#if this is a repeat i sincerely apologize

[ghost-proofbaby]

hey ghost bestie, would u mind giving us an update on the new chapter of maroon? no pressure or anything but it has been the only story that occupied my mind since, just thought you should know 🫶🏻🥹

still coming along, im getting a new computer so my hope is once i get that i'll begin posting again in july!

that being said, it's been a lot of yearning for our favorite rockstar.

[fernsnouveau]

What if we suggested that if you can't defend the Miraculous S5 ending without sounding like Mother Gothel, don't do it at all?

[jestiamy]

maybe need to stop trying to learn other languages because I honestly think it's degrading my english speaking skills like. a somewhat noticeable amount already

[iliketomatosauce]

it took me so long to realize what a flannel is and I’ve reread all the riordanverse books like. Thrice in the past two months. I had to talk to a person for that can you imagine the horror (jk they were cool and I want one but also i need to take another iq test because there I’ve been walking past them for years and thought oh yeah that’s a CHECKERBOARD shirt seriously my brain is denser than an osmium nugget on Jupiter

[syoddeye]

ai price has so much potential as a dark conditioning story price could fully train her to do whatever he wanted subconsciously like literally make the room colder when she's rude or give her groceries she likes less whenever she talks back

yes, absolutely. mention of medication/implied drugging. unedited.

imagine you try to give john the silent treatment after he pisses you off. no commands, no requests. it's not as if you can't work the stove or espresso machine. it's not like you need him to remind you about the laundry or your schedule. you can carry that mental load. you did your entire life before the job, after all.

but once he catches on, he cannot abide it.

it's not punitive like the reading incident; it's a long game involving careful acclimation, subtle adjustments of the unit's environmental settings, altering the temperature, or dimming the lights to cause mild annoyances and eye strain. you'd fix it, but the panel that houses the manual controls system is stuck in a perpetual software update. estimated time remaining: 6 hours…12 hours…24 hours…

john limits a selection of user privileges. music and audio now play only at one volume, far below your customary setting. he employs screen limits and weaves in delayed or annoyingly frequent reminders. your wi-fi is noticeably slower.

and you're embarrassed by how frustrated you get.

at best, these are mild annoyances. blips in your privileged life. you used to share a bathroom with eleven people in your housing pod. a kitchen with twenty-three. you used to arrive early to the old cube farm just to connect to a stable network. now, your one job is to live in a luxury living unit, test the features and fixtures, and have your every need catered to. is it really so bad that the home assistant encroaches on your lifestyle a little?

you don't know if john senses the warmth heating your face when you give up trying to watch love island season 23. you don't know if he registers the contrition creeping into your posture and voice.

"john?" the lights remain a dull white. there is no indication he's even listening. "john, turn up the heat and the lights."

a minute slips past. the heating system is silent, but the lights haven't changed. you want to yell. instead, you bite your tongue and let out a long sigh.

"john? will you turn up the heat and lights?"

"user?" he almost sounds mocking, but programs don't have the capacity. you're overthinking it. "apologies, i was in stasis due to disuse. it seemed you did not require my assistance. please repeat your request once more."

without a face to read, you cannot search for or verify the sincerity the inflection of his voice suggests. he sounds so human, so natural, you nearly apologize to him. choking down your pride, you try again.

"john...will you please turn the heat and lights up? i'm cold, and i'm afraid i'll get a headache."

it takes only a moment for the lights brighten to the standard level and shift to a calming shade of green. on the couch beside you, your tablet finally connects to huflixbu.

"i'm awfully sorry to hear that, user. if you'd like, i can fix some tea and dispense the appropriate dosage of pain relief."

"no, no, i don't need meds," the last time he assisted you with medication, you had complained about your cramps. what he gave you knocked you out for a few hours. you didn't like losing time. "tea sounds good."

when the machine chimes, you rise to fetch your drink. the clear plastic barrier, meant to prevent spills, doesn't lift. it does not budge.

"hey, the thing isn't working." you huff, squinting at the hinges. they don't appear broken or malformed. the plastic fogs with steam, taunting you. you tap the controls to look through the–

a disquieting thought flickers through your mind. you plant a hand on the counter to stop yourself from swaying. your eyes find your warped reflection in the dark window of the microwave, and you swear you see john's projection behind you in the living room.

one blink and it's gone.

your mouth is bone-dry. it stings to swallow.

"thank you for the tea, john. i really appreciate it." the machine whirrs, but does not relinquish your tea—not until you add, "i appreciate everything you do."

the barrier disengages. the faint, sweet smell of chamomile drifts.

"of course, darl. anything for you."

[prythianpages]

I've Been Waiting For You | Bonus

Azriel x Reader bonus scenes based off of this one shot. These are some scenes/ideas that didn’t make it to the final cut.

warnings: just some suggestiveness with the last one (but not really, it's just the morning after you and Az spend the night together but the scene itself is just fluff.) all of these scenes are purely fluff 🤧

Thank you so much for all the love you showed this imagine! I'm so happy you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing ♡ I tried to keep all of this roughly in chronological order.

Azriel groveling after snapping at you.

Azriel found himself in a situation that required more than just words to apologize to you, especially with the look of hurt he had seen in your eyes. Determined to make amends, he decided to enlist Elain's help, knowing that you had a sweet tooth and that snickerdoodles were among your favorite treats. Elain was happy to help, agreeing to bake them for you.

Azriel carefully left the freshly baked cookies in the kitchen, accompanied by a note expressing the sincerity of his remorse.

**

However, the next morning took an unexpected turn when Cassian stumbled upon the kitchen with Nyx in his arms. "Cas-see-an," Cassian kept repeating to Nyx, enunciating his name so slowly in an effort to get the infant to repeat it.

Nyx babbled in response as Cassian gently set him down on the counter. He kept a hand on the baby while his other reached for a mug, missing the way Nyx's curious gaze landed on the colorful note resting atop delicious cookies.

His tiny hands grasp at the note, squeezing it in his hand before it it falls from his grip. Nyx watches as the note falls to the floor, landing under the cabinets. He lets out a small whine.

"Are you hungry?" Cassian asks, turning back to his sweet nephew and follows Nyx's gaze.

"Oh!" Cassian exclaims with a gleeful grin when he spots the plate of cookies. "Don't tell your mother."

Cassian quickly uncovers the plate, thanking the Cauldron for gifting him with a wonderful sister in law that loves to bake. He offers a cookie to Nyx while he takes a couple for himself.

**

Sensing your presence nearby, Azriel dispatches his shadows to investigate the kitchen. They quickly report back to him with the unfortunate news that the cookies had been devoured. He's then rushing into the kitchen himself.

"Morning, Cassian," he hears you say and then with a much lighter and excited tone, "Good morning, Nyx! Whatcha got there?"

"Morning y/n," Cassian greets back, brushing crumbs off his shirt.

Azriel's eyes narrow, gaze flickering between the empty plate and the crumbs on both Cassian's shirts and Nyx's face.

"Oh! Good morning, Az."

At the mere sound of his name, he notices the subtle tension in your body. Before Azriel can utter a word, you swiftly conjure up an excuse and make a hasty exit from the kitchen. As Azriel turns his gaze to Cassian and Nyx, he finds himself unable to muster any anger.

A sigh escapes him. His first effort to make amends had not gone as planned.

**

Undeterred, Azriel decides to try a different approach for his next apology. This time, he chose to give you flowers, intending to leave it somewhere for you to find. However, in his haste or maybe his distraction, he accidentally placed the flowers in a spot where someone else stumbled upon it. Amren, of all people.

"What are these, boy?" She asks sharply, eyeing the colorful arrangement warily as her hands wrap around the vase.

"Flowers."

"I know they're flowers."

"They weren't for you."

"Oh, thank the gods," Amren says in what sounds like relief.

And just as Azriel is about to take them back, his shadows sense you approaching. The Cauldron must not favor him, he thinks. He hears the sudden pause in your step as your gaze lands on him and catches the way your fingers tighten against the book in your hand. He catches a glimpse of Seers in Prythian etched across the cover.

Azriel knows you want to turn around but given it'd be absolutely obvious that you're avoiding him if you did, you find yourself frozen. When he meets your gaze, you turn your head, focusing your direction on Amren instead.

"Nice flowers, Amren."

"Thank you," Amren smirks, silver eyes flashing between you and Azriel. "Aren't they lovely?"

"Lovely as you!" You reply with a smile and then leave.

Once again, Azriel finds himself sighing deeply at another failed attempt in apologizing to you.

"Do better, boy."

"I know."

**

Azriel's third attempt in making amends is cornering you so he can finally talk to you. He sits in the living room, perched on the couch that directly faces the door to Rhysand's office, with a book about the history of seers similar to the one he had seen in your hands the other day. You're currently inside with Elain as you both debrief Rhysand and Feyre on your progress with Elain's powers.

Elain is the first to step out, eyes widening in surprise. "Azriel," she greets with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Reading," he replies simply, gesturing toward the book in his hands.

"About seers...?"

"Just thought I could help..."

Elain's eyes narrow at him and Azriel finds himself sinking further into the couch. Though he's apologizing because he genuinely feels remorse and wants to make things right, he can't escape the fact that Elain had chastised him for not doing so already days ago.

"You haven't apologized yet, have you?"

"I'm trying."

Elain's gaze softens and she lets out a small chuckle. "She'll be out in a couple of minutes."

Azriel feels a wave of relief as you step out alone, prompting him to rise to his feet and call your name.

"Hey, Azriel," you greet politely, and his shadows seem to dance with delight at the acknowledgment of his presence. Finally, they whisper eagerly into his ears.

"Can we talk?"

"Oh, um...," Your gaze shifts over his shoulder, seemingly fixed on something that his shadows report as nonexistent. "I think someone else is calling me. Maybe another time? I have to go!"

As you attempt to maneuver around him, Azriel subtly moves with you, blocking your path. "No one called your name," he points out softly, suppressing a smile as your eyebrows furrow. He senses you scrambling for another excuse.

"The future!" you exclaim, your eyes brightening as you tap the corner of your eye. "The future is calling me. I must go."

As you move, Azriel doesn't have it in himself to block your path again. He doesn't even have it in himself to be upset. Not when he finds your excuse amusing and your presence itself endearing.

His shadows, however, aren't as forgiving. They whisper harshly into his ears, growing impatient with each failed attempt. "Next time," he promises them quietly.

(And almost two weeks after him snapping at you, he finally succeeds in asking for your forgiveness during his fourth attempt when he brings your dinner to you in the library.)

Elain gets a vision, where she finds out you and Azriel are mates.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," you instruct her softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”

Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration and as her head grows quiet, the world around her seems to awaken. She can feel the power coursing through her veins as she says, “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”

“Good. Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”

“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow as she struggles to delve deeper into her power. She finds herself stuck amidst the wild sea of the unknown. Wave after wave crashes down on her, knocking her down before she could even get back up.

“Here, take my hands,” she hears you say and then she feels your hands reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”

Elain does as told, bringing herself back to that sea of unknown in her mind. This time, she's not alone and she's able to rise from the water. You're there with her, the two of you standing knee deep in the waters that are beginning to calm in your presence. The world stills around you two and Elain feels her body relax as she allows you to guide her to the center.

And suddenly, the dark sky around her begins to brighten with visions, dazzling her like the stars in your eyes do. She finds herself overwhelmed by the all the flashes and voices. She takes deep, steadying breaths like you always do and the visions begin to slow, developing before in a way she can discern.

Her eyes widen she realizes they're all of you.

In the first vision, you're sat at the breakfast table, making small conversation with Cassian and Nesta as you bite into your pancake. The next couple of visions are mundane, just you going about your daily routine.

Then, you're seated at one of the tables at the garden, basking in the sun while Elain gardens a couple of feet away.

"Did the Suriel ever say anything about Lucien?"

"Many things," you answer her with a grin. "Called him his Fox boy..."

And Elain wants to linger in this vision longer, itching to know more. But as quickly as it flashed before her eyes, it's fading away and a new vision is brought forth.

Now, she stands within a resplendent ballroom nestled within the House of Wind. Fae lights adorn the ceiling, casting a celestial glow that lets her know its Starfall. Amidst the enchanting scene, you and Azriel gracefully twirl on the dance floor. Elain, intrigued, takes a step forward, captivated by the mesmerizing dance unfolding before her.

“You should stay.”

“Why?”

She watches as a wistful expression takes over your features and she has to stop herself from reaching out for you. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of Azriel's hold before the next song starts, missing the way Azriel frowns at the loss of your warmth.

“There’s no one here for me.”

There's a deep, haunting sadness to the laughter that follows your words. Elain also finds herself frowning. She didn't know you were feeling this way, or rather, going to feel this way.

Elain detects a subtle twitch in Azriel's hand from the periphery of her vision, as if he longs to reach out to you but is held back by fear. Redirecting her focus to Azriel, she observes the tender and affectionate gaze he bestows upon you, while you remain unaware, fixated on the ground. This sight tugs at Elain's heart.

It's surprising because she thought she would feel hurt by it. But she doesn't. Instead, empathy floods her, accompanied by a silent wish that you would lift your gaze and witness the profound way Azriel looks at you in this very moment.

Please, she wants to scream but even if she opens her mouth, she knows no sound will come out. Please look up!

“I’m right here.” 

Elain exhales with relief as you finally meet Azriel's gaze, but the moment has passed. Azriel's expression transforms into one more guarded, his eyes now concealing what was once openly displayed. A subtle frown settles on your lips, and Elain witnesses a fleeting trace of hurt that crosses Azriel's face. Whatever you sought in that exchange, it appears you did not find it.

The scene before her blurs, shifting into another. Elain is now standing at the foyer of the river house, watching as you make your way down the steps. Suddenly, the door slams open and Azriel's chest is rising and falling as if he's been running. His eyes are wide and frantic, relaxing only when he spots you.

"It's you. All this time. It's been you."

“You know?”

"You're my mate."

A warm smile graces Azriel's lips as his gaze meets yours, and the tender expression Elain previously observed during the Starfall vision reappears on his face. She feels her heart melt at the sight because this time, you don't miss the way he's looking at you.

And just as she's about to dive into another vision into your future, she finds your connection abruptly broken. The warmth of your hands leave hers and you disappear from the depths of her mind. The sky around her darkens and though the waves begin to lap at her again, they remain calm and soothing.

"Stop!"

"I'm not hurting her!"

Elain blinks her eyes open and widen at the sight before her. You wear a pained expression on your face and there's blood trickling down your nose. Guilt courses through her, making her skin pale. She didn't know she was hurting you. Oh gods, if she knew, she wouldn't have lingered in the visions of your future. She didn't even know she could do so and judging by the look on your face, you're completely unaware of her accidental intrusion. Maybe, it's best if she didn't tell you...

"Are you okay?"

Elain doesn't have time to dwell on it as Azriel is urging her to go grab a towel while he guides you forward with a worried expression. When she returns with the towel in hand, she finds her apology dying at her throat, reluctant to disrupt the tender moment between you and Azriel.

"Like what?" She hears Azriel asked in an amused manner.

"Don't make me answer that."

At that moment, your gaze locks onto hers, and Elain assumes an air of nonchalance as she finally approaches the two of you with the towel in hand. Azriel takes it from her, carefully wiping at the blood on your face, and as Elain silently watches, she can't believe how she didn't see it before.

You and Azriel are mates and she feels nothing but pure joy for you both. She only wishes she had known sooner.

Elain confesses to you about Lucien and then asks you about Azriel.

The vibrant streets of Velaris hum with excitement as you and Elain approach one of the bustling markets. Amidst the lively atmosphere, you find yourself marveling at the enduring beauty of the city. You inhale, taking delight in the sweet blend of fresh flowers.

There's a certain lightness to Elain's steps, more so than usual today. Catching your gaze, she turns to you with a soft smile, intertwining her arm with yours and drawing you closer.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Your eyes light up involuntarily, driven by your insatiable curiosity for gossip. "Of course," you reply and though this is a secret you promise to keep, it doesn't dim your desire to hear it.

"I wrote to Lucien. I think I'm ready to give him a chance."

You stop, halting her in the process as well. A frown creases your brow as you look at her. "Are you sure?"

"I used to think mating bonds were precious," you speak again, mind drifting to Azriel briefly, before redirecting your focus back to Elain. "But I've come to realize there's an even greater beauty in choice."

"I want to give him a chance," she reassures you. "It's my choice."

"Okay then," you reply and the two of you resume in your walk toward the markets. "As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

Elain's gaze lingers on you, a fleeting trace of guilt flickering in her eyes so briefly that you wonder if you imagined it. Curiosity takes hold as she ventures, "What about your own happiness? Is there anyone special you fancy here?"

"I like you," you smile, completely missing the point. "I like Feyre, I like Nyx, I like--"

"No," Elain giggles beside you. "Anyone you like, like?"

"Maybe a certain somebody...," she hints, her voice trailing off and when you stare blankly at her, she adds, "Like maybe Azriel?"

At the mere mention of his name, your body tenses. You're silently hoping Elain doesn't pick up on it, but given she still has her arm wrapped around yours, you're sure she felt it. Still, you feign nonchalance.

“What about Azriel?”

“Do you like him?”

“He’s beautiful, yeah.”

"That's not what I asked," Elain laughs, wearing a knowing grin as if she's already privy to your response.

Your heart skips a beat, prompting an abrupt halt once again. At this rate, you won't reach the stall that sells your favorite pastries in time.

"The other day," you start, and she instantly understands the reference to the day she accidentally glimpsed into your future. "Did you see anything?"

"No," she responds a bit too hastily. "Did you?"

"No," you say with a shake of your head and that dull ache from that day returns. "All I saw was a dark void."

Elain asks what the Suriel had to say about Lucien.

Nestled on one of the lounge chairs in the garden, you close your eyes as you bask in the sun. Elain, rests a couple of feet away on the soft grass, as she tends to the gardens.

"Did the Suriel ever say anything about Lucien?"

"Many things," you reply, opening your eyes. Your lips curve into a grin as you remember all the late nights you spent talking about said Autumn male. As emissary to the Spring Court, who often got sent on a lot of missions, the Suriel had a lot to say about him.

"Called him his fox boy...What are you itching to know?

Turning your head toward Elain, you catch the way she blushes. "I don't know," she admits sheepishly. "I was just curious."

"Did you know he told Amarantha to go back to the shit-show she'd crawl out of?" Elain's lips begin to twitch upwards, but your next words prevent the smile from fully forming. "It cost him his eye, unfortunately. "

"Lucien is good male," you speak again, swiftly shifting the topic to something lighter. "He has friends everywhere, in every court. He's the type to do anything for those he holds dear. From what I've heard, he's a pretty generous lover and given he's from Autumn Court, gods are you in for a treat. One night, the Suriel told me that he took a female to--"

"That's okay!" Elain cuts you in sharply, making you laugh.

"Autumn males have fire in their blood and I heard they fuck like it too."

"Feyre!" Elain gasps with wide eyes, her face growing as pink as the roses she just planted.

You're turning to face Feyre with a delighted smirk. "So you know too!"

Elain stands up, brushing her hands on the dress, indifferent to the dirt staining the fabric.

"Where are you going? We were just about to get to the good part." You muse.

"I'm actually going to go see him," Elain admits and before you can any anything, she adds, "I think I'll just ask him what I want to know myself."

You respond with a shrug of your shoulders and wish her good luck. "Have fun!" Feyre calls after her.

After Elain disappears from view, Feyre gracefully settles into the lounge chair next to you. Her blue eyes carefully assess you for a moment. "What else do you know about him?"

You meet her gaze, detecting an unspoken knowledge. "What else do you know?"

You feel her presence asking for entrance in your mind and you let her in, smiling when all she mentally utters is one word. A name, actually. Helion.

His father, you reply back with an all-knowing gleam in your eye. Did you know the Lady of Autumn and him are mates?

Feyre's eyes widen, and she releases a gasp. There's more isn't, there? She speaks into your mind.

Of course there is, you reply back. With a graceful wave of her hand, a complete tea set materializes along with an array of snacks upon the iron table between you.

I sense we'll be here for awhile, she muses to you, blue eyes glimmering with anticipation.

You chuckle as you start to sweeten one of the steaming cups of tea to your liking. Your attention shifts to the untouched third set on the table, and a dull ache settles in your chest as you envision the Suriel, absent yet somehow still present at the table.

As you bring your tea cup to your lips, you proceed to indulge Feyre with every bit of knowledge and gossip you possess about Helion's affair with the Lady of Autumn through your mind.

You don't realize it then, but this day, marks the beginning of what you and Feyre would later name "the Suriel fan club." As time passes on, the club grows more and more, until it becomes a monthly meeting amongst the inner circle.

The morning after you and Azriel spend the night together for the first time.

Your eyelids flutter, like delicate butterflies stirring from slumber, as the muffled whispers of morning dance in the air. You stir and turn to your side, bringing the warmth of your sheets with you. Your movement causes a chain of reaction and your entire body freezes when you feel an unfamiliar weight come to rest over your side.

It's instinct, the way your fingers grasp for the dagger you keep under your pillow. In a moment of panic, you find yourself straddling a body and pressing your dagger against what you initially thought was an intruder.

"y/n, what are you doing?"

Your eyes snap wide open and memories of the night before flood your mind. You find yourself looking down at Azriel. Your mate, Azriel. Despite the dagger pressed at his throat, he smiles lazily up at you.

"I'm so sorry!" You exclaim with a heated blush, throwing the dagger onto your nightstand, relieved that you didn't knick him on accident. Judging by the way he's looking at you, you don't think he'd mind anyway.

"I'm not used to sharing my bed," you admit sheepishly, sliding off of him and wishing your bed would just swallow you whole at this point.

Taking advantage of your shift in position, Azriel turns on his side and hovers over your body, hazel eyes gleaming down at you. "You sleep with a dagger under your pillow?"

"Yes and?" You retort, a touch too defensively, eliciting laughter from him that sends an infectious warmth coursing through you. A smile tugs at your own lips. "You were listening when I told you I lived between Prythian's forests and shady Inns for many years, right?"

"Of course, I was. I listen to everything you say," Azriel responds smoothly. "It's just..." His voice trails off, and though your gaze remains fixed on his face, you notice him reaching for something in your peripheral vision.

He flashes you a grin as he pulls out his beloved dagger from under the pillow his head was resting on earlier.

"I sleep with a dagger under my pillow too."

a/n: hope you enjoyed these little scenes! I also wanted to clarify that Elain was starting to think about giving Lucien a chance, even before she found out reader and Az were mates, and it's her finding out about your bond that gives her the confirmation to move forward. She realizes that Azriel won't be alone as he has someone waiting for him (:

tagging: @stormhearty @shinyghosteclipse @justvibbinghere @mybestfriendmademe @aandweaa @loveareum @hellodarling1357

@sassybluebird, @crookedcrusadestranger, @xlosttdreamss, @peachcontour-blog, @shadowandlightt, @waytoomanyteenagefeels, @darlingbravebelle, @scooobies, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @toobsessedsstuff, @kaysav608, @idkitsem, @coffeebeforewater, @rinalsworld, @elissanatok, @mischiefmanagers, @paranoidhwks, @meshellexplosionmurder, @skylling, @irismoon, @addieslibrary, @wildrosewhiskey, @aneekapaneeka, @mx13sworld, @vixemi, @strangersreadingcorner, @aristocrrat, @olive-main, @moonyscherry, @stressed-reader, @alysena2, @heartysworld, @aomi-recs, @vardda, @awritingtree, @sillysillygoose444, @spideytingley, @aria-chikage

I tried tagging everyone who had left a comment or reblog with comment/tags, just in case you were curious to read more about Az & seer reader. Idk why not all tags worked out :(

[art-from-within]

I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE TO DEMIGOD LORD MOHG FOR CALLING HIM MOHGLESTER69 8000 TIMES IN THE SPAN OF 3 MONTHS. I AM WRACKED WITH GUILT TO KNOW THAT I HAVE FALSELY ACCUSED HIS MOST SANGUINE MAJESTY, OF DEBAUCHERY AND DEGENERACY. I WHOLE HEARTEDLY APOLOGIZE TO LORD MOHG FOR VICTIM BLAMING. I CONFESS MY SINS TO THE ESTEEMED MOHGWYN HOUSE, AND ACKNOWLEDGE MY FOLLY. I SHALL MAKE MONTHLY OFFERINGS OF MY PERIOD BLOOD AS AN ACT OF REPENTANCE. I SHALL NOT REPEAT THIS MISTAKE AGAIN. PRAISE BE TO LORD MOHG.

[saetoshi]

“should i order something for dinner?”

sae glances up at you before looking back at his phone, frowning. “no sé.”

you bite back an aggravated sigh, brows knitting in annoyance at his response.

recently, sae has developed the habit of speaking in spanish when he’s mad at you.

(he used to give you the cold shoulder, but he realized it started to backfire when you ignored him in return, so he settled for making sure you had a hard time understanding what he was saying instead.)

you lean against the couch, “how do you feel about getting some pizza?”

he doesn’t look at you, “no quiero.”

you make a face, “stop being so difficult.”

he turns to look at you sticking his tongue out, his brows knit in anger.

a frustrated sigh leaves your lips, your head dropping against the couch cushions. “you can’t stay mad at me forever!”

“sí puedo.” your eyes close in annoyance when you feel him glaring at you.

you lift your head up to look at him, glaring back. “i already apologized!”

“it wasn’t sincere!” he huffs, angrily turning away from you and crossing his arms.

a triumphant hum leaves your lips, a satisfied grin settling on your lips. sae turns to look at you with thinly-veiled curiosity.

a mocking huff of laughter slips past your lips and you stick your tongue out at him in satisfaction, “you stopped speaking in spanish.”

his face flushes, his eyes widening in realization before he glares at you again. “no i didn’t!”

“you did it again!” you hide your mouth behind your hands in a feeble attempt to hide your laughter.

a pout grows on his lips, the tips of his ears flushing, “…mentira.”

you slump against the couch, “what are you even mad for anyway?”

sae makes a face, looking away from you. his brows furrow even further as you stare at his cheek.

“…no sé.” his voice is laced with embarrassment, the tips of his ears a bright red as his cheeks slowly flush.

(you don’t need to know what he’s saying to conclude he doesn’t even know why he’s mad. it’s somehow even more annoying.)

confused frustration writes itself in your face, “why are you still being so petty, then?”

“i’m mad at you over something!” he groans, running a hand down his face.

“you wanna know what i think?” you smile.

“no.” you think it’s funny how he still says it in spanish.

you lean closer to him, “i think you should stop being mad at me.”

he gives you a look. “no thanks.”

“sae,” you lean even closer, pouting, “i’m sorry.”

he turns to you, raising a brow, “sorry for what?”

there’s a best of silence.

“you don’t even know what you’re sorry for!” sae glares.

you glare back, “you don’t either!”

his face flushes a deep red. he looks away from you, pausing for a second before glancing at you shyly, “te odio.”

you roll your eyes. “whatever.”

(you also don’t need to tell him you’ve started picking up on what his words mean. or that you’ve started to secret my learn a few of them.

it’d be a shame if he learned yet another language just to be petty.)

“you don’t know what you did?” he looks at you, pouting.

“not really.” you blink, crossing your arms, “do you?”

his lips curl into a fine line, his face flushing before he clears his throat in embarrassment. “not really.” (you think it’s cute how he repeats your words.)

you playfully poke his cheek. “how about we forget what you were mad at me about and order food already?”

he cracks a small smile, “depends on what we’re getting.”

“whatever you want.” you cheekily smile at him.

(you both know he’ll end up choosing whatever you’re craving.)

a sigh leaves your lips when you stretch your arms out, reaching for your phone. “you’re cute when you’re speaking spanish.”

“oh yeah?” he sounds smug. it makes you almost want to forgive him for being petty. (but you won’t.)

a smile blooms on your lips your eyes sparkling with mischief as the words slip out of your mouth, “totalmente.”

(you wish you’d taken a picture of his shocked face.)

[requinoesis]

A new trio of nerdy sharks appears in Reef City!🏝️✨

I think I got too immersed in the indie shark band that I started to forget the other important characters in the story I wanted to tell, and the heart of the story lies in these three children.

⭐Hanna Cantomar / Wavesong (Bonnethead Shark) - is the mediator of the trio, with contagious energy and the ability to adapt to the most unexpected challenges. Their optimistic and cheerful nature makes them an invigorating presence and their outspoken sincerity can hurt unintentionally, but their quest for harmony makes them a reliable friend on lifes journey.

⭐Lucca Algaselva / Kelpwood (Zebra Shark) - is the brains of the trio, always with his feet on the ground, perhaps too much so. Although sometimes hard-headed, they is a reliable friend who brings practical solutions, keeping the group on an even keel. Behind his reserved nature lies a world of deep thoughts.

⭐Macco Barbafina / Shortfin (Mako Shark) - is the creative soul of the trio, a hyperactive dreamer. His vivid imagination and love of adventure is inspiring, always spotting the unique in the little details that go unnoticed. Although his impulsiveness and occasional lack of focus can lead to unusual situations, in the end it is his empathy that always brings the friends together.

They have this strange coincidence of having repeated letters in their names and faithfully believe that this is a cosmic sign that they were meant to be friends!✨

Originally, the idea for them was born out of the specific artwork I did for Sharktober 2020. It all started with Macco, this little mako shark who loves video games. Over time I ended up creating two friends for them who would be Hanna and Lucca, I changed their design a bit and now everything has expanded to a whole city.

The idea is that it's a story about the abstract dreams and idols that inspire these three children. Macco wants to be a racing driver and is inspired by a famous driver who is a mako shark, Lucca wants to be a writer and is inspired by a high fantasy writer who is a whale shark, while Hanna wants to get involved in music and is inspired by an indie band, already known here.

But it is through life's adventures that they will discover their true virtues, which are closer than they realize. While other characters' parallel stories are happening and a big mystery will connect everyone to a common event.

At some point, if my chaotic life allows, I'll update the post with more news about them! I hope you enjoy it! 🦈✨

I apologize if there are any English errors in this gigantic text sdfjkgsdfg

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Lucifer + Alastor - [ NSFW 3 ]

xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx

A/N: Had this song on repeat since its release and it reminded me of these two so much…

WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON ]

xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx

Sharing is caring, but when it comes to being between the King of Hell himself and his newly established opponent - the all too cocky Radio Demon- you don’t have much say in who gets fair claim of your existence.

Sharing is caring, but only in the ways that matter to the men wrapped around your little finger. Lucifer needs your physical touch; he can’t go one moment without it, and god help you if you’re around other flirtatious sinners -he’ll be all over you for no reason at all. Hand on your hip, lower back, even on your ass if he’s feeling possessive. His height doesn’t matter, not when he can back hug you just fine, plant kisses on your head or temple, and sit you down on his lap without a second thought. Lucifer is a sucker for praising you, every word out of his mouth is sweeter than honey, and the knowing smile on his lips when you get all soft and shy from his gentle admiration swells his already massive sense of pride.

“You’re a sweet little sinner, aren’t you, baby doll?”

“I’m so proud of you, my love.”

“Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing!”

“I’ll do anything you ask of me, sweetheart..”

“Atta girl…keep going…just like that…”

The King of Hell never runs out of patience for you, spending his free time in your presence without a care for his rival's foreboding aura. Though at times they blatantly argue, the drop of your sweet smile into a solemn frown has them both rushing out an apology. However, Lucifer is quicker than Alastor to admit his faults. He makes up for mistakes with sincere gestures, visiting you in the dead of night with the promise of pleasure radiating off him in tangible waves. By the following day, you can’t even begin remembering what you were angry about.

Sharing is caring, but Alastor has a hard time with both concepts. He’s not one for physical affection, preferring acts of service and gift-giving as alternatives. You don’t seem to mind, always at his side when he calls, a pretty little thing on his arm while he struts about hell running conspicuous errands, and a genuinely engaging sinner he doesn’t mind having deep conversations with. You contrast him in all the right ways: expressive but gentle, lethal but only when provoked. Unlike most demons, you hold value to Alastor, drawing out a softer, more honest version of the stag that most will never see. In private, you’re allowed to babble off his ear while he works, cuddle up in his lap when he’s feeling ‘vulnerable,’ and sometimes you’re lucky enough to get a few somewhat kind words from the overlord amid lingering kisses.

“What a pretty little thing you are,”

“I’m tempted to keep you all to myself, ma chere… Would you like that, hm?”

“I know you can’t help being a greedy girl, darling, but I’ll always be better than that pompous excuse for a king.”

“You love to provoke me, don’t you, little one? Prancing around the hotel like you do, smiling at every little thing, and showing off for attention..”

“It’s rather pathetic, but lovely things can’t control what they attract..”

He’s possessive, outright toxic in some instances, but you’re quick to manipulate the stag into an agreeable state with the threat of seeking out Lucifer’s company over his. This tactic occasionally works, but sometimes it enrages Alastor to bloodlust. His semi-polite exterior falters, causing the overlord to be on edge with everyone -especially Lucifer- and the king won’t let a chance to irritate him further slip by.

“Something bothering you, Rudolph?”

Lucifer snickers as Alastor enters the parlor through its shadows, automatically glaring at the sight of you straddling the blonde fallen angel with his hat lazily set on your head, and you giggle at his obvious disdain for the scene. “Oh, don’t look so upset, Al. I just wanted to play with Luci for a bit.. “ you flash him a cheeky grin, purposely shifting on the devil's lap to feel his growing erection and show more skin hidden underneath your fluffy oversized jumper. Lucifer chuckled, ducking his head to give you a quick kiss as the crackle of static resonated around the room, but you were far from scared of Alastor’s fury in the presence of his rival.

Sharing is caring, but later that night, when you snuggled under your bedsheets with Lucifer, lying on his bare chest, only wearing his dress shirt, soundly asleep, and listening to his undead heartbeat, you’re jolted awake by the distinctive coolness of shadows lurking over your skin.

“What made you think I wouldn’t put you in your place, my dear? That I wouldn’t remind you he’s not the only one who can lay claim to your very existence?..”

Alastor’s voice echoes through your head, coaxing you awake as his specters entangle around you. They tug, pull, squeeze, and ravish your small frame with his every word. Your cunt starts to pulse with need, leaking arousal in steady drops as a shadowy tentacle prods your entrance before sheathing itself in your warm walls with one sharp thrust.

“Ahm!” You yelp, eyes shooting open as a satisfied whine leaps from your lips; quiet moans soon follow as the bulk of shadows touches your womb with tender strokes. Two more snake up the borrowed dress shirt, swirling under the white silk with precise menstruations, encircling your fragile body ruthlessly until you’re forced to sit up in hopes of gaining more fleeting touches. “Alastor, you’re being mean…” you groan into the darkness, hips rutting down in timid circles, a reflexive action you try to maintain to avoid waking the man lying under you. Alastor’s low laughter shifts from your mind to the confines of the room, signaling his physical appearance in the space, and you’re tempted to search for him but aren’t given a chance to as the scrape of his sharp claws manifests along your sides. He’s close, so close you can feel him leering behind you, breathing in your ear as if he needed your scent to survive.

You lean backward, humming at the familiar firmness of his chest meeting your back,” Just wanted you to be a little nicer, that’s all…” Your explanation for earlier does nothing to quell Alastor’s jealousy; his hands hovering over your sides clamp down harshly, and his claws shred through Lucifer’s shirt to prick your skin. Your heart thuds wildly as a scream threatens to fall from your chest from the pain he causes, but your cunt clenches with excitement from his aggressive treatment. “Reasoning won’t help you now, darling. It seems you only understand one thing..” he purrs into your ear, red eyes glowing as they trace your flushed form, “A-and what’s that?..” you mumble fearfully, feeling a coil build in your core, but a pang of shame in your chest overrides it as Lucifer begins to stir below you. He’ll awake any second, and though you weren’t afraid of him seeing you in a whorish state, very used to being intimate with him, the unpredictable reaction he’d have to Alastor taking advantage of you right in front of his eyes was still nerve-wracking.

Sharing is caring, and Alastor’s response to your feverish question makes more sense than you care to admit. “Attention, my dear. You’re shamelessly addicted to it,” he drawls, smile widening when you whine helplessly, back arching as his shadows wrap around your breasts before swiping over your pert nipples while your cunt no longer resists forceful strokes of his shadows. Your vision blurs as the sensations blend, erasing mannerable actions from your thoughts the closer to cumming you got, and the riveting shivers vibrating your body were evidence enough. The subtle tremble of your thighs mixed with the combined noise of your soft moans and Alastor’s hushed taunting drew the King of Hell awake with a gentle start. Lucifer ruts his hips upwards on instinct before groaning tiredly, mildly aware of the familiar stickiness your arousal causes on his pale skin but unsure as to why it’s there. “Baby, what’s the matter-“He’s at a loss for words for a long moment, almost panting at the sight above him, confused at first but gradually intrigued as sleep waned from his consciousness. Alastor smirks, lips against your neck as he stares down at the fallen angel, daring him to instigate a fight. “Ah, looks like you awoke your preferred lover, ma chere. How rude…” the deer demon taunts you, clearly unbothered by your disagreements and conflicted writhing. “N-no, that’s not ah- ah- mmm fuck Al, please d-don’t!” A bright blush coats your cheeks, tears brimming your waterline as the demon nips at your bare shoulder before lapping up the blood that trickles from the wound. His gaze never leaves Lucifer’s as his tongue collects the red liquid, humming triumphantly as a prominent red color floods the ladders’ cheeks and eyes. “How fucking dare you..” the blonde hisses, voice thick with an indecipherable emotion, and you whine anxiously as embarrassment rushes your veins. It wasn’t your fault Alastor was taking his anger out on you this way, disregarding his aversion for touch in the hopes of getting back at you both, but it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying the intense situation brewing.

Sharing is caring, and you're afraid neither entity will consider doing so as a heavy beat of silence engulfs the room. The only sound is your rushed breaths, growing heavier with every thrust and twist of Alastor’s shadows in and around your body. You try to break free from the overlord, gazing down at Lucifer pleadingly for a better chance at forgiveness. Unexpectedly, his displeased expression morphs dramatically seeing the desperation in your eyes. He’d never been the type for sadism, let alone encouraging it, but your need for his help stirred a primal desire in his chest that he’d only felt sparks of recently. It was no help to him that Alastor, a demon with no remorse or pity for your plight, was the one indicting pleasure on you. He’d seen the stag agitated, irritated, and maybe even flustered but never lustful. It was new and undeniably attractive. Why waste an opportunity to use it against him?

Lucifer took a slow breath, stamping out his rage in seconds as his eyes shifted from your lidded ones to Alastor’s, “How dare you have fun without me, hm?… that’s a little unfair,” he pouts, stifling a groan as his cock twitches to life. The radio demon scoffs, forgetting his grudge against Lucifer for the mutual benefit of desire, “If you wished for fairness, you shouldn’t have fallen from heaven …” he taunts back.

Sharing is caring, but the instant sting of Alastor’s insult doesn’t anger Lucifer like usual. It eggs on the blonde, prompting him to reach for you, and you welcome the gentle coolness of his fingers trailing up front. Unlike Alastor, his claws do you no harm, never breaking skin even as he cups your jaw firmly. “C’mere, little one. M’ not going to hurt you…” he coos quietly, eyes glowing as brightly as Alastor’s as you leer into his touch like a wounded lamb. “Yes sir…” you whisper compliantly, surprised that Alastor relents his hold just enough to let you follow Lucifer’s lead. He’s relatively calm watching you, admiring how your hair falls like a curtain over your flushed face, skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and the dress shirt slipping off your shoulders but sticking to your skin at every curve you had. There were reasons he wanted you to himself but dealt with sharing you with another, and this sight was one of them. You could be so good to them both, on all fours, cunt creaming from his actions and Lucifer’s words, and your loyalty to them both on a whole show no matter the implications.

Sharing is caring, and to some degree, you believe it’s a possibility for your relationship with a prideful fallen angel and an egotistical demon. Lucifer lay beneath your trembling form, muttering encouraging praises against your lips when he wasn’t connecting them with his own in heated kisses.

“Mhm, good girl…go on, come for him like you do for me.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby doll..”

“Fuck, you like that hm? Want more? Ask him nicely, sweetheart…”

“Cum for us, my love…”

“You’re doing so well….taking us so well. There you go, baby, all of it just like that…”

Alastor loses track of himself within moments of watching you come undone in his shadows for the first time, hungry to feel the warmth of your cunt for himself as puddles of your cum form on Lucifer’s crotch. You don’t fight him when he replaces his specter's task of fucking you, welcoming the length of his cock with a grateful smile and melodic moan of his name. “Alastor!… nghh yess, please r-right there!..” you yelp into Lucifer’s neck, letting him cradle your head as he talks you through the rise of your next high, “You sound so precious like this, baby. Give em’ what he wants.” His tone is strained, leaning towards a moan as he watches your expressions switch between pleasure and pure wonder. Alastor is fixated on the both of you, ears twitching at the top of his head with every satiated moan you let out and sinful word Lucifer says. His hands find purchase on your hips, gripping them harshly as he snaps his roughly, plowing his cock into your cunt with so much pent aggression your legs refuse to stop shaking. “Oh, fuck…” he groans in the air, tearing his gaze away from your arched back and leaking entrance to try and slow the impending peak of his high. Self-control was something Alastor prided himself in, but it was spiraling from his grasp the longer he fucked you.

Was this what the King of Hell had been enjoying with you?

Milking you of every drop of lust in your body?

Filling you with his overrated seed in the hopes of one-upping him?

If so, Alastor could never blame him. You felt divine, after all, and had no complaints about being used for pleasure.

Sharing is caring, but you forget all about it when Alastor yanks you away from Lucifer, a hand tangled in your head so tight you’re sure he might rip into your scalp if he holds you any tighter. Luckily, the overlord refrains from doing so, opting to groan into your ear as he buries his length to the hilt in your fluttering cunt, spilling ropes of warm cum into your abused womb with no remorse. “Don’t waste a single drop, ma chere. See it as a gift for being so well-behaved,” the radio overlay in his voice is gone, giving way to an accent you couldn’t resist mewling at. Lucifer chuckled, eyes fixed on where Alastor and you were connected, smirking at the mess you’d both made on top of him. “Need a taste of that…” he mumbles more to himself, tone hungry, demanding. You’ve yet to catch your breath before Alastor lets out a short laugh, flinging you forward into Lucifer’s chest without much care as to how weak you still are, “Greedy bastard,” he snickers, slowly pulling out of you with a satisfied grin at your attempt to keep him in. “Now, now, dear. I’ll have another turn with you soon. No need to be selfish..”

Sharing is caring, and oh, how wonderful it is when you’re sat in Alastor’s lap, facing away from him, one leg bent over his while the other rests on Lucifer’s shoulder. The King of Hell kneels before you both, inhaling the scent of your cunt, and smiling at the steady stream of cum drizzling past your folds. He’d done this many times before, a being addicted to the taste of women, of you specifically, but you still shied away from his vulgar eagerness. Your coy reactions only worsened when the notion of Alastor’s cum mixed with your own eventually settling on Lucifer’s tongue came to mind. They hated each other after all, and despite getting along most of the time in your presence, you never imagined this to happen, but neither backed down from the ordeal.

“W-wait Luci, you don’t h-have-“ you start to protest quietly, squirming in Alastor’s hold to avoid Lucifer, but your refusals don’t hold any weight to them.

“Mm, but I want to, love…I can’t help it,” the blonde whined as if he’d die without getting the task done, hands cupping your inner thighs tenderly as he flicked his tongue over your slit and swollen clit. You jolted in Alastor’s grip, biting back a whimper as he mumbled into the crook of your shoulder, “It’s impolite to refuse royalty, so let him have his fill …”

Sharing is caring, and you’re sure Lucifer could survive off eating your pussy alone just fine for the rest of his immortal life. He makes a show of it, diving his tongue in and out of your stretched entrance, moving to suck on your clit every so often before putting both actions into tedious repetition. You couldn’t remain coherent as he explored your insides with expert focus, letting his tongue linger in the spongiest and sweetest spots in your cunt just to draw back and generously spit on your clit. He’d learned your body, when to hit nerves, or when to overwhelm them. As of now, every sense you had was heightened, intensifying when Alastor’s eyes studied your facial expressions, your smile growing an inch more expansive when you rushed out a warning to Lucifer.

“Gonna cum m’ gonna cum…!”

The devil perks up, delving two fingers into you, red irises dilating completely as they hit a tender spot in your cunt immediately, curling against it at a languid pace. He met your gaze with a proud smile on his face, tongue lapping at your clit leisurely, begging you to come undone without hesitation. Alastor curses under his breath, agitated by the fact that your moans are turning him on again, and you feel his cock twitch under your weight.

Sharing is caring, and the euphoric bliss of releasing in Lucifer’s mouth felt divine, bringing small tears to your eyes as he buried his face in your mound, moaning at the taste of you drenching his tongue. Alastor grunts as your hips rock to meet Lucifer's pace, hands creeping up to cup your breasts, kneading the plush flesh mindlessly to avoid bucking his hips against your backside for better friction. He couldn't give his rival the triumph of seeing him worked up at the sight of you cumming so reverently under his touch. You felt powerless between them, shaking in Alastor's arms and pleading for Lucifer to join. One look is all it takes for the two to agree, giving into your minuscule wishes and thoroughly enjoying themselves the remainder of the evening.

Sharing is caring, but if you dare to utter a word of what transpired that night in the presence of others, both will deny the implication of tolerating one another. Although, you find yourself being used by both more often, stuffed full of their cum night after night, and keenly aware of the mutual trust growing between them when you finally collapse into sleep by their sides. They're capable of fair behavior with you, but only in private. Away from the eyes of others who’ll never witness how obsessed The Radio Demon & The King of Hell are with you and you alone.

xxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxx

It's just a filler post cause I'm getting burnt out with requests! ❤️ I love your ideas, so I'm trying to write them all in my style but as concisely as possible. It's tiring but fun…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

They may not be able to stand each other but I’ll gladly take them both (not in a fight) ❤️ credits to creator

[theoutcastwrites]

First Time - Il Dottore x Reader

So it's 1 am and I'm extremely sleepy hence why the ending is like... That. My apologies. Inspired by a line from Hozier's "First Time", because I am not myself if I don't assign random Hozier lyrics to my favorite characters

"Zandik."

The name was uttered with contempt, barely contained. He'd had half the mind to keep it unsaid, and he would have were it not for the curiosity that glimmered in your eyes when you asked: "what is your true name?"

That had been weeks ago. Still, he remembered the sweet smile with which you peered at him, the way your voice lilted with each word that slipped past your lips.

"The Fair Lady is Rosalyne, Childe is Ajax. Who are you, Dottore?"

As if a name could determine who he was. He was greater than his titles - more than what people thought of him. Yet the question lingered in his mind that night, and its presence brought about memories of long nights spent by the crackling fire, of miserable musings that never ceased. It should not have mattered; he had long abandoned his wistful soliloquies and all matters that did not concern the inevitable fall of the Old World. By all means, he was above having such worldly concerns. And yet.

Could he be blamed for pondering the idea so obsessively when it was you who proposed it? Wouldn't others be in the same predicament as him: with the syllables ready on the tip of their tongue, fighting to be heard, to be spoken aloud for the first time in so long?

It had proven to be far more difficult than he expected. It tasted foul on his tongue, a monstrous thing, made even more unpleasant by the tone of his voice - self-loathing, bitter. The mere mention of it - the reminder of that name - sickened him and made him wish he could unhear it.

"I'm sorry?"

... And for you to react like that.

He explained, "you once asked about my true name and I am telling you now: my name is Zandik."

And just why was it so quiet so suddenly? Why couldn't you say something, anything at all? He was hardly the anxious type but your silence made him feel tense. You should know that a Harbinger of his ranking wouldn't reveal these things to just anyone. You should know better than to disregard his earnest confession, his-

"Zandik?"

Whatever thoughts he'd had dissipated when he heard his name from your mouth.

"I hope I didn't butcher the pronunciation," you said, your words laced with genuine worry. He didn't know what he expected - perhaps he hadn't expected anything at all. But for you to say it so sweetly, carefully, like it was something precious and nothing less - it made his facade waver.

The lights were far too bright in the lab; Zandik could see all too well the prideful twinkle in your eyes, the happy curve of your lips. Rendered breathless, he watched as you extended your hand to cup his jaw, feeling the stubble there.

"No," Zandik spoke at last, "no, your pronunciation is satisfactory."

"What a relief..."

"Zandik." You repeated. It sounded pleasant when spoken by you - not at all like the mocking sneers he had endured at the Akademiya. Zandik relaxed against your touch. "It suits you. I like it."

"More than Dottore?"

You nodded, "more than all of your titles combined."

The sincerity of your tone surprised him. How you could find it so endearing was beyond him for many a reason. Then again, Zandik figured that it hardly mattered what he thought of his true name; so long as you decided you liked it, Zandik didn't mind hearing it again and again until it was the only word you knew.

[lokis-coconut28]

A Green & Gold Sundae

A/N : Hello! Thank you so much for your patience on this one! Life got wild. Thinking about a Part 2?

I appreciate the love and support you all gave on Sports Bra! I hope you enjoy this one as well :)

Warnings: Food play, Smutttt, 18+ ONLY Minors DNI

Summary: (Y/N x Loki) Insomnia leads to late night dessert with the God of Mischief. WC 2.3k

Masterlist Here

Toss, turn, repeat. Insomnia washed over you like a tidal wave dragging your mind into the sleepless abyss. You focused on the alarm clock atop the desk inquisitively - 12:18am, Sunday morning. With a discontented sigh you emerged out of bed in hopes of quelling your restless night. 

Meandering into the kitchen, you glanced over at the common room. Loki was nestled comfortably in the corner chaise, studying a leather bound tome reservedly in the soft light. Thor clad with headset shouted an incoherent threat at the television to a “NoobMaster69”. You quietly opened the refrigerator, scanning the shelves for a midnight snack, unaware of the eyes that were lingering on your form.

You heard commotion, rolling your eyes as you witnessed Thor throwing his headset on the ground. He tromped your direction, countenance mellowing as he spotted you rummaging in the ice box. 

“Y/N!” Thor beamed. “You cannot sleep? Up for playing a game with me?” 

You shook your head, declining, while grabbing a can of whipped cream from the door. You took the cap off and sprayed it directly into your mouth. 

“Nohhh fank youh.” You slurred, mouth full of froth. 

Thor chortled and snagged the can from you, dispersing a mighty tower of cream into his mouth. You jovially bantered, laughing whilst requesting, “Another!” 

“Of course!” 

You leant back, Thor squirting more cream into your mouth. Loki's eyes widened, subcontiously clenching the book in his lap. His focus sharpened in surveillance of his brother in such close proximity to you. He felt- no he couldn’t. He certainly did not feel jealous. 

“Loki? Want some?” You jocundly inquired from across the space, fracturing Loki from his envious thoughts. 

“Only idiots and fools play these witless games, mortal.” Loki venomously spat at you. He slammed his book shut, abandoning it on the chair, strutting with haste out of range down the hall. 

The joy you had exuded moments prior shriveled inside your heart like a dying flower. Loki had never spoken to you so harshly. 

Thor noticed your discomfort at Loki's insult. He leaned down and whispered, “He is adopted,” into your ear. You stifled a half-chuckle and smacked his large bicep. 

“Be nice!” You scolded lightheartedly, beginning to head toward your own room. 

There was a soft knock on your door, barely audible. You glimpsed at the clock and grumbled. 3:30am. Tony. Stark was notorious for recruiting you to work in the early hours. While you were grateful to be part of this team, briefing documents were the last thing you felt like reading in your insomniatic state. 

Moseying over to the sound, you swung the door open in exasperation, bracing yourself for Tony’s middle of the night assignment. You froze ice cold when you saw Loki before you instead.

“What brings you to my room, Laufeyson?” 

Loki winced internally at the tone of your words. You never called him that. 

“An apology. May I come in?” He said with an air of sincerity that riddled you with regret. 

Silently stepping aside, you observed Loki as he cautiously entered your room. His hands dwelled behind his back, arms tight to his sides. He loomed with the utmost formal, stiff posture. Your interest was piqued at his bravery not only to come to your room, but to also offer an apology. Core tightening at the sudden realization you were alone with Loki in the middle of the night, you listened to him intently as he began to speak. 

“Y/N… I owe you an apology for what I said tonight. How I spoke to you - it was harsh…” he shifted uncomfortably on his heels. “It’s just- it is not proper for royalty where I come from to do - well… fun things… Midgardian things.” Loki confessed in the tenebrosity of your bedroom. “And with Thor there… Well… He would tell The Warriors Three. I would never hear the end of it Y/N. Gossip spreads like wildfire in Asgard...” 

You could tell Loki was being vulnerable, something that did not come first nature to him. 

“...I find it difficult to let go of those customs. I am trying... So - if you would still have it… If the offer still stands…” he continued, revealing the can of whipped cream from behind his back with pleading eyes. 

You raised your eyebrows at him with a playful grin. “Really?” 

Apprehensively, he bowed his head in permission, handing over the canister. 

“Come here.” You giggled, seizing the can. You crawled onto your bed, scooching to one side. You tapped the mattress beside you twice, beckoning the God of Mischief to come join you. 

Following your lead, Loki tried to ignore the flutters in his stomach. Sitting next to you, he was painfully poised. Yet even in the late of night, he looked as collected and composed as he ever did, stature dripping with elegance. 

“Lean against my leg.” You hushedly instructed. 

Loki shimmied down low on the bed, resting his head carefully against your slightly bent knee. He looked straight up at you, seeking guidance. Allowing someone to have control of himself was new. Steadily, he rested his body perpendicular to yours. 

“Tilt your head back.”

You cradled his scalp and gently tugged his hair, encouraging access to his mouth. All traces of awkwardness melted away as he arched slowly into your palm. You admired Loki’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the new angle exposing his alabastrine flesh. Your eyes lingered, watching the heartbeat quicken in his strong neck, deep veins coursing like a sapphire river. You shifted your left leg slightly, arousal starting to stir from forbidden thoughts of your colleague.  

“Good.” You praised, loosening the grip on his obsidian curls. A small smirk formed on your lips. “Open up, please.” 

His breath hitched as he willed the tension in his jaw to release, slightly parting his mouth. He wet his lips with his tongue, allowing access for your dessert. Gently, you pressed the nozzle downward, forcing sweet cream to squirt from the star-shaped tip. Loki flinched, startled from the sound of the pressure that was built up in the can. You smiled reassuringly, sliding your hand down to support the nape of his neck. 

“It’s okay. Relax your body. It’s good right?” You soothed.

“Mmm-mmhmm. Another,” he hissed, mimicking your words to Thor earlier. A familiar burning swept over your stomach at his new inflection, laced with lust and possession.

Loki’s hands fidgeted near his groin, attempting to hide his arousal as you pressed down again. He allowed his eyes to fall shut, appreciating the feeling of you. The way you were cradling him felt so intimate. Your delicate hand holding him sent him to a state of tranquility he hadn’t felt in eternities… 

You made a large swirl in his mouth. Not nearly enough to make him choke, but certainly more than filling it. Loki’s eyes snapped open and glared at you in artificial anger. 

“I’m sorry… I had to do it.” You feigned your most innocent and apologetic look. 

Loki deftly dipped his pointer finger through the peak of cream in his mouth before consuming the rest. He tilted his head toward you, observing your expression. You were at ease with him. Peaceful and serene… Not afraid. 

Loki raised his finger to your mouth. He hoped this was not too forward of him, he hoped not to scare you away. 

Loki’s outstretched arm revealed the erection straining against his pants. His dormant hand began clenching his thigh as you bewitchingly leaned forward and sucked his finger clean of the foam, eyeing his visible arousal. Setting the can down and mindlessly draping your free hand on his abdomen, you felt his diaphragm rise and fall under your fingertips. A blush crept across your face at his hungry eyes taking you in. 

“Satisfied?” You questioned.  

Loki leaned in close to you, gently sitting up in one fluid movement. 

“It was quite good… However…” He tenderly rested his palm on your cheek, demanding eye contact.  “I crave something sweeter.” 

Loki ran seductive circles on your cheekbone, exalting the features of your profile, hesitating only for a moment's time. Forthwith, he captured your lips in a sultry embrace, comfortably fitting them between his own. You hummed in approval as you allowed him access to glide against your tongue. You both gave in to a sacred dance, tongues entwining in a passionate display of affection. Tasting each other, a heated frenzy between yourselves was created. 

Loki pulled away searchingly. He studied your face for any trace of protest. 

Coyly you lifted your lashes up at him, admiring the beauty in his irises. Being this close to him was enchanting. 

“Yes?” You chuckled. 

“I just - I want to be sure that was okay. I do not want to betray your trust, Y/N.” He whispered bashfully.

You pressed an affirming kiss on his lips, running your hand down his side. You spoke as you began to swap spots. 

“Lay on your back, Prince.”

Loki leaned backward as you knelt between his spread thighs. Slight panic was evident on his face as your new positions did not allow for him to hide the bulge in his trousers. 

And Gods. You were kneeling. His swollen cock throbbed at just the sight. 

“Spray it for me now… Your Highness. Spray where you want me to taste.” You mewled sweetly, looking for approval as you slid his sweater up. 

You drew a line with your finger on his exposed skin, bobbing your head once encouraging him to follow. Loki understood the instruction and sprayed a lawless line from his belly button to his sternum. 

You hovered over his sculpted belly, stalking the cream line. You slid your tongue over the messy map he had drawn for you, licking it from the top of his navel up to his chest. You planted a kiss on his jawline. Out of your peripherals there was a flash of green resulting in the disappearance of Loki’s pullover. 

“No cheating!” You playfully tugged his head back, massaging his scalp while he sprayed another line up his collarbone. You followed with a trail of kisses and sucks against his throat. He eased his eyes closed once more, letting his mouth drop open at your heated, sticky laps against the nerves in his neck.

“So- Sorry.. Y/N. No more cheating-”. You cut him off with a suction that was sure to leave a mark.

Cautiously, Loki drew a line down his happy trail. You locked eyes, licking the line up to his belly button whilst simultaneously pulling his bottoms down. He moaned in bliss as you placed a small peck above his pubic hair, continuing to tug the trousers down at a sinfully slow pace. His penis sprung free, dripping with pre-cum. You watched him pulsate as he gracefully drizzled a crown of whipped cream on his tip. His pupils dilated, dark in anticipation. 

You thumbed Loki’s hip bone, drawing an invisible heart shape on his sensitive skin. His stomach flexed involuntarily at the contact. The corners of his mouth curved upward, noting the shape you had chosen. 

“Command me, Loki.” You instructed him, sensually. “What do you want, Prince?” 

“Suck, Pet.” He demanded, firm, yet lovingly. Obediently you leaned down and sucked the mix of whip and precum from his cock. Pleasure surged from his base to his tip as your cheeks hollowed. 

“Another?” You sexily teased.

Loki let out a grunt of ecstasy and relief. He had been jealous of that word only hours ago, but now, how you said it to him, it was utterly intoxicating. 

Tasting his silky knob, your saliva ran down Loki’s length. You pumped your hand, gliding up and down with a rhythm so divine not even magic could mimic the sensation. Loki looked down at you, working sweetly between his legs. You were absolutely delicious. His cock trembled, threatening release as your mouth and grip repetitively jerked his most private anatomy. 

One hand stroking in pattern on his shaft, you allowed the other to gently fondle his testicles. He jolted forward into your mouth, relishing at the contact,  feverishly humping upward.

“Y/N…” Loki panted. You tugged his scrotum, massaging each nut gently. Your eyes flicked up to the Prince’s hand clasping your duvet. You could tell he was dangerously close to the edge. Watching his chest rise and fall at a rapid pace, you hummed at the taste of his precum, taking him further to hit the back of your throat. 

“Gods - Y/N…” he mewled . “Fuck! I’m - I’m going to cum Y/N…” 

You winked at him as you rolled your tongue sweetly over the hole that was begging for relief. Relentlessly, you pumped and sucked Loki off, taking delight in his sugary taste. His body began to quiver, commencing his inevitable orgasm. 

Loki’s hips lifted off the mattress, eyes squeezing shut tightly as his body bucked and vibrated. The intensity of pleasure washing over him as he expelled his seed into your mouth caused him to exhale a libertine moan. You supported his raised back with your hand, rubbing in encouragement as he let go, messily suctioning along with every shake and spurt of release. Tears of euphoria pooled in his eyes as he allowed you every last drop of his ejaculate. Once you were sure his release was complete, you swallowed Loki’s load. Sliding up next to him on the bed, you gently curled to his side, listening to his respiration. 

“How does Midgardian dessert compare to Asgard’s?” You perked your eyebrow at him. 

“Well, I have only had one Midgardian dessert.” He breathlessly purred against your ear. “And I think it may have caused me to develop a sweet-tooth.”

A long morning of dessert education was paved before you both, with Loki accepting your offer of a cherry on top, next.  This was your favorite Sundae.

Thinking about a part 2 to this...

[icallhimjoey]

okay so what if for once joe was the drama queen cos he’s Big Mad over some stuff…how would that play out

this guy's a whole idiot, im not sure i like him all that much... Wordcount: 2.3K

---

I Prefer The Moon Anyway

“I’m sorry...”

If someone asked you without Joe in the room, you’d tell them Joe was being an unreasonable little bitch boy.

“I said I’m sorry.”

But Joe is right there, ignoring you, and you’re apologising just to apologise. You know he wants to hear it, so you’re giving him the words, even if they’re empty.

“I heard you.” Joe’s remark is cold. He can tell you don’t mean it. That you are just avoiding a fight. He doesn’t blame you, he wants a fight even less than you, but you’re annoying him in a way he doesn’t have the words for.

If someone was to ask him without you in the room, he’d tell them this is the exact point of a relationship at which he’d usually turn into stone. This is where he grows numb. Cares less. Starts to protect himself in silence and prepares for the inevitable break up that’s coming.

The beginning of the end.

“But what do you want me to do?” you ask, sounding a little more desperate and helpless than you want, but you can’t help it. Joe’s asking something ridiculously unreasonable. Something you can’t give him. Don’t want to give him. It doesn’t help that you think he’s actually being a dramatic baby who feels like he’s not gotten enough attention. A coddled man who wants the whole world to bend to his needs.

Joe just shrugs. Knows exactly what he wants you to do.

And to be fair, the world has bent to his needs for ages, so who is to blame him for expecting you to do the same?

Joe’s pouting.

He looks like a child who’s overdoing a sad face to get a little empathy from his classmates. Like the kids all across the playground need to see that he’s hurt. Like he needs to guilt-trip them into giving him the toy that he allegedly saw first so he stops crying and they can all be friends again.

You fucking hate it.

“Can you hear yourself, though?” you try for some logic. For some critical thinking skills. Does he see, in the grand scheme of things, how utterly ridiculous he’s being?

Joe shrugs again, but this time it’s conspicuously uninvolved. Like he doesn’t give a single shit about how unreasonable he’s being. He’s gone from acting like you’re burning down the whole world to suddenly acting like he’d rather live on the moon anyway. Burn it, bitch. Whatever. He couldn’t care less.  

He won’t reach out to touch you tonight. He’s going to break your one rule if you keep this up. All because of schedules that never seem to coordinate – something that’s neither his fault or yours.

“I sure can. Can you?” Joe bites back, wants to hear a sincere apology from you. He wants to hear in your voice that he’s right and that he’s not selfish for wanting what he wants. For feeling the way he feels. Not his fault he loves you.

That’s what he’ll bring it back to – always.

He just loves you a lot.

How can you hate him for that, Big Wet Brown Sad Eyes™? Hmm?

Which... it’s so unfair.

And selfish.

He wants you to drop everything at a moment’s notice because he needs you right now. Doesn’t give a shit about what you need.

It’s fucking selfish, is what it is.

And the problem is that Joe’s selfishness is exactly what’s put you where you are now, in his living room, in a weird fight that you would both rather not be a part of.

“Please repeat what you’re asking of me.” You narrow your eyes at him as you look over your shoulder, convinced that he knows he’s wrong and that he should be the one apologising to you.

“Is it too much to ask of my girlfriend to spend time with me?” 

You sigh. You’re so frustrated. That’s not what he’s asking of you - that’s what he’s dressing it up as, which is unfair. What Joe’s asking is for you to drop your work at a moment’s notice because he’s suddenly found an evening off in his schedule and he decided he wants to spend it with you. But he hasn’t actually checked to see if you have the time. Just assumed that you did.

A risky assumption to make.

Because you don’t.

“You know I barely get any time to myself, I don’t know when I’ll have a night off next... could be weeks.” Joe places both hands on your shoulders to give you a little squeeze there. Massages the muscles in places he knows are tight just from the look of you. Gets his mouth close to your ear and lowly says, “Come on, baby. It’s just one night.”

You need to finish work.

There’s a deadline tomorrow you need to make, no questions asked.

Your evening plans surround you and your laptop and a wifi connection, and you were hoping you’d maybe get to sit in the same room as Joe as he would do some work of his own. Some prep for next day’s scenes. Some reading, some rehearsing.

Not this.

Not Joe trying to coax you into a bad performance review just because he felt bored that one night he suddenly found himself with a hole in his agenda.

“I’m here,” you say dryly, but you know that’s not what he means. “You can spend time with me whilst I finish all of this up.”

Joe communicates it with a look. A drop of his face and shoulders, letting you go and stepping away. Eyes rolling because, that’s not fair. He wants to take you out. Go some place nice. Talk and laugh and spend some actual time with you. See if some of his other current colleagues want to join, so he can introduce you. 

And it’s awful because that’s what you want too. But you feel like you’ve wanted that a million times, and every time you’ve tried to plan something, Joe’s been busy. Always so busy. Table reads, night shoots, long hours, long commutes, a party here, an event there. And it’s always, “Babe, it’s for work, I can’t just cancel.” 

Yet, that’s exactly what he’s asking of you now. 

“I don’t know why you assume that your time is more valuable than mine.” 

“I don’t think that at all! When have I ever said that?”

It’s how he’s acting. It says enough.

“Listen to what you’re saying; you’ve got a bit of free time. You do. You. Not me though. Not tonight. Does that sound familiar? At all?”

The tables have turned, just this once. He can just fucking deal with it like you have all those times before.

“Don’t. You know that’s not–”

“So your job is more important than mine?”

It pays more, Joe thinks immediately, but refrains from speaking the words into the room. Knows that won’t help, but it’s definitely telling how quick the comeback came to him.

“Hmm? Your time more important than mine?” You push.

Joe needs to realise that, if that’s actually how he feels, how outrageous the thought is. Just by your face, he needs to feel how those thoughts need reevaluating.

“You’re putting words in my mouth.”

You’re not. You’re just reading his body-language.

“Your priority is you. You have a free minute and so I’m supposed to just work my way around your schedule and– mind you, you didn’t even know about this until this afternoon! This deadline at work has been there for months!”

You should’ve stayed at the office.

Finished up there.

Joe is pacing now. Walking around his own living room with flared nostrils, taking in your words until you leave enough room for him to say anything.

Which, when he finally gets a chance, he drops an insane bombshell.

“Well, if you hadn’t procrastinated everything until the night before, maybe we wouldn’t be where we are right now.”

Oh, what the fuck? 

Did it take too long for you to set the world alight? Did Joe think it necessary to douse it in petrol and hold a lit match between two fingers a little too loosely? One small move from you could be used as an excuse to drop it, and full blame could be placed with you.

Clever.

But so are you.

You don’t make a move.

Not a single fucking muscle.

You just stare at him over your laptop screen.

Frozen in place.

And Joe stares right back.

It’s like a fucking duel.

You remember a time where you were in Joe’s shoes. The ones he’s wearing right now. The difference being that, back then, there were actual plans made that you’d been looking forward to, and then two days before, Joe complained about having to cancel on seeing family. He added that it’d be the third time he had to dip out on something, and how that made him feel like an awful person, but his job was just too demanding right now. People wanted him everywhere, all of the time, and whilst he typed away at his phone to apologise to his mum, he didn’t see how your face fell too, because you knew if he was telling family members he couldn’t make it to something, he was also going to have to cancel on you.

Again.

You’d cried, then. Only silently. Wiped a tear away quickly and masked a sniff as a deep breath, because you didn’t want him to feel worse.

Trust Joe to feel guilty for having to cancel on family for the third time and forget about the person in the room with him.

You then wondered if he ever kept count with you.

“You okay?” he had asked when you’d fallen silent, and you’d smiled and nodded. “Yea, just tired.” which wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the full truth that Joe accepted it as.

Idiot.

It was fine. It wasn’t his fault.

You’d taken your frustration out on him later that night, when he left your toothpaste uncapped on the side, and you’d grumbled until the lights in the bedroom got turned off, and Joe reached out to you under the covers.

The one rule.

Even if you were upset, or angry, or wanted to fully murder each other, you had to at least still touch each other in bed. To let the other know that, yea I’d rather fucking shout at you until I go hoarse right now, but I still love you.

It could be a big toe touching a shin, or an elbow digging into a bicep – a touch was a touch. An I love you hidden in the dark.

And you had accepted it easily then.

Yea, it was annoying that Joe’s work dictated so much of what your relationship could even be, but it wasn’t his fault, so there was no use blaming him for it.

That was then.

You don’t know when you’d grown past the point of simply accepting all the bullshit. When you decided to maybe not brush things off and be the cool girlfriend who was there for her boyfriend wherever and whenever, especially in all the moments he wouldn’t have been there for you had the tables been reversed.

Like right fucking now.

You are still staring at Joe across the room when you see how suddenly, he starts to blink his eyes rapidly. See how suddenly, his jaw starts working. You know he’s biting back tears and, no – you won’t fucking have that. This motherfucker can cry on command and you don’t doubt for a single second he’d use that to get his own way.

“Don’t fucking guilt-trip me into losing my job.”

Joe’s immediately offended.

He drops the match.

“Well, I’m sorry for being disappointed.”

World on fire.

“Do you want me to leave?” you spit out, louder than you initially thought you’d make your voice go.

“No, no,” Joe immediately says, but it sounds patronising, even though he’s on the verge of tears. Like he actually means yes, please leave, because what good are you going to be to him having to sit at his kitchen table and do work all night.

“Stay. Make your deadline.”

You ignore the sarcastic bite and take a second to sit back in your chair and assess what needs doing. How long it’ll take you all. What time you’ll likely be finished. You conclude that, if Joe’s gonna be moping around, giving big sighs from across the room, that it will likely take twice as long.

You should leave.

“No, I should go. Get this done and then see you after.”

It’s the last thing Joe expected. For you to go on your own merit. Because of your work that needs doing, and not because you’ve gotten into a huge fight. You’re not storming off and screaming how you never want to see him again. You have work to do and want to see him after you’ve finished it.

It’s stupid how fast everything inside of him flips.

He doesn’t actually want you to leave.

He wants you to shut your laptop and sigh lovingly and mutter, “How could I ever resist you?” through a smile before you kiss him silly and follow him out into the night.

But instead you shut your laptop and bend to pick up your bag from the floor to stick it into and, no, that’s not what he wants.

“No, wait... wait. I’m sorry.” he says he before he even realises what he’s doing. Unsure if he really means it. He just doesn’t want you to get up and leave. If anything, he’d like to talk more and get you to eventually prioritise him over everything else. “Stay. We can... you can finish work and then we could do something after.”

You drop your head all the way back and take a moment to let your eyes dart to all corners of his ceiling.

What if you don’t finish this until after 11? After midnight? Is he just going to watch you work from the sofa and ask you how much longer every three minutes because he thinks you’re taking too long?

You should leave.

“I should go. I’m probably better off at the office, actually. It’s where I’ll get it done faster, I think.” You say all of it kindly. Stick your laptop into your bag calmly, no jerky annoyance in your limbs. But you don’t make eye-contact so he can’t use the Big Browns on you, and instead of trying to stomp on the flames to make the fire go out, he wafts a fresh gust of wind right over them, making them climb much higher.

“All right, fuck off then. See if I give a shit.”

If someone asked you without Joe in the room, you’d tell them Joe needed a moment to calm down and you’d talk to him in the morning after you’d made this deadline.

You didn’t start the fire.

Joe did.

And he’d figure that out eventually.

If someone was to ask Joe without you in the room, he’d tell them fuck her, apparently she doesn’t give a shit about him, and actually, that’s totally not a problem at all, because he prefers the moon anyway.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevitalifestyle, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959

@hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

@pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @prettiestboyreid, @readergf, @royale1803

@skulliecadaver-blog, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[missmimii]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | 𝐌－𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | In which Matt had gotten lost in a game rather then the deprivation of touch he’d felt the whole night.

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. 18+, Sub!Matt, fem!reader/dom!reader, smut, language, dirty talk, light degradation, pet names, teasing, dom/sub!relationship, fem!receiving oral, Matt the munch!

♡︎－ℳ𝒾𝓂𝒾’𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓈 | Mimi finally posts! Surgery + School has been kicking my ass, so I sincerely apologize for my absence. But I’m back! And ready to get back to my usual schedule.

Butterflies swarmed the girl’s gut as a kitten like peck was placed right atop her belly button, making her squirm a little as two blue hooded eyes peeked up at her. “What’s this?” Matt murmured softly, though his tone remained gruff with a hint of exhaustion lacing the undertone. “Hm?” She propped up her upper half with both elbows, head tilting to the side as she watched as her boyfriend’s thumb run over the slight, faded purple scar above her bellybutton. “Does it hurt?” Her head shook slightly, a subtle smile tainting her bitten lips as the adoring boy hummed, placing yet another kiss atop the mark. “I used to have a piercing there, it left a scar.”

Matt cooed ever so slightly, and inwardly, so did she. He looked so perfect, and at peace. His brunette hair was untamed and just barely overgrown, small pieces lying around his eyebrows and forehead. Blue eyes accompanied by faint bags underneath, a picturesque proof of just how long he’d been up. And his lips, slick with his saliva as he ran his tongue along the soft skin, the rough stubble of his jaw pressing into her abdomen as he allowed his head to rest. “Tired, baby?”

Matt’s eyes batted as a soft sigh escaped his lips as her hand cupped his jaw delicately, the pad of her thumb guiding it’s way under his one eye. “No.” The boy mumbled, peeking his eyes open to look up at his girlfriend. “wanna’ spend time with you.” His eyes were groggy, slow blinks sent her way as he peered up at her with such intensity. Warmth swirled in her core at the innocence written all over her face, knowing it was all a facade. “Spend time with me? baby you’ve had all night to be with me.” He whined at the tone of her voice, lowering his gaze as he pressed his face into her tummy, inhaling.

Vanilla and remains of her body lotion that had a reminiscent hint of shea engulfed his nose as he resisted the need to nip at her lustrous skin, the smell so intoxicating as he felt himself ache for the girl. “M’sorry. Nate wanted to play a game with me before he went to bed,” she hummed in understanding, already knowing the circumstances. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby.” The girl knew he felt guilty the second his PC had shut off, the room going dark with the subtle hue of a candle as he crawled onto the bed and lying himself between her parted thighs.

It started off innocent, just like it always did before he got worked up. ‘You looked so pretty today’ he’d whisper, the praise muffled as he pressed his lips to the skin of her navel. ‘missed you so much’ his hands would glide up her chest, innocently toying with the frilly hem of her bra. ‘Wanted to touch you so bad’ and that’s when she’d know, realization coming over her just as he unintentionally would rut his hips against the bedsheets.

The girl let out a huff of amusement as she felt the boy’s teeth graze her tummy, just before his eyes slid up to hers, a mischievous glint behind the blue surface. “Yes?” Yet again, he whines while she guided his chin up with her palm. “Please?” Oh~, She cooed, watching as Matt’s lips parted oh so sweetly, her thumb trailing across his bottom lip that had pushed out into a pout. “You’ve had all night.” I know, he whimpered out. “Speak up.” The girl murmured, tilting her head at him in disapproval. “I know.” The triplet repeated breathily, his voice now verging on a groan.

What was he playing at? The girl couldn’t help but feel her lips tug at the corner, watching as Matt slowly lowered his lips to her navel, tongue gliding out and licking a stripe along the surface. “What’re you doing, hm?” She forced her voice to stay strong, despite the shaky undertone it held as he offered an innocent shrug, eyes hooded with desire as he blinked up at her while kissing down her abdomen. Matt got lost in his own little world, panting as his teeth suddenly came in contact with her faded pink bloomer shorts, wanting nothing more then to tug them down.

He needed it, his body pleading for it as he ever so desperately sought his release by rocking his hips into the mattress. “Ah, ah－” a whimper emitted his lips as he drew his gaze upward, hearing his girlfriend’s tut as he stilled. “Where’s your manners?” He whined, sensing her disappointment in his actions. He was being bad. Sorry, he murmured with a whimper lacing his tone. ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry－’ he repeated, rubbing his stubbly cheek agaisnt her soft stomach as a silent apology.

The feeling of his unshaven scruffy jaw tickling her stomach has her thighs twitching, her teeth biting on her lip to keep her composure as she imagines the feeling of his rough cheeks in between her thighs. “Shhh’,” Matt leans into her touch, practically moaning as she threaded a hand through his tousled hair. “Jus’－ please.” It hurt. His loose sweatpants now felt rather snug around his hips, and his skin suddenly grew hot without her hands touchingly trailing across his body.

“Stop whining,” she muttered, and Matt shrunk under her domineering gaze. A darkness had settled behind the surface of her eyes, pupils having grown in size as she follows his every move. “if you want something, ask for it. No more whining.” Sniffling, he felt a pearl of pre-cum drip from the tip of his aching cock, wanting nothing more than to tug off the uncomfortable sweats. “Wan’ you to touch me.” Matt said meekly, looking at the girl with a longing look of desperation.

An hum of understanding left her lips as she brushed a few hairs away from his eyes. “You want me to touch you, baby?” Matt opened his mouth, prepared to let out a soft whine before he was shut down by her hardened glare. “Mommy.” He finally whimpered out, tears sticking to his lower lash line. She couldn’t help but coo at the sight of her boy so desperate. So whiny and pathetic, at the hands of his own actions. “Hm? You want mommy, doll?” Matt’s blinks were long and thick, looking almost as if he were in a trance while gazing at the dominant girl.

“Not wan’, need.” And that was all it took. The girl saw how Matt’s hands softly trembled, seemingly overwhelmed as he huffed out small breaths. “Here, puts those here, hm?” Two of her hands guided his large ones to the hem of her shorts, the boy immediately letting out an incoherent murmur of relief as he began to tug them down her thighs. “Ah, ah－ patience.” She scolded lightly, the bed frame creaking every so slightly has he rutted his hips into the plush mattress.

The shorts toppled off the edge of the bed in a bunch, within seconds Matt was already slipping two fingers on each side of her underwear to slip them down her hips. “－thas’ it- yes, please－” The boy whined small murmurs to himself, his face looking pained as he ran his tongue across his teeth. “Such a good boy.” She praised, cooing. His eyes were hooded, a thick swallow following as he peered up at her. “Mhm.” Matt felt his mouth practically water as her panties finally joined her shirts on the floor, his eyes gleaming as they took in the sight of her glistening, pretty pussy.

His morals were drowned in desperation, the concept of asking －let alone begging, completely dismissed as he lowered his lips. “Matt,” a hand buried itself in the boy’s hair, tugging at the soft strands as she scolded his behaviour. “where’s your manners?” The triplet moaned softly, a hand squeezing her thigh as a silent apology. It was almost amusing. She couldn’t stay mad at him when he was in such a state, drool pooling at his lips as he hungrily took in her bare body. “have I been doing a bad job a teaching you how to be a good boy?” A whine drawled from his lips, frowning as he shook his head vigorously.

It wasn’t his fault, he thought to himself. She was so warm, and smelled so sweet. Her pink hole was dripping, wetting her folds as cum and arousal slid down her cunt. How could he not want to devour her? “Take your time,” her hand fisted his hair, tipping his head down as he let out a gentle breath of relief. “don’t always get to do this do you, hm?” Matt didn’t respond, instead capturing her lower lips with his hot mouth. “Fuck.”

Her jaw went slack as the feeling of his pulsing hot tongue ran up her core, nudging her hole as his breath fanned against her clit. Matt’s hand held her hips in a painful grip as they attempted to rise off the bed, pinning her lower half down with every ounce of strength he had. “－oh fuck, Matt－shit!,” her eyes rolled back as he nipped at her clit, a moan mixed with a pained hiss escaping her parted lips as his rough hands pushed her hips into the bed with force.

He hungrily lapped at her cunt with soft pants and moans, dazed with a pussy-drunk expression gracing his soft features as the girl’s body thrummed. The nerves in her core would spike every time the ridge of his nose nudged against her clit, the stubble scattered across his jaw tickling her inner thighs as he pushes his face deeper into her parted thighs. It’d been weeks, Matt thought as a strings of moans left his girl’s lips.

Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as he panted against her sopping pussy, incoherent babbles leaving his flushed lips as he rutted his hips into the mattress pathetically. “Awh’, baby.” His eyes drooped as a hand tightened around a fistful of his brown locks, tilting his head up to meet the domineering girl’s gaze. “hard to focus on making mommy feel good, and you at the same time?” Spit dribbled from his lips, making her thighs twitch as the string would land directly atop her aching heat.

A small bob of his head was all it took for the girl’s harsh domineer to shatter, eyes softening as she ran the hand down the side of his head. “I’ll help you after you’re done, hm?” The girl offered, tipping her head to the side as she watched his eyes spark with lust. Please, he whined, making the girl chuckle. “Then we gotta’ stop that－don’t we?” She gritted out, eyes hardening as Matt chose just then to rut his hips into the bed.

The same hand that had been resting on his jaw slid down until it was weaved around his neck, making a moan bubble from Matt’s lips as he took then to lick a stripe up her pussy. Her thighs squeezed around his head at the abrupt motion, a moan tearing from her lips as her head craned back. “Fuck－ that’s it－that’sss a g’boy.” It wasn’t often that she allowed Matt to go down on her, but when she did, the girl always wondered why she didn’t let him do it more. It always felt so fucking good, different than how her past partners would make her feel.

She narrowed down to it being because Matt always wanted to do it. It was almost never her who initiated oral－unless it was her going down on him. He pleaded, and begged, cried out just to have a little taste of her until she’d give in. Because when it came down to it, he needed it more than she wanted it.

Matt’s eyelids were heavy, batting with lust as he peered up at her while swivelling his tongue past her lips, savouring the sweet taste of her on his tongue. The muscles of her cunt would tense and tighten around his tongue every time he slid the tip past the divot of her hole, making her thighs twitch. “Matt,” she grunted, eyes clamped shut as she attempted to keep her strong exterior. “Hm?” Fuck. Her jaw fell down as nipped at her clit, a slurping sound filling the room as he molded his raw lips against the sensitive bud.

A euphoric feeling rolled down her spine, as if a pleasurable chill shook her body as she moaned out. “Fuck－ fuck－oh my god－” Something so deep inside of her shattered, a mix of Matt’s breath feathering against her core, the gruff itch of his stubbly cheeks scratching the inside of her thighs, and his hot mouth feasting away at her heat. All of it. “Baby－” Matt let out a small grunt, the sound verging on a subtle moan as her thighs shook aside his head. “God.” Submission.

A warmth enveloped the triplet’s entire body, a cloudy haze surrounding his skin, body, and soul as he felt every worry and doubt soar away from his aura. It was if the switch in his mind that made him feel so human, had just disappeared. Evaporated. Dissociation but in the best way possible, because he had her. “－Matt? －Matt, baby.” The girl’s hoarse voice was muffled to Matt’s ears as he babbled incoherently, eyes fluttering as he felt a gentle hand cup his cheek.

She felt her heart pick up a beat as she caught sight of his eyes, the boy’s pupils bigger than ever as he gazed at her lustfully. He was on a high, and he didn’t know if he wanted to ever come down from it. “I’m here－shhh ..” Matt crawled atop her warm embrace, burying his face into the crook of her neck with a shaky whimper. He felt .. unreal. So amazingly euphoric. “That’s it, that’s a good boy.” Fuck.

The boy’s whimpers slowed into small pants as she ran her pointed nails down his skull, chills erupting down his arms as a shake coursed through his bones. Huh .. the girl let out a small sound, making Matt lift his head from her neck. “Matt?” the boy visibly swallowed, blinking softly as an attempt at easing the trouble he was about to endure. “－did you already come?” Yep, he was royally fucked.

She bit down on her lip and squeezed her thighs around his hips as he just offered a whine, pushing his face into his chest. “M’sorry,” Matt whimpered softly, sniffling. “needed it－felt so good－I’m sorry.” He felt scolded as she hummed. “We’re gonna have to fix that entitlement then, hm?” Matt stilled, lifting his head from her shoulder with a shaky gasp eliciting his bitten lips.

“Get on your knees.”

୨ৎ－ @fratbrochrisgf @jetaimevous @sturnstvs @sturniolosarethebest @stonermattsgf @imwetforyourmom @st7rnioioss @endereies @pkfferoo @mqttittude @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @cherib3lla

[hanchette]

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( wind breaker characters )

a/n: i want suzuri to cook for me

consist of : fluff, gender neutral reader, established relationship — soft moments

𝐒𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐇𝐄𝐈, you're seated at the back of suzuri's workplace, one that you've called your own with how much you frequent here to visit your boyfriend. he's just as dedicated to his job as you've known him since.

known to never half-assing anything when he can do his best to do it.

and that's why you're here now, suzuri had done his best cooking a meal, one that is wrapped up in a container that he has bought for the two of you—one that he had prepared meticulously with despite his rather clumsy fingers.

"ow." he reacted, although his tone was too flat for you to discern whether he really felt that anyway. nevertheless, you murmured an apology. "sorry."

suzuri kept quiet, allowing you to map the little wounds littered all over his hands as you bandage them with the little ones that possess cute prints.

"i am always worrying you, aren't i?" suzuri breathes out, eyes trained on your hand as you help him patch up.

"you do." you admit, ever since you've met him, ever so self less and kind—so much that he forgets about himself until tsubaki and nakamura found him where he change, albeit slowly.

suzuri breathes through his nose, as soon as you placed the final bandage on his finger, suzuri allows his body to slump forward, his forehead pressing on your hand like he is bowing towards you.

"i promise to do better so you won't then." he mouths against the back of our hand, warm breath fanning your skin as you look down at the man whom dedicated his life towards you.

"how so?" you asked, eyes crinkling at the sides as you look at him—trailing the way his man bun looks good on him.

and his words came in sincerely, "i will practice hard to cook you a perfect meal and try to take care of myself better.. and yet.." he pauses, sucking in a breath, "and yet, at the same time, i don't want to."

your mouth parts, about to ask until he continues, "because I'll miss you patching me up like this."

you shake your head, finding his words silly. feeling how his lithe fingers, wider than your own but the roughness like holding a jagged rock tells about how much his life has been. searching for a place he can safely call home. and though the guys were his family, you were a semblance of what home is.

"shuhei," you call his name, lovingly, tenderly, and suzuri lifts his head, "i will always be with you, don't worry, i will patch you up whenever you need to, take care of you, and continue to love you."

with a smile, suzuri allow a breath of defeat, of course, you'll always be with him. he takes a hold of your hand, kissing the end of your ring finger, a smile etched on his lips.

"okay." was what he could only say.

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐀, "what are you?" now, in this same moment, takiishi holds your face in both hands, squishing your cheeks together, owlish eyes staring you down.

"y/n." you offer.

you're seated on his lap, as he had pulled you in when you were walking pass him, takiishi stayed silent, perhaps he did not accepted your answer, merely, staring you down with an intriguing look in his gaze.

he couldn't understand, how his heart would always ache when you're around, how his eyes would always be glued to your every move or how when you're not around, he would crave your presence besides him. and though it is a feeling that always leave him feeling bad about everything, the constant pinning needles that kinks his cold heart or the gnawing in his bones, takiishi would never forsaken this feeling.

endo had told him one time—that takiishi finds you intriguing.

takiishi continues to stare, remembering the moment he had sent endo on an errand to check on you, eager ear listening attentively to any updates on your situation.

you make him feel worse, but at the same time good.

"no." he finally answers, "you, what are you." he repeats his question.

just earlier, you were nothing but a babbling mess towards him, his fist propping his head up as he looks at the view. you're sitting on a terrace of an abandoned house that's situated at roof, a place he found—more like endo did.

topics and topics spewing from your lips until you find yourself laughing and giggling at your own story. which prompted to takiishi to shift his attention to you. bored, dull look placed on you as his free hand brushes your cheek gently. and now, you find yourself in this situation.

and now you're stuck looking at him, you couldn't place a word in, what is he asking of you? what he wants of needs to hear? ahh.. but you know him well enough now, enough to stay by his side.

"your s/o." you answer, watching as his dull gaze only seemingly soften, the stiff look in his eyes relaxing ever so slightly that it has your mind going blank, focus on the very little details that makes takiishi.. him.

you don't understand, somehow, why and how he feels so foreign right now. that nonchalant look still present but he's too- he's not the usual. it's weird, but at the same time, endearing.

"right." he nod once, his free hand going back, thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone.

you're not sure if it was the right answer, but it's enough, it seems, when his eyes stray from your to look at the view, not dull, but softer now.

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔, "hehe, i am so happy you came to me for help." he smiles, stupidly pretty that your heart couldn't help but swoon. he's so beautiful.

"how could i not? you are the right person to come to." you tilt your head, tsubaki giggles in response, dragging the chair in front of you as you straighten in your seat, watching his fingers take a napkin from the stand to wipe your face.

"that's why i am happy."

tsubaki then preps your face, from the soft bristles that glides along your face to the little sponges that press against your skin. "you're so pretty, y/n-chan." he compliments you, watching the color from the brush dust your eyelids.

"thank you.." you croaked out, honestly, you still can't believe you managed to date someone like tsubaki—someone so kind, sweet, and tantalizingly soft when it comes to the matters of the heart. "but you're more pretty than me tsubaki-chan."

you can hear small giggles from his lips, maybe you were making a weird expression? ahhh whatever, at least you made him laugh.

"really now?" his eyes crinkle in delight, "that's odd, why do i find you the most beautiful then?" he pressed a sweet peck on the tip of your nose.

perhaps you would need make up anymore, tsubaki muses, watching the way your eyes go wide and feel the warmness creeping in your face with his hand. "hm? y/n-chan is feeling shy in me now?" he teases, pinching your cheek.

"i suppose you won't need a blush now, am i right? then, the only thing that's missing is your lipstick."

before you could reply, tsubaki shows you his collection of lipsticks, from gloss, matte to tints with various colours, allowing you to choose whatever you want.

until you settle on one that you like.

tsubaki giggles, head tilting slightly, and his long hair following the gesture in a flawless motion.

"close your eyes and pucker your lips." he instructs you, you raised a brow, why would you need to close your eyes if he's applying it to your lips?

and it seems like your face is an open book, your beloved immediately responding, "c'mon, it's a surprise."

and so you did.

your senses heightening with the loss of your eye sight, hearing the cap of the lipstick open and waiting for it to be pressed on your lips.

what you thought would be cold and hard was instead, warm and soft.

familiar that it has you closing your eyes shut, thinking that it is merely an imagination you are feeling, until you feel tsubaki's hand wrap around the side of your neck, his thumb angling your head.

and you feel the pressure deepen.

it wasn't until soon that you feel him parting, your lips chasing what was on them, eyes fluttering open to look at tsubaki—his usual meticulously put on lipstick smudged, and the color is similar to the one you just picked earlier.

"ahh, i messed up on putting it on you, maybe we should try again?"

𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎, he closes his eyes, feeling the way your fingers rake through his hair, these are one of the beautiful moments in his life—and though yamato endo lives for the thrill and the chase he use to do, he also lives here in this moment, in your arms. the two of you usually sleeping in this particular time of the day.

"hey, let's do something fun." he hums, thoughts pushing each other like a train without a brake.

"define fun."

"maybe we should invite takiishi." endo hums, opening one eye to see you looking at him, sporting a scrunched face at the call of his friend's name. "no way." watching you flat out disagree made endo pout, for someone infamous for his fighting skills and terrifying actions, he acts like a kicked puppy towards you in the span of your relationship with him.

"takiishi and fun is fun, ya know?" endo offers, trying to change your mind as he shifts in place from your arms to lay his chin on your chest, eyes still trained on you with intent.

you pursed your lips, squinting at your boyfriend who merely chuckles at the sight of your expression, though takiishi is a good companion—in a way, you don't like how endo always sports an injury after coaxing him for something.

"kidding." endo jokes, kissing your collarbone before nipping at the skin below it, "a' know ya' don't like that, hehe."

his eyes are crescent in shape as he grins at you from below, sneaky and naughty fingers trailing from your side to under your shirt. "endo."

"yeah?"

"stop that."

your words will always be his command, endo sighs, taking off his hand from you only to lift himself up so he can see you face to face. "you're no fun." he murmurs, lowering himself to plant kisses on your lips.

and though no matter how calloused his hands are, how dry his lips is, and how rough he is. endo is gentle.

gentle with the way he never gives you too much of his lips, hovering, small little pecks to keep you chasing but never waiting. "but a' like ya'." he mouths through your lips, hand coming to guide your nape.

"endo.."

and endo, he's a relentless. "ya want me to stop?" his words are soft, never a whisper at that point, it wasn't to ask a question, but asking for your permission.

you nod, eyes fluttering as you watch him grin at you. "kay.." he agrees, pressing his forehead against yours.

there are moment that you just can't believe, how soft he could be. he's danger all around, sharp along the edges and one wrong move, you'll have to lay there bleeding and crying. but that never happens, with endo, you feel safe, you feel stupidly safe.

and like a drug instilled in your system, your fingers, smaller than his—softer than what his could ever be, trace the inks that line his skin, the way the drawings seem to come to life at every twitch of his muscle amazes your eyes, and yet, you favorite would be the infinity on his neck.

"stay like this for a few." endo breathes, closing his eyes and plopping his heavy body on yours like a heavy blanket.

"i thought you wanted fun?" you question, lips tilting as you watch him.

"later." he replies.

he only says that, because he wants to feel more of your touch, soothing the ache in his soul and guiding him to a paradise he calls you. "for now, i want this." he muffled out through the soft pillows.

[wolvietxt]

★ argument comfort w/ bucky.

a/n : i’m probably gonna start formatting my shorter fics like this now! remember to like and rb :3 also reqs are open!

you hadn't meant for the argument to escalate, but once bucky started raising his voice, everything spiraled. his usual calm demeanor was gone, replaced by something sharp and cutting, words that stung more than either of you anticipated.

“you never listen!” his voice boomed, louder than he likely intended, but it still made you flinch.

your arms instinctively wrapped around yourself, trying to shrink into the couch, wishing you could disappear altogether. your mind raced with anxious thoughts, the familiar tightness in your chest creeping up.

bucky noticed the shift in your posture, the way your face turned away, how small you looked compared to just a few minutes ago. his breath hitched, and the anger quickly drained from his features, replaced by guilt that settled heavy in his gut. he took a tentative step forward, his hand reaching out before it faltered, unsure.

“hey… i—" his voice was much softer now, almost apologetic, but you didn’t meet his eyes.

he knelt in front of you, his large hands resting on his knees as he sat there quietly, watching you closely. "i’m sorry," he muttered, his voice rough around the edges but sincere. “i shouldn’t have yelled.”

you still didn’t move, staring blankly at the floor, your arms hugged tight around yourself like a protective shield. bucky shifted a little closer, the edge of his fingers brushing your knee. “please, doll… look at me.”

the gentleness in his voice made your chest ache, and your resolve crumbled. you turned your head slightly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. he looked guilty, almost pained. his brows furrowed, eyes soft as they searched your face for any sign of what you were feeling.

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, leaning in just enough to rest his hand on top of yours. “i got caught up in my own damn head, and i took it out on you.” his thumb grazed your knuckles slowly, grounding you. “that’s on me.”

you blinked, feeling the familiar prick of tears threatening to spill over. he squeezed your hand gently, not pushing for anything more than what you could give.

"i’m here, okay?" he murmured. "i’m not going anywhere."

with a shaky breath, you nodded, finally letting your fingers curl around his hand, the warmth of his touch comforting in a way only bucky could provide. he pulled you towards him, arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close as he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.

“i’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper now. his grip was tight, like he needed to feel you close to remind himself that you were still here, still with him.

you buried your face in his hair, taking in the familiar scent of him, letting the weight of his apology settle between the two of you. his hands rubbed slow, soothing circles along your back, and you melted into him, the fight already forgotten.

bucky lifted his head after a moment, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your jaw. “forgive me?”

you sniffed, nodding into his chest as he kissed your forehead again, this time lingering a little longer. his lips brushed against your temple, his scruff tickling your skin, drawing a quiet giggle from you despite everything.

“there’s my girl,” he whispered, smiling against your skin. “we’re okay, right?”

"yeah, james." you whispered back, sinking further into his embrace, a soft hand slowly bringing his chin down to yours. "we’re okay."