#i shouldn’t lift anything even remotely heavy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

postalenha · 3 years

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nothing % jaemin

pairing: ceohusband!jaemin x female reader genre: fluff!! word count: 1.25k words requested: yes!! synopsis: as you and your husband move into your new home, you can’t help but reminisce the past thinking how much hard work and sacrifices it had to take to make things the way they are. warnings: not much, just kissing.

trying to picture whatever awaits, your husband jaemin softly removed the blindfold as you adjust with the sudden brightness lit upon you.

not able to form words, your jaw drops as you look up at a huge two story mansion. you didn't even notice the tears rolling down your cheek until jaemin wipes them away, "why are you crying?"

"nothing." you sniff, "i'm just happy for us." remembering the days when you tried to maximize the space of the apartment you both shared for at least three years.

summer would be too hot for the air condition doesn't work while winter would be too cold as you both cannot afford to have extra cash to even buy a heater.

he held your hand, "shall we go in?" you both walked into the home of your dreams. the house have the high ceiling so high that jaemin wouldn't have to slouch all the time just to prevent bumping his head for the nth time.

"we should look around before the moving truck comes." jaemin suggested so you roamed around your new home. "wow, there are a lot of rooms huh." you commented.

"yes." he cheekily said, "so we wouldn't be cramped whenever we have some friends over." you both laughed at his statement, "remember when we invited jeno and the others because my start up was a success?"

remembering how all of them slept while sitting because there wasn't any beds would never fail to crack you up, "haechan was so angry because he woke up with a stiff neck!" he cracked out laughing as you remember haechan not being able to tilt his head for days.

"those were the good old days i miss." he sighed ay you two looked at the mountain view from this huge window. "but i love our life now." he said holding your cheeks before leaning in for a kiss.

hearing some footsteps slowly approaching, you pull away from the kiss. smiling as you see your husband pout out of disbelief, "good afternoon, mr and mrs na." the trucker greeted.

"good afternoon." your husband said, "are our furniture here?" he asked. the trucker immediately nodded, "they're currently moving them. would you like to tell us where should we place them?"

the both of you followed him go down the stairs, to look after the furniture being placed. time flies faster than you think it does and both of you are left with so much box to unpack.

"do you think we should continue tomorrow?" you asked your husband who's busy sorting the boxes. "you can rest, i'll just finish seperating my files and other stuff."

"i'll help you out then." you came to him and started lifting heavy boxes, "oh- y/n!" your husband shouts as he runs after you, "you shouldn't lift heavy boxes."

you safely put the box on the countertop before looking at him, "what do you mean? i can lift it just fine." he crossed his arms at you." i know you're strong. but that's not something for you to do, okay?" he softly said before putting a strand of your hair to the back of your ear.

"what do you want me to do then?" you crossed your arms back t him, "just sit on the sofa." he suggested, "really? you want me to sit while you sweat your ass there?" sarcastically turning down his suggestion.

"i don't care. just sit there and be pretty." he blurted. that comment instantly zipped your mouth, you can never win over na jaemin with this type of things so you just obeyed him.

throwing yourself to the brand new couch, you cannot help but hum in satisfaction because it probably is the softest couch you've ever sat on. "try the remote." he hinted.

you giggle as you reach for the remote, really excited to watch some drama you grew puzzled as the remote doesn't have numbers or anything familiar.

it seems unusual so you asked your husband, "are you sure this is the remote for our tv? why doesn't it have any number?" you hear him chuckle from afar before answering, "just press a random button! i promise you it won't explode."

being the obedient girl that you are, you press a button and the sofa suddenly started moving, "ah!" you shout out of fear. "are you okay?" jaemin asked as he run to you.

"the couch is haunted!" you told him, still scared of what happened. "someone probably died there." he ticked his tongue.

"wait what?!" you exclaimed, "what? you were the one who suggested that we should buy second hand furniture?" he teasingly said. seeing how frightened you are he pulled you into his chest.

"no, i'm just kidding." he said, "that couch is brand new. newest design, i think? this remote-" he took the remote out of the floor, "this is for the couch." he then started clicking some buttons.

"it's adjustable to your liking, so if the person sitting have long legs, there would be enough space for them." he demos as you just quietly watch the couch move.

"it also have this massage feature, so we can relax while we watch tv. isn't that fantastic?!" he exclaimed, you slap his chest saying "it would've been fantastic if you told me beforehand!"

"but it was fun to see your reaction!" he teased, "it was fun, huh?" you looked at him, "na jaemin you should run for your life!" you shout as you chase him around your huge home.

"okay! i surrender!" he shout in defeat, with his hands on the air. stopping a little too late you bump onto him resulting to the two of you falling on the ground.

you both laugh as he pulls you to rest your head on his arm, "home." he called followed by a sudden sound he commanded, "open the ceiling."

you flinch a little as your ceiling slowly opens, revealing the beautiful night sky filled with the stars. the wind followed and as they come in, you feel the cold breeze of it through your skin.

jaemin held you tighter, "first, a moving sofa. now a whole house assistant?" you pointed out, "we don't need any of this, jaemin."

"i know, i only need you." he looked at you, "but is it bad that i want to give you all the things we weren't able to have?" recalling the time when jaemin called you saying his mom kicked him out of their house.

all of that because he disagreed on becoming a lawyer. he was known to be the disgrace of their family for choosing his own interests over theirs.

you both struggled to find a place where the two of you can be productive. you on your work, and him on starting an engineering firm. ending up in such a tiny apartment wasn't helpful either. but it wasn't like you had any other choice.

jaemin had to go through so much. getting declined and ignored by so many company, he decided to make his own. starting with a small start up, everything ended so well to him being a ceo and his friends being the co-owners.

"you deserve all of this." he said, kissing your forehead, "i wouldn't be here if you didn't stay by my side. never forgetting to tell me that everything's going to be okay."

burying your head on his chest, you whisper "well, i am committed to make sure the dreams we have come true."

"and we made it."

happy birthday to our best boy jaemin!!

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ibis-gt · 3 years

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Can we see the story of the gulliver's hanahaki first kiss?? Kiss, and then shrink so hard you're hanging off those lips you just kissed!

ough ok you got me Thinkin. just shy of 1500 words under the cut.

It was day two of their relationship, and Luther was already tired of taking it slow.

That was something they’d established on day one. Once Cam had finally puzzled out why Luther kept shrinking around him - his insanely embarrassing crush on Cam, of course - he’d laughed out loud, which only hurt a little, and then asked Luther out, which more than made up for it. The date hadn’t been anything spectacular by others’ standards, just a night in with popcorn and a movie, but it had been absolutely magical for Luther to finally be with the man of his dreams and not have to try to hide how deeply attracted to Cam he was. But having his feelings reciprocated hadn’t stopped his strange affliction, and when Cam leaned in for a good night kiss, all he got was air. Luther, now of a height with Cam’s ankles, had once again wished he’d just shrink away into nothing to spare himself the embarrassment.

So, the agreement. They’d take everything slow until Luther got used to it and wouldn’t end up tiny just because his boyfriend smiled at him. Cam was patient and willing to wait. Luther, however, had been bottling up his feelings since they’d first met, and was just about at the end of his rope. He wanted romance, he wanted passion, he wanted to be swept off his feet, and anyway being the size of a Polly Pocket made that last bit easier.

The two of them were sitting on Cam’s couch together watching some mindless soap drama at the end of a long day at work. They sat on opposite sides of the couch, since just a touch from Cam could make Luther lose a few inches. Luther took a deep breath to steady his nerves. It was time to make his move. He began to scoot closer to Cam, closing the gap between them. If Cam noticed, he didn’t react. Slowly but surely, Luther inched over until he was nearly touching Cam. He paused, did a breathing exercise to help slow his racing heart, and then leaned over until his side was flush with Cam’s, his head leaning on Cam’s shoulder. He held that pose for a moment, willing himself with all his might to stay full size. A moment passed… another… and he seemed to be all there. He let out a happy sign and relaxed into the touch, all the tension flooding out of him. His face was heating up, sure, and his heart was still going a mile a minute, but he seemed to be in control enough that he wasn’t panicking and activating the shrinking. So far, so good.

Cam seemed to notice Luther’s lack of shrinkage as well, and shifted so that his arm was draped over Luther’s shoulders. Uh oh. Okay, okay, Luther could handle this, no problem. This was just some nice romantic intimacy, nothing too heavy, they were just fine. Then Cam laughed at some inane moment on the show, and his laughter shook his body and Luther with it. The sheer proximity hit Luther all at once, and he felt himself begin to shrink. Cam’s arm grew heavier on his shoulders as he fought for control. No, no no, no no no, you’re fine, you can handle this, he thought desperately. You’re just leaning on your boyfriend. Get a grip.

But then came the nail in his coffin. Cam, noticing Luther begin to shrink, tried to do the supportive thing. He rubbed Luther’s back with his hand and looked down at him with that beautiful face, eyebrows drawn up adorably in an expression of concern, and asked in a soft voice, “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

That was it. Luther’s heart jumped into his throat and the bottom fell out of his stomach and in a moment he was a mere eight inches tall, thankfully saved from nudity by the newly-designed jumpsuit that would shrink and grow with him. He slid down into the indent Cam made in the couch cushion and buried his face in his hands.

“Oh, shoot, I’m sorry,” Cam said, far above him. “I didn’t mean to - shoot.” He picked up the remote and clicked the TV off, then reached down and laid his hand next to Luther. “You wanna come up here?”

Luther climbed into the offered palm and held on as Cam carefully lifted him up to eye height. “Sorry,” Luther sighed. “I guess I rushed it a little too much. I just… I want to be able to be with you like… like a normal person. I don’t care if I shrink, really! I’m just tired of holding back.”

Cam’s worried expression smoothed into a fond smile. He stroked Luther’s back with one finger. “I’m fine with whatever you’re comfortable with,” Cam said. “If you want to do normal couple things, we can do normal couple things. I just thought you might want to avoid this as much as possible.”

“Well, I do, I don’t want to be a burden to you all the time, but…” Luther trailed off, looking down and away. He started in surprise as Cam put a fingertip to his chin and tilted it up so that he could look Luther in the eyes.

“You’re not a burden to me. You never are.” Cam hesitated, then continued on. “Honestly… and maybe I shouldn’t say it, because I’m sure it’s not fun for you, but I like you when you’re all tiny… I like you at any size, but you’re especially cute like this, you know? Fitting in the palm of my hand and all… it’s nice.”

Luther gaped, seeing a flush of red start to creep across Cam’s cheeks. He was so certain that his change in size could only ever be an annoyance, a pain, something to be dealt with, he hadn’t even considered that someone might find it nice.

“Really?” Luther whispered. For a moment, he was scared Cam would say no, that it had all been a joke, and throw him out of the apartment. It was ridiculous, absurd, Cam would never do that, but just for a moment that fear gripped him like a vice.

“Really,” Cam assured him, and the fear dissolved like cotton candy in water.

“Oh,” Luther said, and it was all he could say for a moment, so he said it again. “Oh.” Then a desire welled up in him, and he said, “Kiss me?”

Cam gave a short, incredulous laugh. “Um, I want to, but… how?”

“Just…” Luther leant forward on Cam’s hand, shifting so that he sat on his knees with his hands on the edge of Cam’s palm. His eyes focused on Cam’s lips. “Just kiss me. My face, I guess. Whole thing’s fine.”

“Okay… here goes. Tell me if it’s too much?” Luther nodded, so Cam brought him closer hesitantly. Luther reached out and put his hands on either side of Cam’s mouth, and Cam gently pressed his lips against Luther’s face.

It was immediately overwhelming, but Luther didn’t care. He didn’t have room to care. He was surrounded by lovely soft warmth, like pressing his face into a pillow. He kissed Cam’s bottom lip as hard as he could, desperate to give back any sensation possible. He knew Cam could feel it, because Cam laughed fondly through his nose, a warm exhalation of breath that tousled Luther’s hair and sent shivers down his spine.

Luther felt himself begin to shrink again.

In his whole life, the smallest he’d ever been was just a hair under three inches tall. The shrinking sensation was so strong that even before he was halfway through, he knew he was about to smash that record. He felt his hands trail down Cam’s cheeks and his bottom lip and grabbed on tight. His legs came up off of Cam’s palm as he dwindled down til he was just dangling off of Cam’s lip, feet kicking in a blind panic, digging his nails into Cam’s lip to keep from falling. His stomach dropped as Cam’s mouth opened, jaw lowering infinitesimally, but enough at Luther’s size to nearly jar him loose from his perch. He buried his face in Cam’s lip, not wanting to see inside that terrifying cavern in front of him.

“Woah,” Cam breathed, and the force of the word hit him like a gale. Luther squeaked in panic. He lost his hold and tumbled backwards, thankfully falling into Cam’s waiting hand. Cam stared in shock down at his itty bitty boyfriend, only an inch tall. Luther stared back up in sheer incomprehension. Cam was so large to him now that he filled Luther’s vision completely.

“Oh, jeez,” Cam murmured, trying to keep his voice quiet, but it still thundered around Luther like the voice of a god. “Maybe we went a little too fast there.”

#writing #cam and luther #gulliver's hanahaki #g/t #giant tiny #gets a little less cute and little more Terrifying towards the end #but once u get under like.... three inches g/t is a horror story in my eyes kasjdlfkjsd #anyway hope u like i wrote it in a frenzied fever and did not proofread <3

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

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ascendance - 03

PAIRING: mob!bucky barnes x reader

WARNINGS: abduction, age gap (reader is 23, bucky is 37)

A/N: it’s short and still not as exciting as it is about to become but we gotta build a ✨ foundation✨ first. hope you enjoy xx

> NEXT CHAPTER | MASTERLIST

Bucky was standing in the kitchen, back leaned against the counter of the kitchen with his eyes on the girl who was currently sat in his couch with a badly bandaged hand. He was never good at first aid, he hadn’t been good at it with his sister and he definitely hadn’t been good with her, yet he thought it would be best than let her bleed out onto her costume which she still hadn’t taken out and that included her wig. He knew what hair looked like, he could see it in the back of his mind from the dark costume room, her hair pushed back into the same hairstyle most of the girls in the opera house had. Yet he also knew that getting out of her costume was the last thing going in her mind despite him not knowing at all what was going on in her head. She just stood in silence, looking at the wall of the TV but the TV was off, despite the fact the remote was next to her.

What was he even supposed to do with her? He couldn’t tie her to the bed or hide her in the basement, he didn’t have a basement. Besides, he didn’t know whenever she’d actually be used as a trading chip so he didn’t know how long he would have to babysit her. How was he even supposed to do John’s bidding if he had to keep an eye on her? It wasn’t like he could leave, she would try to escape. Heck, she’d even try to escape when he was in the apartment. This was a mess, a mess he needed to clean, a mess he didn’t know how to clean.

The door bell was the first sound in that flat for 2 hours and he sighed out of relief he could finally leave and not have to stare at her and her Bambi like stare. Damned Billy.

- She’s a runner. - Bucky said as he opened the door, a stunned Billy walking in like a scared little mouse. - I’ll be gone for two hours. Make sure she’s okay, not bleeding and definitely not escaping.

Billy nodded his head like a bobble doll, standing stiff by the door as Bucky grabbed the keys to his bike and left. Y/N finally looked up, away from the wall and at Billy. He couldn’t be older than her, and if he were, he couldn’t be more than a year or two older than her. He had shaggy hair and eyes which were filled with insecurity and fear yet a facade of strength which he definitely did not have. She should’ve been mad at him, after all he was the one who misunderstood the assignment (whatever it was) and got her hostage. Yet, she merely saw a boy who was scared, perhaps as scared as she was.

- I’m Y/N. - she pipped up as if the two of them were co-workers who were just meeting.

- Billy.

- Is that a nickname or a name ... you know like Billy Bigelow.

- Billy Bigelow’s a wife beater. - he snickered. - My name’s William but they call me Billy.

- Do you like being called Billy? I can call you William if you want.

- Will.

- Pardon?

- I like being called Will but John said it sounds childish. - he clarified, slightly kicking the air like a petulant child.

- I like Will better. - she moved towards the end of the couch, patting the pillow next to her. - Do you wanna sit?

- He doesn’t like it when people sit in his couch.

- Well .. I’m sat in the couch and he didn’t say anything, besides, how would he even know you were sat in the couch.

There wasn’t much she knew about the man who had been overseeing her. She didn’t even knew his name other than the “Soldat” nickname she’d heard John call him. It wasn’t like she particularly cared about knowing him, after all he was the one who was keeping her hostage and he was also the one who had kept her alive. Yet, at this point she wondered if being alive was a faith worse than being dead. How bad is death anyway, she pondered. Maybe it hurts to leave, but it doesn’t hurt to stay dead. She wanted to believe in what he had told her, she wanted to believe that all of this was just a big nightmare, it was just a hiccup in her path. She was gonna go back, she was going back, she had to go back. She had no choice but to go back.

Her eyes lingered on the broken window, covered by a piece of cardboard tapped to the broken glass, a shattering reminder that she had failed at escaping, had failed at leaving. She should’ve fought harder to escape, she should’ve said no when the main soprano asked her for help. She should’ve just ... done what she was hired to do. The mere thought of the opera house made her eyes swell with tears. She had been so close.

- I’m sorry. - Will blurted out, his words causing her to immediately wipe her eyes before the tears could actually roll down. - I screwed up, didn’t mean to ruin your shot.

- That’s ... that’s fine. - she breathed out. - They’re gonna let me go at some point, right? They can’t keep me forever.

- Yeah, eventually someone else will screw up. - he scratched the back of his neck. - It’s nice he didn’t tie you down or handcuff you to the bed.

- It’s a nice ... arrangement, I guess.

- Do you wanna watch Carousel? It’s always rerunning on channel 6.

- Are we allowed to watch TV? If you’re not allowed on the couch, I doubt the TV is a yes.

- He won’t know.

The beginning of the film was bittersweet as it immediately took her back to better days. Back to when she rented her very first flat in New York while a sophomore at Julliard, when she only had her laptop and a few pillows which made the very old studio flat look like a home, she would sit down in the worn out mattress with her laptop and watch old golden age musicals dreaming of the time she would be on stage. The beginning notes of the overture only brought her back to nights when the rain was harshly falling down on the rain and she was sat in her, open books of several opera music theories lightened up by the low blue light of her laptop. She had fought so hard and she was going to fight even harder to get out of this. She was going to be back in those grounds and with heavy, sleep filled eyes, she swore she would get back to the stage.

Bucky parked the bike by the sidewalk, sighing as he realised he was not going to an empty home, the same empty home he had fought for. He liked peace and quiet, he liked to be surrounded by nothing but him and his thoughts yet now he had to come back to some girl staying in his house who was keen on breaking all off his windows. Just what he needed, someone coming into his home to fix the window. How was he going to achieve that?

He opened the door and threw the keys somewhere onto the table near the door. Billy was standing up by the couch, Carousel was playing on the TV and she was sleeping on the couch, surrounded by the fabric of the costume she still hadn’t taken off. Not that she had anything to change into.

- She’s sweet. - Billy rubbed the sole of his shoe against the ground.

- You think all girls are sweet. - Bucky walked to his kitchen, making himself a glass of whiskey. - You old enough to drink, kid?

- I have to drive back home.

- She behaved? - he moved the glass in her direction, eyes lingering a bit too long on her sleeping figure.

- She fell asleep mid the film. Hm ... I’m gonna go. Thanks for everything, Bucky, specially with John.

- You should get going, kid. Your mother and father will worry.

The sound of the closed door left the two of them alone once again. What was he supposed to do with her? How was he even supposed to do his ... his duties if he constantly needed someone to watch her so she doesn’t try to escape? Where is he even supposed to find someone to watch her? Kidnappingvictims babysitting.com? He sighed out of frustration, whipping his head in her direction almost upset she existed; yet, looking at her sleeping form calmed down his features.

He put the glass in the sink, walking to his couch where she was. Somehow he always ended up in tricky situations and this had to be in the top 5 worst decisions. Yet, she didn’t deserve dying, she didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t her fault any of this had happened. She was just at the wrong place, she was just somewhere she shouldn’t have been and Bucky couldn’t blame her for that. He put a hand on the couch and snaked an arm under her figure, lifting her up from the couch and holding her flush against his chest. Her head instinctually fell against his chest, nose nuzzling his black t-shirt.

There was nothing he could do now. In all honesty, he couldn’t think of anyone in his inner circle where she would be at least in safety. The group of people he hanged around weren’t particularly of high moral standards and he wasn’t a saint either, god, he was closer to being the devil than being a saint; yet, he knew things and he knew what awaited her if she had been assigned to anyone else. In his mind all of this would be over soon; either Billy or one of the newbies would screw up and get them in trouble with the police and then John would trade her in so he wouldn’t go to prison. It was only a matter of time.

He laid her down on his bed, pulling the comforter over her and taking a final look at her before exiting the room and taking to the couch. He pulled at the bottom of the furniture, the pillows unfolding to form a small bed which his feet would inevitably fall off, yet they didn’t make any bigger couches which turned into beds and he had never expected to have any company in his flat anyway. He too eventually fell asleep, lit by the low blue light of the TV.

The morning was a harsh reminder for Y/N that this whole situation was not a nightmare but her reality. Her hand pushed her torso off the bed, sleepish eyes looking around as she tried to figure out where she was. She didn’t remember falling asleep in a bed but that didn’t matter because she quickly realised she was alone. She couldn’t hear anything but the ambience sounds coming from the window. She was alone. As that thought registered, she kicked the comforter away from her body and settled her feet to the ground, rushing in silent steps to the door which she opened. Her eyes registered a clear path from where she was to the exit door whose chain was down. She bite on her lip before stepping out of the bedroom.

- Where are you going? - the familiar voice stopped her in her tracks. Y/N considered making a run from it but just as she convinced herself of that idea, he stepped in front of her, standing like a big wall keeping her from freedom. He looked her down, like a small, inoffensive prey. She thought of running once more, but she was smart enough to know he would easily overpower her. - Where are you going?

- Hm ... - think, anything, just think of anything. - The bathroom.

He scoffed, walking forward and towards her but she stepped back every time he got closer until her back hit the door. She stood there, small and wondering what to do as the man whose name she still did not know stood close to her, close enough she could almost feel the permeating heat coming from his body. His gloved fingers pinched her chin, pushing it up so her eyes looked into his. They were blue, a shade of blue she couldn’t really say she’d ever seen and maybe if she were in a different situation, she would’ve even said they were hypnotising. Yet, now, they just bore into hers, as if he was digging into her subconscious. He leaned closer, fingers still holding her chin up.

- Liar. - his voice was deep and husky, deep enough it sounded like a whisper. He let go of her chin, stepping back and returning to the kitchen while she remained against the door. - We had a deal.

- I know.

- Are you trying to get yourself killed, kid? - he asked in a dry voice.

- Don’t call me kid. - she didn’t know what else to say. What could she said after all? - It’s condescending.

- You didn’t answer me, Y/N. - he emphasised her name. It sounded almost wrong for him to be calling her that, yet she guessed it was better than kid. Sure, he was definitely older than her but she wasn’t young enough to be called kid. She couldn’t even recall the last time someone called her kid. - Are you trying to get yourself killed?

- No.

- Then what are you doing?

- I don’t know.

- You need to trust me.

- Why should I? I don’t know you, I don’t even know your name so why should I trust you? For all I know you could be lying to me.

- You think I wanna play babysitting with you? I would much rather have a free home than have you run around in costume. - he glared at her. - And you don’t need to know my name, you need to do what I tell you to do if you wanna come out of this alive.

- Well what if I don’t want to? - she narrowed her eyes.

- You want to fucking die? Is that it? - he sneered. - Because that would’ve saved the fucking headache that you’ve been.

- Maybe you should’ve killed me. You had no problem killing Tommy. - her words were mindless yet filled with some sort of anger. She didn’t realise what she had said until she saw his face.

His facade seemed to drop before his jaw clenched, eyes hardened as he raised his head to look her up and down. She held the knob of the door, ready to open it and escape into the bedroom but he didn’t do anything. He just looked at her, angry before he made a move yet he didn’t walk her direction, he merely opened the fridge to take a water bottle yet that look, that look still remained.

- What do you want from me? - she pried. - I had a life, you know. I had plans and ...

- So did I. You don’t wanna be a kid? Stop acting like one.

- My parents don’t know where I am. - she followed him into the kitchen. - I am their only child and I call them everyday. At least, let me call them, let me tell them I’m safe.

- I can’t, that’s not how things work.

- So what? You’re just gonna keep me here? Forever?

- Trust me, kid, it’s not exactly what I want either. It’s not my choice and it’s definitely not yours.

- I am not gonna stop trying to escape.

- Based on how well you’ve done so far, I wouldn’t hold my breathe.

TAGLIST: @lookiamtrying @buckyswillows @blossomslibrary @juliesland @iloveshawnieboi @unmagically @red-head011

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saintchrollo · 3 years

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so eager to learn more about chrollos past like where’s his parents. or did he just spawn on top a cart in a junkyard

u inspire me nonnie but also yes i want to know ..... whatever it was i know it was hard :(

anyways hi this is in fact a conversations with chrollo stan account i want to pick his brain ... yall have probably been dating-dating for like three months i’d say (thats the longest id go without meeting someone im dating’s parents)

reaching over chrollo’s lap, you pick up the tv remote and pause the show you’re watching. he startles slightly, then immediately removes any emotion from his face when you shift to look at him straight on. chrollo’s arm stays on the back of the couch, watching your movements carefully.

“what’s your relationship like with your parents?”

chrollo blinks once. “come again?”

“your parents. you never talk about them.”

“there’s a reason for that.” chrollo plucks the remote out of your hand. “just as there’s a reason you talk about yours.”

sighing, you card your fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck, twirling some of the strands around your finger.

“well, if you ever want to talk about them you can. even if it’s bad. i know you don’t like talking about things, but sometimes it’s healthy.”

chrollo doesn’t say anything for a moment. his jaw ticks before he sighs. “there’s nothing to discuss.”

tucking some of his hair behind his head, you let out a hum of disbelief. “alright, angel.”

the tv clicks back on.

you sigh and rest your head back on chrollo’s chest. his hand, after a few moments, rests back on your shoulder. he squeezes you for a moment, but doesn’t speak again.

you’re almost asleep. on your stomach, hugging a pillow that’s just a little bit too soft. chrollo lays next to you, on his back, staring at the ceiling. thinking.

“[first],” chrollo whispers in the dark. “are you asleep?”

with a sharp inhale you lift your head and face your head towards him. “no. are you okay?”

chrollo’s hand comes to rest on your back. you shift closer, laying your head on his chest instead. wrapping an arm around him, you settle in. the warmth from chrollo’s heartbeat begins to lull you back to sleep.

“...thinking. i can’t sleep.”

“that’s no good,” you mumble. you smooth your hand over his chest. in your sleepiness, the words just tumble out. “must be hard to sleep when you have so many secrets to keep.”

whatever thoughts chrollo had been having immediately stopped. he blinked once, before looking down at you. had you not just spoken, you could have passed for being asleep. eye closed, breath soft puffs against his chest.

chrollo takes a deep breath. involuntarily, his muscles twitch under your touch as you run your hand down his chest, over his stomach.

“tell me what you’re thinking.”

chrollo’s quiet for a few moments. for a moment, you don’t think he’ll speak. he’d been so quiet since earlier that evening, quieter than he normally got when you asked about his work, about his personal life.

“i don’t think you’ll end up liking the answer,” chrollo finally says.

“if you don’t tell me my tarot cards will,” you lightly threaten, “i like spending time with you, otherwise i wouldn’t spend my time around you. and you are made up of all of these parts you ‘don’t think i’ll like.’ do you see what i’m getting at here?”

“no need to have an attitude,” chrollo frowns.

“i don’t have an attitude. it’s two am.”

“actually, it’s only eleven thirty.”

“oh. that’s pretty early.”

chrollo nods, “it’s alright though.”

“do you know what i mean though?” you ask, circling back to your previous point. “your past is part of you and i like you and you shouldn’t have to worry about telling me things. because, big surprise, i like getting to know you. otherwise, i would not be laying here, half asleep and able to fall asleep without all my comfort items. you aren’t mysterious, you’re just a scorpio with some deep-rooted trauma.”

chrollo is quiet.

“peace and love.” you add on after a beat.

it makes chrollo chuckle, the huff of laughter escaping his attempt at staying melodramatic. you crack open an eye, looking up at him for a moment to see the smile before closing your eyes again. they were so heavy.

“if i tell you, i’d have to kill you.” the phrase is light, easy. chrollo squeezes your hip, and you lean into him, knee sliding over his thigh.

“that’s alright. i’d like to have a mysterious death.”

chrollo thinks again, his fingers trace shapes into you skin. the small movements are the one thing tethering you to consciousness.

“you might not want to see me anymore.” chrollo speaks with such sincerity, with such a belief in his statement. the might feels forced, feels added in to sugarcoat a self-convinced fact.

“are you a mind reader?” you ask.

“no, but i am able to make assumptions.”

it’s annoying enough of a statement to bring you from your sleep. you sit up, rubbing your eye to get the sleep out. “did you see any universe where you making assumptions about me played out well for you.”

when your eyes focus again on chrollo’s face in the darkness, you’re almost drowned in the amount of emotion you suddenly pick up on from his eyes. heavy emotions with no where to go, stirring deep inside of him.

“no,” he says.

“makes an ass out of you and me, right?”

“whatever you say, darling.”

“don’t be patronizing, i’m just trying to help.”

chrollo groans, “love, can we please not do this right now?”

“you’re the one who asked me if i was awake.”

“yes, but then you condemned me.”

“condemn is a strong word,” you state, then lay back down, pulling your blanket back up. “but whatever. i’m not condemning you. i just want to know about you so i can keep falling in love with you. is that too much to ask? merde.”

as you roll over and face your back towards him, a small smile starts to make it’s away to chrollo’s lips, warmth bubbling in his chest. with a deep breath, he pushes the strange feeling down and wraps an arm around your middle, sliding his other so it rests under your neck.

“i’m obsessed with you,” chrollo whispers, taking your hand in his.

you bring his hand to your lips, placing a small kiss against his forefinger. “i know. there’s a lot to be obsessed with.”

chrollo smiles against your shoulder, squeezing your hand. there’s a litany of words stuck in his throat, jumbled up from his thoughts running together.

“goodnight, angel,” you murmur against his hand, holding it close to your chest. “i’ll make you breakfast in the morning for prying.”

humming, chrollo shakes his head. “no need to apologize. can i have one more kiss before you go to sleep?”

rolling over you can’t help the fond smile on your face. cupping chrollo’s cheek, you lean up and give him a soft kiss on the lips and one on his forehead. you tuck yourself under his chin, which he immediately seems to prefer, holding you close and rubbing your back.

#ophelia.txt #nonnie #mailbox #chrollo x reader #ophelia.fic

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vintage-writes · 4 years

Text

Come here, Captain Levi Ackermann x Reader

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

Summary: Getting kidnapped by the Scout Regiment was not on today’s agenda. Levi Ackermann being the one to watch you was an unexpected turn of events. However, don’t be fooled, You’re still in charge.

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Oral (M. receiving) Fem!Dom!Reader, Sub!Levi, Corruption Kink (if you squint).

18+ ONLY

A/N: This was originally just supposed to be fun and then I decided to add some spice.

Word Count: 2 070

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

The streets of Trost were quickly filling up with people. The crowds were letting loose a series of cheers and shouts, all jeering in excitement for the King’s generosity. His decision to open up the royal food supplies to Trost was like a saving grace to the starving.

Or rather, it’s excellent bribery. The king has been desperately trying to garner support from the lower class. This is most definitely due to the rising conflict within the government. Erwin Smith, Commander of the Scout Regiment, has been placed behind bars and will most definitely be executed. Whether or not that would be today or tomorrow, I’m sure they wouldn’t let me know.

Two days ago You approached the higher ups about the arrest of the Scout Regiment. They were uninterested in what You had to say, fully believing that the anomaly known as Eren Jaeger would be the end of humanity. Their fear is driving them forward and the Scouts were apparently plotting to harbour this secret titan power for themselves. You pointed out that that was ridiculous and was immediately slapped for my ‘insubordination’.

Whatever the case. You’re now patrolling around the Trost district. The watchful eyes of a few of your subordinates are keeping you in check as many apparently believe that you’re a step away from chasing after the scouts and pledging my loyalty. All information regarding the situation has been kept away from you, you feel as though you’re being locked up in a cell despite your freedom to walk down a street.

This is ridiculous. A General shouldn’t be monitored by a bunch of recruits. They’ve even confiscated your gun, leaving you vulnerable with nothing but a knife.

You adjust your jacket, the military police insignia sewn proudly onto the back. The Unicorn, the perfect creature for the biggest joke in the military.

Glancing behind your back, you notice that one of your ‘babysitters’ is currently occupying themselves with a lost child. A young boy was tugging on his pants while he awkwardly tried to pull him off.

Perfect.

You duck behind the nearest corner and dart into the alleyway. Your boots thudding gently on the pavement. The thrill of finally dodging the watchdogs was like a fresh breath of air. And then.

“Don’t move”

Of course you would run into the only dumbass in the world willing to rob an MP. A knife’s sharp edge presses at your throat. The hand that grasps it connects to a young boy with blond hair and sharp eyes. Although, despite the fiery look in his eyes your instincts tell you that he wouldn’t follow through with his threat. He quickly grabs a ball of fabric from his pocket and stuffs it into your mouth. You let out an indignant shout but it’s muffled by the cloth, however before You can grab the brat You hear another voice, this time from behind you.

“Lift up your arms.”

Behind you, a heavy metallic object nudges you slightly forward. A Rifle, no doubt.

You slowly raise your arms as you feel the presence shift forward and grab them. You expect him to tie them together but instead he hesitates. It feels as though he is unsure of himself. Instead he brings your arms behind your back and simply holds them.

Well this is certainly awkward.

“You’re coming with us.”, says the blonde in front of me.

You raise your eyebrows at this. Robbing an MP is certainly a bold move but kidnapping is a whole other ball game. Whoever these guys are, they’ve certainly got guts.

About an hour later You’re sitting in a remote part of Town in a stuffy warehouse. Luckily, you’re gagless as it appears no one here has anything to tie my hands together with. After the long faced asshole with a stupid hair cut tossed me into the corner you pulled out the gag and threw it at him. It smacked his head with a wet thud before rolling away. He let out a high pitched wail before vigorously rubbing at the spot, tossing insults at you like they were going out of fashion.

“Oi, Brat!” shouts a rather familiar voice. “Quiet down.”

In walks Captain Levi of the Survey Corps. The pieces begin to click together as you realize what’s going on. Despite the missing Wings of Freedom sigil on everyone’s back, you can tell that you’re looking at the Scout Regiment or more specifically, the Levi Squad.

Humanity’s strongest soldier is currently staring down at you, completely uninterested. You, on the other hand, are very interested to see him. Despite being a relatively strong soldier and Erwin’s right hand, he’s generally rarely seen around the Capital. His appearance has been described as plain but I disagree. His features are sharp and he’s incredibly lean and muscular. His dark eyes never miss a thing, an air of constant alertness surrounds him. He’s certainly the most attractive man you’ve seen by far.

You shift backwards a bit, your back now resting on the table. Two Glasses sit atop the wooden surface, completely empty. Levi notices the slight movement and turns to the two boys.

“Why isn’t she tied up?” he says, face remaining stoic.

“Because I’m not into rope”, You respond dryly.

He sends you a glare before ordering them away to find something suitable to keep you still. You roll your eyes at this before fixing them on Levi. He leans on the locked door, the only other exit besides a window barely small enough to crawl out of three meters above you. His eyes feigning disinterest but any soldier with a brain can tell that he’s watching very closely.

“So-”, You begin to say.

“Shut up.”

Excuse me?

“I thought I was here to answer questions?” you say instead. Why else would they go through all the trouble of kidnapping you?

His eyes study me and you can see he’s contemplating something.

“I figured Daddy’s little girl might have other uses.”

Ohhhh, You get it now, somehow Levi has figured out that one of the King’s dear advisors is your father. Little does he know, that man will likely rather leave me for dead. You couldn’t be a worse leverage. Although the phrase “Daddy’s little girl” coming from those lips have you smirking up at him. How very kinky, Captain.

“Well you know-”

“Quiet”

Oi. Let me speak.

“Captain”, You say with warning.

“General”, he retorts. His voice is surprisingly rough and low.

Who do you think is in charge here Captain? Despite what it may look like, You don’t think he has as much power in this situation as he thinks he does.

You shift forward preparing to stand up. You’re done being stuck in this stuffy place, you need to escape before everyone else comes back. Levi immediately straightens up in front of you. Despite his size, the amount of danger radiating off of him is immense and you don’t have a weapon on hand. The slow sinking feeling that maybe you’ve underestimated him begins to settle in.

“Sit back down. You’re not leaving.”

Reluctantly, you shift back into place. Maybe escaping right now isn’t the best option.

He begins again, this time his voice drops considerably deeper, "If you move one more time, I swear I’ll choke you until you pass out”

His eyes have turned to slits. Suddenly you feel as though you’ve made some kind of mistake. However, despite his pretty face staring angrily into your soul, you feel incredibly excited.

Leaning your head back, your eyes spot the two glasses sitting on the table. You tip your head to make eye contact with him. You hold his gaze. Warning signs flashing in his eyes as you turn your body to face the table. Eyes still locked on his own. You raise your right hand and sweep it across the table, knocking them onto the floor. The glass shatters instantly upon hitting the ground.

The look of surprise on his face sends your heart racing. Eyes widening as his face flushes red. You turn back to face him

“Alright”, You say.

You tilt your head back, looking down your nose at him. You brush your hair away from your neck and continue to stare intently at him.

“Come here, Captain”

He backs away a step. Excellent, you’ve caught him off guard.

“What’s wrong, Captain?” You taunt, “Are you not going to keep your word?”

He straightens up quickly and presses his lips together.

Good. Let him put his mask back on so You can rip it off again. You quickly straighten up and hop onto your feet. Slowly, step by step, you make your way forward, until you stop right in front of him. His eyes burn into yours.

You lift up one hand and bring it to his chin. He exhales sharply. You bring your lips to his ear. Gently breathing in his sweet musky scent.

“Are you not the one in charge here, Captain? Or have you finally remembered that I outrank you?” You breathe against him before moving your head back. His face has completely reddened.

With the hand still on his chin you gently tilt it upwards and apply pressure, effectively pushing him back into the wall.

“As a General, I don’t particularly like taking orders”, You say moving both hands to his shoulders before beginning an achingly slow descent. “I’d rather be the one giving them. Now stand still and be a good boy.”

Both hands finally reach the top of his pants and with a single finger begin to slowly trace the inside, moving across the inside until you reach his pants button. He jerks his hips towards you. He releases a sharp breath as you begin to unbutton each one before opening them. You run your hands back around to his waist and tug them downwards. They softly thump against the floor. You look into his eyes as you drop to your knees, he still hasn’t said or done anything to stop you. Excitement flares within you. The idea of having humanities strongest wrapped around your finger has heat flooding downwards.

You pull away the last layer of clothing separating you from his dick. His hand flies to the back of your head. Fingers tangling into your hair. You stare up at him. He doesn’t make a move to push you forward or away. The ball remains in your court as he simply stares down at you, licking his lips, breaths short and heavy.

“Levi”, You say gently, breath brushing against his member as he begins to squirm. You smirk, “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

You place a kiss to the inside of his thigh. Another slightly higher, and higher again. His hips buck forward.

“Stop moving”

He stills beneath your hands as you decide to finally grab onto his hardened member, dripping with precum. Slowly but surely, you pump him up and down as he sighs out. you lean forward and place another kiss at the base of his cock. You run your tongue from the base, to the underside and all the way to the top where you twirl your tongue around the head. The grunt that accompanies this action urges you on as you begin to suck deeply.

He Whines out, “Y/N”

You pause and he squirms some more. Hands gripping your hair harder.

“Yes?”

“Please”, he blurts out. “More”

“Do you want to cum?”

He nods vigorously. Good, let Y/N break him. You do your best to relax your throat and breathe deeply through your nose. With a slow push You push forward all the way to the hilt. He Gasps. He’s panting now.

“Please”, he breathes out. Mumbling over and over again. You pull back slightly and let your tongue swirl around the head again. You look up and make eye contact. Mouth hanging open, eyes wound shut. His lips let out moans and whines.

“Oh God!” He lets out before releasing in your mouth. You swallow everything before standing up again. You run your tongue over your lips before looking at him.

Pants pooled around his ankles, eyes glossy, mouth slightly open as his breathing begins to slow. His face is of pure ecstasy.

“So are you willing to listen to me now?” You smile at him gently. “Or do you want to take a minute?”

#aot #levi attack on titan #levi #ackermann #attack on titan #aot fic #levi smut #aot smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #sub!levi #dom!reader #levi ackerman

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gtanddragons · 3 years

Text

Caught

A companion piece to @hopemakesstuff‘s works “Protecting Assets” and “Role Reversal”, this one is tied into our friend group’s Shifter!Makoto AU! In which everyone’s favorite lucky boy can (somewhat) control his ability to change his size, and all the shenanigans that ensue as a result.

Warnings: Contains spoilers for chapter two of DR1.

(Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid—!)

He’s practically mumbling those words to himself in a feverish mantra as he forces himself to hurry down the tiled hallway of Hope’s Peak Academy.

(Need to find somewhere to hide—!)

Makoto is trembling, panting from the effort of making his way through the school— although it would normally be a simple task, it was certainly anything but now that he was stuck at a meager three inches tall. Despair hung heavy over his head as what would ordinarily be a few minutes’ walk to the first floor classrooms had already taken him… what, twenty minutes at this brisk pace? Thirty? It felt like an eternity had passed, and yet he still had a ways to go.

The dining hall was closer, certainly, but it was also almost certain that everyone would be gathered there for the breakfast meeting.

He feels guilty for missing it. Just one more reason to scold himself— he should’ve eaten last night. Should have gotten some rest. Shouldn’t have worn himself ragged, because now he’s stuck at his most vulnerable in a school full of other students who could (and maybe even would) kill him without a second thought. Maybe even by accident, and that’s somehow an even more repulsive thought.

The only other student who even remotely knows about his… condition… is Kyoko Kirigiri. Not of his own volition, of course, but she’d figured it out a lot quicker than he’d expected.

…No, there was yet another person who knew. Had known, since they had gone to school together since they were children.

But there isn’t any point in making himself even more depressed by thinking about her. Not right now. Either way, she can’t help him now— and he can’t rely on finding Kyoko to help him, not when she’s likely still with the others in the dining hall. He can’t risk exposing himself to everyone else like this.

For a brief moment, his thoughts go quiet, having finally exhausted themselves.

(It’s okay. I’m almost to the classroom. I can just… hide in there under the teacher’s desk or something, wait to be able to shift back up to normal. And it wouldn’t be a lie to say that my stomach was hurting this morning—)

“Puhuhu~! And wheeeere do you think you’re going, little mister lucky student?”

Makoto yelps as an all-too-familiar figure pops out from seemingly nowhere— but this time, Monokuma towers over him, making the already-terrifying headmaster seem even more like a horrible monster than a cute little bear plushie.

Monokuma leans down and crosses his stubby arms as best as he’s able, still chuckling all the while. “I’ll admit, it’s kiiiiinda cute watchin’ you scurry around like that.~”

Makoto winces and takes an involuntary step back, gulping as the headmaster’s sharp teeth come closer into view. “I— I, um. I’m… going to the classroom…”

The bear pats his cheek thoughtfully, that unsettling grin still a mere foot away. “Ahhh, don’t wanna go to the dining hall, huuuuh? Smart move! Don’t wanna accidentally make one of your classmates a murderer, ‘cause. Yooou know.~ It would be such a shame if someone were to step on ya, or— ohhhh, how horrid! If you wound up as someone’s lunch. How cruel! Gahahaha!”

A chill runs up Makoto’s spine, and it takes all of his willpower to not fall back in fear at that obnoxiously-loud laughter. Thankfully, though, Monokuma gets out of his face as he straightens up.

“Ahhh… I should proooobably let you go. After all, wellllll… just try not to get caught, eh? Puhuhu!”

And once again, the bear is taking off fast enough for Makoto’s head to spin, still left confused over what Monokuma had meant— until the sound of footsteps in the distance catches his attention. Coming from further down the hallway…

Makoto suddenly tenses, his face blanching. He recognizes the sound of the voices drawing ever closer, and even at this distance, it’s easy to see just who’s coming his way.

Byakuya… and, trailing behind him… Toko.

...No. Judging from the obnoxious laughter resounding through the school hallway… that would be Genocide Jack. Great.

(Gghk--! How did I not hear them getting closer--?!)

Makoto furiously shakes his head-- he could take more time to curse Monokuma, and his awful luck, later. For now, he needs to find a place to hide, but staying out in the open hallway is practically a death wish.

He desperately glances in the direction of classroom 1-A-- he’ll have to run towards Byakuya and Jill’s general direction, but if he hurries…!

(I-I’m already worn out, but just a little more--!)

Makoto takes off at a full-blown sprint to the classroom, all too aware of the potential consequences of getting caught. His heart hammers in his chest as the footsteps draw closer, his two classmates coming into view like towering buildings on the horizon.

“Ugh… if this turns out to be some kind of goose chase, I swear…” Byakuya complains, his nose crinkling in disgust. He’d been attempting to enjoy picking apart case files in the archive over a cup of coffee this morning, but apparently even that was too much to ask. First he’d been besieged by Genocide Jack-- his new apparent fangirl, even pushier than Toko-- and then that accursed bear had shown up and caused a ruckus, insisting on showing them something interesting. But as of yet, Byakuya had yet to see anything even remotely worthy of his attention, and he was starting to get even more frustrated.

“Kyahaha! Ohh, Master, you know I can’t resist that stormy, sullen face! This whole ‘goose chase’ is worth every step~!”

Byakuya lets out a world-weary sigh, gritting his teeth as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

(Just keep tuning her out or you’ll get an even worse headache, Byakuya. Why couldn’t she have been the guilty party in this most recent--)

A sudden yelp from Jill drags him out of his thoughts, the serial killer’s arm snapping up to point down the hall in front of them.

“Oh look at that!”

Byakuya’s gaze shifts to where she’s pointing fast enough to get the faintest glimpse of… something. Something small-- a blur of movement in the doorway of the classroom at the end of the hall.

“Oooh, what was that?! A mooouuusee? And it thinks it can run from meeee?”

Byakuya isn’t surprised when Jill suddenly tears off down the hallway towards the classroom, shrieking with laughter. But as he follows after her, he can’t resist the slight increase of speed in his steps-- had that thing really been a mouse? He’d only seen it for a split second, but the color and shape had seemed… off. Some kind of robot like Monokuma, perhaps? A new clue…?

Either way, perhaps this tedious distraction would prove to be fruitful in the end…

Jill is on her hands and knees the moment after she rushes into the room, prowling the classroom and sniffing the air like some kind of wild animal.

“Awww, think you can hide? From me? Cuuuuuute. Now…”

Jill grins madly even as she pokes her head under a nearby desk.

“Come out, come out, whereeeever you aaaaare~!”

—

It doesn’t take long for Byakuya to follow after Jill and reach the doorway to the classroom, but even then… by the time he gets there, he’s met with the sound of desks clattering to the floor in one chaotic sweep, a triumphant yell (“Gotcha!”), and… the sight of Jill huddled up with something clutched in her hands.

Something squirming and… crying out.

Byakuya’s brows dart sharply upwards. Although he can’t quite see, and the sound is so small… he recognizes that terrified squawking.

“Aw, boo,” Jill grumbles. “Tch, not even big enough for one of my scissors…”

Byakuya hardly has any time to react before Jill turns around and—

His hands instinctively snap outwards as something is tossed in his direction. Whatever it is hits squarely in the palms of his hands and his fingers curl tightly around it, a flailing, warm weight that could only belong to a living creature— the thought alone nearly makes him drop the thing in revulsion.

(Did she just throw a filthy mouse at—?!)

“Soooorry Master~!” Jill croons, before pouting and tapping the blade of her scissors against her cheek. “Hmph… here I was hoping for some real meat, or a full-size cute boy… not a bite-sized happy meal with a little Mac.”

(What on Earth is she prattling on about now—?)

Byakuya looks down to his hands, wincing at the feeling of the little creature in his hands struggling in his grip… but as soon as he looks down, he can hardly tear his eyes away.

Caught haphazardly in his fingers, struggling and whimpering… is none other than Makoto Naegi. For once, Byakuya is at a loss for words, blinking disbelievingly at the ridiculous sight.

“Speaaaaking of meat,” Jill interrupts, her sullen mood ending with a quick snip of her scissors. “Let’s keep looking around, Master! I’m sure that goose must be somewhere around here.~”

With an obnoxiously loud cackle, she’s already out the door again— momentarily leaving Byakuya alone with his ‘catch’.

His grip loosens considerably at not feeling any more resistance; for a second, he feels a sudden twinge of grim resignation, thinking that perhaps the tiny boy sprawled out in his hands had died from the impact… though that theory is quickly disproven as he leans his head in closer, noting the subtle rise and fall of Makoto’s chest.

Just unconscious, then. Though, just to make sure (and to satiate some of his burning curiosity), Byakuya cautiously runs his fingertips over Makoto’s limbs.

Nothing broken, and… after using the tip of his nail to lift up Makoto’s hoodie and shirt, he can safely say that his little classmate managed to escape the ordeal with minimal bruising.

“‘Ultimate Lucky Student’ indeed,” Byakuya mutters. He lifts his hands even higher, squinting to get a better look at Makoto’s face.

The boy seems peaceful, at least, although…

…He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. The dark circles under Makoto’s eyes are none of his concern. What is his concern, however…

Byakuya gives the classroom one last, cursory glance before carefully slipping Makoto’s limp form into his blazer pocket. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, even as he exits the classroom.

Finally, something interesting.

Very, very interesting.

#gtronpa #alt title: makoto regrets his life choices (part 1 of several)#shifter!makoto au #giant/tiny #astral makes stuff #the writing corner #fandom g/t

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years

Text

Slow Hands | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary: Tom and you are old friends. But how you wish it was more. Tom decides to a quiet birthday with you. A birthday wish and a few beers can change your life.

Warnings: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Birthday Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering,Teasing

“We should take this back to my place.” you said right to Tom’s face.

“I beg your pardon?” Tom responded, color rising to his cheeks.

“The food.” you held up the bag of takeaway. “We should take the food back to my place to eat, don’t you think?”

“Right, of course.” Tom sputtered. “Excellent plan.” Tom took the bag from you and exited the pub.

You jogged to catch up with him. “What did you think I meant?”

“I’m not sure to be honest.”

“Are you sure wouldn’t rather do something else on your birthday? I mean this is hardly the glamorous lifestyle you are used to.”

Tom laughed. He never grew tired of your constant prodding and poking at his fame.

“You know me better than any magazine article. A nice quiet dinner in with one of my best friends is my idea of a perfect birthday.” He gave a closed lip smile and continued walking on.

The word “friend” hurt more than any bullet or punch. Yes, you appreciated Tom’s friendship more than anything. Treasured it. But you didn’t want to be his friend. You want to be his everything. The one who shares his bed at night. You wanted to add “girl” in front of "friend”. But that was never going to happen. Tom made it clear that he saw as nothing more than a friend. That fucking word again.

“Well come on and I’ll let you pick the first movie of the night.” You picked up the pace, hurrying along the sidewalks of London towards your modest flat.

Tom jogged to catch up. He wrapped his arm your shoulders and pulled you into his side, kissing your temple. “What would I do without you?”

You gritted your teeth without answering.

Once the two of you settled on your worn couch, Tom grabbed for the remote while you fetched utensils and drinks in the kitchen. You flopped next to him, thighs touching. You handed him a beer, while he nudged your container of food over.

“So what Disney marshmallow fluff are you going to make me watch this time?” you snarked as you shoved a handful of fries into your mouth.

“Hey! I like that marshmallow fluff.” Tom elbowed you in the ribs. “And chew your food. I don’t want to perform the Heimlich, I only play a doctor on TV.”

You turned to face Tom and with a straight face and took a massive bite of your burger, chewing with your mouth open. Tom’s lips twitched. He picked up his burger and licked his lips before taking a slow bite. Drops of mustard clung to the corner of his mouth.

“You…” you gestured to his mouth. “… have something.”

Tom flicked his tongue out to swipe away the droplets. The whole act made your cheeks hot. Does he even understand what he is doing?! your brain screamed.

“Did I get it?” Tom asked, looking at you with those blue eyes someone could get lost in.

“Um…” you pretended to check, “… yup.” you prayed he didn’t notice your embarrassment.

“Now about that movie…” Tom waggled the remote in front of your face.

Two hours later, you finished the burgers and fries and the movie. Several beers lay empty on the table.

“Now that I have tooth decay.” you lunged for the remote, reaching across Tom.

He tried to pull away, but you moved too quick, snatching the remote before he shifted. You fell against his chest. His heart pounded through his t-shirt as you placed a hand against the sharp planes of his torso.

“My turn.” you stuttered as you stood up, rushing to the kitchen. “but first….” you pulled a large box from the fridge. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” you yelled as you placed a cake on the coffee table in front of Tom.

“Darling…” Tom extolled as he drank the last of his beer, placing the empty bottle next to this first empty. “… you shouldn’t have!”

You gave Tom a withering glance.

“But I am glad you did.”

“Are you kidding? I have been thinking about this all day. Do you realize how hard it is to not eat cake?”

He pushed against your shoulder as you sat down next to him. “I appreciate your sacrifice and willpower.”

He reached for the knife but you touched his wrist to stop him cutting the cake.

“We can’t eat yet.”

“Why not?” Tom looked confused.

“Make a wish.” You held up a candle and book of matches.

Tom groaned as he fell back against the couch. “You are not going to sing are you?”

“It’s tradition. You like tradition.”

“Only when it suits me.”

“Humor your dear old friend.”

You snuggled into the crook of his neck. You inhaled his scent. Today he smelled of wood and spice and hops from the beer. And a tinge of something distinctly Tom. You could never name it but you caught whiffs of it on your throw blanket after Tom would crash on your couch after too many beers.

You didn’t see a splash of pink rush across Tom’s cheeks or how his hand hovered over your back, indecisive where to place it. He ultimately let it fall on the back of the couch. He cleared his throat to break the silence as you stared up at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Well let’s get on with it.” he clapped his knees as he leaned towards the cake.

You pushed the candle into the thick layer of chocolate frosting, it tilted ever so slightly. You sang Happy Birthday in a slight off key tone while Tom smiled in mock embarrassment and shame.

“Happy Birthday to you!” you finished up as you lifted the cake to his face. “Make a wish.”

Tom looked over at you for a moment and then closed his eyes before blowing out the candle.

“What did you wish for?” you asked as he handed you a big slice of cake.

“I can’t tell you or else it won’t come true!” Tom said through a bite of cake.

“Party pooper.”

“It’s my party.”

“Fine.” you shoveled a big bite of cake into your mouth. “Have your secrets!”

Tom smiled as he took another big bite.

“So…” you asked as you pushed the last bite of your cake. “Now that you are an old man—”

“I resent that remark.” Tom finished up his cake.

“Fine. You’re young, practically a teenager!” you rolled your eyes and Tom suppressed a laugh. “What I meant is you are now 39. The last of your thirties. What you are you planning to do?”

“Well, I haven’t thought about it too much. It just another year.” Tom gave you a look you couldn’t quite place.

“Stop bullshitting me, Tom. I have known you for too long to believe that. You always have some half-baked plan cooking in that brain of yours. What does 39 hold for you? Skydiving? Directorial debut? Wedding in Vegas to a showgirl? Spill it.” You grabbed your now lukewarm beer and took a swig.

Tom shifted in his seat to look at you. An unnerving stare with those damn blue eyes. You squirmed in your seat, hiding the shiver running down your spine and the heat on your neck and cheeks.

“Now that you mention I do have some plans for the coming year.”

“Really?” you leaned in.

“Yes. I am planning on finishing up my commitments to Marvel for the year.”

You nodded knowing that Marvel would always be a major part of Tom’s life.

“And I have a few scripts I am reading. But I am looking to settle down this next year.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

“I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.” You stood up and grabbed the plates and hurried to the kitchen. You feared you might cry.

“It’s not anything serious yet.” Tom spoke to the back of your head as he stood. “But I am certain she’s the one.”

Tom came up behind you as you placed the plates in the sink and turned on the water. Tom turned the water off.

“Wow. She must be some kind of girl. Anyone I know?” you choked on your words. You didn’t know which answer would be worse.

“You know her very well.” Tom’s hands trailed slowly up your arms. His fingers teasing your shoulders before they skimmed down your back and lighting on your waist. You turned in his grip to face him.

“I—”

Your thought cut off by Tom’s lips pressing against yours. His hands fisting into the bottom your shirt. The kiss was over almost as fast as it started and Tom pulled away, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath heavy against your cheek.

“I hope you feel the same way.” Tom sighed. “Because I want you, darling.”

His finger traced along the curve of your cheek and Tom licked his lips as his eyes darted between your eyes and lips.

“What? How? Huh?” you regain the use of your voice.

“It has always been you. No matter happens. No matter what goes wrong or right. I always come back to you. You are the one constant in my life, my soft place to land.” Tom’s eyes shone bright under the harsh light of your kitchen.

“You mean you can’t tell that I want you?” your lips curved into a smile as your fingers teased the curls at the nape of his neck.

Tom’s face froze in an expression of confusion as his brain processed your words. You leaned into his ear. “I want you too. Bad.”

Tom smiled a wide smile. He pulled you close against his chest, his hand gripped the back of your shirt for dear life.

“Once we start, there will be no stopping me.” Tom raised his eyebrows in question.

“Who is asking you to stop? We can take our time, we can do this all night” you quirked an eyebrow up and that was all Tom needed.

He lunged towards with a fervor. His kiss hungry. You groaned against him and his tongue slipped past your lips, searching. You tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, sliding your hands against the sharp angles of his stomach and chest, the lean muscle flexing under your touch.

“Should be take this to the bedroom?” You asked, panting.

“I thought you would never ask.” Tom pulled you along.

You shed your shirt as you walked through the living room. Tom followed suit and tugged at his jeans while you did the same. You both stopped at the bedroom door to pull your pants off, leaving them there.

Tom grabbed you again. “I have never seen you in just your underwear before.” He brushed an errant piece of hair off your forehead. “You have never looked as beautiful as you do now.”

“You don’t have to flatter me, Tom. You already have my pants off.”

“We’ve wasted so much time, I intend on spending the rest of my days lavishing attention onto the woman I love.”

You caught your breath as you stared at Tom, your best friend. He stood before you in just his underwear, flushed. His pupils large and lust blown, he gazed upon with a look you only saw from him through your TV screen.

“I love you too.” you whispered as you shuffle your feet. “I’ve always loved you. You’re the one, Tom. You stole my heart, you charming bastard.”

You walked towards him and wrapped your arms around him. “And now…” you looked up at him through your lashes as you ran a finger along the waist of his underwear before tugging them down in a single motion. “I want to experience every inch of you.”

Tom walked you back until the backs of your legs hit the bed and you fell back hitting the mattress. He crawled on top of you, his hands snaked behind you and unclasped your bra. He slid his hand underneath the bra to massage your right breast, fingers worrying the nipple into a hard pebble.

“Ahhh!” you moaned as you arched your back to his touch.

“So responsive, darling. I had no idea.”

You slid the bra off your shoulders and threw in onto the floor as Tom gave the same treatment to your left breast, eliciting the same moan from your lips.

“I wonder what other noises you can make?” Tom pondered as he moved down your body. You whimpered when Tom’s fingers traced the waistband of your panties. He pulled them down your legs and discarding somewhere in the dark room.

His breath was hot against your thighs and you tensed not knowing what would happen next. Tom licked your pussy with the flat of his tongue.

“Fuck!” you hissed as you gripped the sheets at your side.

Tom chuckled against you. “Oh, give me time, darling. But for now, let’s see how it takes for you to come undone.”

Tom continued his devouring of you. You bucked your hips against his mouth and he snaked an arm up to hold you fast against the creaking mattress, while the other hand pushed your leg wide, granting him easier access.

“Hmmmph.” you moaned as Tom flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit. He glanced up as your head fell back and grinned. He flicked his tongue against you again and your release edged closer.

As if Tom sensed it, he released your leg and teased a single finger along your slit, collecting juices. He plunged into you and you gripped around him.

“You are so wet already for me.” he cooed as he pumped in and out of you.

“I’m close!” you pleaded as Tom’s fingers curled inside of you.

“Come for me, darling. Come for me.” Tom pleaded as he lowered his head between your legs.

Tom added a second finger as well as sucking against your clit which toppled you over the edge. Your hands flew to tangle into the mess of ginger curls on Tom’s head. Tom continued to pleasure you through your orgasm until you pushed away.

Tom positioned himself between your legs and took himself into one of his hands, giving his hard cock several pumps.

“That was exquisite.” he hummed as he teased the head of his cock along you.

You lifted your hips into him, a silent invitation, and Tom pushed into you. He hissed as he filled you completely.

“Fuck.” Tom breathed as he paused a moment to savor the sensation. “You are amazing. You feel amazing.”

Tom pulled out almost entirely and then plunged into you again, snapping his hips. You pulled him down on top of you, crashing your lips against his. He tasted of you.

Tom continued to snap his hips against you, grazing the pubic bone. Another orgasm quickly approached, and you snaked your hand between your two bodies, finding your clit, drawing tight circles.

“I’m close.” Tom moaned against your neck.

“Me too.”

Tom’s thrusts became hungry and erratic and within seconds, he spilled inside you, his head fell into the crook of your neck. You soon followed, clenching around him, causing Tom to chuckle, his chest shaking in ragged breaths.

As the waves of pleasure dissipated, the two of you lie motionless, neither wanting to move. As if moving would break the spell and the two of you would wake up from this impossible dream.

“Tom?” you questioned.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t breathe.”

Tom rolled off of you and took a place to your side, propping himself up on his elbow. “Sorry about that.”

His long fingers ran along the curves of your bare arm. You feared to look at him. To speak. Afraid he would say he made a mistake.

“So…” you started, staring at the ceiling fan in your bedroom going round and round.

“You’re afraid I’m going to say it’s a mistake.” Tom took your chin in his hand and turned your face to his.

“How did you know?”

“I know you.”

“So…”

“So… the only mistake I made was not telling you about my affections years ago. My mistake was wasting my time chasing a feeling, a love that was sitting right in front of me.”

He kissed your forehead. A simple gesture, he had performed a hundred times before. But now, it was not out of friendship but rather love. He took a breath as he made a decision.

“Marry me?” he whispered as he nuzzled behind your ear.

“What?!” you pulled him away.

“Marry me. When you realize you have found your mate, you want the rest of your life with them to start as soon as possible.”

You searched his face for emotion, for malice, for jest. But there was none.

“Y… ye..yes!” you stuttered out.

Tom pulled you against his chest and he kissed you with the passion of no man before in your life.

“I wished for you. Every year I wished for you.”

“I wished for you too.” you hummed as his arms closed around you and the two of you drifted off in bliss.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston smut

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ppangjae · 3 years

Note

HI :D i just wanted to let you know i appreciate every single piece of work you write ! you are more than valid to defend yourself and have the right to stand up for your beliefs and morals and others shouldn’t dictate how YOU should deal with them especially if they’re not the ones experiencing. To those anons who are invalidating and belittling your thoughts and words, learn to put yourself in others’ shoes and experience the awful and insensitive words thrown at these writers especially when they’re the ones writing the works YOU’RE reading, this means you have NO right to discredit anything unless it’s beneficial and kindly expressed advice ! And what is the point of you guys expressing such thoughts in a foul manner whilst hiding behind a screen, ANONYMOUSLY because surely if you have the guts to say anything negative or remotely disregarding/disrespectful at least consider whether or not you can TRULY say it to one’s face and if so turn off the ask anonymously :/ otherwise shut your traps ! TAKE A BREAK ALEX until you feel like writing feels more of an enjoyable hobby rather than a chore where unrefined people think it’s ok to spill nonsense to make you and your writing seem bad >:(

hi love ♥️ not at you making me cry so early in the morning lol thank you for reaching out and being so kind. just know that you've made me feel sooo much more better. it's like a heavy weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. ♥️ i've never realized how much i wanted to hear these words. from the bottom of my heart, whoever you are, thank you so much. you have NO idea how relieved and just so happy you made me feel.

i'm not even going to lie but the events that have happened the past few days have fucked (sorry for the lack of a better word) up my head. that feeling of being terrified to write is coming back. well, it already has come back because i tried to write a couple of wips and i tried working on the fic i'm co-writing with nikki and just— i sat in front of my laptop for a good fifteen minutes just questioning myself. why am i doing this? why am i still doing this? should i even be doing this? and it just... it's taking such a huge toll on me.

i've been more affected by the ask directing me how i should be responding to these rude anons. i've said this a lot but i've never felt so invalidated to express my feelings. that and everything else that has happened in my personal life (to those rude anons, yes, i do have a life. i do have my own personal problems.) just piled up and is truly messing up my head.

what was supposed to be a safe place for me where i could do and write whatever i want became a terrifying place to be in for the past couple of days.

sometimes i wonder how these people could literally sit behind their screen and type such harsh words, hit send, and go on about their day as if it was nothing. when the loveliest anons thank me for spending so much time writing fics and posting them for free, i always forget that yes, i am doing this all for free. it's because i love doing it. i love writing and i love sharing it. but there's always those anons that enjoy ruining it all for you.

i was supposed to deactivate in december.

i was supposed to just post one last fic and that was it. in december. but the reason why i didn't is because i suddenly had the urge to write so many more fics. i had so many ideas out of nowhere that it was just difficult to leave. i am so glad to have stayed, but the past few days... sigh.

thank you so much for dropping by to send this ask. ♥️ i truly appreciate it. i wasn't supposed to reply to your ask but i feel like everyone should be aware of what fic writers have to go through.

we write for fun. we write because we want to. if you simply don't like it, don't read it and move on with your life. you're saving everyone a huge favour by keeping your words to yourself, knowing that they're not going to be words of advice or constructive criticism. when people do send rude asks, they don't know how much of a negative effect it'll put on these fic writers. we do this for free. and the last thing we would want to get in return are harsh words. and i am so sure that fic writers don't want to be directed as to what or how they should be running or answering their asks, how they should defend themselves. i sure didn't like any of it at all.

i'm going to stop myself from saying any more lol just because i feel like i'll be criticized for replying with such long paragraphs. but i'm going to end this off with something to say to all of these rude anons:

before you send it, think about this first. all your faves and all of your favourite fic writers DEACTIVATE because of rude anons like you. when i started writing fics on tumblr, there were so many great fic writers... but now... they're not as active anymore, and i wonder why?

#ask alex #♥️#wondering if i should pin this #just because these are the words that i truly wanted to hear

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neonponders · 3 years

Text

*sigh* ..... Nobody’s surprised here lol I require very little enabling.

Here’s part 1 of this lil mafia_au ✨ @lovebillyhargrove 💗

This got out of hand quickly orz but I’ll hold onto this for a later time 🔥

And to answer your question.....yes, I do write smut 😘

Billy made Steve cum four times.

Four.

He couldn’t believe it. Once, standing up in his towel with Billy massaging his groin, and twice more while he opened him up. Steve knew he was pent up, but...this was something else.

Billy yanked the towel to fall to the floor and walked him backward into the bedroom, shedding Steve of his t-shirt. Then he spread Steve wide and licked inside his ass. Steve couldn’t really say if the next orgasm was normal, dry, or just a pleasurable spike from being overwhelmed from Billy’s fingers tickling deeper than he thought possible.

Some lingering brain cell chirped at him and he carefully turned over to start crawling over the bed toward the side drawer. He managed to get his fingertips on the brass handle before Billy laid on top of him, flush with his pants open. Steve’s cock kicked to full eagerness at the sensation of Billy behind him, soft skin and strong muscle.

His arm followed up Steve’s to the drawer, where he withdrew the lube. Steve flushed from embarrassment that he gasped against Billy saying into his hair, “I’ll take care of you.”

Steve could only manage, “Condoms?”

“I’m clean. You?”

Steve blinked, lust making his head heavy until he released his weight onto the mattress. “I think so. I haven’t checked.”

The sound of the bottle cap behind and above him. “We’ll get you checked if you want, baby. Lift your ass for me.”

He sluggishly moved his elbows underneath him to do so, but then his voice escaped with his surprise at Billy hefting his pelvis up. “Breathe for me. Let me hear you.”

Steve let his torso recline like a ramp up to where Billy began to push inside. As much as the stretch made Steve’s jaw intermittently go slack and clench, the little, repeated pushes against his prostate made him see stars. The way Billy pulled him back and pushed inside him with a steadily increasing pace...Steve had never just let go before. Was usually entirely devoted to making sure his partner got everything they wanted and needed.

Billy used him and it felt great. To reach behind him for Billy’s hip when he arrived at the pace that ramped up Steve’s panted whines. The soft moan Billy made when Steve pushed against him with stuttering pulses, so close, so so

Steve’s nails bit into Billy’s hip, silently begging him to stay put as he bucked against him, the two at a clumsy impasse as Billy tried to fuck him through it and Steve’s short thrusts negated his efforts but made wet slaps fill the small room.

“Hahh!” Steve exclaimed when Billy’s arm came around his front and he moved them further up the bed. His other hand pressed into the mattress beside Steve’s head. He loosely held onto Billy’s wrist as the man took his pleasure from Steve. The way he just handled Steve into position...

“What?” he grunted breathily above him when Steve laughed. Something twirled in Steve’s belly at how mutually wrecked he sounded.

“Nothing. I just like this.”

Billy came with two more stuttering thrusts that pushed his hips tightly against Steve’s ass. He didn’t know what to expect afterwards, and he was too fucked out and tired to care much. But Billy landed beside him and rolled Steve over to spoon his backside and feel that silk shirt against his skin.

Maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour later, Steve felt Billy easing his thigh up to slot himself inside again. The angle shoved a gasp right out of him, but where before had been fast, Billy took his time now. Relishing each shiver that his nose and mouth caused behind Steve’s ear and on the side of his neck. The moan he got when he slid his hand down the inside of Steve’s thigh, easing it over his own leg to open Steve up further.

When his hand finally closed around Steve’s erection, Steve’s hand overlapped it, guiding him to what he needed. Billy came first this time, but he stayed inside and pumped Steve to his finish.

His last remotely cognizant thought went into noticing how Billy lifted his covers over their bodies as he slipped into slumber.

He shouldn’t have been able to wake up from the little shuffles and belt tinkering after the sun had risen, but Steve opened his eyes to see Billy adjusting his clothes in his closet door mirror.

“Do a turn.”

Billy perked up and looked back at him. He smiled like he’d been caught at something. “What?”

Steve gazed at him as much as he could from where his face was smushed against the pillow. He twirled a finger in the air. “Do a turn.”

Billy laughed softly, and...that was nice. He looked sweet when he smiled. It made a weight land in Steve’s belly, but a pleasant weight. It was even nicer how he held his arms out and rotated for Steve to see all of him. The silk shirt that was a dark, dark green; made the pink of his cheeks and lips pop. The black slacks around thick thighs...Steve wouldn’t mind having those wrapped around him.

“Gorgeous.”

Billy grinned through another laugh and let his arms fall back to his sides. He approached the bed and Steve’s eyes closed against the hand combing through his hairline. “What’s your shift today?”

“Closing,” he exhaled, his voice light with sleep.

He cooed a sound when Billy kissed his temple. “I’ll see you later.”

He hummed two more sounds like, Oh-kay.

Steve didn’t go to work.

His alarm when off, he stood up, and then fell back into bed while reaching for his phone to call his manager and use one of his sick days. Considering the tip he got last night, he could certainly afford a day off.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised, come dinner time, that a knock came at the door. Steve hauled his whole comforter with him to the door, where Billy immediately looked him over and stepped inside. “I went to the restaurant to see you. What’s wrong?”

Steve chuckled a little through, “Nothing’s wrong. I just called in sick.”

Billy lifted his gaze from the plush turtle shell around him. “You were fine this morn - ”

“I’m sore, Billy,” he droned and began to shuffle his way back to his room, perfectly content with the blunt look of surprise on the man’s face. For good measure, he sassed, “Coulda left me an ice pack.”

He head Billy shut the door for him and then the same rustle and twinkle he’d heard this morning, only in reverse as he undressed. He put his clothes on the couch until he wore just his briefs and tank top. Steve’s eyes followed him from the bed, because even those were a look. The man couldn’t do anything without a couple hundred dollars on his body.

He brought an ibuprofen and a tall glass of water to the bed. Steve had already taken one, but it had been some hours ago.

“Have you eaten?”

He nodded while gulping water. “Lunch.”

He left the bedroom again and Steve heard him talking on the phone about what sounded like Chinese food. He only paused to lean in and ask, “Steve?”

His bedhead lifted up, just eyes, nose, and hair above his mound of comforter. Billy laughed, “What sides do you want?”

“Crab rangoons,” he returned easily.

When he finished, Billy climbed into bed with, “Come here,” and Steve eased his way onto his chest. He lent some of the comforter over Billy’s legs.

It was nice. Really nice.

By the time the food got there, Steve could sit properly again and Billy respected Steve’s choice in watching Netflix anime on the laptop on the end of the bed.

It was nice. All of it went incredibly well considering Steve didn’t know Billy’s last name. And frankly, he didn’t feel confident enough to ask. Even if Billy filled up every spare minute he had with holding Steve’s body against his chest, pushing Steve’s hair behind his ear, kissing him until Steve didn’t know his own name - even if it was just for a glorious weekend

He was fine with it. Because Steve wanted to be wanted. And Billy unashamedly desired him.

Steve did manage to ask him if the phone number included with his tip was Billy’s. He took the small slip of paper from Steve and wondered, “Who did you think it was from?”

“I didn’t handle your tab,” Steve defended while their legs were tangle together and the room still smelled of sweet and sour sauce. “I didn’t handle anyone’s, and there were like, fifteen people in your party.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “Do you often get numbers tucked in the receipt folder?”

“No,” Steve scoffed while rubbing behind his ear. “I did get a tiny baggie of cocaine once.”

“Someone thought tipping the waiter with blow would be fine? Wow. Did you try it?”

“It could’ve been powdered sugar, for all I knew. I didn’t keep it. I’ll stick to downers like classic THC.”

Billy smiled and Billy laughed. Sometimes he just touched Steve like he was curious, or...checking like he was really there. A finger under his chin. A nose turning into his hair and deeply inhaling. Sometimes he touched Steve’s leg so he looked at him, but when Steve asked what he wanted to say or ask, Billy just shook his head. Like he just wanted Steve’s eyes and attention on him.

Steve really should’ve expected the gifts.

First came the flatscreen television. The men who installed it were generous enough to provide the HDMI cable to connect his laptop to it.

Then came a new internet router.

And Billy started picking Steve up to take him to work. The first time was sweet and a pleasant surprise. Billy drove a luxurious car that looked demure on the outside but boasted upholstery that smelled expensive and the entire dash glowed with neon, indigo lining. He reeled Steve over the center console to kiss him before his shift.

“You’re dating either a criminal, or an heir to something,” Robin declared when Steve met up with her on his day off. Her words were tight due to the sheet mask on both of their faces. Steve folded his up so he could slurp on a Sprite can.

“I haven’t seen any security force, though? Shouldn’t a guy like that have a bouncer with him or a portable secretary everywhere he goes?”

Robin scoffed, “A portable - you mean a personal assistant? I don’t know, probably. Just because you haven’t seen one doesn’t mean he hasn’t got one or six. Make sure he knows I don’t get wet for dinguses.”

“You know, I never needed that,” he grimaced.

What did come as a surprise, though, is that Billy never initiated sex again after that first night. He and Billy kept rather busy schedules despite how often Billy walked into Steve’s life, but he couldn’t help but wonder what Billy’s motivations were. Maybe he just wanted to take it slow for the sake of Steve’s body. Maybe he realized Steve was a sap who could stick around for longer than a week.

He stopped wondering after an accident happened at the restaurant. Steve always did have a talent for landing himself right at the apex of one problem intersecting another problem.

A wine glass fell on the floor - nothing extraordinary - and someone bumped into him as he bent to collect the bigger pieces. His hand caught right on the upright, jagged stem of the glass. Yeah, it hurt like stepping into an oyster bed, but Steve carefully pulled the stem out of his hand and used one of the chef’s gloves over cotton and gauze to finish his shift.

Billy picked him up.

Steve knew what his car looked like now, and clearly Billy wasn’t taking chances on anybody else picking him up -

He leaned on the car as Steve approached, but he stepped off to stride right to him and lifted up his hand by the wrist. Steve’s mouth opened to speak, but no words came. He’d never seen Billy angry before.

The dagger hovered in Steve’s belly.

“What. Happened.”

“It was just an accident,” Steve tried to say, but his voice didn’t fully back him up. Billy’s grip tightened on his wrist. Steve tried again, insisted, “It was an accident, Billy. Someone dropped their glass. It happens all the time. I’m fine. Can we go?”

He couldn’t say what actually made Billy turn around and open the car door for him. But he didn’t take Steve back to his apartment. Or the Emergency Room. Billy didn’t talk during the drive. Steve didn’t know where he was going after Billy parked in a parking garage and he cradled his hand in an elevator that just kept going up.

“My place,” Billy finally said as the doors opened.

Criminal. Definitely a criminal, Steve’s brain declared as he slowly stepped inside the suite that the elevator opened directly into. He left his shoes by the elevator, not daring a speck of dirt on the marble foyer hallway or the carpeting beyond that.

He looked left. He looked right. The suite kept going on either side, like it was meant for a family of eight.

“Come here.”

Steve obeyed and sat on the crushed velvet couch. Billy set a phone down on its receiver. Steve hadn’t heard him say anything into it, but Billy went through a door while he removed his coat. Steve assumed it to be the bedroom. Or a massive closet. He stayed put where he was, petting the couch one way, making the threads look black, and then the other, glistening sapphire blue.

In a matter of minutes, the elevator doors opened again. Steve stood up but Billy reappeared and waved him back down. He was beginning to feel like a trained dog at this point.

“Dr. Owens. Thanks for coming up.”

“Always an obligation, Mr. Hargrove,” came the reply in the foyer.

Hargrove?

“Ah, are you the one?”

Steve’s mouth opened, but what came out was, “There’s only one of me.”

All three of them seemed to be mildly confused and disappointed in that sentence, but they each let it slide. Owens nodded at his bandaged hand. “Would you mind explaining your injury to me?”

He did while Billy sat on the other couch, knees crossed and a hand wandering his mouth. Brooding.

Owens began to look through the case he brought with him. It opened like a makeup kit, with three tiers that opened like stairs with medicine supplies. “I’m going to do some minor injections to numb your hand. Then I’ll need to look around for any lingering glass.”

“What if I’m afraid of needles?”

“You’re going to be more afraid of an infection caused by glass in the hand. If an infection gets entwined far enough with the metacarpals, it’s nearly impossible to clean it out. Hands and feet are the worst places to get injured.”

Steve’s shoulders drooped an inch. “Great.”

He felt and smelled Owens moving an alcohol swab all over his hand, but he otherwise kept his gaze elsewhere during the injections.

Of course he’d have to feel the first two or three.

Billy entered his vision, sitting next to him and curving Steve’s arm around his own, locking Steve to him. Steve’s vision couldn’t quite focus on him. Everything had a blurry edge.

“Lean back.”

The notion didn’t sound great. “I’ll vomit.”

“Then lean into me.”

That proved...more manageable. Billy held firm with Steve’s weight falling into him. He wore a blue shirt today. Just a nice, soft and mundane long-sleeve. He matched the couch. His hair had already grown out past the fade, too. Softly fuzzy against Steve’s face...

“Tell me what happened.”

Steve’s brain didn’t want to cooperate, and with each word he pushed out, confusion intertwined the cogs in his mind. “The...glass. Wine glass. I work in a restaurant - ”

His head lifted to look at him. “You don’t believe me?”

“I want to make sure.”

Steve stared at him. “What? That I can keep a story straight while trying not to pass out or vomit?”

“Keep your hand still,” Owens droned. Steve felt his dull hold on his wrist, and the distantly sharp exploration through his palm.

Billy didn’t respond, and Steve didn’t say anything else until Owens had finished. He rattled a small glass vial, two bloody pieces dancing around in it. “I’ll let you keep these unless you want me to dispose them?”

“I love souvenirs,” Steve remarked.

Owens looked just as pleased to be out of there as Billy looked unhappy at being left alone with Steve. The color had returned to his face while Owens wrapped up his hand, and now Billy paced his living room.

“Am I allowed to leave?” Steve asked the same time Billy said, “Want the tour?”

Billy frowned. “Do you want to?”

With his unharmed hand, Steve rubbed his face. “I don’t actually like staying up until four in the morning.”

Steve didn’t get the tour.

Billy drove him back to his apartment. He didn’t stay, but he said before leaving, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

It didn’t occur until Steve’s head was hitting the pillow that he didn’t have work tomorrow. What could Billy possibly be picking him up for?

So Steve made sure he wasn’t home.

Yes, it’s petty.

Yes, Robin called him a moron one the phone while he strolled through the park.

“You’re gonna die because you refused some rich douche bag’s date.”

“I am not going to die,” he refuted. “I’m just going - ”

“To explain why.”

He startled away from Billy walking beside him, causing the pebbles paving the walkway to go flying. “Steve?” Robin said in his ear.

“I’ll call you later.”

Billy didn’t look nearly as lethal as the night before, but he certainly wasn’t strolling through Disney World. “Why weren’t you at your apartment?”

Steve had a tendency to panic when overwhelmed, all right? He’d reached his limit and exploded, “I don’t know! Because you didn’t say why or when? Because I’m not one of your poodles? I’m a person who’s allowed to live their life like - like - normal?”

Billy blinked at him, his brows lifting until he said incredulously, “Poodles?”

“A trained dog! You know what I mean.” Steve waved his injured hand for emphasis and grimaced for it. “You’re suspicious as hell. Don’t think I’ll do anything you ask just because the sex was good - great. Whatever.”

A smirk began to warm Billy’s features. “Poodles.”

Steve’s hair bobbed over his face as he nodded. “Yeah? My aunt had two of ‘em. They were assholes. What are you not getting here?”

Billy laughed a little and, as he stepped close to him, Steve began to wonder if the park was...emptier, than it usually was on a Friday.

“You’re prettier than a poodle. And more disobedient than I ever tolerate, Steve.”

He tried to steel his jaw, but Steve had long since given up adolescent charades of hauteur. He shrugged, “What does that mean? You want your TV and router back? Are you going to sabotage my health insurance if I say no?”

Billy’s eyes lolled under a slow blink. “I’m not revoking your health insurance.”

Steve’s shoes touched Billy’s even though they had the space of the whole park. “Then what are we doing? I’m just some nobody. You’re clearly a somebody.”

“You’re not a nobody to me,” Billy finished, his breath tickling Steve’s lips. “I don’t want to hear you talk about yourself like that again.”

“Bossing me around isn’t going to end well for either of us. Especially if you can’t even believe me when I’m injured at work with an audience to vouch for - ”

Billy kissed him, but it wasn’t a hard, silencing kiss. It was one of Billy’s little touches. His cravings. To touch Steve. To share his air.

Steve’s brows furrowed and a conflicted moan hummed in his throat. His unharmed hand found Billy’s chest, and the latter took it as his cue to lace his fingers behind Steve’s back.

He’d barely broken the kiss before he started to say, “What we’re doing, is going to my car. You’re going to let me taste your dick behind my tinted windows because I’m done being considerate. Then we’ll go back to my place. I’ll give you the tour, and you’ll choose which room we fuck in first.”

Steve’s eyes ached with lust and how long he’d held them open. He gulped dryly. “This was an inconclusive argument.”

Billy smiled and turned them both to continue along out of the park.

#harringrove #neonponders #lovebillyhargrove #mafia au #ficlet #this steve with this billy

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amerrierworld · 4 years

Text

Winter Blues

Ocean’s 8 fanfiction

request: “where reader is sick and the two of them worry about the reader”

Summary: You thought staying in bed by yourself was the best way to spend your day, but a couple of girlfriends have other plans.

Characters: Lou x Debbie x gn!reader

Word Count: 1,272

Warnings: fLUFF!

Your phone had been ringing on-and-off again all morning, muffled by a pillow thrown on your nightstand. The flu had decided to visit you after one too many nights out with Lou and Debbie, and you were slowly starting to regret your decisions.

A ding of a text notification sounded, then another, and another. You knew it was either Lou or Debbie, they were the only one who’d keep bothering you this much during the day.

‘sick today. can’t come to dinner.’ you had texted them when you’d woken up groggy and feverish. Not even five minutes had passed before Debbie was texting you, asking how high your temperature was, if you were staying in bed, and texting you all sorts of antibiotic label names that you couldn’t keep track of.

Lou had tried to call, but you’d let it go to voicemail. Not that you didn’t want to talk to them, but because you felt your dry throat wouldn’t be up to a conversation, and you didn’t want to worry them even more.

So you ignored them, and drifted in and out of consciousness, riddled with sickly dreams and an upset stomach. Snow was falling outside, and it was cloudy and grey, much like how you were feeling.

You woke to a rattling on your front door, followed by harsh whispers and hurried footsteps. You barely got a chance to open your eyes before two figures crowded your bed.

“G’morning,” you tried to say, but it came out more as a rude croak.

“Morning? More like late afternoon,” Lou scoffed, grabbing the dirty tissues off of your nightstand and cleaning up the mess you’d made. Her face was all-natural today, you noticed. No heavy eyeliner or mascara. Hair half-pulled up and wearing soft slacks and a bomber jacket with a t-shirt under it.

Debbie was looking more casual than usual as well. She was wearing leggings and an oversized knitted sweater rather than her typical chic and sophisticated look. She was fussing over the corners of your blankets and tucking them in properly.

You’d barely gotten a chance to sit up as a platter with toast and orange juice was shoved in front of your face.

“Have you eaten?” Debbie asked, sitting on the side of your bed. You shrugged, answering her question.

“I really appreciate it,” you swallowed heavily, “but I don’t know if I can keep anything down right now.”

“Nonsense, just a little bite, okay?”

Debbie tried to lift a bite up for you to eat on a fork, but instead, your reflexes convulsed and you vomited over the side of the bed. Your girls were there, Debbie grabbed the trashcan to catch the puke, and Lou grabbed your hair to keep out of your face as you got rid of what little food you had in your system.

Coughing a bit, you settled back in the pillows, muttering an apology.

“Shouldn't you be getting ready for dinner? Those reservations you made...” you began, feeling guilty at making both of them staying here with you.

“The restaurant will still be there when you get healthy again, sweetheart, no rush,” Lou said, brushing damp hair out of your face. “We’re staying here with you until you feel better.”

“You may have to replace your front door lock though, Lou thought it a good idea to break in.”

“That’s because you forgot to bring the spare on the way here!”

You giggled quietly, before saying, “but I’ll get both of you sick if you stay here!”

“Don't be ridiculous. Our immune systems are out of this world.”

You tried to argue with the two of them, but once these partners in crime had their minds set on something, they weren’t going to be persuaded otherwise. Lou managed to help you drink some water while Debbie grabbed fresh sheets that didn’t smell of sick and sweat.

Too tired to get out of the bed and take a shower, your girlfriends compromised and helped you take off your shirt before rubbing a damp, soothing washcloth up and down your perspired torso. Debbie brushed your hair, using a bit of dry shampoo to last you until you could get to the bathroom.

Lou, ever the smart ass, chucked a fresh shirt of yours in the dryer so it came out hot and sweet-smelling. As soon as you’d put it on you felt yourself drifting off to sleep again.

Debbie checked your temperature as you dozed on and off, opening your window to let in some fresh air, tidying up the room and prepping some snacks in the kitchen. Lou helped you clean your face a bit, rubbed moisturizer on your cheeks and massaged your back and shoulders before holding you close.

“I’m gon’ get you sick,” you protested, but she shushed you, turning on the TV to whatever movie was playing.

Satisfied that she’d cleaned almost your entire home, Debbie came back to your bedroom and stripped until she was just in her sweater and underwear. Lou did the same, before the women climbed under the clean sheets with you and held you close.

“You two are a pair of fussy old women, you know that?” you mumbled, your nose stuffy and voice sore.

“Yes, obviously, but you love us, so no complainin’,” Lou swatted your hand.

“You decided to ignore us on the phone, so now you have to deal with us taking care of you, because clearly you’re not up for it yourself,” Debbie gave you a pointed look. You grumbled under your breath, feeling like a scolded child, but shimmying closer to their comfortable body heat all the same.

“This is a terrible movie, Lou, why would you put that on?”

“It was just what’s on right now, okay? Don’t come for my ass.”

“Give me the remote, if we’re gonna be here we have to at least have good entertainment.”

“Why do you always get to pick the film, huh, Ocean?”

“Because you have terrible taste!”

Snuggled under your blankets, with three pairs of warm legs rubbing comfortably up against each other, you smiled drowsily at their familiar bickering. Debbie put on an old Christmas movie, and they started up again, this time comparing reboots with the originals.

At some point Lou made popcorn, and you managed to eat a couple because of how light they were, it was easy to keep down. Another glass of water, and a couple of apple slices. It had begun to grow dark, but neither of your bed partners made any move or sign that they were leaving any time soon.

“Are you staying the night?” you asked them as Lou leaned over to flick on the lamp on your nightstand.

“Of course, silly,” Debbie said, taking your temperature again. “Oh, look, your fever’s not as high anymore.”

“I still feel terrible though,” you murmured.

“You should sleep. Hopefully some rest will help break the fever,” this time her voice was soft and gentle.

“We’ll go to the couch if you really wanna get rid of us,” Lou added, “but we’re not going anywhere, not until you’re okay again.”

“No, don’t go, please? It’ll be so cold without you,” you admitted.

Lou and Debbie shared a mutual look, and not another word was said for the reest of the night. Lou pulled you to lay your head on her chest, pulling the blankets up snugly to your shoulders, and Debbie wrapped her arms around you from behind, spooning you until you felt a comfortable warmth spread through your body. You drifted away into a calm, dream-less sleep, your fever already starting to break.

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bvccy · 4 years

Text

Tenderness and Ferocity | 2. The Second Day

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Hydra!Reader Fic Synopsis: The Winter Soldier is starting to make stupid mistakes in the field, which is Bucky's way of trying to wrest back control and sabotage his handlers. Hydra brings a new doctor to figure out what's wrong with him and fix it. As she spends time with him, she becomes fond of the Winter Soldier, and he becomes fond of her. Bucky has other ideas. Or, a fic in which the Winter Soldier is the good guy and Bucky is actually the bad guy. Warnings for this chapter: Angst Word count: 1488 Read on AO3: [link] [Previous Chapter] [Fic Masterlist] [Next Chapter]

"Human perfection and technical perfection are incompatible. if we strive for one, we must sacrifice the other… Technical perfection strives toward the calculable, human perfection toward the incalculable." — Ernst Jünger

"Tell me about your last mission. Why did it fail?"

"It didn't."

"Why did it almost fail." Excuse me.

"First shot missed the target."

"Mhmm... Did something get in the way?"

"No."

"Do you think it was a miscalculation on your part?"

"I don't know."

"I... See, I have no idea how shooting works." she laughed. "Did you misjudge the distance, maybe? The wind, the... trajectory?"

"No."

"So why do you think the first shot failed?"

"The shot didn't fail. I failed. And I don't know."

"But you got him the second time. So what went differently?"

"I don't know."

She thought she knew, but she needed to work him through it. A lot depended on it, and it wasn't just her dedication to her career, but to the whole Winter Soldier program. None of the other recruits were remotely as promising, their minds unhinged or too far gone, hours wasted into them and all that brilliant work. If she got it right just this once, they could do so much more, so much...

Hydra's reach tended to exceed their grasp. This led them to be overly ambitious and fail — painfully, and often. She had to remind herself that it led to growth, that perseverance in the face of your own failures was what growth was. But if she could contribute to a move in a new direction, a right direction, she will have accomplished something with her life. Even if she didn't get any credit and was never remembered, as many of the staff often weren't, at least she could have that small knowledge for herself. She certainly didn't have much else: just her job, and distant family, and colleagues that passed for friends.

"I'm going to say three words. Try to remember them: glass, gecko, charity. Say them back."

"Glass. Gecko. Charity."

"Good. And three things you can see in this room. How about... the lightbulb, that metronome over there, and the sink in the corner. Name them."

"The lightbulb. The metronome. The sink."

"Very good. Now I'm going to get you some paper and a pen." She paused mid-way from getting up to ask "Promise you won't stab me with it?"

He stopped to think, and said "I won't. ...Stab you, that is."

With a wry smile, she went to the little table on the other side of the room.

The Director agreed to give the Soldier a cell with a bunk to sleep in, some bare amenities, and now he spent his time there when he wasn't in session with her, or training (which was most of the time) . She couldn't tell if the change in environment or sleeping made any difference. But as the fabric of his speech got looser every time she plucked at it with a barbed question, she was convinced it had to matter.

They had their meetings in a completely different room, with no bars or windows, and no cameras either. It would have been intimidating to anyone else, that sort of consummate interrogation room lifted out of a dystopia, but anything was better than the sterile stench of the lab where they killed him over and over only to start him up again.

And she wasn't afraid that he would hurt her anyway, not when she reminded herself he physically couldn't disobey. The moments when she forgot about that, however...

Nevertheless, he kept almost as still as he had when he was strapped down. He didn't move more than he needed to, and didn't say more than he needed to. But in spite of everything, she felt herself slip into seeing him as just another person, as a man.

Big mistake. He's a machine, a machine, a machine.

But when she turned around and saw him waiting quietly, the body at ease, the mouth sad but relaxed, those large grey eyes tracking her, and behind them a mind so clever, so curious... When she saw him like that, she felt dirty to have ever dehumanised him.

"I want you to draw a clock for me." she said as she placed the paper before him. "Just a circle, with the hours and everything... Set the hands of the clock at sixteen past two."

She sat back down and watched him, looking at how he held her pen — how long had it been? it's not like Hydra needed him to sign any documents, so this was probably the first time he held one since... — how he drew the circle: strong, steady, with almost an artist's precision — how he set the numbers: 12, 6, 3, 9, methodical. He finished in short order and slid the paper back.

"Good." she smiled. "Very good. Now, let's turn it over and..." giving it back to him, blank face up, "let's imagine that's a map of Europe, west to east. Could you point out where Portugal would be? Where do you think... Good. And Iceland? ...Yes. How about Greece? So the Bosphorus runs where?... Good, and where's Sweden? Yes... And do you think you can point where Belarus is? Very good... Can you name their capitals for me?"

"Lisbon. Reykjavik. Athens. Stockholm. Minsk."

"Excellent." she beamed at him for one unguarded second before she looked back down and missed his school-boy smile. "What about those words from before, do you remember what they were? The words I told you to remember?"

"Glass. Gecko. And charity."

"And the things in the room?"

"The lightbulb. The metronome. The sink."

"Very good." Then she took the paper from him, put it in her folder on top of all the other notes, and tucked the pen back in.

"Did you sleep last night?" she asked pointedly, looking him straight in the eyes.

The suddenness of her question didn't seem to put him off, at first. "Yes."

"Did you dream of anything?"

"Y-yes."

"Do you remember what it was about?" Silence. "Soldier, do you remember what it was about?"

"No."

She noticed with a shudder of excitement that he just lied to her — a fraction-of-a-second twitch at the corner of his left eye gave him away. Or maybe she just imagined it...? After all, he shouldn't be able to lie. Right?

"There's nothing wrong with dreaming, you know." she prodded with deliberate sweetness, the same sort she used with the Director, he noticed with displeasure. "Even if it's about bad things... it's a sign of improvement." Silence. "And I won't tell anyone, I promise. This is just between us." Silence. "Alright, well... That's good too."

She made no effort to hide her disappointment, and the Soldier swallowed while he kept the coolth of his eyes on her. He knew she was trying to charm it out of him — and what's more, she wanted him to know she was trying. Just like he wanted her to know that he wanted bitterly, ardently to tell her.

But she either didn't notice or didn't care, and she changed her tone to that of punishing reserve. "Right then, as there's nothing left to our session today, I can let you go."

She got up briskly and gathered her things without looking directly at him, sipping glances from the corner of her eye to his right arm as it rested on the table, pale and muscular and chiselled smooth, up to the round shoulder which disappeared under the t-shirt. A glimpse, further down, of his thick legs in the black combat fatigues.

He got up and followed her as she started walking. She unlocked the room and directed him out with a nudge of her head. They went out together, the Soldier following behind her clipped steps with his particular gait, heavy boots echoing through the corridor in a strut that lilted under the odd weight of his metal arm.

As they approached the T-section of the hallway with the two guardsmen standing ready for him, another man noticed her and stopped to wait, smiling politely. He wore the same lab coat, but with an amalgam of comfy grey sweater and jeans underneath.

"Hello, Kai." she called as they got closer, a genuine smile in her voice.

"Got that report you wanted."

"It finally finished downloading? Thought it was stuck."

"Nah, it was just too big. Maybe we can apply more filters next time."

"Narrow it down, yes..."

She turned to walk with her colleague toward their offices without so much as a parting word while the two guardsmen walked him in the other direction, toward the training facilities. He spared one longing look back, and as if sensing him she turned her head and caught his eyes for one moment, before turning back to the limp-wrist scrag who had her attention.

"How's the test subject?" Kai asked with a knowing smile.

"Fine. He has... excellent neuroplasticity."

"Wow. That good, huh?"

"By the way, did your girlfriend finish her forensics dissertation yet, or...?"

"Such threats are completely unnecessary."

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x OFC #Winter Soldier fanfiction #Winter Soldier x reader #James Buchanan Barnes #The Winter Soldier #Tenderness and Ferocity #bv;fanfiction #Bucky x reader #Bucky x you

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redrobbingabank · 3 years

Text

Destruction

The air surrounding the gathering tonight was heavy with memories. Not since the Final Disc Wars had so many different members of the server been united for the same purpose. Tonight, it was all caused by the same man. As bent as Dream was on tearing them apart, it seemed he only forced them closer.

Tubbo, in his thick brown cape, stood to the right hand side of the table. The silver crown on his head was heavier than he’d ever imagined. Ranboo hadn’t been there when they were supposed to leave. Michael clutched onto his hand, gazing in rapture at Technoblade. After today’s meeting, he’d be sent with him and Phil to live in a more remote location in case Dream went for the nukes. Ranboo had promised to check on him constantly.

The Blade himself had his pig-skull helmet on, the enchantments from his armor shining beneath the red cloak. The skull shadowed his eyes enough to hide the red in them. He stood next to Philza, across the table from Tubbo. The Elytrian stood with his wings folded. His hat was low, like the wind had shoved it farther onto his head while flying. He saw Michael staring, and offered a little wave.

Quackity and Sam were farther down, having a whispered argument. Quackity gestured wildly. These days, it was hard to tell if he was talking about Dream or Las Nevadas. He’d been equally obsessed with both lately. Sam’s face was tight. Over the past weeks, there’d been more and more questions if he was fit to guard the prison. Tonight he could lose his post.

Puffy was silent near the end, a few feet away from where Karl, Sapnap, and George were muttering to each other. Other than the therapy sessions everyone knew Tubbo had forced Tommy to attend, she hadn’t spoken to anyone much. Before what happened happened, she and Sam had conferred on the Egg.

Which was currently a whole other issue that required a whole other council, away from the Bloodvines near the windows, and Purpled in the corner. Despite Quackity buying his services, the majority of the group didn’t trust him, but the need for his skills was too great. He leaned against the wall of the community house. It was too easy to forget he was there.

Tommy stood at the head of the table. The bruises from the prison were still there, black and blue against his skin. He wore the armor that he hadn’t taken off since leaving the prison. Next to him, his shield leaned against the table. Every few seconds, his hand would twitch towards the hilt of his sword, and a look of brief annoyance crossed his face. Finally, he hit the table a few times to quiet everyone down.

“Alright,” he said. All the heads in the room turned to him. Tommy swallowed. The memory of how it felt to lead had been overwritten by the prison. He forged ahead. “We all know why we’re here. Dream breaking out of the prison isn’t a minor concern anymore. It’s going to happen, and we need to be able to get him before he can hurt us.”

“I can take care of him,” Quackity said. “You know I can. Just let me in there.”

“No,” Sam said. “We can’t just kill him. We definitely can’t enjoy it.” He glanced meaningfully at Quackity, who scoffed.

“Why shouldn’t we kill him?” Puffy said. “It can only help us at this point.”

“But we might be able to bring him back!” George protested.

Sapnap looked at him sharply, jaw clenched. His eyes stormed in a mix of anger and despair. “We can’t bring him back, George. Dream is gone. If he ever was who we thought in the first place.”

“But he’s our friend,” George said weakly.

“Not anymore.”

Beside them, Karl scribbled something on a notepad before stuffing it back in his pocket. In the corner, Purpled shifted, looking at something out the window.

“Dream is a plague,” Techno said. “We have to destroy him, or he’ll destroy us. I say we let Quackity kill him.”

Sam braced his hands on the table as if to rise, and Puffy turned to him, mouth already opening to argue. Karl and Sapnap were watching Quackity, who was avoiding their gaze. Before the room could dissolve into chaos, Tommy banged his hand on the table.

“Killing Dream isn’t the question right now,” he said. “He’s got the revive book, we don’t know if there’s a way he could apply that to himself.”

The others looked at him, and he knew what they saw. The sympathy in Puffy’s eyes, the guilt in Sam’s, for a boy who’d been ripped into pieces again and again by the man everyone had looked up to at some point or another. The distance in Phil’s, for his choice to side with a corrupt government that had gotten his second son killed. The skepticism in Quackity and Sapnap’s faces, two people who had fought and won and were probably better suited to stand at the head of the table. Even Purpled in the corner looked faintly amused at his words. Tommy wanted to shrink under their gaze. But then --

“He’s right,” Tubbo said. He gave Tommy his trademark look, calm and clear and loyal to the core. “We need to figure out how to contain him so he can’t get out a second time.”

“He hasn’t even gotten out the first time yet!” Sam protested.

“Face it Sam, it’s going to happen, and it’s going to happen soon,” Tommy said. “We need to be ready when it does.”

“If we just shore up the defenses--”

“Pandora’s Vault is the most secure place on the server,” Quackity cut in. “It can’t be shored up. Not to mention whoever Dream’s got working for him on the outside!” The effect of his words were instantaneous. Suspicious glances were cast around the room, mainly aimed at Purpled and Techno.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Karl started, but Tubbo jumped in.

“Don’t you remember the TNT?” Tommy shuddered at the memory of the explosions.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Techno growled at Sapnap. “It wasn’t me.”

“How do we know?” He shot back.

Everybody started yelling at once. Tommy tried hitting the table again to no avail. The voices echoed off the walls. Together, they all started to sound like Dream. No. Tommy shook his head. “Guys!” he shouted, but was drowned out by a colossal explosion that blew the doors off their hinges. Dream stepped through with Ranboo at his side.

He wasn’t dressed in the orange jumpsuit anymore. Instead, he’d changed back into his old clothes, the green hoodie and jeans with black fingerless gloves. The clothes shivered faintly with enchantments. He was grinning like a lunatic.

Next to him, Ranboo looked listless. He was more like a shell than anything. Purple particles floated around him.

Dream looked around at the group of people who had shot to their feet. Techno, Tommy, and Quackity had their swords drawn. Tubbo’s face was pale as he nudged Michael behind him. From the shadows, Purpled smirked.

“Oh come on,” Dream said. “You’re having a party without me?”

With a yell, Puffy charged him and the room exploded. Dream met her in the middle, sliding down on his knees and slashing at her legs as he went past. Puffy fell to the ground, and Dream rose, readjusting his grip on his sword.

A loud shing of metal rang out as Phil and Techno unsheathed their weapons. “He’s in Enderwalk!” Phil yelled to him. Techno nodded quickly, and together they ran at Ranboo.

Emptily, almost like he was bored, Ranboo raised his hands. With a precise flick, Phil was lifted off his feet and tossed to the side. He screamed as he slammed into the wall. One of his wings, already shaped oddly from the first time they’d broken, hung lopsided. Techno, who had paused to track Phil’s path with a horrified stare, let out a war cry and charged again, only to be thrown backwards. He hit the wall with a crack and slumped to the floor. Blood trickled from beneath the pig skull.

“Ranboo, no!” Tubbo shouted. “What are you doing?”

In the middle of the room by the table, Quackity and Sam were fighting Dream. Quackity was a force of pure rage. He slashed and hacked and swung at Dream. “Why won’t you just die?” he roared.

Dream just laughed. He matched Quackity blow for blow, and then some. None of Quackity’s hits had landed, but Dream had gotten Quackity until blood ran into his eyes and down his arms.

Shoving Quackity away with the flat of his blade, Dream pivoted to block Sam as he swung down at Dream’s head. For a moment, they were suspended, eyes locked. Dream grinned like a hyena. “Hey Sam.”

The fear in Sam’s eyes was palpable. Don’t let him hurt anyone else don’t let him hurt anyone else don’t let him hurt anyone else protect Tommy ran through his head on repeat. Dream shoved him back and aimed his blade’s arc at Sam’s stomach, just barely avoiding doing critical damage.

Ranboo was walking calmly towards the chest that held the books. Sapnap rushed him, and Ranboo lifted his hand.

“NO! RANBOO, STOP!” Tubbo cried, helpless as he tried to keep Michael behind him. Whatever blast Dream had set off, probably with the help of Wilbur, had damaged the building badly. The ceiling sagged towards the center, creeping ominously.

Tubbo’s scream had drawn Ranboo’s attention. He turned, and at the sight of Michael peeking out from behind him, something sparked in his eyes. He started towards the pair.

Tubbo’s eyes widened. He crouched down facing his son. “Michael, kiddo--”

Tommy jumped between them and Ranboo, sword drawn. “Go!” He yelled to Tubbo, not taking his eyes off Ranboo. “I’ll keep him away.”

“No,” Tubbo protested. “I can talk to him, figure out what’s happening! Something’s wrong. Tommy, take Michael.”

“No!” Tommy yelled. “Get out of here!”

“I’m not leaving Ranboo!” Tubbo yelled back.

Tommy looked at him, blue eyes wide and scared, but determined as well. “Whatever that is, it’s Ranboo, and he’d never forgive himself if you two got hurt. Now, run!”

Tubbo looked at Tommy, face set with resignation. He looked at Ranboo, and the purple sparks coming from him. He nodded quickly, picked up Michael, and ran down the tunnel behind him. He just heard Tommy say, “Hey mate, you’d better stop or I’m gonna start stabbing shit,” before the clashing of steel wiped out everything.

#dsmp #dream smp #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fic #tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #dream #captain puffy #quackity #awesamdude #sapnap #georgenotfound #technoblade #philza minecraft

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ahopelessromantic · 4 years

Text

Florence ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer x Reader (It’s mostly neutral except for one mention of a dress)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: None, Hotch is awesome

Your job isn’t exactly the easiest and you always knew that sometimes, it was going to interfere with your personal life. But when you and Spencer slowly start turning into strangers, you begin to worry.

„You know, if you take a picture it might last longer. “ Your head whipped around just in time to see Emily throw her head back in a cackle. Feeling the slightest bit ashamed you lowered your head to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks. “I can’t help it he’s gorgeous, okay?” You mumbled with a pout. Your gaze had been fixated on Spencer all day or, to be precise, on certain… features of his. Emily rolled her desk chair closer to yours, a teasing grin still on her lips. “What’s got you so interested in your boyfriend though? You’re not normally this… tense.”

You were about to snap back that you weren’t tense at all when Spencer clenched his jaw in concentration and your breath quite literally hitched in your throat. “Is it really that obvious?” You sighed; you gaze once again following the movement of his hands. Prentiss patted your shoulder in the sisterly manner she always displayed around you. “Honey, at this point I think even Hotch noticed. Your eyes have been lusting after Spencer all week as if you hadn’t been dating for a year already. Has it, uh… been long?” You almost choked on nothing but thin air. “Shit, it really is that obvious.” You coughed out once you had remotely recovered. “It’s not easy, you know? Whenever I’m done with my paperwork, he has a geographical profile to get to, and whenever he’s free I’m out kicking down doors with Morgan. And then, in the little downtime we have anyway, we’re either catching up on sleep or interrupted by another emergency. I think it’s been weeks since I’ve even seen his bellybutton.” Emily grimaced. “Okay, weird picture in my head right there. But I get what you mean.” You smiled weakly. “Somehow it felt easier when we had just started dating. We were always so afraid of accidentally losing each other that we didn’t really care about anything else besides ourselves, but now that we’re an established couple it’s like we’ve got these roles to fulfil. Especially since we’re also constantly afraid that Hotch might make a full one-eighty after all and forbid us from being together or something.” “What about the downtime on the jet though? There shouldn’t be any disturbances there?” You gasped. “What the hell Emily?!” There it was again, that devilish grin on her face. “You know what?!” You hissed, trying to fight the smile on your lips. “Forget I ever talked to you about this. You know nothing, Emily Prentiss.” With that, you returned your full attention back to your boyfriend’s hands writing down coordinates on a whiteboard. But of course, now you were watching him with the hint of a grin.

“I miss you, you know that?” You whispered into the darkness of the room, leaning your head against the wall behind you to give Spencer more access to your neck. “Honey, I miss you more. God, has your perfume always driven me that crazy?” You grinned and pulled him against you to capture his lips in a scalding kiss. But of course, like always recently, fate wasn’t kind to the two of you. Your little make-out-session was interrupted by Morgan hammering against the door of the BAU’s bathroom. “We’ve got a case, you two. Wheels up in thirty and please, for the love of God, get your stares under control at least for tonight, okay?” You looked at Spencer, who had a sheepish smile on his face. “Morgan’s been on my case all week because he keeps on noticing me staring at you.” You groaned and buried your head in your hands. “Prentiss has been on mine. She keeps on having to pull me back into reality because I keep getting distracted by you.” For a moment a proud grin hushed across his features at the prospect of being the reason for your distraction, but then he visibly deflated. “I feel like we really need a break from all this.” You nodded sadly. “We really do. I fear what’s going to happen to us otherwise. Am I going to faint at the sight of your ankles like a Victorian lady?” He breathed out a laugh, but the sombre mood remained. “I’ll ask Hotch if we can have a few days off.”

It had all sounded so amazing. You, Spencer, a remote cabin in the mountains and all the time and space to reconnect again. You had both prepared by packing your favourite books, to read to each other, card games, to cheat on each other with, and oversized sweaters, to borrow to each other. You had even already gone grocery shopping to get that out of the way for the short trip into the mountains. But two children had been abducted, and the BAU needed its Team’s full capacities to handle the case. So the reservation had been cancelled, the groceries stored away and the comfortable sweaters exchanged for work-appropriate clothes in your weekender bags.

“I’m exhausted.” Spencer sighed while leaning against you on the jet. The circles underneath his eyes ran deeper than ever before and you couldn’t help the gnawing feeling of worry in your chest. You didn’t just need a break to give your relationship some of its old life back, you needed a break to really recuperate and finally sleep again. “I know, honey.” You murmured and played with his hair. He was knocked out in a matter of minutes, your heavy gaze never lifting from your lover’s tired face. “I’m sorry again, you two.” Hotch quietly spoke after sitting down across from you. You smiled weakly and shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault, please don’t feel like it is. This is just… how our lives are, right?” His ever so worried look wandered from you to a sleeping Spencer leaned against your shoulders. “I used to make excuses that this was just how things were going to be sometimes. But it helped neither me nor Haley nor our marriage. Don’t… let this become your lives’ sole content, okay?” You looked at him a bit helplessly. “But how, Hotch? At this point, I feel like I don’t even know what private time is anymore. The most intimate moment I’ve had with Spencer this month was when he saved me from a bullet. Literally. How are we ever going to balance that?” The smallest of smiles fleeted across his lips. “You can start trying to tomorrow.” You frowned in confusion. “Tomorrow?” “Starting tomorrow, if I see either of you in the BAU, I’ll have to fire you. Sorry. Don’t come back before the week is over.” You were about to protest, but he was already getting up from his seat and you couldn’t move due to your boyfriend being asleep on you. Aaron Hotchner was either the worst or the best boss in the world, you just couldn’t really decide yet.

Aaron Hotchner was the best boss in the world. With a smile you rolled your shoulders, revelling in the warmth that hovered in the air. Spencer was dozing off on the balcony, his hands still clutching a copy of A Room with a View in them, a cup of honey tea standing long forgotten on a little table next to him. He had an innocent, serene look on his face, the slight tan of the Italian sun doing wonders for his complexion. “Amore.”, you whispered carefully not to shock him. He sleepily opened his eyes, the sun painting their colour a molten gold. “Hmm?” He hummed, placing his book next to the mug and pulling you onto his lap. “We have to get going if we want to make it to our tour through the Galleria Degli Uffizi on time.” He closed his eyes again and leaned further into his chair, pulling you with him. “Five more minutes, love. Let me enjoy the view.” You grinned. “You’ve got your eyes closed, Spence.” “Yeah.”, he smiled. “I’m thinking of you in the dress you wore to dinner yesterday.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks. “Before or after I got scampi all over it?” “After it laid on the floor of our room.” You laughed and slapped his shoulder. “Pervertito.”, you hummed. His eyes were watching you now, a lazy grin on his lips. You had missed talking to him like this, without a rush or worry that your shared moment was going to be stolen any minute. As soon as you had realised that Hotch was fully intending on going through with his threat of firing you two if you showed up at work you had booked a short trip to Florence, something Spencer and you had been wanting to do for ages but never got around to do. You didn’t want to lose any more time stealing moments with him, you wanted the time to be yours again. So not even one whole day after the finished case you had already sat on the plane, ready to leave your work behind you for at least a week. And it had been one of your best ideas so far, if not ever. Florence was absolutely stunning. It had enough museums to keep you and your genius boyfriend entertained for months, enough amazing food for you to never get bored of it and a beautiful enough apartment for the two of you to never want to leave again. “What’s your plan?” You asked Spencer at dinner that night. He frowned, putting down his fork for the moment. “My plan?” “About what’s next.”, you elaborated. “I love this, us, here in Italy. And we really needed it. I want to know where we’ll go next, so I have something to look forward to. I thought taking it easy and living into the day was the best way to go for a while, but that way we’ll always allow work to get in the way. We need established times off like this.” He smiled and took your hand across the table. “Okay. Well then, let me see. I’ve always wanted to go to Russia, especially St. Petersburg for the Eremitage. Then Munich, probably. From there we could make a trip to go see Neuschwanstein Castle. Seoul and Busan, to try out all the amazing food markets. Now that I think of it, there are actually tons of places I want to visit with you.” You smiled, a warm feeling bubbling in your chest. “That all sounds amazing. Looks like we still have a lot to see.”

“There they are.” Morgan greeted you with a grin, enveloping you in a tight hug. The Team had all been waiting for your arrival in the bullpen, ready to be complete again. “How was it?”, JJ asked with a wide smile. “Amazing.”, you sighed, leaning back against Spencer who out his arm around you. “We saw Michelangelo’s David, and I’m still not over how gigantic that statue is. And the food, you guys, the food was incredible.” Spencer turned to look at you, and the way his attention was still on you in a room full of people made your spine tingle. “(Y/N) picked a fight with an Italian about wine, though.” You giggled. “I think it was a relative of yours, Rossi.” Rossi rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Probably. Did you bring me my truffle oil though?” “We brought something for everyone, actually.”, you said proudly. “I’ll go get it.” Spencer hummed and pressed a kiss against your temple before disappearing down the hallway. Emily grimaced. “Somehow it was funnier when you were still losing your minds over each other. I had forgotten how lovey-dovey you normally are.” You just grinned at her. “You’ll stop complaining once you see what I got for you.” The banter continued like that, the whole Team just glad to have its old dynamics back, Spencer and yours included. That night you all sat in the conference room and drank the wine you had brought with you, Henry and Jack fast asleep on the sofa with their new toys. Your trip to Florence had been short, but looking around you, you weren’t worried about you and Spencer getting to that point of craziness again. This had been your wake-up call, and you were going to seize it. Italy had been the first of your trips together, but certainly not the last. Soon, the BAU would have a whole wall of postcards from all over the world.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #BAU #BAU Team #BAU x Reader #hotch #criminal minds

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mintmatcha · 3 years

Text

10 Months - Chapter 4

9 months, 1 day

Matsuhana

CW- Angst, mentions of death

Chapter 1-3 on AO3

A/N: i think all the pieces are set now....

“Are you all caught up with My Hero?”

Matsukawa catches the bottle cap against the corner of his counter and, with the heel of his palm, slams down against it, hard enough to pop the cap off. It flies halfway across the room, clattering against the floor before sliding halfway under the fridge. As he walks by, sipping off the foam of his beer, he kicks it deeper into the unknown with the rest of the bottle caps. It would be a nice surprise for the next tenant: a private little collection of bottle caps stashed under every appliance.

"Nah, I'm a couple chapters behind," Mattsun replies as he leaves the kitchen, grabbing the remote along the way. "I'm surprised you're all caught up. Aren't you, I dunno, busy torturing athletes?"

"I have to be!" Iwaizumi groans, propping his feet up against the coffee table to bury himself further into the couch. He's still in his work clothes, the polo shirt struggling to stretch over his thick biceps as he buries his chopstick into the takeaway for another bite. "Bokuto spoils the new chapter for me every week!"

"That guy’s too excited for his own good." Mattsun takes a long swig and sucks air through his teeth, trying to savor the less than appealing flavor of IPA. It’s much too bitter, heavy enough that it sits in his stomach- but it does the job. "Sure you don't want a drink?"

"No, thanks. I have to be at the gym at 5am." Iwaizumi can barely rip his eyes off the screen long enough to pick out the mushrooms in his meal, placing them on a side plate, just like he does every week. As he flops down beside him, Mattsun unpauses the program and music fills the room.

Mattsun isn’t sure how this became a tradition, Wednesday night anime binging, but it was something he really looked forward to. It was a good break from the usual stress of the work week. They could just sit in silence for a couple hours, watch the anime they had recorded through the week, and relax; a rare treat for both of them.

The day sticks to him. It clogs his throat and makes every breath labored, every swallow thick. Usually, he can just ignore it, leave it in the corner of his mind to be lost to time.

But the coffin was so small.

Youth doesn't protect you. It gives you a fake shield of longevity, a shallow promise of tomorrow.

That little girl, face painted with a thick layer of makeup to make her cheeks seem rosy with live, probably had plans for the future, just like Makki does-

He tips the bottle back hard and takes a long drink. Iwa’s eyes meet his over the brown bottle before returning to the screen.

By the second episode and third beer, he’s feeling better. His brain can focus on the fuzzy numbness that pulses through his gums instead of how the parents today were his age, except they looked so much older, aged by tragedy -

Fuck.

He gets up mid-show to grab another. Iwaizumi doesn't look up, even when another bottle cap flies across the room.

The faux marble countertop is marred with multiple jagged chunks missing from the edge, cut all the way down to the wood. He wasn’t getting his security deposit back, but that was fine.

The alcohol must be hitting him already, Mattsun tells himself. That's the only reason his eyes kept wandering to where the hem of Iwa's shirt had ridden up, exposing just a whisper of skin and the middle of a happy trail. Sure, he had always known Iwaizumi to be an attractive guy, but the years of physical training certainly showed. Iwa wasn't his type, but he could definitely appreciate-

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Fuck. Mattsun shakes his head like a dog, trying to knock away whatever sort of nonsense was possessing him. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

Mattsun traces the half circle mark that’s formed on his palm. "I saw Makki the other day," he admits, "We talked for a while."

"Wow, really?" Iwa has forgotten all about the show. He’s moved up to the edge of his sheet, looking at his friend with disbelief. "Didn't think that would ever happen."

"Yeah, me neither," Mattsun drapes himself over the counter, knocking over the empty plastic containers, "He looks like shit."

"Did he tell you?"

Iwa doesn't need to clarify.

"Yeah."

Iwa nods solemnly, nibbling on the end of his chopstick as he thinks about what to say. It’s no secret that Iwa and Makki had stayed friends since graduation, but it was definitely a subject that wasn’t discussed.

A splinter of wood is pressing against Mattsun’s stomach, piercing through his shirt, but he doesn’t stand up. Instead, he digs more of his weight against it. The sharpness of the pain detracts him from the guilt.

“It’s sad.” It’s the only thing Mattsun can think of. “Tragedy.”

Iwa and Mattsun's friendship was usually based on being quiet. They were always surrounded by louder personalities, people who demanded attention, so they usually just enjoyed shutting up with each other. Mattsun can't remember talking about anything of merit with Iwa. Ever.

And that's the way they liked it.

"I'm glad you hung out. I think he's been lonely since-" Iwa stops himself.

"Since what?"

"It's not my place to tell you, just…." he says, "It's been a pretty bad year for Maks. I bet he's glad you made up."

"Let's not go that far. We just talked."

He doesn't mention the planning. Something about it feels sacred between them.

A question nips at the back of his mind. He shouldn’t address it, but-

"Hey, did Makki ever talk to you about me? About why we fought?" Mattsun, pretending to watch the television, rests his head in his hands. His palms are slick with sweat, nervous about the answer.

"No," he can see from the corner of his eye that Iwa is still watching him and yet a wave of relief crashes over him, "Whenever it came up he told me it was 'Mattsun's story to tell'."

Good. The secrets are still safe.

"Maybe I'll tell it at his funeral," Mattsun raises his empty bottle in a fake toast, "Make a whole big speech about why the man of the hour hates my guts."

"Matsukawa! That's- that's not funny. What's wrong with you?" Iwa sneers, "I don't want to think about that."

He shrugs. "Me neither."

The early morning is still painted black, the sun still tucked away behind the city’s skyline. The only light that peers into the room is from under the door, a low glow that creeps all the way from the kitchen. If he listens, Mattsun can almost make out the voices of Makki’s parents, keeping their voices low so as to not wake the rest of the house. From his place on the floor, nestled in a lumpy, half stuffed futon, Mattsun stares at the ceiling. The glow in the dark stars had long lost their color, but he could still make out their borders. If he really focused, he could ignore that strangling tightness in his chest-

night

"Issei." Makki's voice cuts through the silence, groggy, "You awake?"

“Yeah.” he sighs, "Can't sleep."

"That futon sucks," Makki shuffles in his sheets before peering over the edge of his bed. Strange planes of his face are illuminated but the low light, and yet that tightness in his chest only gets worse. Sleepovers weren’t uncommon- in fact, they did them almost every night before a game, so they could make it to school together- but lately they were changing. More awkward pauses, more knees brushing against each other under the table as they did homework together, more quick turns away when the other was changing.

"Sucks major dick." Mattsun agrees.

Maybe all friendships go through this.

"Just sleep up here. We've slept closer on-"

Mattsun doesn’t let him finish justifying himself. He gets up, toting his pillow under his arm, and stands at the edge of the bed where Makki lays. The eagerness of his actions are so embarrassing, but that doesn’t slow him. Under the covers, Makki’s form was just a long, misshapen lump.

This is what friends do.

"Move over."

Friends sleep next to each other sometimes.

"This is my side."

"I'm not crawling over you- move over."

"Or what?” Makki teases under his breath, quiet enough not to be heard in the hall.

"Or I'm going to sleep on top of you."

"You wouldn't dare." He says it like an invite, with a smile.

Friends joke around like this.

Mattsun lifts his knee onto the raised part of the blanket, accidentally (accidentally?) separating Makki's legs. Time seems to stretch as he lowers himself down onto his elbows, giving Makki every chance to protest, but the blonde just watches with wide eyes and parted lips. He uses a melon flavored chapstick during the day. Does the flavor linger?

Chest against chest, so close yet parted by layers of fabric. Makki lets out a groan when the weight finally fully drops. It's an innocent sound, just a protest, but suddenly Mattsun is thankful for the space between them because he hides the way his body shutters.

This must be what a stroke feels like. Pressure builds behind his face, like his brain can't process everything happening right now.

Friends do this. Friends rough house, friends sleep.

“Would you still be my friend if I do something stupid?" Makki interrupts his thoughts with a hand. It hovers inches away from Mattsun's cheek, cupping the air. His fingers are trembling and Mattsun thinks, despite his confident grin, Makki might be nervous.

“How stupid?” Mattsun’s voice cracks, despite how low he keeps it. His face would fit perfectly in the palm of his hand if he were to just gather the courage to close the gap. He tries to repeat to himself, friends, friends, friends, but there’s a louder voice in the base of his head that asks for more, more, more.

“Like, actually stupid.”

Mattsun closes his eyes with a deep breath and headbutts Makki’s hand. The trajectory is off, his chin barely scrapes by his fingertips, but the touch is cool against his blushing skin, so cool that it burns into his memory. “I’ll always be your friend, even if you’re stupid.”

His left leg is halfway off of the bed, dangling there, but he doesn’t dare move. Makki’s trying his best to shift under his weight, pressing up onto his other elbow in sudden, jerking movements. Nothing happens for a moment and Mattsun worries he’s misread the situation, that the electricity in the air was all in his mind.

Then, so gently that he thinks it’s his imagination, breath tickles his nose right before lips meet his. Neither of them move at first, but waiting for a protest-

Friends don’t do this.

Makki doesn’t taste like melon, he tastes like sleep. The drag of his stubble against his chin is rough, so harsh compared to the plush softness of his lips, but he wants to feel more of it- feel it against his entire face, his neck, his chest-.

Excitement takes over. As he tries to deepen the kiss, teeth clash against teeth. Makki flops back down, holding his mouth.

“Ow, what the fuck-”

“Sorry- I’ve never-”

Makki runs his tongue over his front teeth, checking for any chips. “You suck at this.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“It’s fine,” His hand is pressed against the small of Mattsun’s back. His fingers are thick, yet long, the span of his hand taking up nearly half of his back. “We can practice.”

“I’m fine.” His voice is flat, far too blunt.

He doesn’t turn to face Mitsuri as he gathers himself, heartbeat still racing right under the skin, but he arches away from her touch. The bare skin of her thigh rubs against the back of his and he has to swallow back his sneer.

“You sure? I-”

“‘Kawa, sweetie.” a small hand, curled into a ball, is pressed into the center of his back when he jolts awake. “You’re talking in your sleep- are you okay?”

“Positive.”

“Oh,” she swallows. “I love you.” Dejection clings to her voice as she withdrawals back to her own side.

He doesn’t respond.

“I said I love you.” she repeats.

“Love you too.” he says, out of obligation more than anything.

What kind of monster wouldn't tell his fiance that he loved her?

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