#losing my mind over how close this deadline is

[sebs-studies]

4.9.23

Escaped the heat - why is it 28°C in September? - with Starbucks iced coffee (it's a business expense shhh). Terrifying to think that in a fortnight my internship will be over. Going through the final stages of data analysis and writing up the reports!

This week is actually extremely busy schedule wise so taking the opportunity to also work on my pre-reading tonight, I've put off my economic policy reading as long as possible *sigh*.

[elixirfromthestars]

Lines Crossed

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (College AU)

Summary: You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warning(s): 18+ mdni / drinking / jealousy / forced proximity / smut / female reader / drunk jerk (stranger) / tension / will they won't they oh they will 🫣❤️‍🔥 / sex w/protection / pet names / sprinkles of possessive + protective Bucky so be prepared / there's a build-up so enjoy ❣️

Prompt: oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

a/n: Please be kind this is my first time writing something like this. 🥺🩶 I decided to challenge myself and join @mercurial-chuckles‘ smutty September fest. A tad late on the deadline because Hurricane Helene decided to take the power out. 😭 This is a standalone fic, but you can most definitely read it (and is intended to be) as a continuation of the events of A Night of Frights & Delights. Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! ❤️❤️

part one backstory // divider // ambiance 🤍

You step into the foyer of the Stark Manor, a grand staircase greets you, its golden railing glowing underneath an ornate chandelier. Various guests mingle around the manor, the buzz of conversation accompanying the music that pulses throughout. Everything about the sight in front of you screams old wealth and elegance. 

Your eyes scan the luxurious home with an expression of awe. Despite being invited before, you had never come to one of Tony’s parties. Choosing the comfort of your bed and your favorite show instead. However, this time knowing a certain captain of the baseball team would be here—and your history with him—well you just had to come. 

As you take it all in, your gaze locks on a pair of beautiful blues. The very same ones you were thinking of all day. And by the way he was looking at you, you knew he was awaiting your arrival just as much as you had been waiting to see him. 

There was no denying he most certainly had been. 

Bucky had arrived about half an hour earlier with some of his teammates. His impatience grew by the second at your absence. He was dying to see what you wore for the party. You denied him any sneak peeks, which only fueled his excitement. He tried distracting himself by greeting anyone he could and making conversation, but he continuously gravitated to the foyer, waiting for the moment you stepped in through those doors. 

When you finally did, Bucky knew with the utmost certainty that the wait was worth it. When his eyes met yours you knocked the air straight out of his lungs with the black dress you were wearing. The satin dawning your body accentuated your silhouette perfectly—and the high slit at your right leg showed off the right amount of skin. The way you did your hair and your makeup complimented you perfectly, and Bucky was losing his goddamn mind because of it.  

Sincerely, he was close to whisking you away and keeping you all to himself. 

You looked nothing short of beyond stunning. Bucky had been holding back for months, staying within the lines you drew that night in the tent, and honestly, he deserved a medal for that. It’s the hardest thing he's ever done. What he felt for you couldn’t measure up to anything else in his life. Never had he felt so over the moon in his feelings for anyone. Yet, you brought on those sentiments by just being you. He was sure if he wasn’t in love with you yet, he was damn near close to it. 

And right now, seeing you in that dress, his mind is going to places it shouldn’t. Places that only belonged to him and his bed on those nights you left him wanting more. Thoughts and scenarios where the night ends with him tearing that dress right off you and showing you just how serious he is about wanting you. 

He’s not so sure he can be on his best behavior tonight. 

Bucky discards the drink he had been holding and saunters over to you. Your heart races in your chest when you see the way his blues darken when he rakes his eyes over your form—shamelessly drinking you up. You take in his figure as well, the all-black suit giving him an aura of class and sophistication that was stirring something dangerous within you. 

Bucky cleaned up good, real good.

He stops a mere foot away from you, his eyes twinkling with intentions both of you long for. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until his voice broke you out of your trance. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you leave my side tonight, not in that dress,” Bucky’s voice is deeper than usual, contrasting the charming grin on his face. You roll your eyes playfully, “I don’t need a babysitter, Bucky,” you reply amused at the thought. Having Bucky by your side all night would definitely lead to you two enjoying each other’s company in other ways. 

Not that you would object if it did. 

Bucky’s hand reaches out to touch you, your heart skipping a beat as he adjusts the strap of your dress on your shoulder. His touch lingers for a second more as a light chuckle escapes him. “Maybe not you sweetheart, but I might. Someone’s going to have to keep me in check tonight. I already have a hard enough time keeping my hands off of you and now you walk in looking like a masterpiece and I'm supposed to keep my hands to myself?” He bites his bottom lip for a moment, almost as if to stop himself from saying too much. 

“Something tells me you’re going to lay it on thick tonight, aren't you?” You tease him, all the while your body thrums with the way he compliments you. Bucky always knows exactly what to say to make you feel like the only girl in the room. An effortless gift he had only when it came to you.

“Can you blame me, baby? You walk in and suddenly it's like no one else exists,” his tone is softer, yet serious when he says this. Your heart skipped a beat when he called you baby. The weight of his attention felt in every fiber of your being. Bucky only ever called you baby when he wanted to really affect you. Reminding you of the pull he had over you.  

The spell you two were under was suddenly broken by Darcy, who rushed over to where you were standing and linked your arm with hers. “Sorry! I’m going to steal her away for a bit there Bucky!” She says unapologetically as she tears you away from the man who looks like he could have devoured you if your friend hadn't interrupted. Your protests fall on deaf ears so you're left waving a small—but not definite—farewell to Bucky. 

It seemed Bucky’s friends had been waiting for the right moment to steal him away too. As soon as you were in another room Sam and Steve went up to Bucky and dragged him to whatever antics the baseball team was up to. His disappointment matches yours, but if there was one thing he had proven all these months was that he had a lot of patience. He knew you two would end up crossing each other’s paths more than once tonight. It was only a matter of time. 

“You forgot you promised to stick by my side tonight. My ex is here, I need the support,” Darcy reminds you with a slight pout. She looks like a ball of fire with the way she pulls you through the crowd in her crimson dress. Her eyes dart to every guest looking to avoid her ex at all costs.

“I didn’t forget. I was just saying hi to a friend,” you explain emitting a snort from Darcy, “A friend? If he’s just a friend than I’m the Queen of England.” You roll your eyes, a small huff of a laugh leaving your lips. Darcy wasn’t wrong. You and Bucky weren’t just friends, but you also weren’t anything more—and that was by your account. 

You and Bucky have fallen into a grey area of what you are to each other. At first, after the camping trip, you tried avoiding him. Not because what happened upset you—but because you couldn’t trust yourself around him after that. Making out with him in that tent made you realize that what you thought had been an annoyance towards Bucky was actually the beginning of a deep-rooted crush. One that bubbled to the surface after that night. 

Avoiding him altogether was an impossible task when he lived in the other apartment in the duplex you rented. Especially after he insisted on giving you rides back and forth from campus with the excuse that now that you two were friends it's only natural for him to be more friendly. By his definition, it also included things like buying you food on days he knows you’ve been too busy to get something for yourself, walking you to your classes whenever he has the chance, and going with you to art exhibitions to dabble in your passion with you. 

Oh, and it also included kissing you mercilessly during tutoring sessions. 

Around the time that fall semester began, Bucky asked you if you could tutor him on a few subjects. He hadn’t done the greatest academically last semester and he wanted to keep his grades up before baseball season started. You were hesitant at first, but ultimately gave in when you realized how sincere he was about needing the help. 

Tutoring Bucky meant spending lots of time with him after classes. The sessions were innocent at first, but after the first time kissing on your bed, Bucky made it a tradition to have his lips on yours, and his hands wandering your body at every session. He even stopped hosting parties at his place, preferring being in your room and getting drunk on the taste of you. 

Bucky was too infatuated by you to ever want to do anything else. Studying was an afterthought whenever you were around, and yet he was doing better than he ever had before in all his classes. Being someone you could be proud of was honestly the best motivation he could ask for. 

Deep down you knew you were falling for him. There was a bit of apprehension on your part as you hadn’t known Bucky to ever have a girlfriend. From what you can remember, ever since you’ve known him, he was the kind of guy who preferred flirting and casual encounters. And there was no guarantee you would be the one to break that. So to keep yourself safe you drew those lines—built those walls up high to guard your heart. Bucky respected those lines and never crossed them. No matter how badly he wanted to. 

Some days, like today, made you want to say screw the lines and just give in to what you desired most. However, when that desire included lowering those walls you put in place, you weren’t brave enough to risk it—so you didn’t. Instead, you and Bucky danced around those lines until it drove you both mad. 

Your thoughts follow you for the next hour as you stay by Darcy’s side. Bucky has this natural way of consuming your mind lately—and your sketchbook. You wish you had it with you right now because when your feelings decide to overflow you channel that intensity onto the paper. For months, every page had been filled with graphite drawings of Bucky. His smile, his eyes, his determined expression when studying, his confident stance during baseball games, and everything else that sparked the creative fire in you. You found a lot of solace in drawing him. 

Bucky was undoubtedly your favorite muse. 

You're so lost in your thoughts you don’t register you’re in the kitchen of the manor until the guests around you cheer. It seems Darcy and Thor have fallen into a friendly competition of sorts to see who could down more shots than the other in one minute. A group of spectators and friends have gathered in the kitchen to watch the showdown go down. Your eyes dart to Jane who only gives you a half-amused, half-exasperated look. She is not looking forward to having to drive those two home later.

Contrary to your friends, you weren’t drinking much tonight. Bucky’s lingering presence at the party was all your senses needed to feel like you were in a daze. For appearances, however, you decide to grab one of the red solo cups to blend in with the rest of those around you. 

“Hey, Y/n! Enjoying the party?” A male’s voice comes from your right and when you turn to see who it is a friendly smile appears on your face. It was Ian Boothby, a fellow art major at your university. You’ve had him in enough of your classes to consider him a friend. 

“Hey, Ian. Yeah, I’m having a good time. Are you?” Your question is a catalyst for a much longer chat with Ian. The two of you fall into light conversation about the semester, art, and other relevant topics. It's a nice breath of fresh air compared to the thoughts that had been consuming you tonight. Especially when he tells you the story of one of his painting mishaps causing you to laugh along with him.

Soon after, a hand snakes its way around your waist, and when you smell that familiar woody muskiness you know exactly who it is. 

“Having fun without me, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice has a slight edge to it as he speaks, his lips forming a smirk. You face him and the look in his eyes stills you. 

Bucky does not look pleased. 

“Bucky, hey man. How’s baseball prep?” Ian beats you to it by addressing Bucky first. Bucky's eyes flick between you and Ian before he presses you into his side by the hold on your waist. This does not go unnoticed by Ian.

“Boothby, it's going good. How’s the cross-country season treating you?” Bucky asks, his tone giving away how uninterested he is in continuing this conversation. If Ian picks up on the animosity he doesn’t show it as he goes on and on about the sport. Bucky’s impatience grows the more he speaks and his hold on you gets a little more firm. When Bucky’s expression finally gives way to how he genuinely feels Ian finds a way to excuse himself and exit the conversation.

A beat passes before you finally speak, “Ian’s my friend. You didn’t have to scare him off like that,” you say with slight annoyance. Bucky clicks his tongue as he eyes you closely, “I didn’t, but I felt like it,” he shrugs cooly. “Didn't like the way he was looking at you.” He adds, his thumb rubbing small circles on your waist.

“Oh? And how was he looking at me?” 

“Like in the way only I should be.” 

The possessiveness in his voice catches you off guard. The air electrifying around you both at his words. You weren’t going to drink, but you suddenly felt the need to. You take a sip of the substance in your cup, the bitter liquid doing little to ground you. Bucky can tell how he’s affecting you and joins you with his drink. His eyes never leave yours as he gulps some of it down. 

You have to stop yourself from inhaling the entire thing in one go. 

“Ian’s harmless. He’s just comfortable with me because he’s an art major too. I’ve had a lot of classes with him,” you do your best to continue the conversation and ignore the way your body heats up when Bucky gives your hip a possessive squeeze. Massaging the area afterward in gentle strokes.

“You do a lot of bonding over paint?” Bucky’s response is slightly mocking, licking his lips to catch a drop of alcohol that wanted to escape. His eyes twinkle with mischief as he relishes the way you're looking at him now. Your gaze trained on his lips. When you realize he’s noticed, the heat from your body goes straight to your face.

You wouldn’t let him have the upper hand though. Never. 

“Well, when you have to sketch someone’s naked body you obviously become friendly,” your reply causes Bucky to choke on his drink, the hand at your hip falling as he uses it to grab a few napkins from the granite counter behind him to wipe at the mess he made. You hide a wicked grin behind the rim of your cup. 

He narrows his eyes at you, “Excuse me? What does that mean?” He knows what you mean, but he’s giving you a chance to tell him you're joking. He’s not hiding the jealousy that crawls up his spine at your revelation. 

“It means Ian’s a nude model for some of my classes. He may not look like it but underneath those layers, he’s got the most gorgeous—” Bucky cuts you off with a fierce kiss, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you into him. There’s been plenty of times you’ve shut him up with your mouth and it was his turn to return the favor. Because hearing you talk about the naked body of another man gets under his skin in ways he wasn’t used to.  He wasn’t going to just stand there and hear another word of it. 

The kiss catches you by surprise, but soon your drink is discarded in favor of pulling him closer by his blazer. Not caring who sees or what anyone thinks, since it’s the first time you’ve ever kissed in front of others. Your craving for him was far too loud to ignore anymore. Your lips stay locked until your lungs burn begging for air.

Bucky pulls away with a smug smile, his voice an octave lower as he moves to whisper in your ear, “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. I know you love getting a rise out of me, but just so we’re clear—next time you want to mess with me like that—I’ll make sure you can’t even stand after I’m through with you,” his declaration causes a shiver to make its way up your spine. 

You swallow hard, your mouth opening to say something, but no sound comes out. Bucky lets out a rough chuckle, ghosting his lips against your cheek before pulling away to stare at how speechless he’s left you. He’s blatantly savoring every second of it. 

You want to say something—anything. Something witty or playful, but the thought of him making good on his promise—the image it conjures in your mind—keeps you silent.

“Buck! You’re needed at beer pong! Tony’s team is winning and the bet is up to five hundred,” Steve rushes into the kitchen, breaking through the bubble you two were in. His eyes dart between you and Bucky with a knowing look. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling at the sight of you two. 

You start to register there’s still an extravagant party happening around you.  

Bucky sighs with slight irritation as he once again gets his moment with you interrupted. He reluctantly tears his attention away from you to call back to Steve, “I’ll be right there!” Steve nods in approval before going back the way he came. 

Now’s your chance to say something, but Bucky pulls away from your body before you can. A coldness replacing where his touch used to be. “Hold that thought, baby. Looks like my team needs their star player,” he winks at you before placing a tender kiss on your forehead, “you keep thinking about what I said while I’m gone,” he says in a gruff whisper, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip in a barely there touch. 

He knows he needs to leave before he takes this somewhere you can’t go back from. 

Bucky doesn’t give you a chance to say anything as he makes a smooth exit. Heading out of the kitchen in the direction of the beer pong game. Your body prickling with an ever growing sexual frustration. You were embarrassingly close to snatching Bucky away and giving in to all your desires in one of the many rooms of the manor. 

“You two need to get a room,” Jane seems to read your mind as she teases you. Appearing from behind you once Bucky was no longer in sight. You can’t deny her words, letting out a small huff, “I don’t know what good that would do. I’ve been clear about not wanting to take things further.” You explain to her, not sure if you could go back on your words for the sake of giving in to what you want now. Jane has had this conversation with you a few times before, and it appears she's hit her limit today. 

 “That man is absolutely head over heels for you. How can you not see that?” Jane shakes her head at you, wondering how she can make you realize what you already know yet deny. There's a vulnerability that overcomes you when you reply, “It’s not that I don’t see it. I just—I’ve never seen him be serious about anyone. The only thing he’s ever serious about is baseball.” Jane looks like she’s about to do something drastic at your denial. 

“Y/n, Bucky is serious about you. He’s literally all about you—he’s chosen you over baseball many times. I’m not around him like you are and even I can see it clear as day. Do you know Thor and like half of the baseball team thinks you two are secretly dating? Stop denying what you know deep down is true and just give in—be happy,” Jane tells it like it is, her tone leaving no room for argument or denial. 

For so long Bucky has shown you another side of him—one not many get to see. He’s given you priority and importance when he didn’t have to. Care and consideration when you needed it most. A shoulder to lean on and a steady support to rely on. Time and time again Bucky has demonstrated how much you mean to him.

Perhaps, you both have been something more to each other for a long time and Bucky’s kept his wishes at bay to make sure things developed at your pace. 

When it finally hits you, you almost feel exposed by how skillfully Jane can read you. At how easily she can see the situation for what it is and not for what your worries twisted it to be. If Bucky had made it clear to you how he felt, what was stopping you from taking things further than they had been before?

At this point, nothing, nothing was stopping you but yourself.

This realization follows you to the dance floor. A very drunk Darcy had pulled you to it along with Jane, babbling tipsily after losing the drinking competition to Thor. You had never seen a living room with such high ceilings before or enough room to host a makeshift dance floor and a DJ booth. The living space had been stripped of its furniture and supplied with top-notch equipment to make it resemble the inside of a club. 

At least in the near darkness, it resembled one.

You’re in a huddle of your closest friends, all of them letting the music guide their movements to their heart’s content. You sway absentmindedly, so you're not merely standing there awkwardly. The kaleidoscope of party lights strobe and kiss your skin with an array of colors as the music thumps around your body. 

A loud cheer catches your attention, the source of the sound coming from a table on the far left end of the room. Tony and his friends were boisterous as they made a shot against their opponent's team in beer pong—Bucky’s team. You had a clear view of it all from where you stood. 

Bucky’s team seems to be taking turns on who drinks every time Tony’s team makes a shot. They look amongst themselves until Bucky steps up and chugs the liquid in the red solo cup. It's like he can feel the shift in the air because as soon as the cup is away from his lips his eyes scan the space and find you, and suddenly it's like you two are the only two people in the room. 

You want him—all of him. You enjoy the teases, the banter, the back and forth, but you know you’d enjoy calling him yours more. 

The music picks up in tempo as your boldness grows. Keeping your eyes trained on him, your hips begin to sway provocatively, tempting him to say screw the game and make his way towards you instead. Bucky’s not even paying attention to the game anymore his eyes soaking up your every move as it fans the flames of desire between you. The atmosphere around you buzzes as the ground shakes due to the sea of dancing bodies, and yet nothing thrums within you more than your need for Bucky. 

The little show you’re putting on for him continues as you roll and wave your body in ways that seduce him. Ghosting your hand along the curves and dips of your figure showing him exactly where you’d like his hands to be. Bucky’s mind is reeling with everything he wants to do to you and none of it involves the dance floor and all of it involves you and him in some private corner of the manor where he can show you exactly what his hands are capable of. 

You are making it impossibly hard for him to concentrate on anything else. 

Slowly and with shady intentions a group of drunk guys circle the huddle of you and your friends like vultures. Finding their way to snake themselves into any corner or crevice they can fit into. Their bodies bumping and grazing against yours. There’s one guy in particular that has his sights set on you. Getting closer to you on the dancefloor and creeping his hands along your waist. You swat his hands away, but he doesn’t disperse immediately. The alcohol on his breath fanning your face causing you to gag. The more you dismiss him the more adamant he was about keeping you close to him. 

Almost instantly, a protective grip pulls you away from the drunk guy. A familiar warmth encases you as Bucky pulls you into his chest, your back to him. Your hands find their way to hold his arms to ease the displeasure the drunk had caused.

Bucky glares at the drunk guy, his gaze cold and unapologetic, “Alright, that's enough.” The drunk guy sneers, his words slurred, “What the—what’s your problem bro? We’re just—” Bucky doesn’t let him finish, “Shut up. You’re not doing anything. You’ve got two seconds to back off or we’re going to have a problem,” Bucky’s reply is sharp and menacing. He directs it to all the men that had swarmed you and your friends. 

Shifting you so you stand at his side, Bucky steps forward to let the guys know he’s not messing around. Your hold goes to his right arm where you’re watching the exchange unfold anxiously. You hope things don’t escalate, not wanting Bucky to get into a scuffle. You know he can handle himself, but the idea of him getting hurt in any way caused your heart to ache. 

The guys size Bucky up and it seems some of them think they can take him on. Until the strobing lights illuminate Bucky’s darkened gaze enough that in their drunk haze, they finally recognize him as captain of the baseball team. That means that fighting Bucky meant taking on the entirety of the team. And with the way Sam and Steve were looking over to see if they needed to step in, and Thor was already storming over—they knew they didn’t stand a chance.

It was comical the way the drunk men scramble to get away as fast as they could. Muttering incoherences and apologies under their breath. They don’t get far as Tony’s hired security for the night promptly kicks them out. 

Thor comes up to check on everyone, giving special attention to Jane who keeps assuring him she’s fine. You turn to Bucky, who’s already inspecting you to make sure you are alright, “Bucky I—” You almost tell him not to worry, that you had things under control, but in reality, you’re glad Bucky stepped in. 

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, Bucky’s tense demeanor softens at your words. He moves to get a better hold on you, his grip at your waist protective teetering on possessive. 

“You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart. I got you—always,” Bucky’s genuine response makes your heart flutter and your pulse quicken. Your senses are awakened by his proximity, completely enamored with the way he looks at you. 

“Plus, if I’m going to fall for the most beautiful girl in the world, I have to know how to fight right?” Bucky says this like it's the most obvious thing, smirking at the way you don’t hide the smitten grin he elicits from you. There’s a sparkle in your eyes as you stare at him, Bucky’s heart racing at the sight of it.

 “You and your compliments,” you give a breathless laugh, letting your guard down for once and going with the flow. Bucky can sense it. Sense the way there’s a shift between you, the blossoming of something bigger being accepted and not pushed away by you anymore.

“Only for my girl,” he says this like a promise. His right-hand goes up to gently brush against your cheek. You lean into the touch, that same hand cupping your cheek in response. Bucky has never felt more elated knowing that maybe finally you two can go to places he’s only dreamed of. 

“Yours?” You question him playfully, which causes him to chuckle, the sound a low rumble, “You and I both know you are, sweetheart. I told you I had all the time in the world to make you fall for me—and I meant it,” he smiles, an intense fire in his eyes that only accumulates when you respond, “You don’t have to wait any longer, Bucky.”

He wastes no second to connect your lips, kissing you with a loving purpose. His lips have a slightly bitter taste to them from the beer that still lingered there. And yet, the bitterness disappears when one kiss turns into two and then three. His arms encircling you to pull you into his chest, your hands finding their way to the nape of his neck.

Bucky pulls away to ghost his lips against your jaw until his lips brush against your ear, “Those little moves you were doing for me earlier, do them again,” his husky tone sends a shiver down your spine as he tugs you in to dance with him. Your bodies mold to one another, hips swaying in rhythm with the vigorous music. The beat allows you to gyrate and grind in ways that drive him to the edge of his control. 

His hand rests on the small of your back, holding you close, fingers splayed out as if making a silent claim. You can feel the way his gaze burns into you, the air getting hotter making it harder to breathe. Your hands trail up and down his arms as need be. The rest of the party fades away leaving you two alone in this space of this charged energy. Every lingering touch and longing glance is layered with unspoken urges that would soon intensify to the brink of madness. 

“You have no idea what you do to me do you?” 

“I do. I’m not immune to what’s going on between us, Bucky.”

Your body, your voice, the way you plead with your eyes for him to take this further—it causes a stirring within his pants—the fabric getting tighter the longer the dance goes on. He needs to get you away, to get you alone. Bucky needs to satiate this hunger for you that threatens to consume him or he is going to end up doing something Rated R on this dance floor. 

The throbbing between your legs agrees. 

An idea pops into Bucky’s mind when he glances at his group of friends. He increases the volume of his voice so you can hear him over the music, “The baseball team was going to host a game of hide and seek. Should we play?” Playful mischief glimmers in his eyes as he asks you. 

“Hide and seek? Seriously?” You raise a brow, wondering how that was going to work in a mansion full of a million rooms.

“Yeah, come on. It'll be fun,” Bucky draws you away from the dance floor and over to where his friends are mingling and taking a few shots. Steve sees Bucky approach and they have a quick whispered exchange. Your eyes dart between them, curious as to what they're discussing.

“Seems like we’re getting a head start,” he comments to you as he leads you away from the main party and down a few intricate hallways. His hold on your hand is firm, yet careful—almost as if he’s afraid you’ll get lost in one of the many corners of the manor. The thrum of the music fades the further you slip away from the party. Your pulse spikes, both from the adrenaline of the game and the heat that still simmers between you.

Bucky has been to Tony’s parties plenty of times before, so he knows the layout of the manor pretty well. The clicking of your heels along the marble floors echoes at the pace of the beating of his heart. He tries to focus on the expensive artwork that lines the halls instead of the way your hand perfectly fits in his. The artwork is what’s guiding his path through the manor and you are the best distraction he could ask for. 

“Where are we going?” Your voice echoes down the endless hallway. 

“Somewhere no one will find us,” he winks at you, your heart skipping a beat at his words, his pace steady and purposeful as he turns one more corner and slips you two inside a room. You're encased in darkness, blindly feeling for a light switch until Bucky uses the flashlight on his phone to illuminate the space. You faintly make out your surroundings. You seem to be in one of the many guest rooms of the manor. The attention to detail in the room was no short of the attention paid to the rest of the place.

You knew Tony’s family had money, but seeing how they splurged for a mere guest room, meant his family was beyond loaded. 

Bucky whispered something to you, but you didn’t catch it as he took you by the hand and ushered you into the room’s closet, clicking it shut behind him. He reaches up to turn on the small lightbulb to cascade the enclosed space in a soft glow, turning off the flashlight on his phone and putting it in his pants pocket. The tension is now thicker and more palpable in the small space, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

If you had a dollar for every time you and Bucky ended up in a tight space together, you would have exactly two dollars. While maybe strange, it somehow seemed fitting for you two. 

Bucky steps closer to you, your bodies inches apart, the dim light doing nothing to dull the intensity in his eyes, “Now that I’ve got you here—I think I did a good job with the hiding spot, don't you?” His heated whisper brings your breath to a hitch. 

You have to clear your throat to compose yourself, “I don’t know…We had a whole mansion to hide in, and you chose a closet?” You can’t help but tease him, trying to lighten the unbearable tension. 

“Would you rather go hide in the library? The wine cellar? The arcade?” His voice is dripping with mirth taking another step closer to you. He knows what you're doing, but he’s not going to let the tension die down—not this time.  

“The arcade sounds fun,” you quip, leaning back against the wall. 

“Hm, maybe, but I prefer the closet. It’s a lot more private and it has its…advantages,” he reaches out to pull your hand up to his lips, planting a soft kiss across your knuckles. You go to use that hand to lightly push at his chest, but he catches it in time and intertwines your fingers instead. Your heart is racing a mile a minute. 

“Maybe the closet isn’t so bad, but these heels…Worst decision I made tonight,” you shift slightly, not meaning to change the subject, but your heels are torturing you. In the quiet of the closet the pain begins to creep up on you, begging to be acknowledged. After hours of walking on them, dancing, and standing overall—your feet were killing you. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stand upright while hiding. 

“Are they hurting you?” 

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Lets get them off then,” Bucky slides his hand underneath your right thigh, eyes locked on yours, as he hikes it up against the outside of his leg. Your hips brush up against his front, your breath catching at the intimacy of the moment. He watches your every reaction as he slides his hand down the underside of your leg until he reaches the strap of your heel. He’s able to undo it effortlessly, relieving you of the discomfort, his fingers grazing your ankle as he slides your right heel off. His every touch leaves heat in its wake. 

“Bucky you really don't have to—” he cuts you off with a soft smile and half-lidded eyes, switching his hold from your right leg to your left one, “I want to, sweetheart. Just let me help, ” he removes the other heel with the same tantalizing tenderness he used for the first one. Putting them to the side where they won’t get in the way.

The relief you feel is immediate.

“Better?” 

“Much.” 

“Good.” 

A moment passes before he speaks, his voice quiet with an underlying devotion, “You don’t get the hold you have on me, do you?’’ His right hand dances along the outside of your thigh while his left plays with the strap of your dress, twirling it between his fingers. The hand at your thigh traces patterns onto it. Trailing intricate swirls across the flesh, along your hips, ascending to your waist, and all the way up to the space between your breasts. The touch lingers there when you let out a soft sigh. 

You honestly forget how to breathe. 

“Say the word and I’m all yours, Y/n,” his voice is rough as his lips ghost against yours—seductively grazing against them. Going so far as licking his lips with an invigorating grin to really drive you crazy.

Bucky is waiting for you to make the deciding move. When you realize this, you throw all caution to the wind, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. You waste no time in granting him access to deepen it. Bucky follows your lead ardently. His hands snake down your body to cup your ass and pull you impossibly close to him. 

Your hands get lost in his hair, a groan rumbling through him at the way you tug at it. You two aren’t sweetly kissing, you're devouring each other. Yearning for the other all night leaves no more room for taking things slow or holding back. You’re both now giving in to what you want most—each other. 

The heat between you intensifies until it crescendos to a boiling point. The aching between your legs imploring you to do something about it. You reach down to tug at the waistband of his pants, causing Bucky to let out a husky laugh. 

“If you want something use your words, sweetheart,” he mutters against your lips, you suppress a groan, “You know what I want. I don't have to say it,” you retort impatiently. Bucky shakes his head, smiling despite himself, “I want to hear you say it,” he dips his head to the crook of your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. The hands on your ass give it a light squeeze emitting a small gasp from you. You can feel the shit-eating grin on your neck. 

“Bucky….I…” your words are cut off by a soft moan when Bucky’s left hand sneaks its way through the slit of your dress until he reaches the inside of your thighs. He massages the flesh there, his thumb brushing against the hem of your panties. 

Your arousal pools impossibly more, and the lustful haze only increases at the way you feel his hardened cock straining against his pants—right against your hip. 

“Mm? What was that, baby? Couldn’t hear you over those pretty noises you're making,” his every word drips with cockiness. 

“You're insufferable.”

“That’s my girl.” 

Bucky kisses your neck with more fervor. Sucking and nipping at the skin hard enough to leave marks. Your thighs involuntarily close together at the way he calls you his girl. He eases them back apart with his deliberate touches. Kneading the soft flesh in his hands as his breathing goes ragged along your neck, tickling your skin. He was on the brink of losing what little control he had left. 

You suck in a sharp breath, losing what little semblance of control you had left the higher his touch gets. He only goes so far, barely brushing across your clothed cunt to give you a taste of what he can do if you just let him hear it. You were desperate for more and he knew it. 

 “Fuck me, Bucky,” you manage to whimper out, hooking your fingers into his empty belt loops and yanking him towards you. Bucky lets out a low growl at the brief friction, his eyes darkening to an almost unrecognizable color. For a moment, his brain short circuits at your words, processing that you really said that to him accompanied by that alluring sound. He’s heard those sinful noises from you before, but never like this. Never with the assurance of more. 

“Say it again.”

“Bucky, please just fuck me already.”

You don’t have to tell him another time. Bucky crashes his mouth onto yours with a new intensity, mumbling lustful promises into your mouth. How he wants you, how badly he aches to make you feel good, how he yearns for his pretty girl to lose herself with him, and so many more things that make you dizzy. 

He moves to bunch up your dress, hiking it up your legs until it's bundled at your waist. His breathing strains at the sight—your black lacy panties luring him in—his muscles tensing at the growing need to be inside you. His left arm reaches down to hook his forearm under your knee and bring it up to his hip. You wrap that leg around him, steadying yourself on your other foot as you grind against each other. You can feel the way his cock aches to be freed and it causes you to arch deeper into him. Your moans mingle into one, the slight relief overwhelming you. 

Bucky takes his free hand and splays it at the small of your back, offering strong support as your bodies continue to grind against one another. A chorus of moans and yearnful whines erupt from you both. All of the pining and hunger for one another amalgamates into one as you continue to rub against each other. You swallow each other’s sounds, tongues tangling carnally as neither of you leaves any room for air.

“Do you have—?”

“Back pocket. Wallet.”

Your lips barely disconnect at the brief exchange. You reach behind him, patting down his backside until you feel the outline of his wallet in his pocket. You take hold of it and bring it forward. Meanwhile, Bucky decides to leave wet kisses along the valley of your breasts. You can barely contain yourself and your soft moans as you pull out the condom. The wallet almost slips from your grasp as the attention to your breasts causes you to tremble. 

You hold it tighter intending to put it back in his pocket when something catches your eye. In the clear slot where his identification should be is a polaroid picture from the weekend camping trip. You’re in that picture sitting next to Bucky on a couple of logs surrounded by your friends and peers. There’s a bright smile on Bucky’s face, his arm around your shoulder as you make bunny ears behind his head.

You love this picture. You have a copy of it taped to your bedroom mirror back home.

At your stillness, Bucky looks up to see what’s going on. When he notices you staring at the picture, he smiles fondly. " It's the only picture I had of us,” he utters softly, causing a warmth to spread throughout you. You gaze at him in tender awe, marveling at the fact that Bucky is real.

Why had you ever doubted he was anything but yours? 

You kiss him this time with all the unspoken feelings you’ve bubbled up and kept inside. The wallet falls from your hands, but it's no matter as Bucky kicks it to the side with his foot, and shudders at the way your lips claim his. This goes beyond lust. Your heart beats with reason, and that reason is the man in front of you. 

“Bucky, I want this. I want you. All of you,” you whisper passionately, your hands lowering to help him unbutton and unzip his pants, the foil neatly tucked between your fingers. A guttural moan leaves him when you push the layers of fabric down and free his cock, pumping it a few times to get a feel of it. His head falls to your shoulder, sighing softly in a near whine as you tear the foil open and roll the protection down his length. It twitches in your hands, his hips bucking at the contact. 

His arms are preoccupied with keeping you close and steady, so you gently guide him to your center. Moving your panties to the side as he tantalizingly slides along your folds before he slowly enters you. Your mouth goes agape at the sensation while Bucky has to do everything to make sure he doesn’t cum right then and there.

This was so much better than what he had imagined in his dreams. 

It's been too long since you’ve done this and the burn at the stretch causes you to cry out quietly. Bucky peppers your face with sweet kisses and whispers of devotion. Trying to do his best to comfort you as he lets you adjust inch by inch. The hand at the small of your back rubs circles into it with his thumb, your own hands shooting up to grip his biceps for support. 

“I’m not gonna last if you tighten up like that sweetheart,” he hisses a groan at how tightly your walls envelop him. You’re really making it hard for him to not come undone in a short amount of time. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby, just relax for me.”

His gentle words are accompanied by thrusts that are slow with a deliberate purpose. He’s careful with his pace as he wants this to go at whatever speed you need. It takes a bit, but his soft kisses and comforting touches coax the burn away until you're left with the ardent ache of needing more. 

“Faster, Bucky,” you plead breathily. He rests his forehead against yours.“Can you handle it, baby?” His question is full of loving concern, prioritizing your pleasure over everything.

“I can…fuck…please,” you assure him, your leg pulling him in tighter causing him to bottom out. Bucky curses and moans all in one. At your assurance, he picks up the pace of his hips, rocking them against you with a fiery velocity. The lewd sounds bouncing off the walls of the closet in waves. 

He gives it to you exactly how you asked him to. That man would do anything for you—just say the word and its done. 

Bucky is on cloud nine at the way you take him. The way your bodies mold and arch into one another’s like you can’t get enough. As if all you ever needed to consume to live was each other. When he goes to kiss you, you can barely kiss back as you’re too lost in the way he slams into you.

“Fuck, baby, if only you could see yourself. You’re so fucking gorgeous making those pretty expressions for me,” Bucky grunts out, drinking up the sight of your face. A string of mewls leaves your lips at the keen attention he keeps on you. Everything about you right now is a work of art in his eyes he wants framed and kept at his bedside. A constant reminder he’s the one who gets to make you look and feel so damn good.  

“Don’t stop, please don't stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to, sweetheart.” 

Your words egg him on to go harder, causing your back to press tightly against the wall. Hiking your leg just a tad bit higher to thrust into you at another angle. This was the best decision he ever made as he hits the perfect spot within you. One that leaves you clinging onto him desperately as your walls tighten on the brink of release. 

It takes a few more fierce drives into you until your orgasm hits you and you're cumming with a feverish intensity. Moaning Bucky’s name in a euphoric mantra that’s music to his ears. It's what brings him over the edge and he stills at the force of his orgasm, his head collapsing into the dip of your neck as he releases into the condom. 

“My girl. My sweet girl. You feel so good, baby,” Bucky softly whispers against your neck. Planting small kisses as both of you come down from your highs. Your arms wrap behind his neck to embrace him and keep him close to you. Bucky continues to mutter sweet praises along your skin, as your hands thread through his hair tenderly. Both of you steadying your breaths as you come back down to Earth. 

If it weren't for Bucky holding your right leg up, it would've fallen from its position at his hip long ago. You’re even more grateful for it now as your body felt completely boneless. And when he pulls out, its the grip he has on your body that keeps your knees from buckling.

Bucky lifts his head so his gaze locks on yours. His blues are swimming with a vehemence that steals your breath and causes your pulse to race.  

“Y/n, I…I wanted to give you some time. Time to figure things out—to figure out what you wanted. I tried pretending I was okay with pieces of you, but I’m not. I want all of you. I want to be yours,” Bucky confesses with sincerity. You reach out to interlock your hands with his, a floodgate of emotions engulfing you. 

“Bucky—” you start, but he’s not hearing it, afraid you’ll want to go back to a place that would devastate him. “Wait, just hear me out. Everything I ever did was to get you to notice me. From the moment we met there was just something about you that kept pulling me in. And I knew—I just knew I had to get to know you. And then one thing led to another and I fell for you—hard. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. There's only you. It’s always been you. Give me a chance, let me prove it to you every day, that I’m yours. That I have been for a long time,” Bucky’s tone borders on pleading, you give his hands a light squeeze to ease the worry in his features. 

“Bucky you have nothing to prove—”

“Y/n—” 

This time you stop him by clamping a hand over his mouth. 

“Bucky, you have nothing to prove because I’ve felt the same way for a long time. I just fought it for so long out of fear that maybe you weren’t serious about me. But I can see now I was wrong. I’ve been yours for a long time too, Bucky. I just pretended I wasn’t—and I’m done fighting it. I’m done being in denial. I want to have something serious with you. I’m ready for it,” your heartfelt confession immediately melts away the tension in Bucky’s shoulders. 

You wanting this as much as he did made him feel like he was on top of the world.

He mumbles something into your hand, the biggest grin on the other side of it. You laugh adoringly at the sight as you remove your hand to replace it with your mouth instead. Both of you sink into the kiss as a deeper devotion is exchanged. 

“Whoever is seeking is horrible at it,” you remove yourself with a light giggle, taking a jab at whoever the seeker of the hide-and-seek game is. A game that was long forgotten by Bucky until you mentioned it. 

Bucky smiles sheepishly, “About that…there's not actually a hide-and-seek game. And if there is they don't know we’re playing,” he confesses with a twinkle in his eyes. You shake your head at him, laughing in disbelief, “Bucky, then what were you and Steve whispering about?” Your curiosity is met with a boyish grin from Bucky, “I was just letting him know not to come looking for me. I wanted to get some alone time with you,” his hands find your hips again to give them a gentle squeeze.

Bucky is far from done with you yet. 

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at his revelation. Of course, he’d come up with a way to get you all to himself. Can you blame him? 

After a few more stolen kisses and lingering touches, you both start to compose yourselves. Adjusting your outfits and collecting your items from the ground. Thankfully, the guest room has its own bathroom where the two of you can clean up much better than in the small closet. Tousled hair, smeared makeup, and sweaty skin required a deeper attentiveness.

You both take your time in freshening up. The bathroom lighting does wonders to reveal every piece of evidence of your sexual encounter. You can now clearly see all the red marks that would eventually turn into hickeys that scattered your neck and chest. Bucky beams pleased at the markings he’s left as you scold him for making them so prominent. 

Bucky doesn’t give a damn. He’d gladly make more in an instant. 

By the end, all that's left is to get your heels on, which Bucky insists on helping you with. He offered to carry you for the rest of the party or even giving you his shoes, but you declined both options. You paid good money for these heels so whether you liked it or not, you were forcing yourself to wear them. 

Bucky helps you up onto the expansive marble counter. Lowering down onto his knees in front of you to slide your heels back onto your feet. Nimble fingers work the straps into place, making sure they're not too tight at the ankles. When he looks up at you, a devilish grin appears on his face. That spark of desire is back in your eyes when you see how good he looks knelt between your legs. Your mind was reeling with ideas as the heat once again pranced across your skin. Bucky’s gaze bore into yours, almost as if he could read your mind. He can’t help but get turned on again. 

You were in the same boat. 

“You know, I have a big stats test on Monday. I could use an emergency tutoring session right about now,” his tone is laced with suggestion as his fingers trace along your ankle. You hum, “Hm? Do you? I think I could accommodate that.” Your reply gives Bucky the go to start kissing up your legs until he reaches your knees. He never breaks eye contact as he places a tender kiss on each one before standing up and giving that same attention to your mouth.

“Perfect. Let’s get out of here, sweetheart,” Bucky mutters against your lips, the kiss a promise of the fun awaiting you for the rest of the night. Now that the lines were blurred beyond recognition, into something deeper, something real, you were both completely all in. 

[slutforpringles]

Yeah, it was a strange one the way it played out. To be honest, the more I've spoken to some of the parties involved and the more has kind of emerged, the less clear it's got actually how it's been handled, which I'd like to say is unusual in Formula One. Maybe it's not because people don't always act in F1 with their true intentions upfront. But I think the way you described it as [Daniel] processing it in real time and learning it at the same time as us, I think it's pretty much how it happened. The key thing was that Ricciardo was aware that something was going on. He's not immune to speculation. He tries not to engage with it too much, but obviously either he or the people around him are feeding him the main things. He knew that there was a deadline approaching for a decision, which primarily he thought was all about 2025. The main thing that changed was going into the Singapore weekend, the speculation had intensified that it could be about right now, a change right now. But when they went into the Singapore weekend, I know there's been a few reports and claims and counter claims around this, Helmut Marko, for example, has said that Riccardo did know because Lawson had known for two weeks already. But I don't think that's true. Bear in mind, Marko has been saying at various points this year that it could be Ricciardo's last race … I was on the phone to someone close to Riccardo last week and he joked that 'we've been sacked since April, so this hasn't really come out of the blue', that's what they've been dealing with. But I think what happened was that Ricciardo took control of the narrative over the course of the Singapore weekend. As far as I can understand, the best I can make out, nobody told Riccardo explicitly, this is your last race, we will be replacing you after this. He knew that there was a very, very good chance, probably 99% chance he was losing his drive for Lawson for the following year. And then there started to be more and more noise about it being a change for now. But he had been told during the summer break that he was good for the rest of the season, basically. So I think he was reacting to the speculation. Nobody gave him an absolutely explicit, this is 100% done and we are going to confirm that Lawson's in and you're out. So Riccardo went into the Singapore weekend saying everything he said on the Thursday, which was, you know, I wouldn't bet my house on being here at the end of the year, but that's what I expect. As far as he was aware, it was all about 25, nothing else, blah, blah, blah. But then through the weekend, you saw that change. You know, he was kind of as you said, processing it, the speculation was more intense than ever. Some of the broadcast, like the Sky Sports F1 stuff was very much laying it on thick that they understood this was his last race, etc etc. And I think Riccardo just rolled with that and just went right, Red Bull aren't going to do anything here, they're not actually going to make this official. I need to act like this is my last race weekend because I think this is going to be my last race weekend. And if I don't do it, no one's going to do it for me, which is a really sad way for it to have played out, but it just speaks to how confusing this whole mess has been.

Scott Mitchell Malm discussing how Daniel's Singapore exit was handled by Red Bull and the subsequent false media narratives that have since emerged from various players involved.

via: The Ringer F1 Show

[planetpedri]

About you — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’d been two months since Gavi asked out Lucia, two months since you’d talked to him. Two long, dreadful months. But the no contact hadn’t lasted any longer, because when the clock hit 11:40, Gavi was standing outside your door in the pouring rain, begging to talk.

Word count: 860

Disclaimer/s: this is a part two to Casual ! Angst to a hopeful ending.

A/N: this is sooo long overdue apologies..

Your house was deadly silent as you paced around, the only sound emitting throughout it was the thunder outside. Your deadline for a transfer request was in an hour, and you couldn’t make up your mind. You needed to escape, to get far away from this city. From him. But a small part of you just couldn’t make up your mind.

On one hand, the transfer to Paris gave you tons of new opportunities, but that also meant leaving all your family to live in a country you didn’t know. On the other.. that meant you could start over. Live a life free of Pablo, free of torment, and most of all, it gave you time to yourself.

As if could ever truly be free from him. As if you could ever forget him.

Twenty minutes. You had twenty minutes to accept. Hesitantly walking toward the computer, the screen shining brightly, showing the two emails you’d typed out. One accepting, the other declining.

You lick your lips, reaching toward the send button, when a knock sounds at your door. Jumping slightly, you turn around, facing the wooden door in surprise.

Without thinking, your feet move for you, dragging you toward it. Your hands too move for you, unlocking and opening the door.

In front of you is someone who’d been on your mind nonstop for years, more-so in the last few months. He was drenched from head to toe, his hoodie clinging to him as the light grey had long since turned dark. He looked like a wet puppy. How long had he been standing there?

He says your name, urgent and afraid. “Please don’t go.”

Please don’t go.

Confusion flashes across your face, how did he even find out? “What?” You choke out, heart pounding in your chest. “How—get inside. You’re going to get pneumonia.” You grumble, swinging the door wide open and stepping aside.

Pablo does as told, taking hesitant steps into the warmth of your entry way. The door had only just clicked shut when he begins to speak again, “There is so much I want to say to you, but first, I need to say i’m sorry.” He’s breathing heavily, as if he’d just run a marathon.

Mouth opening to speak, to insist he shut up, you’re the one being shut down. “No! Let me get it out! Lucia and I—we broke up. Well, she broke up with me. Said, ‘I couldn’t love her when I still clearly loved you.’ And I realized then how badly I fucked things over. Because,” he sucks in a deep breath, whispering your name like it was the most delicate thing in the world, “fuck, I love you. I love you, and i’m sorry I couldn’t admit that till I already fucked things up.”

Your mouth opens and closes for what must’ve been a hundred times, stunned by his sudden confession. “Pablo—“

“Please, don’t go to Paris. I can’t let you get away again. I need you here. I need you to stay.” His eyebrows scrunch together as he looks at you, “I need you.” He says it slowly, making sure you latched on to every syllable.

With your chest rising and falling in uneven intervals, your eyes flicker across his face. He’s desperate, like losing you would physically end him. A look only comparable to when he’d torn his ACL.

“Oh, fuck.” You groan, “oh fuck you. Why are you doing this to me? After all this time—why when i’m just about to move on. Why couldn’t you do this before I figured my shit out.”

“Because I was—I am stupid. I’m an idiot, but i’m here now. I’m here, in front of you, begging you to stay.” He pleads with his eyes, with his hands, that were twitching at his sides, trying not to hold you, with his voice.. “I’ll get on my knees, i’ll do anything. Just please, please stay.”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you try to think logically. You try to think about how much you wanted this for so long, but also how badly he’d hurt you.. Do you trust your head or your heart?

But at the end of the day, the heart always won.

“Okay.” You finally say, nodding your head slowly. “I’ll stay.” You glance at the clock on the wall a few feet away, it was 12:01. “Not like I had a choice, the deadline just passed.”

Pablo lets out a sigh of relief, one that had your eyes narrowing. “Don’t sound too upset about it.” You quip, though your voice lacked amusement.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “So—“

“You make my life so difficult.” Grumbling, you motion for him to follow you, “you need to take a warm shower, i’ll find you something to change into. I do not want to get a cold because of you.”

With a little pep in his step, Pablo trails behind you. “Okay, so what does this mean? Am I forgiven or..”

“Well, no! But you’re getting there.” You reply simply, knowing deep down he’d been forgiven the moment he uttered those five words. ‘I love you, i’m sorry.’

I just tagged everyone who asked for a part two, apologies ^_^

DTS , @halfwayhearted @pabl0andm3 @gadriezmannsgirl @spidybaby @alexis1taylorr @htpssgavi

[causenessus]

Meeting Your Eyes. | Bungou Stray Dogs

inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou (ft. cranky jouno <3), tachihara

written in 2nd pov (female implied!)

song recc: my jinji by sunset rollercoaster

word count: 1492 words

lil scenarios of meeting their eyes <3 chuuya and tachihara get special treatment with lowercase names in theirs bc their just so soft and i love them so much but they're all so sweet !!! i refuse to write dialogue in paragraphs so sorry they're mixed with the headcanons (๑´ ^ `๑) hope u enjoy!! this is my slightly late valentine's day post <33

dazai

tries to meet your eyes the whole day at the agency

peeks above your laptop screen and to the side trying to grab your attention and pouts when you don’t look at him

solely because he wants attention or because he wants to convince you to go somewhere with him

Atsushi has discovered that it’s impossible to communicate with Dazai when he gets like this

the boy can only watch as Dazai progressively gets closer to you, and by the end he’s completely on his desk and leaning over yours <3

“[Y/N]...” he whined, using a hand to move your computer screen back and forth

“yes?” you said, keeping your eyes focused on the wobbling screen

“look at meee, please?” he inched closer to your face, almost breaking your mask

you know as soon as you look at him you won’t be able to say no

he’ll be giving you puppy eyes the entire day, and he knows that if he can get you to look at him, he’ll be able to convince you

“I’m sure Kunikida-kun wouldn’t mind if we went home a little early, can we please?” he continued to beg

you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to clear your mind, “even if he doesn’t mind–which I think is highly doubtful–I still have work I can get done. so the answer is no. you can hang in there, love.”

your words went through one ear and out the other, “can you say it while looking at me?” he was using a soft, quiet voice that was making it hard to stay strong. if he wasn’t so persuasive, you’d love to look at your boyfriend’s pretty face. it was already hard enough to not look at him even though you knew how convincing he could be

a hand brushed against yours, starting to play with your index finger as Dazai whined your name again.

you opened your eyes as you answered, “no, ‘Samu–” the moment you met eyes with him, your resolve faltered

he had the most adorable expression on his already endearing face that made your heart ache whenever he looked at you like this.

you averted your eyes as you silently closed your laptop, beginning to pack your bag, “...I suppose I could get it done tomorrow. and as long as it’s turned in by its deadline Kunikida-san will be fine with it.”

“oh! my belladonna!” Dazai exclaimed as he practically threw himself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck, “I knew I could convince you. let’s go home,” he gave you an innocent smile, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling away to gather his own things

chuuya

chuuya meets your eyes from across a corporate party

you’re the only one he can truly feel comfortable around in such a large setting. he feels safer knowing you’re safe when he’s around you and can see you

plus, he’s more than happy to walk around with you. he’s proud to be walking with the beautiful lady who’s turning every head <3 it’s even better because he knows that no matter what, you’re all his

he looks for you the moment he arrives at the party, searching the crowd for your face

he ignores anyone trying to talk to him or offer him something to drink. honestly, he waves everyone away, completely focused on finding you

he pushes past a couple in the crowd and suddenly he’ll see you; your eyes slightly wide and mouth parted as you meet his eyes from afar

as soon as you see him, you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him and he’s doing the same. you never take your eyes off of him, scared to lose him in the crowd again

when you finally meet, it’s like everything was set just for this moment. a beam of light perfectly shines over you both as you meet in the middle

“you look stunning, sweetheart,” he can’t help but say, hands trailing down your sides, resting on your hips

your arms drape across his shoulders and around his neck as you brush noses with him, “so do you, darling.” you both share a smile, continuing to look into his slate colored eyes. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

he can feel his heart start to slow as he relaxes in your hold. “so was I, doll,” as he stares into your eyes, he realizes that all he needs is you.

“say,” he murmurs, eyes lowering to watch his hands as they draw circles on your skin, “I know we just got here, but I just wanna be with you. wanna get out of here?” when he looks back up at you, his eyes are playful

“as long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go,” you respond, intertwining your hand with his as he starts to lead you through the crowd <3

tecchou

you meet eyes with Tecchou when you look across the table to find him already looking at you

your heart stirs, stricken by those pretty amber eyes, and he hasn’t even processed that you’ve caught him staring

he’s so entranced in you that he only smiles when you meet his eyes, his head resting on a hand

“Hiro, you’re staring again,” you say softly, your cheeks warm a little under his gaze

“I can’t help it, angel. I could stare at you all day and it wouldn’t be enough, you’re just too perfect.” <3

Jouno is most certainly not happy about it

“Tecchou-san, I can hear you ogling [Y/N]-san from here and I really wish you would stop. Please stop breathing while you’re at it,” he scoffs from the other side of the table

(it’s Jouno’s special way of saying he’s happy for you both <3)

probably how you ended up finding out that he liked you

he had never hidden how much he stared at you because he was never ashamed of it

you thought he was so charming when you first met him that you were surprised he would ever take interest in you

“it’s not just that you’re beautiful. it’s just like I can see how pure you are in character. everything around you is brighter, whether I’m looking at you or when I’m with you. it’s been like that ever since I first met you,” he answered when you brought this up the day he confessed

(ear plugs did not save Jouno in the room over who was reaching for a trash can

you try to hold his gaze whenever you meet eyes with him but you’re always the first to look away, face turning red while he only continues to look at you with a lovesick smile <3

tachihara

you’re the person tachihara looks to whenever someone says something worth sharing “a look” for or when someone says something funny

yk like when someone says questionable and you look to someone else like “did they just say that fr?”

that’s tachihara and you <3

whenever jokes are made, he laughs and looks at you to see if you found it funny as well

loves to laugh with you and make you laugh <3

he has a ton of inside jokes with you

for example, radios are heavily used in the mafia so that everyone can communicate

earpieces do their job, but despite the beauty of modern technology sometimes their audio can be so scratchy and incoherent. especially when people get farther away, the audio just gets harder and harder to understand

once, when tachihara took you out on a date and you both were walking around in a store, a worker came on to the intercom to say something but it just sounded like a jumble of fuzz and garbled words.

he nudged you with his shoulder saying, “sounds like hirotsu every time he tries to speak to us during a job.”

you both were crying, holding onto shelves and dying of laughter afterwards <3

and now every time during a job when you hear hirotsu through your ear piece, you both immediately look at each other with mischievous smiles and stifled laughter

even during the most serious of meetings–you both could be standing right in front of Mori and it’s like you guys have a telepathic connection

you both will look at each other simultaneously and share the same thoughts

meeting eyes with him always ends with you both having uncontrollable smiles that automatically spread across your faces <3

along with the knowing looks you two share, there’s so much love and adoration in your eyes for each other

he also knows that if you don’t meet his eyes or if they’re not as lively as usual, something’s wrong and he’s always quick to ask you what he can do to help <3

[yuriisclumsy]

What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland?

╰Description: [Name] is one of the top mage in Twisted Wonderland, right after Malleus Draconia.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here) | Part 5

—May 3, 2024—

Thought… This is a continuation on the What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland? 

So far—over a month—the students of NRC have become accustomed with [Name]...kind of. 

What do I mean by kind of? 

Let’s just say that those who have her are now dying to get out of the class. Too bad for them because their one-week deadline has passed, and now they can’t. At least they want to lose the credit and money.  

Turns out, having a pretty girl as your professor doesn’t make up for the torture you’ll endure. 

Now, everyone is afraid to even approach [Name]. She doesn’t mind this, in fact, she quite likes it. Peace and silence. The two things she adores the most. 

So much as to get the students to participate more. Thank Crowly for this. 

In the month [Name] had been teaching, all she’s done is give theory. Heavy for those that have advanced places, and slightly less for those who have normal classes. Though you’ll be damned if you thought that she’ll have it easy on you if you have normal classes with her. Aduece Duo and Grim are probably off complaining to Yuu about how difficult the class is. 

The members of the cast that follow rules and usually are studious find this class a bit…too much. But, not enough to make you want to jump off a bridge. The other students get by with deep dive studying. As for those that are lazy–AGHEM–Leona–COUGH–[Name] won’t let them go that easily. 

Why don’t we take a look at how well her students did in the first test, shall we? 

…

Because of the way [Name] likes to do this, all results are given a week after the test during a time when there are no classes. Which means all of her classes are gathered here in one spot. It’s easier for her to do it this way. If there are any questions, she can just answer them and not have to repeat it to her other classes. 

The first test on theory had concluded a week ago, and the students are now in [Name]’s class to get their results. They talk amongst their peers about how they think they did on the test. Some say they did poorly, others think they at least got a passing grease, no one will know for certain until they get those papers back.  

The class starts to quiet down as professor [Name] walks in. She walks until she is standing on the podium looking out towards the students with a blank expression—nothing new for the students, as she is like that everyday. 

“I have graded all the tests. I will pass them out. But before that, I would like to say that the results of this test met my expectations.” [Name] said nonchalantly. 

At this the students became happy and full of hope. Maybe the majority of them pass. Some even began to cheer. 

[Name] took the stack of tests and began to make her way down the list of students in alphabetical order, as she had instructed them prior to entering, with the few exceptions of Malleus, Silver, Yuu, and Grim (Silver, Yuu, and Grim being the obvious ones). 

The first three rows had gotten their tests back, much to their excitement. But from the noises of disappointment and failure reaching their classmates further up, they began to question if they had passed the test. 

“Aww man…and I studied really hard for this!” Kalim sulked in his seat. 

“If by studying, you mean cramming last minute, then yes, you studied really hard.” Jamil frowned at his Housewarden, shaking his head in a disapproving manner. “Next time, come to the library to study. I’ll teach you what you don’t know.” 

“Really!” Kalim’s round eyes sparkled to the point it made the people around him cover their eyes. “You really are the best Jamil!” 

“...Ah…of course I am.” he said, having his eyes closed. 

Going further up, [Name] began to speak after hearing more dissatisfied students. 

“It seems like my expectations were met. Only 10 percent of you passed this exam.” She said matter-of-factly, still passing out tests. 

“What?!” 

“But I studied for days for this!” 

“She’s lying…right?” 

“I want to get out of this class…” 

“How is that even possible...?!” 

“No way…” 

“Can’t believe it…even if I studied for a whole month, I wouldn't have passed this.” 

“She has to be joking.” 

“Kehehe.” A grimling laugh was heard throughout the chatter of students. It came from a young boy with black and pink strokes. He had pointed ears, a staple for the Valley of thorns citizens. 

“Finding this amusing, are you, Lilia?” A considerably tall young man with pale skin and the same pointed ears asked. 

“Oh, please, Malleus. You can’t deny the fact that you find this entertaining too.” Lilia retorted with a smile. 

“Hehe, I suppose it is. What’s more intriguing is the fact that she was expecting those results.” He turned to Lilia, “don't you have to be up there to get your test back?” 

The young lad’s eyes widened, “ah! You’re right!” He said before disappearing into thin air. 

There were only two rows left to hand out the test. Going up, [Name] came face to face with Leona. 

“Kingsholar.” 

“Professor.” 

There was a moment of silence as the two stared down at each other (although one was staring down, and the other up). Without more time [Name] gave him his test back and moved in shortly after. 

She was already three students down when Leona slammed the desk in front of him. This grabbed everyone's attention: all eyes were on him now. 

[Name] turned around, not amused by Leona’s behavior. She predicted he was going to act this way when he got his test back. 

“Is there something wrong for you to act in a way, Kingsholar?” 

“...you” 

“I’m sorry, I am unable to hear you. You’ll have to speak louder.” [Name] was preparing herself for the yelling of the century. 

“HOW COULD YOU GIVE ME AN A IF I GOT EVERYTHING WRONG?!” The students around him jumped, getting scared. No one had seen him that mad. Apart from the students that saved him from the blot, this was a new level of anger. 

“*sigh* isn’t it obvious why I would bypass the grading system and give you an A?” she asked, looking at Leona with a are-you-stupid face. 

“...” 

“No? I guess I must spell it out for you then.” [Name] got closer to him. Taking his test into her hands, she looked it over before averting her gaze at him. “Out of all the questions you got everything wrong.” 

“Exactly. So, how the hell did I get an A?” He demanded to know he passed the test, if he had no correct answers. It was preposterous in his opinion. Having every question wrong would mean an F, so having it be an A this time…felt wrong. 

“Do you not see what is wrong with this?” She asked. 

“No?” Leona was getting irritated. Can’t she just say what she needs to say? 

[Name] hummed. “Can someone tell me what is wrong with that? Anyone?” She turned to the rest of the class. 

A student in the front row had put his hand up to answer the question. 

“Āshengrotto. Can you tell me what is wrong with this statement?” 

“Yes, professor.” Azul put his hand down and fixed his glasses. “If this test was a written exam the chances of getting a zero are likely. But, because this test is a multiple-choice question, it would be impossible to get zero percent, as you have more chances of guessing the correct answer.” 

She smiled at the answer. “That was beautiful. Thank you, Mr. Āshengurotto. Point for Octavinelle.” Some Octavinelle students cheered for their Housewarden, the loudest being Floyd. 

“As you hear Āshengurotto say, it would be near impossible to get a zero percent on a multiple-choice test.” she said, turning to face Leona again. His face spelled mad.

“Yeah, so? I could have gotten lucky.” Leona said sarcastically. He wanted to get this over with.

“Mmmm…maybe. Or you simply wanted to fail.” [Name] said accusing him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I would have agreed with you that you could have gotten lucky enough to get a zero…if not for the fact that you are good with theory. In fact, you are one of the best students in this class with this subject.”

“The only option left…is that you wanted to fail.” [name] finished the final blow as she handed the test back to him, before continuing to disperse the papers.

“Oh and, Kingsholar?” She turned to see him standing there, looking down at the paper that had a good score in. “You violated Rule number four. I expect to see a written paper on it in my desk in the following days.”

Leaving the conversation at that, she finished giving out the test and went back to the podium.

“If there are no further questions, you are dismissed.”

(finished: 5/19/2024, at 6.25pm)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @scarabiafriend, @sleep-ydragon, @d3sperate-enuf, @elaemae, @lucky-whispers, @kiwiimochi, @emmorphine, @azriel-sama, @amora-ledezma, @writerstrashbin, @marinahavik, @twstwondersforyou, @lunatheroyal, @ririsun, @dyedscarletletter, @kuureii, @otomega, @valacz29, @busy-dadzawa-fish, @sarah22447, @valacz29, @wondering-again, @lucid-stories. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Twisted wonderland. Back to The Mind

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[queenshelby]

The Price for Fame (Part Two)

Pairing: Dark!Cillian Murphy x Innocent!Reader

Warning: Manipulation, Infidelity, Smut, Dub-Con, Age-Gap, Cillian is being a bully in this one. It's pure filth.

Three days later, on set, with tension running high, you found yourself back in Cillian's trailer again for another meeting. 

You had screwed up a few scenes, unable to concentrate on your performance due to the mental anguish from the arrangement you had in place with Cillian despite the fact thar you were engaged to a good catholic man.

"I am sorry, I am just having troubles focusing," you told him as soon as you sat foot in his trailer, looking at Cillian with a mixture of shame and frustration in your eyes. You knew that he was upset and that you were in for a lecture after the director had complained about your performance once again. 

"Close the door behind you," was all he said before leaning back in his chair a

You did as you were told and took a seat opposite him, your hands splayed nervously on your lap. 

"It's not like me to mess up my lines like this, honestly, it's just ... I don't know," you began, trying to explain your uncharacteristic lack of focus.

"Like I said, we need to address this urgently. I can't afford to not deliver on this movie, and you really need to pull yourself together Y/N,"  Cillian lectured, his eyes burning holes into you as if trying to force his indignation into your soul.

While part of you wanted to argue, to defend yourself, another part of you just shyly nodded, shrinking beneath his disapproving gaze.

"Yes, I'm really sorry, I just... I don't know. I can't seem to shake this lately," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian rolled his eyes impatiently.

"Listen, Y/N, I have half a mind to re-cast your role. I can't have you so unfocused and distracted when we're shooting such crucial scenes."

You looked at him, eyes wide with shock. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You had dedicated so much time and energy to this role. You had even slept with him twice and now he was threatening to take it all away from you? The thought of losing your part in this film brought you to the brink of tears.

"Please, Cillian," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. "I swear I'll do better. I just need some time to get myself back together."

Cillian leaned forward, his eyes locked on yours. "You have one week," he said, his tone stern. "One week to prove that you can focus and deliver a decent performance, or I'm replacing you."

You nodded frantically, feeling a mix of relief and desperation wash over you. You would do anything to keep your role in this film, even if it meant fighting through your personal struggles.

"Thank you Cillian ," you whispered, your shoulders slumping in exhaustion before you got up from your seat, causing him to shake his head.

"Don't leave just yet Y/N," he spoke gruffly, his tone dripping with need. You looked at him questioningly, your mind still spinning with the impending deadline.

"Come here and show me how thankful you are for this chance," Cillian demanded while suggestively unbuckling his belt.

"Please, Cillian. My fiancé is coming to visit me tonight. I can't do this," you pleaded with him, your desperation turning to panic.

Cillian chuckled before standing up from his seat and stalking towards you.

You backed away, your heart pounding in your chest as Cillian approached. But there was nowhere for you to go in the small trailer. He quickly closed the gap between you, pinning you against the wall.

"Do you want to keep your role in this movie?" he hissed in your ear, his warm breath causing you to shudder.

"Yes, yes, I do!" you stammered just before Cillian unzipped his jeans and freed his lengthy cock.

"Then prove it," he said, prompting you and, with your hands still shaking, you tentatively wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard shaft. 

Cillian's hands roamed your body, gently but forcefully, leaving no doubt that this was a sexually charged encounter. His large hands gripped your waist as he directed your own hand, guiding you to stroke his cock rhythmically.

You could feel his cock growing harder and thicker with every pump of your delicate hand.

"Good girl. Now get down on your knees," Cillian ordered you and you complied, hesitantly kneeling before him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your mind was racing with a mix of fear and guilt.

Feeling nauseous, you took a deep breath and stared at Cillian's cock which was already fully erect, dripping with pre-cum.

"Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue," Cillian demanded, his voice commanding and unyielding.

Reluctantly, you obeyed and stuck out your tongue, completely humiliated and submissive. Cillian smeared his pre-cum on your tongue with his finger, making you shudder with disgust.

"Hmm , good girl," he said, before he pushed his cock into your mouth, filling your mouth and throat, causing you to gag instantly. You tried to pull away, but Cillian gripped your hair tightly, preventing any escape.

"No, no, no. You're going to make me cum with that pretty little mouth of yours. Keep sucking it like a good little girl," Cillian moaned as he pushed himself deeper into your throat. The feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat and the taste of his pre-cum was nauseating and arousing at the same time while Cillian's grip on your hair kept you from pulling away.

Tears streamed down your cheeks and trickled down your neck as you tried to take slow, shallow breaths. You could feel yourself starting to gag on his cock, but Cillian's hold on your hair tightened, and he kept pushing further down your throat.

"That's it. Keep sucking. That's it. Swallow it all, baby," he whispered lewdly as he grabbed your head, pulling you down onto his cock more roughly.

You gagged again, your throat constricting around his thick shaft. Cillian, sensing your discomfort, slowed down, pumping in and out of your mouth more leisurely, giving you time to adjust.

As he continued, his movements became faster, his guts churning in anticipation of orgasm. 

" Fuck, you're getting better at this," he grunted, his tone strained with pleasure. You could feel his balls tighten, signalling that he was close to releasing.

"You are going to swallow every drop of my cum, aren't you Y/N?" Cillian asked, clearly enjoying the dominance he was exerting on you and the thought of swallowing his seed made you feel sick.  But you knew it was the price you had to pay if you wanted to keep your job so you nodded, meekly and obediently.

"Good girl," Cillian cooed as he began to thrust his hips more frantically, pumping in and out of your mouth. Before long, he let out a deep groan, his cock pulsing as he erupted inside of your mouth.

You could taste his bitter semen on your tongue, feeling it slide down your throat. You tried to swallow it as quickly as possible, not wanting to linger on the taste and texture.

Cillian finally pulled out of your mouth, a sated grin on his face. He tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped them up before sitting back down in his chair. "That was good," he said simply, leaving you kneeling on his floor with tears streaming down your face. "You can get up now," he added, not even bothering to apologize for what he had just done.

You slowly got to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. The taste  of Cillian's semen was still lingering on your tongue, making you feel even more disgusted with yourself.

"I need to go," you murmured quietly, your voice hoarse from the recent forced oral.

Cillian just nodded, a smug grin on his face. "Sure thing, but I want to see you again tonight, just before you see your fiancé," he said, not even bothering to look at you as you made your way to the door.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of shame and anger as you stepped out of his trailer, the door slamming shut behind you.

Tags:

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@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[whimsicalpolitical]

trouble sleeping // Ross Macdonald x Reader

a/n: send some requests!! needed some Ross comfort again :)

summary: you can’t seem to find rest at night and the only thing that’s helping is your boyfriend Ross

cw: insomnia, pure fluff, mention of pills

────────────────────────

It’s late. 4 in the morning and you just can’t sleep and the problem is that Ross is not in your shared apartment. He’s at the studio with the guys, and he made sure you’re gonna be fine because your insomniac episodes aren’t unknown for him. “Call anytime and I’ll come home.”

It was genuine of Ross but you don’t ever want to disturb him when he’s working.

Even when if it’s the fourth time this week, the thought of calling Ross is in the back of your mind when it should be at the front. In the past Ross has helped you multiple times when you either couldn’t fall asleep or sleep through the night with breathing exercises, muscle relaxation and meditation.

You fell asleep at 2 and now two hours later you’re awake again, unable to fall asleep and missing the warmth of your boyfriend.

Drinking milk, opening the windows for fresh air, hearing soothing music and deep breathing didn’t work. You’re getting frustrated, that’s why you make your way to the couch to turn on the TV.

If nothing works, criminal minds would always be a last resort. The familiar faces of the BAU team and the engrossing plots sometimes managed to distract your mind just enough to let sleep sneak in. You pull a blanket over yourself and settle into the couch, flipping through the series until you find an episode you re-watch quite often.

The familiar opening credits roll, and you try to lose yourself in the unfolding drama. The case is intense, as always, and for a while, you almost forget your frustration. But as the minutes tick by, the sense of loneliness creeps back in. You miss Ross's presence, his steady breathing beside you, the warmth of his body. You glance at your phone on the coffee table, the urge to call him growing stronger.

You take a deep breath, trying to quell the rising anxiety. Ross had insisted that you call him anytime, but the last thing you want is to interrupt his work. You know how important the studio sessions are, especially with the deadline for their next album approaching. But then again, Ross has always been there for you, and he would want to know if you were struggling, in particular when it’s about your insomnia.

You pick up your phone and stare at the screen. 4:15 AM. With a sigh, you unlock it and scroll to Ross's contact. Your finger hovers over the call button, but you hesitate. What if he's in the middle of recording a crucial track? You close your eyes and take another deep breath, trying to decide.

A few seconds later you press the call button.

It rings only once before he answers, his voice immediately concerned. "Hey darling, everything alright?”

“Not really,” your voice trembling slightly, “I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t urgent, sorry if I’m interrupting.”

“Nonsense,” he’s worried, you hear it in his voice, “M’ sorry you’re struggling, what have you tried?”

“Fucking everything,” you sigh, “nothings working.” You want him to come home, be with you, try everything you tried because you’re sure everything he does will have an impact.

"Hang on a second," he says, his voice a mix of surprise and something else you can't quite place.

Before you can respond, there's a knock at the door. Confused, you get up and walk over, phone still in hand. You open the door to find Ross standing there, his phone pressed to his ear and a grin on his face.

“Was already on my way when you called,” he lowers his phone and slips it into his pocket.

“Ross,” you exclaim, a relief washing over you like a tidal wave.

"I had a feeling," he says, stepping inside and wrapping you in a tight embrace. "So I wrapped up early and decided to come home."

You bury your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence. "Thank you for coming."

“Always," he murmurs into your hair. "Let's get you settled. We'll try some exercises together, okay?"

You nod, pulling back just enough to look up at him. His eyes are filled with love and concern, and you feel a sense of peace starting to settle over you. “One second.” You demand.

You stand on your tiptoes to brush your lips over his, feeling his beard tickle your chin and the area under your nose. You sigh into the kiss and Ross smiles at your steadiness.

He laughs at the TV when you enter the living room. “Again?” He points at the episode on the screen, the familiarity of the scenes hitting him. “Doesn’t it get dull?”

Ross hangs his jacket over a chair while you turn the TV off. “Never.” You answer his previous question.

You rub your eyes, trying to push the exhaustion away from you, but it’s a lost fight. Even when you would try to sleep because you’re dead tired, you wouldn’t sleep more than a few hours.

After Ross places his shoes at the door, he makes his way to the kitchen. You hear glasses klink and the tab getting turned on.

“How was practice?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from your restlessness.

“Quite good actually,” you hear from the kitchen, “Matty’s just indecisive all the bloody time.”

You giggle because your remember a lot of conversations between George and you where George has said the exact same.

“Some day he’s just gonna go crazy,” Ross laughs and returns from the kitchen with a glass of water and a pack of some pills.

“I brought triazolam, take one and then we’ll settle into bed alright?” You nod and smile weakly. Ross gives you one small nod and leans in to kiss the side of your head.

Ross keeps stroking your hair when you take the medicine and chug the water. “Thanks,” you mumble when you’re done, putting both the glass and the pack of pills on the table in front of you.

You stand up, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck and bring him into you. Ross laughs softly, his arms awkwardly wrapping around your back. You pay no mind to his struggle and press your cheek to his, your fingers slipping into the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Missed you,” you slurred, your words getting muffled by his shoulder.

“Missed you too, love.” Your eyes flutter shut as he continues his gentle ministrations, rubbing your back. He turns, nose bumping against yours, and he kisses you softly.

Ross sighs into your mouth. He cups your cheek, the line of your jaw familiar beneath his fingers. He tastes like powerade, you know he drank in the studio. The tension leaks out of your shoulders as he scratches his nails against your scalp, once, twice.

He trails a series of gentle kisses across your skin; your jaw, your cheeks, the edge of your lips. You remain near, so near that your nose brushes against his again.

“Bed?” He whispers against the corners of your mouth.

You hum softly and with reluctance you untangle yourself from him. Tossing back the blanket, you stand up. He reaches for your hand, and you smile sleepily at the comforting warmth of his fingers intertwined with yours.

Wrapping your other hand around his bicep, you follow him mindlessly to your room.

Ross is aware of your sleeping outfit but he knows that sometimes it’s better to change again when you can’t sleep. “D’you want to change?”

You do. You so badly want to but you’re over the top with your exhaustion. You just want to lie down. You stare at Ross, before sitting down on the edge of the bed, your legs giving out slowly.

Ross’ mouth curves into a smile. He turns his back and walks to your closet to pull out a shirt from him and a pair of sweatpants from you.

He walks towards you again, “arms up love.” You do as he says and you feel the cold air hit your chest but the feeling is replaced again when he pulls the shirt over your head. “There you go.”

He kneels in front of you to pull your shorts down. “Long sweatpants okay?” He asks and you nod, steadying yourself with your hand on his shoulder.

Ross slides the sweatpants up your legs gently, making sure you’re comfortable before standing up. “All set,” he says softly, making sure he changes just as fast.

He makes sure to set the bedroom how you like it. One open window, no light but the light on his side of the bed still on, for your exercises later. Every door closed.

Everything’s set so you settle under the covers and Ross climbs in beside you. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” you murmur, your voice trailing off as the drowsiness of the pill sets in. “Still don’t think I can sleep though.” The room is dimly lit, the soft glow from the bedside lamp casting warm shadows on the walls.

“That’s alright, we’ll make it work.” Ross gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and reassuring. “Let’s try a breathing exercise, okay? It might help you relax more,” he suggests softly.

You nod, willing to try anything at this point. Ross shifts closer, his presence a comforting anchor. “Alright, love. Close your eyes and listen to my voice.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the steady cadence of his words. “Breathe in slowly through your nose,” he instructs, his voice calm and soothing. “Count to four as you do. One... two... three... four.”

You follow his lead, drawing in a deep breath and feeling your chest rise with the intake of air. “Now hold it for four counts,” Ross continues, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “One... two... three... four.”

You hold the breath, feeling the tension in your muscles begin to ease. “Now, exhale slowly through your mouth,” Ross says, his tone encouraging. “Count to six. One... two... three... four... five... six.”

You feel your chest relaxing after round 1 and now Ross puts a hand on your chest, to help you relax even more.

You release the breath, feeling the air leave your lungs in a slow, controlled stream. The tightness in your chest begins to loosen. “That’s it,” Ross murmurs, his fingers on his other hand tracing gentle circles on your shoulder. “Let’s do it again. In for four...”

You repeat the process, inhaling deeply and holding the breath before exhaling slowly. With each cycle, you feel the stress and worry melting away, replaced by a growing sense of calm.

Ross continues to guide you through the breathing exercise, his voice a steady presence in the dimly lit room. “You’re doing great,” he whispers after several rounds. “Just keep breathing, nice and slow.”

As you focus on your breath, the soothing rhythm begins to lull you into a deeper state of relaxation. The drowsiness from the pill, combined with Ross’s calming influence, starts to pull you towards sleep.

“Feeling better?” Ross asks softly, his hand still resting reassuringly on your shoulder.

“Mhm,” you murmur, the word barely audible, “Sorry you have to keep up with this often.”

“None of that love.” Ross replies, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I love doing this f’ it means you can find rest.

As you both settle down, Ross moves behind you, propping himself up on one elbow. He begins to massage your scalp, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation is soothing, his touch gentle yet firm, aimed at releasing the tension that lingers.

“Just relax, love,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Let go of everything.”

He uses his thumbs to apply a deep and firm pressure toward your skull, using circular movements to massage this area for some time.

Ross continues the massage, taking his time, ensuring that each touch is comforting. “How’s that feel?” he asks softly.

“Wonderful,” you reply, your voice a drowsy murmur.

“Good,” Ross whispers, his fingers still moving in slow circles. “Just keep breathing deeply. I’m here with you.”

The minutes pass in a tranquil haze, the room quiet except for the soft sound of your breathing and the occasional whisper from Ross. With his tender care, the insomnia that had gripped you starts to release its hold.

Feeling completely relaxed, you whisper, “I love you so much.”

Ross leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I love you too,” he murmurs against your skin, his words a soft caress.

As his arms wrap around you, pulling you into a warm embrace, you feel his steady heartbeat against your back. The sense of safety and love envelops you, and you finally let yourself drift off to sleep. Ross continues to hold you close, his presence a comforting shield against the night.

[sentientgolfball]

How about “I’m bad at texting first, so I always end up hoping you will.” with Swiss and Dew!

ok this was actually so cute ough this is like EARLY prequelle so Swiss is referred to as Multi :3

Send a prompt and a pair!

“He hates me,” Dew groans, bursting into Mountain’s room. 

“Hello to you too Dewdrop,” Mountain laughs, turning the page of his book. 

“You’re laughing? The new summon hates me and you’re laughing?” He flops onto his bed with a dramatic sigh. 

“Dewbug. My love. Who hates you?” 

“Multi!”

“Multi? What do you mean he hates you? I can literally see the hearts in his eyes when he stares at you.” 

Dew groans again. He reaches into his pocket, silently tossing it at Mountain while he keeps his face firmly planted into the mattress. Mountain rolls his eyes, picking up the phone and unlocking it with practiced ease. It immediately opens to a text thread with Multi. He scrolls through, skimming over the messages to find what Dew is talking about. All he finds are Dew answering questions about life Topside, Dew telling him where he is, a few sexts which Mountain makes a mental note of, and a question about Mountain’s favorite flower which he pretends not to see. 

“I’m confused,” he tosses the phone back at Dew, “what’s the problem here?” 

“He doesn’t wanna talk to me.” He rolls over so he’s laying on his back. 

“Did you go see Chain? I told you to stop smoking with him, you know he gets his stuff from Pebble.” 

“I’m not high you bastard.” 

“Then I have no idea what’s wrong with you.” 

“I already told you!” 

“Okay,” he sighs, “walk me through what’s going on in that little head of yours.” 

“Fine. But don’t laugh at me.” 

“I would never.”

“Aether said the same thing and now I’m here so…” 

“Dew.” 

“…yeah okay. So you looked at all the messages?” 

Mountain nods, humming in response. 

“Right yeah so did you notice anything?” 

“Besides you begging to suck his dick? No nothing.” 

“Mount!”

“Sorry.” 

Dew sighs, “He never texts me first.” 

Mountain has to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing. He clears his throat, “Come again?” 

“Seriously you too?” 

“No, I'm sorry. Continue.” He smiles. 

Dew glares, “am I being too forward? I don’t exactly know what element he was raised in so I can’t do this the normal way.” 

“Do what?” Mountain tilts his head. 

“I don’t know! Show him that he's cool…I guess?” 

“So it wasn’t just Aether. You’re just bad at this in general huh.” 

“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” 

“I’ve been here longer than you!” 

Dew grumbles, standing off the bed and stomping to the door, “Thank you for nothing dirt boy.” 

He slams the door when he leaves. Mountain shakes his head with a smile before grabbing his own phone from his nightstand. He opens his thread with Aether. 

So I hear your mate has a crush on the new guy? 

Dew decides to spend the rest of the day in the practice room. They’re still a ways away from tour so he shouldn’t be bothered. All the new summons are still in their learning phase so if anyone does come in they’ll more than likely head to one of the smaller, private rooms on the side. He figures trying to learn one of the stupid solos the stupid Cardinal wrote for him will take his mind off of his weird feelings. If not, he’ll go to Mist and have her smack some sense into him. He’d rather not have to go that far though. 

He loses track of time as he plays, fingers flying over the fretboard as he works on Faith. He may not be a fire ghoul yet, but his deadline is quickly approaching. He might as well know at least a little before he changes. He pushes himself until his body hurts, fingers sore from the repetition and shoulders aching from the weight of the fantomen. He plays as far into the song as he can one last time before calling it quits, putting the guitar back in its rack and sitting on the amp. He stretches his hand, wincing at how stiff it feels. 

“You alright?” 

Dew yelps at the voice that rumbles out so close to his ear. He nearly falls off the amp, but two large hands grab him. 

“Sorry,” Multi laughs, “didn’t mean to scare ya.” 

“When did you get in here?” 

“A while ago,” he shrugs, “you sounded really good.” 

Dew blinks a few times. He hadn’t noticed anyone around him. Hadn’t even seen the door open. 

“How did you?” 

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Multi laughs. 

Dew pockets that for later, bound and determined to figure out what the fuck he could possibly mean. Instead he focuses on what’s in front of him. Multi. His amber and incense scent is so strong when he’s so close. It makes Dew’s stomach knot, tail flicking behind him. 

“Was there,” Dew pauses to clear his throat, “was there something you needed?” 

“Oh! Yeah uh I was looking for you and Mountain said you’d probably be here. Hadn’t heard from you all day and I was worried.” 

Dew furrows his brow, “You could’ve texted me.” 

Multi looks away, uncharacteristically sheepish, “I uh…I don’t know how.” 

Dew blinks slowly, “huh?” 

“I don’t know how. To text.” 

“Bullshit we do it all the time!” 

“Yeah! That’s because I click on the thing whenever I see your name! I don’t know how to do it any other way! So I always wait for you.” 

Dew stares at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. 

“What? What’s so funny?” Multi furrows his brow. 

“Nothing nothing,” Dew shakes his head, “just…here give me your phone.” 

He still looks confused, but he hands it over to Dew. 

“Damn default lockscreen. Let’s change that.” He opens the camera app and hooks and arm around Multi’s neck, bringing him into frame. 

“Smile,” Dew says, looking at their image in the camera. 

Multi shrugs, bewilderment momentarily dropping off of his face as he flashes his fangs. Dew takes the picture, humming approval as he sets it as his lockscreen. 

“That’s not gonna steal my soul is it?” 

“No it won’t steal your soul. It’s just for fun, here look.” Dew holds it up so he can see their picture. 

Multi smiles at the sight of them together, a moment captured in time. 

“Now whenever you open your phone you’ll get to see this lovely face.” 

“Now,” Dew continues, “this is how you can text me.” 

He makes sure Multi is watching before he taps on the icon. Their thread is already pulled up when he opens it. 

“Oh,” he says flatly, a hint of embarrassment tinging his word. 

“Yeah oh. Don’t worry about it, it took Mountain ages to even learn how to unlock his phone.” 

“Really?” He laughs. 

“Yes really. I’m surprised he even knows how to use it. Don’t tell him I said that.” 

The two spend a bit more time in the practice, squished close together while Dew shows him all the things his phone can do. They take a lot more pictures, download a few apps, and change everyone’s contact names. They had back to the den hand in hand when they’re done. Dew can feel Multi’s hand warm, fire soothing the ache in his fingers from earlier. He doesn’t acknowledge it, instead, he twines their tails together, keeping him close while they walk. 

[mad3lyncline]

𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑬 𝑬𝑳𝑰𝒁𝑨𝑩𝑬𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 . starters from the 2020 ep 'cape elizabeth' by noah kahan .

𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅

if you could see it through my eyes , you'd understand my fear of everything in sight .

i'd quickly sell my heart for some advice on how to ease a troubled mind .

my brain's a dog asleep that i cannot let lie .

cloudy head but i can't find a single silver lining .

guess there is no hope for me in sight to ease this troubled mind .

i worry for the sun , oh i worry for the snow .

i worry i'll die young while i worry i'll grow old .

i worry for the time i spent worrying alone .

i took a bus down to the city where you live .

the past just amplified my fear .

i started counting all the times i saw you last year .

you were sadly making sense .

𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅

i think i found a fear of mine ; that you might love for no reason .

you know i worry only luck brought me to you .

i'm half awake most of the time .

it's just the timing of the seasons .

you know i worry that you're all i have to lose .

i should change this way of thinking ; that all my fears are facts of life .

i could die tomorrow ; you'd be close behind .

i live my life in years to come to prepare myself for sorrow .

i won't worry when i crumble at your feet .

it's something sinister to love without regard for dear tomorrow .

to search for worry is to love without deceit .

𝒈𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒕

you used to be scared of the water .

you're safe by the side of your father .

your sense of the world lay in your little home by the harbor .

you've always felt small in the city .

you think that last fall you were with me .

all of your old clothes are still in the hall of my building .

you never asked once .

you never asked why .

you'd wear yourself thin and accept every sin .

if i glue myself shut , you would find your way in .

we gambled our souls to the summer .

we watched every sunset until we got sick of each other .

you've always said fall was your season .

it only feels real after raining .

hearts only heal after breaking .

i stare at the tree line and notice the leaves aren't changing .

does the wind blow in cape elizabeth ?

love was a deadline ; spend the rest of my life fuckin' missing it .

𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒂𝒚

you've made a mess .

honey don't worry ; nobody's angry at any of this .

darling , be patient . stare into the vacancy . take a deep breath .

it's like when you're tired you're someone else .

honey don't worry ; i'll do your laundry , covered in dirt .

it's easy to break beneath the weight of the earth .

i'll wait for sharp glass when you break .

i'll be the light that you can't make .

i'll be your eyes ; you be my face .

darling , i get scared for you .

i'm not busy anyway .

today you looked older than me .

does it get exhausting ? have you gotten sleep ?

you said you were sorry that you hadn't called me in over a week .

i hope i ain't the last of what the world left you .

𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆

was your soul rediscovered ? was your heart rearranged ?

are you still taking pills in the morning ?

did you lose that longing now ?

this town's just an ocean now .

you don't hate the summers ; you're just afraid of the space .

i miss this place , your head , and your heart .

my dad still tells me when they're playing your songs .

if only baby there were cameras in the traffic lights ; they'd make me a star .

i wanna go to maine .

tell me , lover , once you've had a change of heart .

we're no more than the fossils at crescent beach state park .

used to sing along to church bells on sundays .

can you even hear 'em from the subway now ?

i hope that we make you proud .

[seokmthw]

lover of mine | kim taerae

⇢ pairing: taerae x reader

⇢ warnings: fluff

⇢ word count: 645

⇢ note: this one is dedicated to @zerobaselove because i'm desperately trying to make her lose her war of not biasing taerae. love youuuuuu <3 (tried so hard to wait and post this but i literally could not)

JOIN MY TAGLIST!

the moment taerae opened the front door to your shared apartment, his eyes went to your sleeping figure curled up on the couch. guilt troubled his mind for a moment, because he knew you’d be staying up waiting for him despite him telling you to just go to bed. however, upon seeing your even, peaceful breaths, he felt his gaze soften almost immediately. 

it had been another long night of practice and staying behind for a couple more hours to put the finishing touches on an original song he was currently working on and planned to release within the next month or so. it made your boyfriend feel horrible for leaving you alone the entire day, but there wasn’t much he was able to do about it because he had a deadline he desperately needed to meet.

he sighed softly, tossing his bag on the ground. he untied his shoes and kicked them messily off to the side - he was going to be up again in a few hours anyway, so it’s not like it mattered if they were neat. within a few minutes he was gently tapping your shoulder in an attempt to wake you up so you could go and get some sleep in your shared bed as opposed to your uncomfortable couch.

you stirred at the contact, eyebrows knitting together from your annoyance before you caught sight of the boy above you, the softest, goofiest smile tugging at his lips. your voice was raspy from sleep as you spoke, “how was your day?”

“tiring and long,” taerae replied, “i’m just glad to be out of the studio, i felt like i was going crazy in there.”

you hummed in response, and by now, he had pulled you up from the couch with his arm lazily slung around your shoulders, pulling your body close to his as the two of you walked to your bedroom. the brunette’s eyes flickered down to the shirt that adorned your body. it swallowed your frame and fell just to the middle of your thighs, but you looked cozy as ever in it.

gripping the fabric in between his thumb and forefinger with a gentle smile, he asked, “is this my shirt?”

“yeah,” you blushed over the fact that he taken notice of the stolen object, “none of my sleep shirts were clean. i hope you don’t mind that i borrowed one.”

“of course not. you can steal as many of my shirts as you want if that means i get to see you wear them,” the happy grin on his face was hard to miss, his dimples sinking deep into his cheeks and his eyes crinkling in the corners. 

he pushed your bedroom door open with his foot, the two of you greeted with your unmade bed you didn’t have the energy to fiddle with upon waking up earlier that day. you yawned, learned closer into taerae’s side, desperate to be as close to him as humanly possible. he chuckled at you, “let’s get you to bed, love.”

he didn’t have to tell you again, because you were crawling into bed almost instantly, waiting for him to follow you. he quickly changed before he slipped in next to you, looking visibly exhausted from working late and having a stressful day. you threw an arm over his torso, resting your head on his chest with a content sigh once you were able to hear the rhythm of his heartbeat, “i’m so glad you’re home.”

your words were quiet, almost as if he could miss them if he weren’t listening close enough, and it melted him even more. he kissed the crown of your head, taking note of how your eyes had long since fluttered shut and your breaths were even once again. he pulled the blanket up over your bodies, kissing you once more before whispering, “me too.”

[shikonstar]

I decided to kick off the new year by announcing that I am FINALLY getting my writing back on track!

Here is a small peek of Kagome being just as frustrated as everyone else who has been waiting.

Satisfaction is coming.

From: The Art of Falling in Tandem

@heynikkiyousofine @elkonigin @mustardyellowsunshine @lavendertwilight89 @hahaalaine @ruddcatha @liz8080

Kagome watched as the watery red swirled down the drain, pressing her brush into the steel carefully to make sure she got all of the paint out without damaging the bristles. She had calmed down and was at a good stopping point, so now would be a good time to work on one of the commissions that was closest to a deadline.

She had just laid the brushes out to finish drying and was reaching into the cabinet for a water bottle when the sound of heavy work boots clunking against the hall floor reached her ears. Swallowing thickly, she attempted to keep her mind from hurtling itself straight back into the gutter and undoing all of the progress she had made in the last two hours.

Schooling her features into a pleasant smile, she turned around to face him as if she wasn't bothered at all.

Not the least bit bothered by the way his arms flexed, the arms of the t-shirt barely able to stretch around them.

Not bothered by the way his pants had dipped low and the hem of his shirt had rumpled up, exposing a biteable portion of his six-pack.

Not,

At.

All.

Bothered.

“Done for the day?” She asked, surprised he was calling it quits this early.

He paused in the doorway, crossing his arms.

Damn him.

“Nah, I just thought I’d come see if I could find a tasty little snack,” he answered, his eyes trailing down her body as his tongue slowly smoothed over his lower lip.

Well, stuff her with cream filling and call her a Hostess snack cake.

“O-oh. I’m sure there’s something around here,” she mumbled, turning back to the sink to fill her bottle. She might need two because if the state of her panties were any indication, she was losing fluids at an alarming rate. Her breath hitched as he walked up beside her, so close that the warmth from his body caused goosebumps to rise on her skin. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him reach across the counter and take a peach from a basket that she hadn't noticed earlier--why had he started stocking those on a regular basis? Was he actively trying to kill her?

Inuyasha leaned back into the corner of the counters, making eye contact as he raised the peach to his mouth and slowly bit in. Juice burst from the skin, droplets leaving a wet trail down his chin. With a small smirk, he used his thumb to wipe it up, sucking the digit with an audible slurp.

“Just how I like it—extra juicy.”

Kagome tightened the lid with far more force than necessary, her hands trembling. She repressed a scream; this damned tension better be resolved soon, because she was barely a step away from climbing onto the island and spreading herself like a buffet.

[flowerandblood]

The White Flame (12) (End)

[modern! rockstar • Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader]

[warnings: sex content, smut, fluff]

[description: Aemond is the bassist of the band whose leader and vocalist is his brother. The whole band decides to use the marketing and design help of their guitarist’s friend. The story is an interweaving of domination, desire and slowly burning feeling.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous chapters: Masterlist

_____

After they left together, Bunny talked to Aemond a lot about his future. He hesitated, undecided. The deadline for applying to the University was approaching, and he decided, that he would try next year. He said, that he did not want to make a hasty decision, that he would just stay with the band for now. Bunny pursed her lips at his words.

She was afraid, that he would always postpone it. That it wasn't that he wasn't ready, but that he was afraid, of how others would react to the news of his studies. That they will recognize, that he abandons them, that he thinks only about himself, and in addition, to such an unprofitable direction, as history. She knew the thought petrified him. In the eyes of others, he wanted to be an unapproachable star, not a nerd.

She felt his desperation during their closeness, as he sought comfort in her arms. She could feel his hands clasping her body tightly, pressing her against him, as he moved deep inside her at an intense, hard pace, all sweaty, panting.

“I need you” He whispered in her ear, his thrusts getting messier, loud and wet. She tightened her hands on his back, moaning softly every time, she felt him rub against the spot, that gave her so much pleasure. "I need you so fucking much"

"I need you too" She gasped barely between his thrusts, her mind clouded with pleasure.

He pounced on her as soon, as he returned from rehearsal to the apartment, where they actually lived together. When something bad happened, when he felt threatened or terrified, he sought comfort in her arms, hid deep inside her, wanting to experience pleasure and fulfillment with her. It warmed her, made her want him even more.

He had opened up to her over the months, letting her show more and more his indecisiveness and the unhappiness, that smoldered in his heart. Only now did she understand, that he loved playing in band, but he didn't feel fulfilled, dedicating himself to the dreams of others. He said, that it was only with her, that he began to think about it and felt, like he had wasted years of his life.

His hands tightened on her thighs, he lifted himself up a little, changing the angle slightly, his cock began to massage her with all his might where she needed it. She moaned sweetly, loudly, staring at him with her mouth parted, his black eye staring at her with an almost animalistic lust.

“My sweet girl will come for me again, won't she? I won't cum inside you, until you do." He hissed, his thrusts intense and brutal, sweat running down his beautiful tattooed body.

Bunny's hands tightened on the pillow around her head, she had come with him once before, but now, again, through his words, voice and touch, she felt she was on the edge again. She just nodded her head, not being able to say anything.

"Word." He gasped, meaning their words of safety, feeling himself slowly losing control as he fucked her with all his might, both moaning loudly as they writhed beneath each other.

"Good, good, so fucking good, ah!" She moaned loudly as she leaned back, a sudden, unexpected orgasm, made her voice get stuck in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, her mouth parted, moaning in pleasure. Feeling her grip hard on his cock, he let out a low, almost animal groan, his cock a complete mess.

"Fuck, yes, just like that!" He gasped, as he came hard inside her, feeling his hot, sticky semen flowing into her. He moved for a moment, making sounds of pleasure, unable to stop himself. They both breathed uneasily, staring at each other wide-eyed, panting.

"I love you" He whispered softly, low and she smiled at the words. She pulled him to her and let his body pin her down. He exhaled loudly, as if he had only just felt relief and calmed down. She gently stroked his head, until he fell asleep.

Bunny woke up in the middle of the night, his arm around her waist pressing her tightly against him. She gently extricated herself from his grip, trying not to wake him.

She was excited, and even though it would have been safer to wait until morning, she couldn't help, but be curious, and had to see it now. She put on a thin robe and walked barefoot into the other room, which was now her small study.

She didn't say anything to Aemond, fearing he'd kill them both, but she and Helaena applied to University on his behalf. When Bunny told his sister, what he'd been telling her, Helaena confirmed her worst fears - that if he didn't do it now, then he'd think, that he was too old for it and would quit altogether. They decided to take his documents and certificates from their house. Bunny applied via email.

At 24:00 the results of the recruitment were to appear. Bunny saw, that Aemond had done very well in his exams and had good grades, so she was hopeful. She opened her laptop quickly, typing the University website into the search engine.

She entered her login and password and entered the account dedicated to recruiting new students. She saw, that indeed, results were available, and barely suppressed a shriek of delight when she saw, that Aemond had been admitted to University as one of the top-ranked candidates.

She shivered and closed the laptop quickly, when she heard his footsteps. He switched on the lamp, blinding her and himself for a moment. He stood in front of her in the black sweatpants, that he sometimes slept in, when he was cold. She saw him measure her with a watchful gaze.

"What are you doing?" He asked low, wary, looking at her with furrowed brows. Bunny pursed her lips, trying to hide her smile. She promised Helaena, that they would tell him together if he got in and give him a big surprise. She didn't want to reveal herself.

"Nothing." She whispered sweetly, smiling innocently. "I couldn't sleep and came back to work."

His expression showed dissatisfaction with her answer. He clearly didn't believe her.

"You're hiding something from me and I don't like it. You keep hiding your phone from me lately and disappearing for hours. Will you explain to me what's going on?" He asked angrily, and her stomach clenched at the thought, that she had obviously been hiding her secret mission worse, than she thought.

Indeed, she would face him, shielding her phone from him as she checked, that the documentation she had sent for his recruitment had been approved. She didn't want him to not get in because of her stupid paperwork or one scan too short of some certificate, that was needed. She thought, that he could imagine uncreated things. For example, that she is writing or dating someone else.

She decided, that in such a situation, she had to change her plan a bit. She stood up, approaching him slowly, her thin robe not obscuring the shape of her breasts or hips in any way. She saw the way he looked at her, saw, that he was angry and confused. She held out her hand to him, and he looked at her warily.

"I want to show you something." She said warmly.

He took her hand tentatively and let her lead him to the desk. He sat on the chair and she sat on his lap. He involuntarily embraced her, still sleepy, snuggling against her chest.

She opened the laptop and showed him the window, that she had closed in front of him earlier. He had a list of names in front of him, next to it was a large University logo. He frowned, not understanding what he was looking at.

"What is this?" He asked uncertainly.

She pursed her lips and kissed his hair, wrapping her arms around his head, cradling him tighter against her. She hoped, that he wouldn't kill her or Helaena for it. They had paid to be recruited, but he could have resigned anyway.

"You got into University." She whispered softly, a smile on her face so wide, that she thought her skin would burst. He shifted uneasily in his seat and cleared his throat, suddenly energized.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, looking up at her with wide eye. Bunny pursed her lips, looking at him with happiness written all over her face.

“Me and Helaena applied for you. You got in as one of the best." She said with pride, that was beyond measure.

"Of course, you can opt out." She added after a moment, swallowing softly.

Aemond looked back at the laptop screen, paled, clearly not believing, what he was hearing. He moved the cursor up, reading what was written on the page, as if to make sure, that she wasn't lying to him. He pulled away suddenly and leaned back against the chair, shocked, tense.

"What am I supposed to do now?" He asked quietly, terrified. Bunny shifted on his lap, looking at him fondly.

“Whatever you want. It's your life. Your dreams." She said calmly. She wanted with all her might to beg him to go to University, to finally do something for himself.

"And the concerts? The band?” He asked himself more than her, staring straight ahead with blank eye, involuntarily running his hand over his chin. She could see, that a million thoughts were running through his head at once. She stroked his cheek soothingly.

“You can go to day school and play weekends like Momo does. After all, it's not impossible to do. You might miss some rehearsals, but other than that, it would be as usual." She said gently.

He looked at her, surprised, at how easy it actually sounded. He swallowed loudly, his fingers tracing his chin in excitement. She saw his lips twitch into a smirk. He looked at her, again, fire in his eye.

"You are impossible." He purred, and she could see in his eye, that he had already made up his mind.

She giggled softly and snuggled into him. He wrapped his arms around her quickly and tightly, pressing her against his chest. He stroked her hair as he looked thoughtfully at the computer screen. He wanted to cry with happiness. There was only two words on his lips, that he hadn't said to anyone in so long.

"Thank you."

______

I want to end here because I think it's a perfect time. A new chapter in their lives, together, guided by their shared happiness. Thank you for this journey and for your patience! I feel like I'm ending this series the way I wanted. 🤍

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

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[seangelfish]

Make me laugh!

Ibara Saegusa x Platonic! Reader (Also Platonic! Eden x Reader)

Genre/s: Fluff

Word count: 2,084

Plot/summary: Eden and Ra*bits were participating in a game show called Bogie Time and you had a part in it as well. Your task for the idols was to make you laugh. You wondered how Ibara, your childhood friend, was going to take this...

After their previous round, Ibara had taken a break on his bed, his arm covering his eyes as he muttered complaints to himself. Hajime watched him quietly, wondering if his teammate was alright.

“Um… Saegusa-san,” he began. “Are you okay?”

Ibara sighed, but assured him that he was fine. He just didn’t want to be a part of this game show. They were already so far into it though, so sulking at this point was pathetic.

Ibara got up from his bed and walked over to the table in the middle of the room to join Hajime, who was already on his phone looking at the new announcement.

“This one’s from (Y/N),” Hajime stated which caused a furrowed eyebrow from Ibara.

“(Y/N), huh…?” Ibara murmured. “Whatever game she brings up might be bad…”

Ibara knew everything about you, being childhood friends after all. He was always by your side, but not until you decided to attend Yumenosaki instead of Shuuetsu. Of course, he didn’t mind it, and he even helped you with your application. So, it was a pleasant surprise you decided to apply for Cos Pro instead of the other three agencies. You were his closest friend, one that he loves dearly.

But knowing you, you might make his experience at Bogie Time even worse.

Hajime giggled nervously, “I-I’ll just read it.”

Ibara listened attentively as Hajime read the announcement out loud:

“(Y/N), an idol and producer at Cos Pro, has tasked the participants to make her laugh!”

Ibara blinked and stared at Hajime for him to continue, but that was the end of the announcement.

“‘To make her laugh,’” Ibara quoted. “I think I know where this is going.”

Hajime smiled, “So do I.”

The next day, the participants gathered around together at the Bogie Time stage. Hiyori did his bit with introducing the new episode, and afterwards, Jun introduced you to the audience.

“Hello, everyone!” you greeted excitedly, both to the participants and to the audience. “How are we feeling today?”

Ibara sighed, “(Y/N), please don’t act like the host.”

“Oh, my beloved Ibara,” you teased. “I was just having fun, hehe!”

The rest of the Eden members were happy to see you. You were really close to them and you would annoy them a lot with work at Cos Pro. You knew of Ra*bits too, since you attended Yumenosaki, so you immediately latched yourself onto Hajime who didn’t mind the affection.

“Anyways,” you began, letting go of the Ra*bits member. “The task I want you to do today is to make me laugh! So, let me tell you my rules…”

You proceeded with your conditions:

• Make (Y/N) laugh in under 30 seconds. Each member of a team has one chance.

• You can make (Y/N) laugh by the means of your actions or words, but you mustn't touch her (i.e. tickling).

• If you successfully make (Y/N) laugh, you earn 800 points. If you don’t by the time 30 seconds are up, you lose 300 points.

“That seems easy enough,” commented Jun.

“Mhmm,” Ibara agreed.

And as they both seemed like they read each other’s mind, they said, “Because (Y/N) laughs at almost everything.”

The first team to go up against you was Team God, Nagisa and Mitsuru.

“Are you ready for this, (Y/N)?!” exclaimed Mitsuru excitedly.

You would’ve smiled at his enthusiasm, but you were already in the zone of not trying to laugh, so you nodded eagerly without the emotion.

“Give it your best, Tenma-kun,” said Nagisa.

"Alright, here I go!" Mitsuru began. "Try to guess who I'm impersonating, (Y/N)!"

Oooh, an impersonation? you thought. That's a clever idea.

Mitsuru got into position. His eyes were closed as he took in a deep breath. Then out of nowhere, he went, "Waa! I need to get these done before the deadline which is months away! I'm going to keep working even when I need rest!"

Mitsuru was running around the place, pretending that he was working on a clipboard. This made you smile slightly as you already knew the person he was trying to imitate.

You burst out laughing when Mitsuru pretended to drop his 'glasses' and tried to find them on the floor.

"HAHAHA!" you laughed. "It's Tsumugi, right?!"

Mitsuru stopped acting to tell you that your answer was correct. He was indeed impersonating Tsumugi Aoba, his senior that he was roommates with.

"And Team God is awarded 800 points!" announced Hiyori. "This challenge seems easy, but we can't underestimate Cos Pro's beloved idol and producer. Maybe things will get harder! Who knows?"

It was Nagisa's chance to make you laugh. As he was getting into position, Ibara whispered his thoughts to Hajime.

"We might have a chance to come back around," he told him.

Hajime nodded in agreement, "Yes, I won't let you down!"

It wasn't hard for Nagisa to make you smile. He was so effortlessly funny without meaning to be. He was thinking of what to do to make you laugh, but you had immediately started giggling at his thinking expression.

"(Y/N), you didn't even give me a chance," he said, but he wasn't annoyed or anything. Nagisa gave you a soft smile as you spouted out your apologies.

In the end, Team God was awarded 1600 points. When it was Team Bunny's turn, Hiyori and Nazuna had a different strategy in mind. Hiyori was hoping to just tickle you, but Nazuna had to remind him that they weren't allowed touching. So, they ended up trying to woo you instead.

Now this was hilarious. Although you didn't laugh at Hiyori's attempt at wooing you, you couldn't stop your chuckles from escaping when it was Nazuna's turn.

"(Y/N), no fair!" Hiyori cried. "You didn't laugh when it was my turn!"

"That's because you always act that way around me!" you retorted back. "But Nazuna acting like that? That was so unexpected, hahaha!"

Nazuna was kind of embarrassed, but he was also proud of himself. Team Bunny was rewarded 800 points, but they technically only went up 500 points since Hiyori lost the 300.

Team Hyena was the same because you were finally getting serious. You laughed at the joke Tomoya tried telling you, but you kept a deadpan expression when it was Jun's turn.

"(Y/N), are you doing this on purpose?" Jun asked you, ruffling your hair in teasing frustration. "You tried your hardest to not laugh at my joke, I saw you!"

"No, it just wasn't funny!" you lied.

Lastly, it was Team Snakey's turn. Hajime had already thought of something to make you laugh with, but Ibara was still having trouble.

"You can do what I do!" suggested Hajime. "Just follow my lead!"

Ibara was surprised at the confidence his teammate was emitting.

"Alright, let's see what you have to offer," he said with a smile. "Good luck."

Hajime approached you, but stopped a metre away from you. He took in a deep breath and you could see that he was kind of nervous.

You can do it, Hajime! you cheered on in your mind.

Hajime suddenly straightened his back and saluted, "totsugeki; shinryaku; seiha!" at the top of his voice. The other participants were quiet and so were you. This wasn't what they expected coming from a little guy like Hajime.

But after a few seconds of Hajime trying to impersonate his teammate, you started laughing and wouldn't stop. You tried to cover your mouth and everything, even slight tears started to form in your eyes.

Ibara was absolutely baffled.

"HAHAHA!" you guffawed. "That was amazing, Hajime! I'm literally crying...! You did so well. I loved it! You sound so much like Ibara, hahaha!"

Ibara was kind of irked by your reaction, but Hajime was proud that he was able to make you laugh.

"T-Thank you, (Y/N)-san!" he replied happily.

The other Eden members had let out chuckles too. They agreed with your statement that Hajime did sound like Ibara. Unfortunately for Ibara, he couldn't defend himself as he was on TV, so he stayed quiet.

Hajime noticed his teammate's reaction and tried apologising, but Ibara was having none of it.

"Don't apologise," he said. "You did a good job. You actually did nail that impression."

"Oh! Um, thank you, Saegusa-san!"

"Alright, it's my turn now," Ibara sighed as he approached you.

"Yes, good luck!" cheered Hajime. "You can do it!"

Ibara stood in front of you and locked eyes with yours. You smiled at him, but in a way that would annoy him. You wondered what he was going to do for his act to make you laugh. You wondered whether he was able to make you laugh like the others because it was usually the other way around with your friendship with him.

And Ibara knew that too. You're the one who would try to make him laugh especially on rough days. You were a ray of sunshine and he was a dull, dark day that pretended to be sunny. He always appreciated your company and the warmth it provided him. But this time it was his turn to make you smile, and he really hoped you would smile from his words.

Despite Hajime's suggestion of just following his lead, Ibara decided not to do an impersonation of his teammate, and decided to do something more up your alley.

He decided to sing you one of your songs.

Yes, since you were an idol too at Cos Pro, you had songs of your own. You would usually write your own songs too, so they had a lot of meaning towards you. You gained a lot of popularity because of these songs as they were considered unique and new to the industry.

And Ibara was singing one of them right now — even dancing the choreography!

You were absolutely stunned and so were your fellow idols. They watched his performance without a word and when he was finished, he looked at you with a look that said, "So?"

You honestly didn't know how to react, but a smile appeared on your face and it wasn't because you found it funny though.

"That was so cute!" you laughed.

It was a genuine laugh, a laugh that told Ibara how much you appreciated him. Ibara stared at you in surprise. You actually liked that?

"That was a beautiful performance," you commented. "Let's collab together someday, okay?"

Ibara smiled, "I'll think about it."

Hajime congratulated Ibara on successfully making you laugh. The other members of Eden on the other hand teased him.

"With the challenge coming to an end, Team Snakey gained 1600 points!" Hiyori reported to the crowd. "We all did well everyone, so give yourself a round of applause!"

As Hiyori continued to announce who was in the lead (it wasn't Team Snakey), you walked over to Ibara to congratulate him.

"But we didn't win," he replied.

"Yeah, but it seemed like you were having fun there for a sec," you said. "I hope you continue to have fun. It's nice to see you act carefree, you know?"

He responded to your statement with a small smile.

[Extra]

A few days after all the stages have been completed, you found out that Ibara's team had lost. Hiyori had invited you to check out Ibara's punishment and of course you wanted to see what it was!

And there Ibara was, sitting at one of the tables wearing what seems to be a really cute outfit! He was also wearing extensions and jewellery. He really looked like a pretty girl!

You couldn't contain your excitement.

"Ibara, you look beautiful!" you squealed as you hugged him from behind before gasping at your inappropriate reaction. "Please cut that out!"

"Ugh, I hate this so much..." Ibara hissed from under his breath.

"But you really do look pretty," you tried complimenting.

"Yes, but a bunch of men had already approached me with greasy smiles... It was revolting," he started. "So I showed them no reaction whatsoever even when they called out to me."

You were about to say something to this, but he continued, "I bet that's how you feel almost everyday, right? I get it now. It's irritating."

You couldn't help but smile at this.

"Ibara, you've always been really understanding," you said. "It's something that I really like about you! But nevermind that, let's take a picture together! ...Please?!"

Ibara wouldn't allow it, but you took a quick selfie with him anyway. You were going to treasure this picture forever even if it angered him.

Intro page | Ensemble Stars masterlist | Rules

[wruffdraft]

Wolf Shift

A short story about a girl who has to balance her unwilling transition into a werewolf with appearing normal to her human acquaintances and her crush (...and also the realization that she's queer). I will be releasing each part every few days.

Part 1: Closeted.

There's this one girl in my English class who, for some reason, I can't stop staring at. From across the room I fixate on her face, the softness of her jaw and the way her short hair curls around her ears taking all my attention away from Frankenstein. She doesn't pay attention in class and avoids talking to anybody. She leaves in the middle of the lecture to go to the bathroom and she's gone for like 15 minutes at a time, I mean, she obviously doesn’t care about the class. There's just something about the way she binds her chest and rolls up her sleeves that makes me feel like I need to touch her, I can't figure it out, why do I have this urge to bury my nose in her neck and surround myself in her scent? I’ve never been this attracted to somebody before. Maybe this is just something that happens to people who really want to make friends with somebody. Something like that.

On my walk home from class I walked past a small restaurant on the busiest tourist street. The smell of fried shrimp wafted under my nose as a customer opened the door. I swear I could literally taste the crispy batter and the soft white meat as I walked past, the fleshy crunch of each bite in my teeth passing through my mouth as I ravaged it to bits. This deep, strange hunger followed me all the way down the block, taking over my mind and making me feel so excited for something I knew I wasn’t going to have. I stopped for a second. Should I go back? I glanced over my shoulder to check if I could still see the store. My jaw suddenly seemed heavier, as if a piece of wax had been wedged in between my teeth, preventing me from closing my mouth at all. I realized how much saliva I was dripping on my shirt, and quickly reached up to grab my face, almost surprised when I didn’t feel a muzzle and instead nearly stuck my fingers straight into my mouth. Why did I expect a muzzle? 

The burning ambient stare of a person from the corner of my eye alerted my attention to the crowd of people waiting behind me at the crosswalk. Embarrassed, I quickly dodged past them, turning the corner into the dark sidepath dappled in shadow from the looming trees. In my panic I nearly ran straight into my friend Carissa, who had spotted me from across the street.

“Tall… and slender… You’re GORGEOUS.” she said, batting her eyelashes and twirling her hair.

“Dude, shut the fuck up,” I said, laughing and pushing her away, “I can’t deal with you this early in the morning.”

“Oh, you love me so much it hurts.” Carissa has this awfully crude sense of humor, and I’m used to it, but it still makes me feel happy when she looks at me and touches me and connects with me, even if she’s doing something as stupid as platonic catcalling. It’s nice to have somebody else who sees me. As I watched her smile spread across her face I could feel something warm build up inside me, filling me with a weird fuzzy feeling of excitement. Suddenly, I felt something soft brush against my leg. It was really light, almost like some sort of phantom sensation, as if I had a tail wagging behind me. I shuddered as it fell against my legs, and I threw my hands behind me to grab at it, but felt nothing. It was as if I had just imagined it. Carissa laughed at how bewildered I looked (probably looked extra stupid because I was grabbing at my ass), and I tried my best to laugh with her. I feel like I'm losing it. I hope she couldn't tell.

I washed my face in the sink with cold water to try and wake myself up. I had like two huge deadlines that week for econ and computer science, and I needed to stay up even later to finish up my research. Through my wet, blurred vision I stared at my face across the mirror, trying to piece together who I even was anymore. I've felt disconnected from my body all week, and I'm not sure why. Probably just freshman nerves.

[terresdebrume]

I started writing this at work because I didn't get any prompt for my flash fic drive yesterday but I still wanted to do a little something, and this is what came out. On the upside, it's longer than my usual flash ficlets so. Yay for my first completed Webgott work :P

Bedtime Stories

They're in bed, settled in for an early evening with the blankets high under their chins. David is half draped over Joe's chest, because he likes having his head in the crook of Joe's neck and also because Joe likes the extra warmth—it's toasty, like this, and David has sweat gliding down his neck, but he enjoys this too much to let it go. Spending their winter evenings like this—him, finishing the day's crosswords in the San Francisco Chronicles, listening to Joe's heartbeat while Joe's fingers run through his hair and make an absolute nest out of it, the latest best seller in his free hand to keep the memories of Bastogne he rarely talks about at bay—very few things in the world compare to this. David will take all the sweat in the world and then some to keep this. He's comfortable, and warm, and beloved, and he's inches from sleep when he feels Joe's breathing speed up.

David looks up, frowning, but Joe's face doesn't look the way he does when the ghosts of the war catch up with him. He is frowning though, shoulders tensing under David's cheek, and David puts his pencil down, reaching up to cup Joe's cheek in his hand. Joe, his eyes still fixed on the book, doesn't pay attention to him until David starts fiddling with the branches of his reading glasses. He takes the kind of deep breath that comes after losing oneself between the pages of a good book, the release of deep focus and tension melting him further against the headboard.

"Am I bothering you, your highness?" He asks, and David puts on the haughtiest air he can muster:

"Yes, as a matter of fact. It's quite the racket in there. Good scene?"

Joe hums, contemplating, and twists until he can land a kiss in the palm of David's hand. He stays there for a moment or two, quiet enough that David wonders if maybe he's gotten lost in thoughts, until he says:

"I'd say efficient, more than good. I don't know that I like it."

David makes a questioning noise. He hasn't followed the plot of Joe's book very closely—Joe started it while David was rushing to meet three separate deadlines and had no mind to remember the details of some rich excentric man's birthday plans. Worse: the book is apparently the sequel to a children's story that David hasn't read, and overall seemed to expect its readers to care quite a bit more about genealogy than David is prepared to. He does nod when Joe asks if he remembers what happened last.

"They're at the inn now, right? With the uh. Ranger man."

Joe snorts, and David has known and loved him long enough by now to hear the implied 'literature studies and that's how you describe a plot. Pathetic.' A few years ago, David would have taken offense at that, but he's too comfortable for bickering tonight, so instead he makes a conceding hum and tilts his head up until Joe rolls his eyes and kisses him.

"Read it to me?" He asks after they pull apart some time later.

"'As they prepared for sleep in the inn at Bree, darkness lay on Buckland. A mist strayed in the dells and along the riverbank. The house at Crickhollow stood silent. Fatty Bolger opened the door cautiously and peered out.'"

Joe has a good reading voice, despite his protests. It's not the kind of voice they'd pick for the job on the radio, but the way he puts gravitas into the narration would put George Luz and his impressions to shame. It's easy for David to relax back down against him and try to imagine what a character named Fatty Bolger might look like.

"'A feeling of fear had been growing on him all day,'" Joe continues, "'and he was unable to rest or go to bed. There was a brooding threat, in the breathless night air. As he stared out into the gloom, a black shadow moved under the trees.'"

David's heart beat picks up just as Joe's does, his spine stiffening with the memory of countless guard rotations—the fight against exhaustion, the knowledge that in the dark every shadow could spell his death. The terror shooting through him with every crack of a branch or rustle of a leaf.

"'The gate seemed to open of its own accord, and close again without a sound,'" Joe continues, his free hand moving from David's head down to his shoulder. "'Terror seized him. He shrank back, and for a moment he stood trembling in the hall... then he shut and locked he door.'"

David's hand abandons its position on Joe's cheek and goes to grip Joe's hand instead. There is a tremor in his knees: the dull shock of landing on damp grass in the night, machine guns roaring in the distance—the rush of getting the 'chute off, pulling his rifle into position. Staring frantically into the pitch darkness of Normandy and desperately resisting the urge to shoot at the first thing that moves.

"'The night deepened,'" Joe continues, the rhythm of his ribcage against David's back speeding up again, his voice growing more tense by the second. "'There came the soft sound of horses led with stealth along the lane. Outside the gate, they stopped, and three black figures entered, like shades of night creeping across the ground. One went to the door.'"

Another night, another building to clear. Rushing to the door, trying to think about what to do—grenade, wait, rush in—rather than what could be waiting there.

"'One to the corner of the house on either side, and there they stood, as still as the shadows of stone while the night went slowly on. The house and the quiet trees seemed to be waiting breathlessly.'"

The dissonance between the quiet and the fear. The knowledge that peace was still there, just out of reach behind gossamer curtains.

"'There was a faint stir in the leaves, and a cock crowed far away. The cold hour before dawn was passing.'"

Waiting in a ditch, with dozens of better armed men a scant few feet away from realizing they could hose the lot of them down in less than a minute. Dreading the only orders Winters could possibly give in that situation, and knowing there would be nothing for it but to execute them anyway.

"'The figure by the door moved. In the dark without a moon or stars, a drawn blade gleamed, as if a chill light had been unsheathed. There was a blow—'"

Something knocks against the front door, and David jumps so hard his head collides with Joe's chin, whose yelp echoes in the little bedroom. They sit together for a moment, the fingers of their clasped hands tight around each other as they slow their breathing down as best as they can. There's another knock, and this time David only flinches before he straightens up. He glances at Joe behind him and finds him pale and drawn, the familiar furrow of his anger cutting deep between his eyebrows as he grips David's hand tighter than ever.

"I'll get it," David says as their landlady starts calling for them at the door.

He brings Joe's hand to his lips and presses a kiss on the back of it, just so he can remind himself where he is—where they are—before he makes his way through the tiny apartment, vaguely combing through his hair until he opens the door. Mrs. Obradovic startles, and immediately falls into a concerned frown:

"Is everything alright my dear? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

The truth of it is both much sillier and infinitely more serious than Mrs. Obradovic thinks, but David doesn't feel up to baring his soul to his octogenarian proprietor, no matter how kindly she is, so he makes himself laugh.

"I almost thought I did. How may I help you?"

She points down to a small bag on the floor.

"Josep finally came home with the coal," she says, still visibly concerned. "I'd have waited until tomorrow, but I know your Joe doesn't do well with the cold."

"Thank you, Mrs. Obradovic," David says, sincere through the headiness of calming down after an abrupt fright. "You're an angel."

"Nonsense, nonsense. Now, you boys have a good night, and let me know if you need anything else, yes?"

"We will. Thank you again," David says, and finds himself giving her a warmer smile than he normally does, touched by her continued concern over Joe's well being.

He closes the door behind her, locks it, and deals with the coal before he makes his way back to the bedroom, dusting his hands off as he walks. The book is back on Joe's bedside table when he enters, red eye staring at David from the wide black circle on the cover, and the spindly red runes almost feel like they're about to start moving. On the bed, Joe is no longer as pale as the novel's cover, which David decides to take as a good sign as he crawls up onto Joe's lap and takes his face between his hands.

"So," he says, pressing his forehead against Joe's and taking deep breaths to calm himself down. "I see what you meant by efficient."

"Yeah."

There is a brief silence, and then Joe sighs and goes soft between David's palms, pliant like he is after nightmares finally let go of him, usually several hours past dawn. David draws him in and nuzzles his nose, dipping in to plant little kisses on Joe's cheeks. On his hips, he feels Joe's fingers tighten again, almost to the point of bruising, until Joe's arms wrap around his waist and pull him in tight.

"Fuck," Joe says eventually, the slip into German more familiar now that David finally convinced him there was no reason to punish himself for what the Nazis did. "Fuck, it's just a fucking book."

"Well, at least you're not the one who nearly broke his lover's nose over it."

That startles a laugh out of Joe, and he tilts his head up to kiss David's lips. They don't kiss like that often—usually, Joe prefers to tug David downward to negate their height difference. But David likes it when he gets to kiss Joe from above, likes the opportunity to cradle his face with his hands, the excuse to treat Joe like the precious thing he is without being accused of thinking he's fragile. They lose themselves in the kiss for several long minutes, and by the end David is almost back to the the mellow state he was in before they started reading.

"Right," Joe says, picking up the book from the bedside table and tossing it to the other end of the room, "Goodbye, Tolkien."

"I don't know," David says, eyes drawn to where the first few letters of 'Fellowship' shimmer in the dim light of Joe's bedside lamp, "I'm intrigued now."

"Intrigued?" Joe repeats, incredulous. "You nearly shat yourself."

"Yeah, well, so did you," David shoots back, soothing the sting with a kiss on Joe's nose. "What can I say, I'm braver about fiction than reality."

"Like I didn't know that," Joe scoffs, and David rolls his eyes.

"I'm serious, Liebling. I'm going to read it."

"Right."

"Just...maybe not at night," David admits, and Joe's face goes from gently mocking to purely fond as he squeezes his arms around David's waist.

"Don't worry," he says, visibly going for a joking tone, "I'll hug you better if you scare yourself."

Joke's on him, though, because that's exactly what David was angling for.

ETA: Cleaned up (and longer!) Version now available on AO3!