeve of your black satin nightgown– the roughness didn't fit your pretty, innocent face. 

Just a routine job, something to kill time. A beating at the Brothel, nothing new, Sam and Bucky had solved things more than once between the four walls of exquisite. Well known with the lady of the house Judy– offered a drink and a round on the house with anyone of their likings; though both men, married, thanked the elderly lady and passed the opportunity.

until he met you.

Bucky found himself in the middle of the establishment, awkwardly asking for you, the girl with the lion. Candy, sweetie, angel and diamond; Bucky's heard them all from different men but knows you best as y/n, doll or sweetheart. And while his wife waits patiently at home everyday, Bucky finds himself falling fast and hard for the girl with the lion.

Patiently– his wife Lena lost patience two months after their wedding. Sit around the house all day long, demanding Bucky's attention while he worked nearly 24 hours a day. Possessive and jealous to say the least and sure she was nice, Bucky had fallen in love with her but slowly and surely that fire died. He'd fallen out of love.

Though bucky can't read your thoughts or can't read your poker face– maybe the feelings are mutual but even if they're not, bucky knows it's something special.

Slow almost inaudible jazz music plays from the little radio placed on one of the shelves above the soft pink loves seat. The sound of running water coming from the ensuite. The room dimly lit in soft yellow light and the smell of sex still in the air– bucky lies on the soft memory foam bed, hand behind his head as it rests on the feather soft pillows, other restingg on his chest, thin covers covering his still naked lower body and for a minute the world around him stands still as he thinks back on the activities that happened just minutes ago.

something between heaven and hell, just perfect.

Dressed in that same black satin nightgown– he swears he'll never get enough of it– you walk back into the bedroom. Freshened up, hair fixed; ready for the next.

"You need to leave soon." You mumble but it's loud enough for Bucky to hear "I have other people waiting."

The bed dips where your knees meet the bed and sit down. Bucky sits himself up, weight on his elbow. 

"They can wait." Bucky states, the corner of his lip turning up in a grin. 

"Don't think so detective," you look back at him with raised brows "they pay, you don't." 

"I'm trying to pay you but you keep refusing it."

"You want me to stroke your ego–" you snicker "I think I've told you the reason before." 

"Didn't hear it back then." 

You scoff and roll your eyes so far back, they might stay that way "You're the worst barnes." 

Bucky chuckles. Loves to get under your skin, on your nerves, he loves to push your boundaries because the look on your face, the change of your tone and the sarcasm dripping off of it might be one of his favorite things. Playfully. Something that would cause ruckus did he pull it on his own wife.

"How much time do I have left?" 

You take a quick look at the small clock above the bathroom door– bucky always booked you longer than anyone else. 

"about forty minutes." You state back "you lasted long this time." 

"taking my sweet time–" bucky chuckles again and sits himself up straight "I need your help with a case." 

Bucky knows it's wrong to talk about things like this, things that are only for him and the team, the team that'll kick him out and fire his ass when they find out but you're out of the box thinking, true crime addicted self was one of the reasons most cases get solved so quickly. 

slender build but maybe just as tall, late 40's bucky guesses. A pair of blue eyes turned red, a split lip and  a mop of black curls bouncing around his face. Shirtless with black, ripped denim jeans two sizes too big– bucky wonders why the two broad men standing next to him were needed to get the man down. 

Behind the bar Judy stands. Thick, red rimmed glasses resting on the tip of her nose, brown eyes peeking over the rim. Bright red lips to match and her hair in a fancy updo– typical Judy but the furious look on her face is a stark contrast with the warm smile. 

Women in nothing more but nightgowns in all shapes and colors, high heels and dolled up faces scattered around the place.

Bucky's been here before yet it feels different; he doesn't see your face in the crowd or that of Grace, the woman from across the hallway, the woman you deemed your best friend.

 "What's going on?" Sam's voice, loud and clear, bounces off the walls, getting everyone's attention. 

"This scumbag assaulted one of my girls–" Judy is quick to answer and pushes her glasses further up her nose "these men getting way too privileged." 

The man, still firmly held down by the two broad guys speaks up, slurring his words, yelling. Words not to be understood. Trying to get on his feet, one of the guys roughly push the men back on the chair and with a low and demanding voice mumbles a 'shut the fuck up' and silences the guy once again.

"Who?" Bucky quips

"y/n." 

Bucky's heart rate picks up. He's been here before, saw many men disappear on the backseat of a police car. Both Sam and Bucky are disgusted and mad over these men, clasping the handcuffs around their wrists a little too tight. Taking the women back to the station to make a report and offering a ride back– he's been here before but never for you.

With a quick glance at his partner next to him, Sam nods letting Bucky know he'd handle things here. 

Sam knows, figured it out pretty quick and though he doesn't approve of it, who is he to take it away?

Heavy boots thud against the red carpet, Bucky finds himself in the familiar corridor, passing doors to rooms he's been in once, maybe twice or not at all; he reaches the second to last door in just a few strides– your room.

Three knocks is all it takes before the door swings open. Candy pink hair fixed in a loose bun, heavy make up on pale skin and dressed in a beige tracksuit– grace appears in front of bucky and without another word let's bucky slip past her and into the room.

An unmade bed, a knocked over lamp, some broken glasses and a bloodied white towel next to the bathroom door shows the struggle you must've gone through and if Bucky's stomach couldn't drop more at the thought, the sight of you in the bathroom certainly did.

A painful looking scratch across your cheek, a nasty cut above an eyebrow, little trinkets of blood staining your cheek and even from where he's standing, Bucky can see the red marks forming around your throat– to your best efforts you're trying to stop the bleeding.

Stepping inside the bathroom, he meets your eyes through the mirror you're standing in front of. Bucky keeps quiet and takes you in, realizing he's never seen you like this; hurt, dressed in sweats and a tank top– not in the most expensive lingerie or naked, cheeky and cheerful. This is..you?

"You okay?" Bucky asks, worry dripping from his voice

"Does it look like I'm okay?" It's mumbled but loud and clear for Bucky to understand. You dab the towel on the cut above your eye once more and hiss through your teeth "I'm fine." 

"What happened?"

"Just one of those guys who wanted to try something new, told him I'm not the one he's looking for, told me he'd pay me extra, said no, he lost it." 

It's a lie– he doesn't know you in and out, not yet but bucky barnes knows when you're lying. The words spew out as if you've rehearsed it a hundred times before and bucky barnes knows you well enough to let it slip, you're not going to be honest anytime soon.

taking another step further into the room, bucky stands next to you, hand on the small of your back as he tries to take the towel out of your hands 

"Let me look at it." His voice is soft but the slap on his hand makes him raise it "Let me look at it." 

With a groan you lower your hand, his cold fingers against the bruised skin a welcome feeling and without realizing, your body relaxes for the first time that night.

"Maybe you should stop seeing those kinds of men." 

You scoff "And maybe you should keep your nose out of my business." 

"I can't, I care about you." 

The words slip past Bucky's lip without another thought, leaving both of you speechless. 

It wasn't a secret detective Barnes was besotted by you the moment he met you, addicted to say the least. You knew, hell even took pride from it. A man like that in your bed at least once a week, a man with respect for you and not just using you as a doll– handsome, kind and witty? If you didn't know any better, this man would be the type you'd go after but your work as a sex worker left little to no space for a real love life but you're not there yet. The girls had said it, Grace knew for sure and Judy joked about it, Detective Barnes has the hots for you. But he's married, like most men you see every night.

"Well don't," You clear your throat and meet his eyes in the mirror again "Go home to your wife." 

Bucky ignores the last sentence, he knows he should go back to his wife, spend more time with her instead of work, nights out with some rookies or you but he can't, he wants to fix things but he can't, he simply can't. 

With the towel he'd snatched out of your hand seconds ago, he dampens it under the faucet and cleans the dried blood, eyes never leaving your face. He grimaces at the red marks around your throat, the shapes of a hand becoming more visible.

"What happened?" Bucky tries again.

"Nothing," you hiss between gritted teeth  "I told you." 

"I don't believe you." 

"Then don't." 

Rolling his eyes, Bucky sighs. Cleaning the towel under the running water and twists it in the sink before bringing it to the cut. You don't jeans away, don't even make a sound but the scrunch of your nose and face twisting in pain lets him know you're in pain.

He's seen this before, someone protecting someone who hurt them but bucky doesn't understand it this time. The man was just another guy wanting sex with you, another stranger and yet you're defending him?

"You need to report this at the station." Bucky states "I'll take you there." 

"No, I'm good– Just..give me a ride home." 

O N E W E E K L A T E R

"Y/n y/l/n I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder o Daniel Johnson," a confused chuckle "you do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned something which you later rely on in court." 

Your chuckle dies as quick as it came, confusion taking over as the broad blonde detective speaks up "wait, you're serious?" 

"Absolutely ma'am," he's nice, or at least he's trying to be the nice guy– detective Rogers as he'd introduced himself minutes ago before his partner barged in without a warning and for a second you wonder how a sweet face like that could accuse people for things they never did; he seemed like an honest guy. 

"But, wait– I don't, when?"

 Stumbling over your own words, you try to comprehend all that you just heard– you didn't know a Daniel, did you? You didn't kill a man, you could never kill a man, you never could hurt anyone..right? With your mind racing miles per hour, figuring out where you've been the last couple of days. Counting heads in the hopes you'd find Daniel Johnson who you'd murdered, as it seems. 

"Ma'am, turn around please." 

You obey the blonde and turn around, seen enough movies and documentaries, you put your hands behind your back without much thinking. Detective Rogers thanks you for the cooperation and makes sure the cuffs aren't too tight. 

"No, yeah– no they're good." You state "but I don't understand, I don't know a Daniel." 

"You don't need to know somebody to end their life–" your train of thoughts gets put to a halt, detective stark jumping in your vision. Brows raised in something that can only be described as disgust and pity "what would one do for a hit, a couple of pills or five dollars?" 

Speechless and taken aback, you blink at the man. His lip curling into a sickening, shit eating grin– the man makes your stomach twist; definitely the bad cop of this mess of a story you just found yourself in. 

"Alright, c'mon."  

The hand detective Rogers places on your shoulder makes you tense up even more but you do as he orders and let him guide you through your own house and out of the streets– a welcome committee from other cops, neighbours and him.

He'd know better, right– yeah he definitely knows better, he knows you could never. He knows you. But it's a useless cry for help as you mention his name. His blue eyes everywhere but you, making your blood boil. 

"All you fuckers are the same." 

"Well that's a change of attitude," stark again "you won't get far in life with that– guessing you haven't come far in life anyway." 

"Guess you got very fucking lucky with that attitude of yours but that's a requirement for the job, right?" You snort "think you can trust them, end up stabbing you in the back." 

And with a last glance, one that could kill, you look back at Bucky and this time he gets to see the anger and confusion on your face. 

"You're all the fucking same." 

taglist: @lonerlovescompany