#i need to stop doing these before i go to sleep

[itaipava]

— f1 boys falling asleep on you.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

trying to sleep at an ungodly hour after returning home from a night out; still feeling giddy from the rush and excitement of the night as you both get ready for bed. he hugs you from behind and rests his head on your shoulder as you brush your teeth, almost falling asleep right there. after you’re done, you crawl into bed together, saying “goodnight” for the thousandth time, but neither of you closing your eyes as you gaze happily at each other with soft giggles and bright smiles amidst yawns. sleepy and a little tipsy, but too in love with the moment and each other to want to fall asleep, but inevitably doing so with happy sighs as he pulls you closer to him, with his face in your neck and intertwining your legs.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

he always says he wants to do a lot of things with you when he gets home to make up for the time he was gone, but as soon as you settle in to watch that new movie you were looking forward to watch, he falls asleep. you look at him and smile, gently placing his head on your lap. you stroke his hair as he sleeps peacefully. but he ends up waking up in the middle of the movie, and starts asking questions like "what happened to him?" while lazily pointing at the character and, as soon as you finish talking, he dozes off again, even though he promised himself that he would stay awake.

˒ ⌕ SEBASTIAN VETTEL

you woke up early, but you didn't want to disturb his sleep, so you tried to get out of bed as quietly as possible. you sat up and stretched, but before you could actually get up, you felt his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. you smiled, and tried to tell him that you needed to get up, but he was too busy using your lap as a pillow to even hear you.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he had been trying to sleep alone for a long time, but he couldn't even with the gentle sound of the rain outside. you open the bedroom door and he smiles when he sees you; he lifts the blanket next to him, a silent invitation for you to go lie down with him. you smile and lie down, silently he pulls you to him, holding you lovingly. you stroke his hair and he closes his eyes, enjoying your affection and the warmth of your body. and when you least expect it, he is in a deep sleep while holding you.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

you were lying together on the couch in the living room, savoring the warmth and the cool breezes that came in through the sunny window; you admired how the sunlight fell beautifully on each other's features as he held you close to him. there was soft music playing in the background as you hummed along to the melody or said things like "oh, i love this song!" which always made him smile. wordless but meaningful looks of "i love you" to each other. suddenly he stopped running his fingertips over your body and, looking at his face, you saw that he fell asleep holding you, feeling safer than ever.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

you and him love to talk before bed; it’s an unspoken routine in your relationship. you talk about your days, your thoughts, your worries, about that squirrel you saw on the street, anything and everything; your voices only slightly above whisper, trying not to disturb the quietness of the night but failing to do so when laughter comes over you both. he hugged your waist and put his face in your neck while you spoke, but at a certain point you felt his heavy breathing and, when you looked at him, you saw him sleeping. you smiled affectionately and gave him a kiss on the corner of his mouth, which made him pull you even closer to him.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

after he takes you to a great restaurant in the city, you arrive home and rest on the couch while talking about anything that comes to mind. he sighs deeply, and puts his head on your shoulder, looking at his face, you notice how sleepy he is when the food coma kicks in. you smile, and pull him closer to you, and that's when he settles down next to you on the couch, holding you tightly against him as he lets sleep take over.

˒ ⌕ FRANCO COLAPINTO

he comes home absolutely exhausted after a long training session. after a hot shower, he lies on top of you, hugs your waist and puts his face in your neck, feeling your warmth and your scent. at that moment, he feels like he is in heaven. you gently stroke his back while asking him how his day was, but he is so tired that he just mumbles something softly and falls asleep on you.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

you woke up earlier than usual, and you couldn’t fall asleep again but you didn’t want to leave his side; quiet moments with him are so rare, so you wanted to make the most of them. he also wakes up, but only to pull you towards him even more, using you as a pillow. you smile and stroke his hair, which makes him sigh and fall asleep again, without a care in the world.

[cuntinies]

Bad Example

summary: abby sets a bad example for your little one

cw: mom!abby x mom!r, fast forward a couple months to fit what i wanted to write lol, mentions of sex, no smut, abby is being lazy and reader is bitchy hehe, abby slaps your butt. you two still love each other ok?!?!?!!?!?

"Whoa there, partner!" you say, quickly scooping up your little rascal of a daughter as she reaches for the bowl of chocolate chip pancake batter. She may be over 18 months old, but that hasn’t stopped her from climbing to grab whatever you set on the counter. You set her back on the floor, revoking her breakfast-helper privileges, and she glares up at you, babbling out in protest.

"Hey, don’t talk back to your mother missy!" Abby’s voice booms as she enters the kitchen, startling both of you. You spin around, eyes meeting your beautiful wife. Her blonde hair, tousled from sleep and the quickie you snuck in before you were off to your wifey duties, falls perfectly over her shoulders, and her oversized crewneck just barely hides the shorts she wore to bed. Your stomach flutters, the desire to drag her back into your shared bedroom, but you’re interrupted by your little one grabbing at your pant leg, steadying herself between your knees. “You say that, but where do you think she learns it from?” you mutter as you turn back to mixing the batter. You think Abby didn’t hear, but she just scoffs, sorting through the mail you picked up earlier.

Usually, Abby’s a big help, but lately, she’s been testing your patience. Like earlier this week: she left her shoes right outside the shoe rack again. You tripped over them coming in with your daughter, nearly dropping her. When you yelled about it, all she did was laugh, reaching over to kiss your forehead “You're so cute when you're mad,” you immediately wiped the kiss off. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing a quick apology against your cheek before wrapping you and the baby girl in her arms. The little one giggled, but you just rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smack Abby.

Or like yesterday: Abby offered to put the baby down, but by 8:30 p.m., peeking into the nursery, there they were, Abby, blowing raspberries on your little one’s belly, sending her into a fit of giggles. Adorable, yeah, but it was well past bedtime. "I don’t know if I want to yell or kick you," you said, Abby froze like a kid caught in the cookie jar. Without another word, you scooped up your baby girl, wrapped her in her blanket, and headed out of the room. It wasn't a big deal, really, but it was the cherry on top of a frustrating day. Abby apologized later that night, swooning you with kisses and tangling you both in the sheets.

Even though you woke up to a nice surprise this morning. Abby's hand traveling down your pajama pants, her whispering in your ear, “Let me get a taste, yeah?” in that husky morning voice that makes you weak, you're still pissed at her

“Ugh, they need to stop sending me this garbage,” Abby grumbles, tearing up a campaign flier and tossing it in the trash. The kitchen grows quiet as your little one now stands at your side, reaching her tiny hands up at you, whining to be held. Just as you turn around, you feel a sudden sting on your left butt cheek, a familiar smack. Abby’s got a habit of this, so you try to ignore it, denying her the reaction she’s after. But then you feel three little slaps on your thigh, just under your rear. You look down to see your little one mimicking Abby’s antics, her sweet face looking up at you.

You let out a laugh of shock, looking up at Abby, whose mouth hangs open in a proud, slightly shocked grin. “What did I tell you, Abby?” you say, raising your voice as Abby breaks down laughing. Your little girl crawls over the blonde, picks her up, and joins in her laughter.

“You think it’s funny, but now she’s going to start slapping stranger’s asses,” you say, trying to keep a straight face but failing, biting back your smile. Abby stifles her laughter as she looks at your mischievous little one, who babbles a few “mamas” in between giggles.

“No, lovey, we don’t hit Mama,” Abby says, wagging her finger playfully. Your daughter's face crumbles, her bottom lip jutted out in a pout as tears well up and spill down her chubby cheeks. Abby cradles her, muffled sobs in the crewneck of your wife as Abby silently laughs. 

“Babe! Go put her down for her nap. And be a good mommy and apologize to her!” you say, rubbing the little one's back gently. Abby shakes her head, laughing to herself as she kisses your daughter's head, soothing her as they head off to the nursery. As Abby turns to walk away, you sneak a little squeeze on her butt, her glaring back at you playfully.

You turn back to the batter, giggling to yourself as you add a bit of water to smooth the mix, listening to Abby and your baby girl’s babbling conversation down the hall. Suddenly, there's a loud thump, followed by a frustrated “SHIT!”

“What happened?!” you call out, dropping the spoon and standing still, waiting for Abby’s response.

“My damn shoes!” she yells back, voice muffled as you hear her step into the nursery and closes the door behind her.

You smirk, shaking your head. That's what her ass gets.

a/n: all my ideas come when it's 4am and i cant go back to sleep but i dont want to look at my phone bc then i wont go back to sleep so i will just make these fake scenarios to help me sleep. LOL. should i make this a series? lmk <3

[entirelysein-e]

『 Tasty! 』

��� synopsis: Kyojurou comes back from a mission and finds you touching yourself, wanting to help you find release

☼ character: Kyojuro Rengoku

☼ wc: 1.5k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, masturbation, fingering, oral (reader receiving), slight overstimulation, squirting, pet names

Kyojurou made sure to kiss your forehead before he left for his mission, hating that he had to leave with the first ray of sunshine, but he tried his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. Your hands held onto his haori in your sleep, not wanting him to leave just yet and it almost broke his heart, carefully removing your hands from the cloth and kissing each of your knuckles.

“I promise that I'll be back home as soon as I can, my firefly,” he whispered and gave one last kiss onto your temple before he had to leave.

Waking up without your lover felt like getting your heart ripped out each and every time and you knew he could never wait until you're awake when he left, not wanting to see you cry or risk you begging for him to stay home - he hates making you upset after all, but so far he always made it back home in one piece.

The time went by slowly while your lover was gone, trying to go on with your usual routine got harder day by day, your mind starting to cloud with worry alongside a need to be with him again and while doing the laundry you stumbled across one of his haori, laughing softly to yourself when his scent filled your senses, hugging the clothing item close to your chest as if you'd be hugging him. You missed him far too much to toss this haori into the laundry, deciding to wear it yourself in order to feel a little less lonely in this big house while all you did was wait for his return and try not to go crazy.

You don't know when it happened but you found yourself in your shared bed, wearing nothing but his Haori while your hand was working magic on your neglected cunt. Nimble fingers rubbing circles onto your overly sensitive clit before dipping into your wetness just like Kyojurou would, but your little fingers could never make you feel just as good, leaving you unsatisfied despite the orgasm that shook your entire body. Desperate for more, you curled your fingers against your sweet spot over and over, using your second hand to play with your little bundle of nerves while moaning his name, imagining it would be him taking care of you after being gone for weeks.

Your poor cunt felt so neglected, trying not to touch yourself while he was away, knowing he wants to make love to you the second he's home, but this time you just couldn't help yourself, missing his touch far too much.

The moans of his name echoed from the walls alongside the squelching sound of your fingers working you open, unable to hear the way Kyojurou called your name, wondering where you were since you usually jump into his arms the second he opened the door. He was on guard now, fearing something might have happened, not wanting to think of the worst yet as he made his way through the house, checking every room for possible signs of danger when he stopped dead in his tracks in front of your shared bedroom.

The heat crept up his neck, his name called out in such lewd ways had him gasping for air and a big smile crept to his face when he opened the door, seeing you on your bed with your legs spread wide, fingers knuckle deep in your dripping wet folds - and is that his Haori?!

“Was I gone too long this time?” He asked, a smirk creeping up on his face despite his eyebrows being knit together in worry. Neglecting you was the last thing he ever wanted, feeling guilty for being gone for weeks at a time but the moment he spoke up, you flinched, trying to cover yourself to regain some decency which made him chuckle.

“Hey now, no need to cover yourself for your husband,” he said amused and stalked over to where you were laying in long strides just to rip the blanket away from you - the hunger for you clear in his eyes.

Kyojurou was aching to touch you as well, seeing you so vulnerable and moaning his name had him hard and leaking with pre cum already as he climbed onto the bed, lips locking in a desperate kiss before taking hold of your hand to lick your fingers clean that we're still coated with your juices. He moaned obscene when your slick melted on his tongue, his eyes locked with yours as he did so.

“You're so tasty… can't get enough,” he whispered and licked his lips, strong hands already parting your thighs to uncover your glistening folds to his hungry eyes.

“Please touch me” you whimpered, desperate to feel his fingers work their magic and you didn't even need to ask twice before you felt two of his thick fingers part your folds and collect some of your slick.

Kyojurou didn't want to tease you, not when you were so desperate for his touch that you needed to please yourself in his absence. A sweet moan of relief escaped your beautiful lips when he finally sunk his fingers into your heat, his eyes closed in delight at the squelching sounds erupting from your cunt.

“How many times, firefly? You're so worked up” he asked amused, intense gaze fixed to your face that started to contort in pleasure.

“Three” you whimpered, letting him know how many times you've come undone on your own fingers but no matter how many times your fingers coaxed an orgasm out of you, they were nothing in comparison to the ones your husband gave you and he knew.

Thick fingers repeatedly massaged your sweet spot he was all too familiar with as the calloused pad of his thumb made sure to take care of your little clit just the way you liked it, making you squirm and moan in bliss. Before you knew it you started to clench around his fingers, crying out his name

“Hmm… slow down, too much,” you whined, feeling like you would burst at the seams if he keeps going but no matter how much he slowed down, the next time he pushed against your g-spot you screamed in pleasure as clear liquid sprayed all over his eager hand and strong arm, catching both of you off guard but Kyojurou didn't let you close your legs even if that's what you wanted, a look of pure adoration on his face.

“Did you just squirt?” He asked amazed, having heard from Tengen that this can happen if the orgasm is intense but all you wanted to do was hide from your lover's intense gaze, whining with his thick fingers still slotted deep inside of you.

“Can you do it again?” He asked curious, moving his fingers exactly like before, which had you moaning loudly right away from how sensitive you were now, shaking your head

“I-I can't,” you whimpered, unsure how to feel about the way you just created a mess on your shared bed but Kyojurou gave you a sweet smile and kissed one of your soft thighs

“You can give me another one… you're my good little firefly, aren't you?” He asked in such a sweet way that made it impossible for you to say no and you wanted more, needing more which knew all too well, your walls clenching hard and practically pulling his fingers in so they won't stop caressing your sensitive spots.

“That's my wife… my beautiful sunflower,” he hummed and replaced the rough pad of his thumb with his skilled tongue, lapping up the juices on your dripping cunt and almost driving you insane with overstimulation but he went oh so slow, making sure to feel the way your sweet spot started to get more and more sensitive to his prodding fingers before speeding up, curling them right against it over and over again until he felt you clench his fingers like a vice, your hands grabbing onto his bicolored hair.

You didn't even give him a chance to pull away, selfishly grinding your core against his face until you exploded again, the liquid splashing right against his tongue and face, making him moan loudly as he ate you out with more vigor this time, not getting enough from your taste.

“You're so tasty, firefly. Can you give me one more? Just one?” He almost begged, needing to feel you come undone like this once more, addicted to your sweet moans and your taste. Your poor head was spinning from the intensity this orgasm held but you mindlessly nodded, wanting more than you can handle, more than you thought you'd get when you started playing with your neglected cunt - your husband now made sure you are well taken care of.

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 7

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.9k

Note : This chapter was quite nice to write. I’ve never had siblings but I’ve had people who I thought of as siblings so I hope the work translates to the reader and Yelena. Enjoy! 

Series Masterlist

“How did You Find Me?”

Tuesday.

Eventually, it was time for you to move back to your apartment. You knew it was coming, but the knowledge didn’t make it easier. 

You had spent far more time at Bucky’s than you intended. His presence had become a comfort to the quiet confusion you occupied.

The day of the move, Bucky was there, as he had always been.

As you stood in the foreign space of your apartment, he was there— helping you rebuild the space a version of you once called home.

The two of you worked in near silence, the kind that had become comfortable. 

Every now and then, he’d ask where something should go. You wouldn’t know, so you just pointed at where you thought made the most sense.

There was something methodical about the process of unpacking and rearranging. Back at the museum, you loved cataloging, so this should have been soothing. But it wasn’t. 

As you placed your clothes back into drawers and rearranged ornamental things on the shelves, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were putting together a puzzle with missing pieces.

Bucky didn’t ask how you were, didn’t try to force a conversation you weren’t ready for. 

He just helped. 

He dusted the shelves you hadn’t touched in months. He wiped down the counters that gathered layers of dust. Every now and then, you caught him checking to make sure you were okay. 

By the time the apartment was mostly back in order, the sun had set. 

This space, once yours, felt like it belonged to a stranger. This sense of detachment was unsettling, like you were an outsider looking in.

Bucky moved towards the door, though he hadn’t opened it yet. He stood there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slightly torn jacket.

“It looks like it used to,” he said quietly. You glanced at him, then back at the room. You nodded, trusting that it did.

Bucky took a small step toward the door. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say goodbye, but his eyes told you he didn’t really want to go. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said finally. He stood there, one foot in your apartment and the other in the hallway.

You felt a flutter of panic that made your chest tighten. The thought of him leaving— of being alone in this empty space— was unbearable. 

Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Do you think… Can you stay? M-maybe for a couple weeks?”

Bucky blinked, surprised by your request. 

For a moment, you worried you’d said too much, that you’d crossed a line.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to be alone yet,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. 

The tension in his muscles melted away as he took a slow step toward you.  

When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. “Of course.” He said, “I’ll stay as long as you need.”

Wednesday.

Exhaustion finally pulled you into a restless sleep, but you didn't find any peace. 

It was the concrete again, heavy against your body. It collapsed around you, trapping you in a suffocating darkness. The cold scrape of rubble, the crushing weight, your muffled screams—  it was too much to process. You were desperate to escape. You were struggling to breathe. 

Then, you saw a tall figure walking towards you— Bucky! 

But the walls began to close in completely before he could get to you.

Suddenly, you felt rough hands on your shoulders, shaking you firmly. The world around you started to dissolve. 

You found yourself fighting against the intrusion.

You swung in self defense, fist connecting with something solid. A sharp grunt of pain finally pulled you back into the present. 

Jolting awake, you realized you were in your bedroom. Bucky crouched next to you, clutching his jaw.

“Oh, God—Bucky! I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—” you stammered, horrified.

His eyes softened relieved that you were awake, despite the slight bruise. 

He waved it off.” It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the punch surprisingly well. “I’ve had worse.”

You looked at the clock on your bedside table that read 01.00 AM. 

Had you only been asleep for two hours? 

“You were having a nightmare,” he told you.

You sat up, clutching the blankets to your chest. You couldn’t remember all the details, but terror settled in your bones anyway.

“I’m gonna stay here,” he said. His voice was calm, almost casual, almost waiting for your permission. “Just in case.”

Maybe you should just tell him to go back to the guest room, brush it all off with a forced laugh, or apologize profusely for punching him.

But the idea of being alone again, left to wrestle with the dark corners of your mind, was unbearable. 

You managed a nod. 

He eased himself beside you. He stayed above the covers, respecting the boundary between your space and his.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Bucky simply leaned back, propping himself on one arm, his other hand close to yours but not quite touching.

Eventually, he broke the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. It was too soon to put the fear into words. Bucky nodded, and you were grateful for it. He leaned back, his head resting against the headboard.

After a few moments, you let out a shaky breath.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

Slowly, hesitantly, you let your eyes shut, listening to the calm, reassuring sound of his breathing. Each rise and fall of his chest became an anchor, something to focus on beyond the remnants of your nightmare. 

The bed dipped slightly as he adjusted, inching closer. His human hand laid next to yours, a quiet offer of comfort if you wanted it.

Finally, you shifted closer, curling into the warmth of his presence. His arm wrapped around you, gentle and protective.

You didn’t think you could fall asleep again, but with him there, the crushing weight in your chest began to ease.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered.

Saturday.

You started feeling at home again. 

As your eyes drifted to the former winter soldier readjusting flowers in your vase, you started to think that  maybe home didn't mean a place. Maybe home, to you, was a person.

Each morning he made you coffee, handing you a mug without a word. He offered to help with laundry. Slowly, he started moving his things here. His clothes. His toothbrush. His shoes.

He didn’t hover, but he was always around, as if he could tell when the walls began to feel like they were closing in. Sometimes, he’d catch you staring out the window, lost in thought, and he’d nudge you gently. Other times, he’d suggest small things to keep you anchored—a walk around the block, a stop at the corner store for groceries, or a quiet evening watching old movies. 

Today, you had trailed your fingers on his jaw, looking at the spot you had punched him in your sleep several days ago. You were amazed at how the bruise that formed was no longer there. Guess it made sense— super soldier healing and all. 

If only the bruises in your mind healed that quickly.

The nightmares didn’t vanish, but they started to lose their edge. When they came, they didn’t feel quite as suffocating, partly because when you’d wake, he’d be there.

He stayed in the guest room most nights, but if you needed him, he’d be there without question, laying with you until morning.

He tried to act as if he was happy with this being casual, being platonic. 

Sure.

Sunday.

Today, you found yourselves on the couch after a long day of training. Bucky had brought over a couple of old records he’d picked up from his storage room, and you both took turns picking the next one to play. 

At one point, you caught him watching you. 

When you looked over, he didn’t look away, didn’t try to hide the way he was studying your how your eyes lingered on his. 

After a moment, Bucky’s expression grew thoughtful.

“You know, that nightmare you keep having... with the concrete ?” He paused, meeting your eyes, weighing whether he should continue. “That’s actually what happened during the mission.”

You felt your chest tighten. "What do you mean?"

“I was part of the rescue team that went in to get you out.” He took a steadying breath. “I was the one who found you underneath the rubble.”

“You… saved me,” you whispered, trying to piece everything together. “I must’ve hit my head before you got there. I think I— I’ve lost them by then..”

He nodded, “You said you see me in your dreams sometimes,” His voice softened. “I was probably the first person you saw after hitting your head.”

Oh.

Bucky had been your first new memory in four years, the first face you’d seen after the darkness. All the quiet pull you’d felt toward him suddenly made sense. 

The strange safety you felt with Bucky—finally made sense. For once, something made sense.

It’s been so fucking long since anything made sense.

Tears slid down your cheeks, slow at first, then everything spilled over. 

The sobs came hard. When your shoulders shook, Bucky pulled you into his arms without hesitation. His hand moved gently along your back as the record skipped quietly in the background. 

He didn’t say a word. He just held you, knowing how much you needed this release. 

When the tears finally eased, you managed a weak, watery laugh. “So,” you joked. “I basically imprinted on you like a little gosling.”

He chuckled. “Lucky me.”

Monday.

The museum was unusually quiet, just the soft hum of ventilation and the muffled steps of a few wandering visitors. Maybe the laugh of a couple school kids pointing at the Homo Erectus display. 

You said hi to Alex before making your way in. 

You and Yelena moved through the halls. She had suggested the museum for your post-training catch-up today, knowing how familiar this place was to you. 

As you strolled through the Ancient Greek exhibit, you pointed at a sculpture that caught your attention.

"That's Mnemosyne," you said, "The goddess of memory."

Yelena looked at the statue with a curious squint. “There’s actually one for that?”

You nodded, feeling a faint sense of purpose as you explained. “In Orphism, which is this really interesting ancient Greek tradition, they believed the newly dead would drink from the River Lethe, which would make them forget their past lives. But if you drank from the river of memory—Mnemosyne—you’d remember everything and be free from the cycle of reincarnation.”

She turned to you, giving a small, almost mischievous smile. “And here you are, teaching me about memory after you’ve lost four years of it. Irony’s got a sense of humour.”

You chuckled, though the joke stung. “Drinking from Mnemosyne’s river would be pretty useful right about now.” Your tone was light, but the longing was unmistakable.

Yelena looked back at the statue. “Maybe you’re not supposed to get those years back,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe… they’re not important.”

There was a comfort in her words, as if forgetting allowed you to live in the present. To be new. To be whoever you decided you wanted to be.

After a while, you both settled on a bench in a quieter part of the gallery. The moment felt calm, with only the gaze of painted portraits and ancient relics to overhear you. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” you started, the words slipping out quietly. “It’s about Bucky.”

Her brow lifted slightly, leaning in. “Oh?”

“He’s been staying with me.” You took a deep breath. “Sometimes he stays in my room. He’s been helping me regulate my nightmares.”

Yelena listened, her features falling as she gave you a small nod of encouragement.

"I think…” you trailed off, heart fluttering nervously, “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

Yelena’s expression stayed steady, but her eyes sharpened a bit. She nodded, but her face was unreadable.

“I’m happy for you,” she said, though there was a hint of hesitation that you didn’t catch. “You sound… at peace with him.”

Relief washed over you in waves. Yelena’s support mattered to you in ways you didn’t quite understand.

“I feel safe with him,” you admitted, a smile spreading across your face. “I don’t know how to tell him yet, but… it’s just nice to feel… something real.”

She reached across, giving your hand a small squeeze. “You deserve to feel safe.” 

Her fingers lingered hesitantly before she let go.

An edge flicked behind Yelena’s eyes, a tension you couldn’t quite place. You thought it was just worry, the way she’d been looking out for you ever since everything went blank. 

But her mind was piecing together things she knew about Bucky that you’d forgotten— that she wasn’t sure you were ready to hear.

As you shared more— about how Bucky had held you through the worst of your nightmares, how he stayed without ever asking anything in return— she listened. 

She didn’t want to shatter the peace you’d found, not when you were finally beginning to reclaim your life. 

Still, she knew there were parts of Bucky that could change everything if they came to light.

She had thought, naively, that Bucky would tell you. Maybe he was just waiting for the right moment

But the way you spoke about him made it clear he wouldn’t.

Wednesday.

Yelena found Sam in the gym, his back to her as he worked through the last of his reps. 

Sam took a seat on the bench, ready to hear her out. 

She didn’t waste any time. She said your name, voice barely above a whisper.

Sam knew Yelena was protective of you, especially now, after everything you’d been through. "Go on," he coaxed.

Yelena’s hands clenched into fists. 

"She’s falling in love with Barnes, Sam." Her voice wavered, and she looked away for a second, like the thought of you being hurt was something she couldn’t bear. "But she doesn’t know what he was like before."

Sam’s shoulders slumped.

“I know,” he started. “But I don’t think he’s just pretending to care."

“But she doesn’t know.” Yelena’s voice cracked. "She doesn’t know he’s… he’s just trying to undo the damage he caused in the first place. I can’t let her fall for someone who’s hiding her own past from her." She took a shaky breath, blinking back the tears. 

You were the first person who came as close as a sister to her since Natasha... and losing the last four years you had together had been harder on her than she'd like to admit. Losing you to grief, losing your trust? That would break Yelena.  "She deserves the whole story. She deserves a choice.”

“It’s not that simple.” Sam looked away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I saw him. In the hospital, before she woke up. He was there, holding her hand, talking to her for days as if she could hear. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t let her be alone."

Bucky had faced what she couldn’t bring herself to — he’d seen you at your lowest, at the brink of death. When Yelena first heard what had happened, she had locked herself to waste away in her apartment, sinking to the floor as sobs destroyed her body. 

She couldn’t go to see you— how could she?

She couldn’t bring herself to see even a hint of bruising on you. Couldn’t bear to witness the blood pooling on your head, the cuts on your limbs.

Hearing Sam tell her what happened to you had reminded her of losing Natasha.

The fear had paralyzed her. She couldn’t bear to see you unconscious, clinging to life by a fragile thread.

She hadn’t been there then, but Bucky had.

"It doesn’t change what he’s hiding.” She murmured, barely audible. “If he really cares about her, then he should be brave enough to tell her the truth.” Her voice trembled. “If she finds out he’s only with her to make up for his mistakes, to… to fix some guilt inside him, it’ll destroy her.”

No one’s allowed to destroy her, she thought, not after everything she had been through. 

“It's not just guilt.” Sam insisted. "Every time I see them together, it doesn’t look like he’s trying to atone. I know Bucky much better than you do. It looks like he’d finally realised what he’d— that he’d… that he loves her.”

No, Yelena thought. She knew he always had feelings for you but there's no way he loves you more than I do. 

She’d been there first; she knew you better than anyone, knew the sound of your laughter and the quiet sadness you tried to hide. She had loved you, the way she’d loved Natasha—like family. You were her sister in every way but blood.

But now, watching the way you talked about Bucky, the way he seemed to carry your pain as if it were his own... 

Maybe he did love you more, in ways she couldn’t, in ways she’d never even considered. 

“He still needs to tell her the truth,” her voice was much softer now,  though no less fierce. “He owes her that much."

“Then talk to him,” Sam nodded. “Make him see what’s at stake.”

“And if he doesn’t tell her?” Yelena blinked. "I can’t watch her fall apart. Not again."

“Neither can I.” Sam’s voice strained as he packed his things into his duffel bag, "But let him try. Give him more time.”

Time.

Yelena knew better than most people that time was just a cruel joke running circles around mortals like her.

And she was getting impatient.

-to be continued…

Taglist : @hzdhrtss @irisk12 @tayyyystan @seventeen-x @lomlbuckybarnes 

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @avatarofthetimelords @bckynatt @winchestert101 @zemosprincesa 

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@jason-todd-fangirl-14 @vickie5446

[fear-is-truth]

༉‧₊˚. j’s note. for @redskies-7. turned out a bit longer than i expected but only because i adored your request … warnings: mature content. 18+. mastūrbation. fingēring

peter had been on high alert ever since the mission that left you with nasty gashes across your abdomen. the memory of you collapsing, blood soaking through your suit, haunted him, and he’d been an absolute wreck ever since. even now, with bandages wrapped snug around your waist and most of the pain fading to a dull ache, he still treated you like you were on death’s doorstep. “okay, careful, careful,” he’d mutter every time you so much as shifted on the bed. peter would zip over in a blur, fluffing pillows and checking the bandages even when you insisted you were fine.

you had tried to hint that you wanted his attention for something other than fussing over you. but to your disappointment, he’d just shake his head, “uh, no can do, babe,” he’d say, practically vibrating with nervous energy. “you need rest, and i’m, like, a terrible influence when it comes to resting. last thing i wanna do is, y’know, make things worse.”

but you were feeling better. really. and you were tired of the distance he was forcing between you, however well-intentioned it was. late one night, you woke up feeling restless, perhaps a little too desperate. the ache of your injuries having dulled considerably, transferring to a different kind of ache, slow and burning between your thighs. peter was sprawled next to you, completely conked out and snoring softly. wincing, you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position before slipping your fingers under the waistline of your panties.

you squirmed at the much-needed contact, hoping it would be enough to take the edge off. you bit your lip, trying to stifle any moans… but your small fingers were far from enough to ease some of the pent-up frustration from two long weeks of forced rest. but then, just as you finally felt the tickle of a weak orgasm, you heard your boyfriend let out a low, sleepy groan.

“hey… what’s goin’ on?” you turned your head to see him blinking himself awake, silver hair sticking up in all directions. as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, they landed on the guilty look on your face, how your hands were conveniently under the covers. a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he put two and two together.

“wait a sec…” he raised an eyebrow, looking far too pleased with himself. “are you…?” heat flooded your cheeks, and you froze, pulling the blanket up over your face in embarrassment. “peter, it’s nothing. just… go back to sleep,” you mumbled, but he only chuckled, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“wait, are you…?” he asked, a hint of poorly concealed amusement in his voice. “no way.” he stretched out his arms and looked at you, that amused smirk making your face go even hotter. “you couldn’t just ask me for help?”“peter,” you whispered, mortified, pulling the blanket up in an attempt to hide your face.

“just—g-go back to sleep.”

“nah, can’t do that now,” he gently tugged the blanket back down to see your face. his smile turned downright devious. “you’re over here trying to go solo when i’m literally right here?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “babe, i’m almost offended. i thought we were supposed to be a team.”

you buried your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed. but, to your surprise, the teasing stopped immediately; off like a switch. peter nudged your hands away gently, looking at you with earnest concern.

“look,” he began, softer this time, “i know you’re still healing, but—i’ll get back in the groove real quick. don’t want you wearing yourself out, right?” peter flexed his fingers, stretching them out with a flourish, and then, his whole hand started to tremble, no that wasn’t the right word — his hand was vibrating. there was a slight blur to it, as his fingers quivered like a hummingbird’s wings, the movement almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

“…or did you forget my specialty?” he wiggled his eyebrows. you giggled despite yourself, embarrassment starting to melt away as peter braced himself with one forearm planted carefully by your side, making sure not to press into your bandaged torso. “so… what do you say?” he whispered into your ear, “let me take care of you?”

and just like that, you were granted something you’d been denied for weeks. peter had always prided himself on his unique style of “multitasking”. thanks to his ADHD, focusing on one thing wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but with you, he was hell-bent on trying. besides, he was pretty sure he could handle it—especially since you’d made it clear you really needed him right now.

“mghm ohmygod yes, right there, right there–”

he let out a little chuckle at your enthusiasm, lips brushing along your jawline as his vibrating fingers plunged in and out of you. “you know i kept telling myself, ‘peter, you gotta be responsible, let her heal,’” his voice dropped, almost like he was letting you in on some big secret.

“but… c’mon, you’re you. how was i supposed to stay away?” he moved to press a kiss just below your ear, letting out a little dramatic sigh. normally, you would’ve been slightly annoyed with peter’s chattiness, but his voice now possessed a soothing quality that served the purpose to ground you… and distract you from the lewd squelches that reached your ears.

“fuck, you’re, like, my kryptonite. i missed you like this,” your fingers were tangled in his hair, threading through the soft, messy silver strands, and as you gave a gentle tug, peter let out a low hum of contentment. his eyelids fluttered for a second, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a lazy grin as his lips continued their slow, lazy journey from your collarbone down to the soft curve of your breast.

“mhm, keep doin’ that baby. you’re so good fer me.”

he mumbled against your skin, swirling his tongue around your rock-hard nipple while sinking in knuckle-deep. reduced to nothing but a writhing mess in the sheets, the only response that sounded from you was a strained whimper, the moment you felt his fingers curl against your sweet spot. the glorious stretch made you realise just how much you were missing out in this two weeks of abstinence, and how hard it must’ve been for peter as well—judging by the way his hips were rocking against the mattress.

“should’ve woken me up sooner—would’ve saved you a whole lotta trouble.” another moan slipped past your lips as peter began to thrust his fingers with more vigour, reaching deeper than you never thought possible while simultaneously maintaining that delicious vibration in his fingertips. the heat that had been building in the pit of your stomach was fuelled with each stroke of his thumb on your on your clit, and within seconds, a mind-numbing pleasure set your entire bloodstream ablaze. as you rode out your orgasm, peter’s other hand slid over yours, lacing your fingers together.

as your breathing finally started to even out, you glanced over at your boyfriend, who was watching you with that soft, starry-eyed look, his teeth catching on his bottom lip. he caught you staring and gave you a small, lopsided smile, reaching over to brush a few stray hairs from your face. “feelin’ better?” you nodded yes, still catching your breath, and leaned forward to press a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, feeling the heat of his erection poke against your abdomen.

when you pulled back, you whispered, “i wanna do something for you, too. with you, to be exact.”

his eyes widened, that hint of pink deepening in his cheeks. for a second, he just stared, looking torn, like he was debating with himself. you could practically see the gears turning in his head, weighing his worry against his own need for you. then peter sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to muster his usual bravado.“okay, fine,” he finally relented, shifting to move on top of you carefully, his hand bracing by your side to avoid putting any pressure on your bandaged torso. “but if i hurt you—or if you start bleeding again—i’m… i’m wrapping you up in so much gauze you won’t be able to move,”

a/n: sorry if this sounded ooc… it’s been a while since i’ve written for peter </3

 fear-is-truth

[norrisleclercf1]

i fear we are in dire need of a part 2 to this fic 😭😭

https://www.tumblr.com/norrisleclercf1/763607869452124160/possessive-toto-with-engineer-reader-lets?source=share

A/N: Sorry this took so long lovelies

Walking into the paddock you knew the whispers, but as you red the Ferrari red you knew it was a problem, but people didn't talk about the wearing Ferrari they mainly talked about the lack of wedding ring on your finger. When you woke all those months ago after leaving yours and Toto's hotel room, you stayed up with Lewis all night talking about your options.

After the race you arrived home to a packet of papers and your name on them and Toto sitting at the end of the table. You both just stared at one another when you slowly slipped your ring off, his face contorting in pain watching you do it. Sitting it down you moved like a ghost through your home and gathered your things and never looked back.

Now, almost 6 months later, here you are walking through the Bahrain paddock, the Mercedes people staring as you walked to the second motorhome, bright red and flashy. You never thought you'd be wearing Ferrari, hell you thought you'd wear papaya before this, but I guess life comes at you fast.

You freeze seeing Toto walking past talking to George who spots you and waves but stops when Toto grows quit and turns to stone almost instantly seeing you and turns right back around choosing to ignore you, which half the paddock notices but chooses not to speak on it.

"Hey," Lewis comes over and bumps your shoulder smiling brightly as he looks flawless, almost untouchable in the red. "Hi," You whisper and feel ice lick your spine as you turn seeing your husband stare at you with such cold rage you almost shiver at his look. "Come on, we've got a meeting," Lewis pulls you away as you look back seeing Toto still stare at you, but not with anger this time.

Heartbreak.

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

Sighing you trudge yourself back to the hotel, exhaustion wrapping around you as you try your best to stay awake. You knew Ferrari would be demanding but not like this, you haven't been this tired since-, well it doesn't matter no, you wouldn't be falling asleep in his arms tonight anyways.

Just....just for a second, your mind tells you as your eyes fall shut, the elevator dings as it opens you blink slowly as you see Toto there and you both stare at one another but he says nothing as he steps in and says nothing. Fuck, you're so tired you feel like crying almost at the situation. Toto says nothing typing away at his phone as the elevator comes to a jumping halt almost making you lose balance.

"Ba-" Toto catches himself and slams his mouth shut as you catch yourself and sigh rubbing your eyes. "You stupid fucking piece of JUNK METAL!" You scream kicking the door as Toto stares at you. "Are you alright?" He asks softly, and you turn almost making him flinch with how hot your

"Am I alright? Alright? No I'm not alright Troger, I'm anything but alright. I'm exhausted, bone exhausted, to the point I want to cry, and I'll I'm trying to do is go up to my hotel room and sleep, but instead I'm stuck in the elevator with my ex husband WHO DIDN'T EVEN THE HAVE THE BALLS TO ASK ME FOR A DIVORCE!" You scream as Toto stares at you.

"I never asked for a divorce, we're not divorced," Toto says as you take deep breaths, "What," You breath as Toto stares at you. "We're not divorced, Y/n, why would you think that?" Toto asks, putting up his phone up you notice him wearing his wedding ring, but something around his neck catches your attention.

"The papers, the papers on the kitchen table, when I came home," You stammer, and Toto's eyes grow wide. "Those weren't divorce papers they were your contract Ferrari, I...I wanted to negotiate how we should break your Mercedes contract, I never wanted a divorce," Toto whispers and you stare at him.

"What?" You whisper, running your hands down your face as Toto just stares. "The papers were your Ferrari contract, not our divorce papers. Do you honestly, think I'd let you go over this? Are you fucking serious?" Toto seethes, voice almost shaking the elevator

"I just....I just thought,-" Toto cuts you off, "You thought, you thought I'd divorce you over this? Did you truly question my love for you like that? I lost...we lost months of our marriage because of a fucking MISUNDERSTANDING?" Toto seethes and you step back as he steps forward and yanks your ring off his neck. "You ever, and I mean ever take this ring off you better hope it's because I'm dead," He whispers and you nod your head slowly.

"Okay," You whisper as Toto takes your finger and slides the ring on. "Never again," He whispers, "And don't think you'll go to that pathetic hotel room, we'll go to our suite," He grumbles as the elevator kicks back on as you just nod, loving the weight on your finger

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

Tagging those that wanted a part 2:

@imchiarashelby1 @annewithaneofthegreengable @alliseeiscarlossainz @lovecarsgoingvroom @newlifeforus @1800-love-me @honkyscats @pear-1206 @colorfulbluebirddeer @geniusalpaca @wertyuizxcvbnm

[seoltzuki]

Delivery!

momo x fem reader

fluff

Weekly Momo deliveries and you just want a little sweet treat!

a/n: based from a true story (I didn’t kiss the delivery person though, but we are very good friends now) wait kiss? oops spoiler! also this used to be on my ao3

hbd momo ily!

Every Monday, you wait for the knock on your door, signaling the arrival of your weekly supply of fresh fruits and vegetables from the local farmers market. You’d heard about the service from Tzuyu, who swore by the convenience and quality.

Before your first delivery, you had already made a little request in the online order form: “send a sweet treat, surprise me.” It was a tiny change to break up your predictable and mundane schedule.

Just a little something new!

Your first meeting with Momo, the delivery person, was something. You opened the door, eyes still crusty from sleep, and there she was: rolled-up sleeves, a half-up hairdo, and cute glasses framing her face.

“Oh, hey! Didn’t expect—uh, someone like y-”

She flashed a smile that could rival the sun. “Hi! I’m Momo! Hope the surprise is a good one!” she said, raising the bag higher to your face, her muscles working and showing.

You caught a glimpse in the bag: a pack of gummies poking out the top. “This is exactly what I needed. Thank you so much!”

Momo chuckled and shrugged. “Glad you like it! I’ll be sure to keep them coming. Have a nice day!”

With that, she left, but you couldn’t stop smiling. From that Monday on, your exchanges became something you looked forward to. Momo started adding a different treat each time, a little touch of sweet mixed into your groceries.

Mondays slowly turned into mini-breaks from life’s usual grind, and Momo would show up each week with her easygoing charm. You’d chat about the weather, exchange stories from your week, and laugh over the oddities that ended up in the produce bag. Once, Momo brought you an alien-looking fruit neither of you could identify, sparking a lively debate over how one might even begin to eat it.

One Monday, Momo didn’t show up. Instead, her replacement named Jihyo knocked on your door. And of course you asked,

“Momo doing okay?”

“She’s fine, just a bit under the weather,” Jihyo replied with a smile. “But she wanted to make sure I didn’t skip your sweet.” She handed over your bag, complete with a box of chocolates and a handwritten note: “Caught a cold. I’m fine—don’t worry. And here’s the weekly treat ;)”

In that moment, you realized it wasn’t just about the fruits and sweets anymore—it was more. The connection Momo had brought to each delivery, her attention, her care...

Her, her, her.

Each Monday after that was a little brighter. One week, Momo handed you a box of caramels, a playful gleam in her eye. “Going for extra sugar today. Hope you’re up for it.”

You giggled, “I trust your judgment. You're somehow always right.”

Momo grinned. “Hey, maybe I have a hidden talent for matching snacks to people’s moods. Or just giving the right treat to the prettiest person I know.”

Your small talk gradually gave way to deeper conversations. She’d share stories from the market—the quirky customers, the hectic mornings, the occasional disasters with fresh produce. You found yourself opening up too, laughing about the oddest things in your week, discussing favorite candies and ridiculous fruit facts.

One rainy Monday, she handed over the bag with a selection of comfort sweets: chocolates, marshmallows, the works. “Rainy days call for the good stuff,” she said simply, and you couldn’t help but feel seen.

Loved, maybe?

Another Monday, Momo told you about a local festival coming up. “They’ve got some amazing desserts there. Maybe you’d want to check it out?”

It sounded like a nice change of pace. So of course you agreed.

And of course you'd say yes to the cutest girl you've ever met.

When the day of the festival came, you ended up meeting Momo there, navigating the crowded stalls and sampling all the treats. At one point, she turned to you. “You know, it feels like I’ve known you forever, and it’s only been, what, a few months?”

You nodded. “Honestly, Mondays have started feeling like a whole separate world. All because of you Momo, thank you.” you whispered, linking your pinky with hers.

You didn't miss the way she blushed.

In the weeks that followed, you found yourself waiting eagerly for those Monday and the possibility of other shared moments beyond the doorstep. Then, one sunny Monday, Momo brought you a small potted plant.

“I thought your place could use a touch of green. Plus, plants are like natural mood boosters, right?”

Touched, you accepted the gift, realizing it was more than just a plant—it symbolized something more.

One day, as you sat together on your cozy couch, Momo turned to you with a soft smile. “You know, you’ve made my Mondays something to look forward to. It’s not just about the deliveries—it’s about you.”

You felt a flutter in your chest and met Momo's gaze. She looked so sickeningly cute, her glasses slightly crooked, her cheeks flushed red and puffed up.

The words hung in the air with hearts beating faster and butterflies flying harder.

Before you could respond, Momo’s hand gently cupped your cheek, her warm fingers brushing against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. She leaned in slowly, her lips meeting yours—soft, warm, tentative at first, then pressing with a little more certainty. The gentle pressure of her mouth against yours deepened as you both leaned closer, letting the moment linger.

When she pulled back, Momo gave you a small, shy smile, her nose scrunching up in that familiar way. “I really like you, Y/N.”

Her other hand slipped to the back of your neck, her fingertips tracing lightly along your skin, pulling you closer as her lips found yours again. This kiss was warm, unhurried.

“I like you so much.”

Another kiss.

Mondays would then never be the same, they’d be even better.

[whatifitookalilnap]

Oh I'm so mad I accidentally deleted the ask and can't even remember who asked for it but it is hilarious so please, have this:

Korra, yawning: I should probably get some sleep, but I just have to finish this stupid-

Yangchen, possessing Korra's body: girl don't even stress, sleep is for the weak I got your back

Korra, now in the Avatar headspace: UHM HOW DID YOU GET IN THERE?????? AND WHY THE HELL AM I OUT HERE?

Yangchen, continuing Korra's work: relax, plenty of the previous Avatar's do a little bit of possession every now again. Or if you're me, it happens all the time

Korra: happens all the- girl what the hell was going on with you when you were alive?

Yangchen: too much, Korra. Way too much

*a few days later*

Korra: *sighs in yearning bisexual as she watches Asami work on her motorcycle*

Kyoshi, possessing Korra's body: seriously, this is getting pathetic

Korra: damn it, not again! And what right do you have to call me pathetic? Didn't you live with your girlfriend for two years straight before finding out she liked you??????

Kyoshi: *uses Korra's body to punch herself in the face*

Korra: OH SO WHEN I AM COMPLETELY CORRECT I GET PUNISHED????

Kyoshi, whisper yelling: shut up short stack, this is about you, not me!

Korra: okay seriously why is everyone dissing me for my height- Kyoshi why are you approaching Asami. Stop it. Stop it right now.

Kyoshi: I am doing you a favor, so I'm gonna need you to keep your opinions to yourself

Korra: I hate my life I hate my life I hate my life I hate my li-

Kyoshi, using Korra's body to lean against the wall: hey Asami, want to go on a date with me?

Asami, blushing brightly: oh- well- I- yeahthatsoundsgreat!

Kyoshi: no need to thank me Korra, I did this more for me than for you. It was getting hard to watch.

[errorryx]

melodrama

read on ao3 | wild life, grumbo, 1.1k words

“I don’t like that one bit!” Mumbo tells him. “I’m all the friend that you need.”

And that’s when Grian gets an idea. A horrible, wonderful idea.

—

So maybe he had goals in mind. Maybe he had plans. Maybe he wanted this season to be something completely different from what it’s becoming. None of that matters anymore, because Grian’s self-control is shot to hell the second he hears those words. He should know better by now than to have faith in himself.

Here’s what matters now: Mumbo is Grian’s and Grian’s is his, to an extent that makes it hard to care about anything else. And Grian desperately wants to see how far Mumbo will go to keep it that way.

The wildcard ending early is the best excuse he could have hoped for. He goes back home with Mumbo and Skizz for the night, then sneaks out as loudly and obviously as he dares. Skizz could sleep through a hurricane, but Grian knows Mumbo will hear him. He doesn’t have to look back to know that Mumbo is watching as he slips out the front door.

Mumbo follows him up the cherry stairs. He’s making an effort to be quiet, but Grian can still hear soft footsteps behind him.

On top of the mountain, a red Scar awaits him. He’s sound asleep, but he’s still so very Scar, snoring softly, eyelids fluttering, one arm curled protectively around Jimmy beside him. There’s a part of Grian that wants to be in Jimmy’s place, or even Scar’s, but it’s not enough to lose sight of his objective. It’s not enough to forget the furious tension from the man standing behind him.

“I knew it,” Mumbo hisses, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are trying to leave us.”

He seems to be trying not to disturb the sleeping trio in front of Grian. But as always, Mumbo is careful but not careful enough. Lizzie twitches immediately, and Scar shifts in his sleep only moments after.

Grian turns around, not even bothering to feign surprise. “Shh,” he whispers back. “You’ll wake them up.”

“Fine,” Mumbo says, and stomps closer to grab Grian by the hem of his shirt. All the blood rushes to Grian’s head as Mumbo drags him away, past the giant parrots and halfway down the mountain. “There. Now explain yourself.”

He keeps a tight grip on Grian’s sweater, as if that’s enough to keep Grian somewhere he doesn’t want to be. It’s a good thing for Mumbo that Grian’s exactly where he wants to be right now.

“I just wanted to talk to Scar about something,” Grian says innocently. He doesn’t try to shake Mumbo off or push him away, just lets him do what he wants. “I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss about it.”

“You had plenty of time to talk to Scar all day,” Mumbo huffs. “The only reason to wait until the middle of the night is if you’re trying to ditch us.”

“So you really meant it, then.”

“Meant what?”

“You told me you didn’t want me to have other friends, remember?”

“And clearly I was right,” Mumbo says, “because apparently, your definition of ‘having friends’ means sneaking off in the middle of the night behind my back. Who knows what you would have done if I hadn’t caught you.”

“Who knows,” Grian echoes. “Certainly not me.” He’s not even lying; he didn’t plan on saying anything to Scar. He correctly assumed that Mumbo would stop him before that point.

Mumbo’s eyes narrow. “Don’t lie. You’re up to something, I know it.”

“Up to something? That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

“Just tell me the truth,” Mumbo says. “We’re supposed to be a team, Grian!”

Grian shrugs, unimpressed. “You want to know the real reason I went to visit Scar?”

“Yes, obviously.”

“It was just to get your attention. I wanted to see you freak out on me.”

Mumbo’s expression goes from anger to complete bafflement. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Really? You don’t get it?” Grian sighs at Mumbo’s blank stare. “Let go of me already and I’ll tell you.”

To his surprise, Mumbo listens. Now free to do as he pleases, Grian explains himself in the easiest way he can think of—he takes a few steps back and lunges, latching onto Mumbo with all four limbs.

It’s a close thing; Mumbo very nearly topples over. Grian folds his legs around Mumbo’s waist and rests his head on Mumbo’s shoulder, speaking softly in his ear. ���It’s because I like when you’re being awful, you spoon.”

“You do?”

“Of course! I do it all the time, don’t I? I wouldn’t dish it out if I couldn’t take it.”

“Yes you would,” Mumbo says. “Repeatedly. Habitually, even.”

Grian sticks out his tongue at him, even though he knows Mumbo won’t be able to see it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You really like it, though?” Mumbo asks him. “I thought for sure you were getting sick of me.”

“Then why keep doing it?”

This question stumps him for a bit. Finally, Mumbo splutters out, “I suppose once I got started, I didn’t know how to stop.”

Grian can’t do anything but laugh at this answer. “See? Now you know how it feels!”

“It felt so natural,” Mumbo says. He’s starting to sound ashamed, and Grian can’t have that. “I didn’t even question it. Something must be wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Grian insists, leaning back to look Mumbo in the eyes. He has to wrap both hands around the back of Mumbo’s neck to do it, so he tries not to squeeze very hard. “In fact, I think you should get worse.”

“Well, I think you’re a terrible influence on me.”

“I think you like it.”

“I do,” Mumbo says, clearly distressed by this fact. “It’s horrible. This is not how we win a death game, Grian!”

Part of Grian wants to tell him that he’ll try his best to help Mumbo win, but he isn’t in the business of giving out false hope. Another part of him wants to try and convince Mumbo that winning isn’t worth the effort, but that approach could easily backfire. He’s left with only one option in the end, the same option as always.

Deny, deflect, distract. Keep the game-within-a-game going. Never leave time to stop and rethink.

“We could burn down the parrots tomorrow,” Grian suggests. “Kill some dark greens. Kick Skizz out of the group. Whatever you want.”

“I like the sound of all those things,” Mumbo says. “But I really only want one thing.”

Grian laughs. “Don’t worry,” he tells Mumbo. “It’s already yours.”

—

if you read this all the way through and enjoyed, please consider reblogging!

[dadbodbuck]

does the swallow dream of flying?

Rating: G | WC: 1.6k | Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Summary:

Tommy calls Eddie after he breaks up with Buck. Eddie has some choice words for him. Coda for 8x06.

{ Read it here on Ao3! }

OR read below!

“Eddie,” Tommy says, voice hoarse on the other end of the line. He sounds—if not drunk, then so heartbroken it sounds like inebriation. “I wanted to—I’m calling to say goodbye.”

Eddie’s not quite sure if he means it the way he thinks he does, but his stomach almost falls out through the soles of his feet anyway. He sits bolt upright in bed, carefully extricating himself away from Buck, who’s doing his best impression of a endoparasite (“A parasite that lives on the skin of its host, Eddie, it’s really fascinating stuff—”) and somehow latched onto Eddie’s waist with an iron grip while also being dead asleep.

What little vestiges of sleep had been clinging to him fall completely away as he steps into his own hallway, quietly hissing, “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I mean—at home?” Tommy says, confused, and okay, yeah, he’s definitely slurring his words a little, “Where else would I be?”

Eddie sighs and drags a hand over his face. “Are you going to be safe? Do I need to call someone?”

“No! No, it’s not like that,” Tommy assures him, “Sorry, I should have clarified. I’ll be okay. This is just… this is it. For us. Since Ev—since Buck and I broke up.”

“From what I heard, you’re the one who broke up with him,” Eddie huffs, “Or did I just spend the last three hours getting snot on my nice white shirt for a mutual thing?”

“This is what I mean!” Tommy insists, “He’s your best friend. I’m—I know I don’t rank that high. I just… fuck, I really enjoyed spending time with you these past six months. It’ll—it’ll always be,” a rough, shaky breath, “I’ll remember it fondly.”

Eddie feels a shocking flare of irritation, and it leads him out onto his back patio, so he knows he won’t wake Buck up. “What the fuck happened, man?”

“I had—I had to end it,” Tommy says, with a shake in his voice like a motorcycle’s death wobble, “It wasn’t going to last. If I didn’t pull the plug it would have broken me. I didn’t want to—I didn’t want it to get to the point where either one of us would get our hearts broken.”

“Really? Because from where I’m sitting, neither one of you sound especially put together right now,” Eddie positively seethes, “He’s fucking gutted, Kinard. He told me—” (“I didn’t know if I loved him this morning, and then he called me Buck and I felt sick. What—what else could it be?”) “—well, he told me a lot that, frankly, I don’t think you should hear from anyone but him. And you don’t even know what you did to him because you ran! You didn’t even try—”

“Please stop,” Tommy says, sounding smaller than Eddie has ever heard him, “It’s… it’s better this way.”

“Better for who?” Eddie snaps.

“For him!” Tommy insists, “For both of us, but especially for him. I’m not the forever guy. I’m not his forever guy, and I’m not yours, either. I just want… I want a clean break. I—I want—”

There’s a sniffle, a choked-off sob, and Tommy says, “I just want to be left alone. It would hurt less if people would just leave me the fuck alone.”

“That’s a shitty excuse, and you know it,” Eddie accuses, “Tommy, listen. I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, I’m saying this because—despite the fact that you’re apparently the biggest idiot I’ve ever met—I care about you. I care about you outside of your relationship to Buck. Or did you forget the fact that you were my friend before you were his boyfriend?”

“So, what,” Tommy says, irritation seeping into his voice, “You want to keep talking to me? I know how that goes. You’ll text me every once in a while, we won’t hang out if Buck’s going to be there, so you’ll lose interest and our fun trips and sparring sessions will be fewer and further between, and it’ll hurt. It’ll hurt worse than this. Why do you think I’m doing this, Eddie? I’m doing this because it’s the only way I can keep myself sane.

“You want to know why? You want to know why I broke up with him? Because I woke up the morning of our anniversary and realized I was falling in love with him. I haven’t been able to eat. I haven’t been able to sleep. I—I realized I would let him do anything to me, and that’s not something I ever want to feel again. So I couldn’t. There—there’s your fucking answer. I broke up with him because a little heartbreak is better than ever letting myself get hurt like that ever again.”

The words kind of prickle at some sense in the back of Eddie’s brain. The anger fades a little, and into something a lot more like concern. “Hurt like what, Tommy?”

“I don’t—I don’t know how to tell someone no once they’re in my life like that,” Tommy confesses through gritted teeth, “Maybe it’s my dad’s fault, maybe Don’t Ask Don’t Tell’s fault, maybe it’s just me. Every relationship I’ve ever been in has ended in me making the same mistake. I stayed too long, I let them—I let them believe I wanted to marry them, or I let them take out their anger on me, or I—I—other stuff. Evan—Buck doesn’t deserve that.”

“You’re right,” Eddie acquiesces, “He doesn’t. He deserves a partner who can communicate openly with him. Which you had been doing. You’re capable of being open, Tommy. You did it before.”

Tommy pauses on the other end of the line. “I—I don’t know what to do, Eddie.”

“Did you want to break up with him?” Eddie presses.

“No,” Tommy says, easy as breathing, “Of course not. I want him around for the rest of my life. But that’s… selfish.”

“And breaking up with him because you don’t want to talk through something difficult and scary is so altruistic,” Eddie counters, “You know, there’s this thing Buck says about love—you don’t find it, you make it. I think he heard it on a scene we were at years ago. From this old gay couple, been together for decades and decades.”

Tommy’s quiet on the other end, and then Eddie hears the hitch of his breath. Tommy is sobbing, silent and restrained, but so hard the exhalation of breath sounds nearly painful.

(“I’m starting to think the curse wasn’t just Billy Boils. Maybe it’s me—I mean, I move into Abby’s place, and she leaves me. I pick out an apartment with Ali, and she leaves me. Taylor moves in, and she leaves me. And now this? I can’t… Eddie, I can’t keep doing this. I’m—maybe I’m just the guy who’s good for a fun time, not a long time. I—what am I doing wrong?”

“Buck, you’re not doing anything wrong. I’m so sorry.”

“Do you think—do you think you could ever fall in love with me?”

“I think if I wasn’t this way, I already would have.”)

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, Tommy,” Eddie says, “But I really think you should talk to him. Tell him where your head’s at. Buck’s really good at—at understanding why you hurt him, and he’s even better at forgiving.”

“I—I—I can’t—”

“You can,” Eddie insists, “So pull yourself together, do some box breathing, get some sleep, and come over to my house tomorrow. I’ll make my hangover cure. I’ll lock the doors if I have to.”

Tommy’s quiet, which Eddie interprets as a fully-blown panic attack.

“If you don’t, I will call Athena Grant,” Eddie threatens, “You don’t want to know the things she’s willing to do for Buck. I’ve seen her break at least three laws with my own eyes.”

This, at least, gets a laugh out of Tommy. “Okay—Jesus, yeah. What time?”

“If you’re not over here by nine I’m sending the cavalry,” Eddie says primly, “And bring flowers. Nobody’s ever gotten Buck flowers before.”

Tommy takes a slow, shaky breath out. “Thanks, Eddie. You didn’t—you didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“Everyone always says Buck has a habit of worming his way into your heart, but nobody ever talks about me,” Eddie grins, “You’re stuck with me now, Kinard. Rain or shine. Even when you’re the stupidest motherfucker on the planet.”

“I’ll text you tomorrow when I’m on my way,” Tommy says, “I’ll—I should go eat some carbs and drink water now.”

“Take care of yourself, man,” Eddie says, “And don’t you ever call me to say goodbye again. Or break up with Buck like that. Also—call him Evan. It’s fucking weird to hear you call him Buck.”

“Okay,” Tommy acquiesces, quiet. “Damn. I was so worried about falling in love with Evan that I didn’t even realize I already loved you.”

“I’m sneaky like that,” Eddie says, “I’ll see you tomorrow—or else.”

(The next day, Tommy knocks on the door at nine sharp. He hasn’t changed out of his pajamas, his hair is a mess, he looks too gaunt and the bags under his eyes could fit a small country. But he’s holding a bouquet of wildflowers.

“I got this one because they’re the same color as your eyes,” Tommy says to Buck, who stands in the living room with his mouth ajar.

“What’s going on right now?” Buck says, eyes darting over to Eddie suspiciously.

“I’m going on a walk,” Eddie says, putting his sunglasses on his forehead and twisting at the hips to pop his back, “Don’t fuck on any of my furniture.”)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Partners in Crime 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, allusions to abuse including body-shaming, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Lee Bodecker

Summary: you’re left reeling after your divorce but the chaos has only begun. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Wakey, wakey,” the voice draws you up from the sludge. You pry your eyelids apart and groan. 

You’re still nestled against Lee but you can see something past him, a fleshy blur. The man at your side squeezes you and rolls onto his back. He sighs and rubs his eyes. 

“You gonna sleep all day or we gonna get down to it?” Lloyd asks. 

You squeak as you spy his bare chest and stomach, blocking out the rest as you cover your face with your hand. Lee snarls and untangles from you as he sits up. “Goddamn, Hansen, put some fucking clothes on.” 

“Don’t be jealous,” Lloyd snickers. “You like the way it hangs?” 

“Piss off,” the slap of flesh makes you flinch and Lloyd yelps. 

“Damn it, that was too close,” he exclaims. 

“Next time I won’t miss,” Lee’s weight leaves the bed. “Cover up.” 

A huff and a rustle follow and you dare to peek out between your fingers. Lee comes back to you, in a tank and boxers, holding a fluffy pink robe open. “Come on, darling. We gotta get the day started.” 

Lloyd’s behind him in a black silk robe, smoothing his mustache with his fingers. He looks agitated with the bristly hairs. You sit up, quaking, unsure what else to do but what you’re told. You got too used to waking up alone and peaceful. Yet, you can’t say what’s worse, them or your ex. 

“We’ll get ya washed up and dressed, then we’ll sit down and eat,” Lee slings his arm across your shoulders. He seems even bigger than the day before. They both do. “How’s that sound?” 

“Good,” you eke out. What you know is that obedience is safe. Any sign of resistance only got you worse. 

He keeps you wrapped up and Lloyd grumbles as he leads you past, “we really gonna drag this out?” 

“We have a plan,” Lee insists. “You agreed. We wanna take care of her. Give her what she never had. Stop being a jerk.” 

“I’m not. I'm just saying. Rip the bandaid off,” Lloyd turns and follows. 

You look over your shoulder as he crosses his arms, his blue eyes sharp as he squints back at you. Of the two, he makes you more nervous. You know better than to trust in self-control, but Lee it a bit less scary. 

You turn your head straight and take in the hallway. The house is nice. The walls are half-panel, half floral. An old-fashioned sort of domesticity. The white trim is clean and elegant and the runner rug is delicate patterned in a complementary pattern. 

Lee turns you through a door with a crystal knob. You fold your hands together as he ushers you into the bathroom. The porcelain shine and the counter is the same ivory as the trim in the hallway.

There’s an oval mirror over the sink basin, a shelf of neatly folded towels in various sizes mounted on the wall. The bath mat is a blue rose, the walls a lighter shade of the same, and a clawfoot tub stands near the far wall.  

You take it all in. In any other circumstance, you would be in awe. You can only curl into yourself as you try to disappear. This can’t be real. These men can’t be either. 

“You go on, get yourself in,” Lee detaches and steps forward to twist on the faucet. He bends with a grunt to put the stopper in place. “Got everything you need. Soaps, salts, bombs.” 

Your eyes scan the shelf along the tub and all the colourful bottles, jars, and trays. You slowly come forward and peer down into the lapping water. Lee backs up as you sense Lloyd lingering behind. 

“Want me keep an eye on her?” Lloyd slithers. “Don’t want her to fall in.” 

“Go get her something to wear,” Lee commands. 

“No, you,” the other argues. 

“Don’t be ornery,” Lee rebukes. 

“No. You.” Lloyd repeats more tersely than before. 

There’s a sigh, “we’ll both go.” Lee insists. 

You stay as you are. You wait until the door shuts before you move. You look down at the silk night gown and the cool air sets prickles across your skin. There’s a click behind you. They’ve locked you in. As nice as they are trying to be, they don’t trust. You’re still their prisoner. 

You brace your head as you quiver. How could this happen to you? Why? How did they know who you are? How to find you? You don’t quite believe everything they’ve told you. They seem to know more about you than they should. 

Maybe it’s your ex-husband. He can’t torture you so he sent these two to do so. How cruel can he be? 

When the door opens again, you flinch. You rub your arms and shiver.

“Now, don’t let the thing overflow,” Lee chides. “Get in, honey.” 

Lloyd hums in agreement. You glance back at them. You want them to leave but you don’t think they will. You face the tub again and shudder. 

You close your eyes. You're back in the bedroom you once shared with your husband. Alone. You’re in a towel, sifting through your closet, looking for something to wear to his work thing. You unwrap the cotton from around you and hear a scoff. 

“Sixteen,” your husband’s voice crawls across the room as he appears in the doorway. “Sixteen dimples in your ass. Last time I counted, was only twelve.” 

Your eyes snap open as the balmy air roils over the tub. Your nose tingle hotly. The two strange men are going to see all your dimples and marks and scars. You know they did last night but you were too terrified to think about it. And this is different. It’s so bright in here. 

You scrunch the satin in your fists and lift it slowly. You sniffle as you unveil yourself to the room. To them. You tense and swoop the fabric over your head and drop it. You shake as you step forward and angle your leg over the edge of the tub. 

You try to ignore your audience and the gristly noises wafting from them. Are they disgusted by you? Disappointed? You turn and lower yourself into the hot water. Their silhouettes loom beside you. 

“Ain’t that nice?” Lee asks. “You just relax.” 

“Hard to relax fully-cocked,” Lloyd snickers. 

“Shut up,” Lee snaps and slaps his arm. “Get outta here.” 

“Stop telling me what to do.” 

“We’re both gonna leave her be,” Lee insists. You stare at the tiled wall, humiliated. The way they talk about you like you’re not there, like you’re a thing. “Let her get situated then we can get her settled in.” 

“You’re a fucking softie, Bodecker,” Lloyd sneers. 

“And you’re a pain in my ass,” he shoves the man back, “stop cussin' and come on.” 

[trilobitepunch]

~~~

As much as Donatello loved his elder brother, there were times where having one as big, strong, and protective as Raphael demanded some significant drawbacks.

"Rescue like a BOSS! "

This moment, limbs bound all the way to his wrists and ankles, ignominiously slung over Raphael's shoulder as blaster bolts peppered the hallway behind them, was one of those times.

"For the last time, this is not a rescue!"

"You're tied up in the middle of a rebellion lair!" Raph exclaimed, shouting to be heard over the sizzle of blaster bolts and the crack of crumbling concrete. "How does this not count?!"

"Firstly, I would hardly deign to call this second-rate hovel a lair. I mean, they barely have a functioning network, and their data scrambler was so pitiful I could have cracked it in my sleep! Secondly, I elected to allow a temporary restriction of my motor faculties to increase the probability our success by seventy percent."

"Ya wha now?"

"Oh my neutrons, I let them tie me up!"

"Well that was stupid! Why'd ya do that?!"

"To lull them into a fake sense of ease in order to illicit greater quantities of quality intelligence of course. Also, three incoming on your six!"

Donnie ducked in close to Raph as blaster bolts sang overhead, wincing as a chunk of rubble slammed into his bound elbows. Raph snarled, the sound echoing menacingly within the restricted confines of the hallway.

"Hang a left. There's a defensible room," Donnie gasped, and Raph followed his direction without further question. Before long the durasteel door was slamming closed behind them, cutting out the chaos as beyond the rebels floundered and failed to coordinate through the virus he'd implanted within their communications array.

"Did you really have ta let them turn you into a sausage?" Raph huffed, gently lowering Donnie to sit against the wall. "You know hand-to-hand Don, I know ya do! I taught ya!"

"It's hard to extract information through a mouthful of broken teeth Raphael," Donnie huffed, fighting back the beginnings of a pout as his big brother pulled out a small vibro blade. "Besides, that would leave no fun for you."

"Awwwww, you thought of me? I'm touched, brainiac."

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, then hissed as the ropes snapped away, returning blood flow to his limbs in a shower of pins and needles.

"Easy."

Raph's big hands carefully eased his arms down to his sides, surprisingly deft fingers massaging blood back into his palms and fingers until the tingling stopped.

"It's fine Raph, you don't have to-"

"I want ta Dee. I'm your big brother. Looking out for you is my job. So let me do my job, okay?"

"I… you…could help me up? I do not think my equilibrium is yet up to the task," Donnie acquiesced, smiling ever so slightly as Raph's face brightened.

"You got it buddy! Alright, up we go!"

Another hiss squeaked past his lips as Raph carefully set him on his feet. Dull pain flashed across his lower back, throbbing a low threat that more would come should he attempt to move before his body agreed to.

"Ya good?"

"Mmmmm. Just a minute," he sighed, ignoring the growing shouts beyond the door in favor of leaning into his taller brother's embrace. A greedy part of him drank in the feeling of encompassing warmth, reveling in the elusive sense of safety only Raph could provide. For these stolen moments there was not a power in the cosmos that could harm him. Not with Raph around.

"… getting kinda noisy out there," Raph rumbled eventually, reluctance in every line of his body as he slowly pulled back. "You ready, or do ya need a lil longer?"

"No," he replied, stepping back. He ruthlessness clamped down on the small, childish part of him that wailed yes and shoved it deep into the box within his mind. "I'm ready."

Blood red light painted the room in harsh contrast as two blades hummed to life.

"You take out those at the door. I'll tidy up the loose ends."

----------

I apologize for my awful writing... I don't remember how this scenario came up but I've been wanting to draw it for some time now. I also wanted to include @colibrie 's original text for it! How do these nerds go from goofy to scary in 0 seconds?

[rubyin-wonderland]

Cupcake

opla!Sanji x gn!reader

Summary: During some late night baking, your flirty crewmate decides to keep you company.

WC: 1.9k

Warnings/tags: traditionally feminine adjectives (pretty, gorgeous, beautiful) but no gender is explicitly stated, fluff, self deprecation, lots of compliments, self indulgent

Note: first attempt at a Sanji fic because branching out is important

Night has overtaken the ship. It's calm, and stars blink in the sky, twinkling for the world to see. The soft rocking of the water has lulled nearly everyone aboard into a sweet, lovely sleep.

You were the only one awake, settled in the kitchen, a pile of various ingredients surrounding you as you prepared to bake. There was no reason behind your choice of late night activity. No anniversary or debt in need of repaying or any special event that required baked goods. It was just a calm enough night, and you couldn't sleep, so it seemed like a proper course of action.

As you began to measure out the ingredients, separating them into bowls for organisation, you heard a creak, followed by footsteps. Somebody else was awake, and was coming closer.

You watched as the door opened, revealing Sanji, yawning, before noticing you, and stopping dead in his tracks, surprised at the sight of you, hard at work this late at night.

"Well, good morning." He gave you a quick smile before stretching a little bit. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Kind of." You watch as he approaches you, inspecting the counter and your little process. "What are you doing?"

"Making cupcakes." You answered simply, dropping the flour into the bowl, a cloud of white rising as the flour settled.

"So late at night?" "Maybe I'm really early. How about you?"

He smiled. "I was going to get a glass of water." You gestured behind you. "Go on, I won't stop you."

He passed by you to grab a glass. "So, baking all alone?"

"Yeah. I find it relaxes me." He nodded, then took a careful step towards the door. "Well, if I'm bothering you-"

"You're not."

The words came out quick, and you had hoped you hadn't sounded desperate. You doubted the chef could ever be a bother to you, and you truly hoped he would stay to accompany you while you worked.

"Oh. Well then, could I stay? And watch you bake?" He moved back to the side of the island, standing opposite you, looking hopeful that you would say yes to his request. "Only if you promise to stay out of the way." You said, trying to push back a little after your small outburst earlier.

He nodded and pulled up a chair, sitting down to watch you work. You moved swiftly, pouring the ingredients into their proper bowls, making sure the measurements were just right.

"So," he broke the silence between you. "Do you bake often?"

"I used to. It was quite the hobby back at home, but I haven't had the chance to do it here yet." Sanji nodded. "What do you like to make?"

You smiled, thinking back to the copious recipes you had backed up in your brain. "Where do I start? Cookies, breads, pastries, pies, anything really. And cakes." You gestured at your handiwork. "Cakes, of course."

"Are they your favourite to make?" Sanji asked. "Oh yeah. Used to spend all day decorating them with my mom. Icing them with my favourite colours and absolutely drenching them with sprinkles." You smiled at the memory. "Sounds nice." Sanji smiled back. "She'd like you." You said suddenly.

"She would?" He asked, a little taken aback.

The look on his face told you that you might have messed up again, possibly treading a little too close to the knowledge that you liked him. But it was too late to backpedal.

"Yeah. She'd probably call you a sweetie, invite you to dinner, and insist that you leave the house with a pair of newly knit socks."

"Your mother sounds lovely." You nodded. "She is. I hope she's not lonely without me to keep her company." "I'm sure the people of your village take good care of her." Sanji comforted.

"I'm sure too. Maybe I'll write her a letter sometime. Maybe she'll even write back. One can hope."

"I'm sure she'd be happy to see you sharing your talents with your crew."

You nodded your head in thanks. "Oh, you flatter me."

"You are quite worth it." He smiled at you, something you had taken a liking to. He reminded you a little of what you imagined princes looked like in fairy tales. Handsome, charming.

The conversation went cold as you continued working, focused on the process ahead of you.

You stirred the batter, carefully adding the dry ingredients to the mixture, combining the two.

You were focused, making sure not to spill anything as you worked carefully.

"You're really pretty when you're focused."

The words slipped out without warning. Even Sanji seemed a little surprised at his comment. He'd flirted with you before, but it had always been so worked up. An act. Over dramatic and at least to you, unserious.

You had never taken his compliments seriously. At best, you thought he was trying to make you feel better about yourself. You figured it was just an act he put on to humour you, and you enjoyed it, even if it didn't boost your confidence all that much.

Admittedly, you liked Sanji. Far more than any of your other crewmates. If he were to feel the same, you would be delighted, but you were almost entirely sure he wasn't. He also flirted with Nami, and so many others who would likely be much better matches for him.

You could stand having his pity flirts to tide you over while he found someone he truly liked.

However, this was no typical flirt. There was no quick wink or smirk on his face. Just honesty. And that was so unexpected you nearly dropped your bowl.

You managed to set the bowl of dry ingredients down without spillage, trying to calm down the incessant fluttering in your chest.

"I mean, you, uh, I was going to say, I only meant that..." he was unable to say anything coherent. A man with a thousand lines backed up in his brain, suddenly rendered speechless.

You backed away from the counter, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your face. Your jaw went slack as you watched him try to come up with something, anything, to save himself.

"I'm sorry, I should just go." Sanji was as red as a tomato, taking his glass and shuffling towards the door.

"Wait." Your voice commanded him, and he turned around to face you again, looking rather ashamed of himself.

"Did you mean that?" "It just slipped out, don't be uncomfortable, I just-" "You really think I'm pretty?" You didn't believe it, but maybe you could humour him for once.

He almost laughed in disbelief. "Of course I do! Who wouldn't?"

"Plenty of people. Lots of men. And I mean lots." Sanji scoffed. "Forget them. They're nothing but trouble. You're gorgeous."

You could sense it returning. The typical flirting. His overdramatic way of trying to comfort you.

"Oh please, like you haven't been playing with me all this time too." You swatted your hand at him. "You and your over the top flirting, I know what you think of me."

Sanji frowned, confused. "And what do I think of you?"

"Not much. You notice me and don't want to hurt my feelings by ignoring me so you flirt anyways. I know you don't truly think I'm pretty-" he practically gasped at your statement. "-but I promise I don't hold it against you. It's nice that you try to get me to think I'm pretty, but I know I'm not. That's okay. I have other skills."

"How could you possibly think that?" Sanji looked more than horrified. "I have never flirted with anyone I have found less than stunning."

You laughed, getting back to your baking, mixing the dry ingredients with the wet. "There's a first time for everything."

Sanji looked absolutely distraught. "You don't seriously think I say everything I do to you as a joke? As consolation?"

You shrugged. "I mean, yeah? You just always put so much effort into your flirting, I thought it was a joke. I never knew if you meant it or not. I figured you didn't."

He walked forward, looking you in the eye from across the island, trying to convey how truthful he was being.

"I promise you, you are beautiful. Any old fool could see that. You are pretty when you're focused and I have never been more enchanted by someone in my life. And I mean that."

You laughed awkwardly, face still blazing hot. "Okay, you don't have to prove it. You can stop it, Sanji."

He circled the room until he was stood right next to you. The last of the dry ingredients fell into your batter and you set the bowl down, not mixing it yet.

"If you do not believe it tonight, I will tell you tomorrow, and the day after it, and the day after that, for however long it takes for you to believe it."

You chuckled softly. "Okay. I gotta finish these cupcakes." Sanji gently reached out a hand, resting it on your shoulder so that you would look at him.

"You are pretty, whether you believe it or not." You gently shrugged him off, though treasuring the feeling of his hand touching you. "Okay, whatever you say."

The two of you did not speak after that. He returned to his spot on the other side of the island, and the two of you spent the rest of the baking process in silence, until the last batch of cupcakes were removed from the oven.

"I'm gonna get a bit of sleep before the sun rises." You said quietly, waking up your companion, who had been napping on the countertop.

"Of course, cupcake." He said, clearly tired and a little delirious. The mix-up was clear, and yet, it had sounded like a pet name. And you giggled. The second the noise left your mouth, you turned red, and ran from the room, scurrying back to your bedroom to get a few blinks of sleep before the next day's adventures.

When you awoke, you did not feel well rested at all, but at the very least, you could sneak a tasty cupcake in at breakfast, as long as Luffy hadn't found and finished them all as soon as he saw them.

The kitchen was lively with early morning chatter, and you noticed a plate of neatly decorated cupcakes on the counter. Iced with your favourite colour, drizzled in sprinkles. Each one prettier than the last.

You looked over at the chef, who was caught between two pans of scrambled eggs and bacon, trying to see if it was him who had decorated them.

He looked up from his work briefly and smiled at you.

"Good morning cupcake." Your face burned under his eyes. Of course he had heard your giggle, and of course he was holding it against you.

"Did you do this?" You asked, pointing at the cupcakes. "Yes, I'm sorry but I figured you'd like them nice and iced. Like you said earlier. I left most of the rest for you to decorate, if you want."

"I didn't know you knew my favourite colour." You said, picking up a cupcake, admiring it.

"Of course I do. Someone so pretty deserves to have things remembered." You rolled your eyes at his not-so-sneaky attempt at flattering you. "Nice try, Sanji, but I'm not a fool." You took a bite from your cupcake.

He sighed. "I'll have to try harder next time."

"You don't have to do this. I'm fine, I promise you."

"I'm not doing this because I have to, cupcake." He grinned at the flustered look on your face. "I'm doing this because you deserve it."

[kitty6choi]

𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

「 Synopsis」 : It's been a while since you've seen your boyfriend and the last thing you want to do is leave his side.

★Paring: Bf idol! Bang Chan x fem!reader

★Genre: fluff + smut MDNI

★Word Count: 1.3k

★WARNINGS: Foolishness, unprotected sex (Don't do this) nicknames:my love, baby.

A/N: I've been really busy and a bit sad lately so I wrote this to forget my problems for a while lol, so I hope you enjoy it. English is not my first language so sorry if I made a mistake. If you like it please comment and share.

⋆｡˚୨𝖬𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍୧˚｡⋆

The sun had been up for a long time, the noise of the lively city could be heard through the window and you could swear that you ignored some calls just to stay in bed a little longer, but it was inevitable, with the warmth of the sheets and surrounded by the arms of your boyfriend who had returned, everything else could wait.

“Are you awake?” You couldn't help the smile that appeared on your lips when you heard his voice, you had missed him so much.

“It's weird that you see me sleep, you know?” You opened one of your eyes only to see him leaning on one of his arms while he gently caressed your hair.

“I can't help it,” he came closer to leave a kiss on your forehead, “I need to know that you're here, with me.”

You felt your heart beat strongly when you heard his words and you came closer to hug him. Bang Chan was a busy person and it was hard to have to be apart when he had to go to work, but when he came back they didn't waste a second and did everything they hadn't been able to.

Sometimes they would go for walks at night holding hands, they would go to places, eat their favorite food and sometimes they would just lay in bed while enjoying each other's quality. It was like being wrapped in an invisible bubble where only the two of you existed and no one could get in.

“I'm here” you looked into his eyes, you wanted him to know that you were telling the truth, that you were speaking from the bottom of your chest “forever”

Despite the warmth that Bang Chan showed people, you knew that not anyone could get inside, but at that moment from the way he looked at you and smiled at you, you knew that you were already in his heart.

“I love you” you said without being able to avoid it and before he could say anything you kissed him. You melted into the heat of that kiss giving everything of yourself, you were completely in love with him and you knew that your heart belonged completely to him.

Between kisses and small caresses you moved all over the bed until you ended up on top of his body and a shiver ran down your spine when the sheets left your naked body. Bang Chan took your legs and caressed your skin while he looked at you with a combination of desire and admiration.

“You look beautiful just like that”

“I know” you answered mockingly while you moved your hips a little on the bulge you felt under you “I know you love seeing me on top of you” Bang Chan let out a small moan and you felt his hands tighten a little on your thighs.

“Uh huh” his hands moved down your body leaving a warm trail wherever he moved, but you stopped when his hands cupped your breasts. Bang Chan leaned forward a little until he was sitting with you on his lap and he got closer to your face “I love everything about you my love” Your mouths came together again in a warm and slow kiss, full of all the feelings that could not be expressed with words.

You stifled a moan when his hands gently squeezed your breasts and he seemed to notice, but he continued to taste your lips while his fingers hooked onto your nipples. Your hands landed on his strong shoulders and you scratched his skin when he pulled away biting your lip. The desire in your bodies was becoming more and more evident and with the kisses on your neck it was difficult to try to keep your hips still on his lap, but Bang Chan ignored your little movements while he concentrated on passing his mouth over your breasts.

You arched your back, letting his hands support your weight as he ran his tongue over one of your nipples and his teeth grazed your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your fingers tangled in the curly locks of his hair and you closed your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the spiral of sensations.

You moved your hips once more, looking for something to calm the tickling in your pussy, but Bang Chan grabbed your hips tightly, making you stop. You looked at him with a silent plea, and even though he wanted to stop, he couldn't at this point, he was just as needy as you.

“Chanie…” you wrapped your arms around his neck and moved your hips on his cock once more, urging him on. You heard the ragged sigh he let out and moaned when you felt the tip of his cock touch your wet walls until it reached your entrance. You sank in, feeling him slowly fill you up until he hit rock bottom.

“I love you” he said to you when you looked into his eyes.

Time stopped in your little bubble, as he thrust his hips and you felt him leave his load inside you again. Your body was marked by his bites and the traces of your nails were left on his back, his lips were swollen from the long kissing sessions and your legs trembled violently as your mind became clouded only by the pleasure you felt.

“One more” Bang Chan begged in your ear, you could only nod and open your mouth letting out his name. Bang Chan pushed his hips and you wrapped your legs around his waist while his hands moved down your body until they landed on your clit, he moved his fingers in circles making your body shudder and your pussy tighten from the sensation

“I can't take it anymore” you said holding back the tears in your eyes as you felt a wave of pleasure run through your entire body

“Come” you immediately released yourself without being able to stop it and instantly you felt Bang Chan's release spill over your thighs. His body collapsed on top of yours and you stayed still while you both caught your breath. Your hands caressed his hair while his arms surrounded you, it was as if neither of you wanted to move, until you started to feel a little suffocated by his weight.

“Baby… I think I need to breathe a little” Bang Chan moved immediately asking for your forgiveness and separated from you leaving you a void, but he helped you up before going to clean up.

After taking a shower and with clean sheets they lay down again simply enjoying each other’s company. You didn’t know when you fell asleep on his chest, but you woke up with a smile knowing that he was still by your side.

“Did you sleep well?” You nodded moving to look at him and gave him a smile.

Bang Chan took your hand and kissed your fingers, but you noticed that there was something strange in one of them, you moved your hand away and on your ring finger you noticed a ring with a shiny stone, you looked at it very carefully without understanding what was happening until Bang Chan let out a laugh.

“What is this?” you asked nervously and excitedly

“My love… you know that I have loved you from the first moment you entered that place and since then my love for you has only grown, you have supported me and helped me when I needed it and that alone has made me understand how much I want to have you in my life” his words made your heart beat with emotion and you could not control the tears that were accumulating in your eyes “that is why I want to ask you to marry me”

“Yes, of course” you said releasing the tears and hugging him tightly while he laughed and hugged you tightly knowing that he would never let you go.

𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐾𝑆 𝐶𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 ©𝐾𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑦𝟼𝑐𝘩𝑜𝑖 𝑀𝑈𝑆𝑇 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝐵𝐸 𝑃𝐿𝐴𝐺𝐼𝐴𝑅𝐼𝑍𝐸𝐷 𝑂𝑅 𝐶𝑂𝑃𝐼𝐸𝐷

[fluffylino]

spiderman ! hyunjin

a soft little thought i had 🥹🌼

"stop you're distracting me" you whisper, goosebumps rising on your skin. tearing open the seasoning packet and emptying it into the boiling pot of ramen. holding in a ticklish laugh.

his nimble fingertips trail up and down your back.

"pay attention to me then" he drags his voice out. snapping the elastic of your short pants. It makes you jump, turning around to scowl at him.

"aren't you tired?" lightly smacking his covered chest. the skin tight suit textured to touch.

reminding you of how your beloved man was more than just your boyfriend. he was a hero.

he was your hero.

"from swinging all day and saving a couple of people? of course im tired..." hyunjin sighs. leaning towards you. eyes closing in exhaustion.

"...need my girlie to put me to sleep in her arms"

you smile softly. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want that.

"i'll put you to sleep after i finish eating my ramen"

"do you want to...eat some ramyeon?...with me" hyunjin whispers, eyeing you with playfulness. him and his tricks.

resting your palm on his chest and standing on your tiptoes, you gently tie his hair up into a messy ponytail with the hairtie you had kept handy on your wrist.

"take off the suit before you start feeling hot, baby"

distracting him by placing a soft kiss on his nose. he nods. laughing sweetly as his eyelids fluttered cutely.

"i'll sit next to you till you're done eating then...can't sleep without you"

.

.

.

...maybe just maybe im writing a spidie jisung fic in secret...maybe? who knows? definitely not going crazy over sungie as spiderman!

[zaine-m]

the thought of Jayce teaching Viktor how to feel emotions again.

"Jayce, what is this. It feels like my brain is slowed. I do not like this"

"You're probably tired Viktor"

"Oh"

He remembers what it was like being tired before the accident and goes to the coffee machine but Jayce stops him.

"Is this not what you do when you're tired?"

"That's one way to deal with it but I think you should get some sleep. Let's go back to our place"

They head home and after a while of trying to sleep Viktor knocks on Jayce's door.

"I do not think I've been able to sleep"

"mhm? how are you feeling?"

"Like my skin is... harsh. It's unpleasant but not quite pain"

"Oh you're probably cold. The heater in your room never was that good. Come, you can sleep in my bed"

They climb into bed together, Viktor remembers times they've done that before when he was cold or needed someone to hold him on days he was in a lot of pain. They lay there for a while before Viktor speaks again.

"Jayce there is this pulse. A rhythm. I don't know what to call it"

"When was the last time you felt it?"

"When I awoke I think? from the accident. It was unpleasant then, it feels good now"

"You were cold then?"

"No, that isn't it"

"Does it remind you of anything you felt before the accident"

Viktor didn't really talk about his feeling before then so even though he can pull up some memories associated with this feeling that doesn't help him to name it.

"It was always around you, I think. I remember feeling it often when we were working, or also not working? I don't quiet remember"

"hmm, let's save this for the morning, okay?"

he watches Jayce nod off while letting his mind slowly run through memories associated with this emotion until he comes up with one that has a word associated with it.

He's laying down on a couch in a small run down room, a woman places a warm wet towel over his head and hold his hand. He coughs, "thank you, mom" "feel better soon sweetheart, I love you, okay?" "I love you too"

"Love... " he says in realization. He wraps his arms around a fast asleep Jayce. "I... love you"