#laying down on the floor dead after such a cuteness attack

[kanene-yaaay]

Helping Hands

Notes: Encanto fic because I wasn’t not gonna write something for it. Anyway, here’s the result of my lee Bruno obsessed brain~

Summary: Camilo and Mirabel are more than willing to remind Bruno what it’s like to be in a family again.  

“Bruno! Help!”

The taller man whirled in surprise at his name before grunting as a tiny form was suddenly wrapping around his waist, hiding behind him. Camilo peeked his head out nervously, though there was a smile on his face, indicating nothing was technically wrong.

“Ah! Camilo!” Bruno lifted his arms warily, unsure what to do with the boy now attached to him. “Is everything alright?”

Camilo shook his head, and started giggling a bit, a strange reaction for whatever was causing him such fear. “You have to hide me! She’s a menace, Bruno, a menace, and I’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve this.”

Bruno blinked. With each word that came out of his nephew’s mouth he found himself growing more and more confused. He looked up, expecting a monster of some kind, or perhaps an angry Alma (she had been known to strike terror in the hearts of those around her at times), but instead he caught only a glimpse of Mirabel in the distance.

“You can’t run forever!” she called out teasingly, walking calmly over to them. Camilo merely gripped Bruno tighter, his nervous laughter growing more frantic the closer she came. “Bruno isn’t going to save you, is he?”

Continuar lendo

[za-vandal]

So I'm back from the dead, yippee! Now here's a word dump of how I wanna bang a big bad evil guy.

Sub! Villain X Hero Reader (male aligned, but no gendered terms used)

Not grammar checked, Smut at the end<3

Mean Villain, who was a monster of the hero's own creation. Perhaps the hero was a friend he fought with, an ex lover, or just rivals that went too far. But they both know there's no turning back when they meet again at a battle field.

Mean Villain who enjoys annoying and pissing off the hero. A habit that carried over the years from whatever past they had. He just loved seeing the hero so riled up, so mean and angry and how the hero's muscles would tense from the taunts.

Mean Villain, who tried to get the upper hand every time he fought the hero by doing surprise attacks, usually ending up getting thrown and pushed against the wall because the hero literally just swings them to the nearest surface they can and pins them down.

Mean Villain who enjoyed it a little too much, having to bite the hero so he could squirm away, hoping to whatever god that exists the hero didn't see how red his face was. He spent an embarrassing amount of time to spend that energy on his hard-on and accidentally moaned the Hero's name, accidentally moaning it too much.

Mean Villain not noticing that the hero had bugged him, a voice recorder was on his villain outfit just laying on the floor

Mean Villain, hiding his emotions as best as he could, wondering why the hero looked so flustered when they met again.

Confused villain who doesn't understand why this is happening. He has never had thoughts this horrendous about the hero. How the hero's hand could slide against his pecs so nicely, and squeeze his chest while the hero's fingers plunged deep inside.

Confused villain who wakes up hard like a freaking teen and gets so embarrassed that whatever evil plan of the day gets cancelled. His lackeys were so confused why their boss was throwing darts at a picture of the hero while mumbling how about how hot he was.

"Think boss lost it." "No shit Sherlock, but at least we have an off day".

*cues to unholy screeching and shouting, where the villain complains about the hero's body being too big and stuttering once he thinks about what else would be big*

Confused villain who found the hero ending patrol one day, and the hero looked so pissed while getting ready to fight. The villain accidentally complements the hero, leaving the two of them absolutely mortified. The villain ran with the hero chasing after him, trying to get answers.

Confused villain, who accidentally entered a rival villain's territory. Taken by surprise and captured, locked in a warehouse without his suit, wearing whatever rags were prepared by the henchman. Terrified about the fact that the territory he was in was of a hostile competitor, someone who would kill the villain if given the chance.

Confused villain who blacked out. Tied to a chair and beaten all over, they might be strong but this was on another level... He could hear a loud crash as his vision faded and his mind went numb, he pleads to whatever higher power that existed that we would be saved.

Recovering Villain, sleeping so prettily on the hero's bed.. he woke himself up when he fell onto the floor, the hero was quick to check on him, leaning down so close that their lips were almost touching.

Recovering villain who said "fuck it, we ball" and kisses the hero first, while the hero deepens the kiss to the surprise of the villain, who whimpered as the hero started squeezing his body like how he would in his dreams.

Pretty villain thrown back onto the bed, wearing an oversized sweater of the hero and looking so cute~ He writhes his body as the hero touches him so delicately, kissing all the little places where his healed injuries were, worshipping this tattered, broken body so softly.

Pretty villain who cries as the hero picked up the pace, he could feel the hero's fingers so deep inside him, cute little huffs coming from his mouth as he tries to hide his place with the hero's pillow.

Pretty villain, whose body gets folded into a mating press as the hero slipped into him. His pretty little hole was squeezing down so nicely, his face with tears streaming down was just angelic. The hero's constant murmurs of encouragement makes the villain cry even more. It was so gentle, so deep, so good~

Pretty villain who moans so loud, moving his hips just so the hero could reach deeper, getting off to the fact that he likes being pampered and praised. His eyes rolling up as he could feel the hero's hand on his dick, preventing him from coming over and over.

Pretty villain who lost count how many times he's come, how many positions they were in, just laying on the bed with his thighs on the hero's shoulder. The villain couldn't mumble out a single coherent sentence, but he fills the air with short breaths and pleads. Blurting out about how big and deep the hero was, how he wanted to get filled up so nicely.

Pretty villain who wakes up next to the hero cuddling him, as he starts to annoy the hero again, asking to be pampered. Something's just never change.

[mochiimadness]

Please let me finish this food prep training

You stare at the staff bot laying on the ground. It stares back. Somehow, despite lacking a proper expression, pure spite oozed from it's thousand-yard stare.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, willing yourself to ignore the loud chomping and clanging beside you until it finally goes silent.

"Chica." You start, free hand on your hip. The animatronic chicken giggles- high pitched and nervous. It sounds like clucking almost- cute (or at least it would be if it weren’t for the loud problem at hand). "How am I suppose to finish this training course if you keep bullying my customers?"

You can hear her start fidgeting, metal tapping against metal in short bursts.

"Don't worry about the training, you're doing great!" She says, dodging the question in favor of praising your hard work, and you finally bring your head away from your hand to squint at her.

She smiles and twitches; head jerking to the side slightly- pointedly ignoring the poor staff bot she had just so brutally shoved to the floor.

"That's not the point and you know it." You glare at her, finger jabbing in her direction.

She lifts her hands up in surrender, eyes darting around in hopes of avoiding your frustrated glare.

"Well- I'm just," She's stammering, "I'm just providing you with an accurate customer experience! It's not like the staff bots can eat- they were just going to toss it out anyway."

“Chica!”

“At least I can tell you how good it tastes!”

You bury your face back into the palms of your hands and groan. A deep breath in, a pause, and a long breath out. You repeat this a few more times until you’re able to drag your face up enough over your fingertips to look at the chicken again.

“Chica,” She hugs herself, arms clinking as they wrap around her midsection. “I’ve been here for almost two hours now. It was only supposed to take 45 minutes max.” You rasp, staring her dead in the eyes as an audible ‘gulp’ sounds from her voice box.

“You keep eating all the food.”

She whines at your words, shutting her eyes as her beak juts up ever so slightly- her way of pouting. “I know! And I’m so sorry- it’s just, I haven’t had pizza in so long… and yours smell so so good- they taste even better!”

You know for a fact she had pizza just yesterday- some kids birthday event. Your hands come down to grip the counter, the cool metal doing little to help settle you. At least you had something to grip now.

“Chica I will literally make you the biggest pizza-rito with everything on it if you let me finish this training.” You state, watching as her gaze snaps to yours. She leans forwards, deadly serious

“Everything?” She questions, eyes boring into yours and surely scanning your facial features down to the smallest twitch- to make sure you were telling the truth. Funny, you wish she would get this serious about cleaning up after herself.

“Everything.” You confirm, keeping steady, un-breaking eye contact.

“Deal!” Chica squeals, lunging forwards and nearly giving you a heart attack as does so. She’s animated again, arms wrapping around you and squeezing as she starts thanking you. You squirm a bit before relaxing in her hold and hugging her back.

“You’re welcome, you Pizza Addict.”

She squawks loudly in protest, though soon joins in with your laughter.

Updated and edited as of July 17th, 2024

[stickytrigger69]

Fluff of poly breakdown and knockout reuniting with s/o reader who they thought was offlined but surprise reader is alive

Poly Breakdown and Knockout x GN Cybertronian Reader

Reader is gender neutral

Bot instead of mech or femme

Readers' frame type, paint job, etc, are unspecified.

Reader is hinted at being somewhere in between the two in terms of height (just cause it's cute that way lol)

Reader is in a polygamous relationship with Knockout and Breakdown.

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

There is a long list of bots that have gone missing and been offlined during the war. Since even the beginning, both factions started losing troops to the unknown. And though the list is long, many know that it should be longer, so many others have been completely forgotten, they just don't exist anymore. That almost happened to you. Everyone almost forgot your name and frame type, believing that you were utterly obliterated. But there are two mech who think about you constantly and want you to return to them, they know you will even if wveryone says theyre delusional.

Their berth is comfortable and warm as they lay together. They don't even have to talk to enjoy each other's company. Even without words, they both know and feel that something is missing, though. That something was a special someone, a gorgeous bot that got as much as they gave, and they gave a lot. With a deep sigh, Knockout got closer to Breakdown, holding onto him tighter. The weather on this bipolar planet is gloomy today, cloudy with the promise of rain and lightning.

And it does nothing but add to their moment. After the loss of their third, the two have become closer. More worried and afraid of losing one another, the loneliness they both feel, the cold that they feel in your place is too much. To bear it alone would kill them. It would just break them down and make them crumble into a pile of rubble. So they hold each other, they hold each other so tightly sometimes it leaves paint transfers on their arms and chassis.

You made things flow, and since you've "disappeared," they've had to adapt and have, begrudgingly, built up a new routine without you. They uncomfortably work through the space you've left behind. Even now, Knockout holds onto Breakdown with a small space in between them for you to squeeze yourself into. With a small sigh, Breakdown reaches over and pulls him flush to him, closing the gap. He receives an annoyed grumble in return, but he doesn't care. No one but him can fill the space right now.

As soon as they begin to drift into recharge, the alarm blares into their audials, and the emergency lights flash red. Did the Autobots manage to make it onboard again? They both shoot up and out of the berth to start making their way down the halls to the control room. The closer they get, though, they notice vehicons scattered around the halls, they're not dead, just incapacitated. A little odd, Autobots don't seem to mind killing them unless they've just chosen to switch it up this time.

Just a few corners from the control room, they notice more cons on the floor. Just one more corner to the entrance of the control room and they see a shadow on the wall.

"Out of my way!" A stranger yells as a vehicon is thrown against the wall where their shadow rests. The door whooshes open, and the stranger wastes no time rushing in. More clanging of metal fists hitting faceplates and the occasional grunt and blaster fire. The two turn the corner to see the stranger take down the last vehicon in their way only to face off Soundwave and lose almost instantly. With a growl, they are knelt down in front of Megatron.

"You abandon me on Cybertron, and now you attack me when I should be welcome?" They hiss.

"I did not abandon you. And it is only a precaution. You did land unannounced." Megatron replies nonchalantly, earning another growl.

"I thought you'd recognize your own craft, my lord. But you just left me there! Just forgot about me!" They shout.

"All we found was a piece of your armor, there was nothing more-"

"Or so you thought! You didn't even bother looking!" That makes Megatron angry.

"There was only ash and no time to spare! It was a battlefield!" He yells, but they don't flinch.

"You knew I was alive, didn't you? Just couldn't be bothered, right?" They sound sad? "And what did you tell my partners? That I was dead? Even showed them the spot that marked my grave, didn't you? Where are they? Did you abandon them, too?" They accuse. "They're here, aren't they?" Megatron says nothing, only stares at the stranger. Halfway up the steps of the walkway, they stop to look at each other, hope in their expressions before they continue back up the stairs with newfound vigor. Eager to see this stranger.

As they come into view, it's hard to see more than just a color scheme because of Soundwave blocking their view of said stranger, but for some reason, they're oddly familiar. Megatron nods his head at the silent mech who lets you go, giving you room to stand. With the room, you lunge at him, but he grabs your shoulder, stopping you mid jump.

"Please understand, I didn't have a choice but to assume you were offlined for the greater good. To risk a whole battalion on one would be foolish. You do have a right to be angry, but know where to aim that anger." Megatrons servo tightens around your shoulder before turning you around to see Soundwave take a side step to move out of the way. Your frown dissipates and is replaced by surprise. Before you is a short red mech and a tall blue one. The room is silent, save for the sounds of pedes as the vehicons pick themselves up.

"I knew it!" Knockout shouts, causing you to flinch. "We knew it! We knew you were still functioning!" He hastily approaches you to take your servos in his and small beads of coolant in his optics. You didn't notice when coolant began building up in your own optics, but you did notice when a drop trailed down your face. You're at a loss for words, processor running low on energy as your red lover rants to you about how he knew you would find them. Megatron stands there behind you, watching with a smug face as your demeanor is weakened at the mere sight of your lovers.

A servo presses to the side of your face, cupping your cheek perfectly, and you subconsciously lean into it. A somber smile on your face as your optics flutter closed. Breakdown finally comes back into his frame and steps over to lift you both into his big arms. You laugh heartily at the sudden pressure, optics snapping open to look at his orange face. He smiles brightly at you, and without a word, he starts walking out of the control room. Your and Knockouts pedes sway with every step he takes.

"Soundwave, I want you to pay very close attention to them, (designation) doesn't seem like themself." Megatron orders when the trio are far away enough. The shorter mech beside him nods.

You've been gone way too long, it seems. The two have already made their new ways without you. Perhaps...

"(Designation)? Are you alright, sweet spark?" Breakdown asks softly.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Fine. Why?" Optics a little wider and voice a little higher than you mean for it to be, but you play it off.

"You're a little; I don't know." He shrugs at you. "I really can't say what it is, but I know something is off."

You frown and open your mouth to say something, "they're just getting used to things again. You feel out of place, don't you, love?" Knockout asks you with a small pout. You nod absent-minded. With the click of his glossa, he nods and pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your helm. You finally relax, frame slowing down after all this time. After so many years, your once tense joints and stressed lines loosen and open up. This is all you need and all that you've wanted. Always having been the physical type with your lovers, wanting their digits or servo intertwined with your own.

You let out a deep exvent, and Knockout hums approvingly. You sit there against Knockout, listening to his familiar frame him and Whirl with life. Breakdown watches and notices Knockout shift and brace his pedes on the floor. "Did they?" He asks. Knockout looks at him with a smile.

"They did. Help me move them, please." He pecks Breakdowns lips when he gets close enough to look at your face. Such a tired little face, he looks at every inch of your faceplate, dedicating the sight to his memory, he was scared he had been forgetting what you looked like but he still remembers. When he's satisfied, he stands tall and lifts you up off Knockout's chest with a small huff.

"They feel lighter." He states flatly only for the short red mech to hum in agreement. He looks down at him to see him staring at you.

"I've really missed them. I missed them so much. We won't let them disappear this time. We can't." He looks up into orange optics with a seriousness that would make most anyone shrink away. "Even if we have to put a leash-backpack-thing that human bitlets use, then so be it. But we can not let them out of our sight." He threatens before turning towards the berth. With a shiver and a light chuckle, Breakdown follows. Thank Primus you weren't awake to hear that, or you would have started fighting with the cherry red mech. Though he has kissed the sassy bickering, it's far too early in your return for an argument.

Later in the night, you wake up between them. 'When did I fall into recharge?' You muse. You lay there in thought, feeling their frames against your own. 'I'm never letting them out of my sight again, I'm staying with them even if it angers them' you settle your mind on that. Agreeing with yourself that you'll never leave their sides again.

"You're thinking too loud, go back to sleep." Knockout mumbles and presses his face into your neck. You turn towards him slightly but then settle back down with a hum. "Why do you feel so funny?" He inquires, "Just relax, would you? Stop overthinking."

"You don't have to worry," Breakdown stretches with a groan, "We're not going anywhere. Okay?"

"Okay." You whisper with a tired smile, your worries ebb away with their constant reassurance. You're happier, more comfortable than you've been in centuries, and it's because of these two mechs that have been missing for so long.

[lady-ofdark-roses]

Au where LSZ find out more about his past and who his mother is

so LSZ and JL and the rest of the Juniors go on a night hunt and someone come and try to kill LSZ but failed because JL manage to block the attack so they go back to gusu and tell WWX and LWJ and ofc WWX is very pissed off by this and say who did this should die in miserable hell but the next day there is a new student a son of a new clan sect leader LSZ felt uncomfortable with him for some reason so later on the new student make fun of JL for having no mother and father because he heard if you make fun of the sect leader Jin he will act like a angry mistress so JL so reply with a yeah what about it of course LSZ hear about it and said what did Young sect leader Jin say to you for you to say such rude things about his childhood so the new student just looked at LSZ and smile and said nothing cutie I was just curious about the rumor about angry mistress of the Jin clan he lift LSZ chin up and said hey what a cute boy like you doing with this angry mistress anyway immediately JL come in the way and said it none of your business JL hold LSZ waste when he said that LSZ was surprise of JL behavior it was unlike him act like this meanwhile LY and OYZN are just eating and minding their own damn business the new student said leave the cute boy a alone sect leader Jin and JL just say he mine got your own cute boy so the new student just say fine and leave very angry LSZ was processing what just happened and LY and OYZN just say WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE LJ turn red in a embarrassment just realized what he just said and LSZ ask sect leader Jin can you let go of my waste if you please JL turn more red just after just also realize he was holding LSZ waste immediately let go and run LSZ was also a little bit embarrassed and LJ hug LSZ say shiuzi-ge did the nasty young Mistress make you in uncomfortable LSZ know that LJ and JL are a bit too much when it comes to him LSZ just said don't worry about it but a few days later WWX and LWJ and the juniors go on a night hunt by accident they meet LXC and JC and JL it turns out there were also on the night hunt JL and LSZ fondant ancient type of weird symbol on a Stone WWX take a look at it then suddenly they get teleported to a mysterious cave all of them were separated they were shown the love one they used to know that are now dead LSZ we're separated like the rest of the group and saw a woman singing a beautiful song to her baby and saying my baby is the most cuter in the world I am the luckiest mother in the world LSZ find it weird feeling connection to this woman for some reason then suddenly he's sew the same woman except she was laying down on the floor blood surrounding her saying her last words to her baby my little bunny I'm sorry for leaving you this early I will give you a gift before I die a ring and my golden core and my mother fan I was planning to give it to you when you turn 14 or 13 I guess I will give you now but when you turn 18 you will unlock it's but I am a afraid if you can't handle my dark golden core but good bye my little a yuan hug her baby before she turned into nothing but beautiful flowers LSZ was shocked understanding now that woman is his mother after dead suddenly he got teleported to the place where the others were WWX and LWJ was worries LSZ because he was the last to arrive LSZ having tears in his eyes ask WWX if he knows who his mother is

[livslunaticdamiansdisciple18]

Birds of a Feather! Part 4 Test

Test x Y/n

Warnings: Cuteness!!

Word Count: 597

A/N: Let’s get into it.

The hours that followed the attack felt like a blur. After dealing with the two masked figures—who, according to Test, were only a small piece of a much bigger puzzle—the air in the motel room felt thicker than before. The immediate danger had passed, but Y/N knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet.

Test, ever the optimist, had already begun making plans for their next move. He was pacing the small space, muttering under his breath as he ran through different escape routes in his mind. Y/N, on the other hand, sat on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully.

She had never been one for trusting easily, but something about Test kept her from questioning his motives. He was different than the others, the ones who only ever cared about their own skin.

But what did he want from her?

“So, what’s the next step?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

Test glanced at her, his expression neutral but his eyes filled with a sort of quiet intensity. “We need to get you out of town for a while. Lay low somewhere they won’t find you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You think they’re still after me?”

Test’s eyes flickered briefly toward the window, and she followed his gaze, half-expecting to see more enemies lurking out there. But the street outside was empty—at least for now.

“I don’t think this is over,” Test said. “You’ve got some people who are more interested in you than you realize. You’re connected to something bigger than just a stolen ring.”

Y/N frowned, trying to process his words. The ring had always been the only thing on her mind, the only thing that had caused all this chaos. But now, with Test’s warning ringing in her ears, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

“I can’t just leave everything behind,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended. “I have to know who’s behind all this. I need answers.”

Test stopped pacing, his gaze softening as he looked at her. He could see the fire in her eyes—the same determination that had gotten her this far. But he also saw something else, something fragile.

“I get it,” he said, sitting down beside her on the bed. “You want answers. But sometimes, running and laying low is the only way to get those answers without ending up dead.”

Y/N bit her lip, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. “Then what do we do now?”

Test leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. “We start by getting out of here, get to a place where no one will find us. Then, we dig deeper into who’s hunting you. There’s got to be someone who knows what’s going on.”

Y/N nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being pulled into something much darker than she had anticipated. The ring was just the tip of the iceberg.

“I’ll pack a bag,” she said, standing up. “If we’re leaving, we need to move fast.”

Test watched her as she walked over to the small suitcase on the floor. He could see the unease in her movements, the way she tried to mask it with her usual stoic expression. He wanted to say something, to offer some sort of reassurance, but he knew better than to push her.

“You okay?” he asked instead, his voice low.

Y/N paused, looking at him over her shoulder. “I will be. Once we’re out of here.”

To be continued.....

-I hope you guys enjoyed this! I had fun writing it. I love you guys so so so so so much. <33333

[ladyantiheroine]

You Make Me Hungry

Summary: While Julie and R are hiding out, the two get closer than they ever have before. Read on AO3.

Pairing: R x Julie Grigio

Warnings: Explicit sexual content.

Word Count: 5.1k words

Tags: speech and language therapy, shakespeare quotations, cute, fluff, short & sweet.

Author's Note: Set after the scene at the Grigio house.

“Julie…”

Julie’s eyes snapped open. A low, raspy voice whispered to her in the dark. She knew that voice, the one that struggled to crawl from its owner’s throat.

“R?” she said.

She lifted her head from her pillow and glanced toward the floor. She and R had found themselves in the same place they were before they arrived at the compound. She was curled up in bed, and he was lying straight down on the floor.

Julie shifted closer to the side of the bed.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Did you hear something?”

R shook his head.

“No…” he said. He looked at her, those big blue eyes bright even in the dark. “Can’t…sleep…?”

Julie shook her head and dropped back down onto the pillow. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

“No,” she said. “Thinking about too many things.”

“Me too…”

The two of them lay in silence for several minutes. In the distance, there was the pattering sound of gunfire. It must have been guard trainees practicing. If it had been an attack, the compound would have sounded the emergency alarm. But still, the sound was enough that Julie could sense R stiffen on the floor.

The Grigios lived in the biggest house in the compound. Naturally, since Julie’s dad was the leader and the place doubled as a kind of town hall for the whole community.

The house was quiet tonight. Julie’s dad was still out of the house, called late to a meeting with the other community leaders near the wall. Nora had gone back to her family’s place. At night, the place felt as empty and cavernous as a skull.

Julie turned her head towards the digital clock next to her bed. It was seven past midnight. It was getting late. The night was cool, and the house was getting cold. Julie shivered as a breeze crept through the room. R was still as stone on the floor. If the Dead had any advantage over the Living, it must have been a high tolerance for low temperatures. At least, Julie assumed, given how cold their bodies always were.

Julie turned on her side to face R.

“Are you okay down there?” she asked.

R shook his head.

“You’re not uncomfortable? You don’t have to sleep on the floor this time…”

Again, she shook his head and shrugged. Julie pursed her lips. He was a guest in her home, technically. The rules of hospitality didn’t completely go away just because it was the apocalypse. And she felt like a jerk making him sleep on the floor again.

“You know…” she said. “You could…join me up here if you want. On the bed.”

R’s head turned to face her, his blue eyes widening a little. Julie felt her whole face flush red, and she was thankful it was dark in the bedroom.

“I mean,” she said. “If someone comes in here, we don’t want them to see you on the floor. I mean, my dad could be home any minute, and he’ll probably check on me. If he comes I could hide you under the blanket and pretend you’re a pillow.”

Julie felt her face grow hotter and hotter with each word that spilled from her mouth. She bit her tongue before she could say more. But then R nodded, and he slowly pulled himself onto his feet and stepped closer to the bed.

Julie shifted to the side to make room for him. Another perk of living in one of the bigger, nicer houses in the compound was having the best bedrooms. Julie’s bed was a queen’s size with enough space for two bodies.

R lowered himself flat on his back, his head to the pillow, stiff as a board. The Dead didn’t need sleep, not like the Living did, but since the Dead started dreaming again, perhaps normal sleep could return too.

Except tonight, R didn’t seem interested in sleeping. His eyes flicked from Julie to the window when another pattering of distant gunfire sounded from outside. Julie’s heart sank. She hated seeing him like this. She pressed a gentle hand to his arm. R turned his gaze from the window back to her,

“Don’t be afraid,” she whispered to him. “They do practice rounds like this to scare off any Dead on the outside. They always aim for outside the walls. We’re safe in here,”

At least, for now.

R seemed to relax a little. He nodded and his body eased into the bed. Julie pulled up the rest of the blanket to cover him up. She gave him her best reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “I’m here. I won’t let them get you.”

She said this, even as her ears perked up for any sounds that may come from down the hall, or outside the window, or anywhere:

Surviving the apocalypse made you paranoid. You became hyper-aware of your surroundings. Any sound, any movement, any smell, could mean danger was approaching. That was how it was like for the Living. But Julie never considered if that’s how the Dead felt too. To be wandering with no memories, afraid any moment a bullet could pass through your head, and you would be dead for real this time. She imagined R feeling this way any time he came close to the living, and it made her heart sink.

A cold thumb brushed against Julie’s cheek and she was pulled from her thoughts. R brushed his hand along her cheek and gave her a gentle look.

“Are you…scared…?” he asked.

Julie pursed her lips.

“Yeah, of course I am,” she said. “I’m fucking terrified.” She shifted under the covers. “I’ve been taught to fear the Dead for so long. Now I get a taste of fearing the Living.”

Julie rolled her eyes.

“Not that I should complain,” she said. “If my dad finds out I let you in, he’ll probably lock me in this room and never let me leave again. But if he finds you…”

Julie didn’t need to finish the sentence. She and R were both very aware of how much danger he was in just being in this room. He knew everyone in this compound had their fingers on triggers, and they would be ready to shoot if they saw him.

A brush of cold ran across Julie’s forehead. She lifted her eyes to see R slowly brush a long strand of hair out of her face.

“Keep…you safe…” he said. “Keep…us both…safe…”

Julie grinned. R was always saying that. Back when he saved her from the other Corpses, back when he let her stay in the airplane. He made a promise to help her survive. 

But now it was her turn to return the favor. They were in Living territory now, and she needed to do everything she could to protect him. It was her turn to keep him safe.

Julie gently took his hand in hers and squeezed it. Funny thing, his flesh wasn’t as cold as it used to be. His whole body was warmer, less pale. He started looking more and more human the longer they were together.

“We’ll make this work,” she said. “I don’t know how, but we’re going to figure out what’s going on, and it’ll all be okay.”

The words were meant for R, but Julie knew they were for her too. But could she really believe them? She planned to talk to her father the next day, to see if she could convince him that the Dead really were changing. But her father, like a lot of people, like Perry, had lost hope in a better world a long time again. If she couldn’t persuade him, the only option was to sneak R out of the compound and get him away before anyone could see him.

And if it came to that, Julie would likely never see him again.

The thought sent something cold sinking inside her. The idea that this was the last time she’d ever see him, that this was the last night they would spend together, filled her with dread that she never would have expected. 

The words her father used to describe the Dead echoed through her head: It is uncaring. Unfeeling. Incapable of remorse.

For a long time, Julie believed those words. Corpses were far from any humanity they may have had before. It wasn’t until she met R that her understanding of the Living and the Dead was shattered. R was not the monster everyone thought he was. And according to him, he wasn’t the only one. There was a glimmer of hope. If only she could just get the others to see it.

“Julie…” R ran a hand along her cheek. “What are…you thinking…?”

Julie brought her eyes to his. She couldn’t recall if she’d ever been this physically close to him before. Even back at the airport, even back at the abandoned house, he always kept a respectful distance. Always sleeping a few feet away, to remind her that he wasn’t going to eat her. But now he was so close that he could feel her breath. She could see the veins in his throat. See the small scratches on his face. Feel the cool chill that wafted from his skin.

Julie lifted her head and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was quick, but the second it happened it felt like time turned to butter. R’s lips were frosty cold, but they were softer than what you’d expect from a Corpse. R went quiet and still until Julie pulled away. He looked at her, unblinking, those round blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Julie said. Her face flushed and she dropped her eyes from his. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I just…”

R brought a hand to her chin and lifted her gaze back up to his. His thumb traced along her lips.

“Your lips…” he said. “So…warm…”

Julie stared at him for a moment, something passing between them both before their lips came together again. Julie wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. R circled his arms around her waist and pulled her body close to his. They were hot and cold, and neither could touch the other enough.

Julie could feel the warmth from her own body creeping onto R’s and the sensation made him moan. She wanted to touch him all over, run her hands along him, heating every cold inch of his body. She wanted to take the life force inside of her and put it in him.

“So…warm…” R mumbled into the kiss.

Julie was certainly warm all over. She imagined if she could look at herself now, her skin would be bright pink and supple. Her body was working overtime and she felt hot enough to start sweating.

And then, Julie did something neither of them expected.

She bit his lip.

She did it without thinking. It came out like some primal instinct. Julie’s teeth bit R’s bottom lip for a second until she pulled her face away.

“Sorry,” she said. Then she let out a chuckle. “And here I was worried about you trying to take a bite out of me.”

She tried to play it off like a joke, but that jolt in her body that made her bite him was still rushing through her. And R must have sensed it. He could feel it in the way her teeth had gripped his lip. He was giving her a look that was hard to decipher. 

Then, he moved his head closer and pressed his lips to hers again. Julie felt her body go warm and limp. She rolled onto her back and R’s lips sunk deeper into hers. Her hands reached up to his face, then up into his hair. A soft, low moan escaped her throat and she thought she would melt.

Julie was only in her pajamas, which consisted of just a blue t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. R pressed his hand to her stomach, then slid down the front seam of her shorts. The sensation sent shivers and goosebumps along Julie’s body, then she gasped as R slipped his fingers inside her.

Julie shivered at the two icy fingers gliding slowly inside her. If R had any experience with this, it must have left his memory after he died. His fingers moved slowly, hesitant, like he was afraid he might hurt her. But Julie felt a rush of pleasure jolt through her body as his fingers worked inside her. 

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, releasing a moan from her lips. R used his free hand to wrap around her back and hold her close. His fingers moved deeper into her, massaging over her clit. Julie bit her lip to keep herself from moaning louder.

“Does that…feel good…?”

R’s dirty talk wasn’t exactly scintillating. Being dead didn’t leave one very articulate to begin with. But Julie didn’t care. All she cared about was his body pressed against hers and his cold but steady fingers working the inside of her pussy. She bit her lip and nodded.

“Uh huh,” she breathed. She gripped his arm. “Keep going.”

R nodded and kept his hand moving. Julie shifted her hips, taking his wrist and moving his hand so it was perfectly pressed over her sweet spot.

“Right there,” she told him. He pressed down where she instructed, and the shock of pleasure was so intense that Julie let out a small cry. “Yeah, right there.”

She clasped an arm around R’s shoulder, pulling him closer to her. She moaned in his ear as his hand pleasured her between her legs. His cold lips brushed against her neck, and he planted small kisses along her flesh. His icy touch sent delicious shivers down her spine.

All of a sudden, Julie felt a rush of heat rising inside her. She was just about to climax when she clasped R’s wrist. He stopped and looked at her.

“What?” he asked.

She heard something. And it wasn’t just in her head this time. There was a loud creak as a pair of heavy boots made their way up the stairs.

“Shit, it’s my dad,” Julie said.

Worst of all, he was heading towards her room. His footsteps were heading right in the direction of her bedroom. Julie turned to R and put a finger to her lips.

“Stay quiet,” she said.

Julie grabbed the duvet and pulled it over both their heads. She crawled on top of R, straddling him so he was right beneath her. She pushed him down deeper under the covers, pressed her head to the pillow, and closed her eyes. R went stiff as a board beneath, concealed by the duvet.

The bedroom door creaked open and a long orange light from the hall passed over Julie’s face. She squeezed her eyes against the light then opened them. Her father’s lumbering silhouette hovered by the door. Julie tried to steady her heart, her body hyper-aware of the boy hiding right beneath her.

“Julie,” her father whispered. “Are you awake?”

“I am now,” Julie said, in her best annoyed-teenager voice. She rubbed her eyes against the light accosting her eyes. “Something wrong? Are we evacuating? I didn’t hear the alarms.”

“No,” he said. “I just came by to check on you. The leaders’ meeting is running longer than expected. We’re going to evaluate the outer walls, so we may be out until morning.”

“Okay.”

“I just wanted to let you know, since that means you’ll be alone in the house for the rest of the night.”

“Well then, duly noted.” 

Julie turned and pressed her head back onto the pillow. She waited to hear the door closed, to hear her father’s footsteps disappear down the hall. But the light from the door streaked the wall, and she could feel him standing there. She could feel his eyes boring at her.

“Are you hiding something under the blanket?” he asked.

Julie’s stomachs lurched. Her brain scrambled for an explanation.

“Nora was here earlier,” Julie said quickly. “She lent me some more pillows. I think I may need a new mattress.”

She closed her eyes shut, willing her father to leave. He was quiet for a moment, then she heard his hand clasp the doorknob.

“Well, we’ll look into it tomorrow,” he said. “Get some sleep. Stay inside. Alert me if there’s anything suspicious. Your phone still works, right?”

“Yes, it does.”

“You have my number ready?”

“Yes, dad. I promise I’m safe. I’ll call you if anyone gets in.”

Julie felt R shift slightly beneath her. She moved her hand and pressed it to his chest, pinning him in place.

“Alright then,” her father said. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

“Night, Dad.”

Her father paused for a moment, then slowly closed the door. As he did, a small sound escaped R’s throat. Julie’s father paused just before the door closed. Julie held her breath and moved her hand to cover R’s mouth.

“Did you say something?” her father asked.

“No,” Julie said. Her heart quickened in her ear. “It’s my stomach. I forgot to grab some dinner.”

“Well, there’s some fresh fruit downstairs. Do you want me to bring you some?”

“No,’ Julie said. “I’ll get it myself in a minute. Go ahead, dad. The team needs you.”

Her father paused, nodded, then finally shut the door. Julie held her breath and closed her eyes as his footsteps disappeared down the hall and down the stairs. The front door to the house creaked open, closed shut, then the metal lock slid into place. Julie waited for several minutes once he was gone. After what felt like ten minutes, she released her breath and opened her eyes.

Julie glanced one last time over her shoulder, then tossed the blanket up from R’s face.

“Is he…gone?” R asked.

“Yeah,” Julie said. “He’s leaving for the perimeter. He won’t be back until morning.”

Julie looked down at him and smiled. She straightened her back and straddled on top of him, her knees to his hips.

“Which means I get to have you for the rest of the night,” she said.

Even in the dark, Julie saw a small smile quirk onto R’s face. She leaned her face down and pressed her lips to his. His hands gripped her hips, cold fingers pressing into her burning flesh.

Normally at this moment, Julie would have searched for some protection in her bedside drawer. It’s what she always did with Perry. But then she remembered that the Corpses couldn’t even bleed, so that likely wasn’t a concern.

Death, Julie thought to herself. The best birth control.

But that’s when Julie realized something. She unlocked her lips from R’s and sat up.

“Wait,” she said. “R…you don’t bleed…” Corpses don’t bleed. No blood blowing through their veins. “Can you…”

Julie blushed and glanced down right at his hips where she straddled him. She glanced back up at him, and his face dropped and he shook his head.

“The Dead…” he said. “We can’t…”

Of course they couldn’t. The dead couldn’t bleed, didn’t have heartbeats. The most they could do was talk and make noises. Bodies like theirs didn’t work like those of the Living.

Julie sighed.

“God, I’m so stupid,” she said. “I forgot you…no blood in your body means…”

Just seconds ago, Julie was ready to do all kinds of dirty things to R. Now saying the words out loud made her blush. She couldn’t have sex with R if his own bloodless body couldn’t…prepare him for it.

This was embarrassing. Julie was about to slip off of R when he gripped her hips, holding her in place. She looked down at him.

“R,” she said. “What are you…”

In a swift moment, R rolled his body over so Julie was on the mattress and he was on top. It was so sudden and unexpected for a Corpse that Julie let out a yelp, Her back bounced on the mattress, her knees still pressed to R’s hips.

“R,” Julie said. “What is this…”

R’s eyes were lowered down between them.

“I…can’t…” he said. He lifted his eyes back to hers. “But you can.”

Before Julie could ask what he meant, R slid his hand down the front of her shorts again. Julie gasped as that cold hand met her lady parts again.

“Still…wet…” he said.

Julie couldn’t deny it. Her body was still burning, raging, demanding to be satisfied after too many interruptions. She wanted R, and she would have him, Corpse biology be damned. 

R’s eyes glazed down her body, from her face down to where his hand clasped between her thighs. His cold touch sent shivers up her body, but it only made Julie hungrier.  R lifted his hand from her shorts, then touched his lips. Julie caught the tip of his tongue and traced his fingers.

“Do you…want me to…?”

R was looking at her with those eyes, the rest of the question hanging in the air. Julie nodded with no hesitation.

“Yes,” she said. “Please.”

She was breathless. Her body was begging for release. She moaned as R pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her mouth. Then her jaw. Then down her neck. Then her collar. Julie tipped her head back on the pillow and moaned as R planted cold kisses down her body.

His hands fumbled for the front of her shorts.

“Can I…?” he mumbled into her neck.

“Yes,” Julie moaned. “Please.”

R took the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down. He held her while she kicked the shorts off onto the floor. Julie pushed him away for a second to pull off her shirt. She tossed it onto the floor, leaving her in only a mismatched white bra and blue panties.

R straightened up and let his red hoodie fall from his shoulders. His eyes kept grazing her up and down.

Julie hooked her thumbs into the seam of her underwear, then pulled them down. A cold brush of air sent goosebumps down her body, but she was too distracted to notice. She tossed her underwear on the floor. R’s eyes were wide and locked on her body. His lips parted and he traced his gaze up to her.

Julie smiled, bit her bottom lip, then gave him a look. 

“You turn,” she teased.

Now it was R’s turn to bite his lip. He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. It wasn’t exactly a sexy striptease, but Julie didn’t care. The fabric rolled up his torso, and Julie caught a sliver of his stomach. R wasn’t exactly ripped, but it was enough to make Julie hungrier. She giggled as R struggled to pull the shirt over his head.

“Need help?” she asked.

R shook his head, but the shirt remained stuck on his head. Julie shifted down the bed and sat up straight. She grabbed the shirt and pulled it the rest of the way up his head. R was deathly pale and cold under those layers, a stark contrast to Julie’s pink and warm flesh. Julie grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a kiss.

The two of them fell backward onto the bed. Skin to skin, there were no inhibitions left. The kiss grew deeper, hungrier. Then, R moved his lips to her cheek. Then her jaw. Then her neck. Down her chest just over her heart, then down her stomach. He shifted down until his knees were on the floor right at the edge of the bed. 

R pressed a kiss at the top of her thigh, then started kissing down. Despite his cold touch sending goosebumps across her body, he was so gentle that Julie felt euphoric. She opened her legs and pressed her heels into the mattress. She could feel how wet she was down there, and R moaned deep in his throat, like he could smell her.

Julie expected him to start right away, but R must have not been done with her yet. He pressed his lips just below her knee, then began kissing down her inner thigh. Julie let out a loud moan and threw her head back on the pillow. His lips felt so good trailing down closer to her clit. He wasn’t even aware of how much of a tease this was, how badly it made her want to shove it right in his mouth.

Then, she felt his lips brush right at her entrance. She heard a low mmm from his throat. It was an enticed, hungry sound. The sound one makes right before a meal.

That’s when Julie realized what she was about to do, and her heart lurched in her chest. Her head snapped up from the pillow. All she could see was the top of the head of the Corpse right between her thighs.

R must have sensed her, because he lifted his head from her waist.

“Are you…scared…?” he asked.

R was looking at her with those big, blue eyes. Julie knew what he was really trying to ask. Getting this close to a Corpse always came with risks. R was better at self-restraint than most Corpses. But even then, it was risky to think what could happen if his mouth came that close to her flesh.

Julie shook her head. She’d lived through the apocalypse. She learned long ago that being afraid was a luxury few could afford anymore. Besides, she wasn’t afraid of R.

“No,” she said. She dropped her head back, her golden hair sprawling across the bed. “Do it.”

R nodded, then pressed his lips to the flesh just below her other knee. He began kissing slowly, gently, down her inner thigh.

“Don’t want…to hurt you…” he mumbled into her flesh. He said it like a promise. And Julie believed it. His lips on her thigh were so gentle, so sweet, that Julie let her head fall back when a loud moan escaped her lips.

R kissed down until he was at her entrance. She smelled heavenly and her moans of pleasure were music to his ears. She was wet and hot and begging for release. He traced his tongue around her clit, and Julie let out a sharp exhale.

R lifted his head.

“Do you…want me to…stop?”

Julie shook her head.

“No,” she breathed. “Don’t you dare stop.”

With those instructions, R pressed his mouth to her clit and shoved his tongue inside her. Julie let out a loud gasp.

“R,” she gasped.

Fuck, he was better at this than she expected. His tongue made long, slow motion around and inside her. He was more than just tasting her, he was savoring her. Hungry, ravenous.

Like a meal.

The thought crossed Julie’s mind for a second and then evaporated as another wave of pleasure swept up her body. There were no teeth, no bite, to what R was doing. He made low, groaning sounds deep in his throat, but Julie felt no gnawing pain. Only warm waves of pleasure lapping up her body.

For a moment, Julie considered how similar making love to someone was to consuming them. Then R pressed his tongue deeper inside, and the shock of pleasure was so intense that she gripped his hair with both hands.

She kept waiting for him to pause and come up for air. But then she remembered that the Dead don’t breathe. So he kept going and going, his tongue hungrily lapping her up without stopping. It was overwhelming. No breaks or pauses, so the pleasure kept coming and never stopped

R moaned as his tongue explored inside her. He admitted, there was a part of him that was tempted to take a bite of her leg right then. Her flesh smelled fantastic. It was like licking one’s food without being able to eat it. So much goodness just at the tip of his tongue.

But he restrained himself. R didn’t like killing anyone, but especially not Julie. Besides, just tasting her like this was almost enough to satiate him. He just wanted this moment to last forever. The two of them are so close together, him making her happy, her delighted noises filling his ears.

Suddenly, her fingers balled into a fist, tightening her grip on his hair.

“R,” she gasped. “I think I’m…”

Yes, she was. R could feel it, the way her body grew hotter, how much wetter she was. He groaned deep in his throat as his tongue worked deeper, harder, inside her. He gripped both her thighs with his hands to keep them from snapping close around his head.

Julie’s moans grew louder and more desperate. Her hands gripped his hair and she rose into a melting climax. Her voice rang off the walls, for a moment, anyone in the compound could have heard them, but neither of them cared.

R licked a little longer after Julie finished until her fingers loosened on his hair. He kissed her inner thigh one last time then straightened up on his knees. His lips were dripping wet. She tasted fantastic, his tongue licked away at the residue on his mouth. 

He looked at Julie, who was still a warm puddle on the bed.

“J…Julie…” he said.

Julie glanced up to look at him, then leaned forward and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. She pulled him into a kiss. R stumbled forward on top of her as the kiss deepened. She gripped him by his shoulders and ran her hands up his neck to his hair. She came up for air just long enough to look him in the eye. She was breathless.

“That was amazing,” she said. Then she chuckled. “I guess the Dead do know how to eat, huh?”

R felt a smile creep into his face. He pressed his forehead against hers.

After a few minutes, R sank onto the bed next to her. Julie nuzzled close to him, her head buried in his chest. R wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. She felt light as a feather in his arms. She wasn’t just warm, she was…glowing.

“I think I love you, R,” she mumbled into his chest, just where his heart would be. 

And at that moment, R felt a flutter in his chest. He had felt it once or twice before since he met Julie. Now he not only felt it, it seemed to linger right there in his chest.

R held her close and pressed his face into the top of her blonde head.

“Love you…Julie…” he said.

Julie smiled and nuzzled her face in his chest. Just outside the window, there were sounds of voices, of footsteps, of men speaking in low voices and practice rounds firing in the distance.

But deep inside the Grigio house, it was quiet except for two heartbeats sleeping beside each.

[megaanra]

steddie fluff piece

the first time they see each other after vecna

steve has a moustache (i believe in hairy steve harrington supremacy)

when steve leaves high school, he decided to stop shaving. i mean, there’s no point now that he’s not swimming competitively. and he’s too focused on saving enough money to leave this god awful town to bother with something so trivial.

after vecna, he doesn’t think about the fact he hasn’t shaved his face in weeks. he’s got other worries, like finding a new job after keith fired him, helping the byers move back into town, and making sure the kids are safe. he practically takes them everywhere, especially because eddie is still recovering in the hospital.

eddie and steve had gotten closer over spring break, sharing secret looks and touches when no one was looking. steve held eddie when he was scared and eddie tended to steve’s wounds, knowing he wouldn’t bother to do it himself. so when steve saw eddies body laying on the floor surrounded by dead bats, his heart was in his throat as he ran to him. and despite robin and nancy insisting on leaving eddie there, insisting on him being dead, steve wouldn’t accept it. eddie wouldn’t do that, not to dustin, not to him. not when they had just started something so special. so he carried him out of that place and took him to the hospital, ignoring the biting pain of his own wounds to ensure eddie was safe from any monsters or people who may hurt him.

steve was only able to see him once, for a brief moment, when he was dropping dustin off to visit for the day. eddie has only been allowed limited visitors and since steve didn’t know him too well before the incident, he decided it was better for his actual friends to see him.

it was safe to say that the corroded coffin guys were very confused about why steve hung around the hospital so much despite never actually seeing eddie. at one point they thought that he was trying to hurt their friend, but wayne assured them otherwise. he saw something within steve and knew, without a doubt, that he cared for his boy deeply. that was proven when dustin told him that steve was the once to rescue eddie.

so when eddie finally leaves the hospital, steve goes over to the trailer to visit while wayne is at work. obviously just to check on the guy, make sure he’s healing well. definitely not because he missed him….

he walks in after knocking quietly, worried eddie may be sleeping. but no, there he is, sat on the couch, a cozy blanket wrapped around him. steve thinks that eddie looks so cute, his hair in a bun and his fringe (bangs?) sticking up everywhere. for a moment he’s just staring at him, taking in his beauty.

eddie is just as speechless, staring at steve intently. he knew that steve was the one that saved him, but he never expected him to be the first one to visit him now that he’s out of the hospital. to be honest, eddie wasn’t sure steve cared for him at all, despite what they shared. secretly, he was worried that it wasn’t as serious for steve, that he was an experiment.

but that’s not why eddie was staring. rather, eddie was looking at the stubble that covered steve’s face and the great moustache that covers his upper lip. now don’t get it twisted, eddie KNEW that steve was attractive. i mean, he had a crush on the guy for years! but god, the addition of a moustache on his perfect face almost makes eddies (already weak) knees buckle. he doesn’t think he could utter a word even if he wanted to.

steve breaks the eye contact, placing down the bag of groceries he brought over. it snaps eddie out of his trance, causing him to shift his eyes away from steve’s face.

unfortunately, they seem to land on his ass as he bends. eddie cursed himself internally and adjusts the blanket subtly.

before he can even think about his words, eddie mutters “jesus harrington, give a guy a break. i almost die and now you’re here trying to give me a heart attack.”

steve’s face flushes red and he smiles shyly. “did you miss me, eds?”

eddies grin widens and steve walks over to him, sitting next to him on the couch. eddie wraps his arms around steve’s neck, wary of his still healing torso.

“more than you can imagine, stevie” he whispers.

and later, when eddie has healed a little and their relationship gets more serious, eddie learns of all the other places steve doesn’t shave….. ;)

[rassvetsky]

Completely

bucky barnes x reader

"Being one of the few people Bucky Barnes trusted meant having to babysit Alpine when he's away. Luckily for you, Alpine was one hell of a listener and you were sure she got that from her dad."

[1k] | fluff alpine being cute, sappy bucky, friends to lovers kinda? written seconds after a mental breakdown while drunk so enjoy

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

You didn't feel guilty making yourself at home on Bucky's mattress, the cup of coffee you've prepared for yourself sitting graciously on the nightstand as you grabbed your phone from where it was charging. He barely ever slept in proper places anyway, preferring the floor like a kicked puppy and it made your heart clench each time, but not like you could tell him what to do with his own life.

Alpine was already seated on the soft sheets, her soft purr warming up the room, big eyes squinted in a sleepy gaze. She basically threw herself on your palm when you reached to pet her, soft white fur bringing a smile to your lips with the way it felt under your fingertips as you heaved a sigh.

"Your dad's kinda psychotic, you know that?" you hummed, chuckling to yourself a little afterwards. "Why get a mattress this comfy if you're never going to use it?" and she looked up at you like she understood, before letting a yawn out and slowly approaching you on the bed, temptative steps leading her up to your stomach where she decided to lay on. "You're gonna sleep there?" you snickered. "Alright, that's new. Somebody loves me." and although you were facing her butt and she was facing the other side of the room, you could still feel the love.

"Wish your dad was affective like you, though." you spoke, softly. "Not expecting much, he's stoic as hell anyway but… I don't ever understand what he's feeling, you know? What he's thinking about. Sometimes he's just gazing at me like I'm something a lot more than just a friend who babysits his cat and sometimes he's staring at me like he wants me dead. Can't really tell," your fingers carded through her fur, head tilted a bit in thought. "Really hope it's not the latter, though. I won't stand a chance."

Little did you know then, that Bucky was already home, having stepped inside as quietly as he could since it was a bit late at night, not wanting to wake you if you were asleep. Frowning a bit upon hearing your voice, his steps led him to the door of the bedroom, as he stood by the frame to tell if you were on the phone or had anybody over.

"I like the guy, actually. I think you take a lot after him, Alpine." your soft hum got the cat to purr even louder as she laid her head on your lap. "I think deep down in there, he's just really… Sensitive. Sometimes he remembers the smallest details about something I told him months ago and suddenly- suddenly I feel like he's out there in the sky, hanging the stars for me, you know?" you sighed. "So cruel of him to make me feel that way and then… Not do anything about it."

Bucky felt his heart twist, leaning on the door frame with a faint smile by his lips.

"And sometimes- yep, there we go," you chuckled when she got off your lap, just to find a spot to lay on right next to you. "Knew that wouldn't last long. Anyway, as I was saying- I think, um, I think we almost kissed this weekend. It was the key handing-over ceremony, at that pub that he often goes to- we… Maybe I'm reading too much into it."

Her purring got a bit more quiet, as if she was on the verge of falling asleep. "But we… We definitely hugged too long. And then for a moment I swear- He just went in for the lips and pulled back right before they could touch and… I almost died, Alpine. Thank fucking God he rushed out after that because I almost had a heart attack."

Your touch on her head was as soft as it could get. "Now that I think about it, you and I are quite similar. He's your whole world. And I think… He's slowly becoming mine, too."

That's when Alpine perked up, and had you following her gaze to the door.

That's when you saw him, arms folded on his chest with Alpine rushing to his feet, just to purr and nuzzle against the material of his jeans.

That's when you noticed the way he was smiling so bright that it was suddenly morning again for you.

"Please don't tell me. I don't wanna know for how long you've been there."

"Long enough," he replied, shrugging before long strides took him next to you, to sit by the edge of the bed and shake his head. "Sorry. Should've let you know that I was home."

"Yeah, you-" you couldn't find the words, suddenly. Pushing yourself up, you re-positioned yourself until you were sitting right next to him. "You really should've. But don't be sorry- I'm sorry."

"The only reason you should apologize is that you were telling all that stuff to Alpine," he spoke, in a tone so gentle that it could lull you to sleep right there and then. "While you could've told me. And for the record, I really wanted to kiss you that night. So bad."

"Really?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he snickered. "You're already my world. Completely."

[nctsworld]

completely floored

✩ jeno x reader | best friends to lovers | fluff | smut | 1.5k

SUMMARY | who knew gaming on the floor like you two used to could change everything between you and your best friend? WARNINGS | smut, floor s*x, oral s*x (m receiving) RATING | mature PROMPT | staring at each other’s lips for a moment before giving in REQ BY | anonymous

AUTHOR’S NOTE | bless up for the boring jalapeno teasers to give me inspo and i’ve been wanting to write jeno for a long time so hehe i also haven’t played uno in forever sorry if there’s anything off

In Jeno’s basement rental suite, you two are sitting comfortably near each other on his carpeted floor, playing Halo together with your backs leaning against his worn-down sofa. 

“You doing okay?” Jeno asks with care, glancing over at your side of the TV screen where you’re blatantly struggling to stay alive from the onslaught of enemies. His gaze then falls on you for a second. 

“Yep, doing great,” you singsong, sarcasm laced in your tone. He catches sight of you sticking out your tongue in frustration.

Jeno’s not sure why the expression from you comes off more cute to him than usual. He smiles to himself in amusement and turns his attention back to the game.

It’s been about six months since you’ve last hung out one on one with him. Third year of university has been busy for both of you, but you’ve managed to find some free time now that finals were finally over this semester. 

And it feels exactly like old times from high school when you two used to sit on the floor at his parents’ house, gaming until the sun rose.

But things have definitely changed since then.

Like how gorgeous Jeno has gotten.

When you unsurprisingly die and have to wait to respawn until Jeno plows through the current batch of enemies, you waste your time in noticing his chiseled jaw line, the sexiness in his confident grin, and the raw attractiveness that exudes from him. 

You shake your thoughts away, attributing them to how you probably just missed hanging out with him, along with the fact that you’ve been single for way too long. 

After a couple more rounds of Halo, Uno replaces it as the next game of choice. Still on the floor, you’re now facing each other. About a few feet apart from you, Jeno has a leg pulled nearby to his chest, his arm resting on his raised knee. On the flipside, you’re sitting with lax legs bent onto their sides, parallel to the carpet. 

The early rounds of Uno are peaceful, but as it progresses, playful competitiveness emerges. The game shifts drastically when Jeno suddenly plays a handful of draw four cards. 

Your jaw swings open, shocked that he held onto so many for so long, and you complain about the unfairness of the situation. Smugly, Jeno shrugs and retorts back that’s simply how the game works. 

Twisting your mouth to one side and squinting your eyes, you then drop your cards in a teasing state of anger and launch yourself towards him. Your best friend merely laughs as you attempt to punch him in the arm. 

However, things take an unexpected turn. You lose balance and accidentally topple him down towards the carpet, your chest pressing atop of his.

Your faces are inches apart from one another. You’re both heavily breathing, practically inhaling the other’s air.

Each parties’ eyes flickers towards the other’s lips. Your gaze lingers longer than it should and you reprimand yourself because this is your best friend—your drop, dead gorgeous best friend who is looking at your lips with the same craving. 

Chest to chest, your hearts race together, pounding against the other almost in sync. Carefully, with a gulp, Jeno gently palms your cheek. Your eyelids flutter to a close.

Lips meet and collide, and you lay your hands on the planes of his chest. You’ve always felt safe around Jeno, but you’ve never felt more safe with him than like this. 

Soon enough, the kissing escalates, transforming into ones that drip of neediness and burning desire. Your touches dig deeper into each other. Throughout it, your shirt is thrown aside and you quickly attach yourself back onto him to help him rid of his layers.

Marking his body with a trail of hot kisses, you slowly make your descent towards his significantly hard desire. Seeing him shirtless is nothing new, but now that you have him up-close and all to yourself, you traverse his beauty without hurry. 

Peeking up at him when you reach his abs, you see him looking right back with an intent, ravenous stare. Because you’re not used to it, you feel a tingle in your cheeks and brush some hair behind your ear as you continue your trek.

Once at your destination, you strip him of his jeans and brief-boxers. Gasping silently at the sight, his sizable cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. You lick your lips, wanting his length immediately in your mouth. Instead, you restrain yourself and leave feathery kisses upon it.

Jeno sighs at the minimal sensation, his erection twitching in yearning for more. His sighs melt, replaced by sharp gasps and the ruffling of eyebrows as you devour him whole. For what you can’t engulf with your mouth, you pump with your hand.

“God...” he pants, eyeing you closely with with his hands behind his head, bare arms flexing delectably. Saliva begins to pool around his base as you suck endlessly. He peels a hand away and runs his fingers through your hair. “You’re so beautiful.” 

Coming up for air, you chuckle as you stroke him steadily. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked you off.” 

“No.” Jeno strongly disagrees, a stern glimmer obvious in his eye. Shaking his head, he rises onto his forearms and leans in right up to your face. 

Your best friend whispers the following into your mouth as he rubs his thumb tenderly over your cheek—

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful.” 

Another kiss, but this time, lips are crashing fiercely, like it’s the last time you’d ever kiss anybody. Jeno caresses your upper body and similarly, your hand continues to squeeze and jerk him off. Impatiently, you stand to hurriedly remove your bra and tug your bottoms off. 

Jeno’s tongue drags along his lower jaw when you rush to your purse to grab a condom; he watches attentively at the perfect view of your ass.

You scuttle back and ease the rubber onto him, and within seconds, you’re sitting on his length. Once he’s completely inside, an acute throaty moan pierces the room and your head cranes back. You’ve never had anyone fill you up so full before, and yet, it doesn’t take much time to acclimatize to his girth.

Riding him, you bounce relentlessly with your weight on your knees and your hands graze his upper frame. You’re gone, blinded by ecstasy, but Jeno’s hazy look doesn’t stray from you. 

His pretty fingers glide upward over your stomach, then over your breasts. At first, he thumbs your nipples to play with you prior to kneading them hungrily in their entirety.

Without warning, Jeno seizes your back with one hand and brings himself up, snatching your breasts into his mouth. 

“Fuck, Jeno,” you exhale in pleasure, sinking your nails into his flexed back and shoulders. “What are we doing?” 

“Do you wanna stop?” he asks between the snug puckering of his lips around your nubs. 

“No, no,” you immediately reply, shaking your head profusely. “You feel too fucking good...” 

When he’s finished loving your breasts, you gesture for him to lean back down during a kiss. Like before when you fell on him in the beginning, your chests are glued together again, this time now sans clothes. 

Your lips maneuver over to his neck, attacking him with kisses, and you fuck him with the your ass jutting out. The wet slaps of your sexes intermingling, Jeno’s panting, and your whines penetrate your surroundings.

“I’m close, I’m close...” he says, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in timing for what’s about to happen. 

Dragging yourself away from his neck, you kiss him fervently while you fasten your pace. He moans into your mouth as he unravels, his sweaty palms relaxing against your perspired back. You follow right after, practically reaching your peaks together.

After a few moments, you roll off and lay beside him. Both of you pant towards the ceiling in disbelief. The disbelief that runs through you is immersed with an underlying fear. 

“Maybe I should get going...” you say unsurely, sitting up and looking at your clothes at the other side of the floor. 

Just because you’ve had sex with him, it doesn’t mean Jeno still isn’t your best friend, nor does it rid of the fact that he knows your change of emotions like the back of his hand. He sits up too, warmly wraps an arm around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your nude arm. 

“How about one more game?” he mumbles into your skin. 

“Which game?” you whisper curiously.

One more peck, this time on your cheek. 

“The game called Stay the Night.”

Your head turns to face him, gazes converging. He flashes you his saccharine smile, his eyes following suit and smiling as well.

“Can’t play it without you, but only if you want to.” He rubs the tip of his nose against yours, causing you to giggle. “What do you say?” 

You get lost in his eyes, realizing that maybe you’ve always had something for Jeno, whether you were conscious of it or not.

Despite it all, you know your feelings aren’t unrequited. They can’t be, not with the way he’s looking at you as if you’re his entire world right now. 

In response to his proposition, you lean in for another kiss. It’s definitely not the last kiss you give him tonight. 

Not by a long shot.

[whirlybirbs]

         (  chapter 6′s gif by @buckysbarnes​​ from this lovely set !  )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  6/?

summary: gunshot wounds, panic attacks, and evil next door neighbors.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 5.3k, a filler before the real sexual tension.

a/n: be warned, this chapter has a diy medical procedure where bucky removes the slug from rabbit’s shoulder. it’s nothing too graphic, but keep that in mind! also, i wanted to say thank you to everyone who has rec’d, reblogged, commented, kudos, liked, looked at this fic. the response to every chapter has been so overwhelmingly kind and i’m so thankful that i have the oppurtunity to share this fic with you all. that being said, i broke this chapter up. next week has some spice. ;-)

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Bucky wakes up with a headache that feels like someone’s tapped an icepick between his eyes. A fire-bright burn radiates under his ribs.

It’s a slow creep back to reality — he just lays there and stares at the peeling wallpaper that meets the corner of the ceiling for a while, knowing deep in the back of his muddled, confused thoughts that he most likely has a nasty concussion, maybe a few broken ribs.

How? Hm. Fighting. Music? The club.

Rabbit.

He sits up fast and Bucky’s blue eyes struggle to adjust in the low-light of the scarcely furnished apartment. The searing pang of his headache is enough to make his stomach churn, but he’s had worse. So much worse. This is manageable. So, he swallows down the nausea and looks around the room like a wounded animal — and almost immediately, relief greets him at the sight of you in the armchair across from the couch.

Your hair is a mess, falling from it’s previous style that you’d proudly worn to The Glass Cannon. Your lipstick is smeared, there’s glitter on your cheeks, and your make-up has transitioned from starlet beauty to broken-hearted bombshell. Bucky notices, with a bit of dismay, that you’re even missing an earring. There’s a nasty bruise forming along the peak of your cheekbone and a gash there from when Alexei had cracked you across the face with the pistol — and even despite all this, Bucky can feel his heart clench at the sight of you. A good clench. The sort that makes his heart kick into a stutter step.

You look… well, you look like someone who’d had the shit choked out of them and then was shot.

Shot.

Your jacket, punched clean through with the single bullet hole, is hanging over the back of the chair and there’s gauze taped to your shoulder. You’re leaning your good cheek in your hand, attention turned totally to Bucky, where you’ve fallen asleep. From here, you’re a picture of exhaustion.

Anxiety flashes in his heart and he swings his legs over the edge of the couch.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy.”

It’s the woman from before, Kiwi, and she’s got an ice pack in her hands. It’s wrapped in a ratty, green dish towel, and she hands it off to Bucky with a pitiful little look. Rounding the couch, Bucky finally gets a better look at her.

She’s older than you, maybe by a handful of years, but sharp and beautiful nonetheless. Her hair is dark as night and the tips are drenched in a lime colored dye. Her eyes are dark, too, ringed by kohl and glitter, and Bucky wonders if he’s ever seen her before.

“You heal quick,” she says quietly as she plops down into the chair across the room. On a makeshift desk, there’s a laptop, “Care to explain how you know our dear friend Rabbit here?”

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Again, his eyes fall on your sleeping form.

He maneuvers the ice pack in his hands, then gently presses it to his ribs. He melts a bit, ignoring the evident tears in the silk shirt. He feels bad — he’d busted some of the seams in the midst of the brutal scuffle and it seems like this artifact of Jaimie’s was most likely beyond salvation.

His dog tags jingle against his chest.

“Therapy,” Bucky croaks, “We, uh, we met in therapy.”

A new voice comes into the picture now, one that’s muffled by a mouthful of food.

“That’s cute.”

It’s the other one, Climber. He’s traded in his all-black, all-polyurethane outfit for an expensive looking t-shirt. Without the strobes, without the tunnel vision, Bucky can now see the intricate buzz cut that sits beneath the mountain of blue curls on his head. There are patterns buzzed into his tight-shave. He’s got a smile, too, the glimmers a little too artificially. Bucky spies crystals inset on his incisors between bites of what looks like a bowl of cereal with no milk. Spoon and all.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met,” Climber says as he plops down next to Bucky on the couch, “What’d you say your name was?”

A hand is jutted his way. Bucky blinks. He shakes it with his vibranium hand.

“I’m Bucky.”

“Well, I’m gay and you’re gorgeous,” he says candidly, giving it a good shake, “So, if that’s of any interest—”

“Can you please shut up, Climber?” comes an irritated rasp from you in your armchair. Bucky turns to watch as you raise your head and rub your eyes, “Christ, I just fell asleep.”

“And your little supersoldier just woke up,” Kiwi chirps from her preoccupation with the laptop and contents on it, “So why don’t you stop being a little baby and let him look at that gunshot wound.”

Bucky’s face falls flat. He drops the ice pack to the coffee table with a thwunk.

You sit up, gingerly trying to maneuver yourself so as to not bother both your ribs and your shoulder. It takes a moment, but finally you’re sitting up with only a dull ache of pain throbbing beneath your skin. Now, the real sting comes from the bitter look Bucky has pinned you with.

“You haven’t cleaned it yet?”

“The shits in the kitchen,” Kiwi waves at Bucky, as if to say told you so, “She fuckin’ refused to let me take care of it.”

“You’re going to get an infection if it stays in you any longer,” he snaps, standing to his feet, “Get up.”

“Kiwi isn’t exactly the most gentle person I know,” you manage to supply as an excuse as you move through the room, “And I know that thing isn’t coming out without a fight.”

He can feel the grey hairs coming in already.

You stand slowly, and Bucky looms behind you as you weave into the small apartment’s kitchen.

It’s barely lived in, but a few years ago it most definitely had life. Now, it’s mostly abandoned save for a few necessities. Kiwi had told you, a long time ago, about this spot — it was her parent’s place before the Snap. After the Blip, they ended up moving back to Massachusetts. Now abandoned by anyone seeking to really live in the one bedroom, it sits collecting dust until Kiwi inevitably needs it.

Like now.

“Up on the counter.”

You wince at his tone, but still thankful to be away from Kiwi and Climber’s prying eyes.

For the entire time Bucky had been out, you’d been subjected to a myriad of questions — all were fair, really, since Bucky did just bust out the Avenger-level super-moves on some Russian mafiosos for your sake, vibranium arm and all. The arm was really the biggest stuck point in the conversation as you tried your best to explain the nature of your relationship with the unconscious supersoldier on the couch. It was met with plenty of looks, both curious and skeptical.

You’re slow to hop up on the dusty marble countertop. From there, you watch Bucky poke through the kit that Kiwi had pulled from under the sink.

Then, with the calculated process of a man who has pulled one too many bullets from himself, Bucky slams the kit shut and wanders into the bathroom.

He returns with a pair of large tweezers. He’s silent as the dead as he rummages for a pan, fills it with water, and sets the gas burner on. He stares, watching the pot boil, as his foot taps against the floor.

You swallow down any comments.

There’s a clean towel beside you, and Bucky casually reached into the boiling water with his vibranium hand to retrieve the tweezers — whether or not he purposely ignored the pain is lost on you. You’re too busy anxiously spiraling into silence.

(He’s trying to ground himself, to feel something other than panic. It’s a mild spike, but it’s still panic. Because you’re hurt. Because you still have a fucking casing lodged in your shoulder and he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. Because he saw it happen and then it was black, and now that anxiousness is creeping in.)

Rubbing alcohol, tweezers, gauze, tape, and… Jack Daniel’s.

It’s from the top of the fridge. It’s got a layer of dust on it — and it’s unopened.

Bucky unceremoniously pops the cap and hands the open bottle to you.

You take it and pause.

Bucky’s gaze is cold.

“You’re gonna want to take a few swigs, Doll.”

You almost snarl. You take a long drink then, ignoring the burn of the whiskey down your throat. It’s only when you’ve had enough to nearly gag that you hand the bottle back and then hiss:

“Don’t call me Doll.”

He takes the bottle and unceremoniously slams it down on the counter.

His movements are rough as he washes his hands — and if Bucky was a better person, maybe he’d take a second and parse through why he was feeling so damn irritable. But, no, no, he could figure out that he was angry at himself and you and Alexei Gardzov and Innessa Sidrova and fucking… everyone because he can’t have any normal relationships in his life without there being bloodshed or pain or suffering. That was enough, and he didn’t want to dig deeper into the nipping fear of losing you, not now, not when he had a job to do—

You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers brush your collarbone. He gently moves the delicate strap of your bodysuit, ignoring the soft skin beneath, and pulls the gauze away from your shoulder.

Your jacket had taken most of the impact it seems. Bucky frowns deeply at the pink fibers clinging to the entry wound. It’s a nasty puckered bit of flesh, smeared with blood, right in the soft muscle of your left shoulder. The hole is a little smaller than a quarter — Bucky recognizes it as shot from a 9mm almost immediately. He’s taken a few of these in his days. He’s glad it wasn’t close range. The burns from the muzzle flash make for nasty scars. He’d know. He has one on his back, right above his hip.

Bucky’s jaw is tight. He’s gritting his back teeth. His headache throbs angrily behind his eyes.

Bucky leans, eyeing the wound carefully. His limited reaction is enough to spark a little light of bravery in your gut, and you move to look at the hole — only to find a vibranium hand rooting your jaw in place. It’s gentle enough as it recorrects the line of your gaze straight ahead. His thumb rests on the curve of your chin as his index climbs your jaw, and the vibranium is warm and cold all at once. It’s an odd sensation. Not bad, but not flesh.

You like it.

(You find your mind quickly flashing with the thought of what that hand would feel like in other places. You ignore it.)

Your eyes are stuck on Bucky.

He’s clearly upset — the pinch between his brows and the evident scowl on his lips is enough of an indication. The bridge of his nose is busted and there’s a bruise crawling under his left eye. The shirt you’d given him is a wreck, and as he bends to snatch up a rubbing alcohol soaked pad, the feeling of shame creeps up on you. The anxiousness that’s settled in the pit of your stomach doesn’t help.

Arguably, it exacerbates the symptom.

The whiskey is slow to make an impact.

But, when Bucky finally swipes the gauze across the wound, your ankles have begun to tingle and it isn’t blinding white pain you feel — not yet. It’s sharp and it feels like he’s touching your shoulder blade when he presses his fingers into the holes to clean the immediate area. That has you grimacing tightly.

His obsidian-hued hand holds your face still through it.

So, you opt to stare.

His arm reminds you of some pottery you’d seen back at the Museum of Modern Art once, on a school trip. In a dimly lit room, spotlights lit up a row of vases that had been gilded back together with gold-dusted sap. You’d sat there for nearly an hour, staring at those things. You can’t remember the name now, not while Bucky does one more pass across the wound. It started with a ‘k’. It was beautiful. You loved that exhibit. Why can’t you — fuck — remember the name? Kinsi… kinsigumi? Gumi. Kintsi —

You grit your teeth and grip the counter tightly. He pauses. You exhale.

You inhale.

Kintsugi.

The seams of his arm remind you of Kintsugi.

It’s beautiful.

Bucky’s eyes flit to yours. He sees your stare.

Maybe it’s the pain, or the half-cocked daze, but the look in your eyes is enough to spur an immediate reaction. Bucky scowls. He yanks his hand back, retreating to the supplies on the counter. He’s pulled, hard and fast, and now he seems miles away.

Quietly, and with a bit more chill than he intended, he speaks. “If it was making you nervous, you should have said something.”

It.

Your head snaps to him.

“What?” you ask, nearly incredulously.

He’s silent. He has the tweezers in his hand now.

Your eyes narrow critically — and instead of shame and anxiety, it’s hurt that flies off your tongue. It’s drenched in enough pain that Bucky hears it in the waver of your voice.

“You think I’m afraid of you?”

It’s nearly a whisper.

He swallows.

He ignores it. He has to. He doesn’t want to know the answer. Either way that conversation goes is enough to drag him into territory he can’t handle right now. Not when he needs to do this without his hands shaking.

“This is going to hurt.”

Your mouth is open — be it shock or anger, he’s not sure. Bucky, however, makes a point of ignoring your expression and your reaction by handing over the whiskey once more. You snatch it from his hands quickly. There’s a look on your face that makes his chest ache. With one last pass over him with your eyes, you take a long swig.

You feel like crying.

You won’t, though. Not now. Not while he does this.

You deserve this.

And holy fucking hell does it hurt. It’s like someone’s taken a hot poker and punctured your skin, then rotated it around and around and around. You can feel every time the tweezers touch the bullet because the metallic little click echoes in your chest. It’s enough to make your head spin, and you grit your teeth and close your eyes and try to breathe — but even after a handful of minutes, when Bucky finally retrieves the slug, there’s no relief. Just a desperate throb.

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the whiskey once more.

You do cry, finally, when Bucky packs the hole.

He rolls the gauze up tightly into a cylinder and, as gently as he can, pushes it in.

It’s a horrible choke of pain that you smother into your palm and pant through. It reminds you to breathe, and while you stare up at the water damage on the kitchen ceiling, Bucky tapes a square piece of gauze over the bruised wound and wraps your shoulder tightly. He takes his time, but there’s a curtness to his actions.

Finally, when he begins to clean up the mess of bloodied gauze, you speak.

“If you’re mad at me, then just say it.”

He snaps almost immediately, like a kicked dog. “And say what, Rabbit? That I almost lost you?”

Your mouth slips shut.

Bucky pauses what he’s doing. He drops the gauze onto the towel and he bares both hands against the counter top. He leans and exhales and drops his own head back — then, you can see his own waves of anxiety knocking him against the shore of composure. His eyes move back and forth, he inhales, and then after a long while he speaks.

It’s calmer. Not so horribly mean.

“You should have told me about Alexei.”

You go to speak — but he stops you.

“I mean really, really told me,” he explains, “Had I known he wanted your fucking head mounted on a spike, I would have kept you far away from that place.”

“We had to—”

“No,” he says sternly, standing up full height, “No, we didn’t. We never have to do anything that’s going to put you in danger. Never. I won’t do it again. You should have fuckin’ told me.”

You’re quiet.

“A few more inches to the right,” he says, gesturing to your throat with his finger. His eyes are expressive and he’s speaking like he’s lived this experience, “You’d be dead. Cold and dead and I’d be here, carrying the fucking guilt around with me because I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

His voice splinters at the end — but he’s moved to throw away the gauze and dump the tweezers in the sink. He can’t look at you as he says it, and you know that. Because, just like before, people like you and him have a hard time looking the truth in the eyes.

You slide off the counter.

Your heart is sad. It’s heavy and mournful and weighed down with guilt.

“Bucky.”

It’s soft. He’s scrubbing your blood from his hands.

He doesn’t turn around. He can’t. He can feel the prick of an anxious breakdown beginning to climb into his eyes. Instead, he scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and your blood is stuck in the plating of his hand and it’s not going to come out—

Think of what could have happened if it had been a few inches to the right. The arched spray. Blood everywhere. She can’t speak through the gargle, she’s going cold, she’s gone. And, like always, you’re alone again, Bucky.

Then, your hands are on his.

The touch is enough to stop him. It’s enough for him to move aside at the large, inset kitchen sink. You exhale slowly as you run the water a little warmer and gingerly run his hands under the tap. Your hands are smaller than his, a bit more delicate, and he’s stunned into a sharp silence at the feeling of your fingertips gently washing away the crimson blood.

You grab another dish towel from a drawer beside the stove.

Then, in the dim light of the kitchen, you take both his hands and dry them.

It’s the vibranium hand that you pay special attention to, though. And Bucky feels like a fucking idiot — just standing there, just watching as you run the rag between the gilded plating and use gentle pressure to get into the harder to reach spots. You turn it over, and you dry his knuckles.

You take your time.

You don’t look up when you speak. You’re focused. Almost reverent.

He doesn’t deserve this.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you say sternly.

His mouth is dry. “Rabbit…”

Bucky shifts on his feet and takes a deep inhale. He feels lightheaded.

The whiskey, and the closeness of the two of you, makes your skin warm. His whole nervous system feels like it’s on fire.

“I didn’t mean to stare, I don’t ever mean to,” you apologize as your hands still over his arm. He watches your irises trace the plating above his wrist. The rag is forgotten, its purpose null. Your words are heavy, and Bucky can hear a little shake in them as you swallow, “I just… think it’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful.

Even now, blood-soaked and sweat-stained. With makeup running down your cheeks and your composure in shambles. Even now, on the run and apparently wanted, you’re incredibly beautiful. Bucky hates how easy it is to admit and how hard it is to keep off his tongue. It nearly gets the better of him. He watches your eyelashes flutter. When you look up at him, the world is suddenly drowned in honey.

“I’m sorry.”

You mean it.

Your bottom lip wobbles.

Bucky, immediately, regrets being so goddamn cold.

You were just trying to help — you were just trying to do the right thing.

“Stop it. Come here.”

The hug is the first time you can remember touching him like this. You think you’ll always remember it, too. It’s sturdy and warm and gentle and honest and you bury your face into the shoulder as his arms come up around your neck. He’s careful of your own injured shoulder, and his fingers find the base of your neck. Around his waist, your fingers dig into the back of his shirt. Both of you ground yourselves in the other’s arms, and for the first time in a handful of hours, you both find peace.

Quiet, sturdy, lovely peace.

And the two of you stay like that for a while in the quiet little kitchen.

It’s not until Climber’s voice rises from the living room that you’re pulled away from Bucky — and even then, your face linger inches from one another for a moment too long. Neither of you say a word, only swallow down confessions that could have been, and move on.

“Oh, girlie, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

Bucky frowns. With your brows knotted tightly together, you weave through the kitchen and back into the living room.

Kiwi has sat up and both her and Climber have their eyes on the bulky flat screen on the dust-covered entertainment center. It’s cable news, and as Climber leans to turn the television up, a picture of you flashes across the screen.

It’s a photo from your arrest six months ago.

“Local authorities are asking that anyone with information on the whereabouts of this young woman call the FBI’s anonymous tip line—”

“Is there a reward?” Climber whispers almost excitedly, eyes on the screen.

“—Authorities are offering $100,000 dollars to the person who provides enough information to lead up to this dangerous fugitive’s capture.”

“Dangerous fugitive?” hisses Bucky.

“A hundred thousand dollars?” cries Kiwi, “Who the fuck did you piss off?”

You inhale deeply as you wave your hands. “The bigger question is who the fuck knew I was going to The Glass Cannon last night. Because they’re looking for me — not you.”

You point at Bucky and the gears are turning in your head.

The pacing is almost immediate, and Bucky crosses his arms tightly as you begin to walk back and forth behind the full length couch that Climber is currently spread out on.

It’s cut short, though, by Kiwi’s laptop chiming successfully.

“Well,” she stands quickly, “I have a feeling that someone knows you’re onto them. And the facial recognition software just got a match. A three point one, too.”

Your eyes brighten.

You’d given Kiwi the photo of the young Innessa, with all her decorated furs and blonde curls. She’s laughing and she’s young and she’s in love and it’s hard for you to imagine a woman like her to be dangerous. While you’d made sure Bucky was propped up comfortably on the couch and then finally calmed down from the adrenaline high enough to get comfortable yourself, Kiwi had dug out the hard-drive she kept on her at all times and began pulling data from the Alexandria Library files.

It had been a handful of hours, so it was clear that Innessa had hid herself well in the vast, expansive database SHIELD kept for all those years while it was in operation.

Bucky is quick to gather behind Kiwi, eyes scanning the screen.

Sure enough, when you come to look at the photos pulled up on Kiwi’s screen, there’s a hit. There’s an identification card photo of an older woman, maybe in her forties, pulled up alongside the photo Bucky had given you. Her hair is no longer blonde, but deep auburn color. She’s marked as having worked with Rumlow — a supervisor of some sort. Makes sense. You didn’t need to see a picture of Crossbones to remember Brock. Even when you’d interned, he’d been infamous.

And that was when he was one of the good guys.

There’s a handful of other photos of her — candids, professional photos, and even one where she is shaking Tony Stark’s hand.

And in all of them, you see your next door neighbor Bonnie McLayne.

“Fuck.”

Bucky blinks. Kiwi turns to look at you over her shoulder.

Again, you speak. Your eyes are wide. You can’t look away from the screen.

“Fuck, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Rabbit…?”

“Fuck.”

Bucky’s face narrows considerably, confusion melting to make room for realization.

His voice is quiet.

“Do you know her?”

“Oh my god,” you say loudly, shaking your head and blinking, “Oh my fucking god, that’s my neighbor.”

Bucky can feel his whole face go clammy.

“The neighbor who—”

“—Who I showed your fucking picture to,” you nearly shriek, “Like it was some cute little matchmaking game!”

Immediately both hands are over your face as you throw your head back. Now, the pacing has begun, and like you’re being carried on autopilot, you begin to move back and forth and back and forth and—

“You don’t think she’d hurt Poke, do you?”

“Rabbit.”

“Oh god, oh god—”

Oh.

Oh, you’re having a panic attack.

Oh, that was quick. Brutally fast. Nearly immediate.

After all, she knows where your family lives. She gets Holiday cards from mom to give to you. She’s been your closest friend for nearly six years. But she’s not Bonnie, she’s Innessa fucking Sidrova. She’s seen you with Bucky. She knows — she knows a lot and you don’t know anything and you’re miles from home, from Poke, from Mom, from Ana… Oh, god, the baby. The baby.

“The baby.”

Bucky’s voice is level. “Rabbit, you gotta calm down.”

“I have to call my mom.”

“No,” Kiwi snaps immediately, “They’re going to be watching for your cell phone pings. No calls, no texting, none of it. And god forbid this woman is one step ahead of the FBI—”

“Oh, god.”

You gasp like a fish out of water, paralyzing fear sending you to lean against the back of the couch.

You claw at your chest and try to remember what Dr. Hart said about these sorts of moments. Square breathing. In and hold and out and hold. Again and again.  

“Sit down,” Bucky says as he returns to your side, nearly sweeping you up long enough to plop you down into the armchair from before, “And do me a favor and breathe.”

The whiskey isn’t helping right now.

“I’m trying.”

Another gasped breath.

Climber and Kiwi watch.

Bucky shakes his head sternly, kneeling on one knee and snagging your hands. “Don’t try. Just do it. You can do it. Just follow my lead — you’re the sidekick, after all. Remember? C’mon. There’s the smile. Breathe.”

So you do.

In, hold. Out, hold. You draw a square with one hand on your jeans and hold onto Bucky’s with the other.

Again, in and hold. Out and hold.

And again.

And then, you just listen to Bucky’s breathing.

You’re not sure how long it takes — half an hour, ten minutes, who knows — but finally you’re able to calm the spiraling thoughts in your head. Finally, the loudness quiets down, you catch your breath, and the world isn’t falling apart. The bite of anxiety still remains in the hollow of your chest and Bucky can see that when you finally open your eyes and squeeze his hand.

There’s that look again between the two of you. The one from before, in the kitchen.

“Good?” he asks quietly, blue eyes swimming with some sort of emotion you can’t really pin down. Not now. Maybe, if you’d been a bit more collected, you would have seen it as infatuation. But, no. It’s just… nice.

You swallow and nod.

“Damn, girl,” says Climber from his spot on the couch, “Now I’m starting to get the whole therapy thing.”

“Thanks, dickhead.”

“That’s recent, isn’t it?” he asks, genuine worry crossing his face as he stands to gently pass a hand over your back, “I don’t remember it ever being this bad.”

Your face is sad. “I was just partying through it back then. Distraction was always the best method and then… When I had no more distractions and it was just me? Alone? And, psh, the accident with Jaimie? It got worse. So much worse.”

Climber’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry, bunny.”

You try to put on a brave face.

Bucky stands from in front of you and begins his own pacing. This one isn’t so much born out of anxious nature — but more of a tactical logic born out of keeping you safe.

This wasn’t exactly the turn he was expecting.

“You didn’t recognize her?” he asks after a moment, voice high and tight.

“I’m sorry,” you wave a hand, exasperated, “She doesn’t exactly look the same as she did in the 70s.”

Kiwi frowns at the screen. “Definitely botox.”

Bucky squints. He looks to you for an explanation.

You vaguely gesture to your face.

His brow lifts, he closes his eyes, and he sighs.

Kiwi is next to pipe up. “It explains why the feds are looking for you, especially if she saw you with the one man she knows is looking to hunt her down — so, I think it’s best the both of you lay low for a couple of days.”

“Not to mention,” Climber wags a finger, “Bucky the Babe over here did just piss off one the smaller Russian crime families in New York. So, there’s always that ontop of the evil Nazi-HYDRA-woman-next-door.”

You groan.

“Poke has enough food for a week,” Bucky says nearly reading your mind, “He’ll be fine.”

“So, what? We just wait here? Until something happens?”

“Sidrova is going to try and bait us out,” Bucky mutters, “She knows she can’t just disappear. She’s been settled for too long and we know too much. Engaging us in an altercation is how she’ll do it. Plus, I have a feeling she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to shoot me in the knees after a few decades. So, we wait.”

“Few decades?” Kiwi whispers.

“How old are you?” Climber asks.

“Hundred and six.”

Both of them just blink at an unphased Bucky.

You sigh, finally standing on wobbly legs. “This feels like a bad idea. I’m just stating that for the record.”

“Better than her hunting the both of you down,” Kiwi supplies, “You can stay here. There’s cable, there’s booze, and there’s plenty of instant ramen to last you until winter.”

“Stale cereal, too.”

“Wait— where are you two going?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, “You’re leaving?”

“Keeping our hands clean,” Kiwi says, closing her laptop, “And letting you be the sidekick, bunny.”

The sadness in your heart grows a little heavier at those words, but there’s a little bit of pride in Kiwi’s tone. As she stands, she moves to wrap her arms around you in a gentle hug. Quietly, she murmurs into your hair.

“Your dad would be proud of you, y’know.”

Bucky watches.

Climber is next, and that hug is bigger, more brotherly, more like sunshine and less like autumn.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rabbit.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out as the two of them gather their belongings, “For dragging you both into this. But, thank you. You didn’t have to help me—”

“Yeah, we did,” Kiwi chirps as she knocks Bucky on the arm three times, “Keep her safe, aakarshak purush.”

The Hindi rolls off her tongue with ease.

Bucky laughs. “Bahut lamba.”

Kiwi pauses mid-step. She narrows her eyes. There’s a smile on her lips. “Your pronunciation isn’t bad.”

He shrugs plainly. “I get lunch almost everyday at the Indian place below my apartment, so. The owner has been teaching me some stuff on the side.”

An approving nod.

Kiwi hucks you the keys across the room.

She points at Bucky.

“I like him. Try not to fuck that up, eh?”

And then, the two of them are gone.

And it’s just you and Bucky in the empty apartment.

[erodasfishtacos]

Hiii bestie!!! Could you write about y/n being in danger and gang Harry gets all worried and scared (of course) and saves her. (I love your stories so much)

warning: violence, blood, guns

Harry was waiting for YN at home after she was going to the store to buy tampons (he offered to go but he normally bought the wrong kind).

He’s watching a game of football as he also continuously glances at the clock - keeping time of how long she’s been gone.

After twenty-five minutes, he gets a bit impatient, he wanted to start their movie night (sue him sometimes he liked cute romantic shit).

When he rings her mobile, it picks up after the first ring, and what he hears next sends a straight chill down his spine.

“We were waiting for you to call, Diablo,” A gruff, smokey voice rasps through the speaker of his wife’s phone.

His heart fucking drops but anger takes over in mere seconds as he’s off the couch and storming to their secret weapons room through a hidden passageway.

“What the fuck do y’cunts want?” Harry hisses furiously, unsure of who exactly this voice belongs to on the other end.

He hears a whimper in the background. He’d know that sound anywhere - usually he heard it when she was underneath him but right now it sounded pained and scared.

“If you fuckin’ hurt - I guarantee you that your whole family will be dead by tomorrow,” Harry promises, pushing down the panic as he grabs a duffel to begin shoving a shotgun and assault rifle in.

His desert eagle was tucked in his waistband already - were it always sat.

On his burner phone, he manages to text and send out the GPS location of where his wife is at - idiots most likely don’t know that he has a tracker on her phone.

There was also a GPS tracker embedded in the ‘H’ necklace she always wore right behind the three small diamonds so no one would ever be able to spot it.

“Business. We know you have a shipment going into the South Bay at midnight. Rumor has it you have 6 million pounds of coke on their,” The man replies.

Bingo.

Harry automatically realizes that this dude is a fucking idiot and fell for a diversion tactic - that shipment was being delivered on the other side of the city at three in the morning.

He didn’t get to be the most dangerous, successful gang leader without his own skills and manipulation of his own.

Harry always had to try to pick off the rats and snitches in his gang because people like to squeal for money and drugs.

Every opportunity he got, he told a couple of his rookie members fake information to see if they’d betray him.

It looks like someone was given fake information that Harry had fed two newer members earlier in the week.

“Why the fuck would y’idiots just sneak attack? Why the fuck d’you have my wife?” Harry snarls, getting a influx of text from his associates stating they’re on their way.

“We were actually going to be nice, just hold her until you agree - not hurt her, you know? But your little bitch managed to kill two of my men before we could wrangle her.”

Thatta girl.

God, he really fucking loved his wife and had no fear of putting his on life on the line to protect her - would take a bullet for her any day.

“I can’t wait t’find you and torture you until you’re begging for me to just put you out of your misery,” Harry promises, his heart pounding, vein protruding from his forehead.

“You really shouldn’t threaten me when I have this pretty little number of yours tied up to a chair with a gun to her head,” The man laughs with amusement, “I’ll have you talk to her now.”

Harry hears the man bark at YN, “Speak bitch!”

“He-hello?” YN whimpers pathetically, “Baby, I need help.”

And it sounds wrong - but relief flushes through him at the sound of her pleas. It was completely an act because it’s not truly how she sounds when she’s scared.

“Brat, y’faking it right now right?” Harry makes sure, getting onto the interstate - uncaring of stop signs and red lights.

“Yes. Yes, come get me. Yes, baby,” YN continues and god, she could win an Oscar for her performance and it really shouldn’t get him hard right now.

-

When he pulls up to a brick building that looks abandoned, his men are already shooting with visible bodies collapsed on the floor.

Harry yanks his favorite assault rifle out of his trunk, tugging the strap over his head, and positioning it as he strides forward.

“Boss, we haven’t cleared it completely. You can’t go in yet,” Niall informs him as he reload quickly, breathing heavy.

“I don’t fuckin’ care. My wife’s in there,” Harry snaps, quickly taking out the last two visible men before he is able to step through the door.

He is about to turn a corner and a man steps out from behind it - Harry doesn’t hesitate to lay his heavily-clad ringed knuckles straight into his face knocking him down before landing one fatal shot.

When he steps into a bare, musky old basement - his beautiful wife is tied to a chair, ropes keeping her arms tied behind her, and a cloth in her mouth.

“‘Bout time you showed up,” The rival states, standing behind his wife with a gun running along her skin.

She’s still in her holey tee shirt and biker shorts with white sneakers that were blood sodden like her clothing.

Harry illuminates pure fury when his gaze meets her - but her eyes are twinkling like she knows something he doesn’t.

He noticed that there was a high concentration of blood near her left side and that the fabric was torn - he had cut her and she was bleeding.

But she spits out the rag, rasping out to her husband in a teasing tone, “Took you long enough, dickhead,” before she’s slipping her hands from the restraints that she had gotten out of in mere minutes.

Her hand goes right for the man’s crotch - taking him by complete surprise, he hunches over and YN is able to get off the chair and knee him straight in the nose.

“S’your turn now,” YN replies, “I need to bandage this to stop the bleeding - it’s just superficial.”

Harry doesn’t remember much from that point on beside the fact that he pulled that man’s teeth out one by one and just as he had told him - by the time Harry was done with him he’d being begging for death.

And boy did he beg for Harry to just end it because Harry’s torture methods was worse than being dead to the world.

After he’s done, he nods at his men to clean up the mess, and finds his wife instantly, intertwining their hands and assuring her, “I’ll stick y’up when we get home.”

-

YN’s sat on their bathroom countertop in nothing but a clean pair of underwear after Harry had gently bathed her dirt and blood away.

She had quieted, the confidence and adrenaline having faded off, and she lets out a loud whimper when he begins to thread the needle through her tender, swollen skin.

“M’sorry, my queen,” Harry apologizes sympathetically as he threads through to close up the wound.

“Hurts,” His wife hisses with a crack in her voice, hands resting on his bare shoulders as he concentrates on her side.

“It’s done, did s’good baby,” He murmurs encouragingly, disposing of the items before cupping her jaw, “How are y’feelin’?”

“I’m fine,” She replies instantly, swallowing and avoiding his gaze.

“You’re not okay and that’s okay,” Harry reminds her, chest hurting when tears start to dribble down her cheeks.

“I was scared,” She whispers, “And all I wanted was you.”

“Baby, baby fuckin’ look at me,” Harry urges, tilting her chin up and hands coming to massage at her thighs, “M’sorry I wasn’t there right away, I fucking would die for you.”

It was amazing how much YN changed Harry.

-

Jaymee was a really sweet girl, bright puppy dog eyes and a wide smile with cherub cheeks, “That was amazing,” she had giggles after Harry rolls off of her.

“Get the fuck out now,” He dismisses, swinging his legs off the bed and pulling on his briefs.

Her face drops, “But…we just? I thought tha-“

Harry cuts her off there, crushing the cute girl’s dreams when he scoffs, “Y’thought what? I didn’t want anything from you but your cunt. I don’t cuddle or give a single fuck - so get the fuck out.”

-

“You’re my soulmate, fuckin’ crazy with how gone I am for you,” Harry follows the sentence but a line of kisses across her breasts and collarbones.

“Please, need it,” YN requests lowly, hand coming to tangle into his curls and lead him to her breast to suck at her hard nipple.

“Y’side, brat,” Harry reminds her, “Let just lay y’out, make y’come, and then we can cuddle, okay?”

And he does, spread her out on their bed, licks deep into her until she’s quivering with pleasure, and then tucks her right into his chest and he soothes her to sleep.

[lazydanni]

Demon bros' reaction if MC plays the "CPR" song in front of them

Just my peanut brain thinking about that song during 4am 🧍‍♀️ So I was like "why not write this out instead?", and now we're here lmfao

Warning: very unholy languages (please forgive me Simeon), Nsfw jokes, save yourself before it's too late, Just a shitpost lol

◈ ━━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━━ ◈

Lucifer

You brought a cup of coffee to Lucifer while was listening, humming to the song

For some magical reason, lets just say your earphones got plugged out of your D.D.D

Andddd the now the unholy song is playing ridiculously loud in his office

*aggressively choking on coffee*

NO BECAUSE YOU GAVE HIM A HEART ATTACK

My man just shocked and speechless 🤚💀

Bet everyone in the house heard the song that came from his office

"Ahem... [Y/N], What kind of nasty song are you listening to?"

"Uhmmm... CPR?" 👁👄👁

He gives you a death glare because you just pushed down his pride button and shits idk

He's currently screaming inside out of frustration rn

Also, you won't able to exit his room tonight so goodluck mate

Mammon

You introduced this song to him, since he couldn't shut up about the song you was listening

Took him a moment to realize what the song was about

He's now blushing mess, how cute

"eh?... EH?......EHHHHHHHH?????"

Dunno why but I feel like his legs are shaking

Would tell you DO NOT play this song to anyone beside himself, BeCaUsE hE iS yOuR fIrSt >:(

Would also tell you that this song is stupid (but secretly have it as his new favorite song in his playlist)

Congratulations, you left Mammon fantasizing about how you'd "cpr" him like the lyrics

In case you were wondering why he couldn't just ask you to do it to him (smh bottom), His ego would just punch his face whenever he's about to 😔

Leviathan

Not so surprised if he's already knew this song (sussy levi 👁👁)

Despite that, he's still fucking frustrating when you decided to sing that song during karaoke with him

You had him at "tight as a virgin boy, don't get nervous"

Probably because he's a virgin? yes? no? who knows ;D

As if that wasn't smash him hard enough, the way you're swinging your booty, dancing to the rhythm is knocking him out

Levi.exe has stopped working

After you done singing your song, Levi is already laying on the floor and dead... out of frustration of course

Once he calm down he will tell you how normie you were singing that stupid song

Honestly he cannot get over it after that day

Satan

Both of you were reading in his room

He noticed how you were just humming the song, he decided you take one of your earphones out and check it himself

"..."

*Insert his blushing messy face here*

He would also choke his drink if he was having one

Would akwardly apologizing to you and stuff and continue reading

OR he could playfully ask you if you want him to teach you how to do cpr 😏

Don't worry, he's screaming at himself for asking you those kind of questions

He won't judge your music tastes, because he's a gentle man 🙄

BUT it wont leave him alone tonight, so he takes it as an excuse to not leave you alone tonight <33

Asmodeus

Do I have to explain how he'd react??

HE ISN'T THE AVATAR OF LUST FOR NO REASON🤚

Bet my whole 2 kidneys that he has this song in his favorite playlist

I could imagine he would just play this song loudly neither in public or in house

This man has no shame about segg songs 😩

You two are just vibing with the music while Lucifer on his way to tie both of you on the ceiling

"[Y/n]~ Would you like to do the "Cpr"?"

Would gladly teach you how to dance to this song

HE WOULD SING THIS SONG AT SCHOOL FESTIVAL IF LUCIFER LET HIM TO

SLAYYYYY 💅💅

Beelzebub

Have no idea what is this about what's this song about

Cpr? on a dick??? Virgin?? huh?

Until you explained him about the song

*Realization*

Slightly blushing, and definitely apologize

"Uhm... S-sorry for asking an inappropriate question-"

You better tell him "it's okay" because this boy is too innocent and precious to know these things!!!

Like Satan, he respects your music tastes. As long as his MC is happy 😔👊

Wouldn't dare to ask you anything further, because he's afraid that he'd make you uncomfortable (PRECIOUS BOI AAAA)

May or may not has a dream about you giving his pp a cpr later that night 🌚

Belphegor

If you played the song during his nap time, he would just ask you to low it down and head back to sleep

Ugh this bitch 🙄

Definitely teases you after he woke up

Like, ALOT OF TEASING

"Heh, didn't know my little [Y/n] isn't innocent at all"

"Do you know how to actually Cpr? hmmm?"

Anything mocking you can imagine, but with his bratty smugging face

But if you successfully turn the table, he would blussing like hell (No pun indeed 🌚)

What will happen after that? I'm leaving it for you to decide, if yk then yk 😏

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Damn, you finally made it to the end? uhhhh dunno why you decided to reach the end, but thankyou for reading. Hope you enjoyed it lmfao

Still trying to make this account looks more alive 😭🤚

Sorry if my English is terrible, it wasn't my first language after all bkwxnoxwnoxw

[bloodycassian]

COLD NIGHTS - Cassian x Azriel x Reader - Prompt: 

hi i love your work so much!!! I was thinking a cassian x azriel x reader (i just love them sm, why have one when you can have two ) where the reader is sister of a high lord maybe day or winter court, and reader goes missing (kinda angsty) and her brother (a high lord) panics and goes to the night court for help (bc if her two bat boys can’t find her who will)  and az and cassian go full on panic mode and search for the reader, i was also thinking a fluffy cute ending where reader is just cuddling with azriel and cassian while her wounds heal take as much time as you need to write this, don’t pressure yourself. Take care lovely

Kallis would never forget the screams. The terror and panic that rushed through him when he realised that you were gone.  He sent half the city to search for you. He called upon Helion to inspect the magic. He was frantic in finding you. But it was like you had just disappeared out of nowhere. No sign of struggle, not a drop of blood spilled. The offender was sloppy in their ways, but their magic was strong. Helion could sense it.  They had a deathwish from Kallis himself if he ever found them. +  The first thing you saw were your cracked and bloody hands. They were split open from the dry cold wind. Sea air drifted into the cave. The cold brutal howling outside mixed with the roar of waves breaking confirmed your nightmares. Cape Tragedy. 

The islands off the coast of winter were known for their unforgiving nature to ships. Hence their name, Cape Tragedy. Also known as the Tragic coast, no stories were ever heard of any survivors of those crashes. If they had managed to survive the churning water, then the false salvation of the islands would kill them. It happened often enough that there were lighthouses set atop many of the bigger islands for ships to avoid on stormy days.

You coughed from the dry air, earning a pair of yellow eyes to dart to you. One of the three lesser fae males noticed you were awake and clapped. "She wakes! We've been waiting for you, sweetheart." His green skin was pale in the overcast light streaming in from the mouth of the cave. Snow Bear pelts lay all around. A disgrace in your culture. No citizen of Winter court would do such a thing. You looked to the walls to find weapons, and strange markings along the stone. Sailors from far away lands. 

Not even sailors. Pirates. A chill ran through you.  

"We're going to get your weight in gold, pretty one." The scaled male curled a piece of your hair behind you ear. Your stomach turned, and you tried to scoot away. "My brother will kill you first. And he'll take a long time doing it." You promised, trying to make your voice sound strong. Terror had you by it's grip though, and it was hard to do anything other than panic

. "Your brother? The pretty one that shears the Elk?" The green one asked. You laughed, and then were hissing in pain when the scaled male yanked on your hair. "What's so funny?" 

"You think my brother is an elk herder?" You spat "You must be dumber than you look." The males glanced between each other, then to the one who hadn't said anything yet.

"Who ye think you are then?" The male holding your hair stammered, trying to keep his panic under wraps. 

"Kallis' sister." You said with deadly calm. "And the high lord does not negotiate." 

"If you're so noble why you got such a mouth on ye?" The third male finally spoke.

They laughed.

"Maybe we will see just how much of a mouth-" He started again. He didnt have a chance to finish his disgusting words. You kicked, bending an ice spear straight up from the rocky ice floor and through the third male's body. Then the beating from the other two came. 

They bound your wrists and ankles in rope and tar. Their hands shook when they did it. It gave you a small bit of satisfaction. The potion they gave you to knock you out was just barely strong enough. You fought it as best you could, but it won. You could only hear the faint sounds of arguing then a crash of glass, then the cold winds whipping around you. And when you woke, your body ached.  The cold bit into your limbs. Your fingers were pale. Far too pale to be healthy. You knew frostbite when you saw it. Your body refused to move under your own power. Your blood was frozen to the icy ground. They had used a potion and transported you to a peninsula, and you could only faintly hear the ocean below. You could feel the potion wearing off, but you knew you weren't healing. Not yet. You reached down into your own mind, picking up the fading tendrils of power. Of your bond to the two you knew could save you. And you pulled as hard as you could manage.  --- "Fuck." The roaring thought shook Cassian awake. Bleary eyed, he glanced about the room as if there was someone actually shouting at him.  Then he felt it. The weak tug that had been silent for so long. And he knew it was nothing good. Frenzied, he met Azriel at the dining area. Where they spent the rest of the night planning, deducing a probable reason for you to be calling so weakly. They sent their worries to Rhys, but they were shooed away. "I'm researching. Meet me in the library at dawn." The two males tried to comfort each other. But the worry pulsating through the bond was too much to focus on. So they waited. Kallis appeared that morning. He spat his story and begged for help, practically in tears as he spoke to the three Illyrians. Cassian and Az knew something was wrong the moment you were attacked. Court laws forbade them interfering on Winter Court territory though.  As soon as the approval was given, the brothers winnowed to the border of Winter and started flying. + You were coming to terms that you would die in the cold. You had imagined death differently. Battle was the primary way you thought you'd die. Or at the end of a High Lord's magic for being too much of an advisor. Smiling at the memory of putting Tamlin in his place, you gave another tug down the bonds to your mates. And like a snap, they both tugged back. Almost in unison. It was hard to tell. You closed your eyes, listening to the soft waves below. They lulled you into a cold sleep yet again.  + Despite the cold, the Illyrians flew as fast as they could. They could sense your light fading, and chased it for mile after mile. Their wings cut through the harsh winter winds, fueled by rage and desperation. Then they spotted the dark figure frozen to the snow below. Cassian landed first, a few feet away. The ice cracked beneath him. "Get us out of here." He growled to Azriel.  "We need to make sure she's okay before we move."  Cassian growled, but didn't protest. Azriel understood. He felt the anguish and frustration through the shared bond. Az's hands pressed gently to your neck, checking your pulse. He swore. "Baby, we need you to wake up for us. We're here. We got you." Cassian put a hand to your cheek and fought back the tears that threatened.  You groaned in response. They both sighed in relief, their breath making clouds in front of them. "I'm stuck..." You managed through your stiff jaw.  Cassian stroked a thumb over your cheek. "Stuck? Honey you're-"  "Cas..." Azriel nodded to your side, to the ice that crept its way up your damp clothes. Azriel could have taken a very very long time torturing the beasts that did this to his mate. The rage coiled in his gut at the sight of your injuries. The only reason you hadn't bled out was the blood and water mix turning your wounds to ice.  Cassian pulled at the ice web that encapsulated you. Under the heat of his rage it broke, and broke and broke. Azriel placed small patches of his shield over your frostbitten fingers. "We're gonna get you out of here. Just stay still." Azriel smoothed back your hair, and darkness swirled over you. The change from the harsh overcast light of Winter court to the soft sun of Night court was jarring.  Madja put her hands on you and you were asleep in an instant. Her warm hands were a blessing from the Mother.  +  "She's lucky she has that Winter blood in her or she'd be dead." Madja wiped her hands off and handed both the Illyrians a small vial. "That is the scrap from a poisoned sword that broke off in her shoulder. I got all the pieces out, but the poison lingers. It may heal slowly, but it should get better."  Anguish burned both of their stomachs. Azriel's throat tightened and he looked away, but gripped the vial tightly. Cassian stared at it, his eyes murderous. Madja left without another word. "She was almost killed. And we couldn't do anything." Cassians' voice was low, with violence dripping from it. "We need her here. In Velaris where we can... watch her." He didn't know what he was saying, but the instinct to protect was overriding every other logical thought he had. Anger burned and burned in his stomach, swallowing him with rage. He could feel Az mirroring the same feeling, but with a cold deadliness that begged to simmer out of him.  "You know she wont go for that. She loves her home too much. Her brother." Azriel whispered back. "We're her mates. She should be with us." Cassian was looking for a fight. All the tension and anger of the day had to be worked out. Azriel felt it too. His shadows ran anxiously through the room.

The wind outside howled. It shifted the dark clouds that covered the moon. It seemed to be a cold day in all of Prythian. A cold day in your mates hearts to the pirates that had taken you. They spoke their rage mind to mind, imagining the ways to torture the bastards. 

How to find them would be the first priority. Azriel kept circling back to that part. + The healer cleared his throat at the door. "She's asking for you." He nodded to Rhys' brothers. They left Rhys behind in unison, walking in perfect step with each other. Their minds hummed together over that bond they shared with you. "Protect protect protect." They both seemed to demand.  Azriel knocked softly, his heart flipping when he heard your voice again. "Get in here." You demanded, giving them a broad smile when they practically shoved each other out of the way. 

"Come keep me warm." You weakly folded the blanket back, exposing some of the bruising on your skin. 

They complied with enthusiasm. Azriel's hands were cold at first, but they got better when he reached around you to hold Cassian closer. They worked in tandem to keep you covered, making sure that you weren't too crowded or too warm. Azriel summoned his cool shadows when you got too warm and had to kick the blankets off. Cassian's warm breath would keep you warm when they became too much. You traced Azriel's cheekbones, the sharp edge of his jaw while falling alseep. Cassian's muscled forearms hugging you from behind were like a heavy pillow. 

"Rest now, we can have more fun later." Az winked, making your stomach flutter. Cassian groaned and pulled you further to his lap. You tried not to think of the hardness that pressed to you now.  "Goodnight." The shadowsinger kissed your forehead and like a light, you were out. Finally resting peacefully wrapped between your two mates and their warm bond you all shared. 

[strawberry-jammers]

child reader (Pt.4)

tommy x child!reader || whys he here??

someone comes to the tundra to fight the blade (also some cute fluff)

pt1 pt 2 pt3 pt4 pt5

masterlist

this took so long lmao, part 5 coming soon

This story will diverge from the cannon. Since i cant remember it well im just gonna do my own thing.

------

The three of them, techno tommy and little (y/n), lived together peacefully for a bit. Techno and tommy would occasionally spar and commit minor terrorism, while (y/n) got to play with tommy and uncle techno. 

(y/n) has grown a bit sense they had arrived there, being a happy kid like they should be.

On calm nights, techno would read to the little kid, stories of gods who ruled over the lands. Stories of himself in his times of adventure. They enjoyed all his stories, for they held a sort of unreachable curiosity that they loved oh so much.

“Im not reading you a story.” techno says. Sitting in his usual arm chair. He had come back from the nether not long before, just wanting to rest after a long day of fighting withers. He didnt expect the kid to want to hang out with him. “Pwease uncle tech!” they said. He shook his head. “I said no.” (y/n) huffed, getting off the arm of the chair, walking to the pile of books that stood in the coroner of the room. 

They looked through it, trying to find the one they wanted. Once they did, they let out a happy ‘aha!’ and stumbled to the grumpy piglin, book in hand. “This one this one! Pleaaaase!!” they said. Showing techno the book. He examined it, realizing that it was the story about himself that philza had given to him as a joke gift. His eyes widened. ‘Why would the brat wanna read about me?’ he pondered. He just sighed, gently grabbing the book from the small hands it was being held in. “Fine, fine, I'll read you the story.” 

(y/n) smiled, climbing up to sit on the piglins lap, wanting to try and read the book along with him. He huffed, not really agreeing to them sitting on him. None the less he opened the book, reading the unfinished tale to the child sitting before him.

“Once centuries ago, there was a young lad cursed to hear ungodly voices…”

Those were nights (y/n) enjoyed the most. They couldn't read, but having techno read to them was much better than reading a book all alone.

On most days Tommy would play with (y/n) outside. Neither of them got bored of the snow, being used to the sunny weather that was logstedshire. It was a nice change of pace that (y/n) enjoyed. 

The two of them usually had snow ball fights, or tried to build towers and mini houses out of the snow. Tommy would build them snowmen, ones that looked like the people they knew. Others were sometimes ones they hadn't seen before, that Tommy would tell stories of when they would go to bed.

“Papa look!” tommy turned to his kid, who was happily standing next to a snow version of himself. It was small and barely looked like himself, but he easily recognized it. He came up to the small child, picking them up happily. “That's me!? It's amazing little (f/i)! You did so well!!” he said, ruffling the young ones hair. They giggled at the action. 

“Wanna see mine?” (y/n) nodded. He walked over to the snowman he had built, showing them to his kid.

They looked familiar, (y/n) thought. These were the people in the storys (y/n) was told, the man with words of wisdom and guitar playing skills that calmed every citizen, who had tragically died in their last battle. The boy who was by papas side, who loved bees and everyone he knew. The young baker who had a kind heart and a smile that could put anyone at ease. Jack manifold.

Tommy spemnt a very long time creating this, purely so he could show (y/n) his old friends at least once. “Whos that one??” (y/n) asked, pointing to the the fox looking one, standing tall next to the leader, wilbur. “That's fundy. He didn't do much in the war, but he was an amazing fighter, and also a furry.`` Tommy replied, setting the child down. They ran up to the snowman. “Furry furry furry!!” they chanted, making the young boy laugh. “Yes furry!”

Most days now were spent with all three of them playing games inside till the late hours. After (y/n) had gotten sick from being outside so much, Tommy decided to just stay inside the warm cabin. They would bug techno alot, but he enjoyed the company some days. It was better than staying inside alone with an enderman who didn't really like him.

Today however, was different. For they had an unexpecting visitor who was very friendly. 

--

Techno was making breakfast, as usual. He had learned that if he didnt, neither of the innits would eat till dinner when their bodys couldn't handle it anymore. It wasn't good for a young baby like that. Not that techno cared tho.

He was putting the dirty pots and pans in the sink, knowing he'd try and force Tommy to do it later. He started to put the food onto plates when he heard shouting coming from outside. "TECHNOBLADE GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!!!" 

Techno stops for a second. No one could possibly have the balls to fight him, let alone twice. Technoblade put the stuff in his hands down, walking over to the window to try and see who was out there. As he thought, it was none other than Quackity trying to pick a fight with him once more. 

"I CAN SEE YOU PIGMAN! COME OUT HERE AND GET WHAT YOU DESERVE!!!" The duck man was actually prepared this time, with enchanted netherite armor and an axe to go with it. It seemed he upped his game sense last time. 

Techno chuckled, going upstairs to grab his things real fast. There's no way someone can try and beat technoblade like that. He came back down to see Quackity opening his door. "Heh!? Why are you inside my house!?" Quackity stood there, axe gripped tightly. Techno reached the floor, grabbing his sword. "Why can't I be in your house techno? Hiding something?" 

Ah shit he's onto us

Kill him

Haha he looks funny

Techno shook his head. "Just thought you'd play fair duck man. That's what you government people love to try and do." Quackity stepped forward. "Why would I play fair with the man whos supposed to be dead? This has been a long time coming," Quackity readied his axe, "get ready blade, cause i'm finally killing you." Techno readied his sword as well. "I'd like to see you try." 

Just as they said this, someone came up from the floorboards. "*yawn* techno are you done with breakfast yet- HOLY FUCK QUACKITY!?" a tired Tommy says, holding a nearly sleeping (y/n). The two men turn to Tommy, seeing him and his child. "Oh? So this is what you were hiding. Haven't seen you sense the exile!" Quackity says, getting closer. Tommy got up from the ladder, shrinking behind technoblade, trying to protect his kid. 

"What are you doing here big q?" Tommy says, hiding his kid. “I could ask you the same thing. What's that you've got there? Technos kid or something?” 

“Well no-” “quackity leave them alone.” techno cuts off tommy, moving more so in front of him. He cant let the baby die, he knows phil would pumble him if he does. “This is between you and me quackity. Leave them alone.” quackity shook his head, pointing his axe at tommy. “Anyone alined with you is an enemy of mine. Even if he's an old friend.” quackity lunged at techno, who blocked the attack swiftly. Quackity tried to get around the man, so he could grab the child from tommys arms. (y/n) was now awake however, and they weren't very happy.

“Papa?” they ask, realizing there was an axe lunging towards them. Quackity got around the blade, and was already trying to get to them. Tommy noticed the axe coming their way, completely ready to take the hit for his kid. 

Techno blocked the attack however. “Tommy get them to safety! I can handle this.” tommy nodded, running as quackity and techno dueld. Wuackity tried to run after tommy, but techno blocked him. “Not interesting enough for you q?” he smirks, swinging his sword at the duck man. Quackity blocks, scolding. “You're really full of yourself aren't you?”

Tommy ran outside, running to the only place he knew big q wouldn't find them, (y/n)s old hut. He ran and ran for so long, it had reached past mid day when he reached the small home he had made so many months prier. He sighed, closing the door behind him. (y/n) had long since woken up, and was very agitated. They had not eaten yet and it's been hours. “Shit shit sorry (y/n).'' Tommy says, laying the child in their old bed. He looked around the old home for anything he had left behind. He found some stuff, but he still had to go out to get food. 

When he was done, he quickly fed the crying child. “I'm sorry kiddo, I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think quackity would wanna harm you. Sh shhh im sorry.” he picks up the crying child, kinda like how they first met. A crying (y/n) and a terrified tommy. 

“Pappa- '' Tommy cuts them off, shushing them. “Just rest, Just rest…” the kid nodded, calming down slightly.

The two of them stayed like that till the sun rose the next day.

The next day Tommy got a message on his communicator by techno. Apparently quackity had won the fight, having threatened to chase after them and kill them. Techno begrudgingly went to get executed a second time. Thankfully he lived however, thanks to ranboo and tubbo stopping it. The two of them were currently at the blades house. 

Tommy didnt wanna deal with seeing tubbo, but he knew he couldn't stay out here for more than an hour. He sighed. “Hey (y/n), how would you like it if you might get to meet new friends?” (y/n) looked at him, smiling. “Yeah new friends!!” he smiled, picking up the excited child. “Let's go back to uncle technos!” “uncle techy!!!” Tommy and (y/n) laughed. Tommy got ready and left for the tundra.

Hopefully tubbo wouldn't be there when he got there.

[swagatron9]

Protective Aura

Pairings: Sang-Woo x reader

Warnings: The fight scene so obviously violence and death. Also creepy man.

It hadn't even been a few minutes after the lights were turned off before the screams started.

I was thankful that screams came from the other side of the room, at least then I was protected from that person who was clearly filled with bloodlust.

The lights began to flicker as everyone started to rush around in panic.

I stayed on the top of the bunks where my bed was and watched as the chaos started. Before my own eyes people were dropping dead, and all I could was watch out of fear of moving.

I hadn't made friends with anyone in here, meaning if it came down to it, I wouldn't have anyone there to help me when I get attacked.

The screams got louder, and it made it worse whenever I'd hear them abruptly stop, signaling to me that they had died.

The sound of the metal crashing to the ground as the bunk beds were pushed over echoed throughout the room, this caused me to panic due to being on the top bed.

When I looked down to the ground and noticed no one underneath, I quietly began to climb down so I wouldn't be at risk of hitting the ground from a far height.

When I reached the bottom bed, my eyes widened as I noticed the bloody body laying lifeless in the sheets. Every time the light flickered on, I got a better view of the blood that pooled around the body.

I let out a shaky breath as I reached the ground, my eyes not leaving the corpse. I felt tears threatening to fall as I turned around, only to be met with a rather large man holding a weapon in his hand.

I ducked as the man swung towards me and hit the pole of the bed behind me.

I quickly recovered from my position and attempted to run away from man only to be grabbed and shoved back into the bed frames.

I let out a groan when my back came in contact with the metal bars.

When the lights flickered on, it revealed the man to have an eerie looking smirk wide on his face. From the close proximity I was able to hear his heavy breathing, and it somehow manage to drown out the noises of the screaming.

"Aren't you a cute little thing." The hand that still held his weapon, came up to my cheek as he used his knuckle to rub against my skin.

I moved my head as far back as possible, which wasn't much considering I was pinned against the wall. "Please, let me go." I whimpered as he grab a handful of my hair and brought my face close.

I felt my whole body shiver as I heard the man in front of me sniff my hair, and that was my last straw.

With as much strength as I could muster, I kicked my foot into his crotch and pushed him off me. The man tumbled down allowing me to leave the corner I was trapped in.

I found myself in the middle of the main room with no where else to run.

Everywhere I look there were either people fighting, or bodies on the ground. There wasn't a single spot where I could hide from the onslaught of people.

My eyes lingered on 456, he too was frantically looking around the room. After observing him from the previous game, I figured that he was my best chance at survival as he would most likely let me stick with him.

I made my way over to 456, making sure to constantly look around so I could get there safely.

As soon as I was about to reach him, I noticed a man running towards me at full speed with a metal pole in his hand.

Almost like he was a distraction, the man stopped before he could hit me and I was taken by surprise as I felt a chunk of fabric being wrapped around my neck.

My hands instantly came up in an attempt to free my neck from the tight grip. Once I realized that I wouldn't be able to get myself free from that, I started to swing my hands back as hard as I could.

With a solid punch to the face, the person behind me eased his grip allowing me to fling myself out of their hold and into another person.

I fell to the floor, on top of the person that I launched myself into. 218 was displayed on the jacket and I looked up to see a man that I had regularly seen with 456.

He stared at me, and I stared back, until a voice called out to him. "Sang-Woo, are you alright?" 456, and 199 stood beside us with concerned looks on their faces.

I quickly got up from the awkward position that we were in, and bowed my head to apologize. "I'm sorry-" I turned towards 456. "-do you mind if I stick with you guys? I don't have anyone else to stay with."

Sang-Woo got up from the floor and the three of them looked towards each other, him and 199 seemed hesitant, but 456 was quick to welcome me in. "Of course you can." He smiled at me.

I thanked them before following close behind, keeping a watch on their backs.

I noticed the two men from before were staring directly at me as they made their way close. "Two people are coming over." I called out to the three in front.

Before they could actually reach us, Sang-Woo jumped in front of me and hit one of them with a metal pole and 199 hit the other one.

Sang-Woo turned back around to me, in the light I saw his eyes wander over me before he nodded towards me. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly.

I nodded my head in response and he did the same thing. Sang-Woo looked down at the pole in his hands before he handed it towards me. "Take it-" I grabbed the pole. "The men in here will probably go after you first before they come after us, it's best if you have something to protect yourself." With that being said, he walked past me, leaving me to have a mini freak out over the sound of his voice.

After that the men in pink suits busted through and took everyone that died out of the room, the night went by peaceful and without any interruptions.

When we went to sleep, I found myself shuffling closer to the man with 218 on his jacket as he radiated a protective aura that I wanted to stay near by.