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minisugakoobies · 10 months ago

Text

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted.

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem.

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you.

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around.

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around.

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous?

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye.

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago.

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him.

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late.

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs.

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back.

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that.

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You: It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me?

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort.

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little.

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is.

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one.

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance.

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response.

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing.

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man.

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible.

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not?

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now.

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide.

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge.

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?”

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back.

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands.

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu.

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon.

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it?

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses.

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.”

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close.

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?”

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment.

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now.

“I want what you promised me.”

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.”

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him.

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can.

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.”

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips.

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face.

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel.

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.”

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want.

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation.

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now.

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?”

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat.

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes.

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.”

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you.

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck.

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly.

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo.

“‘Gyu, please.”

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around.

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?”

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.”

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you.

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up.

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements.

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!”

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.”

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids.

“It’ll be something like this.”

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.”

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over.

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!”

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you.

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again.

“Kiss me.”

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.”

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip.

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.”

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands.

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.”

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture?

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.”

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?”

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.”

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?”

“I might have some ideas.”

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

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motorsportbarbie13 · 5 months ago

Note

Hiiiii couldn’t help but see you do requests, could you do something where after a hard race reader placed on the podium but felt sick and Max catches her when she collapsed after getting out of the car? Maybe with the words "I can't... my legs... everything's tingling..." and him being super worried. Basically a little angsty with a fluffy end where he’s checking on her, can be established relationship or not.

OH ANON. this was so fun.

Enjoy!

Heatstroke In which, as it turns out, Max wasn't just 'Maxplaining' the difficulty of Singapore to you after all

Pairing: Max Verstappen X FerarriDriver!Reader Warnings: fainting, getting sick/weak, max being a knight in shining armor. Word count: 2.2k Masterlist

Max tried to warn you. Lando tried to warn you. Checo and Lewis had tried to warn you. Hell, the entire fucking grid had tried to warn you that Singapore was a different beast. You had thought they were just coddling you and being over dramatic, as the boys tended to be with you. It was a hazard of being the only woman on the grid, which frankly, drove you bat shit crazy because you had earned your way into the red Ferrari seat next to Charles on your own, thank you very much. You didn’t need to be coddled and you didn’t need to be warned off anything.

But they were right.

Singapore was a different beast.

The heat during the day was oppressive but at night? There wasn’t any relief once the intense sun went down either. You were from Michigan though, that midwestern state being famous for its hot and sticky summers so you had thought you’d been prepared.

As you claimed into your sleek red car, lining up P3 behind Max and Lando though you knew you were in trouble before the green flag waved. The thing about sweating in the humidity like this is that there’s no where for the moisture on your skin to go, the air already too heavy so that slick sweat sticks to you, making you even hotter than before.

“Fuck, this is going to be brutal.” You mumble, hoping that the braid you tied your hair in would stay for the entirety of the race. Suddenly, shaving your hair into a pixie cut like Fred had been suggesting (mostly jokingly) for weeks seemed like a good idea.

The formation lap is fine.

The first ten laps are fine, if not a little squirrely thanks to your car being wildly loose.

The first fifteen laps are fine, if not a bit hot.

But on lap 23? All hell breaks loose.

First, your hydration system fails and you’re completely unable to get any water through the tiny straw that you usually flip into your mouth on the straightaway, just like Danny taught you. You’re sweating up a storm with no way to replenish those valuable electrolytes.

Then, you’re so busy focusing on the fact that you’d give your first born child for a sip of water you nearly slam into the same exact wall that took George out on the last lap of last year’s race. You yank the steering wheel around so hard, you feel something in your wrist pop. The searing pain causes you to over correct and you nearly drive right into your own fucking teammate.

“Fuck. Tell Charlie I’m sorry.” You groan over the radio, telling your engineer to pass on the message to Charles.

“Focus on your race.” Your engineer tells you, voice obviously strained just as yours is. “Charles is fine.”

Well, I sure as fuck am not fine. You think as you fight the car down towards the starting line.

On lap 45, you’re granted a reprieve when a Sauber goes into the wall, bringing out a yellow flag. The leaders all duck into the pits, including yourself. There’s nothing anyone can do about your water situation and at this point, your instincts have kicked it.

Max was right and you knew it. Singapore was hell. He had tried to tell you last night, as you had been snuggled up in bed with him, a ritual that you both had become dependent on this season. It seemed cliche, you falling for one of your rivals. You hated it but there was no denying that there was a magnetic chemistry between the two of you that had started the moment you had met last year while you were still driving in F2.

You had resisted his charm for a while but things had taken a turn the night it was announced you’d be driving for Ferrari alongside Charles. Several of the drivers that lived in Monaco full time insisted on taking you to Jimmy Z’s to celebrate and who were you to say no to a bunch of handsome men paying for your drinks?

The night ended just as you might expect it: Max drunkenly confessing his year-long crush on you and you drunkenly kissing him in a dark alleyway as you waited for your Uber. What had started off as a drunken confession and your reckless response that wasn’t supposed to mean anything had turned into one of the greatest things that has ever happened to you. Max and you? The pair of you were endgame.

But none of that mattered now. Not here, in the raging heat and humidity of Singapore. You knew that Max was going to give you shit for not being better prepared the moment you got out of the car. You knew you were in for an ‘I told you so’ lecture on the plane ride back in the morning. You knew Max was right and you had been stupid to underestimate the power this track had over drivers.

Looking back on your first race in Singapore years later, you don’t quite know how you managed to finish those last laps. Pure determination and stubbornness, Max would insist later on that night. But before you’re able to fully wrap your head around how dangerous of a situation you’d gotten yourself into, the checkered flag is waving and you’ve crossed the finish line in P3, right behind Lando and Max.

Your third podium of the year. If you had been more coherent, you probably would have been elated. But all you could think about as you pulled your car into parc ferme, right behind that little cardboard 3 sign, was the ice bath you knew was waiting for you somewhere in the paddock.

Your red racing suit is soaked through and through, you can feel it before you even get out of the car. It takes a mammoth effort to pull the steering wheel out of it’s dock and for a moment, you worry you’re so weak you can’t even do that. In front of you, you see Lando pop out of the car in the P1 spot, elated to have won with a healthy margin of over 20 seconds for the second time that season.

Max is out of the car too, albeit a bit slower than Lando. There’s a distant buzzing in your ear that sounds eerily like your engineer’s voice asking if you’re okay. But you’re completely unable to focus on anything beyond the tingling sensation in your legs. This wasn’t something you’d ever felt inside a race car in all your years of driving. Everything stung, like a million little fire ants were making a meal out of your flesh. It took every ounce of strength, of which you didn’t have much, to hoist yourself up out of the car.

Your head swims the moment you stand up straight, and you feel your legs collapse under you. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear Max calling your name but you can’t look up, your helmet suddenly feeling like it weighs 300 pounds.

Crouching in your car, you desperately try to pull yourself together before anyone notices you’re struggling. You didn’t want to give the media the satisfaction of pulling another ‘look, another woman who thinks she can hang with the rest of the F1 drivers.’ Like they’ve been attempting to do all season.

Your eyes are closed but you still hear the faint call of Max’s voice somewhere off in the distance. The entire world is reduced down to a singular pin prick of light while you fight to stay conscious, the heat and humidity wrapping their ugly little fingers tightly around your throat.

Just as you’re about to surrender to the warm quiet of the darkness that seems to be calling out to you, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, hauling you out of the car like you weigh less than a bag of potatoes. You go limp in the arms of whoever has come to your rescue, collapsing under the strain of what you just put your body though.

“Baby, please. Look at me.”

Somehow, your helmet has been removed and you find yourself blinking up at Max.

When did he get here? You wonder idly, not realizing it was him that pulled you out of the car.

Max had gone practically feral when GP told him that you’d gone nearly 3/4 of the race without water. He knew how brutal this race was, and the humidity was unusually high tonight. He had gotten out of the car fairly quickly but had panicked when he saw your helmet tipped forward, resting on the halo device and you not moving.

You lift your head, still wondering where your helmet was and instantly found yourself staring straight into the baby blue eyes of your boyfriend. “Maxie?” You croak, throat feeling like you just dined on a three course meal of sand and gravel.

“Hey…” He coos, bringing you closer to his chest. “There’s my girl. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” He rubs soothing circles over your back, not caring that the press is having a field day with this.

“I can’t…” You stutter, struggling to make the words in your head sound coherent when your mouth tries to form them. “My legs…everything is tingling.”

If you had been a bit more coherent, you would’ve seen the look of absolute panic cross Max’s face. He frantically looks around as he lifts you into his arms, one arm under your knees, the other cradling your back against his chest. He knew you were going to absolutely murder him when you come around and see the pictures. You hated being coddled and hated showing affection on the grid even more. You and Max weren’t really hiding the fact that you were together, most fans knew and it was common knowledge around the paddock but the causal fan might be surprised to find out the lore between the two of you. So this outright show of concern, affection, and panic over the state of you that Max was showing right now? It was absolutely not a common occurrence

“Interviews are going to have to wait.” Max barks at Jensen, this weeks post-race presenter. “She needs medical attention.”

Jensen simply nods, allowing you to pass.

Fred and Charles intercept you half way to the tent, insisting that getting you in the ice baths will be the thing to help you the most. Max, nearly delirious with worry because while your eyes were open and you were somewhat alert, follows their instructions and takes you back behind the garage area where the ice baths had been set up.

It’s all you can do to stand upright as Max unzips your race suit. It’s so heavy with your sweat that it practically peels off of you with no effort, gravity doing the work for Max. And then your left in just your fireproofs. If you hadn’t been in the middle of the paddock with thousands of people and cameras around, Max would have stripped you down to just your underwear, but that wasn’t an option.

WIth Max and Charles’ help, you’re able to hoist yourself into the waiting ice bath. The shock of the frigid water jolts some awareness back into you the moment your body is submerged in the glacial water.

“Holy fuck.” You grit out, eyes closing in pain.

“I know…I know, schatje. But it’ll get you feeling better so much quicker than anything else.

You nod, still not fully aware of how you got here but thankful for Max’s steadying presence beside you. He’s crouched down so he’s eye level with you as you ball yourself up to get as much heated skin under the cold water and the worry etched all over his face is enough to steal your breath.

“Max. Holy fuck. That was…you weren’t just Maxsplaining to me last night, were you?”

A chuckle finds its way out of his lips, despite the state of panic Max is in. “No, I was not just ‘Maxsplaining’ anything last night, silly girl.”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve got your fire back, I see. I think you’ll live.” Max leans in to press a kiss to the crown of your head before dropping another kiss on your temple, then your cheek, and finally his lips find their home on yours. Right where they belong. It’s not a lingering kiss, or a passionate one. No. This kiss is filled with gratitude and relief and sheer dumb realization of how much this man loves you.

Your eyes are open more now, a few minutes in the ice bath doing your heat stroke symptoms good. It takes you a few moments to really grasp the severity of what just happened. How close you came to passing out mid-race. How it was Max that got you out of that car and was at your side before anyone else.

All around you, the paddock is bustling to life. The scene Max created by hauling you over to Ferrari’s garages has somewhat dissipated. Only a few onlookers are stopped still, but your team remains solidly around you, faces a mask of concern. But the only person you see is Max.

“Thank you, baby.” You murmur when he leans in for another kiss.

“Anything for you, schatje.” He rasps, emotion clawing at his throat. “Anything.”

#max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #MY FIRST REQUEST EVER omg #anon ask #one shot #angsty fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader

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lechrts · 2 months ago

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Hiiiii! i was so obsessed with your lando cooking one but i have another idea kinda where’s its a little similar but reader is his private chef or something ??? Plz i love you’re writing so much 🥰

Stay With Me. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Privatechef!reader

Summary: When he finally musters the courage to talk to his private chef and eventually invite her to stay for dinner.

Word Count: 2.3k

Disclaimer/s: flufffff :3 meet cute ,, ish??? and forced proximity almost (not at all) Just Squint idk

Vera’s Voice! LOVE THIS REQUEST AYYEEE , hope u enjoy!!!! thank u for reading my fics!!! mwaaahhh

Lando never thought he’d end up with a private chef.

The idea sounded unnecessarily extravagant when his management first proposed it. He wasn’t a picky eater, and takeout worked just fine. But after months of rigorous travel, racing every other weekend, and well… his need to somehow always mention the disgusting food pile in his pantry on live streams… his team insisted on the idea.

It wasn’t about luxury, they claimed—it was about nutrition, recovery, and convenience. Lando reluctantly agreed, figuring it would be just another stranger in his house.

And that’s exactly what you were.

The first time you arrived, Lando only caught a glimpse of you—a short, polite nod as you introduced yourself by name.

You didn’t linger. No small talk, no unnecessary pleasantries. You brought bags of fresh groceries, prepared everything with quiet efficiency, and left him with neatly plated meals stored in his fridge.

And this routine went on for weeks.

Lando grew used to hearing the door click open mid-afternoon, a soft shuffle of feet in his kitchen as you unpacked your things.

He kept his distance, a little unsure of how to approach you. You worked so intently that he didn’t want to interrupt, and honestly, he didn’t know what to say.

So, he settled for his usual routine: nodding, mumbling a quick thanks, and letting you go about your work.

But as the weeks passed, he found himself oddly intrigued.

He noticed how precise your movements were—the way you diced vegetables or measured out spices. He caught whiffs of garlic and herbs wafting through the house, making his mouth water.

Once, he saw you pause by the stove to taste a sauce, your face lighting up with the faintest hint of a smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to pique his curiosity.

He wanted to know more about you.

It wasn’t until a quiet Tuesday afternoon that Lando finally mustered the courage to do something about it.

You’d just arrived, placing your bags on the kitchen counter and rolling up your sleeves. Lando was sitting on the couch, his laptop open in front of him, pretending to be preoccupied.

But he wasn’t working.

He was watching you out of the corner of his eye, nervously tapping his fingers against the keyboard.

Finally, he took a deep breath, stood up, and walked over.

“Hey,” He said, voice a little shaky.

You turned, startled. “Oh. Hi.”

Your voice was soft but firm, and your eyes quickly darted back to the chopping board as if you didn’t want to intrude.

Lando scratched the back of his neck, suddenly unsure of himself. “I was, uh, wondering…” He hesitated. “Do you ever get to eat what you make?”

You blinked, genuinely surprised by the question. “Not usually,” You admitted. “I just cook for you.”

“Oh.” He shifted on his feet, feeling a bit awkward. “Well, that doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

You tilted your head slightly, your lips curving into the faintest smile. “I don’t mind.”

Lando cleared his throat. “Still, you’ve been cooking for me for weeks, and I don’t even know if you think it tastes good.”

You laughed at that, a quiet, melodic sound that made Lando’s chest feel a little lighter. “I taste as I go. You haven’t complained, so I assumed all was fine.”

“It’s more than fine,” He said quickly, then winced, realizing how eager he sounded. “I mean, it’s really good. Like… amazing.”

“Thank you.” Your cheeks flushed a faint pink, glancing back down at the cutting board to hide your sudden blush.

Lando watched you for a moment, then blurted, “Can I help?”

You froze, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You want to help?”

“Yeah,” He said, trying to sound casual. “I feel bad just sitting around while you do all the work.”

Your lips twitched, almost as if you were holding back a laugh. “Well that’s technically what I get paid for…so..”

“Well, I don’t mind lending a hand..” He stepped closer.

“Um.. Alright,” You said slowly. “But I don’t think I can trust you near a stove from what your management told me, so how about slicing and dicing?“

“Sounds good.” He flashed a smile, quickly coming to your aid.

And Lando wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help, but you quickly realized he was hopeless in the kitchen.

He now stood next to you, an apron tied loosely around his waist (as he insisted to feel official), struggling to peel a carrot. His grip was awkward, and the peels kept getting stuck in the blade.

“Like this,” You said, stepping closer and wrapping your hand around his to guide him.

Lando froze at the contact, his pulse quickening. Your hand was warm against his, and for a moment, all he could focus on was the soft scent of your vanilla shampoo and the gentle lilt of your voice as you explained the technique.

“There,” You said, releasing his hand. “Try now.”

He nodded, a little dazed, and attempted to mimic your movements. The carrot peeled more smoothly this time, though not without a few mishaps.

“You’re a pro.” You complimented, earning a wide smile from him as he continued.

Lando watched you, his confidence growing with each little laugh he managed to pull from you.

The atmosphere felt easy now, the awkwardness from before fading into something warmer. He grabbed another carrot and set to work, determined to keep up with you.

As the meal came together, the smells filling the kitchen made his stomach growl audibly.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” He admitted.

You flashed him a smile before you mindlessly tidied around the kitchen, thankfully washing dishes as you cooked. You made sure to plate his food, sliding a portion toward him as usual.

But before you could reach for your bag and finish cleaning up, Lando hesitated, leaning against the counter.

“Wait,” He said suddenly.

You paused, glancing at him. “Hm?”

“Stay with me.” Lando said almost too eagerly, quickly catching himself before stuttering. “Like stay for dinner.”

You felt your eyes widen at the offer, your heart skipping a beat. “Oh, I don’t usually—” Your voice started, but he cut you off, his words tumbling out in a rush.

“I insist.” He smiled before shifting on his feet, suddenly shy. “You’re always here, making these amazing meals, but you never eat them. It feels wrong. Like… you deserve to enjoy this too.”

You hesitated.

The idea of sitting down to dinner with him felt… different. But there was something in the way he looked at you—hopeful, genuine—that made it impossible to say no.

“Um.. Okay,” You said softly, nodding as you set your bag back down.

Lando’s face lit up, and he immediately set about pulling plates from the cabinet, his excitement almost contagious.

And it was… nice.

You sat across from each other at the small dining table, sharing the meal you’d just prepared—a hearty steak, (opposed to the salmon you were incredible at making but you were instructed to never prepare him seafood), roasted vegetables, and a side of creamy mash. It wasn’t anything overly fancy, but it was perfect, and Lando couldn’t stop himself from saying so.

“You’re too kind,” You said, your tone teasing.

“I’m serious!” He insisted. “I don’t know how you make the vegetables taste this good. It’s like magic or something.”

You laughed again, a little less reserved this time. “No magic. Just practice.”

You talked as you ate, the conversation flowing easier than Lando expected. He learned that you’d gone to culinary school, that you loved experimenting with new recipes, and that you preferred baking to cooking.

And to his surprise, you were extremely funny, with a dry sense of humor that caught him off guard.

“I’ll need to try your pastries one day then?” He said with a quirked brow as you shook your head.

“Unfortunately, not on the nutrition plan your management gave me.” You bit down a laugh.

“One cheat day won’t hurt…” He pushed for it.

You sheepishly shrugged. “I’ll consider.” Another laugh escaping your lips as he let out a stupid groan with a roll in his eyes.

And, for the first time, Lando felt like he really saw you—not just as the chef who came and went, but as someone he genuinely wanted to know.

When the meal was finally over, you started to stand, reaching for the dishes, but Lando stopped you.

“I’ll take care of it,” He said.

Your brow furrowed. “But—”

“You cooked. I’ll clean. That’s the deal now.”

You hesitated, then nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay… Thanks.”

Soon, you grabbed your bag to leave, Lando walking you to the door, feeling an odd pang of disappointment as you stepped outside.

“Same time tomorrow then?” You asked, glancing back at him.

Lando grinned. “Only if you’re eating with me again.”

Your smile widened, and for the first time, you didn’t look like you were in a hurry to leave.

“Deal,” You tried to hide your excitement.

“Goodnight.” He smiled.

“Goodnight.”

And as you walked off while he closed the door, Lando was already looking forward to tomorrow.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!! ^_^ and please lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tags list :D

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox @freyathehuntress @iovepoem @piastri-fvx

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moonstruckme · 14 days ago

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hiiiii mae. I was re-reading thawing out and I'm curious if you've ever considered writing about Sirius & reader getting Remus back out on the ice again? I feel like it has real cute and fluffy potential. love all that you do! <3

Thank you for requesting! I've been looking forward to this milestone for them for so long :')

Read the Thawing Out series here

cw: modern au, chronic pain references, some anxiety caused by traumatic events

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

It was your idea to do this outside of the rink. You notice things that Sirius doesn’t, and you’d noticed that as much as Remus feels at home with the boards and the bleachers and hum of the Zamboni, they intimidate him too. So, you’re taking advantage of a cold Saturday to utilize the outdoors.

Sirius frowns, spinning an idle circle on his blade. “This ice is shit.”

“You’re just spoiled,” you counter, still lacing up your skates with Remus. You’ve slowed your pace to match him, whereas Sirius had laced up quick as always and gone out into the small rink without a second thought. Another way you’re simply better than him.

To his credit, Remus doesn’t seem to be stalling. He tried talking you both out of this on a couple of occasions, saying that it wasn’t worth your time, you were giving it more importance than it was due, etc., but now that he’s here he simply seems to be taking a methodical pace. Preparing himself. Sirius can grant him this, considering he hasn’t had skates on his feet since his injury nearly three years ago.

“Would you call a swimmer picky for wanting a properly chlorinated pool?”

“Yes.”

Remus glances over at you, that particular smile he reserves for your obstinance gracing his lips. Sirius’ heart melts a little.

“Then fine. I’m picky. Just be careful, both of you. I’m telling you, this ice is truly—”

“I know how to skate on unsmoothed ice.” You cut him off with a look. There’s fondness buried beneath it, and Sirius narrows his eyes back playfully as you knot your laces and stand up. “So does Remus.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Remus jokes. He stands with you, though, letting you onto the ice first.

Sirius can see the hesitance in your boyfriend now. That bit of nervousness Remus is trying to ignore. The awareness of it balls up tight and uncomfortable in his chest.

“Awe,” Sirius croons with overdone patronage, skating to a stop a few feet away from the entrance, “are we not sure? We’ll do it like with the littles then, darling.” He bends and pats his knees, making a show of it. “Come on, come to me.”

Remus snorts and sets one foot on the ice. “Piss off.”

That one foot is all it takes. Remus pushes off with practiced ease, gliding into the rink. Sirius beams.

You look equally as awestruck, your eyes so brimming with love and joy they almost hurt to look at.

“Well, would you look at that,” Sirius says, “he does know how to skate on shit ice. Give us a spin, handsome.”

“I’m not your show pony,” Remus says, but spins nonetheless. It’s simple, and yet so incredibly graceful. So obviously second nature.

“Remus.” You seem to have given up any hope of trying to play it cool, your voice shining with barely repressed glee. “That was so perfect.”

Remus is doing a similarly poor job of repressing his own smile, though he only tsks. “If either of you did a spin like that, I’d make you redo it three times and then add a jump so you didn’t embarrass yourselves.”

Sirius crosses his arms, nodding. “Go on, then.”

It’s clear that Remus is happy to do it. He’s cautious for a while, testing his own limits as he adds complexities and small jumps and tries out different variations. Ordinarily Sirius might worry for his hip, but Remus has been especially diligent in his stretching in preparation for just this; and whenever he seemed inclined to skip it, you or Sirius were there to pester him (lovingly, of course).

Sirius’ heart swells to the point of bursting at how beautiful Remus looks. His posture shifts to accommodate the new range of movement, his arms coming out almost unconsciously, with a dancer’s grace. Sirius is well used to the symphony of skates on ice, but Remus’ have their own melody, their own beat and cadence. Even his face changes, the tension fading from his expression until it’s at once relaxed and utterly present. Remus was made for this.

You and Sirius don’t do anything but watch, rapt. After a while, Remus seems to get sick of his audience, coming to a reluctant stop. His cheeks are pink from the cold and exertion—Sirius wants to cover them with both hands and kiss him dizzy—but Remus’ expression shifts when he looks at you.

He lets out a breathy, nervous chuckle. “Sweetheart…?”

Sirius turns, and your lips are pressed together, your eyes bright. “Sorry,” you say, giving a wobbly smile, “you’re just—Remus, you’re so lovely.”

“Oh, you sop.” Sirius curls an arm around you, kissing your head. “Stop that.”

“I’m sorry.” You laugh at yourself. Swipe away a tear that manages to escape.

Sirius tuts. “Look what you’ve done,” he says to Remus, who appears caught between shock and fondness, his mouth hanging slightly open. “She’s completely right, you know. You’re too lovely; it’s torment for us both.”

“You…” Remus shakes his head. He’s delightfully flushed now, nearly to the tips of his ears. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my idea to do this, though.”

“No, but you sure do seem to be enjoying yourself now, don’t you? Come here.”

To his surprise, Remus actually comes. Sirius is elated; rarely does he get to be this demanding with such gratifying results.

He lets you go to take both of Remus' pink, hot cheeks in his hands, and plants a firm kiss on his lips.

“Thank you,” he says, grinning. “Now, stop our poor girl’s crying by skating with her, please.”

It’s not done before several kisses, but soon you and Remus are in the center of the rink, twining around each other like snowflakes in the wind. You and Sirius take turns teaching Remus the sorts of lifts and jumps he wouldn’t have learned in his solo career. Sirius can’t decide which he likes best; the up-close view of Remus’ face as the world whirls around them and Remus’ hand folds warmly around his, or getting to admire the two of you from the edge of the rink. He thinks more practice will be necessary to determine this. Much, much more practice.

Sirius’ nose is near frozen by the time you decide to call it a day. Remus teases Sirius for his pinkened cheeks as though he’s not exactly the same, and you insist on buying hot chocolates for all three of you on the way home as though they’re going to let you. You walk out of the park with breaths puffing cold in front of you, three skating bags hanging from your shoulders.

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headkiss · 2 years ago

Text

steady hand

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

summary: hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: probably very inaccurate descriptions of r’s job (it’s for the plot, okay??), shy!reader, a very small injury description, yearning (?), first kiss, fluff !!!

a/n: hiiiii this is my very first hotch fic (gasp) so i hope i did okay!!! i’m excited to be writing for him and i have enjoyed it so far and i hope you will too!!! please please let me know what you think and if you’d want to see more of him from me <33

༄

People are usually impressed when you tell them you work at the BAU.

Which, you won’t lie, is something to be proud of, but their first thought is always that you’re doing something big and solving cases. They ask you if you were there when this case was solved or when that killer was caught.

Then there’s the nodding and dissipation of their excitement when you explain that you work a desk job there. Organize files, write reports, that sort of thing. That is a lot less impressive to most.

You’re no Agent Morgan, or Dr. Reid. Certainly no Agent Hotchner or Prentiss. Instead of being on the field, you spend your time fighting with a printer.

Getting the papers you needed should have been simple, a quick in and out that would have you back hiding behind your desk in minutes. Of course, the universe or something must be against you, because instead, you’ve spent at least twenty minutes trying to figure out what’s wrong.

It isn’t jammed (you’ve checked about five times to be sure) and you’re not educated in printers enough to know how to fix whatever’s going on. You’re just lucky nobody else has needed it yet.

“Come on,” you mutter, trying to pull it away from the wall to get a better look.

You’re sure there’s stress sweat building on your forehead. The last thing you want to do is ask someone for help, to make yourself too visible in this place full of important, intimidating people. You’d rather struggle on your own for now.

You make sure that the thing is plugged in (it is) and then check if it’s jammed. Again.

“Piece of shit,” you’re mumbling at the thing, leaning over it looking for anything out of place.

That’s when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. The sound has you jumping, your knuckles smacking against the wall where your hand had been wedged between it and the printer. You turn around to find Agent Hotchner.

He’d been walking by the printer room when he heard the grumbled curse words. Peeking inside, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find you fussing over the printer. He bit back a chuckle before making his presence known.

You tug your skirt down where it’d ridden up, fiddling with the hem as you try to push down your embarrassment. Of course he’d be the one to see you, in his crisp suit and all. He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely. You swallow and try not to look at his biceps.

“Sorry, sir. The printer doesn’t seem to be, um, printing.”

“I’m assuming that’s why you were fighting with it.”

You fight a wince, “you heard that?”

“Heard what?” He asks, though by the twitch of his lips, you know that he’s well aware of what you’re talking about. He then gestures at the cause of your issues behind you, “it’s not jammed, is it?”

“I don’t think so. It wasn’t when I checked, at least.”

You’re trying not to act as nervous as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever really spoken to Agent Hotchner, save for small ‘hello’s and that one time you apologized for bumping into him. He’s handsome—you’ve always thought so—and, more importantly, he’s basically your boss.

“Let me take a look,” he says, walking over. You step aside, staying out of the way.

“It’s alright,” you start as he looks over it, “I’m sure you have much more important things to do than fix a printer, sir.”

Hotch’s eyes flick over to where you stand, a hand still fiddling with the hem of your skirt, your hair a little messy, your eyes a little wide and worried. You look pretty, he thinks. And sure, he does have things he should be doing instead of trying to fix this printer, but he doesn’t really care.

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.

He looks back to the printer, and he seems pretty convinced about trying to help, so you drop it.

While he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to look at his profile. The slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched a little in focus. It’s unfair, you think, for him to be smart and brave, and be so good-looking on top of it all.

Like he’d heard your thoughts, felt your gaze, he looks over at you again. You turn your eyes toward the floor quickly.

It’s a couple of minutes before anyone speaks. You, staring at the carpet until your vision goes a little fuzzy. Hotch, pushing buttons and flicking switches trying to figure out whatever was going on with the damn printer.

Then, the sound of the ink swiping over the pages, the papers spitting from the printer. You look over at it, mouth slightly parted. What can’t he do?

The sound of your name has your eyes snapping up to his. It’s yet another surprise, him knowing your name. You’re not that important, in the grand scheme of things at the BAU, in the world, really. Someone meant to stay hidden in the background. And still, he knows your name.

“It should be fine now,” he says, grabbing your papers from the cartridge and handing them to you as he stands up straight. “Let me know if it gives you trouble again.”

You grab the pages from him slowly, still shocked at the whole exchange. Your fingers brush against his as you do. “I- Thank you, sir.”

He nods, moving towards the hall. He pauses in the doorway, turning back towards you. “Hotch is fine.”

“Sorry?”

“You keep calling me ‘sir.’ You don’t have to. Just Hotch is fine.”

“Right. Sorry, sir- I mean, Hotch,” you test it out. “Thank you again.”

Yes, Hotch thinks, he likes you saying his name a whole lot more. He sends you a kind smile, “no problem.”

Hotch walks away, probably towards his office where he has very important things to do. Stuff that was surely delayed because he paused to help you. You stare at the doorway for a minute, until you give yourself a papercut and look down at it.

Aaron Hotchner knows who you are.

You’re two shitty coffees deep so far, your report open on your desk, the typing bar blinking on the screen of your computer.

There’s pages to go, though you’re not sure how many. You’ve been doing the sort of mindless, robot typing you do when you’re tired. When you’re preoccupied with trying not to glance in the direction of Hotch’s office.

The team got back sometime last night, long after you’d already gone home. From somewhere in Indiana, you think. You’re not sure how they do it, flying about and still coming into the office. You’re tired and you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been on a plane. Add the crime fighting and you’d be a goner.

Blinking yourself from your thoughts, you look back at the blank pages spread out in front of you. It’s not unusual for you to be missing pieces that you need to complete things, it’s just inconvenient. You always end up having to ask someone for the files you need, and then you feel like a burden.

It’s stupid, but in a place full of important people, it’s easy to feel like you’re just in the way.

Anyway, it’s your job, so you push away from your desk and stand, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Your first thought is to go to Reid. As far as friendship goes, you’d consider yourself closest to that definition with him. He’s also the least intimidating of the bunch, probably because you see the most of yourself in him.

You find him in the kitchen with Agent Jareau, both holding their own mugs, probably filled with the same coffee as the one that sits on your desk. You knock gently on the door even though it’s open.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if either of you have the files from that case you worked a couple weeks back. The one in Ohio,” you shuffle on your feet under their gaze. “I need them for this report.”

“Hey,” Reid speaks first, smiling kindly, “I don’t remember keeping them, but I can double check in my desk if you would like.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure I’ll find them somewhere.”

You’re about to head out the door when Agent Jareau stops you, “wait, I’m pretty sure Hotch has them. I can go ask him for you.”

It’s silly to feel nervous talking to them, especially when nobody’s ever been anything but nice to you. A little bit of the twist in your gut comes undone.

“No, no. I’ll go ask him if he isn’t busy, thank you though.”

“You should be fine, the door’s open,” she tells you.

You nod, sending the both of them a smile you hope doesn’t look awkward. “Thanks again.”

Their voices picking up their conversation follow you out the door. You cross the space, saying small ‘hello’s to Agent Morgan and Agent Prentiss when they greet you. You try to ignore the prickle of eyes on you as you climb the steps and head to Hotch’s office.

His jacket is draped across the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up on his forearms. It’s probably the most disheveled you’ve ever seen him, and he’s only missing a single layer. You look away from his arms when he says your name.

Hotch had his head bent, looking over a case when he’d heard footsteps, and he’d been glad to find you standing in his doorway. You work in the same place, yet he barely sees you. That’s probably why something lightens in his chest every time he does. The rarity, that’s all.

“Is this a bad time?” You ask.

“Not at all,” he leans back in his chair, “what can I do for you?”

“I’m really sorry to bother you, sir-”

“Hotch,” he reminds gently. His voice is easy, a hum that you think would sound good no matter what he was saying.

“Right, sorry. Hotch. I was just looking for some files that I need from a case you guys had for this report.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

Then, he smiles in that way that Aaron Hotchner so often does. A small twitch of his lips, a lift in the corners. One that you probably wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t paying so much attention. One that feels sort of like a gift.

You shake your head at yourself and elaborate, “the Ohio case. Three weeks ago, I think. I asked Agent Jareau, but she said you had them, so…”

Hotch wants to reassure you, but he’s not sure how to do it without standing up and letting himself grab your hand and squeeze it the way he’d like. And he can’t do that, not when you’re already nervous. Not when he’s not sure he could hold back after one touch.

“It’s no problem,” he opens one of his drawers, flips through folders until he finds what you’re looking for.

He stands up and walks around his desk until he’s in front of you, and he lets his gaze flick over your face while he has the chance. Your eyes find his easily, and you hope he can’t hear the catch in your breath.

Aaron isn’t usually so quiet with his affections, but that’s because he’s never found himself feeling this way at work. He wishes your desk was on his way to his office, just so he’d have an excuse to stop and talk to you. He makes sure never to use your favorite mug from the cupboard, just so you’ll be more likely to have it.

Hotch clears his throat, “here they are.”

He holds up the folder between you, his hand holding it loosely, the other hanging by his side. His fingers twitch.

You’re embarrassingly distracted by his exposed forearms, eyes trailing from his hand to the skin of his arm, to the way his shirt is tight where the sleeves are rolled. Then, it’s the color of his tie today, the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows.

His hand reaching for yours is enough to erase everything else. He lifts it and places the folder in your hold for you. Your skin burns even when he pulls away.

“You alright?” He asks. Probably because you’d been staring at him like a weirdo.

Get it together.

“Yeah. Yes, sorry. Just sort of spacey today, I guess.”

When you look back to his face, there’s nothing but a sort of softness in his eyes you can’t identify. He smiles at you, and for the second time, you feel like you’ve won something.

“Is that what you needed?” He asks.

You open the folder and peek inside. You find exactly what you’d been looking for, not that you’re surprised. Hotch knew what you’d meant and you didn’t doubt that.

“It is. Thank you, Hotch,” you grin lightly when you get that part right. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“You’re not in my way.”

Hotch says the words like he’d known you needed to hear them, like he’d known what runs through your mind so often, like he can read you. He probably can, you think. He is a profiler after all.

Still, the words make your heart do a stupid little jump.

“I’ll bring them back when I’m done,” you say.

“No rush. They’ll just be going back in the drawer anyway.”

“Well, thank you again.”

“It’s no problem, really.”

Hotch watches you walk back to your desk with your head down. Looking at the folder in your hand, he thinks, at least it’s an excuse for you to come see him again.

Hotch isn’t in his office when you return the files.

Since you can’t thank him in person—assuming he’s off with the team somewhere saving lives—you leave a sticky note on top of the folder. You drop it on his desk and leave before you second-guess yourself and rip the note off.

You can’t help but think that the office feels sort of empty without the team there. Without Hotch there. It’s how it is most days, so you’re not sure why the absence feels so present now. You shake it off.

The day passes by, then your drive home, and the rest of your night, too. Through it all, you can’t stop wondering what Hotch is doing, wherever he is. Hoping he’s safe.

You’re certainly not expecting to see him the next day, back so soon, but you can’t say you’re upset about it. It’s a brief glance, him walking into his office, the rest of the team and their chatter following, but it’s enough to make your work seem less tiring for some reason.

It was a quick case, and Aaron was glad to at least get a couple of hours of sleep in before coming into the office. When he sits at his desk, the first thing he notices is the folder you’ve left there. The small note in your handwriting.

‘Thank you :)’

He peels the note away and folds it up. Without thinking, it ends up tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. It’s a simple piece of paper, but it’s heavy where it sits. He rubs a hand over the pocket where the note is and gets to work.

It’s not until a couple of hours later that Hotch ends up leaving his office. Conveniently, in the direction of your desk.

You’ve been burying yourself in your work, your leg bouncing nonstop, your nose inches away from the pages on your desk, your chair pushed in as close as it’ll go. You have to, because if you take a break, if you look away, your eyes will search for Hotch, and you don’t really want to think about what that means right now.

About the ache in your chest when he’s gone, the urge to go ask him a stupid question just to talk to him. It’s awful.

The pen you’re using suddenly runs out of ink, and it makes you pause long enough to feel a cramp in your hand. You sit up and huff, pulling your drawer open and digging around for another pen. Your name in Hotch’s voice has you shutting the drawer and spinning quickly.

It’s just your luck that your shirt gets caught, that the sound of the rip is too loud to play off or ignore.

“Oh gosh,” you whisper, looking down at the damage.

It’s a cheap shirt, you shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s worse than you’d expected. This is what you get for sitting so damn close. The side seam is split, and if you move too much, your bra would probably be visible.

“This is so embarrassing,” you say, holding the rip shut with one hand and holding the other on your forehead. Of course this would happen to you in front of him.

Aaron’s eyes hover where your skin had been exposed, even now that you hold your shirt shut, wondering if it’d feel as soft as it looks. He can’t even remember what he came over to do or say.

He swallows and looks at your face, “do you have another?”

You shake your head, still hiding behind your hand, “no. I really, really wish I did, though.”

“I have an extra one in my go bag. If you’d like?” He hears himself say the words, and he doesn’t regret them, necessarily, but it’s clear to him that you mess with his brain. He doesn’t think straight where you’re involved.

You peek up at him, dropping your hand to your side. “Are you sure? I could probably just use some paper clips, or something.”

“Nonsense. I’ll go get it, okay? I’ll bring it to the bathroom so you can change.”

“You don’t have to-”

Your name leaves his mouth again, gentle but firm. “I’ll grab it.”

“Okay.”

You speed-walk over to the washroom and walk in, closing the door only to block out the rest of the office, who surely noticed what just happened. You’re probably never gonna live this down.

Your overthinking doesn’t get very far, because after only a minute, Hotch is knocking on the door.

“It’s just me,” he says. ‘Just,’ like that word could ever be used to describe him. “You can just open the door a crack and I’ll pass the shirt through.”

You do as he says, tugging the door open until you can see a white dress shirt (of course) in his hand. You reach out and he hands it to you easily.

“Thank you, Hotch. I’ll wash it and give it back, I promise. Sorry for this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You can’t see his face, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I mean it.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly, closing the door.

His shirt is wrinkled from being packed in his bag, and the sleeves are long when you put it on, but it smells like him and isn’t ripped so you really can’t complain. You roll the sleeves and tuck the bottom into your pants, looking in the mirror to make sure you look at least a little bit put together.

Holy shit, you think. I’m wearing Aaron Hotchner’s shirt. What world have you been living in recently? To be interacting with him more often, to be feeling this sick skip in your heartbeat whenever you do.

You toss your ripped shirt in the garbage, look up, and huff out a breath before leaving the bathroom. You’re surprised to see Hotch still standing there.

“Oh,” you nearly bump into his chest when you walk out the door, but the warmth of his hand on your shoulder steadies you. “I didn’t know you were still there, sorry.”

“You don’t need to say sorry so much, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You’re dreaming, surely. You pinch yourself on the inside of your arm, just in case. You don’t wake up.

“I- um,” you’re fumbling for words because he’s standing there, looking at you softly, calling you ‘sweetheart’ in that voice of his.

Aaron doesn’t know where that came from, but he’s said it and it’s happened. With the way he thinks about you, how often he does, he can’t really be surprised. Besides, seeing you get flustered because of him is absolutely worth it.

“I wanted to thank you for getting those files back to me so quickly.”

Your eyes flick over to his arm, and it’s then he realizes that his hand is still on your shoulder. He pulls it away and stuffs it in his pocket. He’s probably imagining it, but he swears his palm is tingling.

You wipe your hands over your thighs, “right. It was no problem, really. I was mostly done with my report, so… Thanks for giving them to me.”

“I’m glad to be able to help,” he says. Then he walks back to his office.

You’re standing in front of the bathroom for what’s surely an odd amount of time. Even back at your desk, you can’t shake the haze you feel, a pink tint to your vision, a flutter in your gut.

You spend the rest of your day with your nose buried in the collar of Hotch’s shirt, avoiding the gazes of your coworkers around you.

Aaron spends the rest of the day thinking about how you looked in his shirt. About how you’d look in it and nothing else. He drags a hand over his face when that pops into his head.

“You good, boss?” Morgan asks from the doorway.

“I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss the knowing smirk on Morgan’s face.

It’s very rare that Aaron leaves work at a reasonable time. So rare that he can’t remember the last time he wasn’t the last person there.

He’s used to the late nights, the empty spaces, deserted desks. Even so, it’s nice to finish up earlier than he’d expected. He looks forward to the extra sleep he’ll get, the longer time frame to decompress.

Leaving work early already felt like a small victory for the day, and he feels like he’s won something bigger when he sees you in your car, still in the parking lot.

You’d left maybe twenty minutes before Hotch, though you’d assumed he’d be leaving hours after you like he usually does. Everything was fine, normal as you bid your goodbyes to your desk neighbors, as you rode the elevator down.

The sun has started setting, and the air gets cooler as it sinks. You fish your car keys from your bag and unlock it, getting in quickly and tossing your bag onto the passenger seat.

You like your job, sometimes you love it, even, but you look forward to going home either way. You think about the warm shower you’ll take, the shitty dinner you’ll end up eating. Your lonely plans are ruined as you twist your car key in the ignition, it sputters and doesn’t start.

“No, no. Come on,” your head falls back, you huff and take the key out.

You try again, and still, no luck. And again, and once more until you’re fed up with it and drop the keys in your lap. Your head is dropped against the steering wheel, allowing yourself a moment of dramatics from your defeat.

A knock on your window startles you upright. Your heart races for reasons other than fear when you look at who it is.

Hotch stands outside, leaning towards your window with a scrunch in his brows. When he catches your eye, he steps back from your door and gives you room to open it and step out.

You shut your car door behind you and lean your back against it, “hi.”

“Hi. Sorry to scare you, but I wanted to check that you were alright?”

“It’s okay,” your arms are folded behind your back, your hands twisting. “Um, it’s nothing, just some car troubles.”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“I guess not. It won’t start for some reason. I don’t know.” If he wasn’t standing right there, you’d probably smack yourself for how unsure you sound. “You keep catching me at the worst times, Hotch.”

He disagrees. Aaron can’t think of a time where seeing you could ever be a bad thing.

“You’re fine,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, “trust me.”

Despite the bite of the wind outside, the way he speaks warms you. He’s so honest in the way he speaks, in the sense that he sounds sure, even if it isn’t necessarily vulnerable. You don’t know how he does it.

A small smile spreads on your face before you can stop it, “okay, good. And thank you for checking on me. I’ll just call a cab and figure this out tomorrow.”

There’s no way he can let you take a cab. It’s obvious that with what he does, the things he sees, he’d rather know for sure you’d be safe getting home. But then, there’s the sort of floating feeling he has when he’s around you, one he’d like to feel for a little longer if he could.

“Let me drive you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, really. I’ll be fine.”

He ducks his head a little, catches your eye and holds you with that soft gaze of his. “Please, it’s not a problem. For my peace of mind.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, really. You’d much rather sit in a car that probably smells like him than in the back of a cab that smells like sweat.

“For your peace of mind, then. That’d be great.”

You grab your bag from your car before following Aaron to his, where he opens the passenger door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before shutting it. He jogs around the front of his car and gets in.

“Where am I taking you?” He asks, starting his car. The radio hums softly through the speakers, and Hotch reaches over to turn on the heating when he catches you shivering a little.

You tell him your address, “you don’t have to drive me if it’s out of your way, Hotch. I mean it.”

“It isn’t out of my way,” he assures you, and he could easily be lying, but you accept it anyway.

It’s quiet for a little bit, besides the odd question from Aaron for which way to turn. You take the chance to look at him as he drives, his hands on the wheel, the street lights hitting his face. Your head lulls against the seat.

“You’re finished earlier than usual today,” you say. “Not that I know your schedule, or anything, I just-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, a smile spreading. It’s wider than what you’ve seen at work, unguarded enough to show his teeth. It’s really pretty. “It’s alright. It’s work I can be doing at home.”

“That’s good. A change of scenery, at least.”

“Exactly.”

You’re not sure what it is that feels different now, in the car. Maybe it’s because it’s only you and him, no prying eyes in the office, no concerns about what this is, what’s allowed. It might only be you, that feels this sort of spark with him, fizzing i’m the air between you. Either way, you’ll soak it up for the duration of the ride to yours.

Maybe that’s why you’re saying, “you know, I always thought you didn’t even know who I was. Until the printer thing.”

Aaron peeks over at you, leaned in his passenger seat. You look like you belong there, like there’s always been a spot for you in his life. Even when you’d started at the BAU, when he first saw you, he felt like it was right that you were there.

Hell, he’d asked Garcia who you were and has had your name in the back of his head since.

“I’ve always liked you,” he admits. He doesn’t say he’s always known you. Liked.

“Really?” You can’t help but ask. Someone like him even noticing you seemed unfathomable. But liking you? He’s gotta be lying.

“Really. Even when you were bumping into me.”

“You remember that?”

“Yeah, I do. You were looking down at the ground, walking like you were being timed. And you had on this light pink sweater.”

Your eyes go wide, focused on his face. You had been wearing a light pink sweater that day. And he remembers all of that? You think, if you looked at yourself in the mirror right now, your eyes would be in the shape of hearts, pulsing in your pupils.

“I can’t believe you noticed all of that.”

“I notice a lot of things,” he says.

Aaron has always had his guard up around new people, has always made himself more serious at work than anywhere else. Then you came along and he had to fight to keep things that way. It makes sense that the minute he sees you outside of work his walls would crumble to dust.

It was inevitable, really.

“I’ve always liked you, too.” Then, before he can say anything, you point at your building, “it’s this one here.”

The car rolls to a stop slowly, his turn signal flashing as he pulls over by the entrance of your apartment building. He puts the car in park and turns to you fully.

“Thank you for driving me.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out before he can really think about it, fingertips featherlight over your cheekbone, sliding over to tuck your hair behind your ear. Then, like it was never there, he pulls back. There’s a glow in his fingers where they’d brushed your skin, golden.

It matches the one you feel on your cheek, sparkling.

“Get in safe, okay?”

“It’s a few feet from here to the front door, Hotch. I’ll be alright.”

He huffs softly, twin smiles on your faces. Lovesick and shy, nervous and pink-hazed all at once.

“For my peace of mind,” he says.

“Fine, then. Your peace of mind,” you reach for the door handle, tugging it and pushing the door open. You look at Hotch again, like you can’t get yourself to stop. “Thanks again.”

“See you, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

You step out and head to your door, turning around before walking inside to give him a wave. Aaron grins and waves back, watching you walk inside.

He stays parked by the curb until he sees a light flick on a couple of floors up.

There’s a reason that Hotch is Unit Chief. He thinks quickly, keeps his head straight even with what he deals with every day. There’s also a reason his leadership has been questioned before, but never revoked.

He can be reckless, throwing himself into situations when he knows he probably should’ve waited for backup. This time, it only got him a split eyebrow and a few stitches. It’s been worse; this is nothing.

It is, however, proving to be an inconvenience. He’d gotten stitched up in the ER of whatever hospital was closest to where the team had caught their unsub. It had to be quick, from the hospital straight to the jet.

They’d told him to clean it up again and put a new bandage on it when he got back, which is what he’s trying to do now, in his office, with his laptop’s grainy camera as a mirror. He has the supplies the hospital gave him on his desk, but he can’t really see what he’s doing, and the task is taking much longer than he’d like.

His hands are a little shaky from the adrenaline of his day, and every time his arm comes up to reach his stitches, it blocks his view.

Then, he sees you walking up to his office.

Usually, you’d already be home by now, but you’d been yourself and messed up some of your paperwork, so you had to stay late to re-do it. When you catch sight of Hotch in his office, you’re not so annoyed with yourself.

You notice the things on his desk, the blood on the front of his shirt. Your feet carry you to his doorway easily. Last time you’d really spoken to him was that night in his car, and ever since, there’s been something boiling, a noticeable shift.

You tap your knuckles on his open door twice, “you okay?”

He gives up on dealing with his cut and looks at you instead, the slightly rumpled state of your clothes from a long day, the smile you wear that doesn’t exactly hide the concern in your eyes, the light from the hallway a halo around you. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m alright. Just can't seem to do this right,” he says, gesturing to his eyebrow.

“Do you need help?”

Aaron has never been one to accept help easily, always one to do things on his own. But, when you’re offering so sweetly, when your help means your hands on his skin, how could he ever say no?

“That would be great.”

He pushes his chair back to give you room to stand in front of him. Your legs between his, leaning against the edge of his desk. His knees bump into the sides of your legs, little bursts of the kind of warmth sunlight emits on skin.

You reach for the wipes first, holding them in one hand and reaching up to his eyebrow, the other grasping his chin gently to keep his head steady.

His hand reaches up to hold your elbow. It could so easily be innocent, be almost nothing, but it feels like more. His thumb running back and forth, your face close enough to his to have your breaths mingling. It really feels like more.

“You’re here late,” he says, low and quiet.

“Spilled coffee all over my work. Had to start over. Can you believe it?” You speak just as quietly, eyes flicking from his cut down to his, just for a second.

“I can, actually. You’re sort of clumsy.”

“Hey!” He’s right, of course, but the warm chuckle he lets out is worth your dramatic gasp.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he assures you, squeezing your elbow. “I think it’s cute.”

“Well, thank you, then.”

You set the wipe aside and reach for the bandage next, placing it over his eyebrow and smoothing down the edges with a light touch. When you’re done, you pull back but don’t go far. Your hands fall from his face to grasp the edge of his desk instead.

“All done,” you say.

Aaron’s hands have shifted to your waist. His touch is so delicate, but you’d never ignore it. It might as well be bruising, the way his hands affect you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Hotch.”

Now would be the time to walk out the door, to say ‘goodnight’ and head home, but you’re in no hurry. Not when his eyes are shining in the dimmed light of his office, soft and practically melting.

They seem to beckon you closer, and though you don’t have a reason this time, your face ends up near his, noses almost touching. It’s as far as you go, afraid you’re misreading things, afraid you’ll be wrong about this.

Hotch closes the space for you.

His chin tilts up, his mouth catching yours softly at first. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips slightly chapped and completely perfect against yours.

You think your knees might buckle, so you put your hands on his shoulders, thumbs digging into his skin, like you’re trying to make sure he’s real. You’re not sure how you manage to kiss him back but you do, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes when you push back.

The kiss doesn’t deepen, but it doesn’t have to. You can feel plenty in it already.

It’s not long before Hotch pulls away, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head to look up at you. He removes one of your hands from his shoulder and holds it in his.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” he says, his thumb running over your knuckles.

You look down at your feet, at his legs next to yours. The hand still on his shoulder falls to your side, suddenly feeling nervous.

“You’re right, I’m so-”

“But,” he stops your apology before you can say it. As if you’d ever need to apologize for kissing him. “I’d like to take you to dinner sometime. If you’d want that.”

You look back at his face, eyes searching. He smiles so softly at you, it’s the kind of smile you could only ever give someone you like in this way. Someone you like enough to kiss.

“I’d really like that, Hotch.”

“Good,” he stands, but his hands don’t leave you. “And sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Call me Aaron.”

When you test it out, he’s sure of it; his name on your lips is his absolute favorite sound.

༄

thank you so much for reading!!! please please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, it helps a whole bunch more than you’d think and would mean a lot!! <3

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dulcescorderitas · 2 months ago

Text

𝓼𝓾𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓵 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

both

three on flim

solo mission

three's a company

bunny!reader -> drunk

dean winchester

marriage blurbs/imagines for dean: 02 03 04 05

randoms blurbs 1 2 3 4 5

tramp stamp

first class

naked pillow fight with dean

kids?

dean's little obsession

hands of glory

home video

taking dean to church'

juno

vampire dean has a monthly obsession

road head

impala sex

solo mission

lips

three's a company

ghostfacers

dean prays

mark of cain dean

LARPing

me or baby

dog spell on dean

asking dean to try on your pink panties/rhonda hurley appreciation

post purgatory dean

late night whispers

new room

nasty

leather jacket

happy birthday dean!

getting tired while riding dean

sam winchester

random blurbs 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

superbowl

car fun

sam starts the apocalypse

aftermath of demonblood!sam

kissin and cryin

juno

soulless

fluffy moment

sam researching how to pleasure you

quickie wedding pt.2

requests

link to post: Hi, I've been addicted to reading your Supernatural writings! Until Season 4 I was always a Sam girl but reading your content, and experiencing Dean in later seasons has been something else for sure. I had a dream with him after reading the "sex in the impala" fic! Could I request a Dean x reader, where they are between hunts/on the road the boys and reader make a pitstop at a bar in a small town? Reader and Dean have had several "almost" moments but Dean has been too stubborn to admit anything, and reader is waiting on him to make the move. At this bar a man approaches reader and Dean gets hot under the collar about it when he realises the guy is interested in her. I haven't read anything of Dean being protective but I think we all know he would be! Thank you 💜

link to post: Hi it's me again lovely~ 💜 I hope you are keeping well! It's 34 Celsius here and upon (re)discovering Supernatural was mostly filmed across Vancouver in Canada, we never really get to see the boys have any summer moments! So in my thirst and need for distraction, could I please request that after finishing up a case the boys and reader are just trying to cool down after an unexpected heatwave? Dean managed to put some sodas on ice in the cooler box since alcohol of any kind would just result in a headache. Reader on the other hand, has surprised them with ice lollies, and while it's a thoughtful idea with the motel's aircon being packed up, Dean is still getting pretty damn hot watching reader suck an ice lolly (innocently, of course... 😈) so he decides to go on an evening walk. Thank you again for your previous piece, I look forward to reading this one too! ✨

link to post: Heyy, I'd like to send in a request. Bf!Sam winchester x reader where they agree to try smth new in bed, but reader safewords and Sam, as the gentleman he is, just immediately pulls out + cleans both of them up no questions asked, and then comforts reader when she feels a little bad abt stopping him?

link to post: Hey, what if Dean gets hurt on a hunt and we help him? with sexual results

link to post: May I request a Crowley x f!reader (est relationship) where she gets hurt on a hunt with the winchesters and he finds out when he pops into the bunker to see her being passed out while Sam carries her to bed, and maybe he waits for her to wake up at her bed and takes care of her? Makes sure she's okay and all that jazz with a splash of protectiveness added in <3

link to post: Hiya darling!! First off, i LOVE your blog <3 Second, id like to request a Sam x reader where maybe it's their first time together since they had a baby, and it's all gentle and loving and rediscovering eachother, mainly Sam rediscovering his baby mama after all the loving, hard work she put in for their baby to be healthy

link to post: hiiiii! i hope you’re doing great 🩷 i was wondering if u could write about dean and/or winchester (it could be romantic or platonically), and reader, despite being a highly skilled hunter as them, she/he/them have a extensive skincare routine 🧖🏿‍♀️ and tons of products and also has candles 🕯️ to aromatize whatever hotel room they’re staying in? maybe i’m a little biased bc it’s something i would def do lol 💅🏿 of course it’s up to u to write it or not xx

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester

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astars-things · 9 days ago

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hiiiii, could you please write anything fluffy with Hughes!brothers pls when you have time 💕. Hope ur doing well xx ❤️❤️

I'm doing okay thank you for asking x

word count- 1003

Being the eldest of four siblings meant you had always been the one looking out for Quinn, Jack, and Luke. You were a year older than Quinn, three years older than Jack, and five years older than Luke. But for the past year, you had been traveling the world, chasing adventure and discovering new places.

As incredible as it had been, nothing compared to home, and you missed your family more than words could express. Jack and Luke had made it painfully obvious how much they missed you, constantly sending you messages and complaining about how quiet things were without you. Quinn, being Quinn, wasn’t as vocal, but you knew he felt the same. And your parents? They were counting down the days until you returned—except they had no idea today was the day.

You had planned this surprise down to the last detail. Turning off Life360 and telling your family you’d be in a no-service area had worked like a charm—no suspicions at all. You knew they were all at the lake house for the summer since hockey was on pause, which made it the perfect opportunity. Your flight had been at an ungodly hour, and by the time you landed in Michigan, the sun was already starting to dip—5 PM, just in time for their weekly game night.

Your childhood best friend, who was just as excited as you, had eagerly agreed to pick you up from the airport. The moment you stepped into the arrivals area, she sprinted toward you, practically tackling you in a hug.

“Y/N!” she shrieked, squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe. "god i misses you so much"

“I missed you too ,” you said breathlessly, laughing as you hugged her back.

The car ride to the lake house was filled with nonstop chatter, catching up on everything you had missed.

“Oh my God, I met the hottest man while I was in Australia,” you gushed, still thinking about how dreamy he had been. “He was just… ahh.”

She smirked, shaking her head. “I need details later. But first, let’s make your family cry.”

As soon as you arrived, you left your luggage in the car, making a mental note to grab it later. Your best friend had already put the next phase of the plan into motion—texting your mom, telling her she missed you and wanted to come over. In reality, she was setting up the perfect moment to record everyone’s reaction.

She walked inside, greeted everyone with a hug, and casually took a seat on the couch, pulling out her phone she sent you a quick text Now and quickly switching to the camera app to record.

Taking a deep breath, you walked toward the door, heart pounding in anticipation.

You pushed it open gently, stepping inside. “so who is winning? Also where was my invite?”

For a moment, there was silence—stunned, disbelieving silence.

Then all hell broke loose.

Your mom gasped so loudly you thought she might pass out, and before you could blink, she was rushing toward you, arms wide open, tears streaming down her face. “Oh my baby—my baby’s home!” she sobbed, hugging you so tightly it felt like she’d never let go.

Jack let out an actual scream—high-pitched, borderline embarrassing—and launched himself at you, nearly knocking you over. “NO WAY! NO WAY! Y/N! YOU’RE HERE! YOU’RE REALLY HERE!” His voice cracked mid-sentence as he clung to you like a koala.

Luke was right behind him, eyes already red and watery. “I missed you so much,” he choked out, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder.

You felt another set of arms around you—Quinn. He didn’t say much, just a whispered, “I really missed you,” but the way his voice wavered told you everything you needed to know.

Your dad was wiping his eyes, trying (and failing) to keep it together. “This is the best surprise ever,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug.

Jack sniffled dramatically, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I don’t care if it makes me look weak—I’M CRYING,” he announced.

Luke nodded furiously, wiping his own tears. “Same.”

Quinn, still hugging you, just sighed. “Yeah… me too.”

Your best friend cackled from the couch, still recording. “I’m so glad I got all of this on video.”

Jack groaned. “This is so embarrassing.”

Jack wiped his face aggressively with his sleeve. “Whatever. I’m just happy you’re home.”

Luke sniffled, still clinging to you like a lost puppy. “You’re not allowed to leave again.”

Quinn, who had finally let go, gave you a soft smile. “Agreed.”

Your mom cupped your face, eyes still shining with happy tears. “You have no idea how much we’ve missed you.”

You leaned into her touch, sighing contentedly. “I missed you all more than words can say.”

Before you could say anything else, Jack suddenly gasped. “WAIT. YOU HAVE TO SIT NEXT TO ME FOR GAME NIGHT.”

Luke pouted. “Uh, no? She’s sitting next to me.”

“Guys,” Quinn interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “She just got here. Let her breathe.”

Your dad chuckled. “Or at least let her eat first.”

But before you could even think about food, Jack grabbed your hand, dragging you toward the couch. “Nope, nope, game night first. You’ve missed too many already!”

Luke plopped down on your other side, still holding onto your arm like a security blanket. “You’re not moving from this spot, Y/N.”

Quinn shook his head but didn’t argue as he sat across from you, smiling softly. “It really is good to have you home.”

Your mom brought over snacks, still occasionally wiping her eyes. Your dad gave your shoulder a squeeze before settling in next to your mom. Your best friend, having successfully recorded every teary-eyed reaction, put her phone down with a satisfied grin and leaned against you.

And as you sat there, sandwiched between your brothers, hearing their laughter, feeling their warmth, you realized this—this was home.

Jack suddenly squeezed your hand. “Promise you won’t leave for that long again?”

You squeezed back, looking around at your family, at the pure love radiating from each of them.

“I promise.”

And for the first time in a long time, your heart felt completely full.

#send in requests #thanks anon!#jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #nhl x reader #hughes reader #hughes brothers #hughes sister!reader #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader

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grandline-fics · 9 months ago

Note

Hiiiii this is my first time requesting something so sorry if this doesn’t make any sense, but is it okay if you do some silly Headcanons of Ace, Shanks, or Crocodile with a serious s/o that is just the complete opposite when seeing something cute like a puppy??

DESCRIPTION: You’re completely serious until you see something cute

WARNINGS: nothing comes to mind

CHARACTERS: Ace, Shanks, Crocodile

WORDS: 1,933

A/N: Thank you for this request, sorry you had to wait so long for this and I hope you like how it turned out.

I've been making the most of this burst of energy and feeling well by getting as much writing done as I can. Here's hoping it lasts. As always thank you all for reading. Enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

You were a naturally serious person and you couldn’t help it. Sure you enjoyed spending time with the people you loved and cared about but when it came to expressing that emotion, especially a smile that went beyond the brief upturn of the corner of your mouth it was a rare occurrence. You made no turn to apologise for your personality, those that knew you had no doubt about how loving and loyal you were and they wouldn’t change you for anything. Ace especially adored you just the way you were. Besides he was the one that smiled constantly so he would always say you both balanced each other out perfectly.

There was also another reason why he liked how your smile and expressions of light-heartedness were so rare. He loved that they were mostly reserved for him and if anyone else got to see them then they’d try and take you from him. Obviously Ace knew that was impossible but he still liked to think of something that was intimately yours and his. However one day Ace and the rest of the crew stumbled across a sure fire way to get passed your natural stoicism completely by accident and it was all Ace’s doing.

“Hey check it out! My little brother’s crew got posters!” Ace called out the the crew one day with a proud grin as he read over the story that accompanied the Strawhat crew’s introductory bounties. Playfully you rolled your eyes despite your expression remaining as calm as always as you approached your boyfriend. You’d heard him talk countless times about his little brother and had heard about the small crew he’d assembled from the time Ace briefly reunited with them in Alabasta but apart from the Captain and his second in command, Zoro you hadn’t seen their appearances until now.

“They attacked Enies Lobby?” You asked, letting out a low whistle of respect at the new crew’s reckless actions. The rest of the crew listening finally took notice too, all of them could repeat Ace’s adoring speeches about Luffy word for word by now so hadn’t really taken noticed of the second division commander’s announcement until now. “At least they know how to get the world’s attention.” You mused, taking the pile of posters into your hand to inspect the totals. Your eyes flicked over the likes of Luffy, Zoro, and Robin with familiarity. They already had bounties so it was nothing new. For Sanji, Nami, Franky, and Usopp you took in their features to recognise them in future. In Ace’s mind his little brother’s crew were like family too.

Finally you pulled out the last poster and a strange noise broke from your lips, startling everyone in the crew as they looked at you. The noise had been shocking enough but to see your eyes all but sparkling and giddy smile light your face threw them off even more. “He’s so cute!” You grinned at the picture of Chopper in your hands, overcome by the adorable reindeer. “Ace! Why did you hide this from me!”

“I did!” Ace protested, recovering faster than the others since he’d been privileged to see this side of you before. “I told you there was a reindeer thing on Luffy’s crew!” Wincing when you lightly flicked his forehead.

“He’s not a thing! He’s adorable!” You admonished before smiling broadly at the bounty photo again. ”He looks so soft, I just want to hug him.” Ace watched you with a deepening pout, jealous suddenly of a photo and hoped you and the reindeer never crossed paths.

SHANKS

Sometimes your seriousness felt like a curse when you were on Shanks’ crew. While everyone else followed their Captain’s whims of adventure and revelry without any thought of consequences or limitations, you felt alone at times in being the one to offer a voice of reason when the occasion called for it. While you knew your crew was an immensely strong one, practically undefeated you also knew how quickly the tide could turn against anyone who wasn’t careful. In the unpredictability and cruelty of the life you’d all chosen for yourselves, it was better to be safe than sorry. When you and Shanks became a partnership in a physical and romantic sense, that weight of having to be the serious and level-headed one only seemed to increase.

Thankfully Shanks was the perfect partner to have, even before you were a couple he would boast to anyone that would listen that he knew you’re every emotion despite the neutral and serious expression you had. As imperceivable as you appeared to many, Shanks could read you like a book. It was also a little infuriating that he knew your weaknesses and what would make you show your feelings a little more to others. You don’t even know how it happened but Shanks liked to make a game out of it, whoever could make you a full smile got anything they wanted. Obviously Shanks wasn’t allowed to take part and the game was only when you permitted it such as when you were all in a safe territory. In all the crew’s attempts no-one had ever won.

On one evening you sat beside Shanks as you waited patiently for the others to start making their first of many turns to get a reaction out of you. As always, everyone that was taking part was filled with swagger and ‘had the winning technique’ but after a couple hours with your expression as unmoving as always, the bolster had ebbed into mass dejection and turning to their drinks for consolation. The only people truly enjoying their night were those that knew better than to try and Shanks who laughed happily and pulled you close. “Imagine if they found out how easy it was.” He grinned in your ear. Quickly you glanced at him, amusement in your eyes while you expression was masterfully neutral.

Just as you were about to relax you heard a rustling behind you and you looked towards the noise while the others paid no notice. Which was why they hadn’t known what took your attention until you’d gotten out of your seat to investigate and you let out a surprised squeal when you found what it was. Having never heard the sound from you before the crew was frozen in place and their eyes bugged out when you reappeared, the largest adoring smile on your face aimed at the bundle of fur in your arms.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Ben muttered as he watched you settle back into your seat beside Shanks, your attention raptly on what he now saw what the answer to Shanks’ game was. “A kitten? They smile for a kitten.”

“Well anything cute, but yeah.” Shanks grinned, looking over your shoulder to lightly scratch under the kitten’s chin as it purred.

“He’s just like you Shanks, look.” You cooed, the smile never leaving your face as you adjusted the kitten against your chest to show it only had three legs. “He’s coming with us, by the way.” You added before getting lost in pouring affection onto the tiny creature. Shanks let out a small amused huff. All the other times you’d pleaded to bring all the cute animals you came across onto the ship, he had to restrain himself from giving in to your every wish and tell you no, this time however there was no room for arguing and he wasn’t going to if it meant he got to enjoy your smile more.

CROCODILE

“Crocodile, you might want to go to do some damage control before they murder someone.” Crocodile looked up from his stack of paperwork to see Mihawk had already left his doorway. There was only one person that the swordsman would warn him about, you. With a heavy breath he rose and walked down the hallway and opened the door to see you sitting at your desk, papers fisted tightly in one hand while the other was clamped against your head as you tried to rub the knot causing a tension headache away. Slowly you lifted your head at stared at your lover with cold fury.

“If that clown blows the budget I’ve assigned him one more time I’ll kill him and I don’t care how valuable he is to the face of this business.” You seethed, watching him approach and set himself against the edge of the large desk. You eyed him evenly watching as a growing smirk appeared on his handsome face. Obviously you didn’t share his humour in this situation but then again you were the outwardly colder of the couple. Compared to your constantly serious expression, Crocodile came across as a sweetheart. When his large hand fell over yours and lightly coaxed your fist to relaxed you only then realised how tightly you’d been holding the now wrecked papers. With a sigh you discarded them with a swipe before returning your hand to Crocodile’s hold. “Out of curiosity, is there anyway we can just get rid of him and hire a normal clown to take his place?”

“As much as I’d love to fulfil your wish, my love sadly he’s needed and the Marines would notice a fake.” Crocodile chuckled.

“You give them too much credit.” You muttered evenly, you had more faith in Buggy’s ability to stick to a spending budget than you did in the Marines as a whole. You glared at your ruined paperwork that had caused your anger and the untouched bundle of work that you couldn’t bring yourself to touch. Sitting back in your seat, you dropped your free hand to pinch the bridge of your nose while your eyes closed slowly.

“Headache still there?” He asked, watching you nod. Crocodile made a note to punish Buggy in his own way later on but at this moment you were the priority and he grinned triumphantly when the surprise he was withholding until later on was now just what you needed. Crocodile stood and pulled your hand, a silent request for you to stand. “Come on, I know what will help.”

“Unless it’s putting a sea prism stone boot up the clown’s ass I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh come now, entertain me.” Crocodile urged smoothly, leading you out of the office and down the corridors. “I’ve never steered you wrong have I?”

“Apart from seducing me, corrupting my innocent soul, and leading me into a life of crime? No.” You said sarcastically earning a laugh from your lover. The only thing he was guilty of in that list was seducing you. You were already a criminal and far from innocent when he met you.

When you both approached the basement you gave Crocodile a suspicious look before realisation hit you. Without him needing to say anything you hurried into the area only you and he entered, the Bananawari enclosure. You approached the warmest section and gasped in excitement to see heavy cracks had appeared in the cluster of eggs in the centre. Crocodile smirked as he stood beside you, it seemed your timing couldn’t have been more perfect. In moments the eggs broke open and the newest additions of his pets appeared eliciting an excited laugh from you. With a bright smile that only Crocodile got to see you started to talk affectionately to the newborns as someone else would a puppy or baby. To him there was no better sight in the world.

“Oh you’re all so precious, yes you are.” You grinned. “Would you all like to meet your dear, possibly delicious Uncle Buggy?”

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa

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strwbrryeyes · 8 months ago

Text

𖦹°｡⋆ Just an accessory (tsukishima kei x reader)

⟡ request: hiiiii ! i really like all the stuff u write for tsukki and various other haikyuu boys and was wondering how they'd react to u being upset with them ? like maybe the night before they invite u to celebrate a win with their team but barely paid any attention to u all night so u decide to go home early or just end up going separate ways at the end of the celebration ?

⟡ cw: angst, slight comfort at end but mostly angst, lmk if i missed anything

⟡ a/n: this is going to be multiple parts because i don't like writing small drabbles in one thing but i have two other characters in mind for this

Tsukishima would be pissy at first and say you’re overreacting but would feel bad about it eventually

“Okay, what’s your problem?” Tsukishima asks as he barges into the bathroom where you were doing your morning routine.

“What do you mean?” you ask back as you stare at him with a blank expression through the mirror.

“I mean why did you get out of bed without saying anything or even looking at me? Wait no scratch that what was up with you leaving early last night? I left to go get us drinks but by the time I was back you were nowhere to be found and I had to hear from Kyotani that you said you were going home early and that you looked like you were upset!” your boyfriend shouts as you as you finish your routine and after a few seconds of silence you turn to look at him.

“Are you even going to ask why I was upset or looked upset?” you huff out before pushing him out of the doorway “Because right now it just seems like you’re mad I wasn’t there to be your accessory.”

“What the hell are you even talking about- my accessory?”

“Yes, Kei! An accessory!” you shout back at him as you make your way to the kitchen.

“What does that even mean, [name]?” his tone sounds more annoyed with every word.

Setting down a glass cup, you look up at your boyfriend, tears starting to well in your eyes “It means you barely talked to me or included me in any conversation last night,” you sniff out, holding back tears “I felt like I was just there to fill space next to you and not actually there to be with you.”

Tsukishima's eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by the sudden sadness. “What are you talking about? I was celebrating with the team. You know how important the win was.”

“Celebrating with the team while also ignoring me the whole time,” you reply, voice trembling. “I felt like I wasn’t even there, Kei. You spent the entire time talking to only them, and I was just… there.”

He rubs the back of his neck, clearly struggling to understand. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just... I didn’t realize.”

“That’s the problem,” you say, voice softening. “You didn’t realize. You never realize. And it hurts.”

Tsukishima sighs, his frustration turning into anger. “You’re overreacting. It was just one night.”

“Just one night?” you repeat, feeling more hurt. “It’s not just about last night, Kei. It’s about how I feel all the time when we are with other people. It’s like I’m not there and it really hurts.”

His expression is a mix of confusion and irritation. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I shouldn’t have to, Kei,” you sigh, wiping away a tear. “I want to be with someone who sees me, who notices when I’m not okay. I want to feel like I matter.”

He rolls his eyes, clearly still annoyed but this time, with himself. “You do matter. I’m sorry, I didn’t think about how you felt. Can we talk about this? Really talk?”

You take a deep breath, looking into his eyes. “Yeah, we can talk. But things need to change, Kei. I can’t keep feeling like this.”

“I understand,” he says, his voice finally coming to a soft tone. “I’ll do better. I promise. Just... don’t leave without telling me what’s wrong next time, okay?”

You nod, feeling a small sense of hope. “Okay. But you have to promise to really try.”

“I promise,” he says softly, pulling you into a hug. “I’m sorry for making you feel like a prop. You’re so much more than that to me.”

You hug him back, hoping that the next time, things have changed.

#tsukishima angst #tsukishima kei angst #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu x reader fluff #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima kei x reader fluff #tsukishima x reader fluff #tsukishima x reader angst #tsukishima kei x reader angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

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rainydayathogwarts · 2 months ago

Note

Hiiiii! The first thing I wanted to say was that I LOVE your writing, it’s SO GOOD. I was wondering if you could write like a friends to lovers about Sirius where like they won’t admit their feeling for each other and then it ends with like LOWKEY rly dirty smut. Idk if that’s too much to ask but I would really love it!

Productivity boost - Sirius Black

thank you so much lovely, i hope you enjoy this! cw: SMUT, exhibitionism, semi-public sex? no protection wc: 2.6k+

A thoughtful hum. A subtle lick of your lips. A hand brushing your hair out of your face. Sirius swallowed up all of your movements like a hungry predator, and he rushed to offer you the hair tie around his wrist. At the realisation of what Sirius had offered you, you laughed joyously, deeply thanking him as you took it from his hands. Tying your hair back loosely, you felt your cheeks heat up, a smile on your face that you weakly tried hiding with a hand over your mouth. Sneaking a glance back at the boy, you found him still looking your way. You both averted your gazes away from each other at the same time, humiliated by the prospect of being caught.

From across the table, Remus and Lily shot each other an exasperated look, and when James joined the four of you, they sent him the same one. Immediately, the boy knew what was happening, dropping his bag down and rolling his eyes before slumping down on the floor with the rest of you, working on the low table in front of the fireplace. It had been weeks of you and Sirius exchanging flirtatious glances and teasing conversations, touchiness between you increasing as you commonly shared hugs, sneaky hands lingering on waists. Because you were the only two of the friend group taking potions as a NEWT, it meant you had six hours of fooling around together in lessons a week, and therefore, you’d become considerably closer.

Sirius placed a hand on the small of your back, leaning close to you to peak at your answers over your shoulder. His hot breath on your neck had you glancing his way, otherwise accustomed to his gentle touch in your skin. “Anything I can help you with Mr. Black?” You teased, looking at him over your shoulder. He leaned his chin on your shoulder, scanning through your homework. “Yeah,” he mumbled “Have you done question 6? The use of the stewed mandrake in the oculus potion?” You gasped Sirius’s name out, attracting the attention of the three students facing you. “We have to complete 50 questions for tomorrow and you’re only at question 6? Might as well choose to do the essay instead.” Sirius made a grumbled sound of annoyance, mumbling about ‘boring essays’, but he straightened his back, watching as you flicked through endless pages of your assignment until you found the right page. You handed it to him, explaining your writing process, and Sirius smiled, watching intently as you spoke.

Neither you, Lily, Remus nor James missed the way Sirius’s eyes dipped down to focus on your lips, but you didn’t acknowledge it, instead smiling softly at him as you finished your explanation. You brought your hand to Sirius’s flimsy assignment paper, tapping your finger on it, instantly grabbing Sirius’s attention as you said “Now eyes on here, Black.” Sirius groaned, letting himself fall against your side, his eyes trained on your face. You chuckled, ignoring Sirius’s pleading look, instead continuing to answer the questions due tomorrow. “Sweetheart, Slughorn’s going to give you a detention if you don’t finish this.” “S’fine.” You turned to face Sirius, pushing yourself up into a standing position and offering him both your hands. “How about we go on a walk? Get a short break and come back? Boost our productivity?” Sirius happily took your hands, barely putting his weight on you as he slid his legs under him, pushing himself onto his feet and giving you false belief that you helped him up. Sirius only let go of one of your hands, the other one intertwining with your fingers as he led you away from the study table.

You furrowed your eyebrows as Sirius led you further down the common room. You pointed in the direction of the common room’s exit, mumbling a small “But-“, but Sirius ignored you, pulling you up a a set of stairs that led to the boys dormitories. “I hope they just fuck and get it over with.” Remus grumbled, earning himself a slap on the back from James, who barked out a loud laugh, watching you both disappear behind the curve of the stairs.

“Sirius!” You gasped when the boy tugged you into the room, locking the door behind you and climbing over his bed to finally reach the balcony attached to his dorm. Throwing yourself onto the bed, you followed Sirius with your gaze, watching as his soft hair was pushed away from his face with the wind’s soft ripples. Suddenly, he turned his attention to you, pupils dilating at the sight if you draped over his sheets, your skirt dangerously high up, exposing your thighs. “Come out here!” Sirius called out, nodding his head in his direction, watching as you kicked your flats off, leaving you in white socks. You shook your head with a giggle, your laughs increasing when Sirius ran towards you, hands finding home in the dips of your waist, tickling you softly. “No!” You screeched with a smile, and Sirius’s tickles immediately subsided, instead gripping both your hands to try and pull you off the mattress. You tugged him in your direction, still giggling, and Sirius let you pull him onto his own bed, a wide smile on his face.

“Come on, I want to show you something.” He whispered, beginning to get up again. You followed him, arms snaking around his waist from the back, peeking around his torso to look at the view from the balcony. Sirius raised one of his arms, wrapping it around your shoulders as you released your hold on him, now standing by his side. “Look at the view.” He mumbled, and you smiled, your stare fixed onto him, his sharp jawline and soft hair. “Mhm, I am.” You replied, making Sirius turn his head towards you. He smiled teasingly, “You are, huh?” You hummed in agreement, biting your bottom lip and turning away from him.

Sirius’s free hand travelled to your hip, trying to turn you to face him. “Come on, look at me.” Obediently, you returned your gaze towards him, cocking your head to the side. The arm wrapped around your shoulder moved so Sirius’s hand could cup your face, one thumb softly caressing your skin. “I think you’re a thousand times more beautiful than this view could ever be.” “Oh Sirius.” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up as you dug your face in his chest. Sirius’s fingers were quick to pull your face out of hiding, a handsome smile gracing his features. Silently, you both stared at each other until finally, Sirius began leaning his face closer to yours.

Quickly, you pressed yourself onto your tip toes, immediately connecting your lips to his. Both your arms were instantly thrown over the tall boy’s shoulders, one of his hands cupping your cheek whilst the other wrapped tightly around your waist, dangerously low on your back. Sirius’s tongue pushed into your mouth, causing a low whimper to escape your lips, which he instantly swallowed up. He desperately licked into your mouth and you sighed into the kiss, tongue battling against his for dominance. Sirius pulled away from the kiss, grinning when you tried reconnecting your lips. Instead, he held you back, only leaning down to press his lips against yours in two short, chaste kisses. You pouted, a pleading look in your eyes telling Sirius you wanted more. Sirius held your chin between his thumb and index, pulling your lips apart before he finally kissed you again in an open mouthed kiss, easily gliding his tongue against yours.

You moaned into the kiss, pulling away sharply to drag Sirius back into the dorm, and push him onto his bed. He climbed up the mattress, and you quickly climbed over him, knees on either side of his thighs. Your chest brushed against Sirius’s as you leaned over him, desperately deepening the kiss, which you finally took control of. Sirius tightly gripped your hips, pushing them down onto his lap, where you ground yourself deliciously against his pelvis, feeling the ridge of his cock through his trousers. A moan ripped out of Sirius’s chest, his mouth opening in a breathless gasp. Your kisses trailed towards Sirius’s jaw and neck, biting on his skin before licking over the area, soothing the burn. He groaned, bucking his hips up into you, and you paused your kisses, sitting up on the boy’s lap to attempt to unbutton his shirt.

Sirius chuckled at your miserable attempt, pushing himself onto his elbows to watch you clumsily pull the buttons out of their little sockets, revealing inches of Sirius’s chest at a time, until finally, the entire shirt was unbuttoned. You wet your lips, gaping at his lean torso in admiration, and Sirius shuffled on the bed to toss the shirt on the floor. Your hands travelled down Sirius’s chest and down his abdomen, finally landing at the top of his trousers. Sirius clasped his hand over yours, chuckling quietly. “Calm down sweetheart.” And with a powerful buck of his hips and turn of his body, Sirius had rolled you over on the bed, trapping you underneath him.

You squealed, gripping Sirius’s biceps, and he immediately mimicked your previous movements, exposing your chest to him. Sirius groaned, lowering his face so he could press kisses all over your chest, focusing on your breasts. You sighed in satisfaction, tangling a hand in his hair as he left kisses on your skin. Sirius traced the edge of your bra with one finger before pulling the cup down to expose your tit. You gasped, watching as Sirius fluttered kisses around your nipple, waiting for it to harden before wrapping his lips around it and sucking hard. You jolted upwards, gasping in shock, and Sirius grinned, letting go of your sensitive nub before he continued his exploration downwards.

Without hesitation, he hooked his fingers in the fabric of your panties underneath your skirt, tugging it down in one swoop. Sirius crawled back on the bed, laying down on his stomach and hooking his arms around your thighs. “Sirius, you don’t-“ “Shhh!” Sirius interrupted, closing his eyes as he pressed kisses down your slit before licking up your cunt, causing your eyes to shoot wide open. Sirius brought one of his hands up to part your lips, fingers searching for your clit. Sirius grinned when he found the sensitive sub, putting pressure on it and watching how you squirmed.

Sirius dipped his head down, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking hard. You moaned loudly, digging your head into the mattress behind you, fingers lacing in Sirius’s hair and tugging. Sirius used the same fingers to tease your entrance, dipping the tips of his fingers into your hole. “Sirius,” You gasped, looking out to the side, where the balcony door was proudly open. “Sirius, the balcony is open!” You cried, slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans, and Sirius detached from your pussy with a loud ‘pop’.

“Oh, you into that?” “What?” But it was too late to change Sirius’s mind: he was already pulling you off his bed. You stood on shaky feet, letting Sirius drag you outside onto the balcony. You rushed to button your shirt up again, making yourself somewhat decent as Sirius pushed you against the railing.

“Sirius?” You asked breathlessly, listening closely to the zipping of Sirius’s trousers. “If this is what you’re into, I don’t mind.” He teased jokingly, pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck. “Someone could see us.” You whispered, glancing at him over your shoulder. A serious look overtook the boy’s face and he asked “Does that bother you? We can go inside.” But with an eager shake of your head, a smile was easily breaking out onto his face again.

Sirius cursed behind you, guiding his cock underneath your skirt to hide himself from the world. At the same time, he drove his cock between your folds, dipping his tip into your entrance. You tightly gripped the railing to steady yourself, bracing for the impact of Sirius’s cock impaling through your folds. When it finally came, your whole body jolted forward at the force of his thrust, your moan so loud you barely heard Sirius’s groan, his fingers digging into your hips so hard it would definitely leave marks. Sirius cursed from behind you, internally saying a short prayer that he wouldn’t cum before you - that would leave a bad impression. Sirius’s hips began rocking slowly into you, as if apologising for the brutal first thrust he had given you, massaging your gummy walls. You unwillingly clenched around Sirius’s cock, shutting your eyes tightly to will yourself not to lose control over your moans. Oh, you wished Sirius would be nice on you. And he was, just not in the sense you were talking about.

Sirius’s pace quickly increased, his hips colliding into yours, balls making a sharp slapping sound against your ass. You whined loudly, biting your lip to suppress your sounds, but Sirius quickly held your face in one of his hands, turning you slightly to look at him, and he muttered in between harsh breaths “Let me hear you darling.” You gave him a pleading look, desperate not to get caught by anyone. Sirius chuckled, thrusting his hips into you with more power, but you didn’t relent, the only sound coming out of you being little gasps for breaths. Sirius let go of your hip with one hand, circling it to your front and letting his fingers delve between your folds to rub at your clit. He felt your leg twitch, and throwing your head back onto Sirius’s shoulder, you allowed him the view of your teeth freeing your bottom lip, mouth opening to let a high pitched moan disperse into the chilly afternoon air.

“Oh god!” You cried, letting go of the railing with one hand to reach back towards Sirius. Sirius let go of your hip, his free hand now reaching forward to hold your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. He caressed his thumb over your hand, pressing fluttering kisses on your neck as he continued steadily thrusting into you. “‘M so close!” You breathed out, your chest heaving as you tried catching your breath. Each intake was broken up by new moans rippling to your surface, Sirius’s fingers making quick work on your clit.

“Come on, cum for me.” In your preoccupation over your own pleasure, you failed to realise that Sirius’s thrusts were becoming sloppier, prioritising power over speed as he reached his orgasm. You whined loudly as you came, your orgasm causing a violent shake in your thighs, legs barely holding you up. Sirius wrapped an arm around your waist to help steady you, biting your shoulder to muffle his own cries as he unloaded his load of cum into you, thrusts gently subsiding. “Fuck, fuck, I love you, I love you so much.” The cloud of pleasure cleared from your brain just as Sirius uttered those words, and your eyes widened, hands gripping the railing one more as Sirius finally pulled out of you.

You didn’t give the boy a moment to recover before you were spinning around to look at him with a wide grin on your face. “What was that?” You teased, watching as his face turned a deep shade of red in humiliation. “Nothing, I- nothing.” He mumbled, tucking himself back in his trousers.

You stalked closer to Sirius, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin on his chest. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around you. “So if it’s nothing, then now isn’t a good time to confess my feelings for you?” Sirius’s eyes shot wide open at your question, and he immediately scanned your face as though trying to detect a sign that you were lying. “You like me?” But to answer his inquiry, you only pushed yourself up on your tippy toes, pressing your lips against his.

#rainydayathogwarts #harry potter #hogwarts #gryffindor #the marauders #sirius being sirius #sirius black fanart #sirius black smut #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #marauders #mauraders #rainydayathogwarts inbox

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ohdearlingwhathappened · 9 months ago

Note

Hiiiii! I read your cozy Starscream comfort fic on Ao3 and have followed you here :3

You mentioned being open to writing prompt requests; if this one strikes your fancy, I have one for you!

Prompt:

Something comforting about a Human!Reader who lately feels overlooked because they are inclined to be quiet in a group, and their shyness means they don't speak up or assert themselves unless something is really, really important. They listen far more than they speak. And even when they do speak up in a group... it's like no one hears them often times, and they get talked over.

Starscream, Soundwave, Optimus, or Mirage, if either of those four 'bots stir your muse?

Ahhh! Thank you for your request, and I’m sorry for the wait. I haven’t had the opportunity to write for Soundwave, OP, or Mirage so I’ll do blurbs for all four, but you mentioned Screamer is one of your favorites, so I made his a little longer! I hope you enjoy!

Soundwave (G1) WC: 608

The Decepticon site of operations is lively in the face of the most recent win against the Autobots, meaning high grade is being passed around like no one’s business. As the resident human, on site to assist the Decepticons with tasks that only small hands can manage- even smaller than the minis and the cassettes can manage. Only problem is- with how tiny and squishy you are, it is important that the cons watch their step- a task they frequently forget to do, even the Leader of the Decepticons himself, who made the declaration.

With the high grade flowing and inhibitions lowering, the pedes around you hold no caution, making it obvious your… friends(?) have forgotten your existence… again. Having had enough of nearly becoming a smear on the floor, you make your way to the side of the room and press yourself to the wall as you scooch your way to the doorway. As soon as you make your escape from the room, you slam into someone’s shin and fall back on your rear.

“Inquiry: Why are you distressed?”

Looking up, the one and only Soundwave looking down at you with his helm tilted, a reminder that you’re so small and often forgotten surges through you and forces your eyes to well up with tears. It was such an odd feeling, crying at the pedes of one of the high command officers, who you can only imagine is staring blankly at you through his visor. Instead of waiting for any answer, the mech lifts you with his thumb and index digit and carries you away from the scene. It’s hard to keep track of where he’s taking you, your blurred vision keeping you from mapping his walking patterns.

After a few moments, your tears have slowed enough for you to wipe them away, just in time to see Soundwave briefly stop before a door and have him open it with a couple of buttons on the wall. Walking in, you notice Frenzy and Rumble in a halfhearted argument, Lazerbeak perched on the edge of the rather large berth, and Ravage curled up in the middle who, upon hearing Soundwave’s return, lifts his head to regard him. The Commander approaches his berth, Ravage moving temporarily before curling up in his master’s lap, once he made sure you were comfortable. Rumble and Frenzy grinning, their previous conversation dropped at the prospect of a recharge of a new entertainment source, run and climb their way onto the berth on either side of Soundwave, and on his shoulder, Lazerbeak finds his new perch.

“Ooo, is the human going to tell us about human stuff?” Frenzy’s grin doesn’t waver as he leans in toward you. Normally, the cassettes are much too wrapped up in either infighting or Soundwave’s orders, so they don’t really talk to you much, unless you’re needed for something.

“They will speak if they want. Or they can recharge.” Soundwave, as per usual, speaks plainly- it would be easy to misunderstand his tone for uncaring curtness, if you didn’t know him and the care for his cassettes better.

Rumble and Frenzy both look to you, hopeful, and even Ravage, with his head in your lap, looks up to you in mild interest. It was a nice change of pace in comparison to the giants who would often forget you were even there. It briefly occurred to you to thank Soundwave later for not only helping you get away from the so-called party, but giving you some well-needed attention. You smile gently to the cons looking to you and clear your throat,

“Um… well, what would you like to know?”

Optimus (TFP) Gender-neutral reader WC: 692

“I’m not sure if that’ll work, Ratchet.” Arcee peeks around the medic’s frame, looking at the plans for intercepting a possible shipment of energon the Decepticons were planning on transporting, if their movement patterns indicated anything. You look at the computer from your spot on the raised platform, trying to make sense of the plan Ratchet had input.

“Maybe if-” You spoke up, albeit softly, trying to find a compromise, though you’re promptly cut off by the previously mentioned mech.

“And I’m not sure when I asked for your opinion, Arcee. Shouldn’t you be looking over your ward?” Ratchet snaps back, tired and obviously agitated by the state of the Autobot’s own energon storage.

“Ratchet, that seems a little-” You try again.

“I’m just saying. It’s not like you’re on the field much- there are better ways to plan an interception of Decepticon forces.” The blue and pink femme argues, tensions rising as her optical ridges furrow and a servo finds its way to her hip.

“Don’t forget who-”

You don’t stay around long enough to hear whatever snide comment the older bot was going to spit at Arcee, tired of feeling ignored and make your way down the hall, wanting to be anywhere other than the main silo of the base. Passing by Optimus, you don’t say anything, not wanting the feeling of anyone else not acknowledging your existence to sting you yet again today.

“My friend, you seem disheartened.” Optimus’ deep voice reverberates through the hall, less of a question and more of a statement, not giving you the chance to pretend you didn’t hear him. You turn around and grant him a half smile, before it drops and you avert your gaze.

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, Optimus. You might want to lend Ratchet and Arcee a servo- they’re caught up in a bit of a feud about the next mission.” Tapering off at the end, Optimus briefly glances towards the main part of the Autobot headquarters, where he can faintly hear the aforementioned pair squabbling about details he would hear about and consider later.

“Those two have been fighting this war for many stellar cycles and will come to a solution. For now, I believe I have something much more pressing to focus on.” Taking a knee, the leader of the Autobots holds down a servo for you to step onto. Once you have taken a seat and braced yourself against one of his digits, Optimus stands and holds you close to his chassis for further stability and begins walking back to his habsuite. “You do not have to tell me what is troubling you, but you are free to do so.”

It takes you a moment- you feel silly singing your woes to someone who has been fighting in a civil war for longer than you can conceive, but the feelings simply bubble up, “I feel small… smaller than I am, I mean. I can’t imagine the stress and exhaustion everyone faces from fighting for so long, but it feels like no one sees me. And if they do, they can’t bring themselves to care.” You curl up in Optimus’ hand and take a shaky breath through your welling tears, “I must sound so selfish- you all have so much more important things to do than worry about the feelings of some human.”

“One of our human friends.” Optimus chimes in, drawing your eyes away from boring holes into your knees to his optics, “It is true that we are anxious for the end of this war, but know this, you are our friend, and we care so deeply for you. You matter just as much as any other autobot, Cybertronian or human. I can assure you, I am not the only one who holds this belief.”

Before you say anything, the mech stops in front of his door, punching in his code and sitting you on a desk that must have been built for his size and he sits himself on his berth. He gives you a rare, gentle smile that fills so many with hope.

“Would you like to tell me about your day?”

Mirage (ROTB) Gender-neutral reader WC: 533

“Woah, woah, woah! What’s got you down in the dumps?” Mirage looks through your apartment window, forcing a yelp from your throat. You leap up from your bed and rush to the window, motioning for him to get down.

“What are you doing?! Get down before someone sees you!”

It’s pitch black out, wherever the street light doesn’t touch, but you still worry about the possibility of Mirage being seen, like he was when you met him as he was standing outside of Noah’s apartment- which then basically sucked you into this crazy adventure of saving the world from other space robots. You had stayed behind with Bumblebee to watch over him until a sudden surge in the energon brought him back, so you unfortunately missed all of the action of the final battle.

“Nice try, but no avoiding the question. Besides, no one’s walkin’ around at like… 2:50 am.” Despite his counter, Mirage lets go of the fires escape’s railing, his new frame rattling and resulting in a resounding thud and more than a couple of cracks in the pavement below. One of his servos comes into view for you to jump on, “Come on, small fry, I wanna go for a ride while the streets are as empty as they’ll get.”

“Why not get Noah to go with you? He too busy?” Your questioning would lead the bot to believe you wouldn’t be joining him for a spin, if he didn’t feel you carefully climb aboard. He lowers you to his eye level and shoots you one of his contagious smiles.

“Naaah. I felt like a you and me kind of night. I want to hear about what you’re up to, now that I’m not locked up in that garage anymore.” For further emphasis, he stretches his arms out wide and groans in relief. It had been a few months since Peru, and while you had visited Mirage while Noah had been fixing him up, it definitely wasn’t the same as him being out and in his element.

He doesn’t wait for any further response and transforms, quickly making his way down the road, no particular destination in mind, knowing him. The city passes you by quickly, Mirage not giving a second thought to any speed limit signs he sees, remembering he considers them suggestions, not law. Snapping you out of your thoughts, Mirage clears his throat, “Well? The tread on my tires isn’t getting any thicker- what’s my favorite human been up to?”

“Your favorite, huh?” Whether or not he really meant it, the thought brings a smile to your face.

“Well, duh. I got out of that garage, and the first thing I did was come see you, so spill the oil- gimme drama.”

“...You won’t believe what Elena told me happened at the museum the other day-”

The rest of the evening was spent driving the backroads outside of the city, telling Mirage anything and everything. Mirage listens aptly, responding when needed, and takes pleasure in knowing he’s distracted you from whatever was dragging you down. You’re part of his home team, and he’s not just going to stand by while you fall victim to your thoughts.

Starscream (TFP) Gender-neutral WC:1431

“Starscream! I have something to-” Running towards the seeker, his back plate remains facing you as he keeps his focus on Megatron. He normally turns to you, happy to see what his little human has to tell him. Your smile faltering after recognizing he has no plans to turn toward you, “Starscream? Are you ok?”

Megatron glances briefly towards you, but doesn’t say anything to neither you nor his second in command, likely due to the fact that they were waiting for Soundwave to return with more information before choosing any action, so your presence isn’t much of an interruption. Trying to hold onto the hope he just has yet to hear or notice you, you give his heel strut a tap, remembering how he had once told you he keeps special attention to that area for you. You furrow your brow at the confirmation of him ignoring you, your voice lowering in volume, “Starscream, what’s going on?”

“Starscream, I suggest you see to your… pet, before it becomes too much of a distraction.” Megatron growls at him, not bothering to glance back down at you.

“Of course, Lord Megatron. It was just leaving.” He still didn’t look down to you, keeping his optics glued to his leader.

It?

Without further ado, you quickly leave the room, not having any desire to stay where you are not wanted. Storming down the hall, you aren’t sure where you’re heading, but the plan was getting out, even if just for a few hours. There was no leaving the Decepticons- especially not with everything you’ve overheard, been told, and seen- you’d be hunted down in less than a day.

“Woah-ho-ho! Where are you headed off to?” Breakdown, despite standing to the side to allow you to pass without the possibility of disaster occurring. The blue mech and his partner have been a nice comfort and support system ever since Starscream first brought you onto The Nemesis, often shielding you from Megatron’s ire when Starscream wasn’t around.

“I’m finding a way off this ship, since I’ve obviously worn out my novelty.” You sniffle, refusing to shed a tear over someone you thought cared about you.

“...How about I take you to the lab, so you can tell Knockout and me about what happened.” Breakdown smiled down at you, letting it grow when you nod and allow him to lift you up and onto his shoulder. And before long, you were sitting in front of Knockout and Breakdown explaining what happened on the bridge.

“-and then he goes, ‘it was just leaving’. He called me an it.” Whispering, you were sitting on one of the medical tables while both mechs lean against a parallel table. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, finally looking up to gauge their reactions. There stood Knockout with his mouth slightly agape, and Breakdown’s frown was deeply set in his faceplate.

“That slimy, scrawny-”

“Now now, Breakdown. I think there’s a lesson we can teach our superior.” Knockout, being broken out of his aghast stupor, rested a servo on his partner’s shoulder and smirks. He returns his attention to you and raises an optical ridge, “How does that sound?”

“Depends on what you mean, I guess.”

“Well, I deduced that you likely ran from the room after you were disrespected, am I right?” As you nod, he continues, “Right, so the last time Starscream saw you, you were in quite the distressed state. My idea is to let him believe that you left and let the slagger squirm in a panic.”

“He won’t. He didn’t even look at me earlier. Why would he care now?” The hem that you’ve been playing with during this conversation now scrunched in your fingers, hating the thought you’ve been discarded with so little thought.

A digit lifts your chin, forcing you to face the medic and his assistant, who smile down at you, “Trust me, dear. Starscream will care, he’s just an aft.

* * * * * *

“Starscream, sir.” Breakdown hastily walks onto the bridge, mentally noting the lack of Megatron.

“Breakdown… what is it?” Starscream turns to face the destructive warrior, face obviously in no mood for foolishness.

“The human-”

“What’s happened?” Starscream’s optics widen, panic already setting in.

“They’re gone, sir.”

“What do you mean, they’re gone?! They are to remain on this ship at all times, unless they are accompanied by myself!” Starscream grabs Breakdown by the edge of his chassis plating and pulls him forward to better snarl in his face.

“They said something about being done with their stay here and made their way to one of the storage bays with the airlocks.” Breakdown shrugs, not showing any care for the mech who is beginning to dig his talons into his frame. Knockout wouldn’t be happy about his partner’s scratched paint and plating, but that would be a problem to deal with later.

“Why would you not stop them, you incompetent-” Starscream pauses, unlatching himself from the larger mech. His optics narrow and he sneers, “They haven’t left this ship, and I’m willing to bet my next share of energon that they’re in that lab. Get out of my way!”

Shoving his way past Breakdown, he passes through the doorway and changes to his alt mode to faster get to the doctor’s lab, Breakdown quickly following behind him. Reaching the lab in record time, Starscream slams his fisted servo into the doorframe as the metal door swishes open, revealing Knockout gently speaking with you about how everything is going to get worked out one way or the other.

“What is the meaning behind trying to fool me into believing my star has left this ship?!”

“I don’t know, screamer. Why do you make your star feel ignored and unwelcome?” Knockout stands to his full height and crosses his arms.

“Know your place, doctor.” His voice is low and holds promise for consequences, if your friend continues to display disrespect.

“I know my place, Starscream. Do you?”

“Why you-”

“Would you both stop it?!” You yell, startling everyone in the room. It isn’t common for you to raise your voice, always preferring to stand down, listen, and stay calm. But this was just all too much.

The room was quiet, everyone not knowing what quite to do next, all mechs looking between themselves, then turning their optics to you. Another moment passes and Starscream turns to Knockout, much more calmly than before, “Knockout, I would like some time alone with them… please.”

The flashy Decepticon makes sure you’re ok before taking his leave, with Breakdown close behind.

“My star-”

“I’m not your anything. I am not some object or a pet, as Megatron so quaintly put it.” You snip, putting on the show of having no desire to hear what he has to say, despite wanting nothing more for him to give you a good reason for his behavior earlier and for him to apologize. “And you didn’t- … you - do I really matter so little to you?”

“Of course not. My star, you are the most important being in my life. But it is becoming increasingly difficult as Megatron’s fury and impatience grows. He anticipates my betrayal at every turn and has, on more than one occasion, threatened your life because of this.” Starscream gently scoops your figure up and presses his derma to the crown of your head, “I am sorry I have hurt you in my attempts to protect you, but I cannot fathom surviving this torturous world without you. Please… forgive me, my brightest star.”

“You’re such an idiot, Starlight.” You bring your arms up to cling to his face plate and lightly cry into his chin. You didn’t expect the weight that was lifted off your shoulders at his confession, but you were so grateful for the fact that it was just Starscream making a foolish decision.

“I would have to agree with you in this instance.” Starscream’s small, airy chuckle blows past your hair, and he presses yet another kiss to your forehead. “Will you forgive me, my dear?”

“I’ll forgive you just this once, but don’t ever make such a decision without telling me again.”

“You have my word. Now, why were you so excited earlier?”

“Well I…”

You spent the next few cycles regaling him about what the vehicons were up to and how silly Steve was behaving, knowing their idea wasn’t going to work. You love being able to talk to Starscream, knowing you were one of the only people he would give his full attention to. You love your mech. Your silly, silly mech.

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buck-star · 2 months ago

Text

When night comes | B.B

>> Sweet, loving by day — but the man has a deep secret that only comes out at night. No sweet or loving man left when he gets feral over something he wants to be his — and only his. <<

//Pairing// Vampire!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

//Wordcount// 7.184

//Warnings// Minors DNI, 18+, vampire!Bucky, possessive!Bucky, protective!Bucky, slight dom!Bucky, kind of stalking, reader draws Bucky, mention of blood, smut, finger sucking, fingering (fem!rec), protected p in v, multiple orgasm, size kink, claiming/bitting, licking over the wound to heal it, one slap on her tits, praises

//Request// Oh man. 3, 2, 10. Protective and size being the big want here. Fuck me up homie. @l0calcrypt1ds

//Authors Note// Thank you for the request, I thought protective Bucky with size kink and one bed would fit into this one pretty good. So hope you like it! Thank you to @holylulusworld for listening to me about it all the time.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

It was just a warm summer day, a fresh breeze cutting the burning sun of the day. Your hair moves softly with the wind, especially with every movement you’re doing forward. There aren’t any disturbing thoughts in your mind at the moment, the feeling of the warmth after so many days of rain, making you happy and helping you to relax between your work and private life.

Even though there isn’t that much going on in your private life, not since your new boss is managing the business and making you finish your work every day no matter how long you have to work or if it’s someone else's shit you have to do, he doesn’t care.

So there isn’t much time for you to do something for yourself, except today — your first day free in a long while. Luckily for you, the sun is shining, the weather is perfect and you couldn’t imagine something better than just being in the park with ice, your notebook and pen.

You walk slowly through the park, already seeing your favorite ice booth, smiling widely when the sun warms you and you already feel anticipation to get your favorite ice cream.

Around you are a few people, some with their kids, some with their friends but it’s nothing new for you. You’re working with people all day. A small girl is running toward you, looking back at her brother who chases after her. She runs straight into your arms without wanting it, shrieking when her small arms are suddenly wrapped around your thighs.

“Oh- Hiiiii,” she giggles, looking up at you. Her small hands caressing your skin over your knee and you smile at her. “‘m sorry, my brother is chasing after me.”

Her giggles make you smile even more, she is adorable. You don’t have kids, you’re too busy with work and haven’t met the right guy yet. Maybe you will find someone someday who wants a family with you and then maybe someday there will be small little kids running through your apartment. Maybe jumping on top of you in the early morning where you and your future man will be still tired but the moment you will look at them and their pretty smile you will see everything you always needed — a family with the man you love and some sweet kids and maybe one or two dogs.

But right now you have that little girl in front of you, smiling at you. She lets go of your thighs, taking a step backwards before she runs once again to get away from her laughing brother. He grins at you as well, running next to you to chase further after his sister. “COME HERE! We are not done yet! You tickled me now it’s my turn,” he giggles sweetly.

You shake your head amused by the two kids, then you continue walking to your favorite ice cream booth. There aren’t many people just yet, which is surprising because it’s not only your favorite place to get ice cream plus it’s a warm day, a free day for most people and it’s in the middle of the park.

“Hey,” you greet the smiling lady behind the counter. She is wearing a shirt with the logo of the shop. She nods toward you, waiting for you to look for whatever you want to order.

“And? Do you already know what you want or do you need a moment to decide?” She asks, looking at you the whole time while you look through all the different kinds of ice cream.

After a while you sit at the lake in the park, legs dangling over the edge of the bench while you hold your notebook in your hands, looking around for some inspiration to draw. Your eyes roam over the trees, the lake and the people until…

There is one man who gets your attention, he is sitting in the shade of the tree, he wears a dark shirt and dark, long pants. Compared to the others around you his clothes are dark and his pants are long, definitely not for such warm weather.

You study him, his long, dark-brown hair, hanging in his face, covering half of it. The end on his broad shoulders, your eyes roam lower to his stomach where his dark shirt is tight enough to reveal his highly defined muscular abs. His waist is small, leading to his long legs to his feet. You let your gaze slide back to his face which is still covered with his long hair.

Only when he moves slightly and the sun is slightly shining on him do you see a glistening — a necklace which is stuck in his shirt. You’re not sure why but he has something you want to discover, something mysterious and kind of scary but still interesting.

Without thinking much more you bring your pen down on the page of your notebook, starting to draw the broad form of the man. Little do you know, that he looks at you, taking in every small movement you’re doing, smirking to himself when he notices that you can’t keep your eyes off him — you like the mysterious, he knows it, he knew from the day he saw you walking down the street after work. And since then he knew he has to have you, he needs you to be his — only his.

You look up at him every now and then, taking in his big frame, trying to catch all the details while he doesn’t really move all the time. It’s like he knows that you draw him, like he wants you to notice him. With a soft smile across your lips you finish the first part of your drawing, you now need to draw some prominent lines and then the shadows before you’re finished with your drawing of the mysterious man.

Slowly he gets up, his eyes always on you but you look fast focused on your notebook, not giving him any kind of attention anymore. He huffs, gritting his teeth slightly when a man walks past you, eyes looking down at your smaller frame, not noticing the guy in front of you — luckily for him he doesn’t talk or touch you, just casually walking further through the park.

Once you’re almost done with your drawing you look up to look at the tree once again. Your smile drops as soon as you notice that the man isn’t sitting there anymore. Trying to find him somewhere else in the park you look around, behind you, right, left but there is not a single hint that the man who sat there just a few minutes ago was even in the park.

“Lookin’ for someone, darlin’?” A deep voice suddenly asks and your head shoots to your side, you gasp. There he is — standing right next to you, his ocean blue eyes focused on you and he smiles down at you, before letting himself fall down on the bench beside you. “Don’t want ya to look sad because ya think I’m not sayin’ ‘Hi’.”

Your eyes scan his face, from his hair upwards, over his forehead — his skin pale and you wonder if he doesn’t like the sun or just works a lot as well. You let your gaze slide to his eyes, ocean blue — you have trouble looking at something else, his eyes holding yours intensely. When you finally manage to study his face further you reach his plump lips — red and soft, causing you to shiver once again.

“Like what ya see?” He asks, his tone amused. You nod your head, staring into his eyes once again. A low chuckle leaves his throat, his blue eyes roaming over your face as his tongue darts out, sliding across his beautiful lips. The moment his tongue slips back into his mouth his teeth are visible and you notice the two at the side which don't look like normal teeth — they are sharp, shining white as much as the others but those two are just too sharp for normal teeth.

You swallow thickly, frowning. He notices the slight change in your expression, tilting his head to wait for you to say something or just run away and be scared of him. But you don’t, you only shift in your seat, eyes moving from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips.

“Have you— where did you let your teeth form like that?” You ask, smirking at him. You always had a weakness for vampires, especially in the movies and series you watch but unfortunately they aren’t real and maybe it wouldn’t be too funny to stand in front of a feral vampire?

He growls low, sounding like a laugh mixed with a groan. Your cheeks heat up and you shift in your seat once again. “Not really, I was born with them, not with them but with a smaller version of them.”

You nod your head, not sure if he is joking or not. He really reminds you of those vampires in your series. His skin is so pale and his eyes change sometimes when he smirks they turn into ones that look pretty similar to cat ones. Plus his teeth look just like the ones you saw by vampires.

“Don’t believe me, doll?” He asks, chuckling. His eyes fall to your book and he smirks even wider. “Would you mind changing our place to sit in the shade? Of course, only if you want my company for a while longer.”

“I-I don’t even know your name,” you chuckle, rubbing your hand over the cover of your book as you look into his eyes, still fascinated by them and especially by the mysterious man in front of you. “But if you want we can move to the bench over there?”

The man looks into the direction you point into, a bench underneath a tree is free, a lot of shade and barely sun, like he loves it. With a nod he gets up, holding out his hand for you to grasp and let him pull you up. You place your smaller hand in his, shivering as you see his bright smile the moment he notices that your hand is not only way smaller but feeling also so soft in his rough one.

“Bucky, ya asked for my name, it’s Bucky. Actually James, but ya know,” he chuckles, keeping your hand in his and interlacing your fingers when he walks with you over to the other bench to sit down there and continue talking.

You introduce yourself as well, mumbling his name to see if it feels good when it slips over your lips and it definitely does. He smiles the whole time at you, trying to push his thoughts away, he has waited to get you all for himself for so long now he can’t mess it up with being creepy and scaring you away.

“What do ya paint there? Ya know, I’ve seen ya lookin’ at me all the time,” he asks, nodding at your book. You grip it tighter, unsure if you want to show him or not but he really looks interested.

“I-I draw everything that inspires me, and it was y-you today,” you mumble, opening the book slowly to show him the page you drew him — sitting underneath the tree. Bucky has to admit that your drawing is the most wonderful he has seen in all these years he already lives, and you really caught every detail of him, even the necklace.

— — — —

You sit there with Bucky, talking about everything and nothing but you still don’t know much about him. The sun goes down slowly, the sky darkening and Bucky has less problems walking around, even asking you to go for a walk with him.

The two of you are already walking half an hour through the park and he is such a sweet and loving man, making sure you’re not freezing and not bored, always finding new things to talk about.

“What about your boyfriend, do you have one? Or your family?” He asks, turning his head slightly, his fingers interlaced with yours and he makes sure to keep your hand right where it belongs, in his, with you by his side.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, not even time for one. And my family? We don’t talk often, they live far away. What about you?” You ask, smirking up at him.

He shakes his head, not needing to say anything. His gaze falls to your hands.

“Think I would be out here and talk to someone if I would have my girl at home?”

“No, but maybe you’re playing around?” You giggle, earning a raised eyebrow from him. The two of you continue walking through the park until you reach the end of it where it leads into a small forest.

You’re surrounded by almost complete darkness by now, only some lamps and the stars and the moon light up the night slightly. The wind is cold, causing you to shiver now and then even though you try to hide it from Bucky — he still notices.

“You’re freezing, let me bring you home to me, it’s not far away, just for the night if you want to,” Bucky mumbles, licking his lips as he waits for you to answer. His intense blue eyes staring down at you, giving you no room to discuss with him.

You nod, giving in to him. Bucky leads you into the forest and suddenly you’re not so sure about following him home but you don’t have a choice, do you? Your home isn’t too close to the park and you don’t want Bucky to bring you all the way home as well, so you prefer being around the mysterious man, at least you feel safe with him.

The walk isn’t too long until you see a big mansion in front of you. It’s in black and gray colors, underlining Bucky’s style even more. Even though it looks just as mysterious as Bucky himself it makes you curious how it looks from the inside, how the man lives.

“Darlin’” he mumbles, stopping you in his tracks when you stand in front of the front door. Bucky’s chest is almost pressed against yours when he looks down at you. “My style is not the usual one you know from people, so don’t be scared when I open the door and you’re greeted by another kind of house and things, understood?”

His tone sounds more serious now, not joking but authority is audible. “Y-yes, trust me, I have seen a lot of different styles already.” When you giggle he nods, unlocking the door and opening it.

You gasp, the house is more like a whole mansion, a long floor with a lot of doors, plus stairs with probably more doors leading into different rooms. You step inside, looking around, it’s all in black and dark gray, it really reminds you of the houses of a vampire and a feeling you haven’t had before creeps up inside of you. Maybe Bucky isn’t the one you thought he is? But there are no such things like vampires, right? They only exist in movies, stories but not in real life.

“Take off your shoes and then follow me, doll,” he says, voice soft again. Bucky just likes the style he has in his house, you’re sure about it. But instead of that he is just a sweetheart, taking care of you and being all nice.

You do as you’re told, placing your shoes next to his before following Bucky who walks along the long floor, opening a door which leads into another big room.

A couch stands in the middle, television and a few pictures on the wall and on the other side of the room is a big shelf with a lot of books. You turn to face him, smirking at him.

“Nerd, huh?” You tease, walking further into the room, followed by Bucky who raises his eyebrows. You giggle, letting yourself fall down on his couch which is surprisingly soft underneath you. “Are you a vampire?”

It was just a teasing and fun question but his sudden change in expression causes a cold shiver down your spine. “No nerd. Vampire is way better,” he smirks, taking a seat next to you. “Would you mind that, sweetheart? Would you mind me being a vampire?”

You giggle, shaking your head. You’re giggling a lot around him and it makes you feel embarrassed sometimes but Bucky enjoys your soft giggles, he even loves when you giggle around him.

“I wouldn’t mind but there are no vampires, but if you would be on I wouldn’t mind that,” you say, turning around to sit with your face and chest to Bucky.

“There aren’t?” He asks, the first time he smiles while showing his teeth to you. A soft gasp leaves your lips, your eyes widen when you notice his sharp teeth once again. “Are you sure about that, doll?”

You nod your head, fascinated by his teeth and eyes which turn slowly yellow. “W-What? Y-you like vampires?”

He chuckles, growling at you. Bucky leans forward with a fast but gentle move; he has his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his mouth is right next to your ear. His tongue darts out, sliding over his plumb lips causing them to glisten in the light.

“I do like vampires but you’re my favorite, babygirl. And I don’t just like them,” he growls, his tongue touching the edge of your ear, slowly licking down to your earlobe and then lower to your neck. The moment his soft lips touch your skin he smirks at your goosebumps, gracing his sharp teeth over your soft skin.

“B-Bucky,” you whine, not exactly knowing what you’re begging for — it just slipped past your slightly parted lips. “Please.”

He moves away from you, his hand sliding to the front of your neck and he grabs it in a firm hold. Bucky leans back to look into your eyes, letting his eyes roam over your face for a second before he stares straight into your eyes.

“What is it, doll? What do you want me to do? Claim you, make sure to show everyone that you’re mine? Because that’s what you are, you’re mine and only mine,” he growls, smirking when you whimper.

Your eyes widen once again, you didn’t think he would say things — that he thinks those things — and as hard as it is to believe that he is a vampire you suddenly feel like he really means it.

“Y-you really are a-a vampire? Y-you’re real?” You gasp, mouth drops open when you once again stare at his sharp teeth, earning a soft chuckle followed by a nod.

“That’s what I am, darling,” he chuckles deep in his throat, his expression amused. “You said you wouldn’t mind that.”

He adores — he loves your widened eyes and open mouth, still trusting him because you don’t back away, letting him hold you close, his hand wrapped around your neck. Bucky growls, he wants you so bad, he needs you — he can’t stand other men looking at you and thinking they could have you — Bucky has seen the way the man looked at you with hungry gazes, ready to get you into their bed. But you’re Bucky’s, only Bucky’s.

“A-Are you- do-?” You stumble over your own words, swallowing thickly before clearing your throat. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Bucky’s eyes widen, he immediately shakes his head. “No! Never! I couldn’t, I would never hurt you, unless you ask me to do it, babydoll. But I need you, need you to be mine, want you to be mine,” he says, leaning closer until his lips almost brush yours. You whine, eyes flutter shut when you feel his warm breath on your lips, you want to feel them, taste him.

A soft grunt works his way up his throat as he sees your expression and the way you’re giving in to him already. Bucky knows you’re perfect for him, his babydoll.You wonder what his intentions are but he answers your unspoken question when he leans even closer.

“I want you to be mine, can’t stand the thought of some other man staring at you. I saw you for the first time on a rainy day when you went home from work and I couldn’t stop staring at you. You’re so perfect, I need you, need you to be mine, need to be yours, please, doll,” he mumbles against your lips, his eyes roaming over yours and your nose, waiting for you to answer.

You don’t know what came into your mind to react like that but you couldn’t hold back — you need to feel him. So you lean closer, pressing your lips softly against his plumb ones. Bucky smirks, moving his lips as lovingly and gently as he can against yours. A soft moan escapes your lips and Bucky uses the moment to bring his tongue into the kiss, making every feeling even more intense but still loving.

After a moment he pulls away, smiling at you. He lets his tongue run over his lips again, tasting your sweet scent on them. You can’t still taste his fresh minty taste on your tongue, and the two of you are already addicted to one another.

“Is that kind of magic?” The chuckle he lets out at your question causes even more butterflies in your stomach. In case it’s magic, it’s the best magic you have ever seen and felt. Better than every card trick, hat trick or whatever, Bucky’s magic would be the most beautiful.

But he shakes his head — no magic. “That’s love, doll, nothing but pure love,” he says, grinning at you with the most adorable smile you have ever seen.

You and Bucky are sitting on the couch a while longer, you have too many questions to be able to sleep without having half of them answered by him. And Bucky gladly answers them, trying to explain everything to you as best as he can.

There would be people who would have pushed him away and would have preferred the dark forest instead of a vampire but Bucky is so much more than a blood-hungry vampire — he is loving, gentle, cares and sweet to you — so much more than every man in your life before Bucky.

“Any more questions, babydoll?” He asks, his hand moving up and down your thigh. You shake your head, stopping in your tracks as something comes into your mind. “What is it?”

“Can you kiss me again?”

Bucky chuckles, bringing his hand back to your cheek, his long fingers wrapping around your head, pulling you closer. “Close your eyes,” he whispers, smirking when you obey.

He inhales your sweet scent deeply, pressing his lips gently against yours. The first movement is sweet but then his eyes shoot open and he pulls away, gasping, his breath heavy. You giggle softly until his eyes turn dark, his thumb from his free hand running over his lips and wiping away your mixed saliva with a bit of your blood.

“F-Fuck, darling,” he pants. His instinct tells him to just push you backwards and claim you already but he knows he shouldn’t without your permission. But isn't wanting to kiss him after biting your own lip bloody a kind of permission? “Need you so bad, fuck. Be mine, love, let me make you mine, be with me forever.”

With every other man you would have told him to calm down and make sure you’re dating. But with Bucky? He got your attention the moment he sat there in the shade of the tree earlier that day and being around him makes everything inside of your tingle, causing you to be happy — to be free. Being with Bucky feels like everything you thought would always be a dream but now it’s true, you’re there with a guy who wants you — with a vampire who wants to be yours.

“Babydoll? ‘m sorry,” he mumbles, ready to let go of your cheek but you grasp his hand and hold it in place. “Can I? Can I make you mine, forever?”

You nod softly, smiling at him. He told you that if a vampire is bonding with someone they will stay together forever. It’s a promise normal humans can’t do, but the imagination of you and Bucky forever is something you would love to make real and he is willing to do that — so who are you to deny his request?

“You know I have only one bed anyway, so it makes that even easier because you will stay in my bed with me from now on anyway,” he chuckles. His hand slides down your cheek to your chin, grasping it gently to tilt your head up. “You’re mine, you hear me? Gonna protect you, from everyone’s gaze, from everyone, even your boss who should have been way nicer to you, babydoll.”

You chuckle, sliding your small hand over his big, broad chest. His muscles tensing underneath your soft touch. You can feel his heart beating faster as your hand rests on his chest, feeling his thick muscles flexing underneath your touch.

Bucky sits up straighter, towering over you now. And it’s perfect, so thick and muscular, perfect to protect you from everything, he could pick you up and carry you wherever he wants without effort. And that’s what he does, getting off the couch, placing his hands underneath your thighs to lift you up.

“Look at you, looking all small and pretty in my arms, yeah! That’s what you like, don’t you, sweetheart? You love feeling all protected by me,” he growls, kissing your cheek down to your neck as you tilt your head to the side giving him more space.

Without realizing Bucky walks through the room and into another one, you’re not sure where it is because you’re feeling too good in Bucky’s arms. He carries you through the house, peppering kisses along your neck and jawline but leaving you desperate for more, for his taste. Desperate to feel his lips against yours.

Bucky’s sharp teeth scratch carefully over your sensitive skin, causing you to whine and squirm in his arms. You’ve never felt that desperate, especially not with a man.

He placed you on the bed, it’s comfortable and soft. You let yourself fall down on your back, smiling at him while he takes off his shirt. Bucky reveals his broad, hairy chest, smirking at the way your eyes roam over his thick chest and abs muscles. He then unbuckles his belt, letting his pants fall down on the ground, the sound of the metal hitting the ground echoes through the room but neither of you cares.

Your eyes wander lower to his still covered crotch, his bulge visible through the thin fabric and your mouth immediately waters. Bucky’s not only thick but also big down there. Just as his chest his thighs look perfectly fine but as much as hurry you can’t help but stare at his still growing cock.

“You like what you see, doll? How about we help you out of your sweet outfit so I’m not the only one being almost naked here?” He asks, getting a soft whimper from you. Bucky smirks, knowing that you want him to take off his boxers but he doesn’t want to give you that just yet, first he wants to admire your body.

The vampire walks slowly toward you, crawling onto the bed and almost towering above you. He grasps your ankles, your back rests against the headboard and you smile at him but he pulls you down by your ankles to reach your pants. Bucky opens them, pushing them down and leaving you in your shirt and a pair of panties as he spreads your legs to get in between them.

Bucky smirks, running his fingers from your thigh up to your hips and further underneath your shirt. He curls the hem of the shirt around his thick fingers, with one smooth movement he has ripped it into pieces and throws it somewhere into the room.

Before you can protest he shushes you, his thumb tracing your lips before he pushes it inside your mouth, letting you suck his thumb. You twirl your tongue around it, moaning at his taste.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He growls, grinning at you. Bucky lets his fingers slide out of your mouth again, smearing your saliva over your lips before removing his hand completely. “Stay quiet, let me admire you a bit, can you do that, doll?”

You nod your head, your eyes roaming over his face as he brings his fingers to your bra. He rips it open, smirking at your soft gasp once again, Bucky should definitely find out some more ways to bring those pretty, sweet gasps out of you. The vampire brings his big hands to your chest, grasping both of your tits in his hands, massaging them with a firm but still soft grip.

Soft moans and whimpers leave your lips, his fingers pinching your nipples, causing you to arch your back and press more against Bucky. He growls, leaning his head down, gracing his teeth over the soft swell of your breast.

“B-Bucky, pl-“

“Shh, shh, told you to be quiet for me, babydoll,” he shushes, biting softly into your skin but taking care to not hurt you with his sharp teeth. His hands slide further down your body to your panties, his lips all over your chest and stomach. “Can I take them off?”

You nod, bucking your hips. He chuckles low in his throat, grasping the thin fabric of your panties and helping you out of them. His eyes immediately fall to your pussy, darkening as his tongue darts out and wets his lips.

You squirm under his intense gaze, trying to close your legs but Bucky is still between your legs, his big form keeping you spread out for him. Bucky runs one of his hands down to your folds, parting them while he runs his fingers through your wetness, cursing under his breath.

“Fucking pretty, wanna taste you, all of you, babydoll,” he mumbles, dipping two of his thick fingers into your tight cunt, groaning when he doesn’t even fit inside of you. “Look at ya, too tight to take my fingers, so fucking tight — perfect.”

He slowly presses one of his digits into you, your pussy is gripping his one finger already tight enough to not make much movements. Even though your wetness is dripping out of you, your cunt is too tight for him, especially for his cock.

You’re moaning underneath him, pressing yourself further against him but he doesn’t push his finger into you completely, just the tip of it. “B-Bucky, please, need you.”

The vampire shakes his head, his eyes roaming over your body up to your face. He smirks, removing his finger once again before pushing a bit more of it into you. After a moment of entering you more with his finger he places his thumb on your clit, causing a shriek to creep up your throat and leave your lips.

You have never felt such a sensation and Bucky’s finger working you open, curling inside of you and scratching along your tight walls plus his thumb on your clit causes the pleasure to rush through your body over and over again.

He is bringing you closer and closer to the edge, his smirk is spread across his face when he notices your legs shaking. Your breath gets heavier and he can say you’re close. The coil in your stomach feels like it’s going to snap at any second, Bucky’s finger inside of you curling over and over again, hitting your sweet spot while his thumb is pressing down on your clit.

“Come for me, babygirl. All over my fingers, make a mess, come on,” he grumbles, his eyes focused on your face to get every little scrunch of your nose, every part of your eyes and mouth when you come apart in his finger.

With your fingers digging into the sheets underneath you, your mouth falls open and your eyes shut the moment the coil inside of you snaps and your pussy clenches violently around Bucky's digit. He continues to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves until you grasp his hand and try to stop him from moving it.

“T-too much, please,” you whine. The vampire looks down at his hand, smirking at the mess you made all over his hand and the sheets. With a soft movement to not stimulate your sensitive cunt anymore he pulls out of you.

“Did so well for me, so fucking tight. Can’t even get my fingers into you without struggling, how will you manage to get my cock into your sweet cunt, darling?” He chuckles, teasing you about your tightness a bit more. “Good girl, such a good girl.”

Bucky brings his fingers to his lips, grinning at you as his tongue touches his fingers and he sucks your sweet juices off his finger. A low — almost animatic groan leaves his lips when he swallows it, you taste so fucking good and he can’t get enough. He would love to just lie down and bury his face in your pussy until you can’t take it anymore, whining and whimpering underneath him.

“Please, need you, try it, please,” you mumble, leaning up to hold on to him and pull him down with you but only then you notice he is still wearing boxer briefs. “Take ‘em off, please, Bucky.”

The brown haired chuckles, his finger slips out of his mouth with a ‘plop’. He then hooks them into the waistband of his boxers and shoves them down. Bucky’s rock hard cock springs free, the red tip is leaking pre-cum and you almost moan at the sight.

His cock is big and so thick, you’re really not sure if he fits into you. Bucky’s balls are just as big, hanging down, full with cum and ready to pump every bit of it into your pussy.

“You sure you want that, doll?” He asks, smirking when your eyes are glassy and your hands around his thick muscular biceps to make sure he won’t move away from you. You nod slightly, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer but he is too strong for you to move him closer. “Aww, doll, so impatient. Lemme grab a condom or else we'll get little bats flying around here soon.”

Your eyes widen. “Bats? You’re kidding right?”

Bucky chuckles, shaking his head. “They wouldn’t be able to turn into bats immediately but once they are older they can do that, I can too! I would show you but I’m so comfortable in between your legs right now.”

With another smirk he leans to the small drawer next to the bed, opening it. Bucky brings the condom to his mouth, ripping the package open with one of his sharp teeth. He then rolls it down his thick length and throws the package away.

“So… now you can get back to begging for me to fuck you, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your wet folds. “Come on, doll, beg for my cock.”

You roll your eyes playfully. Maybe you could just act like you’re not interested and he would push into you to show you you need him inside of you? Or maybe you do as you’re told and beg for his cock?

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, a low groan slips past his lips and he brings the tip of his cock to your entrance, pushing in slowly. “Come on, beg for my cock, sweet girl.”

“Bucky, please?” You try, whimpering as he pushes his big tip further into you. “F-fuck, please, need to feel you.”

He chuckles, moving forward, bringing his body to tower over you. You look so adorable underneath him, so small and cute, a few strands of your hair in your face. Bucky wipes them out of your face, smirking down at you before he presses his lips against yours.

The moment his soft lips move against yours he thrusts his thick dick with one smooth movement into you, causing you to gasp and bite his lips harshly. He growls, staying in place to give you a moment to adjust to his size.

“That’s what you like? Being fucked rough until you’re nothing but a whimpering and moaning mess underneath me?” He asks, rolling his hips against yours and earning a moan.

Your mouth drops open when he leans back slightly, admiring your face. You’re so perfect for him — Bucky will never let you go anymore, keeping you all for himself and protecting you from all and everything that could possibly hurt you.

After a moment and your nodding head he starts thrusting into you, soft and slow. His balls slapping against your ass and you whimper and moan by every thrust of his cock into you. His tip is kissing your cervix, over and over again — you didn’t even know this is possible since no one ever hit that spot in you before but Bucky does and it feels just so good.

Your walls clench around his pulsating length, sucking him in deeper. Bucky lets his head fall down against your shoulder, inhaling your sweet scent. An animalistic sound leaves his lips, your scent too sweet to not just slam his teeth into you and mark you as his — but he can’t, he can’t do it without your permission, without you knowing that you will be his forever.

“You smell so good,” he groans, kissing your neck. “I want to make you mine, want to claim you, babydoll.”

“Do it! Bite me, make me yours, forever, Bucky,” you whine, moving your hips against his. His breath is hot and heavy against your neck but he shakes his head. His tongue slides over your soft skin, taking in your sweet taste before he sucks at your skin, trying to get as much of you as he can without biting you.

“Can’t, doll. I can’t, you don’t know the consequences of it, I just—“ He gets interrupted when you turn your face to his neck, your fingers digging into his shoulders to hold him close. Your grin, opening your mouth to bite hard into his neck, his hips snap forward, and he moans followed by a low groan.

You giggle as he turns to face you, his eyes darkened even more, his tongue darts out and his teeth are visible. “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you? Darlin’ makin’ me go crazy with biting me? Don’t you know the consequences when you bite me?”

“I do know, but I want you to do it, please. Bucky, I want to be yours, forever. I know what it means if you bite me, but please. Bite me and cum, please,” you beg, fingers digging more into his muscular shoulders while his whole body tenses at your words.

“That’s what you want, doll? Are you sure?” He asks, trying his best to control himself but he doesn’t want to do something you haven’t thought about, he doesn’t want to force you into it.

You nod your head, earning a harsh slap on your tits. “Words, babydoll! I need you to answer me properly or else I won’t do it,” he says, smirking at your yelp.

“Please, I want you to do it. I need you to do it, I’m so close, please, Bucky,” you whine, moving with him while he brings you closer to the edge.

Bucky himself feels the coil in his stomach tightening as well. Your pussy is constantly squeezing his cock tightly, making it almost impossible for him to move inside of you.

He nods, inhaling deeply before sliding his tongue across his sharp teeth and being one of his hands to your chin, tilting your head. The brown haired man doesn’t wait any longer, he smirks and bites into your neck, his sharp teeth cutting your skin and causing blood to flow into his mouth.

Bucky hums at your sweet taste, better as everything he has ever tried. The moment your blood flows into his mouth and his teeth dig deeper into your neck you feel a sensation through your body that’s the most pleasing feeling ever.

You both come at the same time, his teeth still in your neck while his cock rams into you, twitching. Bucky’s balls slapping against your ass, a low groan in his throat when he comes in the condom. Your cunt is pulsating around him, when you come with him, moaning loudly and gripping his shoulders.

The vampire doesn’t let go of your neck until you’re both calmed down from your orgasms. He then lets go of it, swallowing thickly with still your taste in his tongue. Bucky licks over the part where he just bit you, causing the wound to heal immediately — the only sign that he bit and claimed you a scar where his teeth were deep in your neck.

“Now you’re mine, babydoll,” he smirks, slowly pulling out of you. His eyes are locked with yours when you look with lust and desire into his ocean blue ones. “Mine forever now, protect you from all and everything that could hurt or disturb you.”

“You know I’m gonna bite your neck just as hard as you bite mine,” you giggle, hands moving to his neck and pulling him down.

You press your lips against his, moaning when his cock slides through your folds once again — hard and leaking. A soft chuckle works its way up your throat when you feel it, reaching down to pull the condom off his cock and place his cock at your entrance once again.

Bucky looks at you with an raised eyebrow, asking for permission to be sure you want him to fuck you raw. “Please, but this time it’s on me to bite you and make you mine too!”

The night is filled with a lot more orgasm and you find pit that this man has a lot stamina to go a while night with fucking you through one after another orgasm. And just as you, he has your mark on his neck now as well, and he will show it to everyone like it’s a trophy — because for him it is, it’s to show everyone that he found the love of his life — the endless love.

You couldn’t be happier, Bucky is the sweetest and softest man you could have asked for, and spending eternity with him is the most perfect idea you could have dreamed of. And just as he promised he keeps you safe. Plus loved, like you’re the most adorable and precious thing he has ever had, the most important in his life — because you are exactly that for your sweet, loving Bucky.

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