#if you see the mistakes i made no you don't

[justalittlespore]

The last time I DMed for a group of people, I had just a bit of experience from many years prior, and most of them had no experience at all. But I'd built a whole world and loose story and was excited to share it with people, so I got this group together to give it a shot.

I made the mistake of having them start out as strangers, with a grand plan to bring them together as a group. You see, I was under the misapprehension that, having agreed to play this game, they were interested in the world and story I'd set up, and would therefore take the hooks I laid for them and find reasons to work together. Because I was a fool.

When they made their characters, I asked them to fill in some basic info for me, including someone important from their life (who was still living), their greatest goal in life, and what their character's main motivation would be to go on an adventure.

Half the players tried to treat the game like a single-player sandbox video game and got frustrated and accused me of railroading them when I asked them to please not run alone into the woods in the very first scene when the characters have all just met and been given a reason to work together. At the first sign of any kind of danger, one player would simply say "my character is a coward so he would run away" and refuse to take part in anything.

One player specified in my questionnaire that his character thought himself very wise (a devoutly religious monk, in fact), but was actually very foolish, and was the type to get drawn in by get-rich-quick schemes. So I prepared a hook to draw him into the plot involving an NPC trying to sell him on a get-rich-quick scheme... which he promptly refused to engage with because he'd decided that actually his character was too zen to be tempted with worldly possessions.

When I began to get exasperated, several of the players pointed out that a good DM like Brennan Lee Mulligan never seemed to have any trouble adapting to what players wanted to do. They were unreceptive to my counter points that 1) that is his entire job, which he is paid for, and 2) his players are skilled improvisers and all actively working together to tell the best story possible.

I feel I should note that at this time, all of us in this group were in our 30s. And not, say, 14-year-olds who you might expect this entitled attitude from.

After a few sessions of desperately trying to keep the characters in the game at all without totally railroading them, I asked everyone to please watch a couple specific episodes of Adventuring Academy with Brennan Lee Mulligan which were about how to be a good player so that everyone has the best possible experience. I had already told them that I was spending literally 8 hours per week planning these sessions and trying to find ways to keep things going and keep together a group of people who desperately wanted to be brooding loners, and I promised them bonus XP at the start of the next session if they would just watch one or two of these videos.

At the start of the next session, one player proudly announced that he hadn't watched the videos, and that he wouldn't, no matter how I tried to bribe him, because he didn't think that being a player in a tabletop roleplaying game should come with homework.

When reminded (again) that I was spending 8 fucking hours a week planning these sessions, for which I was not being compensated in any way, and which he was making harder, he shrugged and said that it was my idea to start this campaign, so it was up to me to keep it going, and keep the players interested enough to keep showing up.

I don't DM anymore.

D&D 5e supposedly has a GM shortage and idk maybe if the player culture of the game didn't treat GMing as a thankless job and the rules of the game as an issue to be fixed by the GM maybe things would be better. Ah well, who knows. Maybe a couple hundred more "we ruined the GM's campaign on purpose" memes will make people enjoy running the game better.

[bluetooththereptile]

The other family

(Yandere batfamily x reader) (Coraline coded au)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

This fic was inspired by this post.

Note: I've loosely based this on Wika by Olivier ledriot and tales of Bogymen taking abused and neglected children away to punish the parents.

Tw: yandere tendencies, child neglect, horror?

The sound of the crickets outside your open window was mixed with the distant noises of the fan in your room working to help with the heat that had haunted Wayne Manor for a week now, the heat wave that had hit Gotham a few days ago was unbearable, even during the nights. You tossed around in your bed, refusing to let go of the green dragon plushie that had been your loyal companion for your days at daycare. You looked into its faded eyes because of rough use and a pout came to your lips, maybe you should take Hamlet with you, yeah, the other mom would allow it right?

You had spent your days enjoying your slushies, and milkshakes, playing video games, and rolling on the cool sheets of your bed, but whatever you did you found yourself slowly losing your patience, they had said you could go back to them every weekend so where was the other cat? You poked your head out of your bedroom now and then to catch a glimpse of its white fluffy fur but it was nowhere to be seen in the dark hallway that seemed to stretch on.

Trying to pass the time you snuck out of your room to take another ice cream from the freezer, maybe its taste would calm your nerves, you were supposed to be asleep by nine pm but you knew you had to stay awake until midnight for the other cat to come and find you, it was it's routine by now even if it meant you'd get scolded by Alfred, the only person that cared for your sleep schedule, it was worth it!

You walked past the empty rooms of Others who had gone to patrol that night, your feet made little noise as you walked past the rooms one by one, turning past the corners to get to the main staircase of the Manor, you glanced at the few doors you could recognize in the dim light, holding hamlet closer to your chest as you walked past Dick's guest room, he always said he'd be there for you, but you couldn't remember the last time he had sat down to talk to you like he did with others, maybe it was because he was too old for you? But he always told others that he didn't care about that. You couldn't comprehend why you were invisible to your oldest sibling.

You walked past Tim's room as well before poking your head to the corner that lead to the room Mom and Dad shared, you padded closer, peaking in with curiosity through the ajar door to see your mom sitting behind her vanity desk, lazily filing her nails as she talked to her phone. Her back facing the door. She had put on her usual hair curling rolls, the sound of her soft chuckles in the air as she spoke with her friend. Mom never laughed like that when she was with you or Dad, unless she was shopping, maybe she liked buying gifts for herself so that was why she was happy shopping? You loved gifts too!

"Yeah I don't know, Bruce is getting rather boring, to be honest" Selina sighed as she leaned back in her seat, putting her slender legs up on the low-level vanity, "yeah, good thing I've dragged on the engagement, imagine I bite the trap" She snorted as she filed her forefinger, "Y/N?" You tensed at hearing your name "I'm not sure about the kid, I mean I never wanted a child to begin with but now that I'm strapped to a grown-up toddler what else can I do but stay? I don't know maybe I give up the custody to Bruce or something like that, you know me, I'm not for the domestic life"

Hearing your mom say those things was both confusing and sad, you didn't understand why mom didn't love dad, dad loved her so much! To the point that he always made sure to call her every day! Dad rarely called to the daycare to talk with you, unless he wanted to say happy birthday or something like that since rarely came home at night, Alfred would pick you up or send someone trusted to take you back home, but Dad made sure to take Mom everywhere himself! Plus if mom didn't like you why did she give birth to you? Were you unwanted?

You clutched Hamlet to your chest and buried your face into its fur as you walked passed the door towards the kitchen. Maybe you would take a bag of snacks with the ice cream, yeah eating always soothed you. Getting down the stairs you walked inside the kitchen, sneaking in to open the door of the double freezer only to be stopped by Alfred who gave you a knowing look, making you freeze as you sheepishly looked up.

"I just wanted a chocolate ice cream, it's too hot in my room," you said trying to give your best puppy eyes look, the older man put his hands on his hips giving you a scolding look in return "Too much dairy makes your stomach hurt, remember?" He spoke, his voice firm but not harsh, you pouted as you held the handle of the freezer's door "Please just tonight? I've been good today" you pleaded, Alfred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he gave in and handed you a small tub of ice cream with a spoon. "Just be careful to not spill it alright?" He spoke softly, his eyes saddening a little as he watched your small smile, you rarely smiled these days.

You walked out of the kitchen, holding the cold tub in your hand before you froze at the sight of the white feline at the end of the hall, looking at you expectantly, the tub and the spoon fell from your hand as if you were under a spell and you enthusiastically followed the cat, eyes wide with excitement "Alfred!" You called in a hushed tone to the other cat who was sitting patiently for you, its crimson eyes blinking softly as its long tail swished about, Damian's cat Alfred never liked you for some reason, but this one loved being around you purring as it came to your vicinity.

"Hello, kitty kitty!" You bent down to pet the fluffy creature who arched its back to your touch, lovingly rubbing against your legs, gently kneading your slippers. The soft "mrrp" sound of the cat made you smile more, searching under its chin. "Good kitty!" You cooed, before giggling softly as the cat licked your fingers gently, rubbing its head to your fingers to make you pet it a little more, purring a storm.

After the cat had its fair share of your attention it turned around and padded away before turning back to look at you as if to say "What are you waiting for? Follow me!" You followed the feline creature with a big smile on your lips, walking through hallway after hallway, not noticing the walls and temperature shifting as the other cat guided you to another world. It was your weekly routine now.

It soon turned too cold as you walked deeper into the hallways and you started to shiver, holding Hamlet even closer as you finally walked through a single door at the end of the hallway you were at, entering the entrance hall of the Wayne Manor again, where you had started your journey with the other cat, but the coldness of the air and the eerie lights of the lamps and candles gave you the signs that you were at the Other Side.

You looked around squealing with joy at the sight of the other Alfred who held a large blanket for you, standing by a large chair close to the light fireplace greeted you with a warm smile, chuckling as you ran to him, opening his arms before snugging you in the warm blanket in his hands. He gently wrapped you up fully, putting you on the chair to warm you up. He hummed a soft song under his breath, making you giggle as he wiped your face with a warm towel he had nearby. The other Alfred rarely spoke for some reason.

"My baby!" The other mom called for you loudly, making your head snap up and you nearly fell from your seat from excitement at the sight of her in a comfortable set of clothes, so much different than what your mom used to wear, making you feel uncomfortable even if she was at home with you. "Mo-!" Before you could say anything you were in other mom's arms, showered with her kisses. "Oh, my baby! How I've missed you!" She kept kissing your now rosy cheeks, giggling with you as she held you close. She smelt of lilacs, and she was even more beautiful than your own mom, her silvery eyes were warm, just like her smile. She didn't wear too much makeup that would cake on your skin like whenever your own mom kissed you. Her skin was soft and her unpainted lips were always smiling, making your little heart flutter.

You let out a soft squeak when you felt more pressure around you, sneaking a peak from the other mom's embrace to see the other dad holding both you and the other mom, smiling warmly. "How have you been my sweetling?" The other dad's voice was deeper and he had the same silver eyes as the others on the other side. You felt your cheeks hurt from how much you were smiling. A loud laugh left you as the other dad tickled you through the blanket, the couple chuckling at the sight of your joy. The other dad was always home when you were visiting the other side, even if others were on patrol he was there, he still loved the other mother just like your dad did, but the other also loved...you.

The other dad held you two for a long time, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn't run away just like the first time you did when you had gotten into the other side. Which had become a side joke with your other family. "You need a good bath and new clothes before dinner" The other mom hummed as she sniffed your hair, her comment finally breaking the hold of the hug around you.

The other dad picked you up without a struggle, making you giggle "Daddy!" You called, making a soft shuddering breath leave his lips at the way you called him that, you had started opening up to the couple and it filled them with joy, you had heard the other Alfred and the other Dick discuss this before, apparently, the other mom and dad were depressed for a long, long time. You couldn't see how the other mom put her hand over her mouth as she nearly teared up at the way you called the other Bruce that. "Again" the other dad whispered "hm?" You tilted your head to the side, holding Hamlet with your hand as the other held onto the other dad's shoulder "Call me again" the other dad insisted, and you smiled as you called him again "Daddy!", he closed his eyes as he buried his face into your hair for a whole minute, his board shoulders tense as he tried to hold back his tears, his baby was alive again, alive!

The other dad took you to your other room filled with everything you liked after he had come to his senses, the other mom had made sure to decorate your room to your tastes and had even changed the wallpaper three times for you. The fireplace there was on, and the bathroom was already filled with steam coming off of the glistening marble bathtub there, when you got close to the bathroom you curiously looked at the bubbles in the air, gasping. You had never seen a bathbomb make bubbles! "Bubbles!" You squealed in joy as you popped one, making the other dad's smile widen. He kissed your forehead before he put you down gently, the other mom undressed you carefully, and then she shooed her husband away when she started to take off your underwear "It's a private moment with me and my baby!" She had said,  making the other dad groan. You jumped on your feet as the cold air hit you, making the other mom coo as she picked you up by your sides "It's okay! It's okay!" She then lowered you into the warm water, watching with satisfaction as your body eased down.

The other dad left the bathroom as the other mom washed you, soothingly wiping the dried sweat off you with a soft loofah. You had never been washed like this before, sure Alfred washed you nearly daily or you'd manage to shilishali your way in a shower, but it wasn't as enjoyable as this one. The other mom would coo and softly praise you for heeding her gentle orders to put your arms up, holding her hand over your eyes as she poured water on your hair, making goofy hairstyles with you as you watched yourself in the mirror at the other side of the bathroom. Your giggles filling the air, ignorant of the snow falling outside.

After washing you up the other mom carefully rinsed you, drying you up before she gently put soothing lotion on the soles of your feet and your knees that you had scrapped after a rough play at daycare. You loved seeing the other mom dote on you and pamper you like no other. She even made sure to dry your ear canals, making you scrunch up your nose as she hit a spot while drying up your left ear "It was itchy wasn't it?" She asked, chuckling as you nodded. The other mom laughed a lot with you, and you never grew tired of it. Her voice was like an angel's always making you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

The other mom dried your hair with a blow dryer, brushing it carefully before putting on a pair of very cozy and warm pajamas for you. "But Mommy I shouldn't wear pajamas to dinner!" You said, confused "Mommy makes the rules and you can wear whatever you want to dinner" She booped your nose after that, She then gave Hamlet back to you before putting on your fuzzy socks. You wiggled your toes to watch the googly eyes of the bears on your socks move, oh how much you had begged your mom to buy you those cute socks but she hadn't, calling them too silly.

The other mom held you as she walked to the dining room and by the moment she opened the door others burst into energy and mirth at the sight of you, Everyone was there, even the other Damian was smiling! Speaking of your other brother he was quick to rush towards you and hug you tightly after the other mom put you down, Damian never hugged you like this, even if he said he was your older brother, him saying that always rang hollow, but with the other Damian? Oh, it was something else!

Damian held your hand as he guided you to your seat and helped you sit on it, petting your head and Hamlet's. The other mom sat at your left side and the other Damian sat at the right, and as others spoke with each other the other mom put a napkin on your lap and neatly snug one on your collar and chest before she put a spoon full of your favorite stew in your mouth, and you ate with enthusiasm. Chewing the savory roast with both your cheeks full.

The other dad smiled leaning on his elbow as he watched you eat, putting his hand on the other mom's shoulder as she put spoonful after spoonful into your mouth, his eyes soft and full of love for you. You still remembered the first time you had met him, his face was of shock and confusion "Angel?" He had called you but you had meekly mumbled out your name, making him gasp and speak of something along the lines of "Our prayers were answered, glory to Balor!" Who was Balor? No one answered you that.

The other mom was so kind, dabbing napkins on your mouth if a bit of food smeared the corners of it, watching you chew and swallow before putting another spoon of the hearty stew, giving you the juiciest cuts of meat that melted into your mouth. You scrunched up your nose again at her as you tasted a tangy bit, making her giggle "It's alright sweetie, just try to swallow it" and you did with slight difficulty. "Good job!" She clapped her hands together, the ring on her finger shining. The other mom had married the other dad, unlike your mom who seemed to hate that.

You noticed the small dark tint to her nails, her nails had started to darken more and more since the first time you had met, maybe she liked black nail polish? Your mom put on some now and then, but your mind couldn't see how she had grown taller at each visit, oh how her actions had turned more and more clingy, you weren't privy to her tearful night with her mate, when she'd hiss and growl as she shredded the body of another child by the alter of Balor, begging him to give her a chance of a sacrificial ceremony, to which the being had agreed to. Her lost child was coming back home once more.

Your gaze looked around as the other mom put a piece of bread for you to munch on in your hands as Hamlet sat on your lap. You noticed Dick, smiling at him as your memories with him flooded your mind. Even if the other Dick was busy speaking with the other Jason but he still waved to you every time you looked at him, as if he could sense your gaze.

You noticed the other Jason waving your way as well "Nice plushie" he commented, making you hold up Hamlet proudly "Ooh very nice!" The other Jason was so much kinder than the Jason you were used to, he would pick you up and tickle you, blowing raspberries on your belly and smile whenever you talked to him, even if you still could see the pain in his eyes he made sure to dote on you, playing with you and Hamlet.

The other Tim was busy eating his food, but he gave you glances, each time smiling as your eyes met, he had insisted on reading you books when you took naps at the other side since the very first time, though it had turned into more a rivalry with him and the other mom and the other Damian to take turns tucking you in.

The other Damian held your hand as he ate his food in silence, gently squeezing your hand every so often, offering his piece of food as if to mimic the other mom "Damian you know my baby gets stomachaches if you give your baby sibling too much dairy" She gently reminded the other Damian who with a loud "Hmph" took his spoon away from your mouth, making you pout. "It's okay sweetie, I'm just looking out for you" She chuckled as she pinched your nose gently. 

The other Duke and Cass were nowhere to be seen, maybe they were on patrol that night, but you missed Cass's warm hugs and Duke's play times as you and him made pillow forts, having the other dad and Damian force siege onto it.

Everyone was happy, you were happy, and blissfully...ignorant. Maybe it was for the better as the other Alfred once had said to the couple "Let the child be oblivious to everything happening, it helps the transition to proceed smoother, stress and anxiety affect a child's choice."

It all had started with the bridge between the parallel worlds becoming thin when you had passed into a door during a restless night, entering a darker version of the world you lived in that was shrouded in perpetual night and winter, where the dark fae resided. You didn't know every human alive had a fae double living their own life on the other side, that was why you didn't know your own double had been long dead at the hands of the other joker, and how much your other family were overjoyed to find you there. And the other Selina, became obsessed with the idea of taking her child back by any means possible.

"It is against the rules" the other Bruce had said as his wife suggested the idea of taking you into the fold of the kin residing on the other side, but she had reminded him "They don't want the poor thing! We can give the sweet angel the love a child like the little one deserves! Look how eagerly the child clings to you! The child needs us, my love, the child needs me!" And that was when the family decided on setting a plan to turn your weekly visits, into a permanent stay.

"Sweetie" the other mom called for you" Everyone quieted down as they realized the moment of truth was going to happen "Do you want to stay with us?" The other mom asked softly as she rubbed your back "I'd love to stay the night Mommy!" You answered, making Alfred smile at your blissful innocence "No sweet baby, I mean do you like to stay with us forever?" The other father chimed in and you frowned as you tried to think. The other mom bit her lip nervously, maybe it was too early for her to suggest it? The couple watched anxiously as you tried to think about your decision "If I agree, I will be with mommy and daddy forever?" "Forever sweetie, and we won't leave you, ever" the other mom cooed, holding your hand as Hamlet fell onto the ground. "We will have lots of fun, mommy will be your best friend, and Daddy and others will play with you nonstop!" You smiled at the thought of it, melting the dark hearts of the fae sitting around the table. "Yes, mommy!" You agreed, and upon that, the mood shifted.

At hearing that the lights turned a greenish hue, as if on cue, and everyone seemed to grow taller and taller as your own body turned heavy, the illusion magic was wearing off and yet the couple was surprised to see you weren't panicking. "I'm sleepy Mommy" you mumbled with a soft yawn, and the female fae cooed softly at hearing that "It's alright sweetling, mommy will make sure to tuck you in" She reached out and picked up Hamlet from the ground, the plushie morphing into a grotesque figure of a dragon in her clawed hands before she tucked the toy in your arms. Your eyelids grew heavier as you sunk into the large seat behind the table, not noticing how everyone stood up from their seats, bowing to the haunting shadow appearing in the room.

A hissing voice spoke in a language you didn't know, and the female fae picked you up, holding you by the back of your knees and shoulders, passing you into the massive bony arms of the God of the dark elves, Balor, who wrapped you in its tangible shadowy form "Do not worry for the babe, rest this night my children, for tomorrow we will rejoice for a fae, reborn."

Your eyes closed as you slipped into a peaceful slumber. Before you found yourself in a bed of flowers, lying beside an angelic man in a lush garden. "Shush my child, sleep" the man soothed you "Birth will be painful" he murmured, gently tapping your chest as he lulled you into rest in your dream before the emergence of another life. "Your parents are waiting for you" he whispered in your ear with a warm voice, and then, your mortal heart stopped in his arms, your soul leaving your body that would soon the body of the many children in the garden of Balor, to land into the carefully preserved one of the sweetling of the other family of yours.

Born anew, in bliss and pain.

It took three days for everyone to notice you were gone, without a trace, nothing was lost but you and your favorite plushie, leaving your parents forever haunted by the memories of the child they took for granted.

Tags: @craulo13 @gaozorous-rex-blog @090909yh @demonprodegy @marise-eternal @jersules @goodsoup19 @candlejuice @worshipcoffee @geniegirlrocks @ghostgangleader @obsessedwithromance @theblacksirenofwinter2004 @ranshin03 @prettyboys247 @kinuraoj @iwannabeapinkaesthetic @legendarylearner18

[esmedelacroix]

minors gtfo . i need y/n to step on toxic!sukuna's neck and not be a doormat for a sec .

Angry feminist bitch!reader who ghosted toxic!sukuna after they hooked up on their first date.

Don't be mistaken, it wasn't for no reason. Angry feminist bitch!reader was shocked by Sukuna’s lack of after care, she simply had to remove herself from the situation. I mean did you expect him to kiss you and tell you he loved you? Hell no. But after the delicious pounding you were given, a pat on the back or carrying you to the toilet would have been fine.

You realized then and there that Sukuna had lied. He didn’t want a genuine relationship. You didn’t know why you thought you would meet a guy who was serious about you on a dating app anyway. It was unfortunate because you had had the best sex of your life.

You were gripping the sheets as he pounded you from the back. He spanked you and pulled your hair and you were loving every second. You felt fireworks ignite in your stomach as he played with your clit as you came on his fat cock. The sexual attraction and his lust was perceived to you as a 'spark.' You promised yourself you wouldn't make that mistake again.

Angry feminist bitch!reader who left Sukuna’s apartment the moment she realized he was a piece of shit who didn’t know how treat a woman right. No after care was already a red flag. Then there was the multiple times in the bar he addressed you as ‘woman’ instead of your fucking name.

Toxic!sukuna found himself randomly thinking about you whenever he went back to that same bar he took you to. His tastes had changed. You and that attitude of yours had blown him away. You ruined him in just one night. You and your tight wet little cunt.

Convincing himself he wasn't hooked on you, he looked for girls with your height, girls with eyes like yours, or your hair, but he couldn’t find one just right. The woman were beautiful but they weren’t you. Especially in the bedroom. You were a little brat. Not afraid to defy him. Fucking yourself back on him and continuing even after he slapped your ass just so he'd do it harder.

His dick jumped in his jeans when you told him off for ordering your food for you. "I'm perfectly capable of speaking for myself," you snapped. You then proceeded to order the exact menu item he had chosen for you. Or the time when he also tried to order you a fruity cocktail and you rolled your eyes just looking to the bartender who apparently knew you well and he slid you a scotch and soda.

After failing his search for a carbon copy of you on the dating apps where he usually found women to fuck and ghost, he sat alone at the bar picking at a blooming onion. "Trouble in paradise, player?" the bartender asked sliding him a pint of Guinness(you called it liquid shit on your date).

Sukuna slightly smiled to himself at that memory of you. "Yeah, I fumbled man," he admitted.

"I figured, after your date with _____ went south and you kept comin' in with girls that somewhat looked like her," he chuckled.

"Why are you so observant?" he scoffed pouting to himself. Toji shrugged in response.

"Bartender thing. We know it all."

"You probably know how to win her back too," Sukuna assumed.

"Maybe."

"Tell me man, do me a solid," Sukuna insisted.

"I don't know dude, I see how you move. I just don't want you to break her heart. She's my friend you know," Toji explained. Toji had heard all the tales about Ryomen from the drunk women that would come and cry about him. He heard about the no after care. He knew about the ghosting. He knew he only called the girls he 'dated' when he wanted to fuck. He knew he talked to women with zero respect. He didn't want you to get hurt(he knew you wouldn't let that happen) and wanted to be a supportive friend.

"Well she still went back to my place after. She must have liked me a little bit. You could argue I made her happy," Sukuna claimed with his arms crossed.

Toji chuckled at that, "That woman loves sex. She probably just wanted an orgasm outta ya. She's also getting closer and closer to misandry because of guys like you so just give up on her. She's too good for you."

"Hearing that from you, one would think you like her," Sukuna accused.

"Well of course I do. She's like a star. She's so far above me, I'm content with just watching her shine, hoping that one day I could be one too," he mused.

After hearing a big tough guy like Toji's poetic ass hogwash he knew he wasn't nearly man enough to be worthy of you. So he couldn't help be shocked when you answered one of his stupid spontaneous texts that night. He had begged her for a redo on their date again and she had finally answered, 'fine." after the 80th try. Angry feminist bitch!reader who just couldn’t help herself. So he was a misogynistic shit head, the dick was too good. Besides, you could change him.

. . .

a/n: shall I continue ? lmk cus this was just word vomit .

[navybrat817]

Chokehold

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You have a crush on Bucky and start to bond with him over coffee in the break room, but there's no way he could possibly feel the same way about you... right?

Word Count: Over 11k (yep!)

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dirty talk, fluff, longing, minor angst, insecurities, feels, sparring, swearing, confessions, getting together, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: I've been sitting on this one (thanks for listening to my back and forth on this @targaryenvampireslayer), and I hope you all enjoy. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by the talented @enchanthings-a. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You fell for Bucky Barnes the moment you met. Something dangerous lurked in his steel blue eyes when you introduced yourself to him, but beneath the surface was pain and loneliness that you wanted to take away. Of course, that could've been you projecting and wanting to justify having a crush on a guy who hadn't spoken a word to you.

“Bucky,” was all he said to you, entrancing you with the deep baritone of his voice.

You wished you could say it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but you could count on one hand the number of times he spoke to you in the months that followed. You tried not to take it personally. Maybe he wasn't interested in making new friends since he seemed to stay close to Steve, Sam, and their small group. Or maybe he just didn't see a reason to trust you. Trust likely wasn't easy for him and what reason did he have to open up to you?

“Hi!” you exclaimed when Bucky walked into the break room, your echoing voice making you wince. “Sorry. I didn't mean to greet you at that decibel.”

“It’s okay,” he said, your eyes on him as he strode to the coffee machine with ease.

Bucky wasn't your friend, but it didn't stop you from greeting him whenever you saw him throughout the building, a warm feeling spreading in your chest every time he acknowledged you with a slight head nod or grunt. That had to mean something since he didn't outright ignore you. Not being his friend also didn't keep you from learning little things about him, like how he took his coffee.

Which you decided to surprise him with today.

“Wait! I made you some coffee,” you told him, going to get the mug you had ready for him. “I hope you like it.”

You had a reputation around S.H.I.E.L.D. for being kind to others ever since you joined. You didn't mind that being your signature since you liked putting a bit of kindness out into the world. Besides the tough work you did, your coworkers and teammates fought other battles every day that you knew nothing about. So why not try to lift others up? It costs you nothing.

Being nice, however, had a downside or two. Some thought that kindness was insincere or a weakness. It also didn't get you a lot of dates. Or maybe you didn't pay attention to other guys since you had eyes for one man.

You couldn't get a read on him as you carefully handed it to him. “You made me coffee?” he asked in disbelief, a soft look in his eyes before he blinked it away.

“Yep! With cream and sugar.”

Your smile faltered when he raised an eyebrow and glanced suspiciously at the liquid, like he was trying to assess if something was off with it as you wrung your fingers together. “This is really for me?” he asked.

You couldn't detect any anger or annoyance in his tone, but you wouldn't say he sounded happy either. Which only made your smile fall more. “Yeah. I just, I thought you liked it that way and maybe it would help you kickstart the morning, but I shouldn't have assumed. I'm sorry. And you don't have to drink it. I can just dump it out,” you rambled.

He held the mug a bit closer when you tried to take it away, the steam rising from it as his eyes met yours. It was almost as if the heat melted the ice from his stare. “Not gonna let you dump this out after you went to the trouble of making it for me,” he said, gently blowing on it before he took a sip. You reminded yourself not to whimper when he licked a drop away from his lip, wondering just what else he could do with that tongue. “Especially since you know how I like it.”

You avoided his gaze, hoping he didn't question why you knew since there was a chance you’d blurt out that you like him and that was the last thing you needed. You owed him some sort of explanation though, right? “Well, we’re both here some mornings and I saw you make it that way,” you said, your brain overanalyzing how that sounded. “Not that I'm watching you or anything like that. I… I’m not a creep.”

Bucky stared with unreadable eyes as you sighed and shook your head. Leave it to you to fumble over your words with your crush. Was that why they called it a crush? Because it crushed your hopes and dreams?

In a small voice, you said, “I was just trying to be nice.”

“It’s a very nice gesture, so thanks,” he said, taking another sip. “I appreciate it.”

Doing your best not to preen like a peacock at the renewed sliver of hope, you released the breath you were holding and nodded. At least he didn't question why you cared enough to remember how he took his coffee. “You’re welcome,” you said, wishing you could hang around and chat more, but you had work to do and didn't want to smother him. “I hope you have a good day.”

“You, too,” he said, his eyes on you as you headed toward the door. “Maybe I’ll see you here at the same time tomorrow?”

You came to a stop, your heart thudding as you faced him. “You… want me to make you coffee tomorrow?”

He chuckled before he took another sip. “I meant maybe we would just bump into each other, but I won’t turn down another coffee if you’re offering.”

Of course that was what he meant. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Maybe,” you said, backing up and hitting your elbow against the doorframe.

His brows furrowed as you gave him a strained smile. “You okay?” he asked, your cheeks hot as you rubbed your elbow.

“I’m fine! Enjoy your coffee,” you said, wishing the ground would swallow you up as you bolted from the room.

You were a competent agent. A strong woman on top of your kindness. Why did you have to act like an idiot in front of him? There was no chance you’d see him in the break room after that. It was a shame, too. It was the most he had ever spoken to you.

A higher being either took pity on you or wanted to play a trick on you since you did see Bucky the next day. Not only that, no one else was in the break room. Granted, most people used the main break room since this room was much smaller and on a floor most didn't go to. But how was it possible that you were so lucky?

“Morning, Bucky.”

“Morning.” He hesitated before he took a seat at the same table as you. If you were dreaming, you didn’t want anyone to wake you up. “Sorry. I should've asked…”

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “You're welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks.” His cheek twitched and you wondered if it was a nervous tick or something leftover from the hell he endured. “You know, that coffee yesterday was probably the best I’ve ever had from this place.”

You perked up more. “Really? Wow, thanks. It was nothing,” you smiled, your pulse quickening. Not only was Bucky talking to you again, but he complimented you. It was slightly pathetic how much you enjoyed that. “You did say you wouldn’t turn down another coffee if I offered. Would you like one?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile. He actually smiled at you. It was a good morning. “Thanks.”

“You know, you have a really nice smile,” you complimented him, proud that you said the words without your voice cracking.

“You think so?” He leaned back in his seat and you tried to move around the room like normal as his gaze followed your movements. “I think it scares some more than my glare does.”

You busied yourself with getting his coffee ready, the urge to defend him rising. “There’s nothing scary about your smile and anyone who says otherwise can deal with me.”

“They can deal with you, huh? Awfully kind of you.” His chuckle was so unexpected that you almost dropped the mug. The small talk was unexpected, too, but you weren't about to tell him to stop. “But you’re so sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare at anyone.”

“Oh, I can have resting bitch face when I want to,” you teased before your heart skipped a beat. He looked at you enough that he hadn’t seen you glare at anyone? He thought you were sweet? No, it was probably just an offhand comment. “And I wouldn’t just glare at anyone to defend you. I can fight, too. Words or fists.”

“You’d fight for me, too? You really know how to flatter a man.” His gaze warmed before some of the usual strain reappeared, your heart lurching at the sight. “But you shouldn’t have to fight for me.”

You took a seat across from him again once you set the mug down. “Why not?”

“Because you just shouldn’t.” He shrugged. You recognized that he was closing part of himself off and you weren't about to kick open that door. “If I’m being honest, I’m kind of shocked you’re talking to me.”

“And why’s that?”

He tapped a finger against his mug as he considered his words. “I haven’t really said much to you since we met, but you’ve still been nice to me. Always saying hi and smiling. And now this,” he said, gesturing to the coffee. “Some people have ulterior motives when they do nice things for no reason, but I don't get that feeling with you.”

“There are people who have ulterior motives. You’re right about that,” you agreed. The world could be a dark place with terrible people. “And I guess that's one of the reasons I try to lead with kindness. Putting a bit more optimism and joy into the world might not make it change overnight, but it could make a difference to someone.”

“That makes sense,” he said, his brows pinching. “But why continue to be nice to me when I've been standoffish with you? I don't think I deserve it.”

You let the words sink in. You expected Bucky would be apprehensive of people in general when his autonomy was taken away from him for so long. Trust couldn’t be easy. People had to earn it. What you didn't expect was that he didn't think he deserved your kindness.

“Everyone is different. We all have various personalities and comfort zones. Some people hit it off right away and others don't. Some need a bit more time to open up,” you answered, an earnest smile on your face. “I guess I figured you fell into the latter. Even if you didn't, I wouldn't take it personally or hold it against you. I hope you know that.”

Bucky may have had you in a chokehold, but he didn't owe you a thing.

His shoulders sagged as he let out a breath and you wished you could wrap him up in a hug. “Thanks for being so understanding.” He observed you with a thoughtful gaze. “And you are right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Your kindness made a difference for me yesterday. And you’re really easy to talk to.” He smiled, genuine affection in his eyes as your heart raced. Was it possible to faint while sitting? “I don't usually talk this much anymore.”

“I’m glad it did. You can always talk to me, you know. I’m happy to listen or even give advice if you want it,” you said sincerely. It meant a lot that he took the time to speak to you today, and if it were up to you he’d only have good things in his life going forward. No one deserved that more than him. “And if I’m ever too much for you, don't be afraid to tell me.”

His brows pinched again. “Too much? How?” he asked, his tone not as light as it was a moment ago.

You tensed, gripping your mug as you mulled over past things you heard from others. “Well, I’ve been told before that I’m too perky and too optimistic some days. That my kindness is fake and it can get on people’s nerves,” you explained carefully, swallowing a little. Yeah, you had a reputation for being kind, but some didn’t care for it. “Not that I think you would find me annoying or anything like that. It’s just how it is for some people.”

“So because you choose to be nice instead of acting bitter or rude people don’t like that?” Bucky looked at you with a mix of confusion and anger. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”

You were utterly silent from his reaction. Your heart also fluttered because he seemed upset on your behalf. “So many things, I’m sure,” you teased, hoping to make him smile a little. It was nice when he smiled at you. “But it’s okay. Really. It doesn't change who I am. I'm still going to be me.”

Cheesy, but true. You couldn't control the actions and emotions of others. You knew in your core who you were and you would continue to put that energy out into the world.

His jaw ticked, but he gazed at you with what you guessed was admiration. “Kind and steadfast,” he whispered, making your heart swell all over again. “Listen. If anyone around here does give you a hard time, will you let me know?”

The determination in his eyes took you aback. He went from hardly speaking to you to opening up a bit and now wanting to look out for you. It was nice, to say the least. “That’s okay, Bucky. You said I didn't have to fight for you, so you don't have to for me.”

“I want to.” He reached forward and hovered his hand over yours. Before he touched you though, he pulled away. You longed to know what his touch felt like. “Please?”

You couldn't resist his gaze. “Okay, but only if you let me know if anyone gives you a hard time.”

“Yeah. I got a name for you. Sam Wilson,” he deadpanned.

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth so the sound wouldn’t echo in the room or bother him. “Oh, Sam. I’ll give him a talking to,” you teased, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling.

“I made you laugh,” he pointed out softly, almost in disbelief. It was another moment where you wanted to wrap him up in a hug.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Wow,” he whispered, smiling before his face fell. “Fuck. I have to go.” He went to stand, but paused to look at you. “Do you ever go to the main break room?”

“I prefer this one,” you said, lightly tapping the table. “It’s quieter.”

“Me, too.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, maybe I’ll see you here again tomorrow? Same time?

Warmth spread in your heart at the hope in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

You’d always be there if he asked.

For the next several weeks, seeing Bucky in the small break room became part of your normal morning routine. You made coffee for both of you before you sat together and talked. Some chats were casual, while others went a little deeper. Both ends of the spectrum helped you get to know each other.

He spoke fondly about a cat he found in an alley and took into his home. He named her Alpine and even showed you a photo of her on his phone. It tugged at your heartstrings seeing the ball of white fur curled up in his metal arm. How could it not?

Bucky spoke about Steve and Sam and how they tried to meet up once a week for dinner. They took turns picking the place. It was nice that he had them to lean on. Both men were always friendly toward you, but you noticed they seemed to smile at you even more since you and Bucky started talking. You assumed they were happy that their friend had someone else in his corner.

“Steve is a punk and Sam is worse,” he said once with nothing but affection in his eyes.

He explained that he was in therapy, which he wasn't ashamed of. He had no reason to be. It was a work in progress, building trust not just with the therapist but building trust within himself. He didn't get into specifics regarding what they talked about as it wasn't your business to begin with, though he did casually throw in that he had trouble sleeping some nights. You mentioned that you sometimes wrote your thoughts and feelings down if they got too loud. He told you the next day that he got himself a new notebook to try that out and you had a spring in your step the whole morning.

You didn't talk about anything particularly exciting. You told him that you didn't have a lot of family close by, but loved your job because you got to help people in some capacity. And that you enjoyed reading and watching movies when you stayed at home, but also enjoyed going out with a couple of close friends. Bucky didn't need to know that they loved teasing you about your crush. You mentioned little things, too, like how you needed to go shopping soon for a new sofa and how you hoped to see the new science exhibit at the nearby museum.

The bulk of your conversations took place in the break room, minus occasionally bumping into him around the building which didn't leave much time for chatter. It wasn't a bad thing. It was nice just to talk to him.

And while you didn't think any of the topics you brought up were interesting, Bucky listened intently every time, his eyes on you as he hung on your every word. The attention felt nice. Though you hadn't mustered up the courage to ask him to hang out outside of work, it felt like the two of you were friends because of those mornings together.

Maybe he thought you were friends, too, since he asked one day, “Do you know anything about dating apps?”

You almost spilled his coffee, but quickly recovered and avoided his concerned gaze as you sat down. “Um, no, not much. I haven’t really used them. I haven’t dated in a few months either,” you answered honestly, hoping your tone didn’t sound as bitter as the taste in your mouth. You weren’t embarrassed by your romantic status, but your heart sank just the same. “Are you… Why are you asking? Just out of curiosity.” It wasn’t your business, but it was the first time he brought up anything concerning dating or relationships.

“Sam mentioned setting me up and I brushed that off, so he mentioned using a dating app. I don’t know.” He shrugged as you hung your head.

Something settled within your chest, a heavy feeling that made it difficult to take a steady breath. But you couldn't feel sorry for yourself. Bucky was kind, good looking, and trying to adjust to a sense of normalcy. Of course he’d want to try dating again and what kind of person would you be if you didn't support him?

“Well, I can help you research some apps if you’d like. See if any may be a good fit?”

“Really? You’d do that?” he asked softly.

Your eyes drifted up and you did your best to smile. You couldn't let him see that the mere thought of him dating someone else hurt you. It was pathetic. “Yeah, I would,” you answered. You refused to let your crush on him stop you from helping him if he wanted to meet someone.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds and you almost squirmed in your chair. “But you said you haven't really used them. Why not?”

The unexpected question did make you squirm. You couldn't blurt out that he was one of the reasons. “Well, not to be a downer or anything, but some apps almost seem to set people up for rejection. It just isn’t possible to match every single person up. And there’s also rapid judgment with some based on appearance and it makes it easy to objectify people,” you explained. It was sad, but true. “It does work for some and I’m happy for those people, but I don't know. I’d rather just meet someone and…”

“Connect with them naturally?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” you said, a sad smile touching your lips. “Is it wishful thinking to want something like that?”

“I don’t think it is at all. In fact, that’s a good reason why I probably won’t use an app,” he said. You hoped your sigh of relief wasn’t audible, but the weight lifting from your shoulders felt palpable. “Besides, what would I say if I tried to set up a profile? ‘Hi, I’m a previously brainwashed assassin over 100 years old’?”

“It would be a conversation starter,” you teased, the playful banter bringing a warm smile to his face. “And I know I brought up rapid judgment, but I’m sure one look at your profile picture and people would line out the door just to get your attention,” you smiled and gestured to his face, but his gaze dropped, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. “I’m sorry. I…”

He shook his head, and you caught a hint of a smile that made your heart flutter. “No, it’s… It’s kind of nice to hear that,” he admitted, his gaze drifting away like he was lost in thought. “Dating came easy to me years ago and I don’t think I really appreciated it back then. The thought of trying again is a little scary.”

His voice was soft, almost reflective, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. You felt a swell of empathy for the weight of his past. “Well, whenever your next date happens? I hope they know how lucky they are,” you said, your heart aching to convey how deserving he was of genuine connection.

You just wished that connection was with you.

The warm smile returned to his face as he gazed at you. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Your heart ached in your chest. “Anytime,” you whispered back, quickly standing up before tears pricked your eyes. “I should get to work. Have a good day, okay?”

“Oh. You, too.” He looked like he wanted to stop you, but he hung back. It was all in your head anyway. He didn't want to stop you. Why would he?

You wiped your eyes once you were out of the break room. Rushing away was cowardly and you knew it. It was silly, too.

You wondered if the coffee talks would continue once he found his dream girl. Would he tell you about her? Would bile rise to your throat when he sang their praises or smiled a soft smile not reserved for you? You had to stop thinking about it. You couldn't fall apart just because Bucky wasn't yours, and it was something you’d need to come to terms with when he found someone else.

And maybe tomorrow it wouldn't hurt so much.

Bucky looked a little tired when he joined you the next morning, not saying a word. He still offered you a smile. You didn't speak either, but you gave him a small smile in return.

The night before, you wrestled with the idea of telling him how you felt. All you had to do was get the words out. But the words froze in your throat like ice and you kept quiet, both of you sipping your coffee as the seconds passed by.

You almost wanted to fill the void with more chatter, but it didn’t feel necessary. The silence was oddly comforting. Silence was also safe. He seemed content just to sit there with you, and you were afraid you’d blurt something out that you couldn’t take back.

“Did I do something to upset you yesterday?” he asked suddenly. His gaze was so gentle, yet deep, looking for an answer you couldn't fully give him. “You rushed out without finishing your coffee, and you always finish your coffee, so I had to have done something.”

Your heart breaks from his words. Rushing off made him think it was his fault, and you never wanted to imply that. “No, you didn't upset me,” you replied. That was true. Bucky didn't do anything to upset you. It was your own mind and feelings that did that. “I just had work to do.”

He didn't look convinced, and you couldn't blame him. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You put a smile on your face, but you felt terrible. “And I don't think you could do anything to upset me.”

“Then you wouldn't mind sparring with me tomorrow morning by any chance, would you?” he asked.

You inhaled, not expecting him to ask you that. “You want to spar with me?” You discreetly pinched yourself, testing to see if you were dreaming or not. He was asking you to hang out with him outside of the break room. Kind of. “Really?” you added, your heart racing when he nodded.

“Yeah. What do you say?” he asked. Oh, it was a bad idea to spar with Bucky Barnes. Not because you couldn't learn from him, but what the hell were you going to do to reign in your sexual frustration? “Unless you're busy.”

“Yes!” you blurted out quickly, clearing your throat as you tried to regain some of your composure. You swore his cheek twitched like he was trying not to smile. “I mean, no, I'm not busy. I’m totally free and I'd love to spar with you,” you said, praying you sounded normal and not like some lovesick woman with an overgrowing crush.

Which was exactly what you were.

But you weren't about to turn down a chance to spar with him. Who in their right mind would? How many times had you imagined him slamming your body against the mats and pinning you down? Both of you breathing heavily, his face shining from the perspiration. You were thankful the super soldier couldn't read minds because now all you could think about was him tearing your clothes away and spearing you open with his cock and-

“Okay then,” he said, finishing his coffee before he took the mug to the sink. “Second floor gym. Room 2. 6 am.”

“6 am. I’ll be there,” you promised, gazing after him as he walked toward the door. “See you then, Sergeant.”

His entire body went rigid before he looked back at you, the metal fingers of his left arm twitching. Your heart sank, worried that you said something wrong. Would he take back his offer?

You stood up from the table. “Bucky, I-”

An agent walked through the door and bumped Bucky out of the way. At least he tried to. The super soldier didn't budge.

“Excuse me,” Bucky said.

“Watch it,” the agent sneered, bumping his shoulder again. He still didn't budge. “Think you're special because you got some serum in your veins and Rogers wanted to save your ass? You’re nothing.”

You gasped. You could handle people saying things about you, but people you cared about? It made you see red. How dare this guy say anything like that to Bucky?

“Nothing but HYDRA’s little bitch.”

Bucky glared and looked about two seconds away from smacking the guy across the room, but he hung his head after a second and didn't breathe a word. Maybe he didn't want to make a big deal out of it or didn't think it was worth it. You, however, wouldn't put up with it. Not for a second.

“Hey! Agent asshole,” you snapped, marching over until you were between Bucky and the agent. “Apologize to him.”

The agent cackled at you and you heard Bucky’s metal fingers curl. “Apologize? He was in my way.” He reached out a hand to pat your head. “But it’s kind of cute to see you defending the Winter Soldier. That's-” You grabbed his wrist and twisted it. “Ow, fuck!”

“And now I’m in your way,” you said sweetly, twisting a bit more until his knees buckled. “Apologize, now.”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry!” he shouted.

Bucky had a look of awe on his face when you looked back at him. “It’s okay,” he said above a whisper.

You released the guy and pointed at the door. “Whatever you need you can get it later,” you said, satisfied when the agent scrambled out the door.

Bucky stared at you when you faced him, silence hanging in the air. “You okay?” you finally asked. Was twisting the guy’s wrist too much?

“I…” Bucky blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. “You defended me.”

“Well, yeah. I told you if anyone gave you a hard time they could deal with me,” you smiled. It didn't matter how small the matter was, you’d stick up for him. People like that guy often mistook your kindness for weakness. “And what he said was completely out of line.”

“Thank you.” His fingers reached out and touched yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Really. Thank you.”

“Don't need to thank me,” you said, giddy from his small touch. “And, listen, before he rudely interrupted, I was going to ask if it bothered you that I called you Sergeant.”

You thought you saw his fingers twitch again, but he shook his head. “No. I… kind of like hearing that from you.”

“Oh.” You dipped your head to hide your smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow then? 6 am?”

“Yeah, you will,” he said softly, meeting your gaze as you lifted your head again.

“Have a good day then, Sergeant.”

He inhaled sharply. “Don’t be late tomorrow,” he gruffly spoke before he left the room without another word, hearts in your eyes as you stayed rooted to the spot.

You mentally jumped for joy from how excited you were. You couldn't keep the smile off your face the rest of the day. Bucky could've asked anyone in the building to spar with him, but he chose you. And he stuck up for you because some guy bumped into you. Now you just had to make sure you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in the morning.

Easy enough, right?

You spent more time than you cared picking out the perfect exercise outfit. It didn't matter what you wore since he only asked you to practice with him. It wasn't like he asked you out on a date. Still, you were hopeful that the matching black set would make him look at least once.

If anything, it was a confidence booster for yourself since you liked how you looked in it.

“Confidence is sexy,” you smiled before you grabbed your bag to go.

You got to the gym in record time, not wanting to be late or keep him waiting. Nodding to a few people on machines before you made it to the second floor, you had to pause and take a breath before you entered Room 2. The air was a bit cooler in the sparring area, which was good considering you’d likely work up a sweat.

Dropping your bag near the door, you nearly jumped when you spotted Bucky a few feet away staring at you. “Right on time,” he said, your throat dry as he nodded to the mat. “I stretched before you got here.”

“Hey,” you said, removing your jacket, the zipper loud in the quiet room. You gave him what you hoped was a nice smile when you went to the mat. “Shouldn't take me long.”

The Sergeant stood against the wall with his arms crossed as you began to stretch, one foot pressed against it as his eyes slid over to you. Quickly averting your gaze, you tried to concentrate on warming up instead of how good he looked in his workout gear. While his sweatpants hung low on his hips, the dark short sleeved shirt clung to him like a second skin. He had his hair pulled back, too, which only enhanced how bright his eyes looked under the ceiling lights.

You refused to get aroused just from looking at him.

Too. Fucking. Late.

“You good? You don't seem as chipper as usual,” he said.

“Yeah, I…” What were you even going to say? That his mere presence in his current attire made you wet? “I didn't have my coffee before I left, so no caffeine. This might wake me up.”

He didn't seem convinced, but he nodded after a moment. “I know the feeling,” he said with a soft smile. “Thanks for joining me so early. And sorry if it threw off your routine.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Morning exercises are good for the mind and body,” you said, standing once you finished stretching. He probably had a full schedule ahead of him. “I have to admit though, just like you were surprised I was nice to you a while back, I'm a little surprised you asked me to spar with you.”

“And why is that?” he asked as he approached the mat, all confidence as he took his spot.

Your throat went dry again before you cleared it. “Because someone like Steve is more evenly matched,” you said. Super soldier to super soldier, you could go for hours. “And chances of me beating you are also pretty slim.”

Way to downplay yourself.

“You nearly brought that agent to his knees yesterday and you didn't break a sweat.” His head tilted a fraction, his eyes carefully taking you in from head to toe. “You don't think you can take me?”

Your next breath came out in a rush. If you didn't know any better, you would've said he asked that on purpose. Oh, you had imagined Bucky telling you how well you'd take him, but not like this. You'd take what you can get.

“I can take you,” you stated.

You could only describe the look in his eyes as feral as he got into position. “I'm sure you can,” he said, your only warning before he rushed at you.

Blocking Bucky’s hit, you told yourself not to smile and focused on dodging another hit. He had advantages on his side, like his strength with the serum in his veins, but you were determined to show him that you were a worthy opponent. You also knew he wouldn't try to harm you. Anything he threw your way would be to help you improve.

Bucky grinned when he blocked your kick and you almost let it distract you. “I think you're giving me a run for my money,” he said before he performed a back full twisting layout to dodge another kick. Was that the proper term? Whatever it was, the move was more agile than you could comprehend.

“And I think you’re showing off,” you teased, extending your leg for a sweep instead. You huffed when he flipped away again. “Either that or Steve’s theatrics have rubbed off on you.”

“Don't tell him that. Wouldn't want him to get a big head,” he winked.

The back and forth went on for a few minutes, your breathing heavier and heart racing. Part of you wondered if he was pulling punches for your sake, but he didn't let up. It was exhilarating. You hoped he asked you to spar with him again.

“Tell me something.” Bucky brushed some of the loose hair back with the back of his hand, both of you panting lightly as the motions stopped for a second. “Why are you single?”

Your eyes widened at the question. “W-What?” you breathed, almost losing your footing as you stepped back. Why would he ask you that and why now?

“You told me why you don't use dating apps and you want to make a genuine connection, but you haven't mentioned anyone special,” he shrugged, tilting his head when he stepped forward. “You know you can tell me if there’s someone you like, right?”

“Maybe we can have this conversation when we’re done sparring?” you suggested. It would give you a chance to collect yourself.

He shook his head. “No, I think we should have this conversation now, if that’s okay.”

“I guess. If you insist.” You blocked his swing, barely. “There’s… someone I like, but I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

His cheek twitched, like he wasn't expecting that answer. “Who is he? Do I know him?”

That question threw you off a bit more. Why did he want to know who? “Yeah. Yeah, you do,” you said.

“Is it Steve? Sam?” he pressed, a hint of anger in his eyes. “Some other agent?”

“No, no, and no,” you replied, sighing as you dropped your arms. “Listen, do we really-”

Bucky swept your legs out from under you. The air left your lungs when your back hit the mat and he settled over you before you could get up, pinning your arms at your side. You tried to twist out of his hold and couldn't even use your thighs to roll him off you since he had those pinned, too.

“You let your guard down,” he said.

“Yep,” you said, the word clipped as you tried to look anywhere but at him. It was impossible. He was everywhere.

“Now this guy you like,” he started with a tilt of his head. He wasn't letting this go, was he? “If it’s someone I know and he isn't Steve, Sam, or another agent, who is he?”

You bit your lip, wishing you a chance to hide or bolt.

“Tell me,” he begged, his eyes staring into yours. “Please.”

Oh, God. Did he have any clue how you felt? At the very least, could he sense how he affected you by laying on top of you? How hard your nipples were against your top or the wetness that gathered between your thighs?

Now wasn't the time to focus on being horny.

He sighed when you didn’t speak. “Answer this then: Is there even the slightest chance that it’s me?” he asked, the question hanging in the air between you.

“I…” You swallowed hard as he waited patiently for your answer with an expectant gaze. He was so close and the position was too vulnerable, but you had to bite the bullet and tell him the truth. “It isn't a slight chance. It's one hundred percent you.”

“What?” he whispered.

Super soldier hearing, he should've heard you perfectly clear, right? “I like you, Bucky. I care about you. I pretty much have since I met you,” you finished, the quiet admittance making your chest burn.

It was out in the open now and no longer suppressing your feelings was a good thing.

He stared straight into your eyes, your heart picking up a notch. “You like me?” The weight of him left your thighs, but you couldn't breathe when he settled between them. “At the risk of sounding like an arrogant prick, are you single because you’ve been waiting for me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, swallowing again. “And you aren’t arrogant. Far from it.”

“So, every morning we’ve had coffee together and even before that, you cared about me? And when I brought up the dating app a couple of days ago and you offered to help me, you had feelings for me? And when you defended me?” He tilted his head further when you nodded. “And you didn't say anything until now?” It didn't feel like an accusation, but your eyes welled up anyway.

“Yes, the whole time. I didn't want to tell you and make things weird if you didn't feel the same way and I would've rather have you as a friend than nothing at all. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rambled as a tear slid from the corner of your eye. You weren't trying to deceive him by keeping your crush on him a secret. “We are kind of friends, right?”

The two of you hadn’t hung out outside of work, but there was something there. At the very least, there was a comradery. After this, who knew if he’d even want to speak to you again.

“I don't want to be your friend,” he said with conviction, your heart shattering. It was like he punched you right in the gut and maybe you deserved that. He smiled softly, something beautifully tragic when you struggled beneath him. Why wasn't he letting you up? “Wait, no, no. That’s not what I meant.”

You went limp when you couldn't break his hold. “Then what do you mean?!”

“I want to be so much more than that.”

“You…” the rest of the words died on your lips because what did he say?

A metal finger moved down your cheek, the touch cool against your warm skin as he wiped another tear away. The finger then tipped your chin before his mouth descended on yours. You weren't sure why you expected it to be a rough kiss, but it was anything but. His lips teased yours along with his tongue, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. It was demanding in the gentlest of ways.

It wasn't a rushed kiss either. It was thorough, slow, like he had nowhere else in the world to be. Did he have any idea of the spark he ignited within you? It was something hot, needy, out of control. Fire raced through your veins. You'd go up in flames if he kept kissing you like that. Like you meant something to him.

“I care about you, too,” he whispered. You inhaled sharply when he trailed kisses along your face. “I’ve liked you since we met.”

“You have?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I hoped you might feel the same, but I’m a bit rusty when it comes to this and I couldn't get a read on you when I mentioned the dating app. I figured this approach might be better.”

“Well,” you gasped when you felt something hard pressed against you. “It worked,” you said. You were glad he took the leap of faith.

“I’ll always remember the first time you smiled at me. I won't let anyone take that memory away from me,” he groaned against your skin, your eyes tearing up again. “And the way you stuck up for me… I don’t deserve you. I don't know if I ever will.”

“Don't say that,” you begged when he released your other wrist, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around him. “You deserve every bit of happiness.”

He smiled as his kisses moved down to your neck and you could only whimper when he licked and sucked over your pulse. “You're so caring. So good,” he said, rocking his hips forward. The sweet words combined with the sensual movements of his body fueled your desire. You also bit your lip to keep from bursting into tears from his praise. “And you're so beautiful, you know that? Inside and out.”

“You keep talking like that, I’ll keep crying,” you tried to joke.

He lifted his head to wipe another tear away. “Happy tears?”

“Very happy,” you promised, shifting underneath him and brushing his crotch again.

His mouth fell open as his eyes shut. It was one of the sexiest looks you had ever seen. “If you keep doing that, I’ll embarrass myself,” he said in a strained voice.

“Is that a bad thing?” you smiled innocently.

“Maybe not. I have a quick rebound rate if I do,” he teased, frowning when your smile slipped. “Shit, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“I’m fine. You didn’t say anything wrong,” you promised, touching his cheek. “I just… Am I dreaming?”

His lips touched yours again, You would’ve melted into the mat if you weren’t already underneath him. “You’re not dreaming,” he whispered. The groan he let out when you moved beneath him again reminded you that he really was settled between your legs. And hard. “I wanted to take you out on a nice date before I even touched you, but I don’t know if I can wait. You’re driving me crazy.”

Well, nothing had happened quite yet. Just a confession of feelings. And some kissing. And grinding.

“You’re driving me crazy, too, but if you want to stop, I understand,” you said. It didn't have to go further if he didn't want to, especially since it was fast.

His forehead touched yours. “Do you?”

You nearly shouted that you didn’t want him to stop, would never want him to stop, but this wasn’t just about you. “I don’t, but I get it if you do,” you said. You were kind of in a public place and consent went both ways. If he was the slightest bit uncomfortable, you were fine with stopping.

It seemed to be all he needed to hear since he kissed you again, eagerly licking into your mouth. Your heart was still racing out of control, the high from the exercise running through your veins. You wondered if he felt that adrenaline, too. If the confession of your feelings was the water against the dam, admitting that you wanted him physically, too, was the thing to break it.

“It’s just… I don’t…” He lifted his head to look around before he smiled. “Wait, hold on.”

He pushed himself up, your body cold from the sudden lack of heat. The tent he sported in his pants sent a surge of pride through you as he went as gracefully as he could to the door. Locking it, he went to his bag next and dug out a towel.

“What are you doing?” you asked when he came back quickly.

“Trying to be a gentleman,” he smiled, lifting your hips to place the towel underneath. “Sorry, the mat’s just kind of dirty and I think you deserve a little better than that.”

“You certainly are a gentleman,” you smiled back.

“The things I want to do to you are far from gentlemanly,” he said, reaching for the waistband of your pants and peeling them down with your underwear. You were sweaty and gross, but if he didn’t care, you wouldn’t either. “I wish I could lay you out and kiss every inch of your body.”

“Maybe after I shower,” you teased, both of you chuckling as you helped push his pants and underwear down. Once all was said and done the two of you could talk and figure out a date and him properly taking you to bed, but having him take you then and there was perfect. “Oh…”

Words left your mind when you saw his hard and heavy cock. A bead of precum dripped from the head and you wished you could have a taste. There was a good chance he’d split you in half, but it would be worth feeling him for days on end.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, opening your legs more as an offering. You didn’t care if it made you look desperate for him, which you were. You just hoped it looked enticing.

With blown pupils and a small growl, he shook his head. It was enough to make you want to cry. “I need to stretch you first, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment made you smile even when you argued, “I don’t need you to stretch me. I can take it.”

He narrowed his eyes, but gave you a smile, too, as he brought his hand to your scorching heat. “We’re both desperate for this, but I’m going to stretch your pretty cunt to make room for my cock. Got it?”

Shivering at his tone, you nodded. “Yes, Sergeant,” you answered, biting your lip when you saw his cock twitch. “You really like me saying that, don't you?”

“Yes,” he groaned. You’d have to keep calling him that in and out of bed then.

He rubbed along your folds slowly, like he was memorizing the feel. Deep down, he was a gentleman. Badly wanting you, but making sure he wouldn’t hurt you. What more could you ask for?

“Can I confess something?” he asked gently as the first finger sank into you, gently exploring. Gasping at the welcomed intrusion, you nodded. He could say anything he wanted. “I've imagined you just like this,” he stated, pulling his finger out before pushing it in deeper.

“You have?” you asked before he pushed a second finger in, both of them curling slightly. It sent sparks of pleasure down your spine.

“It almost felt wrong because I hadn’t even asked you to go out with me, but I couldn’t help myself.” His voice was huskier as he pumped his fingers, your hand fisting in his shirt. You throbbed with need, a kind of need you couldn’t ever remember feeling. “I wondered what kind of sounds you’d make and how you’d feel around me if you ever let me have you.”

More heat pooled in your core as you spread your legs wider for him.

“Making such pretty sounds for me already. And your pussy, it feels like heaven. Might even make me see God once I have my cock in you.” He glanced down to watch his fingers slide in and out of your tight passage, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Fuck, you’re so warm. And tight. And wet,” he continued, an almost cocky smile on his face when his thumb swiped over your clit and drew a small whimper from you. "Guess I haven’t completely lost my touch.”

“That is both hot and…” you had to pause when he added a third finger, making you stretch around the digits. He was going to be the death of you. “Is it bad if I’m a little jealous because I don’t want to think about you touching anyone else?”

Something sparked in his pretty blue eyes. “Does my girl have a jealous streak?” He slid a fourth finger in, your back arching with a small cry. “I’m flattered, but you have nothing to worry about. You’re the only one I want.”

Your breaths were shallow from his touch alone, but the sweet words got under your skin. “You don’t have to worry about anyone else either,” you exhaled. He knew you weren’t seeing anyone, but you felt the need to assure him. “And I like that.”

“Like what?”

Your hand twisted in his shirt more. “The idea of being your girl,” you managed to answer, your body writhing as he moved his fingers in a beautifully torturous motion. “Enough, Bucky, please.”

“Enough what?”

“I’m stretched. I’m on the pill. Just… put your cock in me, please!” Panting by the end of your begging rant with mist in your eyes, you added, “Can I at least touch you if you won’t fuck me?”

The beautiful bastard had the nerve to laugh when he took his fingers out. “Kind and steadfast, even when you’re begging to get fucked,” he said, his eyes slipping shut for a second as he licked the first two fingers clean. “I promise you can touch me later if you let me get a proper taste of your sweet cunt.”

Your cheeks got so hot it shocked you that you didn’t catch on fire. “Yes, please,” you whispered, the promise of later making you quiver.

The room felt like it was spinning when he stared down at you and licked his fingers again. He kept his eyes on you when he wrapped them around his cock and guided it to your waiting hole. You tried to calm the beating of your heart when he slipped the blunt head in, but you were powerless to do anything but feel as he kept pushing in. You trembled and gripped his shoulders once his hips were flush against yours, throbbing around his thickness already when hadn't started thrusting.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he gasped, dropping his forehead to yours again as he trembled, too. “I need…” he breathed against your lips. “I just need a second, please.”

“Okay,” you whispered, wondering if he was as overwhelmed as you were. Maybe moreso. You weren’t sure exactly how long it had been for him. And being enhanced, you didn’t know if the sensations felt different or stronger. You just hoped he felt good. And happy.

His metal hand framed your cheek, so gentle in contrast to the damage he could do with it. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, tilting your head up to kiss him. “I can take it,” you promised. Your body had adjusted to his size and now you wanted him to move, to feel all of him.

He finally began to thrust, moaning against your lips. You lifted your hips, trying to take him in more. The hand on your face slid down your body before it moved to your hip, keeping you in place so you could feel him nice and deep. He pulled his cock out almost completely before he thrust back in, making you cry out as you quivered around him. You wanted to soak his cock, consume him the way he was consuming you.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised as you bit your lip. “No, lemme hear those pretty sounds. C’mon,” he said, changing his angle slightly so you moaned loudly. He moaned, too, as he kept thrusting. “There you go. So beautiful.”

You wanted to scream for him. You also wondered what it would feel like to have his hand around your throat or over your mouth to smother those very sounds if you ever snuck off during work to fool around. There were so many things you wanted to try with him.

“Bucky,” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders as he moved faster. Piercing pleasure built from your core and spread slowly throughout your body. You felt like you couldn’t breathe from how good it felt, how he felt.

The intensity in his turbulent eyes was similar to when he listened to you talk in the break room, but with much more heat. Had he looked at you like that all along? “Wanna mark you up one day. Let everyone see that you’re my girl,” he grunted, dragging his mouth from your face to your neck. He lightly bit down, smirking when you whined again. “Would you let me?”

“Yes,” you moaned, tilting your head to give him more access. You’d feel so proud to wear his mark. There wouldn’t be any shame if people saw or asked because you’d get to say you belonged to Bucky.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped, surging into you over and over, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls with your cries. “Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last.”

The term of endearment again. It had your heart clenching along with your pussy. “Neither am I,” you breathed, bringing his head back to yours. You framed his cheeks, ecstasy close to crashing over you. From the strain in his handsome face, he was on the edge, too. “Come with me? Mark me up inside?”

It was a question and not a demand because you wouldn’t demand anything from the man who somehow stole your heart.

Through the pleasure twisting his face, he smiled. “Come with me.”

The heightened pleasure crashing over you was powerful enough that you almost screamed, your walls spasming around him. Shudders wracked your body as your breath ceased, trying to hold his gaze as the heat engulfed you. Your release coated him, just like you wanted it to. And it was only a few more thrusts from him before he tipped over the edge, filling you up in return. You both marked each other in the best possible way.

You laid limp beneath him, both of you panting. Your slick, wet heat still burned around him as released your hips and pushed himself up, a bead of sweat from his skin dripping onto yours. You gazed at each other, something tender passing between you. You wished the moment didn't have to end.

He leaned back down to nuzzle your nose and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly at the affectionate move. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, still dazed. “You?”

“Better than okay,” he said, smiling when you tucked some of his hair back. He looked good like this.

“I don't think I can move,” you teased.

“We have to, sadly,” he sighed, sliding himself from the warmth of your body. You whined at the loss, your hole clenching around nothing as your mixed release seeped onto the towel beneath you. “I know, but in case the next group that uses this room gets here early, I don’t want them to see you with your pants down,” he told you as he sat back and looked over you. You took a moment to look over him as well, getting a glance at his glorious thighs. You longed for the chance for you both to truly explore each other’s bodies. “And we could both use a shower.”

You inhaled when he used the clean part of the towel to gently wipe you both down. “Mmm. Together?”

He chuckled, helping you pull your underwear and pants back up. His hands lingered on your hips and you were two seconds from shoving the fabric back down. “If I get you in the shower, we won’t make it to work on time.”

“I don’t mind being late.” You tried to lift your arms to help him pull up his pants, too, but he beat you to it. It was a shame he had to cover up. “Or we could call in? I still have a lot of days off to use.”

“Yeah? You want to call in?”

“Yeah,” you said eagerly. Too eagerly. “Maybe?”

You almost shrank in on yourself when he raised an eyebrow. He told you he cared about you and he sure as hell just fucked you like he craved you, but you didn’t want to come across as clingy, especially so soon. The two of you still needed to figure things out.

And what if the things said were just from the heat of the moment? You weren't sure if your heart could take it if he walked away without another thought. He wouldn't do that though, right?

His gaze softened, helping you sit up, his face inches from yours as he rubbed your arms. “Hey. What’s the matter?” he asked, your heart in your throat when he smiled again. “Was I that bad?”

“No, not at all. You were amazing, holy shit, and telling you how I feel was long overdue,” you promised, his smile softer. “It’s just…”

His brows pinched. “It’s just what?”

You took a breath. “I've wanted to hear for so long that you had feelings for me, too. And now that it’s really sinking in, I guess I still feel like I’m dreaming a bit. That none of this happened,” you admitted, placing your hand on his chest. His heart was still beating fast, like yours. “That tomorrow I’ll just go back to being the girl who has a crush on you and nothing more.”

“What?” His face slowly fell. Why did you open your mouth? “No, that's not going to happen.”

“We just went from work friends to whatever just transpired, and I don’t want it to be too much or too fast for you or for you to regret this,” you blurted out, biting your lip hard. “I don't want to be too much for you,” you added in a whisper. Your insecurity surfaced more as the post-sex haze faded and you wished it hadn't. “I’m sorry. I don't know why I’m ruining the moment.”

It was stupid. Where had your optimism gone? He told you he cared about you. He gazed at you like you meant something to him. It was everything you wanted, so why were you questioning it?

“You didn't ruin anything.”

“Are you sure?” you asked softly.

Bucky placed his hand over yours, the other going to the back of your head so you couldn't move away. “I’m sure, now listen to me: Whatever is going on between us isn’t too much and you are not too much. You are never too much,” he said with fierceness akin to a growling wolf. “I want you and I want to be with you. I wouldn’t joke about that,” he assured you, your lips tugging in a small smile. “I get feeling like it's a dream, believe me, but it isn't. It's real and what just happened was real.”

Hearing him declare his feelings again made your heart soar. “I know you wouldn’t joke about that,” you said. He wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t toy with your feelings like that. “I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

“I do and I am happy,” he said, his eyes full of longing. He experienced so much pain and loss and deserved happiness. “I’ve lost so much of my life, so much time, and I don't want to waste another second. So believe me when I say I want you to be my girl.”

A sob threatened to work its way up. “Oh, Bucky,” you whispered, your head dipping down before he lifted it back up.

“That connection you’ve talked about wanting, I feel that with you. I trust you. That’s why I’ve been able to open up to you. The person who made me coffee and offered me kindness and understanding and just let me be me,” he said, making you smile more. You wished you could wrap each word around your heart. “I want to hold your hand in the break room and kiss you in the halls. I want you today and I’ll want you tomorrow and the day after that. And the only thing I regret from any of this is not asking you to be my girl sooner.”

His words, his stare, his touch, they healed the senseless wound your insecurity put on your heart. “I’m yours.” You surged forward, your lips crashing against his. He sighed before he returned the kiss, likely feeling the same relief you had. You wished you could put into words how much his assurance meant, but you hoped your kiss expressed it. “Thank you for both coaxing my feelings out of me and assuring me that you want this.”

“Anytime.” He brushed another kiss across your lips. “You know how you said you hoped the next person who dated me knew how lucky they were?” he asked. You remembered. “I'm the lucky one because you’re taking a chance on me.”

“You’re a smooth talker.” You had no clue how you kept the tears at bay. It meant everything that he wanted to be with you. “I think we’re both lucky.”

He smiled at that. “Yeah, but I still don’t deserve you,” he whispered, kissing you again before you could argue that he was more than worthy. “So, you want to spend the day with me?”

“Yeah, I do. We can go on a day date or just talk some more at my place or yours,” you answered, not feeling the need to hide anymore. “That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“Sweetheart, you just let me fuck you on a sparring mat. You can ask me for anything you want,” he smirked, catching your face between his hands. “But this day date doesn’t count as the nice date I want to take you on. My girl deserves something special.”

Your heart tightened in your chest, your emotions starting to run high again before you took a calming breath. “Then how about after that shower we call in, go to a cafe, get a cup of coffee, and figure out that date together? Maybe I’ll even convince you that you do deserve me.”

He huffed, taking your hands and helping you both up. You’d never be able to look at a pair of sweatpants again without thinking of what transpired there. “Okay, but I’m warning you right now that I probably won’t like the coffee.”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t make it,” he smiled. “Maybe we can check out that science exhibit you mentioned.”

You giggled. He remembered. “That would be nice,” you said, leaning close when he slipped his arm around you and guided you toward your bag. “You know, I can make more than just coffee. Just say the word and I’ll cook for you,” you said. You’d love to cook him a nice meal.

“Word,” he deadpanned.

You giggled again. “Later,” you promised. You’d make him something special. “Do you think Alpine will like me?”

“She’ll love you,” he promised, giving you a sheepish smile. “I told her all about you. And I think the last few dinners with Steve and Sam all I talked about was you.”

“You told your cat about me? You're adorable,” you smiled. It was really sweet. “And… Will Steve and Sam be happy?” They were his friends and you hoped they approved.

“Steve will be thrilled.” He huffed again. “But Sam’s opinion doesn't matter. Fuck him.”

With a teasing smile, you asked, “Wait, I thought I was supposed to give Sam a talking to. Are you offering for me to fuck him?” You shrieked when he growled and picked you up, placing you over his shoulder. “Bucky!”

“You’re not fucking anyone but me. You’re my girl and I’ll mark you up to prove it if I have to,” he said, keeping a firm hand on you as he carried you away. “But for now, let’s shower before we call in.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Bucky didn’t have to prove anything. He had you in a chokehold from the start and always would. And you were proud to finally be his girl.

Woohoo! You made it! I like to think this reader has bits of Smartie and Mrs. Barnes, and she deserves her man! I know these two will have wonderful times ahead! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[little-miss-apple]

jealous hard hot steamy rough sex??? 😫😫😫😫

((oh hell yeah! obvious CW// for jealous and rough sex. probably lots of mistakes bc it's almost 4am and I did not reread to check so bear with me.. also did not do the fancy coloured words for now bc its a pain in the butt... also this takes place at a time where they are aware of their own and eachothers feelings but arent "exclusive" yet, just to clarify))

It is no secret that you love getting a rise out of Caleb. It's not often that you get to see his carefully curated persona crack. Even when he's upset, he's not one to raise his voice against you.

But today you did it. You made him loose his temper. And now he's dragging you back home by your wrist, refusing to let you go.

It had started a few days ago when ran into an old college friend in Skyhaven. Jeremy and you couldn't hang out that often back then due to conflicting schedules, but now he had a few days of work and you were taking a holiday in Skyhaven anyway.

Jeremy had always been a bit wilder than most, enjoying parties every week, getting drunk on school nights and violating campus rules from time to time. Nothing changed, Jeremy was still the same guy he was back then, just with a big boy job now.

Caleb felt a bit off when he first met him, maybe it was his possible bad influence or maybe how comfortable he was touching you right in front of him. But you seemed to allow it and he didn't want to start a fight with a stranger in front of you.

His annoyance kept growing everytime you got a message and would giggle, engrossed in the conversation on your phone.

"who's that, pipsqueak?"

"oh.. just Jeremy!"

"what did he say?"

"nothing.. nothing..." you'd dismiss him, still giggling.

His emotions boiled over when he came home late at night one day, finding nothing but a note on the kitchen table.

'out with Jeremy, will be back by 12am :)'

It was already well past 2 A.M. and you weren't picking up your phone. Frustrated he opens his tracking app as a last resort. He had told himself not to use it unless it was absolutely necessary, but right now felt more than necessary.

He is still in uniform when he stalks into the club. Some people give him weird looks, but he can't be bothered to care. All he cares about is finding you and getting you out of here.

Thankful for his convenient height, he looks over people's heads until he finds you on the dance floor, Jeremy's body practically glued to yours as you dance under the flickering neon lights.

Suddenly you're snatched away by your arm. Dragged outside the club by a familiar figure. The bouncers, who Caleb had threatened earlier when they didn't want to let him in initially, shamefully look away, tails between their legs.

"Get in." are the first words he speaks the second you get to the car. There is no room for discussion as he basically forces you into the car with the use of his evol before making his way over to the drivers side.

He doesn't say a word as he starts the car and speeds off. Luckily the roads are empty because even you feel a bit nervous at his current speed, but deep down you know he would never put you in danger.

The ride home is quiet, a thick and obvious tension in the air and even if you're a little tipsy, you know now isn't the time to start a fight.

When you arrive at his apartment, he doesn't waste time. And now he's dragging you back home by your wrist, refusing to let you go.

"you're being too rough..." you mutter once inside. He looks at you with angered, darkened eyes, brows furrowed. Yet he let's out a sigh and loosens his grip. He doesn't want to hurt you, he can't.

"Don't go out with him again. Matter of fact, give me you phone. I will block him for you."

"what? no... i don't wanna."

"He is clearly a bad influence, you can't hang out with him again!"

"You don't get to choose that for me, Caleb!" you argue back.

He let's out a deep sigh, closing his eyes as he tries to suppress his emotions by himself, not wanting that damned chip to take over.

He steadies himself, his tone calmer and more composed.

"He was all over you, he was touching you in ways he shouldn't, I don't want you to see him again."

"...or what?"

That's it. You've done it now.

Before you even realise what has happened, you are slung over his shoulder as he stalks into his room and throws you on his bed, hoping you don't notice the way he softens your landing with his evol.

"Your safe word is apple. I don't plan on being soft or gentle, so use it when you need it." he says as he practically rips of his uniform until he's wearing nothing but his pants.

He reaches down, untying the ribbons of your lace up heels as he mutters some some words in frustration.

"You're always defying me lately. I'm trying to take care of you, I'm trying to make you as comfortable as possible and hold myself back... yet you're out there grinding on some guy I don't even know... it's pissing me off!"

You scoff. He's pouring his heart out and you fucking scoff.

He pushes you back down to the bed and yanks down the top of your strapless party dress. He hovers over your exposed breasts, hunger evident in his eyes before he surges down, capturing one of your nipples between his lips, sucking and licking the bud while his hand kneads your other breast.

You feel the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair but your hands are held above your head by his gravity evol.

He switches nipples, making sure both get equal attention. He loves the sound of your moans, the way you wither under him and desperately try to rub your thighs together.

He detaches his mouth from you breast, instead leaving marks all around the area. Light bites and purple marks are forming as he ravishes your skin, fondly looking at the art he's leaving behind.

"will he still touch you if my marks are all over your skin?"

He gets up, standing between your legs as he allows you to sit up. You're eye to eye with the tent in his pants. He pulls down the zipper, eyes never leaving your nervous ones.

"Suck." he commands when he fully pulls out his thick and hard member, his veins throbbing at the sight of you, his tip a muted pink and leaking precum. "If it's too much, tap my thigh."

Though as caring as ever, he leaves no room for objection as he slides his cock into your mouth. But you're struggling, mouth dry from the alcoholic drink you had earlier.

His thumb and pointer finger hold your soft cheeks as he leans down and tells you; "open up." You obey but are taken aback when he spits in you mouth, helping you lubricate before shoving his throbbing cock back into your mouth.

He gently fucks into you, hand on the back of your head as you can't help but gag a bit. But you don't tap out. Instead you feel yourself growing wetter at the lewd sounds leaving his lips and the way his face contours in pleasure as swirl your tongue over and around his member.

He looks down into your pleading eyes. It's clear you want to make him feel good and for a moment he debates on cumming in your mouth, making you swallow his seed, but he decides against it.

"Can't waste a drop when your pretty pussy hasn't even been touched yet..." he mumbles to himself more than to you.

You're pushed back down on the bed as Caleb now fully tug down you dress, leaving you in nothing but your black, lace panties with a little pink bow in the front. He lifts your legs over a shoulder as he slowly slides the off, revealing your wet hole ready for him.

He spreads your legs, after not so subtly slipping your panties into his back pocket for later, and enjoys the view of you practically leaking onto his sheets. Embarrassed by how exposed you are and how hungrily he's staring at your entrance, you try to cover yourself with your hands, but they are quickly restrained by his evol again.

"Nuh-uh... I can look at what's mine all I want..." he growls.

He puts your legs on either sides of his head, resting them on his strong shoulders as he takes his cock and slides it along your wet folds in a teasing manner. A shaky moan leaves your lips and it makes him feral.

No longer having the patience to tease you, he stretches you out with his thick cock, not stopping until he bottoms out fully. You're already clenching around him, trying to adjust to his big size.

"fuck... you feel so good, sweetheart..." he says as he slides out and slams back in. You squeal when his balls hit you, over and over again.

"He could never make you feel like this... only I can! this pussy was made for me, you know that right, pretty girl?" he grunts as his pace increases. you mumble an unintelligible agreement as he pushes you legs to you chest, hitting angles you didn't even know were possible.

You feel a strange warmth bubbling in the pit of you stomach. Your whole buddy begins to tingle from the tips of your toes up to the top of your head. You clench around his length as you come hard, spitting out mumbles that resemble his name.

He rides out your orgasm, not pulling out until your stuttering clenches have stopped.

You're about to close your eyes when you are suddenly turned around, on your hands and knees before he pulls your upper body against him.

"You thought I was done with you? after what you've been putting me through these past few days?" He scoffs as he aligns himself with your entrance again, one of his muscular arms snaking around you neck, keeping your face nestled between his muscles.

"I'm far from done... Gonna make sure your pussy is shaped like my cock, so no one else will ever feel as good and filling as I do. Gonna make you cum so hard, all you'll remember is my name and how good I make you feel. Gonna fuck you so good, you're legs will be like jelly so you can't run away from me..." His free arm sneaks around your waist as his fingers find their way to your clit.

He pushes in again. Your thighs are already weak, but the way he has trapped you makes it impossible to to escape your position and all you can do is hold on to his muscular arm. He smoothly falls into a quick and ruthless pace.

If your brains weren't getting fucked out right this moment, you'd probably think about how grateful you are Caleb doesn't have any neighbours, because the ungodly sounds you're making are loud. Moans, groans, curses, mumbles and eachothers names echoe through the room.

He's rough but it feels so good and the way his calloused fingers rub your clit is making you see stars.

"C-caleb! Gonna.. gonna cum!" you say as you feel that familiar feeling spread through your limbs again.

"Go ahead, baby... Cum on my cock, yeah? want your juices dripping all over it... want you to say my name, tell me you're mine alone..." his strained voice reveals he's not far from cumming himself.

The heat and tingles spread all throughout your body, even harder than the first time.

"I'm yours, Caleb! Only yours... oh my gosh... All yours, Caleb-!" the words leave your lips like a chant before turning into a mumbled mess as you cum again. You're clenching onto him so hard, sucking him in in a way that milks his own orgasm out of him.

You feel your juices mixing inside of you as he fucks both of you through it. The room is spinning and specs of light blur your vision. Your body goes limp in his embrace, but he doesn't let you down until he completely emptied himself inside you.

When he has nothing left to give, he pulls out with a plop. He gently lays you down on his pillow. Your brain is mush and you struggle to conjure up any real words. Caleb laughs softly as he shushes you; "it's okay pipsqueak, I gotcha'.. just lay down for now, okay? I'll get you some water and clean you up, yeah?"

He takes care of you as diligently as ever, wiping you down with a warm, wet towel, bringing you a glass of water and making sure you're okay before sliding into the bed next to you. He pulls you into his chest, gently stroking your hair as you listen to his calming heart beat.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

"no... just a bit weak and sleepy..."

He let's out a soft, relieved laugh.

"'m sorry if I was rough.. just wanted to remind you you're mine..."

"did you ever doubt that?"

He is quiet for a moment.

"no... but I didn't like seeing that guy so close to you, touching you like that... he enjoyed it way too much..."

You snort.

"I doubt you'll have to worry about that... I'm not exactly his type."

"How could you not be? have you seen you-"

"He's not into girls, Caleb..."

There's a moment of silence.

"...oh."

You laugh as the realisation hits.

"besides.. even if he was, it wouldn't matter... because I'm yours, only yours..." you whisper as your eyes close and you drift into a soft slumber in your lovers arms.

"yeah, you are..." He says as he kisses your forehead. "...and I am yours."

03:11 A.M.

Jeremy: are u okay? he seemed really mad...

Jeremy: I just wanted to scare away that creep but seems I caught two flies with one stone lmao

Jeremy: u better tell me everything over coffee tomorrow ;)

[midnightshindig]

Hey👀👀 could we get some first kiss rex hc that are just emotional as hell?? Not necessarily angsty hes just feeling feelings😞🙏

Rex Splode x Reader: First Kiss

ughhhh i'm not over rex

also what the HELL Rudy

gonna deadname him forever sorry guys, not a biggot just a hater </3

hcs under the cut!

Rex is a nervous bitch

he hasnt really had a first kiss he's cared that much about since he was fourteen with Eve

and even then he was fourteen so he didn't really know how big of a deal it was

BUT this is post-lobotomy Rex

and he really likes you

and he can't mess this up

he can't "Rex it up" as Amanda lovingly put it when he begged her for help

"Pleaaase Amanda- you're a woman- kinda- you know about this romance junk!" he pressed his palms into prayer and knelt at her, shuffling towards her comedically as she rolled her eyes

"First-!" she shoved a pointed finger into his face "Don't call romance 'junk', it's annoying."

Amanda sighed a long, heavy sigh, and pinched her temple

"And two, I'm calling in reinforcements."

two hours later Rex is in his room with Mark, Eve, William, Amanda, and Rudy all piled in

Rex isn't sure why William OR Rudy are there, but he figures more the merrier

"ooookay." William starts, leaning onto his propped up knee "You've been seeing this person for how long?"

Rex swallowed his spit nervously "uhm... we've been like talking and going on dates and shit for a few weeks- uhhh..." he starts counting on his fingers before Rudy cuts him off

"Rex and Y/n have been mutually exclusive for two months and three days."

Eve's jaw goes slack "Two months?! Rex what the hell?" her scolding is teasing yet bewildered, a playful hand gesturing from its place around Mark's shoulder "Just kiss them already, why are you being a wuss?"

Rex buries his head in his hands, overwhelmed by the overlapping conversation and criticism as the room erupts into dialogue

"I JUST-" he calls out, quieting the room

"I want to make it memorable. And... special."

His face is on fire

he's blushing so hard it hurts

Okay now they HAVE to help him figure this out

so three hours of brainstorming and meticulous planning-- some light lunch and snacking-- later, Rex has a game plan

Everyone shuffles out of his room as quietly as they can, except for Eve, who tells Mark she'll catch up in just a minute

The door closes them into the same space, alone

"Oh, uh... what's up, Eve?" Rex's shoulders tensed as he took in Eve's serious expression and folded arms

She broke out in a small smile "Do you really like this person, Rex? Like you're not going to cheat and be a dick?"

He nodded a small, but intentional nod. Intimidated as fuck by his ex-girlfriend.

She responded by rushing forward and pulling him into a bone crushing hug

"oOoooo I'm so excited for you" she pulled him closer, as he slowly wrapped his arms around her in return

"Ha- Thanks, Eve. I appreciate it."

Eve pulled back and stared into his eyes intensely "Don't freak out, just be yourself, okay? I'm so happy for you, Rex."

As they separated and Eve made her way out, Rex flopped back onto his bed

He'd just received the blessing of his only true friend, this couldn't possibly go wrong.

A few days later, and you're reading in your room

a slip of paper came under the door

"Hm?" you set your book down and went to retrieve it

It was a crude drawing of the two of you-- yourself and Rex-- in the mountains?

It was hard to tell

he was not a good artist.

Regardless, you opened the door to find another piece of paper

and another

and another

all littered with doodle of the two of you, tracing through the GotG HQ to the "back door" so to speak

"Rex?" You inquired cautiously, fearful it may be a trap

"Hey!"

you flung around and caught Rex's nose in a high kick, before realizing your mistake and covering your mouth in surprise

"Ah!! Rex!! fuck- I'm so sorry!"

Rex hit the snowy floor like a crumbled piece of paper, holding his bruised nose and trying to shake it off

"iiiii'm good! I'm fine! Wuh-uhh... fuuuuck." He steadied himself by leaning onto you a little, wrapping an arm around you

You assessed the situation, thankfully not having broken his nose

"Oh Rex, I'm so sorry... and after all your hard work with those drawings.... is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can kiss it better."

The silence was thick with romantic tension, and you stared at him wide eyed while he stared back in abject horror-- at himself, not you

"No-NO! FUck- this wasn't- Ugh! Stupid- Stupid0" he groaned, sitting in the snow and leaning against the GHQ

You looked down at him, confused

He just held his bruised face in his hands "That's not how it was supposed to go."

Carefully, you sat next to him in the thick, powdery snow.

"How what was supposed to go?" you placed a loving hand on his upper arm

Rex leaned into your touch, eventually leaning his head onto your shoulder "I wanted to say all this shit about how much you mean to me- and how much of a better person I want to be for you, and all this stuff..." he pulled out snow-soggied crumpled notecards, passing the ball of paper to you as you deciphered key phrases and bullet points

He sighed again, nuzzling into your shoulder "Iwanted our firstkiss tobe special, yknow?" he looked up at you with the saddest eyes, obviously welling with tears "You deserve that much."

Now it was your turn to blush so hard it hurt

or maybe it was the cold.

"R-Rex- I don't... I mean..."

the longer you trailed off the louder the thumping in Rex's chest got

eventually, though, you spit it out

With a warm affect "Rex, you're so perfect."

and you leaned down, kissing his lips gently

He reacted swiftly, bringing his hand to your cheek, warmth bringing solace and comfort to the bitter cold threatening to permeate your layers the longer the two of you sat in the snow.

The kiss lasted what felt like forever

but in reality it was maybe three minutes

You noticed Rex opening and closing his eyes, to check if you were still there

When you finally had to part lips, Rex sifted himself up to be level with you, allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull your head to his chest

"I really like you, Y/n. And I want to be a good guy for you."

"You are a good guy, you're the best guy I could ask for."

"No. I'm not. But don't worry, babe." his humorous tone crept back into the serious situation, easing the tension a little

"I'm going to be."

[be-xkyy]

𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑉𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒

Warning: sexual content (mentioned), forced transformation, murder (mentioned), isolation, child abduction, blood, violence.

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★ @minshookie29 ★ @rosey1981 ★ @thejadevvitch ★ @jellystar-star ★

Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★

Son name: Alexandre

Husband name: Louis

Yandere Vampire who doesn't understand why you're so cold toward him; yes, maybe he killed all your friends and locked you in his castle, but he only did it because it was necessary.

Yandere Vampire who thinks you're being overly dramatic; he's already made up for his mistakes, turning you into a vampire, HIS mate, HIS wife, HIS duchess. Don't you see that he did the best for you by freeing you from your pathetic mortality? He gave you the greatest gift of all: eternal life.

Yandere Vampire who, despite his best attempts to make you happy, you're always melancholic. He gives you precious jewels that are over a century old. He makes sure his servants take care of everything and follow your every command so you don't have to lift a finger. He makes passionate love to you every night, giving you so many orgasms and love that in the end, you can't even form a coherent word. So why aren't you happy?

Yandere Vampire who after a long time decides to stop trying to figure out what you need to be happy and asks you directly (which is what he should have done from the start). One night, when you're both in your shared chambers, he decides to ask you the blessed question.

“I see that during these long months, my hard work to bring you happiness and joy has been a complete failure, so tell me, my dear, what do you need to be happy?”

“I want to be free. I no longer want to be confined within the walls of this castle. I don't want to be with you.”

“...”

Yandere Vampire who falls silent upon hearing your cold response; it almost seems as if your words didn't affect him, but his red eyes, which seem to glow, betray his anger. That, coupled with the lover/creator bond that unites your souls and betrays his anger, which seems to burn your body from the inside with a blazing fire, makes you shudder.

Yandere Vampire who decides to be merciful and forget this conversation, but not before threatening you. He approaches you, grabbing your jaw firmly. His elegant, ringed fingers grip your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes, which shine with a burning and terrifying fury.

“Never, EVER say something like that again, my dear, or I'll show you what it means to truly feel miserable and unhappy.”

Yandere Vampire who becomes more distinct and rougher in the months following your small talk. He makes love to you more roughly, leaving your body aching and your neck and chest covered in bites and love marks. In retaliation, you leave his pale back covered in deep, bloody scratches (which only feed his ego).

Yandere Vampire who one day while looking for his next dinner date in a nearby town sees a smiling happy woman in a house who reminds him of you when he first met you. She's sitting in front of the fire in the fireplace, which illuminates her with a yellow and golden glow; she's cooing to a baby who's laughing and gurgling happily; a light bulb goes on in his head when he sees this scene. Maybe that's what you need to be happy, a baby. Little brats always bring joy and happiness, right? Maybe you two can't have a baby biologically, but he can take someone else's baby... right?

Yandere Vampire who decides to take matters into his own hands. He sneaks inside the house, ignoring the pain in his throat and yearning to suck the woman's blood dry. After all, he can't alert the town of his presence (there are already many suspicions of vampires in the area). So, he decides to be subtle and snaps the woman's neck, which he does. He sneaks up behind her when she notices his presence; it's too late. He hears the woman's heart race as he grabs her jaw from behind and twists her head with an ugly "crack." The woman's heartbeat stops, and her body goes limp.

Yandere vampire who drops the woman's body to the ground and focuses all his attention on the baby lying on the floor on a worn, old floral blanket. The baby's lower lip trembles as if he can understand the cruel fate of his only parent. His eyes water, and high-pitched sobs soon follow.

“Waah-Waah!!!”

“Hey brat, don't cry. You have no idea what a favor I'm doing you! Now you'll have a beautiful and loving new mother. No more old or worn-out blankets, just the finest clothes and silks for you.”

Yandere Vampire who takes the child in his arms, rocking him a little, but he doesn't stop crying; on the contrary, he cries even more. Frustrated, he covers the baby's mouth, slightly muffling his sobs, and slips out of the house, quickly heading for his castle.

Yandere Vampire who enters the castle through the extensive gardens filled with red roses. He ignores the curious servants who stare at him curiously as he enters with the sobbing baby in his arms and, without wasting any time, heads to his chambers, where he knows for sure you'll be. He pushes open the wooden door and enters. Your eyes immediately look at him, or rather, at the child in his arms.

“My dear! Look at the gift I brought you.”

“From where? Where are his parents?”

“The mother is dead, and there was no sign of the father anywhere, so now he's all yours!”

Yandere Vampire who smiles proudly when you approach and take the baby from his arms. His eyes soften when he sees you cooing at the baby, gently rocking him in your arms, and the child soon calms down. You head to the bed, placing the baby on the soft silk sheets, protecting him from the cold. He can't help but notice the child's resemblance to you, but he snaps out of his thoughts when he hears your annoyed voice.

“You carried him all over the frozen forest in just pajamas? A baby is very delicate and could get seriously ill, you stupid man.”

“I didn't think of that at the time, my dear. I just thought of bringing him to you, and now he's here with you. That's better than nothing, right?”

Yandere Vampire who happily notices how you become someone much more energetic and happy since the arrival of the baby; although he won't deny that he's a little jealous of the fact that you spend more time with the baby (whom you named Alexandre) than with him; you take Alexandre for walks in the garden, you bathe him, you dress him and you even read to him to put him to sleep; the baby quickly became very attached to you.

“Mother! Mother, look at this!”

“I'm seeing you, my love.”

Your voice comes out lovingly as you look at the now five-year-old boy running through the rosebushes adored with vibrant red roses. You walk slowly, following your little boy. Louis, your husband, walks beside you. Your arm is intertwined with his, though you ignore him most of the time. But that doesn't make him talk any less.

“He grew up so fast, don't you think? I remember when I brought him here, and he was just a baby.”

“I remember.”

“I honestly didn't expect him to make it past the week, you know, given the fact that he was cold and malnourished, but your love seems to be able to cure anything, my dear.”

“...”

Your red eyes glare at him in annoyance, and he just smiles, revealing his white teeth and sharp fangs. You want to wipe that smile off your face and slap him for saying something so out of place, but you hold back as Alexandre runs up to you both.

“Mother! Father! I want to see the roses up close! Lift me up, father!”

“Yes, sir! As Your Highness commands!”

You can't help but let out a laugh as your son reaches out for his father, bouncing slightly before Louis finally picks him up and places him on his hip. Alexandre stares at the roses (which he's seen a million times before) with fascination before pouting.

“Roses have the same color as her eyes! I want my eyes to be red too, father!”

“I think your eyes are beautiful—”

“Don't worry, my son, soon your eyes will be red too.”

“Louis—!”

“Really, Father?! I'm so happy my eyes will be like yours and my mother!”

~~~

“Have you lost your mind?! Why are you telling my son he'll also have red eyes?! He's not going to turn into a vampire!”

You yell in annoyance as you pace around your chambers, your furious eyes glaring at him accusingly as he lies in bed, propped up against the pillows. He smiles at you with a shrug before getting up from the bed and walking over to you.

“Why not? I mean, our son could live forever as a five-year-old. Is that really so bad, my dear?”

“That's selfish! You killed his parents, forced him to live confined here in this castle, and now you also want to force him to be five forever?! You are truly a horrible man!”

“His mother.”

“What...?”

“I killed his mother. I already told you there was no father anywhere, and I confined him here because it's safer for him... besides, I know the idea of ​​him being five forever doesn't bother you, my dear.”

“That's not true—!”

“Oh, you can deny it all you want, but I can feel in our bond that you don't mind the idea at all. It almost seems like you'd like him to be your baby forever... so tell me, my dear, who is the really horrible person here, huh?”

You don't know how to respond, because it's true, everything he says is true. You don't want your son to grow up and leave here, leaving you with the pain and agony of your lost life tormenting your soul again. Just thinking about it sends a feeling of pain to your dead heart. Even though you hate yourself for being so selfish, you can't deny what he's saying, so you duck your head and remain silent.

He lets out a playful laugh, moving closer to you. He runs his ringed hands down the front of your dress's corset, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers. His hands slide back, playing with the laces of the corset, untying the knot and loosening the bodice. He rubs his nose against your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses up to your ear. You shudder when his cold breath hits your skin. He murmurs playfully against your ear.

“Don't be ashamed, my dear. After all, being selfish is in our blood. Just let yourself go~”

[aphroditelovesu]

Poison - Aftermath

❝commission: an 'aftermath' type one shot. In part, I'd like to see what happens right after Alexander joins and Y/n in their room. I'd also be curious to see how Roxanna's father would handle the fallout of the attempted poisoning. Idk, I find the idea of an ambitious man like Oxyartes scrambling to cover his ass funny. — requested by 💻 anon.

❝ 📜 — lady l: oh, I confess I enjoyed writing this. If you pay attention, there are slight spoilers for the future of TLQ! I felt bad for Roxanna, I won't lie. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! :))

❝tw: mild angst, mention of attempted murder, mention of injuries, and implied threat.

❝📜pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

❝word count: 1,303.

— poison (part one).

Your tent was quiet. The guards outside were silent, but you knew they were there.

Not that you complained. You knew their presence was to protect you, especially after what happened at the banquet today.

Roxanna had tried to poison you.

In a not-so-subtle way, and worse, in front of Alexander and the others. You knew she felt threatened, not only by you but by the babies you were carrying. Alexander didn't know yet that you were expecting twins, but still... She had threatened your life and the life of his child.

And that wouldn't go unpunished.

You heard Roxanna's screams even in your tent and didn't want to think too much about what was happening. You knew she probably would be and was being whipped, since that was one of Alexander's favorite forms of punishment, but you didn't want to think about what that entailed.

It should have revolted you, made you furious and terrified, but... You didn't. You didn't feel bad about it, not when she threatened not only your life but the lives of your unborn children.

Maybe it was your maternal instincts kicking in, but you couldn't feel the slightest bit of guilt or empathy for Roxanna's situation.

She brought this on herself.

Sighing heavily, you sat down on the cot, knowing that you would have to wait until Alexander returned. He had always slept in your tent since your kidnapping and you hadn't complained. You had come to enjoy his company, even love him in your own way and having him by your side didn't bother you anymore.

After what seemed like hours, Alexander entered the tent, his steps heavy and his breathing irregularly, as if he had run a marathon.

"It's done." He said and sat down next to you, looking at your face as if searching for something. You could tell that he seemed worried that you were mad at him.

But you weren't. If it had been a few months ago, you would have been, but now...

"Good." Was the only thing you said and he seemed surprised.

"Aren't you mad?" Alexander asked slowly, taking your hand in his, squeezing it lightly.

"No." You sighed and squeezed his hand back, "Roxanna shouldn't have tried to poison me. She should have known it wouldn't work."

Alexander frowned, surprised and a little apathetic at your indifference. You had changed and he didn't know what to make of those changes.

Well, at least you weren't mad at him.

"I wanted to kill her." Alexander confessed, pulling you into a loving hug, your head pressed against his chest. "But I know that's not a viable option."

You hummed in agreement.

"You're the King but you know that killing your Queen isn't a good thing to do. Not... Not without a good reason." You mumbled.

"And her trying to murder you, our child, isn't that reason enough?" He pulled you away a little, looking at your face with confusion. "How are you not angry about this? You could have been killed!"

You could feel the panic, the fear of losing you in his words.

"She wouldn't have killed me. I'm not that stupid, Alexander. I know she doesn't like me but I don't think you should kill her." You said, kissing his cheek as a way to calm him down.

Alexander took a deep breath and took your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring all his fear and love into the kiss. And by the gods, he was scared.

You pulled away after a few seconds.

"And she's not my Queen." Alexander corrected you, your faces pressed together. "You're my Queen. My only Queen."

You smiled at his words, feeling your heart skip a beat in your chest. You knew you were falling in love, or maybe you were already in love with Alexander and didn't care. He was good for you, in his own way.

Alexander caressed your face and kissed your forehead, murmuring against it, "I guess you were wrong when you told me to marry her."

You bit your lower lip. "Give her time. She's still young."

"You're young too. We're young, (Y/N)." Alexander grumbled, hugging you again. He was shaking slightly and you couldn't tell if it was from anger or fear. Maybe both. "And even so, I never tried to kill my stepsibilings."

You laughed. "You didn't, maybe, but your mother did."

Alexander smiled for the first time since that situation. "Well... I can’t argue with that." He kissed you again gently.

"And I can take care of myself." You murmured against his lips. "Don’t worry. I won't let her or anyone else hurt me."

Alexander looked deep into your eyes and said, "If she tries to do anything to you again... I will kill her. I don't care if there are repercussions. I will do it slowly and without remorse. And I'll enjoy it.''

His gaze softened and you sighed. Maybe you should have been scared or worried, but all you felt was a rush of affection. Knowing that he was so in love with you, that he loved you so much, that he was willing to go against his own laws, his own morals, made you feel warm inside.

It made you feel loved.

"And I expect nothing less." You whispered and let him kiss you again, laying you down on the cot, his calloused but comforting hands caressing your round belly and your sides.

The lit torches cast a glow in the darkness of the tent that mingled with the moans and the sounds of your bodies moving against each other.

You were safe in his arms and that was all that mattered to Alexander. That was what he kept telling himself as he made love to you again and again.

Oxyartes was furious.

He just didn't know if it was with Alexander or with his own daughter. With her stupidity.

Oxyartes stared at his daughter's scarred back in horror. The marks, the scars that the lashes she received would leave, would mark her forever. Blood dripped from the wounds and Roxanna's grunts of pain made him shudder at the barbarity that had been committed against her.

Alexander did this. It was a punishment, a clear warning that any form of conspiracy, of disrespect against him, against (Y/N) and their unborn child, would not be tolerated.

"It hurts..." Roxanna whimpered as one of the servants carefully dabbed a damp cloth over the wounds.

Oxyartes crossed his arms, his dark eyes shining with uncontained hatred. It wasn't just toward Alexander, but toward his own daughter.

"What were you thinking when you decided to try to poison your husband's first wife so blatantly?" He growled each word, his hatred palpable. "Have I taught you nothing?!"

Roxanna's tears kept falling and he grew increasingly frustrated. Sure, he was upset that his daughter had been hurt, but he was more concerned about what this could mean for him, Bactria, and his people.

They had been spared, yes, but Alexander was a vengeful man and he could punish everyone for Roxanna's reckless actions.

There was no limit to what Alexander could do. Not when it came to (Y/N).

They needed to be careful.

Oxyartes dismissed the servants and helped Roxanna to her feet.

She trembled in her father’s arms and he touched her face, his touch gentle, a contrast to the anger that shone in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, father..." She whispered, her voice weak.

"It's okay, my little star," He said, caressing her cheek tenderly. "Everything will be fine."

But the way he was looking at her, his eyes so full of anger and disappointment, Roxanna knew that nothing would be fine. She had made a terrible mistake.

One that could cost her, them, everything. And he would have to discipline her properly.

[pinkolve]

Paging Doctor Y/N ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Summary: You find Eddie getting beat up by a group of jocks, of course you have to come to the rescue and save him.

Genre: Fluff, angst for like two seconds

CW: Fem!reader, reader carries a purse, reader has an unusual amount of things in said purse, second person point of view, mentions of fighting, blood, bruises, swearing, use of a taser, inaccurate descriptions of weed, (I don't smoke enough to know what the fuck I'm talking about), violence, reader drives a pickup truck, reader is a total bad ass because why not?, and I really hope that's it! Let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 1,095

A/N: My first time writing in a second person pov, I think it's much better this way, let me know what you think! I might start writing all future fics this way. (I also write the words 'purse' and 'bag' far too many times in this, my deepest apologies.)

You walk out of Hawkins High, the cool night air nipping your skin. You wrap your jacket further around yourself as the door clicks shut behind you.

“Fucking freak!” A voice yells from next to you. You turn your head but see nothing, but there are grunts and groans emanating from somewhere. You peek around the corner, finding a group of jocks beating up another, skinnier boy.

“Let go.” He tries to fight back but a harsh punch lands in his gut. You quickly reach in your purse, grabbing hold of the light pink taser. You keep your hand in your purse, grip firm.

“Hey.” You round the corner, putting yourself in their line of sight. “Let him go.” You don’t look at the boy, just the jocks, standing your ground. You needed to show them you weren’t afraid, leave them powerless.

“Just mind your business.” He turns to punch the boy again.

“Now!” You yell louder this time. He turns back to you, eyes wide, and a vein popping in his forehead.

“Yeah,” He lets go of the guys shirt, making him lose his balance. He walks towards you creepily, until he’s close enough to touch. “And what are you gonna do about it?” He smirks, not realizing what a mistake he’s made. You quickly pull the taser from your purse and stick it to his stomach, turning it on and shocking him. He blubbers and shakes before you turn it off, making him fall to his knees.

“Hey!” One of the other jocks marches up to you, ready to defend his friend’s honor. When he’s close enough his fist pulls back. You grab it before it can hit you, moving to the side and tasing him in the neck. You pull his arm forward, making him fall to the ground.

“Anyone else want some?” You ask venomously, waving your taser in the air. The rest of the group runs over to grab their friends, dragging them away. You shake your head as you watch them scamper off. “Pussies.” You spit, before finally turning to the poor guy they were torturing. He looks up at you as he leans his back against the brick wall, needing the stability.

“Eddie?!” You yell, shoving the taser back in your purse as you run to his side. “I didn’t realize it was you! I’m so sorry, are you okay?!” You run your hands all over him, eyeing him down for any wounds that need urgent tending to.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.” You look back up at his face, unconvinced. That’s when you notice a small, deep gash on his cheek.

“You have a cut right there, you aren’t fine.” You state, grabbing his forearm and pulling him along. You lead him to your beat up truck.

“It’s not a big deal!” He tries to laugh it off. You push him to sit on the cargo bed, throwing your bag next to him before you rummage through it.

“It is to me, now shut up so I can patch it up.” You say simply, pulling a first aid kit from your purse.

“You just have that in your purse?” Eddie speaks up, eyebrows furrowed. He moves to look inside, curious to find out what else you could possibly have in there.

“I have almost everything you could ever need. That’s why it’s so big, I pack it full of shit. I like to be prepared, and this whole situation proves it comes in handy.” You smile, pulling a small, travel size bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the kit.

“Got any weed in there?” Eddie laughs, expecting the answer to be ‘no’. You reach in and pull out a small metal tin with pre-rolled blunts. “Holy shit!” He grabs one and looks up at you, making sure it’s okay if he takes one. You set the tin down and grab a lighter, handing it to him, giving him wordless permission.

“My hero.” He sighs as he puffs out a cloud of smoke.

“Yeah yeah.” You roll your eyes playfully. “I’m gonna clean the cut now, it’s gonna sting.” You push the cotton pad to his cheek, making him hiss. You pull it down and away, wiping any blood off. “Sorry.” Your voice is soft and sincere. You grab some neosporin and place a glob on his cut, before sticking a small bandage over it. “Good as new.” You grin wide, admiring your handiwork. You reach in your bag once again, and pull out a cherry lollipop. Eddie’s eyes widen like little kid’s.

“Holy shit, candy too!?” He snatches it from you greedily.

“For being a good patient.” You giggle, packing up your things and throwing them back in your purse.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I owe you one.” He hops down from the truck and stands in front of you.

“Why’d they gang up on you anyways?” You ask, turning back to face him after throwing your bag over your shoulder.

“I’m not even really sure.” He laughs. “It doesn’t matter.” He waves you off.

“It does matter, Eddie.” You scowl at him, making his smile fade. “Stop acting like this is no big deal, because it is!” Your voice is raising slightly.

“Woah, woah, okay!” He raises his hands in surrender. He drops the blunt and puts it out with his boot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t upset me! It’s all these fucking assholes who think it’s okay to beat you up, just because they want to!” Your hands flail around a little, anger rising inside you.

“Hey, don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”

“I do worry about you!” You almost scream. “I always worry about you, how could I not?! The guy I love is getting beaten and bruised just for existing! It makes my blood fucking boil!” You go quiet, anger still present. You look back up at Eddie when he doesn’t say anything, his face ghostly pale. “What?” You ask softly. He swallows.

“You uh…You said you ‘love me.’” He swallows again, the lump in his throat still remaining. You still, body freezing in place.

“I, well…I mean I don’t, well I do, but I didn’t-”

“Did you mean it?” He cuts you off quickly. You look at him with confusion.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, Eds.” You whisper. Before you can say anything else, or even move, his lips are on yours. You let out a soft squeak of surprise before kissing him back. He pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips.

“I love you too.”

[cheshireliam]

Ring Schwartz 2nd Birthday Campaign: Story

Epilogue [His POV]

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

— March 2nd has arrived.

If I were to borrow Robin’s words, today is the day Nica and I were born “carrying hopes”. 

(... We’re probably trampling on that “hope” as we live our lives.)

(But if I don't do that, I—) 

…

Nica: … Apparently it's our birthday, but you’re making such a gloomy face. 

Ring: Nica… 

Nica: Happy birthday, Ring. 

Ring: Oh, yeah… happy birthday to you too, Nica. 

Ring: Right… this is for you. 

I handed Nica the present I had just gone to pick up. 

Nica: You got this for me? Can I open it here? 

Ring: Y-yeah… of course. I don’t know if you’re going to like it… but I’d be glad if you’ll make use of it. 

Nica: Let’s see what it is… oh, is this a coffee cup?

Ring: Personal tableware isn’t provided in the palace, so I thought it might be useful… 

I repeated the words Robin said to me, and Nica smiled.

Nica: That doesn’t sound like your usual way of thinking, but… whatever. 

Nica: Is this a drawing of birds on the cup? 

Ring: Yeah. I painted a pair of black swans representing us. 

Nica: Oh wow, you painted this yourself? Nice. 

Nica studied the coffee cup closely.

I spent a long time painting it, so it should've turned out decent… or at least that was what I thought.

Nica: You left Darius out, huh.

Ring: Ah, no, I… it just happened to turn out that way, I didn't mean to…! 

Ring: I only painted a single black swan at first.

Ring: But I messed it up halfway and made a black smudge next to it…

Ring: … So I thought “why not turn the smudge into a second swan?”

Nica: And you got some wise advice from Robin. 

Ring: … Did I tell you Robin helped me pick this present? 

Nica: Nah, I figured it out.

Nica: Not bad, Ring. You used my birthday present as an excuse to ask Robin out on a date. 

Nica: That aside, the shape of this cup doesn’t exactly look refined, it looks more like something commoner’s use. 

Nica: It doesn’t match my image at all…

Ring: Uhh…

Nica: … But that means I can use it without worrying about tarnishing it. Thanks. 

Nica touched the two swans on the cup while saying that. 

Nica: … I wish I could be like this too. 

Ring: Huh…? 

Nica: A swan that can freely fly anywhere with you. 

… The smile Nica wore at that moment still felt fake somehow. 

…

Afterwards… strangely, my legs brought me to Crown’s castle which stood within the palace's grounds. 

(Why did I walk all the way here…?)

(I don’t even have a reason to come here. It's not like I want to see her or anything…)

The last time I was at the castle, I ran into some of Crown’s members by chance and they called Robin for me. 

But today, it was already night time, so that wasn't going to happen. 

(... I should go back to the palace.)

I turned around and was about to leave, when— 

Kate: … Ring? What brings you here?

— A voice called out to me. 

Ring: Why are you here, Robin…?

Kate: I just got back from a mission. 

As if by the will of a divine entity, there she was, standing right before me.

I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn't seeing things. 

But no matter how hard I rubbed them or pinched my cheeks, Robin didn't disappear. 

Ring: I came because… I wanted to see you. 

When faced with such a miraculous coincidence, I said exactly what was on my mind without trying to cover anything up.

Kate: Huh…? 

As expected, Robin’s eyes wavered with confusion.

(Crap… did I creep her out!?) 

Her soft and desirable cheeks turned slightly red, but that was definitely because of the chilly night air. 

There was no way she’d blush because a man who's a potential enemy told her he “came because he wanted to see her”. 

(The emotion Robin is feeling right now is probably fear. I must explain myself before she gets the wrong idea…!) 

Ring: Ah, no…! That’s not it. You’ve misunderstood, I don’t mean it in a weird way!

Kate: O-okay… 

(I need to think of something… a decent reason for wanting to see her…)

My brain didn't work as fast as Darius’ or Nica’s, but it worked wonders in times of crisis. 

Ring: Y-you're the commander of “Operation Recover Nica’s Smile”.

Ring: That means I have a duty to report the results of our mission to you. 

Kate: I see… it makes sense now that you mention it. I’m curious about what happened with the present too. 

Robin nodded, seemingly convinced that my reason was the truth, and I secretly heaved a sigh of relief. 

Ring: … It was a success.

Ring: I may not have seen Nica’s genuine smile, but… he was happy to receive the present, so I think we could say we achieved our original goal. 

Kate: I see! I’m glad he liked it…!

Ring: It's all because you were the commander. … Thanks for helping me out.

Kate: Fufu, I didn’t do anything. I only went shopping with you for a bit. 

Ring: That’s not true. I think Nica will really make use of the present I gave him this time…

Ring: Had it been just me thinking of a present alone, I might've picked something useless. 

Kate: … Then I guess this is something we accomplished together. 

Robin gently wrapped my self-deprecating words with kindness and smiled tenderly. 

When I saw that smile… I felt like I finally knew the reason why I instinctively wanted to see her. 

(I think… I just wanted her to hear about today’s events.) 

I wanted her to hear all about how happy it made me when Nica accepted the present and said he’d use it every day, and about how… lonely… I felt when I couldn't bring back the kind of smile I once saw on his face. 

(I want Robin to hear my thoughts and feelings… I want to share this sentiment with her.) 

(... As for why I want that, I’m still not sure of it.)

(But this restless feeling I have towards Robin isn’t unpleasant.) 

While I was lost in thought, I suddenly remembered the item in my pocket.

Ring: Right, Robin. As a token of thanks, I want you to have this.

Kate: This is… a ticket to the play that’s really popular right now and hard to buy tickets for…! 

Kate: Are you sure? Can I really accept such a nice gift…!?

Even as she asked that question, her fingers were tightly gripping the ticket, not willing to let go. 

It was obvious how much she loved theatre and that she wanted to keep the ticket. It was honestly kind of funny to see. 

Ring: … Nica gave me two tickets as a birthday present, so I want to share them with you.  

Kate: I see…

Robin’s voice when she responded suddenly sounded lacking in energy. 

I thought it was strange and wondered if something was bothering her. I decided to stay silent, waiting for her to continue— 

Kate: Um… what do you plan to do with the other ticket?

Ring: Nica went through the trouble of getting it for me, so I was going to see the play myself…

Ring: Do you perhaps want both tickets? You’d probably have more use for it than I would, so I don’t mind giving it to you.. 

Kate: That’s not it! It's just… if it’s okay with you, can we go watch the play together?

Ring: You want to watch it with me? 

Ring: … I think you already know this by now, but I’m not the kind of guy who can say anything insightful about a play. 

Kate: That’s okay. I just want to watch it with you and say things like “that was good”, “I didn’t quite like that part”... 

Kate: I want to share such feelings with you.

Ring: Share… feelings… 

Her words caught me off guard because those were my exact thoughts just moments ago. 

(Robin is an ordinary person in Crown, and I’m a Cursed One in Vogel. Our worlds are so different, and yet…) 

(... We think the same way. It’s surprising.)

Kate: … Is that a no? 

Ring: I-it’s not. I’d love to! 

Kate: Fufu. You sound like you’re warming up for a battle, Ring. … I’d love to watch the play with you too. 

Robin laughed at my overly enthusiastic response.

When I saw that smile, for some reason, it made me think of one of the meanings behind the osmanthus flower. 

[mimiu3usoft]

 A Heart Stolen by Fiction |Sylus| (Love and Deepspace)

Summary: You created perfection—crafted beauty with your own hands. Yet, as he gazes at her creation with adoration, a question lingers in the shadows of your mind: If he saw the real me, would his eyes still shine the same? Trapped between reality and illusion, she clings to a love that was never hers, haunted by a truth she refuses to face. Warning: I apologize for any mistakes. Firstly, I dont even have the game, so I'm sorry if it's not what you expected it to be. This one is bad for sure. It's my first time posting something here;-; don't get mad if it's bad. If it's bad just dm me;-; what I can do to make it better.

Your eyes gleamed softly as they lingered on the screen, drawn to the way his eyes shone—it suited him so well. His smile, the tenderness in his gaze, made your heart swell with warmth, only to shatter the next moment. Reality stung like a cruel reminder—he wasn’t looking at you that way. His eyes, filled with admiration, were only for her.

You knew you shouldn’t be jealous of your own MC, but the way he touched her, so gently, so reverently—it made you ache. Oh, how you wished to feel that too, even just once.

Your MC was beautiful. You created her and shaped her to be perfect, yet the weight of her beauty pressed heavily on you. She was everything you admired, yet everything you weren’t. And the worst part? She looked exactly like you. But somehow, she was still better.

It hurt knowing that, in reality, a man like him didn’t exist—not for you. The stupid game had its grip on you, wrapping around your heart like an unshakable chain. You wanted to stop, to pull yourself away, but the thought of letting go hurt even more.

Through the screen, Sylus chuckled, his voice smooth and effortless, sending a painful flutter through your chest. Your heart ached, yet you smiled anyway, hanging onto every word he said as if it were meant for you.

You hated him.

You hated him for making you feel this way—for twisting your emotions, for making you crave something you could never have. But most of all, you hated yourself. Because despite everything, despite knowing it was all fake, you still wished—desperately—that it wasn’t.

You closed your phone with a soft click, exhaling as if to steady yourself after reliving that beautiful, bittersweet memory. Yet, no matter how much you tried to shake it off, the lingering warmth in your chest felt hollow—like a ghost of something that was never truly yours to begin with.

Your throat suddenly felt dry. You swallowed, but it didn’t help. This is stupid. The thought echoed in your mind, bitter and sharp, yet you didn’t fight it. Slowly, you turned to switch off the light, the darkness wrapping around you like a quiet embrace.

Lying there, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts drifted back to that scene. To him.

If he were to see the real me… would he still think the same?

The question gnawed at you, a painful whisper in the back of your mind. And then, before you could stop it, a single tear escaped, sliding down your cheek, warm against your cool skin.

That… you thought, the ache settling deep in your chest, that is truly an art piece in his eyes…

Not you. Never you. 

She was too gorgeous to be you. 

Sylus POV

[belit0]

The Uchiha guys in love with a reader who really seems like the women of their time (a submissive, fragile, calm woman and such, that stereotype of a "perfect" wife) but in reality is completely the opposite? I imagine her kicking the ass of men who say any shit about her and being so badass (I don't know if you'll understand, but I hope you do - my English is horrible)

Your English is totally fine darling!! I love u!

Madara

Madara had always prided himself on his ability to see through deception.

And yet...

As he sat in the council hall, listening to (Y/N) pour tea with serene grace, her lashes lowered, her voice soft and demure, he could almost believe it.

A perfect woman. Gentle, obedient. A wife who knew her place.

The men around the room certainly thought so. They whispered about it—how lucky Madara was, how rare it was to find a woman so well-mannered, so proper.

Until a hand landed on her waist.

Not his.

A visiting clan leader, drunk on his own importance, had made a mistake.

Before Madara could move—before he could even breathe—

CRACK.

The man was on the floor. Clutching his wrist. Face twisted in agony.

(Y/N) still held the tea tray. Her expression unchanged.

–Ah, my hand slipped.– she murmured, voice honeyed. –How clumsy of me.–

The entire room had gone silent.

Madara stared at her.

His lips curled.

His woman.

He had known. Somewhere, deep down—he had always known.

And he had never been prouder.

Izuna

Izuna had never been one for quiet women.

He liked fire, sharp words, a challenge.

So when he met (Y/N)—sweet, graceful, soft-spoken—he thought, how boring.

Then, he saw her fight.

Not with weapons, not with steel—but with words sharp enough to cut bone.

It happened when an elder made a passing remark—something about how a woman’s role was to serve, to be seen and not heard.

Izuna had prepared to laugh it off.

But (Y/N)?

She simply tilted her head, smiled, and said,

–And yet, here I am. Heard. Respected. More than you will ever be.–

Silence.

The elder’s face darkened.

Izuna grinned.

Oh, he had been wrong about her.

And he had never wanted a woman more.

Obito

Obito was obsessed with (Y/N).

How could he not be?

She was gentle, soft-spoken, always kind. The type of woman men dreamed of having as a wife—the kind that made a house a home.

Or at least, that’s what he thought.

Until he saw her knock a man out cold.

He had blinked. Rubbed his eyes.

The man—some arrogant fool who had tried to corner her in the marketplace—was sprawled on the ground, completely unconscious.

(Y/N) dusted off her hands, sighing. Then, she looked up and saw Obito gaping.

Her face did not turn red in embarrassment.

–...Would you like to get something to eat?– she asked, as if nothing had happened.

Obito loved her.

He wanted to marry her immediately.

Shisui

Shisui found (Y/N) adorable.

She was everything men praised in a wife—sweet, elegant, a voice as soft as silk.

But then—

Then he saw her throw a man over her shoulder.

He had been mid-drink.

Had choked on his tea.

(Y/N) had merely smoothed her sleeves and stepped over the unconscious body like it was a puddle in the road.

Shisui, still coughing, had managed, –Since when could you do that?–

She blinked at him, expression angelic.

–Since always.

And Shisui?

Shisui had never felt so in love.

Itachi

Itachi did not believe in appearances.

He had known—suspected, at least—that (Y/N)’s softness was a veil.

But he had not expected to see her beat a man senseless.

It had happened in an instant. A comment. A sneer. Some fool, believing her to be weak, had tried to put her in her place.

And she had put him in the dirt.

(Y/N) straightened, adjusting her sleeves, calm as ever. Then, seeing Itachi watching, she gave a polite smile.

–Shall we go home?

He exhaled.

And then, with undeniable fondness,

–Yes. Let’s go.

[lonely-moons]

♡୭something good | sam winchester x reader, pt. 2

title: something good, pt. 2 (read pt. 1 here)

pairing: stanford!sam winchester x socially anxious!reader

warnings: once again a hell of a lot of overthinking, social anxiety, reader is yet again an (i say this with affection) awkward loser, sam winchester being a sweetheart, more m&ms (when do i get sponsored)

summary: you begin to remember your plans to just go at it alone, but it seems as though sam winchester is hellbent on ruining that

wc: 2,943

masterlist

over the next two days, the weekend, where you have no excuse to run into sam, your inflated sense of joy wears down. you wake up and wonder what's gone wrong, how a couple hours with the guy had managed to chip away your self-promise that you would just make it through college without caring about the social aspect. with choosing not to form any connections, so that it didn't hurt as much when no one would want them with you anyway.

you spend an embarrassing half an hour working this through in your head before getting out of bed on saturday. you know there's nothing wrong with being civil - it's not your aim to be an unwarranted bitch, after all - but growing attached? that's a mistake you've made time and time again. you know better now.

even though you and sam had exchanged numbers, neither of you appear in the other's phone over the weekend. not that you're actively checking. you illuminate the screen for the time, for the date, for the temperature before you head out to grab some dinner. it barely even crosses your mind that your inbox is empty.

and when you get a spam call on sunday afternoon, you most certainly do not almost fall off your bed in your haste to grab it.

when monday rolls around, you're the first to arrive in class. you always are. it's a tactical move that you can never quite give up, something that lessens the anxiety that's ceaselessly churning in your gut. you want first choice of a seat so that you don't end up too close to the front or back, where the students usually get picked on. the middle is your comfort zone, where you can blend in with everyone else. you're typically good at that, after all.

when someone slides into the empty seat beside yours, you don't even look up, assuming it's someone you don't know, given that that's pretty much everyone. only when there comes a light "hey" do you flinch slightly and stop digging around in your backpack.

"8 a.m. classes are just the best, aren't they?" sam rubs slightly at his eyes, and despite the exhaustion in his tone, the words come out through a small smile. not for the classes - for you.

"what?" you ask. it's the only thought in your head right now, and it comes out as majestically as it sounds bouncing around in your brain.

"think these should be illegal." he looks at where your hand is still stuffed elbow-deep into the backpack perched on your knees. "you get lost in there?"

you blink, shaking away your surprise even though most of it manages to stay latched on. "um..." your fingers move around, finally finding what you're looking for, and you extract your arm then unceremoniously dump the bag to the ground. it lands on your foot but you act like it doesn't. thankfully there are no 600-page hardback textbooks in there right now. "just... need a pen." you smile clumsily, waving it between your fingers. "got one."

now it's sam's turn to be taken aback. you're about to wonder why he looks like he's never seen a pen before, but then you realise which one you've taken out: the one designed to look like a syringe. you had found it in a joke store one day after going out for a walk in the local town. you didn't like leaving without buying anything - and you had thought it was pretty cool.

"oh, it's - it's not real," you say, pressing the nib to your arm and clicking the top. "see?" you internally roll your eyes at yourself - no kidding.

he looks amused, the beginning of his dimples starting to peek through. you try not to look at them. "well, if it was, i think i'd have to tell you you're in the wrong class."

the sharpness of your own awkwardness manages to deflate you. you had started off on edge with sam on friday, as you do with everyone, but by the end of the evening had felt comfortable. it's only been three days, yet you seem to be back at square one. you look around, frowning slightly now, thinking that at least it can't get much worse. "i don't know, half the people here look like they'd want to be put out of their misery." you're sure you'd make the top of the list but don't mention that part.

"they'd probably prefer something more effective than a syringe."

you click it again, offering sam a brief glance. "anything can be effective if you've got the spirit."

his eyes switch between you and the pen, that amused sort of light dancing in his eyes. "i don't know if i should be inspired or terrified."

"both?"

his dimples finally tip into full-blown as he agrees, "both."

for some reason it eases your tension, and you continue talking until your professor arrives, which ends up being much sooner than you'd have liked. it's much sooner than you'd like every day, because it now seems to be some kind of unspoken routine that sam comes to sit beside you in classes. there's been nine so far. not that you're counting.

you also aren't counting that you handed in your project four classes ago, which means that there's no obligation forcing him to be here. at least not of the scholarly kind. you can't stop yourself from wondering if he feels bad for you. if he realises you have no friends, and this has turned into some sort of pity thing - god, you really hope it's not a pity thing.

but he doesn't act like it's a chore. doesn't seem to be regretting his decision as he asks you about the newest book you're reading, doesn't mind when you start a silent game of hangman during a boring class after finishing the tic-tac-toe he'd initiated. doesn't mind that you sometimes need to pause in the middle of a sentence because your words are becoming too fast, too thick for your mouth to keep up with.

you try not to read into anything too much, which unsurprisingly doesn't work. it's just like you to get annoyingly caught up in anyone being kind, your usual clinginess always threatening to rear its head.

the next day, you're sitting in class wearing a top that never usually makes it out from the bottom of your closet. it's nice, nicer than something you usually wear while not being too over-the-top for a college morning. and you tell yourself it has nothing to do with seeing sam, that you just want to get your money's worth out of buying this thing on a whim. you certainly aren't wondering if he'll notice, if he'll like it, because it wouldn't make a difference to you either way.

you don't care.

that thought repeats in your brain like a mantra, bouncing around so strong that it keeps turning your head in the direction of the door. it's beginning to get ridiculous, which the antsy tapping of your foot so kindly reminds you of. you grab your notebook from your bag and begin to add to some of your notes, just to have something to do.

when your professor arrives a few minutes later, the seat beside you is still empty. you try not to feel disappointed - sam could be late, or maybe he's sick today. or, you think, when you spot him a few rows away from the front and talking to two guys, maybe that clingy nature of yours has made its appearance after all.

you wish you could say you imagined the sinking feeling in your chest, the wheel turning in your head that reminds you of why you don't usually bother with people in the first place. why you made your promise. you know it's irrational, that sam doesn't owe you anything, and certainly doesn't have to always sit beside you.

that doesn't mean you hadn't hoped he would.

when the class is over, you leave on your own. usually you and sam would linger for a few moments outside, talking until he really does have to rush off for his next class. you usually head back to your place, enjoying the walk through the campus. even before you can plug in your earphones, the chirping of the birds keeps your mind happy as you run over your interactions with sam.

now your earphones come out tangled and a crow squawks obnoxiously loudly in your ear. you huff, then it seems the world really does hate you as you feel a small stone in your shoe. the walk home is more of an angry march, your mouth set into a hard line and jaw clenched. your top's thin fabric makes it so that the wind raises relentless goosebumps on your skin. maybe you'll just go to sleep, ditch your class later and mark today off as not having existed.

you collapse into your bed immediately, not bothering to move the blankets. about five hours are lost after you've woken up some time in the late afternoon. the rest of the day is a bust, with you just half-heartedly getting some work done but mostly watching movies that aren't holding your attention either. you know you're overreacting, but you can't seem to bring yourself to care.

the next day, you don't have a class with sam until the early afternoon. you arrive late - by your standards - to class, after having snoozed your alarm one too many times, which drags your mood down even further. you pulled on the same outfit from yesterday, still piled on the ground, and hoped your deodorant would get you through until you could take a shower tonight. now you settle unhappily into a seat at the back, desperately trying not to watch the back of sam's head. you once again leave right after the class, heading back to your room but only making it twenty minutes before your stomach loudly complains.

you head to the closest place on campus where you know you like the food. it's a relatively busy fast food place, but not many people venture up to the second floor, so you're usually able to find a quiet corner to reside in. but you're here later than you usually would be, which means it's rowdier, and as you make your way to the queue, you decide you'll just bring it back to your place where you can continue the show you had started last night.

"y/n?"

you turn in alarm towards the separated queue that's designated for anyone only ordering coffee. sam is standing there, hands in his pockets, that usual smile on his face even despite the bags under his eyes.

you blink for a moment, wondering if you're still half-asleep. you somehow hadn't noticed him, despite his height, but you had been mostly sighing under your breath and watching your shoes. it's weird, though, how you're suddenly seeing him in here, when it's not a backdrop you're used to seeing behind him. but the light streams through the high windows, hitting his eyes in a certain way that draws your attention. they look expectant, a little amused, and you nearly debate running when you realise you haven't responded yet.

"oh." you shake your head, stumbling a little as some old guy in a hurry jostles past you. "hi sam."

"hey. you getting some lunch?"

you nod, still feeling a little bleary from your lack of sleep last night. "coffee?"

"yeah..." he seems to think for a moment, thoughts whirring about behind his eyes as he pauses. "hey, are you busy?"

"busy?" you ask, like you don't understand the word. "um... no?"

he shifts on his feet. "mind if i join you for lunch? my treat."

now you're really sure you're not following the conversation. this doesn't seem like the request of someone who's trying to shake you. sam easily could've pretended to not have seen you, or at least just said a polite hello. now he's offering to buy you lunch?

"you don't have to -"

"i want to."

you think about your promise to yourself, about just making it through college without giving much thought to friends or socialising. maybe you know that deep down you're being dramatic, or maybe it's the fact that the queue moves so that now it's your turn and you have to make a split-second decision. but you nod.

"okay."

sam's shoulders loosen and he steps over from his own queue to yours as you both go up and order. a few minutes later you're sitting at a booth. on the bottom floor, which you're not too thrilled about, but you did at least manage to get a corner. sam's got a salad, but you're starving, and looking forward to digging into your pizza and fries.

"i didn't see you during class," he says. "is everything okay?"

"oh, just... um... had a paper to finish." you take a bite of the pizza, wincing at how hot it is, but you know you'll just start running your mouth if it's free.

"ah." he nods, like it was the answer he'd been looking for. "i was wondering why you looked so busy in class yesterday. i didn't wanna disturb you."

you stuff another bite of pizza into your mouth, feeling horrible. you had practically spent the last twenty-four hours thinking he was another person who would just throw you away like something discardable. you know you overthink things all the time, but recognising that only seems simple in hindsight. and then whatever negative emotion it generates only dissolves into guilt, which hits you in full-force now.

"you know me," you smile, though it feels all wrong, "just... busy." busy mind, you guess, always managing to come up with ways to destroy you.

"i've noticed." it's lighthearted, which might make you feel worse. "you get it finished?"

"yeah. all done."

"well, good, i'll need you there tomorrow. i had to actually listen today."

your mind only just manages to push that first part aside so that you don't begin making a fool of yourself.

you know he always listens anyway. somehow manages to play the silly paper games with you and still take perfect notes. but you widen your eyes. "oh, the horror. maybe you should be laying down right now."

"should i get my vitals checked? maybe i need a shot - you've got that covered, right?"

the jab at your pen isn't lost on you. "yeah, sure, where do you want it?"

his laugh is abrupt, like it snuck up on him. you like it, you think, knowing that it's genuine. that you get to hear it before he can decide which way he wants it to be heard.

the conversation sinks into that easy flow once again, and only then you feel how much you've missed it. you keep talking until your food is nearly gone, just a few meagre fries left. at one point, sam leaves under the guise of wanting to get a refill. but when he returns, he's holding two small ice creams in little cardboard tubs.

you send him an unimpressed look, which deepens into a scowl as he refuses to accept your money. he was the one who'd decided you should have one, not you, which meant he had to pay. or so he claimed.

"so, no game of thrones t-shirt today?"

you look down, realising you'd never changed out of your slightly-more-fancy top from the day before. it hadn't felt like as big of a deal as it had yesterday, but now you're painfully aware that you're wearing it. how it clings to you in ways your spider-man ones certainly don't.

"laundry day." you shrug, a little too quickly, grabbing your drink. some of it sloshes down over the side of the cup, but thankfully he doesn't seem to notice. or, at least, care.

"huh... well, you look nice. it - looks nice, you know, the, uh... colour. suits you."

you watch him, confused. he looks a little shy as he says it, sinking down in his seat slightly. is he flustered? the stammering is usually your thing; while sam isn't arrogant, he does have a particular air of confidence about him. that seems to have dissolved entirely.

as if hoping to save himself, he reaches across and steals a fry from your plate. before you can pry any deeper into this, your face automatically drops into an expression that might be suitable for someone who'd killed your firstborn child.

"hey, i bought them," he says, snickering, and it seems as though the look on your face eases something back into him.

you hadn't even wanted any more of the cold fries, having been about to move on to your ice cream. but you like the way his eyes crinkle in amusement at your reaction. you grab the ice cream now, swirling the plastic spoon around inside, trying not to outwardly react to the fact that there's m&ms added in - which he obviously knows you like by now. you narrow your eyes at him, ignoring the flip of your stomach. "this becoming a thing now? you giving me free food?"

"are you complaining?"

"depends. do i ever get to return the favour?" it's bold for you, something that slips out as a teasing remark before you can really dissect what it means. the kind of thing you probably should've thought out in advance - you have a feeling that the lost time worrying will be made up tonight as you try to sleep. you're not sure if you want to take it back.

sam doesn't react much, but you do notice the quick tick of his lips. "name a time. i'll be there."

never mind. you don't want to take it back at all.

when you get back to your room, you collapse against your bed like earlier. only this time, it's with a sigh of contentment. the thought only hits after a moment, as you're staring at some peeling paint on the ceiling, and it's so swift and striking that you feel as though you've been sucker-punched.

hold on - did you just as sam winchester out on a date?

and did he say yes?

notes: i don't wanna make promises bc i am notoriously bad at keeping up with updating, but i'm thinking of trying to post every friday?? maybe?? 🫣

also thank you for the support on pt 1!! ♡

[purpdrawsthings]

Happy 2nd Anniversary It's Gotta Be Perfect!

"For the longest time, I've envied you.

Even from the start, I was jealous.

You had so much passion, talent and creativity.

I wanted to prove myself too y'know?

But you were always one step ahead of me.

You had everything, I didn't.

I too was.. Once swallowed by jealousy and anger.

I'm ashamed of that.

And I didn't want something similar to happen to you too.

We all care about you, very, very deeply.

You made an impact in our lives, how could we not love and cherish you as our friend?

From the day you accepted me, I realized how important it was to have friends.

I learnt from my mistakes.

So I knew what I had to do.

In that moment.

Because,

When you were blind

You couldn't see.

You didn't call out.

Because you wanted to prove to everyone that you could make something great.

You didn't really realize how familiar that really was huh?

Here's a piece of advice for you.

Don't be ashamed or shy to call us all out. You can talk about your problems all you want, we'll listen. Don't bottle it up, tell us. I don't want to see you hurt or scared. After this you're coming with me to get some food. And no, you can't decline!"

[fel-09]

A Woman who can't drink is a disaster 18+

Pairing: tommy Shelby x reader

Warning: Alcohol consumption ,Content 18+

Author's note:The only thing I did badly was the ending, because I could have written it much better. And I want to sleep

She doesn't often get drunk, but when she does, she turns it into an art form. Alcohol dissolves in her blood, softening her movements, making them smooth, graceful as a cat's, and yet completely reckless. Once she's had a couple of drinks, all her restraint goes to hell: she becomes talkative, sarcastic, unbearably free.

Thomas hates it.

He hates the way she absent-mindedly shakes the glass in her fingers, lazily watching the amber liquid play. The way she squints her eyes, trying to remember a word, and wrinkles her nose when her memory fails her. The way he stretches out the words, as if savoring them, and then finds a special pleasure in it and laughs, throwing back his head. He hates even that laughter itself - too sonorous, too lively, too frank.

He sits across from her, exhaling blue smoke, but he can't help but stare. Catching every gesture, every curve of her lips, every drunken sigh. He can't bear to see her gradually lose control, her guard dulled, and the world around her become nothing but a haze.

She doesn't belong to him, but at times like this it feels like she belongs to something else-this warm, clammy, foggy state that alcohol draws her into.

And that makes him angry.

Because she has to be edgy, defiant, sharp as ever. Should respond to his glances with equally barbed ones, full of hidden challenge, but now-now she's different.

And yet he doesn't take his eyes off her. Because even so - insufferable, drunk, unceremonious - she's still the one who keeps him in suspense.

And the funny thing about all of this is that she, on her fifth binge, decides to teach him.

Okay, he can understand it when she's sober when she's telling him her grievances. When she says, with her usual sarcasm, that he should be friendly once in a while, or, for example, "don't barge into the house like a torpedo". These are her words, her quotation, thrown to him once with an irritated wave of her hand when he came in too sharply, too impetuously, too ... Shelbyesque.

But now--now it was different.

Now he was looking at a woman who could hardly stand on her feet, who was lazily running her finger over the rim of a glass, speaking in a stammering tongue, talking nonsense. He doesn't even listen to what she's talking about. At first he tried to catch the meaning, but quickly gave up. At some point her speech became so ridiculous that even he, who had seen everything, became annoyed.

Thomas nervously lights a cigarette, taking a deep drag, one hand resting on his hip as if trying to keep himself in reality. He doesn't know what to do with her. Completely.

Chase her away? She'll only laugh.

Leave her here? Tomorrow she'll accuse him of being heartless.

Try to calm her down? It's ridiculous to even try.

He looks at her sideways, slowly exhaling smoke, and she, all in her drunken philosophy, doesn't notice his murderous stare. She keeps on talking. Something important, I guess. Something important to her.

And he--and he just doesn't know where to put this woman anymore.

And then it finally hit.

A phrase that would scar his mind forever. A phrase that made him wonder if he had made some fatal mistake when he let this woman into his life.

- Did you know that if you put a frog on a drum set, it becomes a musician against its will?

Thomas froze. Just froze in place, unable to even inhale. He stared at her, blinked once, then again, but the words still didn't make sense.

And she, satisfied with her thought, continued, finishing him off:

- "And anyway, someone looked at the cow first and decided: "I'll milk this one."

It was too much. It pressed on his psyche harder than war, than business, than any betrayal.

He took a nervous drag on his cigarette, feeling that a little more and his sanity would simply refuse to take it.

She opened her mouth again, but he raised his hand sharply, cutting short the nightmare:

- Shut up. Just...shut up.

Even Arthur preferred to disappear at times like this. He could be anything - reckless, irascible, irascible, boisterous - but not an idiot to voluntarily stay by her side when she was drunk.

John... John was already broken. She had plunged him into the abyss of her "fairy tales" time after time, and now he, traumatized, had been sitting in the closet for hours and didn't seem to have any intention of coming out. Perhaps he was trying to make sense of his life there. Perhaps he was simply resigned to his fate.

And Thomas... Thomas was now taking the fall for everyone.

He exhaled heavily, watching her stretch lazily, still carrying the hell out of her, satisfaction in her eyes. She's enjoying this. She knows damn well she's getting on everyone's nerves, but she keeps going.

Poor Finn. Finn escaped that fate. He was lucky.

He was the youngest, so he was entitled to be saved.

Another drop in the ocean.

A single drop in this never-ending barrage of nonsense, but it was the last.

Thomas couldn't stand it.

His gaze fell on her face, sliding over her squinting eyes, her eyebrows, slightly mockingly arched. Her lips - slightly swollen from alcohol and endless chatter, moist, unbearably irritating... but they were the ones he lingered on.

At that moment. he realized.

He realized that even though she pissed him off, even though she drove him crazy every night when she got drunk and started her nonstop stream of words, even though he was ready to run away anywhere to avoid hearing it....

He listened anyway.

Every word. Every goddamn letter. Not because he was a masochist.

It was because it was her.

- And you know, I--

He didn't let her finish.

Her voice-that melodic, slightly dragging, drunken voice that made him both mad and maddened at the same time-had to stop. Now.

His patience was wearing thin.

Thomas grabbed her wrist, and before she realized what was happening, he had her in his lap.

She blinked, but before she could even squeak, his palms firmly gripped her thighs, forcing her against his torso.

to wrap her arms around his torso.

Hot breath, heavy, slightly hitching-she was still trying to figure out what was going on, but he didn't leave her a second to think.

Their lips met.

Not gently, not slowly, not tenderly - greedily, demandingly, with a complete determination to shut her up once and for all.

She shuddered, her fingers pressing into his shoulders, instinctively clinging to the fabric of his shirt.

Lips hot, soft, yet firm, hard, commanding. Thomas wasn't asking, he was taking.

His breathing became confused. He wouldn't let go.

Kissed, going deeper, greedier, with the same desperation that built up in him every time she spoke, spoke, spoke....

Lips. The taste of whiskey and something sweet. Her hands lost in his hair.

She twitched as if trying to pull away, but he was stronger. He held on.

Until at some point he felt her respond.

Warm fingers traveled down his neck, slid into his hair, clawed.

He wheezed into the kiss as her nails scratched his skin slightly.

- Just shut the fuck up.

Deafeningly. Powerful. Deeper than a whisper, but louder than he wanted.

She gasped, but didn't push away.

Shit. She was letting him.

The heat grew, coating her head with heat.

Her body responded to his every gesture, every strong, insistent kiss.

His fingers gripped her thigh greedily, digging into the soft skin, leaving hot marks that would be felt for a long time to come.

She could barely breathe.

Thomas felt her breathing hitch, her body involuntarily pulling closer, pressing tighter against him.

He wasn't thinking anymore.

His hips moved on their own, measured, pressing against her center through her clothes, stretching this moment to the point of madness.

A deep exhale, slightly hoarse, tinged with raw pleasure.

She could feel everything.

The heat of another man's body, the weight of his hands, each careful but unbearably maddening thrust forward, as if he were testing her patience, pushing her to the brink.

His lips found her neck.

Hot, greedy, demanding. He wasn't just kissing - he was digging into her skin, leaving marks, absorbing her reaction.

Thomas moved, slow, steady, endlessly teasing.

And he could hear her breathing.

Nervous, short, barely contained.

Shit.

She was reaching for him.

His patience was breaking.

Her nails scraped his neck, her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt as if she were trying to stay afloat, but things had already taken another turn.

Thomas squeezed her hips harder, pulling her against him, provoking her, forcing her to feel him fully.

Muffled, heavy, he exhaled through gritted teeth:

- I warned you, don't fucking bring me down.

Clothes had long since been lying on the floor, forgotten, unwanted. The room was thick, enveloping darkness, and the air, soaked with the warmth of their bodies, was heavy, rich, electrified

.

The climax came like a thunderclap, like a flash of lightning, shattering reality for an instant, leaving behind only a sense of finality.

She collapsed in his arms, barely breathing, lips slightly ajar, lashes quivering with residual impulses.

Thomas stared at her for a long moment, almost wistfully. Her features seemed softer in the darkness, a shadow falling across her collarbones, and her lips looked kissed to oblivion.

His heart was still pounding in his chest, but he was in no hurry to move.

Just watched.

She looked completely different. Not defiant, not cocky, not like she'd been in a drunken stupor when he'd been ready to throw her out the door, but different....

Calm. Real. His.

He was in no hurry to let her go, no hurry to speak.

Just ran his palm down her back, slowly, from neck to waist, letting her feel every movement of his fingers.

Thomas leaned over and touched his lips to her forehead, slowly, thoughtfully, discreetly but gently.

He knew that in the morning everything would be back to normal.

She'd argue again, claw at him with phrases again, pretend she didn't care again.

But right now - right now he was just being with her.

Thomas exhaled, ran his hand through her hair, letting himself freeze in that brief moment of silence, of peace, of truth.

And then, leaning back, he stared up at the ceiling and thought, for the first time in a long time, that maybe....

Maybe he didn't mind so much the whole damn disaster that was calling her.

She was just coming to, feeling someone else's warmth slowly drifting away from the sheets. The air in the room was saturated with cigarette smoke, the smell of whiskey, and something else-something that hadn't belonged to her before but was now embedded in her skin.

Her body ached. But it was a pleasant soreness.

She moved, feeling the soft fabric against her skin. The shirt was clearly not hers - too loose, slightly wrinkled, soaked with his scent. When she lifted her hand, the cuff slipped off, exposing her wrist.

She wasn't quite awake yet, but she could feel it - feel his gaze.

Thomas stood nearby, silent, smoking.

Naked to the waist, with a slight shadow of stubble on his face, he looked at her as if he'd already made up his mind.

There was none of the usual mockery, irritation, desire to leave.

Only a strange, unaccustomed calmness.

He smoked slowly, lazily, as if he were thinking something over, and then - without unnecessary emotion, simply as a statement of fact - he said:

- I take responsibility.

She froze.

The dream was gone instantly.

He didn't even look at her - he just threw the cigarette into the ashtray, shook the ash out with his hand, and continued smoking as if nothing had happened.

But to her, it had.

Her brain refused to make sense of those words.

Responsibility?

For what? For whom?

She sat up on the bed, one hand holding the collar of her shirt, her hair tangled, her breathing still ragged from sleep.

- Tommy...

He didn't let her finish.

He simply stepped closer, keeping his eyes on her face, and, slowly, with the same devilish confidence that drove her mad, he leaned over and said

her into a frenzy, he leaned over and said:

- Get used to it. You're mine now.

Get used to it.

It's not a request.

It's a sentence.

[that-weirdo-thing]

A seven-year-old is fighting an old man and is winning!

Doctor Ivo Robotnik never made mistakes. He just miscalculated, which was perfectly normal since he was always revolutionizing the sciences. Therefore, Ivo Robotnik knew that he hadn't committed a mistake, he just... miscalculated, terribly.

Agent Aban Stone knew better than to say that his doctor might have made a slight mistake, yet he thought so, particularly now. The project his doctor was working on now was supposed to be a machine able to show the knowledge of anyone who used it; even if he had been against the idea, his doctor decided to test it himself and instead of showing them any kind of knowledge from his doctor...

Instead of what was supposed to happen, there was a puff, some white smoke and now in the middle of the lab, was a boy. The boy has a striking resemblance to his doctor, the child has the same perplexed expression as his doctor right now.

"Who are you?!?! Where am I?!?! I don't have anything that you might want!!... you... you dimwits!!!" the boy screamed familiarly, looking around the lab as searching for some exit.

Robotnik, in his usual way, went straight to the terrified child just as this was screaming about how idiots they must be to let him see their faces.

"I know that you have eidetic memory! Because I'm you from the future!" He screamed back just as his hands held his younger version's shoulders.

Well, thought Stone unfazed, that explains the resemblance.

The young Ivo must have been around the age of six, he had wild red hair, it seemed unbrushed; he was clothed in some cheap clothes that were unkept and hanging loose off his small frame, probably second-handed. He also seemed completely lost and terrified.

Stone resisted the urge to go and comfort the child.

His doctor kept talking about how the younger one must make himself scarce while he fixed the problem, he didn't care if the infant saw anything of the future so he could just search about it.

"Perhaps, I might be of assistance taking care of him, doctor," he said before he could stop himself.

His doctor looked mad, well madder than a moment ago, but he just nodded stiffly before leaving for the computer. When the boy and the Agent were alone, the adult smiled at the child.

"Is there any way that you would prefer that I call you?" he asked, the little redhead looked at him with too-big brown eyes, his doctor eyes, full with unshed tears.

The boy looked away cleaning his tears harshly with his T-shirt before murmuring.

"Just Ivo is fine"

"Alright Ivo, now, do you want to get something to eat or do you want to do as the doctor said and learn about the future?" he asked nicely as he extended his hand for the child to take it.

The boy observed him for some minutes before shyly taking his hand. Stone's smile grew.

Ivo knew that what was happening wasn't a dream, he knew that a dream couldn't feel so real. At first, he thought that maybe someone in the orphanage decided to sell him off to some weirdos, but then the taller man said it was him, well, future him. They were in some kind of laboratory with ultra sss technology!!

His future self wasn't very nice, just like every other adult he knew, but then there was his agent, Ivo's future Agent! Mr Stone, as he had decided to call him, was the nicest adult that Ivo had ever known, he talked calmly, let him ask all the questions he wanted, made the best cocoa he had ever drunk, and even got him nicer clothes!

His Agent was the best!

Ivo was talking with his Mr Stone when his older self came and started to say mean things to his agent. Ivo didn't care if his future self was mean to idiots, but he was prohibited from being mean to his agent!

So Ivo did the only reasonable solution he could think of. He kicked the legs of that old man and rescued his agent!

Doctor Ivo Robotnik hated the mere presence of his younger version, he was weak, helpless and absolutely lacking. Being able to see himself just like his former caretakers did wasn't pleasant at all. He could only see his own weakness, his own failures.

He remembered himself at six as one of the weakest versions of himself, still so hopeful that the world wouldn't be as cruel as it was, his eight-year-old self might have been more pleasant, already illuminated to the harsh truth of the world. Anyway, what was done was done and he was trapped with one of the most loathed versions of himself.

So he ordered the brat to stay away, free to do whatever he wanted as he went back to fix the calculations. Robotnik hated the moment that his agent decided to speak, offering himself to entertain the brat as if that would make him endearing in Robotnik's eyes, ridiculous!

He didn't care what the agent was doing with the brat, as long as he got his lattes in time, he didn't care!

...

...

...

Okay, he might be curious. Robotnik observed them through the cameras, expecting to see the exact moment that the agent that the sycophant showed his true colours. He observed them talk calmly, watched them walk hand in hand, his agent preparing cocoa for the brat, it didn't matter that he also was doing his latte! That was his job! when his agent went to bathe the imp, when he helped the wrench brush his hair...

He needed to show his agent who was the boss.

He was doing his usual thing, terrorising his agent to show dominance, manhandle him around...

When a sudden pain in his left leg shocked him. Robotnik glanced down just to be met with familiar brown eyes...

The brat just kicked him!!

"You kicked me!!"

"You have been prohibited from being mean to MY agent!!"

HIS AGENT????

STONE WAS ROBOTNIK'S AGENT

NOT OF SOME... SOME LITTLE WEAKLING!!!

"YOU ARE A LITTLE NOBODY AND-!!!!"

Stone was hugging the brat. Stone was hugging the brat. Stone was hugging the brat. Stone was hugging the brat. Stone was hugging his younger self. Stone was hugging him.

...

...

...

We're sorry there's no signal :,(

...

...

...

Boop beep boop!

...

...

The system has returned.

We're happy to say we are returning from where you were before the error H34R7.

So, Stone is hugging the brat. He decided to protect the little imp, and he picked him up, hugging him while looking at Robotnik with his big wonderful stupid eyes filled with fake worry. Why else would he be willing to touch him??? He's saying some nonsense about the brat being only a child who doesn't understand, and who is still too young...

And Doctor Robotnik? He could only stare at how the fucking little brat sent him a smirk proudly in Stone's arms while the idiot was talking about a safe environment to grow and some more stupidities.

Wait.

Stone is on the brat's side.

Does that mean that the brat has won???

A brat has just kicked him and his agent is on the brat's side?????

"That imp needs to leave!!"

"Doctor, please!"

The little bastard puts his best sad face to Stone when the idiot looks his way, when the man turns back to try to convince him the imp starts to sign to Robotnik uh he didn't remember that he already knew how to sign at such age "Ivo 1, Oldman 0"

If he kills his younger self, it would affect himself or a new alternative universe where he had travelled to a parallel universe?