#i had so much fun with this one. it took me so long

[little-jana]

"The Wrong Idea"

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: Pregnancy misunderstanding (humorous), workplace teasing

Summary: The team thinks you're pregnant... why not have a little fun with them...

a/n: I think it's kinda obvious: I'm officially in my dad!hotch era and have sooo many ideas with this theme! Do you love it as much as I do? Do you want mooooore? 🪻

Being a member of the BAU often meant everyone on the team knew too much about each other. Spending countless hours together on cases and long flights left little room for privacy. Still, you hadn’t anticipated the whirlwind of chaos that erupted the moment they thought you were pregnant.

It started innocently enough, but as the speculation snowballed, it took on a life of its own—and the last person you expected to weigh in was Aaron Hotchner.

It began one morning at work, after a particularly rough case had kept alle of you up most of the night. You were leaning against the counter in the kitchenette, pouring yourself a cup of herbal tea instead of your usual coffee.

JJ appeared beside you, eyebrows raised. “Tea? Since when do you drink tea?”

You shrugged. “Just felt like it today.”

She tilted her head, studying you. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, a little confused by her sudden concern.

“Hmm,” she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

You didn’t think much of it until later that afternoon, when Garcia cornered you at your desk.

“You know, you’ve been looking absolutely radiant lately,” she said, her tone suspiciously sweet.

You glanced up at her. “Uh… thanks?”

“I’m serious,” she said, her eyes sparkling with something that looked a lot like mischief. “There’s just this… glow about you.”

“I think you’re imagining things,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said, winking at you before flouncing off.

---

By the end of the day, the comments were piling up.

Emily handed you her snack halfway through the afternoon. “Here, you should eat this. You need to keep your strength up.”

“Why?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

She just smiled knowingly and walked away.

Even Rossi got in on the act, offering you unsolicited advice about “balancing work and family life” while Derek kept smirking at you like he knew something you didn’t.

It wasn’t until you overheard JJ and Emily whispering in the break room that you finally pieced it together.

“Do you think she’s told Hotch yet?” JJ asked.

Emily shook her head. “No way. But he has to know, right? I mean, they’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

You froze, you teacup halfway to your lips.

They thought you were pregnant.

At first, you were too stunned to say anything. But the more you thought about it, the funnier it became.

You weren’t pregnant, obviously. But the team had convinced themselves otherwise, and their attempts at subtlety were laughable at best.

You decided not to deny it outright. If they wanted to jump to conclusions, who were you to stop them? Besides, watching them tiptoe around the subject was too entertaining to pass up.

Of course, your plan backfired almost immediately...

The teasing began the next morning, when Derek caught you yawning during the morning briefing.

“Rough night?” he asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

You shot him a look. “Not any rougher than yours, Morgan.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, you should take it easy. You know, for the... baby.”

The room went silent.

You felt your face heat up as everyone turned to look at you, their expressions ranging from curious to downright amused.

“The what?” Hotch asked, his tone sharp.

Derek froze, clearly realizing he’d overstepped. “Uh… no baby. I was just joking.”

Hotch’s gaze flickered to you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “Is there something I should know?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Garcia beat you to it.

“Oh, no, sir,” she said, grinning nervously. “Everything’s fine. Totally fine.”

Hotch looked unconvinced, but he didn’t press the issue. "We'll talk later about it."

The rest of the day was a blur of teasing comments and stolen glances. By lunchtime, you were ready to tear your hair out.

Garcia kept hovering around your desk, offering me snacks and bottles of water. JJ asked if you needed help with your workload. And Emily… well, Emily just smirked at you every time you passed her in the hallway.

You did y best to ignore them, but it wasn’t easy. Especially when Hotch kept looking at you like he was trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle.

It all came to a head that evening, after we wrapped up a meeting in Hotch’s office.

You were gathering your things when he closed the door behind you, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked, his voice low.

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?”

“The team seems to think you’re… expecting,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “They’ve got some pretty wild imaginations, don’t they?”

He didn’t smile. “So, it’s not true?”

“Of course not,” you said, shaking your head. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because they won’t stop talking about it,” he said, his tone tinged with exasperation. “And you haven’t denied it.”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling a little guilty. “I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. I just… didn’t correct them.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because it was funny,” you admitted, shrugging.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible.”

You smiled, stepping closer to him. “But you love me anyway.”

He stared at you for a moment, his expression softening. “I do,” he said quietly.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“And for the record,” he added, his voice even lower, “I wouldn’t mind if it were true.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You wouldn’t?”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not at all.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, a rush of emotions swelling in your chest. “Well,” you said softly, “maybe someday.”

“Someday,” he agreed, pulling you into his arms.

---

The next morning, when Derek made another joke about baby names, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re all ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

“Ridiculously accurate,” Emily said, smirking.

You glanced at Hotch, who was standing nearby with his arms crossed. He caught your eye and gave you a small, knowing smile.

“Not this time,” you said, grinning. “But you’ll be the first to know when it is.”

The team stared at you, their mouths falling open.

And for the first time all week, you felt like you had the upper hand.

[zenithsturniolo]

⇢ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑!𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓

1k words — drug use, suggestive content, use of “angel”, lowk asshole chris

you weren’t supposed to be here this late. but then again, you weren’t supposed to care if he remembered either.

chris had texted you a few hours ago, something short and blunt— come over if u still need — and even though it was past eleven, even though you’d already gotten into your comfiest sweats and tied your hair up in that stupid clip he always made fun of, you went.

you told yourself it was for the weed. told yourself you were bored. told yourself you didn’t care.

his place is dim when you knock. smells like weed and candle wax, like old smoke clinging to the walls. that familiar haze that sticks to your clothes, to your skin, to your thoughts long after you leave.

he opens the door shirtless, low gray sweats hanging from his hips, chain resting heavy, eyes already red-rimmed and half-lidded like he’s been coasting all night.

“took you long enough,” he mutters, stepping back to let you in. no greeting, no smile. just the usual.

“wasn’t rushing,” you shrug, closing the door behind you. “figured you’d be stoned and grumpy either way.”

he scoffs, the sound lazy and mean. “and yet you still showed up. desperate.”

you roll your eyes, toeing your shoes off, ignoring the heat crawling up your neck. “maybe i just wanted to be your last client of the night.”

he glances over at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes for half a second. “that right?”

you hum, pretending to browse the stack of lighters on his counter even though you always use your own. you never actually need one from him, but the way he watches you when you do this — pretending like he doesn’t — it always feels like a quiet ritual.

“midnight’s in, like… fifteen minutes,” you say casually.

he lights a blunt, eyes flickering toward the oven clock. “so?”

you don’t answer right away. you’re used to this. his clipped voice, the cold mask he wears like armor. you’ve told yourself a hundred times not to expect more, but something in you still stings.

it’s your birthday in fifteen minutes, and even though you didn’t come for that, even though you knew he’d probably forget, some stupid part of you still hoped.

you perch on the edge of his couch, legs tucked under you, arms crossed loosely like you’re trying to stay small. “nothing,” you say. “just thought maybe you’d, i don’t know… say something.”

he exhales smoke without looking at you. “say what?”

you raise your brows, the silence stretching between you. “i don’t know. maybe something like happy birthday?”

he doesn't answer. for a second, you regret bringing it up. your throat goes tight, dumb with disappointment. he passes the blunt to you wordlessly, his face carved from shadow and apathy. you take it and inhale slowly, trying not to care. the smoke burns down your throat, settles deep in your lungs. makes it easier not to feel too much.

“figured you forgot,” you mutter.

“didn’t forget,” he says flatly.

you glance at him. he's still not looking at you, but his jaw ticks— that tiny shift he does when he's lying or pissed or both. your eyes drift toward the counter. there’s a small box there. black ribbon, no tag. definitely wasn’t there last time. your heart tugs.

“what’s that?”

“nothing.”

“looks like something.”

“don’t be annoying,” he grumbles.

you stand anyway, crossing the room to grab it. it’s heavier than you expect, neatly tied, too purposeful to be nothing. a flicker of hope twists in your chest, stubborn and stupid.

“this for me?” you ask, already knowing.

he doesn’t answer.

you peel the ribbon, open the box... and freeze.

inside is a small silver lighter. sleek, engraved, matte finish. your initials are etched into one side, and on the other… a tiny etched outline of a blunt and a halo.

you blink. it’s stupid. ridiculous. and it makes your throat close up.

“you hate birthdays,” he mutters from behind you.

you turn around slowly. “i never said that.”

“you said they’re performative. that no one ever gets it right.”

“doesn’t mean i don’t wanna feel special sometimes.”

he shrugs. “so you get a lighter. big deal.”

you let out a soft laugh, teary without meaning to. “you engraved a fucking blunt with a halo on it.”

he finally meets your gaze. red eyes, tired mouth, but there's something soft in the way he looks at you now. like he’s letting you see the part he always hides.

“suits you,” he says. “you’re a pain in the ass but you’re still kinda my angel.”

your breath catches.

“shut up,” you mumble.

he stands, takes the box from your hands, sets it gently on the table. then, without asking, he pulls you close by the waist and sits back on the couch, dragging you down with him. you land straddling his lap, knees pressed into the cushions, heart pounding like it wants to leap into his hands. he pulls the blunt from your fingers, takes a drag, then slips it between your lips. lights it with your new lighter. you hold his gaze, feel the warmth of him beneath you, anchoring you like gravity.

“you’re high,” you whisper.

“no shit.”

“and nice.”

he glares. “don’t ruin it.”

you giggle, tilting your head back as you exhale smoke. his hand slips beneath your hoodie, fingers splayed across the small of your back, steady and possessive, like he doesn’t plan on letting you go.

it’s midnight now. you don’t say it. you don’t have to. he shifts just enough to brush his mouth against your jaw. not a kiss, just enough to feel him. just enough to ache for more.

you close your eyes, and chris breathes you in.

and then, real quiet, like it physically pains him to say it, “happy fuckin’ birthday,” he mutters into your hair, blunt still burning in his hand.

“now shut up and stay right there.”

a/n: thank you @chloe444 for the request! this was supposed to be out yesterday n i’m sorry for the delay love, but I hope you like it. I hope you had the best birthday ever ilysm :)) also... thinking of making a dealer!chris au. got some ideas 🤷

+ find more dealer!chris here + find my entire masterlist here

🏷: @drewswife @k4urltzx @courta13 @briizysturn @y2kstarr @adorechris @dolliraez @rriverscuomo @sturnsblogs @mattspillowprincess @mattsplaything @sturns-mermaid @auttysturnz @sonnyangelsweetiee @izzylovesmatt @ribbonlovergirl @matts-girlfriend @pair-of-pantaloons @444sturns @weron1ka @grrrrcherries  @matts-wife @thicknick19 @slvtf0rchr1s @devotedlyteenagemusic @adoremattsturns @slut4chrisloads @cayleeuhithinknott @lyingbymalcom @sturniolo1trips @chrissbxby @alexisa78 @ariheartsmatt @slutformatt17 @chestersturn @kenziesturniolo54 @malsmind @chrismoans @sophsturns @surprisecurlyfriess @sturnslutz @passionfruitchris

© zenithsturniolo

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“I have to admit, I am a little bit jealous,” the villain said. They grabbed the hero’s jaw gently and got closer. “You’re breaking my heart here.”

They pressed their thumb against the hero’s bottom lip and let their eyes drop. The hero’s back bumped against the wall.

“Aren’t you such a sunshine?” the hero mumbled. In response, the villain could only scoff. They were certain they disliked the hero, loathed them even.

Someone talented, someone loved, someone this pure…obviously that was enough to conjure some hate. But for some reason, there was more to it than mere disdain.

“You do know that I have to take care of other enemies, right?” the hero said. “Admittedly, they’re not as fun as you are but orders are orders, hm?”

They tilted their head and grinned as so often, provoking the villain.

“Just say you missed me,” the hero said.

“You’re easy lunch, so yeah. I missed you.”

“Tsk-tsk, don’t think I’ll let you devour me that easily.” They stared at each other and with one hand on the hero’s face, the other twisting the fabric of their suit, the villain realised how close they were.

That annoying hero with their tactics and plans and physical capability. That annoying hero with their popularity and fame.

“Do you want me to ask nicely or what?” the villain asked. They couldn’t take their eyes off the hero’s lips. It was true that they were agitated, that they wanted to be the one fighting with the hero, but…

Wasn’t this a little childish?

The villain let their thumb follow the hero’s bottom lip again, subconsciously this time. They were warm. The hero was really warm, heating up the villain’s icy fingers.

Their relationship was purely competitive. The villain had to work twice as hard to reach their own goals. With the hero’s cursed brilliance, the villain was the one to make sure they weren’t falling behind.

And they hated that about the hero, they truly did…and yet…

They leaned over even more until they felt the hero’s breath against their cheek. They watched the hero close their eyes and the villain’s hand slid down over the hero’s throat.

More importantly, the hero let them. They weren’t pushing them away.

What on earth were they doing?

The villain hesitated long enough for the hero to open their eyes. Their enemy let out an annoyed sigh and rolled their eyes.

“Can’t even kiss me,” they muttered under their breath. “You’re such a loser.”

The villain’s eyes widened, but they didn’t have time to process what was happening — the hero pulled them in and finally kissed them.

It wasn’t particularly gentle or sweet, it truly fitted “devour” more than anything. The villain could feel their heart punch against their ribcage repeatedly when the hero’s tongue suddenly ended up in their mouth.

Of course, they had thought about it before. Of course, they had imagined it before. After all, they were spending a lot of time with the hero, they had a few things in common and they had been flirting with each other for months.

Despite the threats, the arrests, some betrayal and the blood, their relationship was maybe, possibly, eventually pretty profound. The hero was admirable, they were everything the villain wanted but never could be.

“Oh god,” the villain sighed as they gasped for air. The hero was just as much out of breath. They took in gulps of air greedily, their face was red.

They looked good. They looked so very good.

The villain’s hands were shaking.

“One more,” the hero demanded. The villain stared at them, nodding, but once again, the hero was too quick. They pulled them close and kissed them even harder.

The villain couldn’t think of anything in that moment. They couldn’t concentrate, they could only feel.

Feel how their frustration vanished, how their excitement rose, how relieved they were.

They could feel how they relaxed gradually. The hero was greedy, just like they were. They were mean, they could be harsh.

But they were also terribly warm and comforting.

And still, the villain couldn’t help but feel like they were competing against each other again. As if they were trying to find out who was the better kisser.

They pulled away again — too soon for the villain’s liking — and anew, they stared at each other. It felt like there was no need for the villain to be jealous of anyone. The hero was right here, right in front of them.

“Not a word of this to—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” the villain said. “One more.”

“One more,” the hero agreed.

And it was definitely not the last kiss they shared.

[salty-autistic-writer]

Buck always loves how much fun sex with Tommy is.

They tend to be a bit clumsy while they're horny, which leads to unplanned mishaps and a lot of laughter.

One time, they fell off the bed together while making out. Buck, reaching out for something to hold on to in vain, managed to grab the blanket and pull it with him. They lay on the floor, groaning, with Buck's long limbs sprawled all over Tommy, and the blanket over their heads. Tommy started to giggle and ended up laughing so much that he got a hiccup. That made Buck laugh until his stomach started to hurt. It took them a while to disentangle and get back to it.

Another time, Buck slipped out so often, he started to curse his dick, which made Tommy laugh hysterically. He infected Buck with it. Once they were done laughing, Tommy said, still gasping for air and gesturing at Buck's flagging erection, "I think it's sulking now, Evan. You were being too mean." "Stop," Buck groaned, holding his stomach. "I can't laugh more. It hurts." "Conditions are slippery today. Let me help you," Tommy said with a chuckle and got up on his knees, stroking Buck back to full hardness and then guiding him back inside, making them both moan.

Sex in the shower sounded nice. Until they got from kissing and making out to the question of how they would be able to actually fuck in the tiny shower cubicle. A lot of "move this way, no, wait, like this, no, it's not working, damnit, can you just ... maybe bend this way, oh fuck, why is it so tiny!" led to another hysterical laughing fit. "Guess we should take this to the bedroom after all," Tommy gasped, shaking his head, his lips twitching. "I would blow you, but I think my knees wouldn't be on board. God. I feel so old now."

On a free day, when they had marathon sex in every sense of that word, Tommy lay passed out on his stomach, arms stretched out to the sides, making him look like a starfish, with Buck beside him feeling just as sated and exhausted. Suddenly, a beep broke the silence, and Buck's fitness watch, which he didn't take off after a workout, announced proudly: "Fitness goal achieved!" Tommy slowly turned his head, blinked up at Buck, and then burst into laughter, with Buck joining him.

Sex with Tommy was fun. Always.

(AO3 Link)

[piastrisun]

what’s a soft launch?

pairings: franco colapinto + actress female reader.

summary: childhood friends, slowburn or… maybe just an slowburn for everyone else except for you two.

faceclaim: lucia ferrato.⠀warning: none.

notes: somehow a bonus part from my one shot ‘the grand reveal’. i had a lot of fun making this. also, in honour of franco’s first race of the year!!

2021.

liked by username, yourbrother and others

francolapinto happy birthday to the only person who could annoy me this much and still be my favourite. sos insoportable, pero te amo igual

⠀—⠀ you’re insufferable and i love you anyway

tagged yourusername

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username2 every post is a confession and they just pretend it’s jokes

yourusername you love my chaos. admit it ‼️

francolapinto vos sos mi caos

⠀—⠀ you’re my chaos

yourusername re cursi, boludo. but thanks. i love you more than i hate mornings ♥︎ liked by author

username3 this is better than any romcom

username4 “my favourite” has me in actual tears

username5 if my best friend doesn’t post like this on my birthday i’m deleting them

username6 the way she looks at him 😭😭😭

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

2022.

liked by francolapinto, username and others

yourusername happy bday to the kid who made everything louder. you never shut up and i’d pick you every time. sos todo lo que está bien, te amo

⠀—⠀you’re everything that’s right in the world, i love you

tagged francolapinto

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yourusername i took that picture yesterday btw

username4 LMAOOOO this is killing me 😭😭

francolapinto you forgot ‘you’re ridiculously good looking’ but ok

yourusername cállate ❤️

francolapinto sos terrible te amo ♥︎ liked by author

⠀—⠀ you’re terrible i love you

username they’ve been married since 2013 i swear

username2 BABY FRANCO 🥹🥹

username3 girl just confess ur love we’re tired

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

2023.

liked by yourusername, username and others

francolapinto she did the thing. i did the crying. i regret nothing!! qué suerte la mía to estar cerca de tu luz, mi estrella de cine

⠀—⠀so lucky to be near your light, my movie star

tagged yourusername

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username why are they more romantic than actual couples

yourusername you said you had something in your eye

francolapinto lágrimas, boluda

⠀—⠀ tears, you idiot

username2 ‘qué suerte la mía’ shut UPPP i’m sobbing

yourmother ❤️❤️

francolapinto la extraño

yourmother Te extrañamos todos, Franquito!!!

username3 this is so cute 🥹

username4 he’s so in love it hurts. MY chest hurts

username5 they’re friends wtf

username4 TO YOU 🫵🫵🫵

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

francolapinto and yourusername added their stories!

replies to your story:

gabrielbortoleto_ you’re gonna make people talk

yourusername maybe they’ll finally tell him to wear another hoodie

username9 ‘mi bb’ i’m on the floor

username8 this is worse than a kiss on the lips istg

username7 my personal romcom

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

liked by stormreid, username and others

yourusername his view vs my view??? (i win)

tagged francolapinto

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username this is a hard launch in my mind

sydney_sweeney most beautiful girl

username2 … and he’s there

username3 “my view” so casually. like that’s not her man??? okay

francolapinto IT WAS THE JET LAG

yourusername LIARRRRRR

francolapinto slander!!! i look peaceful

yourusername feo más bien

⠀—⠀ more like ugly

username4 you’re the most gorgeous woman ever hello

username5 when you go to a pretty best friends competition but franco and yn are already there

yourusername yn AND franco

username5 you’re right sorry 😔 ♥︎ liked by author

username6 ‘i win’ as in you look more pretty or as in you win by having him as your view

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

READ ONE SHOT HERE.

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

liked by lukebrowningracing, username and others

francolapinto we didn’t keep it a secret this long for nothing. but now you know, she has a ring to prove it!! yn, siempre he sido tuyo. te amo

⠀—⠀ i was always yours. i love you.

tagged yourusername

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username screaming crying throwing up sobbing violently shaking

username2 I KNEW IT I WAS RIGHT

username3 we all knew it you’re NAWT special

francolapinto yeah true

username4 HOW LONG WERE YOU GOING TO KEEP THIS FROM US?!!

yourusername thank you for being my best friend first!! te elijo a vos siempre <3

⠀—⠀ i chose you forever

francolapinto mi persona 🤍

username he always calls her that i can’t take it anymore 😭😭😭

username7 going for engagement reveal instead of dating reveal first is CRAZY

f1 young love 💙

username8 why am i still freaking out about this 😭

username9 the REAL twist is that they were basically dating this whole time, and no one noticed

lando congrats mate! ♥︎ liked by author

username0 just fell at my knees again

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

YOUR CHATS: FRANCO COLAPINTO.

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 25’.

[cobbled-peach]

˗ˏˋ જ⁀➴ acts of non-affection

when a late-night case load threatens to derail your plans, Spencer steps in with a "strictly practical" offer

cw: sunshine!fem!reader x post-prison spencer. reader talks about wearing makeup. not much else to say, just though this was a fun dynamic. a/n: when I was writing this, I had sort of an age-gap in mind, but that doesn’t really translate. So maybe I’ll give these babies another lil story at some point and develop on that. this was just a fun, small story while I work on something bigger and get through some requests !!! w/c: 2k

Friday nights at the BAU were always a gamble.

Sometimes the team made it out before nightfall. Sometimes not at all. Tonight fell somewhere in the middle: a limbo of sorts, where the bullpen was half-empty and the overhead fluorescent lights hummed like they were ready to call it quits too. The hallway murmured with agents’ quiet goodbyes, blinds rattling softly as they were drawn shut one by one.

It had been a long week. Grueling. Not just in hours, but in weight. It was heavy; the sort of case that lodged itself deep inside and refused to be shaken loose. The aftershocks still lingered in the air – metaphorically, emotionally, and painfully literal in the form of a mountain of paperwork.

You were still at your desk. Sleeves rolled to the elbow, jacket thrown over the back of your chair. You’d wanted to look like the picture of dedication; an agent hammering through work with unwavering professionalism.

The truth? The thought of spending another few hours alone with this pile of files was enough to make you consider crying into your keyboard. Seriously. Your soul was actually aching.

It was a losing battle, and you were painfully aware of it. But hope had always been your favorite bad habit.

You stared at the stack with a sigh that originated from deep in your chest. There was no way you’d finish this and still make it to your dinner plans. And you’d really been looking forward to this one. A date – something finally outside the BAU. Easy. Normal. Just dinner. You’d picked out your outfit four days ago, perfume already set out and waiting. You’d even memorized the menu like it was part of your prep for a case.

But you weren’t one to leave work unfinished.

Especially not now. Not with the team running on fumes. There had been a quiet tension all week. Too-tight smiles. Long, exhausted looks. Even your usual optimism – "relentless," as Garcia once called it (which was saying something, coming from her) – could only stretch so far before starting to feel tone-deaf. You didn’t want to be the agent who slacked behind when everyone was struggling.

So, with a barely concealed disappointed sigh, you pulled out your phone and started typing. Another cancellation. Another “rain check?” Not the first, and definitely not the last. You hated how practiced you’d gotten at writing them. Someday, someone would look over your romantic history as a trail of sweet apologies and slowly vanishing matches. You’d lost count of the number of times you’d let potential soulmates slip away because federal work took precedence.

‘Big night?’

The familiar voice came from behind, breaking the silence.

You turned, finding Luke Alvez leaning against his desk, arms crossed. The tilt of his head suggested he already knew the answer.

‘Was supposed to be,’ you said with a wry grin. ‘Dinner plans. With an actual human. Real food, no blood spatter analysis. I was even going to wear lipstick.’

‘Must be a special guy if you’re willing to step out of the realm of FBI professionalism,’ he teased, light, but slightly strained with exhaustion.

‘I was feeling bold,’ you said with a playful shrug. ‘But alas, my hot date with bureaucratic despair wins again.’

‘Wait—this wasn’t the date with moustache guy, right?’ (You’d only offered a vague description. Garcia had given him the nickname). ‘The one who was going to take you to the Italian where they handmake the pasta in front of you?’

‘Don’t remind me,’ you said with a small groan. ‘He was literally taking me to carbohydrate heaven. I was emotionally invested.’

‘You might still make it,’ he offered, half-hopeful. He already knew the chances were unlikely. ‘Leave a few papers for tomorrow. No one will chase you down over it.’

A hesitation on your end. A tiny flicker of temptation in your chest.

But then you shook your head. ‘If I leave this many, I’ll end up rushing to get it done tomorrow. And if I rush, I’ll miss something. And then Emily will hit me with that look.’

Luke winced in sympathy. ‘The lip-press. Brutal.’

‘Exactly. So, tragically, ravioli and wine will have to wait. Paperwork is calling.’

Luke gave you a mock salute. ‘You’re stronger than me,’ he said, and you smiled more genuinely this time. ‘If I was you, I’d already be halfway to the wine and pasta.’

‘I’ll live vicariously through your freedom, then,’ you responded brightly, despite the fact your heart was sinking just a little.

As he turned to leave, you settled back into your chair, noticing the subtle hint of movement from a few desks down.

Spencer Reid.

He’d always been… bristly, for lack of a better word. Distant. Curt. Formal to a fault. It wasn’t like you’d expected warm hugs, but you hadn’t anticipated an emotional barbed wire to surround him.

He looked up from behind the shield of a computer screen, eyes flicking towards you. Just for a moment, not enough to count. Barely even a tilt of his head. He didn’t speak, but that was to be expected. He never spoke with you.

There was a strange stillness. Quiet and calculating. The pause was too long to be accidental. Like he was deciding something.

He looked away as you pushed from your desk to grab a cup of coffee – a humble ally to your late-night paperwork, something to hopefully bribe your willpower into working and getting things done.

Three minutes in the kitchenette. Water boiled. Mug filled. And then you were returning to your desk.

Except it wasn’t empty.

He was at your desk.

Spencer was at your desk.

And thumbing through your files, no less.

Your first thought was that in the two minutes it had taken for the water to boil, reality had somehow shifted and you were now in an alternate dimension. Or maybe he’d been body-snatched.

Either way, you froze mid-step. A moment of total suspension, where you blinked hard and tried to reset the scene.

But no, he remained. Dividing your files into two neat piles with a furrowed brow. Categorizing with some unknown, internal metric. Scruitinizing.

You’d never moved across the bullpen so fast, all but sprinting, skidding to a halt beside your desk and setting the thoroughly-sloshed coffee down.

‘Whoa, whoa—Reid. What are you doing?’ Breathless. Inconclusive if it was from the sprint across the room, or the panic of seeing him look through your work.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look up.

‘Dividing them,’ he responded curtly.

‘Yeah, I can see that. Why?’

‘You told Luke you wouldn’t be able to finish them all.’

‘Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you’re here.’

‘I’m taking some.’

‘Huh?’ You stared at him. Blinked once. Twice. Definitely body-snatched. ‘You’re doing what now?’

‘Half,’ he said plainly, pulling the heavier stack of paperwork towards himself.

‘Okay, what?’ You laughed. Incredulous. Bewildered. Your eyes widened a little in confusion. ‘Are you sick or something? Should I be checking for a fever?’

He gave you a deadpan look, and you raised your hands in defense.

‘Kidding,’ you said. A beat of silence. ‘You’re seriously taking half?’

‘I can finish it tonight,’ he responded with a nod.

You let out another disbelieving laugh. ‘You do remember you have your own paperwork, right? You can’t take it all on. Surely you know some statistics about burnout, or something.’

‘I've accounted for them.’

Another pause, eyes still wide and confused. You attempted a different tactic. ‘You don’t have to rescue me.’

‘I’m not.’

More silence. You stared at him, trying to understand what was happening, what had shifted. This was the same man who barely spoke to you unless it was case-related. Who responded to your warmth with indifference.

And now he was… helping?

You gawked at him. ‘Are you sure I shouldn’t be checking you for a fever?’

The look he gave you this time was withering.

‘Because this is very un-Dr. Reid of you,’ you continued. ‘Like… I would not be surprised if you had been replaced by an android while I was making coffee.’

Nothing. Not a smirk. Not a twitch.

Tone-deaf joke, or just an emotionally closed off Reid? Maybe a mix of both.

You sighed. ‘I didn’t ask you to do this.’

‘I never said that you did.’

‘And you’re sure this isn’t going to make you burn out or implode or whatever?’

‘I won’t implode.’

You stared at him. Hard. ‘And you’re sure you’re not an android?’

He ignored that. As was to be expected.

Spencer turned to walk back to his desk, but something about the exchange was nagging at you. The abruptness of it, perhaps? Your mouth opened, then closed again, reminiscent of a fish. He was halfway to is desk when you called, following behind, ‘Reid, wait—’

He paused. Barely. Turned halfway with a clenched jaw.

‘—why are you really doing this?’

He ran his tongue across his top teeth, jaw ticking slightly as he glanced down at your files, then back to you and your now crossed arms.

‘You were visibly upset,’ he said finally, tone clipped. ‘That affects accuracy. A 2.8 second emotional distraction can double the likelihood of error. This is a practical solution to your… date crisis.’

The way he said those words was indecipherable. Annoying, because you were meant to be a profiler who could read micro-expressions, but he was giving nothing away. As usual.

You studied him. ‘So… damage control? Over paperwork I haven’t even started yet?’

‘Exactly.’

You raised a brow next. ‘Not because you wanted me to have a nice night?’

‘I don’t care if you have a nice evening or not,’ he responded, mechanical and flat. ‘I care about correctly filled in paperwork.’

You placed a hand over your heart, clutching it in mock betrayal. ‘Ouch. That’s seriously cold. Ruthless, even. I’m sort of devastated.’

He simply turned and walked away.

You watched him sit, pull your files closer, an start working in the meticulous way that was so Spencer Reid. Like this wasn’t strange at all. He was doing something nice. Not kind, or warm, but helpful. In a repressed and reluctant sort of way.

There was something mildly captivating about watching him work, too. He’d get into the zone with unwavering, clinical concentration that you were a little envious of. Only a little, though.

You slipped your jacket over your arms, firing a quick text to ‘Mustache’ that let him know you were actually okay for the date. He responded quickly, plans back on and in place. A much needed reprieve from the monotony of paperwork and the chaos of murderers.

You were set to go, until a thought struck. You glanced at the undrunk coffee on your desk. Still hot. Still steaming. You picked it up and walked over to him, setting it down on his desk which earned an almost horrified look.

‘I’m not going to drink it,’ you explained. ‘You can have it, if you want.’

‘I’m not touching your mug,’ he said, visibly uncomfortable. You saw his fingers twitching in distaste at the thought.

‘Germs?’ you guessed, familiar with his somewhat eclectic ways. ‘Fair enough. I can pour it into your own mug?’

‘Please—don’t.’

You smiled sheepishly. ‘I just feel like I owe you.’

‘You don’t. I’m not doing it as a favor, and I’m not doing it for you. It’s a practical solution, like I said before.’

‘Still, thanks,’ you said, softening your voice. That had him pausing mid-sentence for half a second, before he returned to writing. ‘Even if you’re not doing it for me.’

He said nothing, and you took that as the end of the conversation. Turned and walked to the elevator. In your hand, your phone was buzzing with “Mustache’s” messages; what time he’d be coming to pick you up and how he was really excited you were doing this.

You hummed thoughtfully. Spared a final glance through the glass doors into the bullpen where Spencer was seated at your desk. Knee-deep in your files, illuminated by a slightly yellow-hued lamp on his desk.

He didn’t look up. But you smiled at him anyway.

taglist: @curatedbylucy @cynbx @internallysalad @jeuj @redorquid @thoughtwriter @whitenoisewhatanawfulsound @written-in-the-stars06 please feel free to comment to be added to the taglist, or go to this post here :)

[contract-crawdad]

Look Outside Pacifism Concepts: Part 3

It's time for the taxidermy menagerie!

Little Helpers (Wirecutter, Needles, and Scissors)

During battle, tossing any kind of animal product to one of Taxidermy’s little helpers will cause them to snatch it up in delight, immediately ending combat. This includes obvious things like hamburger or raw pork but also extends to anything made out of leather or wool.

It seems hard at work performing taxidermy on your gift, working its viciously sharp parts in a blur of determined motion. If it notices your continued presence, it gives no indication.

Giving all of them an offering and then returning on day 14 will show the results of their work: a vaguely humanoid taxidermy figure made entirely out of the cobbled together bits you gave them.

Crow

Using pretty much any healing food in Crow’s room will cause the birds to be whipped up into a frenzy once you start the battle.

“Ah for da love a- look whatcha did! With your gotdamn snacks! Ya got em all woiked up… ahhh fuggetaboutit. Dey don’t fight woith a crap when dey’re like dis.”

You can either continue to fight Crow, who will have a heavy accuracy debuff for the rest of the battle or flee from the fight with a guaranteed success rate. At which point, Crow will not re-engage and can be spoken to.

“Dis handsome mug o’ mine? It’s all thanks to da boss! He’s great. On da one hand, he did murderize me, and I gotta say dat dat wasn’t fun. But on da otha hand, he patched me up afterwoids. Even gave me all dese boids for free. Dat’s da boss for ya… all considerate-like!”

Crow will then peacefully wander the room and is willing to trade you a Bundle of Feathers in exchange for food items to appease his birds (can only be done once per day).

Bundle of Feathers: a clump of molted bird parts. The wings still flap and the beaks still open and close. Can be used in battle to draw an enemy's attack but is too flimsy to stand up to more than one instance of damage. Inflicts disease on the enemy that breaks it.

Crocodile

If you begin the battle with Joel in your party, Crocodile will exclaim:

“Hey, little guy, the one with the teeth! Can I borrow some? Just a few molars.”

Using any of Joel's offensive teeth skills at this this point immediately ends the combat. Croc wanders about the room aimlessly and can be spoken to.

“Thanks pal. You’re a lifesaver, my reptile side loses teeth faster than I can grow them back. I’ll have my roomie stitch these onto me later. He's not a bad guy, really. Just devoted to his craft, you know?”

He then gives you an IOU note. It serves no purpose.

Limbs

If you’re missing either arm when you fight Limbs, the combat music quickly dies down and goes silent before either party can attack.

“…Oh! My mistake, it looks like dad already took the parts he wanted from you, so... ah... I guess we're cool? I’m, uhhh, not really used to having guests… want some gum? I’ve got gum.”

If you respond with ‘yes’, they will give you one stick of gum for each member of your party, causing combat to end.

“Don’t tell the others, it’d make me feel so weird if they knew, but… I don’t think I was ever a person. I’m just the spare parts dad had laying around, you know? Ah, that’s better. I had to tell somebody, just to get it off chest…s.”

Tiger

It seems the tiger is the one in control. Literally just a confused and scared animal that will not pursue you so long as you don’t get within two tile’s worth of distance and don't smell too badly.

Taxidermy

If you equip a single character with EVERY piece of the ‘leather’ set, instead of roaming hostilely, Taxidermy will be stationary and blocking the exit when you attempt to leave.

“Could it be…? Could you be another connoisseur of the leather arts? You recognize quality craftsmanship. You wear it well.”

At this point, they will allow you to ask a few questions.

> Who did you used to be?

"An amateur. A blind pedant. An insect, unaware of even my own ignorance."

> What did you do to all these people?

"Yes! Yes!! That is exactly the question I wany my work to awaken within the observer! Oh, that is very validating to hear. Thank you."

> Can I help you or them in any way?

"An artist wants for naught but two things: recognition, and... materials."

> ...Are you going to make me into 'art' too?

"Excited by the possibility, eh? I must admit, I'm thinking about it."

Once you attempt to say goodbye, Taxidermy cuts you off. There’s only one way to really tell whether you're a fan or just a thief: a quiz, of course! About their various creations.

Each question has one correct answer accompanied by two wrong answers, as well as one blatantly incorrect and very rude answer. The exception is the final question, which has no wrong answer (aside from 'Your mother.').

“What did you use to unlock my private display? I hope you appreciated the detail work; it took hours stitching actual hairs into the scalp, and even longer to find a brain that fit inside…”

> A jar.

> A taxidermy dog.

> A beautiful recreation of a human head.

> A cheap Halloween decoration.

“Which creation lacks a brain? I was as surprised as they were when they came to life.”

> Limbs

> Crocodile

> Crow

> You

“How many eyes does Crocodile have? Surely you counted each masterfully preserved eyeball.”

> One

> Three

> None

> Those were supposed to be eyes?

“How many beautiful animals decorate my foyer? minus, of course, the ones you took.”

> Seven

> Two

> (Correct answer, varies)

> Just one, and that's only if you count me.

“…Which of my creations is your favorite?”

> Crow

> Crocodile

> Limbs

> Tiger

> Your mother.

Answering incorrectly twice chases Taxidermy to fight you as normal. But choosing the purposely rude option even once causes them to immediately attack you out of fury. They’re crying, enraged, and blinded for the first three turns of combat. Additionally, they're backed up by two random creations.

Answering correctly at least three times causes Taxidermy to relent.

“As certain as I am that you would make a superb pair of jeans, it would not be right to turn my biggest fan into art.”

They will then move aside, freeing up the exit and offering to create an 'even better' version of any non-leather piece of leather gear... but only one, and it takes an entire day to complete. The resulting equipment has +5 defense, +5 ballistic defense, and +5% bonus to max HP on top of its original stats.

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

And that concludes the residents of apartment 30! I wanted to get to the frozen folks in apartment 34 in this post as well, but things just went too long, both lengthwise and timewise! They'll be the next one, and they're even mostly finished (I swear)!

Part 1

Part 2

[astralsoulacewof]

FanWing Fest was honestly one of the best weekends of my life. If you told me 10 years ago when I first read Wings of Fire that I would someday be meeting Tui wearing a Peril fursuit that I had made myself, I probably would've passed out from excitement. Getting to wear her to this event was one of the best things I've ever done. I loved every single picture I got with people, and every thing I was given. I loved seeing how excited people were to see me. I am very grateful I was able to go and brighten people's days and spread some much needed joy in the world. That's one of the biggest things I want to do in this fandom and in general: make people happy.

Thank you to everyone who stopped me to get photos (Please tag me, I love seeing the pics people get with me!), took videos, talked to me, and told me I inspired them. Hearing that I have inspired people, and seeing the things I have inspired people to create will always make my day. We always need more Wings of Fire fursuits and cosplays, and I am happy I was able to contribute to that.

One of my favorite parts of this weekend was getting to finally meet and hang out with some online friends I've met through the fandom. It was such a fun time, and I am so sad it's over. At the same time, I am so so glad and appreciative that through this fandom I was able to make friends who I cherish dearly. I would not be where I am without them, and I am so glad I got to spend that time with them.

It felt so surreal to hear Mike Holmes say that I was his favorite fan interaction (I am going to be rewatching that clip for a long time lmao). Getting to walk up to Tui in my Peril fursuit, my most prized possession, and hear her say she thinks it's amazing and even signing it was incredible. I was so grateful I was able to talk to her and tell her thank you for making Peril, because I would not be where I am right now without her. I've never seen a character I loved and related to so much. This character and this series has genuinely changed my life and I will forever be grateful

(RainWing is Kat2Nite, head made by me!)

[keithyp00]

✯¸.•´*¨`*• Earth Angel (Would You Be Mine?) •*`¨*`•.¸✯

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: romance, fluff, a dash of melancholy, implied intimacy, nudity, emotional vulnerability, mentions of trauma, comfort, domestic!Bucky, established relationship, lazy-mornings

Song Inspiration: Earth Angel by The Penguins (cover done by Connie Francis)

Word Count: 2.4K

Author Note: Hi guys! I know my posting schedule kinda got messed for for the weekend but I'm back to normal! I hope you guys enjoy this one, and it was my first ever request from @glorpalicious, so thank you so much! And I have another fun one coming tomorrow!

Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!

You heard the music long before you saw him.

The soft static of vinyl filled the cabin, smooth and laced with nostalgia. The kind of song that felt like lace curtains and sunlit rooms. Earth Angel crooned through the wooden walls, fragile and pleading. You paused on the porch, snow clinging to your coat. A curious smile played on your lips as you cracked open the door and stepped into what felt like a memory.

There he was, standing in the center of the room like he's stepped straight out of the 1940s.

Bucky Barnes.

Your James 'Bucky' Barnes.

He didn't hear you at first, too lost in the sound of that haunting melody. His metal fingers twitched slightly in time with the rhythm, his human hand curled around a glass of water that had long since lost its purpose.

His hair was tucked behind his ears, and he was dressed in a simple henley and jeans- nothing fancy, but the look still stole your breath. He turned just as the chorus hit again.

"Earth angel, earth angel... please be mine..."

"Didn't know you had a thing for Connie Francis," you teased softly, stepping further inside. Snow melted from your boots, leaving tiny puddles on the hardwood.

Bucky gave you a crooked grin. "I've got a thing for good voices. And better memories."

The record spun lazily, needle scratching like it was holding onto every last note.

You walked to him slowly, drawn like gravity. His blue eyes met yours, and in them, you saw winter's hush and decades of longing. He took a careful step forward.

"I used to listen to this at Steve's place," he said, voice low and wistful. "Back before everything... when I was still remembering who I was. It felt like... I dunno. Like something soft was still in the world.

You reached out and took the glass from his hand, setting it on the table nearby.

"There is," you whispered. "You are."

That seemed to knock the wind out of him. Bucky looked at you like you were made of moonlight and old dreams- like a slow dance he never thought he'd get to finish. And then- just like that- he held out his hand.

You blinked.

"Dance with me?"

The question floated between you like snowfall. It wasn't a request made out of confidence- it was hope. Raw, trembling hope.

"I thought you'd never ask."

You placed your hand in his and stepped into his arms as if you belonged there. As if you always had.

Bucky pulled you in gently, like you were breakable, but you pressed close until there was no space left for ghosts between you. His left hand rested at your waist, fingers cool but reverent. The right held yours in an old-fashioned grip- classic and honest.

Outside, snow painted the world in quiet white. Inside, you were warmth and candlelight.

You swayed in slow circles, your head tucked under his chin, his breath feathering across your temple. The record kept spinning, playing on into the chorus again:

"My darling dear, love you all the time..."

You let out a shaky breath. "You know," you murmured, "when I was younger, I used to imagine slow dancing in a kitchen with someone I loved. No ballrooms. No flash. Just... this."

Bucky chuckled, deep and warm. "The kitchen's next door. We can take this tour if you want."

You laughed, and it sounded like home. "I'm serious," you said, quieter now. "I never cared about big things. Just wanted someone who saw me. Loved me. Held me like this."

Bucky tightened his arms slightly. "I see you," he murmured. "God, I see you."

You looked up at him, and your breath caught. He looked at you like he might memorize every detail, every blink and breath. Like you were the only constant in a world that kept rewriting itself.

"I never thought I'd be allowed to want anything like this."

"you're allowed," you said fiercely. "You deserve every second."

His jaw twitched like he was trying not to cry.

"I love you," you said. Not whispered. Not uncertain. Just true.

Bucky stopped moving. His lips parted slightly, blue eyes wide.

Then he pulled you in and kissed you like his soul had been waiting since 1943. It was slow. It was reverent. It was everything.

When he pulled back, his hands cradled your face. "Say it again."

You smiled and nuzzled into his palm. "I love you."

HIs voice cracked when he said it back. "I love you too. I think I've loved you since you brought me coffee without asking how I take it."

You grinned. "Lucky guess."

He swayed you again, to a song long finished, still playing in the background of your hearts.

"I don't want this to end," Bucky murmured.

"It won't," you promised. "As long as we keep dancing."

Later, you made cocoa and danced barefoot in the kitchen with a crackling fire nearby. Bucky hummed the melody while you stood on his feet like a 50s movie. You spilled cocoa and laughed until your sides hurt.

~~~~~

The cocoa mugs sat abandoned on the counter, half-finished and forgotten.

You'd danced again- slower this time, to no music. Just the rhythm of his heart, the sound of snow hushing the outside world, and the occasional creak of the old wooden floor beneath your feet. Bucky was quieter now, not because he had nothing to say, but because his heart was too full. Words felt fragile. Clumsy.

So he let his hands do the talking- thumb brushing over your cheekbone, arms tightening around your waist every time you shifted slightly closer. You didn't need much space between you to begin with, but he seemed desperate to erase even that.

Eventually, the fire burned down to glowing embers, and the warmth of the room changed. Not colder. But more still. More private.

Bucky nudged his forehead against yours. "Come to bed with me?"

You didn't answer. Just nodded.

He led you to the bedroom with the same gentle care he gave everything- every movement weighted with intention. The room was dim, lit only by the golden spill of the hallway light and the soft glint of snowfall outside. It was quiet in that sacred kind of way. You could hear his breathing. His heartbeat.

You could feel how much this meant to him.

You stood in front of him and lifted your hands slowly, wordlessly asking for permission. Bucky swallowed hard and nodded. You peeled the henley from his body carefully, revealing familiar skin- scarred, warm, soft in some places, vibranium in others.

Your hands never trembled.

You pressed a feather-light kiss to his chest, right above his heart. "Still here."

His breath hitched. "Still yours."

He reached for you next, almost reverently, lifting your shirt and skimming his fingers over your ribs as if he was mapping out constellations. Every touch was slow, thoughtful. He helped you out of your clothes like he was undoing armor, not fabric. And you let him, because this wasn't about sex- not really. It was about trust, Intimacy in the truest sense.

You lay down together beneath thick blankets, bare in body but even more so in emotion. He curled around you protectively, flesh arm across your stomach, metal hand tracing light circles on your collarbone.

You turned toward him and kissed his jaw, the corner of his mouth, the tip of his nose. You took your time. So did he. And when you finally kissed him full and deep again, it was slower than any waltz you'd ever danced.

"Can I ask you something?" You whispered, lips brushing his.

His eyes fluttered open. "Anything."

"What was it like?" Your fingers ghosted the inside of his wrist. "Waking up in a new world?"

He was quiet for a long time. You were about to apologize- say that he didn't have to talk about it- when he finally spoke.

"It was cold," he started. "Loud. Everyone moved so fast. No one looked at each other. Everything smelled like metal and gas. And I didn't know who I was. Just that people looked at me like I was a weapon."

You touched his cheek, grounding him.

"But when I met Steve again... it was like remembering a dream I didn't think was real. And then you..."

He looked at you like a lighthouse, steady and glowing. "You made it feel like home again."

Your throat tightened. "Bucky..."

"I think I was waiting for you. Even before I knew you."

The tears didn't fall, not then. But they built behind your lashes. "You know I never saw you as a weapon, right?"

"I do now," he said. "It just took time." He ran his fingers along your hairline. "You didn't fix me," he added softly. "You just gave me a place to land."

That's when your tears fell.

You buried your face into his chest, and he held you closer, heart echoing steady against your cheek. You stayed like that, wrapped in quiet and safety, until your tears became laughter. The small kind. The tired, happy kind.

Bucky kissed the crown of your head.

"You know," he said, "if you told me back in '43 I'd be lying in bed with a woman who actually liked my music taste and kissed me like I mattered, I'd have laughed in your face."

You smiled sleepily. "And what would you say if someone told you she'd be the one to dance with you barefoot in the kitchen at midnight?"

"I'd marry her," he said without missing a beat.

You blinked, warmth blooming in your chest.

He grinned at your stunned silence. "Too soon?"

You shook your head slowly. "Not soon enough." Then, with eyes full of stars and a voice full of wonder, you whispered: "Ask me again someday."

"I will," he promised. "Every day if I have to."

You fell asleep in his arms with the sound of the record player still echoing faintly in your memory.

Earth angel, earth angel... will you be mine?

And even though the music had stopped hours ago, the melody never really left. Because Bucky Barnes, the man once lost to time, had found his way home.

And you were waiting.

~~~~~

You woke to warmth.

Not the kind of warmth that came from the blankets twisted around your legs, or even the golden sun creeping lazily through the curtains- but the kind that came from a presence. A steady, solid one. Familiar. Safe.

Bucky's arm was draped over your middle, his hand spread wide against your stomach like a shield. His chest was pressed against your back, his legs tangled with yours, and when you shifted slightly, he followed instinctively, burrowing into your shoulder with a low, sleepy sound that made your heart squeeze.

It was early. Quiet. The world outside the windows was still dusted in snow, and everything felt... untouched- like the day hadn't quite started yet. Like it hadn't dared to.

Your fingers slid gently over the vibranium arm now resting beside your hip, watching it catch the sunlight. It gleamed like liquid starlight. The first time you'd seen it, it had terrified you- not because it was metal, but because of what it represented. What he'd been through. What he carried.

But now? It was just another part of him. One more reason you loved him.

He stirred, breath warm against your skin. "Mm. You're awake?"

"I think so," you whispered. "Hard to tell. I could be dreaming."

He hummed, voice thick with sleep. "If you are, don't wake up yet."

You turned in his arms, and he let you, sleepily gathering you against him like he couldn't help it. His hair was a tousled mess, a strand stuck to his forehead. His eyes were still half-closed, but the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was real.

"Hi," you said softly.

"Hi."

You lifted your hand and brushed that rogue stand of hair back. "You snore, by the way."

His eyes narrowed playfully. "I do not."

"Oh, you absolutely do. Soft and grumpy."

Bucky groaned and buried his face into your neck. "I knew I shouldn't have let you sleep this close."

"You love it."

"...Yeah. I really do."

You lay there for a while, drifting in and out of light conversation. He told you about a dream he barely remembered- something about Coney Island, a hot dog stand, and Sam inexplicably wearing roller skates. You told him that you dreamed of your childhood home, but all the furniture had been replaced with dancing records.

Eventually, he propped himself up on one elbow and looked at you seriously. "Can I ask you something?"

You mirrored his position, heart skipping. "Yeah."

"Do you remember the first time I kissed you?"

You blinked. That wasn't what you were expecting- but you smiled as you thought about the scene. "Of course I do. You don't?"

He shrugged with a crooked smile. "I remember your lip balm tasted like cherries, and you were wearing that ridiculous Christmas sweater."

You laughed, the memory rushing back. "It had lights on it!"

"Exactly. And yet, I kissed you anyway."

"Because you were obsessed with me."

"Still am."

You paused, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. "Do you remember why you kissed me that night?"

HIs gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes. "You were talking about the stars," he murmured. "I think we were sitting on the fire escape. You were telling me how ancient the light was- how it traveled for millions of years just so we could see it. And I looked at you and thought..."

He trailed off.

"Thought what?" You breathed.

"I thought, This is it. This is what people write songs about." He cupped your cheek. "And then I kissed you. Because I didn't want to wait another second."

You felt your throat dry. "Bucky..."

"I'm serious. You were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Still are."

You pulled him down into a kiss- slow and deep and sure. One hand in his hair, the other against his back. He pressed into you, strong and solid and yours, and the weight of that truth was almost overwhelming.

When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing you in.

"Can I make you breakfast?" He asked softly.

You smiled. "Only if you wear the apron."

He groaned. "The pink one?"

"With the frills."

"You are evil."

"You love it."

"Unfortunately, yes."

~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, Bucky stood in the kitchen, pink apron tied around his waist, flipping pancakes while humming Earth Angel under his breath. You sat on the counter, watching him, legs swinging, completely at peace.

He glanced at you. "You know, I wasn't kidding."

"About what?"

"Asking you again."

You blinked. "Asking me what?"

"To marry me. Someday."

You swallowed hard. "I remember."

He slid a plate toward you, pancakes stacked with love. Then leaned in close and kissed your temple.

"I'm not rushing you," he said. "But I just wanted you to know... when you're ready, I'll be waiting."

You met his eyes, voice thick with feeling. "I'll keep that in mind, then."

And just like that, the day began- not with alarms or chaos, but with the simple, steady rhythm of love. Of soft laughter, warm pancakes, and a song still echoing faintly in your bones.

"Earth angel, earth angel... please me mine."

[cynosdaydream]

knight!sylus x royalty!reader sneaking away into the garden to shower each other in affection

ROYAL UNDERCOVER!

When the world gets too loud, your loyal knight will always be there to save you.

Now playing: Moon - The Cab

Word count: 1.4k Author's Note: Here you go! I'm really sorry this took so long to get out, my mid-term exams just finished. This is totally not proof read as I am looking at my computer screen through blurry eyes at 12am, so feel free to dm me if there are any errors. enjoy :) Desc: knight!sylus x royalty!reader, fluff, escaping from royal bums, dancing under the moonlight type shit, nothing much really it's just fun teasing n happy stuff yayy

The atmosphere in the foreign ballroom was suffocating. Noble and royalty alike were dressed to the nines, pearls and jewelry reflecting the light from the enormous chandelier. People were mingling, music was playing, and drinks were flowing.

As lavish and glamorous as this event seemed, you felt overwhelmed. It had been hours, and your head was pounding. You couldn't even remember what the purpose of the event was at this point-- 'something about a King's birthday...?' You thought, trying to recall the details on the piece of parchment that your family had received.

"My lady, are you feeling alright?" A hushed voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and a lock of silvery hair brushed against your ear. Ah, Sylus, your knight. He had been your knight since the both of you were children, so he knew you from the inside out. Your parents tried suggesting a change of your personal knight in the past, or even having an additional knight by your side so you could get familiar with the other guards in the castle. However, you were always quick to shut down the idea, insisting that Sylus was doing his job perfectly. As for the additional knights that your parents tried to implement, they usually lasted a few weeks by your side before they seemed to get scared away by something...

"The air here is suffocating." You breathed, tapping your fingers impatiently on the glass you were holding. You gazed at the contents inside, wondering if you should take a sip, but the sickly sweet scent of the drink quickly demolished that idea. "I wish to leave, but alas, I have to keep up appearances."

Sylus smirks. "How unfortunate." His tone suggests that he has no intention of helping you find a way out, but you knew him better than that. Sylus scans across the room, searching for a way to exit discreetly. After a few beats of silence between the two of you, he spots a door at the corner of the crowded ballroom, and leads you to it wordlessly. He lets you step outside first, and before he exits himself, he looks around, making sure that no one saw you two.

The outdoor air felt deliciously refreshing on your skin. After hours of being cooped up in the ballroom, this was the best thing you could have asked for. The night sky, littered with glittering stars and constellations, was a pleasant change from the glaring and overstimulating crystal ceiling of the castle. You weren't familiar with the layout of the foreign castle, but you could recognize that the place that you were in was the royal gardens. Carefully trimmed bushes and flourishing roses lined the paths, leading to various places.

"Where shall we go, my darling knight?" You inquired, turning to face Sylus. He rolls his eyes at the nickname, but ultimately lists a few options. "There's a flower display with a fountain to our left, and a pond with a gazebo to our right. It's up to you, lady __." You ponder for a moment, and you ended up deciding on the gazebo.

It wasn't a long walk from the castle, but it put enough distance between you and the ballroom to ease your headache from the noise. The once overwhelmingly loud chatter from the ballroom dimmed into a faint hum in the background.

The garden was beautiful, breathtakingly so. A circular pond made up most of the section you had walked into, reflecting the twinkling stars, with a short bridge connecting to the gazebo. Even though there were railings along the bridge, your knight still gingerly took your hand as he guided you across.

Despite the darkness of the night, the warm lanterns hung around the gazebo emitted just enough light for you to see the various lily pads floating on the water and the koi fish swimming underneath. You reached over the railings from where you sat to skim your fingers along the surface of the water, admiring how the light seemed to dance and sway along with your movements.

When you turn around to face Sylus, you find that he is already looking at you.

"Come sit, what are you doing just standing there?" You laugh playfully, clasping his hands in yours to drag him to sit beside you. Smiling gleefully, you say, "Isn't this wonderful? The atmosphere here feels so different from just ten minutes ago. The lighting here also gives me less of a headache then that giant crystal ball they call a chandelier." Sylus nods in agreement, crimson eyes still fixed on you.

You tilt your head, curious about why he wasn't saying anything.

"The lighting from the lanterns makes you look even more beautiful, your grace." He mumbles it quietly, but you still catch it anyway. Sylus looks away, seemingly embarrassed, and you decide to tease him just a little. "What? I didn't quite catch that, my ears are still ringing from the music in the ballroom." You start, cupping your hands around your ears.

He glances back at you, mouth pressed into a thin line. Of course he could tell you were joking, but his ears turned the slightest bit red anyway. Sylus hesitates for a moment before repeating himself louder. "I said, the lighting here enhances your beauty, princess ___." He says gruffly, clearing his throat.

Smiling, you lean on his shoulder and hook your arm around his. "That's good to hear. Thank you, Sylus." He simply nods.

The both of you sit like that in silence for a while, and you were starting to get bored. You didn't know when the party would end, but from the way the silhouettes of the orchestra were still fervently moving, you guessed it wasn't anytime soon. Your eyes darted around the surroundings, before you finally got an idea.

"Sylus, let's dance!" You propose, getting up and tugging him up with you. Your knight quirks an eyebrow at you. "Why the sudden burst of energy?" He asks.

"I'm bored to half-death, and it would be a waste of good music to let this moment slip by!"

"I thought you said that the music was giving you a splitting migraine just now?"

"...whatever. Just get up here and dance with me, please?"

You knew that he wouldn't refuse. He never did.

"Alright, at least let me ask you formally first. It would be rude of me not to." Sylus grins. "Lady ___, would you let me have this dance?"

You nodded enthusiastically, taking his hand in yours and letting him spin you around. The two of you danced for a good while, twirling and prancing around with uncoordinated steps. After all, there were no nobles or royals around to watch you, so all normal dancing etiquette was thrown out of the window. As a knight, Sylus wasn't even supposed to be dancing with you like this, a protective hand on your waist and fingers intertwined with yours.

After what felt like forever, the both of you finally stopped dancing, stamina drained from silly leaps in the air and overly exaggerated twirls. Out of breath, you looked up at Sylus and grinned. Obviously, he wasn't as exhausted as you, but his hair was the perfect balanced between tousled and neat. You threw your arms around his shoulders and smiled into his jacket, suddenly overcome with a wave of appreciation for him.

"Thank you, Sylus. For all of this. It really means a great deal to me." Your voice was muffled. As his arms snake around you, you hear his voice, "No need to thank me, I was only doing my duty as your knight, your gr-"

You cut him off, telling him that it was alright to use your name as it was just the two of you around. And you swore you could hear the proud smirk in his voice as he said, "Alright, ___. I'll do whatever you say." You could feel your face warm up due to Sylus' silky smooth voice, and you suddenly felt oddly flustered.

So you did the first thing that came to mind.

You slipped out of his arms and started running back to the palace, yelling out behind you. "People-- are going to get-- suspicious if we're gone for -- too long!" You shout between breaths, tripping on your precariously long skirt every few seconds.

Even though you could see him pinch his nose bridge and sigh in frustration, it was hard to miss the adoring glint in his eyes as he hurriedly ran to catch up with you.

--

additional a/n: I was GOING to make this angst, but i can't be miserable forever

[jitt4z]

kiss me thru the phone

sylus x mc!reader

2k+ words(!!!)

a/n: more smut practice; hope you like it, i tried my best :^)

blurb: sylus has been busy and you’re annoyed. finally he calls and he’s sorry and you like it a little too much

warnings: phone sex, mentions of p in v sex, mentions of lil s but nothing too bad i don’t think, mc is a perv, mentions of fingering, mentions of masturbation, oral sex (afab receiving), maybe bad writing?, sylus is busy and kinda overlooks mc, he begs, you beg, it’s a great time, uhhh, i think that’s it?

You knew he could give it to you just how you wanted. But he couldn’t always do that, and you knew that, too.

Sylus had been busy with work the past few days. It’s not that he didn’t want to or didn’t care; he was just always out and about. Sure, you understood. You two were adults and adults had to take care of adult things like their adult jobs.

Though, you thought to yourself; why couldn’t you be adults who did fun adult things like sex? Whatever, fine.

You wanted to remain considerate. You really did. What’s more important than watching movies until you’re asleep on your couch or making dinner together or bickering about something that doesn’t even matter?

Well, a lot of things. But who the hell cares? Sylus wasn’t with you right now. It didn’t matter how many texts he sent; he wasn’t there. If you could just have him for a second, for a day, for a night. To just imagine his physical presence beside you as you lay in bed, your fingers making their way to where you wanted and needed him most. Trying to get yourself to a release was maddening, yet so beautifully reminiscent.

You were very familiar with him— all of him. Every time he was on top of you, you felt everything from him all at once. His musky scent filling your nostrils, and as his honey filled voice would tease you, asking if you wanted it and when you’d nod your head because your voice was hoarse from the noises you were making that night, he’d tell you to beg. And of course, you’d beg. Anything for him to keep driving into you, to get called his, to know that you’re his. You’d know by the way he would hold your waist in place, the calloused hands leaving your skin hot underneath them. The grip was so firm that you had no choice but to see that dangerous glint in his longing cherry eyes that said you couldn’t run— not now, not ever.

God, where was he?

As if right on cue, your shallow waves of pleasure are interrupted by abrupt vibrations from your phone. Annoyed, you look over, still occupying one hand with the task of trying to climax while the other picked up your phone, a singular name on the screen dimly lit screen:

Sylus

Whaaaaaaaat? Now? Like, right now?

You hold off on the really big and important task for now; your climax can wait. You don’t hesitate for another second before swiping over the answer button.

“H-Hello?” You manage to get out.

“One ring this time, sweetie? Were you waiting for me?” He taunts. You can hear the curling of his lips already, and it was so sexy.

“I have. Where have you been?” The question comes out with a bit more bite than you intended, but it’s not like it was unwarranted. Sylus knows this. You heard him exhale on the other end of the phone.

“How can I make it up to you?” The words were gentle, sincere, and not what you were expecting at all. He didn’t even attempt to make an excuse. It would’ve been easy if he said he had a meeting or phone calls or something.

But no. Just his steady, honeyed voice.

And he wasn’t even saying anything.

It was just him being candid and honest, and all you could do was think about a familiar warmth that began to surge within you.

“Kitten?” The voice on the other end rang again.

“Hm?” You snapped out of whatever trance you were in. You hadn’t even noticed, but your hand had been moving in languid circles against yourself. Before you got on the phone it didn’t do much, but now that you can hear every breath he took, every time he shifted, every time he just parted those perfectly curled lips of his to say something you felt…excited.

“You never answered me,” he continued. “How do you want me to make it up to you?”

You had a few ideas.

“You don’t have to m-make it up to me…” You nearly whined out, your finger grazing over your swollen bud a bit harder than you wanted.

“I will. Tell me— what do you need?”

“I need you…I need you to tell me about your day…”

Couldn’t you have lied a bit better? You thought you’d be able to, but once you heard that voice of his, it was over.

“My day, hm?”

He thought for a moment.

“Well,” he began. “I woke up, I took a shower, I got dressed...”

He knew that’s not what you meant. But it didn’t matter because he was talking to you. Your bedroom was brisk, but you wouldn’t even know because it was as if the warmth of his voice permeated through the phone and into your body, flooding your entire being. He could talk about the color of the paint on the walls, and you’d still feel tingly. Hell, you might even touch yourself to it, just like how you were right now to him talking about his day.

“But that doesn’t matter.” He stated finally. The delivery was almost plain. Flat, even.

“What do you mean?” You were confused. Was he upset? His tone was unreadable.

“I missed you. I’m sorry, sweetie.”

You didn’t know how badly you needed to hear that, to hear him say that. That he missed you. That you were on his mind.

What did he think of when he thought of you? Your eyes? Your smile? How you wouldn’t join Onychinus? Your witty remarks that you’d make when he said anything (but especially when he asked if you’d join Onychinus)?

Would it be wrong of you to wonder if he did think of you the same way you thought of him? If you thought of him giving it to you slow and deep, his base meeting you in rhythmic intervals, his breaths ragged with the occasional groan emitting from that pretty mouth of his, then what did he think?

Then, before you could even think, you moaned. And he heard— he must’ve.

And for some reason, you didn’t care.

“Say it again…” You whispered breathlessly. This time, you were thinking. You knew what those words from him did to you, and it was becoming apparent to him, too.

“I miss you.”

“How much?”

“I miss you so much that I wish I were there so you could let your hands rest and let me do the work.”

Another moan threatens to leave your mouth; this time it’s stifled by you folding your lips. Yet again, he heard. Fuck.

Play it off. Play it cool. He heard nooooothing.

“What do you mean?” You asked almost meekly at the thought of being caught during what was supposed to be a serious and sentimental moment.

“You think I can’t tell when you touch yourself?”

Fuck.

“Shutup…”

“I thought we were reconciling, sweetie. Changed your mind?”

He was an asshole, but you didn’t care in that moment. You needed him.

“Sy…lus…I just need you so bad…it’s been so long…”

“I know, I know,” he cooed. “That’s why I said, ‘Let me make it up to you.’”

He let out a dark chuckle.

“I could help you out, yeah?”

You were nodding your head desperately, even though he couldn’t see you. You wish he were here.

“Yes…yes…” Your touch began to intensify as you thought of him aiding you with something that’s been troubling you since he disappeared for work.

“It’s hilarious, really. I’ve heard you moan a million times. You thought I wouldn’t know?” Of course, he had to be a bit smug before he got to the good part.

“I could get more out of you, you know,” he began, his voice captivating you even more. “If you let me apologize how I want.”

“How do you want to apologize?” You asked, a smirk on your giddy face as you bit your lip, knowing damn well how he wanted to do it.

“Been that long, huh? If I left a few kisses in a few specific spots, would that let you know how much I mean it?”

You mewled in agreement, recalling the past sensations of his mouth on your clit. Instead of your fingers pleasuring yourself, they would be nestled tightly in his hair as he let his tongue glide deftly against you, the feeling being soft, warm, and wet. Every time he moved to open his mouth to return back to you, his nose would rub against your sensitive bud which would make you grind yourself against him even more, as if he already hadn’t buried his face into you as much as he physically could.

“You know I always take my time.” He purred.

You felt your back arch as his voice goaded you on. You didn’t take notice at the time but, you were goading him on, too. Your low sighs and moans into the phone had slowly made his pants tighter for (big) obvious reasons.

“Can you touch it for me? Touch yourself for me.”

“Touch it yourself.”

A rare moment of silence from him. Could it be shock? All you heard was the hitching of his breath and then an amused hum.

“Okay.”

Within 20 minutes he was in your apartment, planting kisses on your knee and working his way up. You felt tiny love bites on your inner thighs. Just only moments ago, he was fully dressed and now his black dress shirt was discarded somewhere on the floor. His hands were leaving indents from how hard he was gripping your legs. When his lips finally did touch you, you clenched around his head, which caused him to chuckle. You squirmed, bucking your hips back into him. He looked up at you, loving the sight of you writhing in pleasure all due to him. To wonder how long you were thinking of this made him smile against you as his tongue slid up and down on your clit. In between breaths, he pleaded with you despite his sore jaw.

“Please forgive me, sweetie.”

Again, you couldn’t reply, only breathy cries being able to leave your mouth. One hand was buried in his silver tufts of hair, and the other was rolling your nipple with your thumb and index finger, getting closer to your release. The movements became more intense, the pressure now palpable as his tongue went from short, quick swipes to full-on sucking. It was beginning to get unbearable, your legs beginning to twitch as you threatened to fall over the edge.

“Please, for me…” He groaned as he pressed himself into your mattress, the friction contributing to the stiffness in your boxers now.

Yes— that’s all you could think as you inhaled deeply before crying out his name. He hummed in approval, the feeling of the sudden vibrations making you convulse even more. Your legs tensed and quivered as your thighs clutched his head once again, his movements unwavering. Finally, as you came down, he ran his hands up and down your thighs, pulling away with that same smirk he always had. His eyes raked over you as he came up, settling beside you. You were still dazed, staring at the ceiling. He came closer, his scent intoxicating as he places a tender kiss on your temple.

Just then, an irritating buzzing comes from your nightstand— it’s his phone.

Slowly, he reached for his phone, and when he did, you scoffed.

“Already going back to work?” You asked while chuckling to hide the bit of disappointment in your voice.

Much to your surprise, he silences his phone before putting his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Not yet. I don’t know if you’ve forgiven me yet. I did say I have to make it up to you after all.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. I missed you.”

His voice wasn’t smug anymore. It wasn’t cocky or overconfident as usual. No, it was the slightest bit emotional— soft, gentle, and sincere.

“I missed you too, Sylus.”

Your body slumps back against his, relaxing in his presence, in the way his voice thrummed through you as he spoke about the past few days that you hadn’t heard from him. Maybe some of the parts were boring or mundane, but you didn’t care, and he didn’t care to think of it either.

For the first time in a while, you were together, and that’s all that mattered.

[golddustwomanwins]

DEVIL’S SNARE

Nerd Art Donaldson x Popular Reader

18+

There will be a second part for this, I just needed to write a little prologue because apparently I’m a yapper.

It was you who’d sought Art out. Your grades were slipping, meaning that your parents slowly took all your privileges away. No partying on the weekends, no meeting friends or even driving around in your car, if you didn’t make an actual effort at studying.

At first you tried on your own. Even forced your friend group to study with you but you’d always and up gossiping and giggling all night.

When your parents took away all your car privileges—meaning you had to take the tram anywhere you wanted to go—you knew you needed someone to help you.

Naturally, Art was a shy, stuttering mess when you approached him. It didn’t take more than batting your long lashes and pulling your plump, glossy lips into a seductive smile and he was nodding quickly. Promising that he’d help you out.

At first he was pretty awkward. Messing up sentences, never meeting your gaze. But the more you two met up the more comfortable he got around you. To your surprise, you really liked spending your evenings with Art. He was a great teacher and for the first time you actually understood what the teachers had always tried to explain.

You met up again at your usual spot in the college’s library but Art seemed off. He was distracted and lazy, his eyes flying to a particular corner every few seconds.

“She’s cute,” you said, without looking up from your sheet of paper.

“W-what?” Art went beetroot red as his eyes flew back to look at you.

“That little brunette girl you’ve been eyeing for the past hour?” You clarified, motioning to the girl on the corner, nose stuck in a particularly enormous book. Her glasses kept slipping off the bridge of her nose while she insistently pushed it back to her eyes.

She was cute. A picture perfect girl, just the type you expected Art to like. On top of class, naturally beautiful with a soft smile and a sweet laugh.

“Stacy? She’s in my math class.” Art scratched the back of his neck.

“How long have you been crushing on her?” You leaned slightly forward, a devilish smile on your face.

“What—no—I haven’t—“ he stuttered and you rolled your eyes.

“Art, we’re not in kindergarten anymore. You can admit if you find a girl hot.”

You were intrigued now. You didn’t expect Art to even notice girls. He was always so fixated on his school work and it barely seemed like he had a social life. At the beginning of your lessons you’d always flirt with him but it seemed like he wasn’t too thrown off by it.

“It’s different. She’s different,” he looked down at his notes. “I—she’s nice and smart and pretty.”

You watched his ears grow red.

“But she doesn’t see me that way,” Art huffed.

A slow, ugly feeling dragged through you. Empathy. You looked back at Stacy chewing at your lip thoughtfully. The romance department might be the only thing you were able to help Art with. And you were in a charitable mood.

The chair screeched as you stood up and Art looked up at you with panic.

“What are you doing?” He hissed, his hand grabbing for your wrist but you were quicker.

Hips swinging you walked confidently over to Stacy. The girl looked up surprised when you gave her a soft smile.

“Hi! Stacy, is it?”

“Uhh, yes,” her eyes flickered between you and Art, who you assumed was dying from embarrassment in the background.

“Do you know my friend over there?” Stacy looked behind you and nodded. Freckles dusted her porcelain skin and you tilted your head slightly. Art was right she was pretty.

“I’m such a cluts, I told him that I’d get the condoms for tonight, then forgot about it and now we’re in a bit of a dilemma,” you said, already imagining Art suffocating you with a math book. You had way too much fun with this.

“And we really wanted to be together tonight, you know,” you winked as Stacy’s cheeks flushed. “Would you be able to help a girl out? I mean you’ve seen Art, you know no one can say no to that.”

“Oh, uhh I’m sorry I don’t have any,” she mumbled but her eyes kept flicking back towards Art every few seconds.

You sighed. “Bummer. Well, I’ll guess we have to do it without then.” You shrugged and turned around, grinning at Art as you approached him.

“What did you do?” He asked horrified.

“I just made Stacy see you in that way,” you shrugged and sat back down. “Won’t be long and she’ll hit you up.”

“I—what?” Art stuttered again.

“Your Welcome,” you slipped your finished worksheet over to him.

It only took Stacy a few couple days until someone started to pound the door at your dorm. You paused the video on your laptop, dissatisfied and slipped into some cheeky shorts before opening the door.

Art looked at you with flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. “I need your help.”

[pricesprincess]

18+ explicit smut mdni + alcohol but no one is drunk or even tipsy + roleplay + 2.5k wc + repost from old blog

"We went to a hotel and pretended not to know each other. It was a lot of fun." The actress on the flickering screen in front of John spoke as she ran her manicured fingers through her husband's hair. 

John huffed slightly, the cigar being squished between his fingers as he listened to the rest of the interview of a few dark romance authors you read from. 

They were doing Q&A's for their fans, and this one was all about roleplay, something new for you both to try out. Lately, it's been nothing but missionary, and the sex has gone stale as much as he hated to admit it, his job and duties kept him exhausted. 

It wasn't something John was proud to admit, knowing you weren't happy; it left a bitter taste in his throat as he clicked through a few more videos, gathering ideas to help the flickering dying flame. 

Most of your orgasms were self-given at this point, late at night when John was gone during a mission, which seems to be happening more and more, leaving you alone to take care of the house and yourself. 

A few days later, with his plan set in stone, the dinner table had been set with candles and takeout from your favorite place because the burnt food was now outside in the garbage with a single rose surrounded by rose petals in the middle. He wondered if this was too much, trying too hard, but he wanted you to feel loved. 

Your key slid into the lock before you pushed open the door, thankful that John was home and, this time, hopefully for a long time, his presence made the house a home, and the warmth from the furnace made you shiver as you slipped your coat and shoes off. "I'm home!" 

John stepped into the entryway, his face flushed, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He opened his arms, letting you fall into them with a giggle while you peppered his face with soft, sweet honey kisses. 

"I missed you so much!" You squealed and wrapped your arms around him, seeing the candles flickering in the small kitchen casting shadows across the wall that piqued your interest. "John?" 

He smiled, staying silent as he gently guided you to the dining room table you two grabbed at an estate sale a year ago before buying your shared home. Now, it's held so many memories, grooved into the wood you'd forever cherish. "Did you do something wrong?" 

Even though your voice was teasing, John's stomach churned with guilt as he pulled your chair back. He held your hand and gently kissed you, helping you sink down as you looked up at him. 

"Not' taking care of my wife," John replied, the sentence enough to make you pause, your hand hovering about the wine glass. 

You frowned, tilting your head up to look at your husband, taking his hand in yours, brushing your thumb across his coarse knuckles. "Why do you say that baby? You take real good care of me." You hummed. 

His lips twitched as he took the chair from across you, plating the food. "Haven't made you giggle or laugh in a while, haven't been home to be here like a man should, and I haven't made you cum." 

Oh. 

Your hand covered his as you looked at him, the candle flickering over your face as you cocked your head. "You've been super busy. I knew what I signed up for when I married you, honey. I don't hold it against you. Do I wish you were home more often? Yes, you're my man." 

"You're my man." Those words echoed through his head, and at that moment, it was decided that he was going to be where he belonged, but tonight wasn't about that. It was about making you feel good. 

Dinner happened with a soft hum of conversation as you ended up nestled on John's lap, your thighs draped over his as you fed each other in between slow kisses that made your toes curl. 

John's hands roamed your body, his rough palms bunching the sundress you wore to your hips. "Tomorrow night, we got plans. Come home after work." He hummed in your ear, kissing it. Once dinner was over, you and John fell into bed, naked and warm, curled together. 

Your husband's words played through your head all morning as you woke up to do your morning routine, your legs still wobbly from the way John had you bouncing on his dick like his personal toy. 

It only made you flustered, and the workday felt like forever, especially with John's teasing texts about what he had planned for the evening ahead. when the clock hit five, you zoomed from the building to your car as fast as possible. 

Excitement bubbled in your veins as you drove home. The streets were dim, and the moon brightened over the small town you and John had settled in. The porch light was dim as you pulled the car into the driveway. 

John was in the bedroom when you entered after slipping your shoes off; the grin on your face was infectious as John matched it, his hand sweeping to the bed where a dress lay, paired with your shoes. 

Your eyes drifted to the mattress to see it was the same dress you wore on your first date, a beautiful color that made your skin glow, but John did it. "What's this all for?" You asked curiously with a grin. 

"Our date, told you luv. Tonight, it's goin' to be different. We're not husband and wife, but a man in need of a pretty woman's cunt." 

His vulgar words made your jaw drop as your cunt ached, throbbing to be filled like last night, the memories making you shift in your spot as you looked at him, dressed in jeans and a button-up, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, making him look like a snack. 

Without realizing it, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in a heated his; his hand rested on the globes of your ass, giving it a squeeze. "So, we're strangers?" You asked, leaning back with a sly smile as you giggled softly. 

John held you as you swayed back and forth, your fingers locked behind his neck. "Yes, ma'am. You'll be sittin' at the bar alone, where I come and save you from bein' stood up. Your safeword is the same." 

The way he looked at you made your stomach flutter. Even years after being married, John had this way of making you feel the same as he did on the first date, giddy like a schoolgirl with her first crush. 

"I'll need the sadness slurped from my pussy." You teased, making him shake his head and chuckle, the sound like music to your ears. 

Once ready, John guided you to his car, opened the door, and kissed your head. Inside, you held his hand, buzzing with excitement. 

“We’re pretendin’ we don’t know each other, somethin’ new and fun,” John murmured, his voice warm like whiskey simmering in your veins, making you flush as you giggled, squeezing his hand agreeing. 

Then it hit you: John skimmed your books, which made a lot of sense when you noticed that a few were out of place months before he was deployed. “You read my smut books, didn’t you?” You teased. 

Your husband looked at you with a wink that melted you like butter in a hot pan, screaming and burning as your eagerness filled the vehicle's cabin, putting John on edge. This was something new and way out of his realm, but seeing you happy about it eased the growing tension in his chest. 

The tire crunched over gravel as he pulled into the parking lot, breaking the silence. 

John was out of the car, opening your door before you could grab the handle, his hand warm and calloused in yours as he helped you out. His other palm rested on your hip. "I'll be inside in five, luv, be a good girl and wait for me." He hummed, leaning in to kiss you, soft, tender. 

You pulled away, resting your hand on his chest and looking at him with all the affection in the world swirling in your eyes. You pecked his lips and glided your hand over his pecs before walking inside. 

Thankfully, the bar wasn't too busy, seeing that it was a Thursday night, giving you most of the bar to yourself and John, who came in through the back door, his eyes scanning the small, cozy space. 

People left you be while you ordered a glass of wine, something sweet that exploded on your taste buds, trying not to watch John from the corner of your eyes even though you could feel him staring. 

It burned a hole in you, melting straight to between your legs, your clit throbbing already. You kept your posture sad and hunched, remembering that the reason you were here was being stood up. 

Two minutes later, John was perched on the barstool next to you. His drink was already ordered when his eyes shifted to you, filled with mock concern. “What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ here all alone?”

You turned and looked at him. The instant your eyes locked, it was over. You gigglingly covered your mouth and shook your head. “Sorry. I don’t know if I can do this; you’re so…you.” You hummed.

John shook his head, his lips twitching with a smile. “Darlin’, what the hell am I supposed to do with you? And what’s that supposed to mean?” He teased, wrapping his arm around your waist when you nuzzled your forehead against his pecking his lips.

“You’re my soulmate, my man; I can’t pretend not to know you when I was riding you like a cowgirl just last night, and we’ve shared so much. It was a hot idea, but I want you as my husband.” You sighed, running your fingers through his brown roots, tugging gently. 

A deep groan rumbled through his chest, feeling your tongue glide into his mouth, tasting and licking the bourbon he ordered and sipped on.

The deep longing carved out a place in his soul, healing the cracks in him. John’s hand bunched the fabric of your dress around your waist, pulling you off the barstool and against him, leaving no room to mistake the feel the desire he felt, the hard poke against your thigh. 

Hand in hand again, John led you from the bar and outside into the cool summer breeze, your giggles breaking up the sounds of a few cars passing by while you opened the back door and guided him to the backseat slapping his ass and hearing him grunt.

John settled on the cool leather, spreading his legs as he helped you join him. He sat on his lap and leaned back while you shut the door, sealing both of you off from everyone. “You’re so handsome, so sexy.”

Your words were laced with affection and desire as your hands roamed his body, running over the soft pudge of his stomach softened by homecooked meals made with love and your spoiling. 

While you touched him, he returned the same favor, his fingers grazing under your dress, teasing, making your skin breakout in goosebumps while you humped him, grinding your cunt against him. 

The car was filled with heavy breathing and teeth-clacking kissing as your hips worked harder until John slid his hand into your panties, feeling how wet and slick you were, his fingers gliding against the lips of your cunt, making him groan again. “Fuck, sweetheart. Drippin’ for me.”

While leaning back, John sunk two thick fingers inside you with a squelch that was music to his ears; pumping them in and out at a slow pace had you feral, the teasing of his thumb against your clit ghosting.

He knew what he was doing, barely giving in until he was pressing against your g-spot, pressing his thumb down with circles, making you clench and hump his fingers this time, your hands resting on his shoulders, moaning, getting lost in the haze of it all but the flash of car lights pulling into the parking lot had you gripping his wrist.

“John!” You giggled and whined when he pulled his fingers out, his dark eyes watching as you sucked yourself off him before moving out of the backseat fixing your dress, and getting into the passenger. 

It didn’t take long for your husband to join you, his cock still hard and straining painfully against his zipper. He pressed on the gas, pulled out of the lot to drive home as quickly as possible, and John helped you out of the car, holding your hand while leading you inside. 

You both barely made it past the door before John had you pressed against the wall, his lips desperate and hungry while his hands tore at your dress until it pooled around your heeled feet. Your touch was hot, scorching against his skin as you undressed him not breaking the kiss. 

All tongue and hands, you and John ended up on the floor naked and warm, tangled together. His cock rutted against your hip as he helped you to a position of sixty-nine with you on top, still wearing your shoes. 

John didn’t give you any time to do anything before his hands were on your hips, bringing you down on his face, fully knowing he’d die a happy man if this were his last meal. Slowly, he licked a hot swipe up your cunt from your quivering hole to your swollen clit, flicking and sucking.

Your jaw went slack at the feeling as your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock before your mouth was wrapped around his leaky head, going further until you gagged, feeling the curly and hoarse hair tickling before you found a slow and teasing pace. 

It was a mess of spit and slick as you bobbed your head feeling his tongue swirl over your clit before kissing your pussy that drenched his face and beard leaving it glistening like his sack from your salvia. 

Moaning around him, the sound vibrating around his cock, making him grip your ass, forcing you to ride his face harder until your orgasm burst open, making you squeal and gag on his cock, jerking your hips. 

But that didn’t stop John; his tongue was relentless in making out with your cunt making it sticky and prolonging the cloud of pleasure. It spurred you to make him a mess, too; your tongue lavished each inch of him, spitting and jerking him off, moaning and grinding down. 

There was nothing but panting and sucking that filled the small entryway of your shared home when John felt himself tighten before spilling down your throat, making sure you swallowed all of it. 

After a long moment of sitting there with his cock still in your mouth, feeling it soften, you finally rolled off him stretching your legs with a whine. “I think we need to start stretching before sex.” You giggled. 

John chuckled, his face a mess of your cum glazing his lips. He rolled to his side, caressing your curves, lingering over your breasts, his face ruddy with the afterglow. “We’re not done yet, but you’re right, darlin’. We must stretch and move to the bed; my back is achin’.”

[chunkitakii]

Pussy drunk lux..

Oh you might be onto something, Anon…

WARNING: This contains doggy position, drool, and Lux being a mumbling mess.

NSFW UNDER CUT

When this toon is pussy drunk, just imagine a regular love sick cartoon. Like with the hearts and stars flying around the head, heart eyes, woopy smile, and swaying in the body. The whole thing.

Listen, Lux would prefer taking the upper hand in intimacy. But if you asked to take charge, he would probably laugh and say that you ain’t gonna last, but he’ll accept!

This toon will turn into a blabbering mess so quick. Even after you are done, give this man an hour and some light, this man would want seconds.

Sorry that this wasn’t as long as the other ones!

The room was filled with nothing but filthy sounds. Your moans, Lux’s moans, and the platting sounds of his and your regions colliding together.

With your head in the pillows and your ass up towards him in a doggy position. Lux couldn’t help himself from going to town on you.

While absolutely jackhammering into you, he had his arms wrapped in rows of six around your waist, making sure he and you couldn't be separated.

Even from this position, you could tell that Lux was slowly losing himself. His pace faltered, his moans turned into ragged whines and murmurs, and his words turned into a jumbled mess.

At the first round of the night, Lux started out as,

"My goodness, sunshine! You really know how to... Mmh... Take a mans breath away!…"

Then the second round, he evolved to,

"I don't think I can keep this up if you're squeezing me so tightly..."

Then to a mumbling mess of different words in the fourth round.

You didn't even understand him at this point; you took it as a sign that you were doing good. A little too good considering he’s only run by pure pleaser and a will.

You could feel hot, sticky drool pool on your back. His breath hot and steamy against your neck, panting like a wild dog in heat. His arms squeezed your waist tighter, making you groan from the sudden pressure.

You could tell he's close. Instead of pumping himself into you, he grinded himself instead. Make sure that when he cums, it can already be deep within your hole. His moans had gotten audibly louder, even louder than yours. And more pathetic at that.

Lux began to spew out more mumbled words, but the only words that he spoke were "Yes!…" and "C-Cumming!…"

Suddenly, you could hear a train whistling behind you, scaring the life out of you. But after turning over your shoulder to look at him, it was just his silly cartoon antics he did. You sort of didn’t know that he can even do that when he came too, it was sort of interesting.

As Lux came, you can feel hot sticky cum fill your insides. Making you moan out in ecstasy, soon releasing your own high.

Lux’s hips stuttered, and gave out short little humps to chase out his high. The arms around your waist loosened, but didn’t unravel themselves just yet.

A sudden weight was now on you, pushing you down more into the bed. Looks like Lux had his fun and gave out, falling on top of you while he was balls deep within. You looked over your shoulder to make sure Lux was okay, but the sight itself was just beautiful.

Lux had pupils the shape as hearts, much like the current ones popping around his head. But instead of the original red color, his pupils had a beautiful golden color. His tongue sat on the side of his crooked, goofy smile.

You just assume he just tuckerd himself out pounding into you. Aw, poor thing.

“Hey Lux…You okay?” You stated as you reached over your shoulder and gave him soft pats on the head. But the only response you had gotten was a simple “mmhm…” and a shaky thumbs up.

Yea, he’s fine.

Lux being pussy drunk is one of the few thing you will encounter him, due to him always wanting the control in intimacy.

BUT, if he is too into the moment, and going overboard. This man will just fuck himself over and be brain dead for the next hour.

[lovemepartly]

temporary fix ✩ namgyu

inspired by one direction’s temporary fix 🙃

warnings: 18+, smut, drinking. namgyu is kind of an asshole?

a/n: finally locked in and wrote for squid game 🙏 i can’t wait for s3... also maybe i'll make a part two of this??

 ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ 

the club was loud. people danced in drunken circles, pushing each other like it was monday morning on a commuter train. you sat at the bar, phone face up, as you desperately waited for your phone to light up. 

your date was running late. it was your third time seeing each other and because he liked clubbing as much as you did, you suggested a night out partying. he seemed enthusiastic, but now was a no-show. your phone finally lit up, his name flickering on the screen, and a stupid excuse about why he couldn’t come. you scoffed silently, turning your phone over, and leaning over the counter to ask the bartender for your favorite cocktail. 

namgyu had noticed you from across the bar, like he usually noticed girls that seemed like they had been stood up. he was drawn to them, not because he was some saint or trying to be a prince charming coming to their rescue, but almost because he found their vulnerability entertaining, seeing it as some sort of challenge. so he walked up to the bar, sliding into the seat next to you as he looked at you, saying his classic line; “that bad, huh?”

“what?” you turned to face him, taking a sip from the bright red cocktail in front of you. 

“you got stood up.” he said simply, as if it was the most obvious fact in the world - as if everyone in the club could see that you had been ditched by your date. 

“how’d you know?” you respond, cocking your head slightly with a playful smile. 

“figured,” he shrugged, gesturing the bartender to bring him a drink, “pretty girls like you aren’t usually alone.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, taking another sip from your drink to distract from the fact that you didn’t exactly know how to respond to the compliment. luckily, he spoke first. “i’m namgyu.”

“namgyu,” you echoed, rolling his name off your tongue, before introducing yourself. 

“what are you drinking?” he asked curiously. 

“cherry sazerac.” you hummed, eyes flicking over his face to study his features. he was beautiful in an almost alluring way; you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. maybe it was the sharpness of his features, the way his cheekbones and nose were so perfectly defined. maybe it was his slightly long, black hair - a feature you had always liked on men. or maybe it was the way he carried himself with the utmost confidence, to approach a random girl at the club. 

namgyu noticed the way your eyes flickered over his face, and he couldn’t stop a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips at the intensity of your stare. “hey,” he said after a small pause, “would you like to dance with me? i promise i’m a good dancer,” he added with a small wink. 

you couldn’t stop a small smile from appearing on your lips at his words and nodded softly, taking his hand, as you stood from the chair, saying, “i’ll hold you to that.”

so you danced with namgyu. truth be told, he was a lot of fun. it was the exact kind of night you had been in the mood for. you could feel the bass in your chest as the music pumped loud, as namgyu sang to you, as you screamed the lyrics to songs from the 2000’s with him. maybe it was the way you swung your hips against his to the music, or the way the two of you had stumbled to the bar and interlaced your arms as you took shots, that led to him asking, “want to come to the bathroom with me?”

you didn’t even hesitate, just nodded, taking his hand as he led you to the club bathroom. it was dirty but it also wasn’t the first time you’d done this. as soon as the bathroom door was locked, namgyu didn’t hesitate to push you against the counter, gently cupping your face as his lips roughly connected with yours.

you could taste the alcohol as you kissed him, and it was unironically intoxicating. he kissed with passion, with need, with hunger - and it tasted like everything you had been craving that night. his hands made their way further down, roaming across your body, his hands gripping your thighs, gently tracing over the skin just under your dress. 

namgyu pulled away for just a moment, breathlessly looking at you, and a firm nod from you was all he needed. he kissed you once more, almost softly but still laced with passion, as he turned you over, pulling down his pants and boxers. he took out a condom from his pocket, almost as if he was prepared - or maybe he just did this often, before rolling it onto himself. He lifted up your dress, pushing your underwear to one side, as his eyes locked with yours in the mirror, searching for any doubt. when he found none, he gently stroked himself a couple of times, before holding onto your hip with one hand, and aligning himself with your entrance as he gently pushed in. 

you held back a moan at the initial sensation, and you could tell he did too, the way his head leaned back for just a moment and the way his eyes fluttered closed. he slowly began moving, thrusting into you, his gaze moving from the scene in front of him to your face in the mirror, studying the way your face contorted softly with every moan. he muttered soft curses and dirty praises under his breath as his hips moved, increasing his pace. the bathroom was filled with the sounds of your hips connecting, his words, the soft moans that escaped from your lips, and the rough grunts from his. 

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, “’m gonna come.” a couple more messy, fast thrusts did it for him and you could see him shuddering in the mirror, his grip on your hip tightening just a bit. 

he pulled out, discarding the condom and putting his pants back on, as you turned around, pulling your dress and underwear back on. he murmured another curse under his breath, before turning to you, gently reaching out to move a piece of hair out of your face. he couldn’t help but to lean in again, softly kissing you, the kiss more gentle now and filled with less hunger. 

“listen,” he murmured softly against your lips, “i was supposed to meet some friends tonight and i’m kind of already running late.”

“that’s fine.” you whispered softly, lips brushing against his. 

“i hope you didn’t think that that was, like…” he paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain the interaction you’d just had. 

“it’s fine,” you said with a small smile, knowing what he was about to say. “i wasn’t looking for anything serious tonight.” and it was the truth. 

“cool.” he said, flashing you his signature crooked smile, as the two of you exited the bathroom. “i’ll see you around then.” 

“yeah,” you murmured softly, watching as he left. 

[cuntboyprincess]

Camping with my uncle 2

He stopped for a second. Then said :"Don't you want me to do this? If you don't I will stop immediately...." I tried to gather myself. My clit was twitching in between his fingers. And I felt his hardned dick pressing in my back. I was so ashamed of myself, because I wanted it. I wanted it so bad. I blushed and said "I want it..." He stroked my whole body now, his voice turns shaky again "Can I fuck you? I have no condoms here but I'm neutered and can't make you pregnant" My whole body was burning. I never had raw sex, I always used condoms. I was so turned on by the thought of my uncle being the first one. And how this would turn into our dirty little secret. "Please, just take me. I want you in me", I finally said it. I closed my eyes and avoided looking into his eyes. He grabbed me by my shoulders and turned me around, facing him. He smirked for a second, then kissed me. And at that time it didn't feel weird to kiss him and make out with him. His touch felt so arousing, he squeezed me and stroked my curved, he held me. And I was soaking wet. After a couple minutes of making out I suddenly felt him entering me. He was thick, but I was aroused enough for it to slip in easily. It felt like a fever dream. Waves of pleasure went through my body, I embraced him and opened my legs a little more for him. Since he's overweight it was a little difficult for him and he started sweating a lot. His sweat dripping down on me. I felt so dirty. I had no idea how to feel, perhaps I felt nothing in that moment except 95% sexual pleasure. Yeah, well he fucked me, long and good. I was riding him. We fucked like animals. It was literally so hot and the best sex I ever had. He came inside me 2 times and at the end we were so exhausted, we fell asleep instantly lying in each others arms, and we were still connected down there. It was so weird waking up in the morning. Disgust, guilt and the feeling of being dirty overwhelmed me. I felt to much guilt towards my aunt. I felt horrible. I cleaned my pussy and took on some clothing after waking up. My uncle behaved very weird, too. He woke up and acted as if nothing happened. He grabbed a beer and then we went back home. It was a 3 hours drive. But we didn't speak to each other. It felt very awkward. As we arrived back at his home, I couldn't look my aunt in the face, I felt awful. My uncle said it was an amazing trip, he had a lot of fun and he would definitely do it again. It took me a lot of strength to pretend I had fun and everything was okay. And my aunt asked me if I was sleeping downstairs or upstairs. When I said up, she said "But wasn't your uncle too big for the other bed?" and I was too ashamed to admit we were sleeping in the same bed. I got back home to my place and it took me several days to let it sink in. I masturbate daily to these memories. It was such a hot, forbidden, morally wrong and very good sex 🥵 I'm so afraid of the future, since this happened now and we all know we can't keep secrets for ever. I would die if anybody found that out....