#someone hold us face and he’ll sound normal

[smallest-clown]

Brian Murphy finally got to use his perfected frog man voice that he’s trained for years in naddpod

[mywritersmind]

THE MOST GORGEOUS - LN4

summary : Lando is convinced he’s found the love of his life during media day, embarrasses himself, and can’t stop flirting!!

listen up : flirty lando! pretend it rained in zandvoort🫨

word count : 616

“Carlos!” I hear the voice before I see him, and he definitely doesn’t see me because as he slides into the room he looks directly at his friend, “Carlos! Did you see that reporter!? Fucking hell, She’s the most gorgeous woman i’ve ever seen! And I saw her completely rage at-”

He spots me then.

I’m sitting in a corner, watching him talk about me. I have to say, My ego is extraordinarily boosted. His hands slap down to the side of his body, his eyes going wide.

I can’t help but laugh, “Hi.” I say, glancing at Carlos who’s already cracking up.

Lando puts his hand on the bridge of his bandaged nose, clearing his throat, he hesitantly looks back up at me, “Hello.”

“You know, I prayed for something comical to happen today! Thank you so much, mate!” Carlos slaps his friend on the back before making his way out, shaking his head at me, “See you!”

“Um…” Lando swallows, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t talking about you?” I’m normally not so self centered but I really believe he is talking about me.

“I saw you get escorted into the ‘no press’ area…” He nods, his lips in a thin line, “I was also the only woman in the media pen.”

“Right! Of course.” He leans his arm against a chair, using the other one to motion at me, “Well… Nice job yelling at Vowles.”

I smile and stand, pulling my skirt down a bit, “He deserved it.” I shrug and grab my purse and paddock pads.

“No doubt.” He watches me walk past, “Wait!” I turn and tilt my head, “Would you want to- get coffee?” he looks nervous.

“No… sorry.”

At this, he looks shocked at my blatant refusal, “Uh… That’s alright. Hey! I never got your name.”

I nod, “True.” I walk out and I hear him call after me.

“I’m Lando! By the way!”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Great race today, Lando.” I say into the microphone as the man stands in front of me. He’s sweaty and holding onto his water for dear life.

I’ve never seen his eyes so blue. Not that I’ve seen much of him in person… I’m new to the interviewer game, made my way up slowly, “Easy to do well when I know you’re watching.”

He just won Max’s home race and apparently winner Lando is a very flirty being. I raise a brow, “How will you be celebrating tonight? Big party?”

He runs his hand over his mouth, “Nah… looking to hang out with someone special.” Is he… asking me out? Now!?

I clear my throat, trying to stay professional, “Sounds Lovely.”

“Hopefully it will be! If she says yes.” He’s looking directly into my eyes, my cheeks feeling hot.

“Mmm who would say no to Lando Norris?”

He licks his lips, “I know one person.” I shake myself out of it, remembering the camera facing him and the mic in my hand.

“So! I’m assuming you're pleased with tyre management today? Pretty wet track, Is that harder or more fun?”

His mouth pulls into a slow smirk and I know i’m doomed, “Prefer it wet after a few boring races.” He shrugs and I roll my eyes because I know what he’ll say next, “Quite slick today but nothing i’m not used to.”

His media manager taps his shoulder, letting us know time is up, “Have a good day celebrating, Norris.”

“Appreciate it, Y/n.” He winks and turns around. I sigh and turn the other way, praying my cheeks will cool down.

He knows my name.

[bunny-1111]

Did I stutter? TN x fem!reader Part 2.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

WARNING: SMUTTTT, Reader discretion (18+) NO MINORSSSSSSS PLS

Authors note: first smut kinda nervous... this is a long one, I hope y'all enjoy <3

Part one here

reblogs, likes and comments appreciated my loves <3

...

What the fuck now, you think, making your way to the common room.

You shake your head, trying to clear the confusion, but it’s useless. Theo’s always been hard to read, kept his cards too close to his chest, but this feels different—like he’s dropped the mask just enough for you to glimpse something darker lurking beneath. Something you’re not sure how to deal with, what the fuck is next, this sudden dominance is not hard to accept but hard to understand.

When you finally return to the common room, Pansy lounges on one of the sofas, flipping through a magazine. She barely looks up when you enter.

“Well? Did he say anything?” she asks, her voice dripping with casual curiosity, but you know her well enough to recognise the gleam of mischief in her eyes.

"How did you even see us having a conversation?" you enquire, brows furrowing

"I saw you walk past, then I saw Theo walk back The opposite way with a tiny but telling smile on his face", she smiles "So tell me, what did he say? Did he ask you to the dance?" she continues.

You toss your bag onto the floor, sinking into the chair opposite her. “No, not exactly,” you mutter, more confused than ever. Your mind still replaying the look Theo gave you, the way he practically claimed you without saying a word.

Pansy arches an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your lack of gossip. “Not exactly? That doesn’t sound like nothing. Come on, spill.”

You bite your lip, hesitating. “He asked if anyone had asked me, and when I said no, he said… ‘Good. Keep it that way.’” The words feel strange in your mouth as if they don’t belong to a casual conversation but something heavier and more serious.

Pansy stares at you for a moment, then her lips curl into a knowing smirk. “Oh, that’s rich. Typical Theo.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Pansy tosses the magazine aside, leaning forward like she’s about to reveal some grand secret. “He’s marking his territory, babe. Telling you not to go with anyone else, without actually having the guts to ask you himself.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words. Could she be right? Was Theo staking some kind of silent claim over you? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and not entirely out of fear. There’s a part of you—a part you’re not sure you’re ready to admit to—that likes the idea of being claimed by him.

But that doesn’t mean you’re okay with the way he’s going about it.

“So what?” you say, exasperation creeping into your voice. “He’s just going to tell me to wait around for him while he ignores me at the ball?”

Pansy shrugs, unbothered. “Pretty much. That’s how these boys work. They want you, but they’re too proud to ask. So they’ll just… hover.”

You roll your eyes, sinking further into the chair. “I’m not going to just sit here and wait for him to make up his mind.”

Pansy grins, eyes twinkling with something dangerous. “Then don’t. Go with someone else. Let him squirm.”

The idea sounds thrilling, but you know it’s not that simple. Theo’s not the kind of guy you can make squirm. He’s the kind that would shut down any attempt to get under his skin, the kind who would lash out rather than admit any kind of weakness. And yet, the thought of pushing him—of seeing just how far he’ll go to keep you—lights a fire in your chest.

That's what you will do. Push him until he can't hold off any longer.

Toying with Theo was a dangerous game to play, even if you knew that, but if he's just going to sit there and not make anything happen, then, fuck, you need to take matters into your own hands.

Yes, you could just do the normal thing and pull him aside for a conversation, but now, where's the fun in that?

The next day, arriving at charms class, you don't take your usual seat with Theo and your friends. Instead, you skip over and find a place next to Anthony Goldstein, a cute Ravenclaw boy, who you knew would piss Theo off.

"Morning", you smile at Anthony. He looks at you, confused but excited.

"Good morning," he returns, starting what would become a cheerful conversation. As you laugh and talk throughout the class, you quickly glance over at a visibly upset Theodore and a very wide-smiling pansy. She knew what you were doing, and Theodore was catching on, too.

Theo’s eyes are burning holes into the back of your head, and you can feel it. Every time you lean in a little closer to Anthony, let out a laugh that’s just a touch too loud; you know Theo’s watching. It’s exactly what you wanted—his attention, focus, and jealousy. But now that you have it, it’s making your skin prickle in anticipation in a way you hadn’t fully prepared for.

Anthony’s sweet, too sweet. He’s charming, and he’s kind, but he’s not Theo. There’s no edge to him, no danger. And while the conversation flows easily enough, your mind keeps drifting back to the boy brooding in the corner, whose eyes haven’t left you since the class began. You know he’s seething. Good. He should be. He warned you to keep away from any guy who could want something off you, but you weren’t getting enough out of Theo, so he pushed this out of you, you determine. 

As the class drags on, you notice the shift in the air. Theo’s presence feels suffocating, almost predatory like he’s just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You can’t help but glance over again, meeting his gaze for just a second—long enough to see the storm brewing behind his eyes. His jaw is clenched, his hands gripping the edge of the desk, and for a second, you think he might snap right there in the middle of class, but he doesn’t. He’s controlled, as always. And that only frustrates you more.

You knew you were aggravating him. You have no idea what the consequences are; you have a feeling brewing in your chest that you would find out sooner than later. 

When your professor dismisses the class, you gather your things slowly, lingering by Anthony’s side, pretending not to notice the way Theo’s already standing by the door, waiting for you. Anthony smiles, oblivious, and asks if you’d like to walk to the Great Hall with him. You almost say yes, just to push Theo a little further, but before the words leave your mouth, you feel a hand wrap firmly around your wrist.

You turn to see Theo, his eyes dark and dangerous, staring down at you with a look that makes your heart race.

“We need to talk,” he says, his voice low and commanding.

You don’t even have a chance to respond before he’s tugging you out of the classroom, pulling you through the corridors, a man on a mission. You stumble to keep up, your mind racing to catch up with him, but there’s no mistaking the tension in the air now. He’s pissed. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what you wanted.

When he drags you into a broom closet and slams the door behind you, your pulse is pounding in your ears. Theo’s still gripping your wrist, his fingers tight around your skin, and when he finally lets go, your breathe was still held tight, like he was the one who could allow you to exhale 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snaps, his voice cold, but his eyes—God, his eyes are on fire.

You straighten up, refusing to back down. “What do you mean?”

Theo takes a step closer, his chest brushing against yours as he looms over you. “You know exactly what I mean,” he growls. “Sitting with Goldstein. Laughing with him. What was that, huh? Trying to make me jealous?”

You raise an eyebrow, refusing to show how much his proximity affects you. “Is it working?”

His jaw ticks, and for a moment, you think he might lose control. But then he surprises you—he leans in even closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You want to play games, fine. But you’re playing with fire, sweetheart. And I don’t think you’re ready for what happens next.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again. The tension between you is electric, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, the way his body is coiled, ready to snap. You know you’ve pushed him to the edge, but you’re not backing down now. Not when you’ve come this far.

“I think I can handle it,” you challenge, your voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. It’s enough to break whatever restraint Theo’s been holding onto.

“Are you sure?” he stalks even closer, leaning down to you, his fingers forcing your face up to his all you can do it nod as an unexpected wave of shyness hits you. Your heart drops when you hear a gentle but quick knock on the door, please, you think no one interrupts what might just finally happen. You both look at the twisting door knob, silence falls. 

“Hey, it everything ok in here? It’s Anthony” your heart drops, Theo might spiral. 

His hands loop around you, pushing you behind him, opening the door, “Everything's just fine. You don’t go following girls into broom closets all the time, do you? Shes with me. Now fuck far off,” Theo replied, slamming the door in his face. 

You hear his footsteps quickly rush off  

He flicks the lock of the door so quickly, so quick to kiss you that anything you feel melts away, in an instant, his hands are on you, gripping your waist, pulling you against him with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. His lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, like he’s finally letting go of everything he’s been holding back. You don’t even have time to think before you kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, harder, deeper.

It’s all heat and intensity, a wild storm brewing for far too long. Theo’s hands roam over your body, possessive and hungry, like he’s claiming every inch of you as his, his lips never leaving yours as his hands work quickly, almost frantically, to tug at the hem of your shirt. You gasp as his fingers brush against your skin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. Theo pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and hooded with desire.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice thick with possessiveness.

You nod, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m yours.”

That’s all he needs to hear. In one swift motion, he lifts you onto a surface, everything happening so fast you dont even know what he’s sat you on; all you can focus on is his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher as he moves between your legs. His lips are on your neck now, kissing, biting, leaving marks that you know will be there tomorrow. 

Your hands fumble with his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. When you finally get it off, you run your hands over the hard planes of his chest, savouring the way his muscles tense under your touch. Theo groans against your neck, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. But you don’t care. You want more. You need more.

“Theo,” you gasp, arching your back as his lips trail lower, his hands working quickly to undo the buttons of your blouse. He doesn’t waste any time, pulling it off and tossing it aside before his mouth finds your skin again.

He’s everywhere—his hands, lips, teeth—and it’s all too much, not enough. You’re dizzy with it, consumed by him, by the way, he touches you like he’s been starving for it. For you.

He only stops for a second, his lips not far from yours but far enough to speak, “I can’t take you in a broom closet, alright? Let’s go to my dorm; you’ll be more comfortable” he quickly says, almost out of breath. 

“Theo” you mutter “You can take me anywhere. Here’s just fine, please, I can’t wait anymore, please, I don’t want to waste another second” you whine, quickly joining your lips together again. 

He doesn’t protest; when he finally pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his eyes dark and heavy with desire. “You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. “Fuck, no one else gets to touch you. Understand?”

You nod, your heart racing as you reach for him again, pulling him back to you. “Only you.”

And then his lips are on yours again, and there’s no going back this time.

Theo’s mouth crashes against yours with even more intensity, his hands gripping your hips as though he can’t stand the thought of being apart from you for even a second. It’s not just a kiss anymore—it’s a declaration of something raw and primal that neither of you have the strength to fight off any longer.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him against you. You can feel the hard press of his body against yours, and it sends a wave of heat through you so intense it makes your head spin. His hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt, and your breath hitches as his fingers brush over the thin fabric of your underwear. You can feel the smirk on his lips as he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice rough, eyes dark with desire as they roam over your flushed face. “All worked up for me, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

You want to come up with some smart reply, something to challenge him, but all that comes out is a soft whimper as his fingers tease the edge of your underwear, barely grazing where you need him most. Your body arches and pulses into his touch, silently begging for more, and Theo’s smirk deepens.

“Patience,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll give you what you want, but you must tell me what you want.”

Your pride screams at you not to give in, not to let him have that satisfaction, but the ache between your legs is too much. You need him, now. So, you swallow your pride, your voice coming out in a shaky whisper.

“Please, Theo. Please”

“Tsk tsk tsk, please, what? Come on, words, sweet thing,”

“I need you to touch me Teddy, need to feel you” You practically whimper 

Your pleading seems to flip a switch in him, and suddenly his teasing stops. His fingers slip under the fabric, brushing against your soaked core, and you gasp, your head falling back as the sensation sends sparks shooting through your body

“Good girl,” he growls, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck as his fingers begin to move in slow, deliberate circles. “So fucking perfect for me.”

Your hands grip his back exposed, your body trembling as his fingers work you over with an expert precision that makes it clear he’s been thinking about this for a long time. You can barely breathe, your mind going fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure as Theo’s thumb presses against your clit, drawing out a moan that you can’t hold back.

“Look at you,” he mutters, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watches the way your body reacts to his touch. “Falling apart for me already. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his fingers, send you spiralling closer and closer to the edge, your body tightening with the mounting tension. You can feel it building, coiling in your stomach like a spring ready to snap, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you fall over the edge.

Theo must sense it too, because his pace quickens, his fingers moving faster, harder, and his lips find yours again, swallowing your moans as you cling to him. Your entire body is on fire, the pleasure so intense it feels like you might break apart at any second, and then, finally, you do.

The it hits you like a wave, crashing over you with a force that steals the breath from your lungs. You cry out, your nails digging into Theo’s shoulders as your body trembles beneath him, completely lost in the sensation. Theo doesn’t let up, his fingers continuing their steady rhythm as he helps you ride out every last shudder of pleasure. You can’t help but sink your teeth into his shoulder.

By the time it finally fades, you’re left panting, your body limp and spent as you rest against the desk, your forehead pressed against Theo’s shoulder. He’s breathing hard too, his chest rising and falling in time with yours, but there’s a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice a low growl as he brushes a strand of hair away from your flushed face. “No one else. Ever.”

You nod, still catching your breath, your heart racing in your chest. “Only yours,” you whisper, and you mean it.

Theo leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, and for a moment, the intensity between you softens. His hands, once rough and demanding, now hold you gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid of breaking you. And in this moment, you realise just how deep his feelings for you run, how much he’s been holding back.

“You don’t have to make me jealous to get my attention,” he murmurs against your lips, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin. “You’ve had it from the start.”

You smile against his mouth, your hands sliding up to cup his face, pulling him into a deeper kiss. It’s softer now, slower, but no less intense. Because even though Theo might be possessive and a little rough around the edges, you know that this, you, means more to him than he’s ever let on.

“Let's go to my dorm, alright? Get you cleaned up,” he smiles, leading you out of the now very messy broom cupboard. To your surprise, Anthony is waiting for you a few metres up; Theo moves your body to the other side of him so that it is Theo that is closest to him. When you both walk straight past him he casually says, “Don’t worry about that piece of shit, Ravenclaw, I’ll fix him up tomorrow.” You wondered if that should worry you, not a problem for right now though, your mind still racing with lust and love. 

The next morning, you wake up with a warm, almost surreal feeling in your chest. Everything feels different, like the air’s lighter, the world softer, and it’s all because of him. Theo. Yesterday's intensity, the way his hands gripped you like he’d never let go, still lingers on your skin like a secret that only the two of you share. You stretch out on your bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the memories replay in your head. You can’t help but smile as your body remembers the feeling.

But then, of course, reality hits you in the form of Pansy bloody Parkinson.

She barges into the dorm room with all the subtlety of a troll, her arms full of bags from her morning Hogsmeade run. Merlin, that girl has a shopping addiction. "Good morning, sunshine," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she drops the bags onto her bed. "You’re glowing. What did you do? Save a baby unicorn?"

You roll your eyes, pulling the covers up to your chin, trying to hide the ridiculous grin that’s threatening to spill across your face. But Pansy, being Pansy, is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out drama, and she narrows her eyes at you.

"Hold on," she says, pausing mid-unpacking, one perfectly manicured hand on her hip. "What is that look? That is not a ‘just got a full night’s sleep’ look. That is a someone rocked my world last night look."

You burst into laughter, but it’s the nerves that I’m hiding something kind of laugh, and Pansy’s eyes widen like she’s hit the jackpot.

"No fucking way." She abandons her bags completely, climbing onto your bed and sitting cross-legged before you. "Spill. Now."

You bite your lip, wondering how in Merlin's name you’re going to explain this without sounding completely insane. But then again, it’s Pansy. There’s no hiding anything from her, and part of you wants to tell her, to relive every second of it by saying it out loud. So, you do.

"It was Theo," you admit quietly, your heart racing as the words leave your mouth. "Yesterday. We… we hooked up."

Pansy’s jaw drops so hard you’re pretty sure you hear it hit the floor. "Theo? As in Theo Nott? The same Theo who’s been brooding over you for months and never made a move?"

You nod, feeling your face heat up under her gaze. "Yeah, that Theo."

For a moment, Pansy is entirely silent, just staring at you like she’s processing this monumental piece of information. Then, suddenly, she lets out a shriek so loud it probably wakes up half the castle.

"Holy shit!" she squeals, grabbing your hands and bouncing on the bed like an excited child. "I knew it! I fucking knew he had it bad for you! So? Was it amazing? Was he, like, all dominating and rough like I always imagined? Tell me everything!"

You laugh, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you think about last night—the way Theo touched you, the way he claimed you, like he’d been holding back for so long and finally couldn’t anymore.

"It was…" You pause, searching for the right word. "Intense. And, yeah, he was definitely possessive. He kept saying I was his."

Pansy squeals again, throwing herself back onto the bed dramatically. "I knew it! I knew that brooding, quiet thing was just a front. Ok, you’re my best friend you owe me the whole story, Don’t miss a detail."  as you explain step by step you watch her eyes widen and her smile grow

Before you can say anything else, there’s a knock on the door. Matteo and Blaise stroll in without waiting for an invitation, looking far too smug for your liking. Blaise immediately heads for Pansy’s bed, flopping down like he owns the place, while Matteo leans against the dresser, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"What’s with the giddy shrieks?" Blaise asks, raising an eyebrow. "You two plotting something evil this early in the morning? We haven’t even had breakfast yet"

Pansy rolls her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. We don’t need to plot evil. It just comes naturally."

Matteo snickers, but his eyes flick to you, narrowing slightly. "Wait a minute… what’s going on? Why does she look all… flustered?"

Before you can even think of a response, Pansy, being the absolute traitor that she is, jumps in with, "Oh, didn’t you hear? Our girl here finally got some action. With Theo."

Matteo and Blaise both freeze, staring at you in shock. For a split second, there’s dead silence, and then, like a synchronised team, they both throw their heads back and shout, "Finally!"

Your eyes widen as Blaise shakes his head in disbelief. "I was starting to think you two would just brood at each other for the rest of eternity."

Matteo crosses the room, sitting on the edge of your bed and giving you a playful shove. "Took you long enough."

You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Can everyone just stop? This is mortifying."

"Mortifying?" Matteo laughs. "No, what’s mortifying is how long you two have been dancing around each other. Honestly, I’m just relieved one of you finally made a move."

Blaise leans back against Pansy’s bed, smirking. "Yeah, we’ve been placing bets on when it would happen. Matteo won, by the way."

You look up, horrified. "You’ve been betting on us?"

"Of course we have," Pansy says, grinning. "It’s been, like, the slowest burn of the century."

You sigh, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. As much as they’re embarrassing you right now, there’s something comforting in the way your friends are reacting—like they’ve all been rooting for this to happen as much as you have.

Blaise stands, giving you a teasing salute. "Well, I’ll leave you to bask in your post-Theo high. Just… try not to kill each other, yeah?"

Matteo follows him out the door, tossing one last look over his shoulder. "Finally."

Once they’re gone, you collapse back onto the bed, shaking your head. "I can’t believe them."

Pansy grins, lying next to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can. We’ve been watching this unfold for ages. I’m so happy for you."

“Thank you Pans”, you smile, turning as you lay closer next to her 

“Oh! I heard the most unusual thing this morning. Draco told me,” she starts 

“Go on” you giggle 

“That Anthony Goldstein practically crawled to the hospital wing this morning, black eye, bloody shirt, it seemed pretty ruff” she continued “wait, weren't you sitting by him just yesterday?” you remembered. 

Oh, Theo, he did indeed ‘take care of it’.

[lovebugism]

steve request for adjusting back to normality with him after the upside down ends? however much u wanna write 🤭🤍🤍 ur writing is gorgeous btw

ty angel! hope you like it!! — steve helps his agoraphobic gf leave the house for the first time since the world ended (established relationship, hurt/comfort, cw for mentions of agoraphobia | 1.5k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

You sit on the stairwell and tie your shoes, trying desperately to ignore the trembling of your anxious fingers. The thin laces threaten to slip from your tremoring hands as you knot one loop into the other. You couldn’t hide from your worry if you tried.

Steve’s heavy footsteps sound behind you in a steady, even rhythm as he walks down the stairs. You can hear the dull clapping of the boy patting his pockets to ensure his keys and wallet haven’t yet fallen from them. You know he’ll do exactly that another ten times before you step foot out of the house. He’s just as anxious as you are these days.

“Almost ready?” he says, huffing, though a smile is evident in his voice.

You nod to yourself and make careful work of fastening the laces. “Mhm,” you hum.

“Did you make sure to pack those Ants on a Log things? ‘Cause Dustin’ll kill me if we don’t bring ‘em,” Steve frets, for the second or third time that morning. He stills on the step just behind you and crosses a pair of golden arms over his chest. “Because, you know, he’s the only kid in America who actually likes celery.”

You tilt your chin to look up at him, smiling despite the fear pinching your chest. “Everything’s in the basket, Stevie.”

“Including the—”

“Yes, including the drinks. And the sandwiches. It’s all in the fridge,” you finish for him. “And the blanket’s in the car, so… Everything’s ready.”

Steve’s chest deflates with a distant sigh of relief. He’s been so used to doing everything on his own — carrying the load of that burden entirely by himself — that he forgot what it meant to have someone else to lean on.

“God, I’m so in love with you,” he murmurs fondly, mostly to himself, as he bends at the waist to kiss your hair. The plush of his lips brush your temple in a warm touch you lean instinctively into. 

With a wide hand on your shoulder, Steve feels for the first time how tense you are. All rigid, muscles taut, like cradling a rock in his palm. You’ve kept a brave face for him all day, but there’s only so much hiding you can do.

“You’re still okay with this?” he wonders aloud as he stands to full height again. 

His scruffy face is all twisted with concern, but you’re not looking at him to see it. You tie your right sneaker with a pair of graceless hands, where you seem to hold most of your anxiety, and scoff at the silly question. “Am I okay with the… picnic?” you echo.

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, lips jutted, as he walks past you down the steps. He turns and leans against the railing, trying hard to be casual. “‘Cause, you know, if you weren’t, we could just have it in the backyard or something. Make all the little shits come here.”

It takes you a moment too long to catch his meaning.

Sometimes you forget that you haven’t left the house all year. You’ve fallen into such a routine here, at Steve’s house (which you’ve come to see as your own), that you’ve forgotten there’s a whole world outside of it. A whole world you shut yourself out of after it nearly ended — after it chewed you up and spat you out again.

You tell yourself that you survived. You tell yourself that you lived in spite of the unfavorable odds. But sometimes, when you feel like shards of flesh and bones instead of a real-life human being, you wonder if you’re alive at all.

“I’m good, Steve,” you assure despite the waver in your voice. Your hands fumble with the laces, and you have to start all over again. “It’s just the park, babe. I can make it to the park.”

Steve nods in response, raking an anxious hand through his hair. He swallows down any attempts to remind you that you’ve barely made it out of the garage, let alone to the park.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure it’s a crime to be this pale in the middle of July, anyway,” you joke with a forced laugh. 

The only time you really see the sun is when you’re sitting out on the patio — sipping at your morning coffee or watching Steve languish in the pool. You hardly last more than an hour, though, before a plane rumbles overhead or a car engine thunders too loudly. That’s all it takes for everything to come rushing back to you. The monsters, the soldiers, the blood. Then you lock yourself away all over again.

You hope this time is different.

Steve nods again, always hopeful, if only for your sake.

“Okay. Just… Just making sure, you know?” he trails off, then scrunches his nose. “Should we have a codeword, anyway? Like, for when the kids annoy the shit outta me, and I wanna get the hell outta there?”

You squint to yourself, pretending to ponder the question, as you rise from the stairs. You take a few steps downward until you’re standing just ahead of Steve — a few inches taller than him now. 

“How about… Get me the hell outta here?” you offer with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

A wide, pink grin blossoms on his mouth. “That’s perfect, actually,” Steve muses sarcastically, then meets you halfway when you lean down to kiss him. 

It’s a chaste and very innocuous peck that tastes faintly of Steve’s mouthwash and the peanut butter you licked from the spoon after making Dustin’s Ants on a Log. 

Despite its fleeting nature, you hang onto the simple kiss your entire way through the front door.

The first step out of the house is the hardest. 

You struggle to feel the ground beneath your feet as your mind threatens to wander. Thoughts of death plague your mind despite your attempts to push them away — roaring demogorgons, exploding guns, screaming teenagers. You have to fight the urge to cover your ears when a helicopter whizzes overhead, hidden somewhere in the clouds but sounding much closer than that.  

Steve holds your hand the entire way. “Almost there,” you hear him mumbling beneath the heartbeat woosh, woosh, wooshing in your ears. Your eyes squeeze shut. He leads you to the car and squeezes your hand. “You’re doing amazin’, babe. Just a couple more steps.”

You’re at the car in five seconds flat, though it had felt like five minutes at the time — and took approximately five years off your life. You feel eons better when you’re tucked into the passenger seat of Steve’s 733i. You feel more grounded there — with the tires against the asphalt, and Steve’s hand on your thigh, and the radio cranked all the way up.

You’re still a shaking mess when you get to the park, but the kids are a good enough distraction. 

You opt to busy your anxious hands with the picnic — handing out food, protecting drinks, and ensuring the emptying basket doesn’t blow away. You sit in the shade in the center of Steve’s quilt as leaves rustle in the warm breeze, allowing bits of summer sun to peek through and glitter on your skin. 

You keep a watchful eye on the kids around you as they scatter mindlessly about, making sure no one ventures far enough where you can’t see them. Steve yells at them for it so you don’t have to — shouts at Max and El for getting too close to the tree line while he tosses a ball to Lucas. 

He’s slowly mastering the art of throwing with his left hand. He hasn’t been able to lift his right one over his head since Starcourt. There’s a persistent ache in his shoulder he hasn’t been able to get rid of.

He walks over to you when the distance grows too much to bear, twisting his arm with a screwed-up face as he tries to find the root of the pain. “Whaddaya got for me, sweet thing?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

You reach into the basket beside you and pull out the last sandwich of the bunch, which you kept aside especially for him, wrapped neatly in plastic.

You hiss playfully through your teeth, then squint faux apologetically up at him. “All that’s left is tomato-avocado…” you joke, feigning horror.

Steve’s face twists. “Ugh. Seriously?” he huffs in disappointment.

“No,” you hum in response, smiling as you pass him his favorite sandwich. “Here you go.”

It’s a simple turkey, ham, and bacon number with all the fixings, but he particularly likes how you make it. (You argue that it can’t taste any better than a diner-made sandwich, but Steve always insists otherwise.) 

Your fingers brush when it takes it from you. Steve finds it difficult not to melt for you entirely, and not just because of the sweltering summer heat. 

He’s spent half of his life believing that no one ever gave him a passing thought — or that, at the very least, he was only ever an afterthought. But you remind him every day that he’s so much more than the nothing he often sees himself as. You remind him, through silly picnics and sandwiches made with love, what it means to be truly cared for.

“I love you,” Steve hums quietly, adoration melting in his honey eyes. “You know that?”

You nod once, hiding a smile as you squint one eye from the beaming sun. “I know.”

[timmydraker]

CW: Implied SA, P3dophillia, (dubcon) sexual content

Jason hates galas the most out of his siblings.

Coming from his Crime Alley background and his death, it’s always uncomfortable with the subtle grimaces and obnoxious remarks.

The only reason he goes is because if he doesn’t Bruce won’t give him any allowance even though he’s twenty three, but it’s hard being a crime lord so he’ll take the money.

As usual, he sneaks off after a solid hour. He gives Dick a nod to let him know he’s leaving just so his older brother won’t freak out upon not being able to find him, and makes his way down the hall of the building he’s in to find the elevator.

Unfortunately it’s one of those stupid rich people ones where the elevator looks like a normal door so he has to look for the buttons, which leads him to get turned around a few times until he hears something interesting.

The sounds of obvious sex, cringy and almost fake sounding, makes the asexual in him gag but the crime lord curious.

A few times now he’s blackmailed rich folk with evidence of them cheating so if he can get someone else to give him some pocket money, he won’t need to come to the next gala…

As Jason carefully gets closer o the door, pulling out his phone, he can really tell that one voice is way too high and practiced. Fake, like those pornos his men watch too loud in their communal lounges for some bloody reason.

Apart of him is giddy at possibly finding some random richy guy being a shit fuck, if only because he finds the whole thing funny.

He opens the door slowly, making sure not a sound is heard from it, before peaking in to see what the situation is.

The first thing he sees is a guy who can’t be younger than fifty jerking his hips rapidly and huffing like a puffed Chihuahua, pathetic and kind of concerning. He’s on a couch angled so Jason can’t see his face, but the greying hair tells him everything.

It makes him have to hold back a snort but then his eyes trail over to the person underneath him.

Unlike the older man, the person is young and clearly not enjoying himself.

Jason only has a moment to realise this is probably a closeted gay man when his brain catches up and he realises who the other person is.

He only had a second to be disgusted because oh ew, gross gross gross, that’s his baby brother before shit that’s his baby brother.

Tim is the one making those performing noises.

Tim is the one being pressed down by a guy three times his age.

Tim is the one who’s making noises like he’s enjoying himself but is looking off to the side with a mostly blank face.

Tim, who’s only been eighteen for two months, is the one being used by some crusty old fuck and is seemingly pretending to enjoy it.

Jason wants to rush in and start attacking, to rip the guy off his brother and maybe punch his face into mush, but then he meets Tim’s eye and he feels his heart break.

Because Tim looks so ashamed, so disgusted with himself as he spots Jason and looks away with clear guilt in his eyes. He looks like he wants to crawl aaay and hide forever and Jason gets that because duh, his older brother just caught him having sex, but something about the situation just doesn’t feel right.

Jason thinks he should leave and give Tim some kind of talk later but then the older geezer on top of him speaks, “Fuck, Tim, you-god you’re so fucking tight, so perfect, such a good little bitch! Missed you little hole for months-“

The growl Jason lets out isn’t entirely human, something unholy that probably came from the pit, as he throws the door open and barges into the room.

Tim shakes his head as if to tell him to stop, but Jason is quicker.

He’s also quicker than the man who, ones his rips him off his little brother before he even process the door opening, he realises is a senator. He throws the man down, kicks his stomach in three times before driving a boot to his head.

Wordlessly he turns to his brother who is tearily pulling his dress pants and struggling to hold back sobs.

Jason holds out his hands in offer of a hug and is relieved when his brother accepts, because it means that physical touch hasn’t been ruined for him completely.

After just a few moments he mutters a warning to his brother that he’s going to pick him up and takes him out of the room with a last kick the man’s head.

He probably won’t die, but the brain trauma will be enough for Jason.

For now at least.

Jason holds his baby brother close to him as he takes him down to his car, finally finding the elevator with Tim’s silent help, and takes him back to his apartment.

On the way he sends a message to the demon brat, simply saying:

Don’t let anyone look for or bother me and Tim and I’ll buy you a snake.

[2kiran]

THREEKVENT NAVIGATION

sub bruce wayne soft dom gn reader handjob

Bruce Wayne leaned against the brick wall, his suit uncomfortably sticking to his skin with how badly he’s been sweating. Each movement caused his breath to hitch, the material grazing the cut on his side. Thankfully not deep, but it hurt like a bitch.

He reached over, unlocking the window. Bruce found himself returning late at night to your apartment after encounters with criminals, taking in more hits than normal for a proper excuse.

Fate happened. You were a kind stranger, he was injured, and he needed help. Eventually, it remained like that for a while. He’d be in one place, some sort of wound visible, and you’d take him in. His eyes had watched you like a hawk, grunting and squirming away from the slightest of advance on instinct.

Embarrassingly enough, he immediately melted into your gentle touch. You guided him, made him feel what it was like to be openly vulnerable with someone else present. It’s wrong. You’re a civilian, continuously helping Batman would put your life at risk.

He feels guilty about it. You’re too kind for him, never daring to stay close to him than is necessary and choosing to respect his personal space. It was welcomed at first, but he wants more of it, more of you.

The only time he’ll actually touch you is when the pain is incredibly overwhelming his senses, which has him catching your wrist accompanied by a restrained grunt. Like he’d been burned, he’d pull back once reality crashed back down. He can’t, he shouldn’t. He’s putting you in danger.

Damn it all to hell.

Bruce tripped, stumbled, landing right on your lap. How convenient, he thought. He held himself upright, clutching the top of the couch’s backrest in a death grip, eyes wide. Bruce frantically searched your face, analyzing your reaction. “I’m—” He’s cut off when you pull him closer, gasping in surprise.

“It’s okay.” You reassure him, a soft smile gracing your lips and he wants to kiss you senseless. Until you can’t feel your hands, your face, or use that smart brain.

He stays like that, straddling your hips as you clean the wound on his side. It’s taking everything in him for his thoughts not to drift towards sinful ideas, borderline unprofessional.

He can’t help it.

Every touch, even an accidental brush on his skin has his breath hitching, anticipation thrumming in his veins. Heat pools deep within him, leaving him aching. He hopes you don’t notice, pants tightening and he’s almost painfully hard.

You do. Of course, you do. Right when you finish patching him up, earning a few pained groans, you halt him from standing up and leaving. “Batman.”

Oh fuck. Bruce is doomed. He wants to sink into the floor, or maybe the wall would be better. You know how he truly feels about the situation, and this is the last time he’ll ever see you. Panic rises, but he doesn’t allow it to outwardly show. His palms suddenly become all clammy, sweat dotting his forehead—

“May I?” Damn you.

Your hand settled on his muscled thigh and he has to suppress a shiver. Your fingers inched closer to where he needed you the most, just a little bit higher. But then you stop. Bruce whines.

“Please,” Batman didn’t beg, never did. “Please, I-I need it.”

He panted, excitement delivering a spark of heat that rushed straight to his core. His arms surrounded your shoulders, trapping you in his hold as he leaned down to your neck to hide in shame. He assists you in pulling down his suit enough to expose his glistening cock, pre-cum oozing from his slit.

Bruce felt like a wreck, lips in a tight line to prevent any embarrassing sounds from leaving his throat. Your thumb swiped across the cockhead, pressing down with enough pressure to force out a choked gasp from him.

“Don’t hold back,” You whisper directly into his red-tinted ear. He felt his hole clench around nothing, your words making him light-headed and he involuntarily bucks his hips against your touch. “I’ve got you, c’mon. Let me hear you.”

His breath stutters when you begin to gently trace the angry veins, moaning softly as he pulsates in your grasp. It’s been too long since he’s had someone—anyone—to touch him intimately, but never like you are now.

Your fingers wrap around his cock, slicking up your palm. It’s a slow pace, guiding him to a gradual orgasm. Gods, fuck, why were you being like this? He’s uncertain whether he enjoys how you’re treating him as though he’s made of glass that could shatter any unforgiving moment or if he should beg for you to fuck him rougher, make him go all dumb and drunk off the feeling of you.

He desperately ruts against you, it was selfish but the both of you knew he needed it. “Mmm.. fuck, I–” He gasps when you jerk him off a bit quicker, coming up to tease the underside of his tip every single time. Throbbing at the increased pace, he felt his eyes roll back into his skull. “more, ah ah mngh, more please.”

Bruce knew his manners, with his skin absolutely flushed and mind consumed with lust and greed to taste and take. “Yeah? Keep talking for me.” You urged, twisting your wrist as his pre-cum lathed up your hand, producing so much he seems like he’s right there. “Feels so g–good.” He whimpers, thighs trembling as his knees were beginning to fail on him.

Your too-good praise didn’t help him, at all. He felt young all over again, horny and wanting. “Beautiful,” you whisper, “need me to help you, don’t you, B?” The air gets knocked out of him, leaving him panting. He can barely feel his brain, all sensations leading to your hand pumping his wet cock.

“Need you,” He didn’t care how pathetic he seemed in this state, all he knew how desperate he was for you with your slick palm teasing his tip, rubbing in little quick circles. “ngh, so bad...”

Bruce Wayne knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this, but he wants you to stay with him. He could protect and provide for you. Who else would you want to be with besides him? That’s right. No one.

[jester-lover]

Hi! How are you doing?

May I please request fem!reader having a 'Cinderella fairytale moment' with the first years?

You know like NRC is hosting a ball and they're waiting for her and then she enters wearing a ballgown and all eyes are on her because she looks so beautiful? If that's alright?

Magic Moment

W/ the First Years! + PLATONIC! Trein (I had to for this ask)

I’m doing wonderfully, thank you for asking! This ask is super cute and I’d happily answer more like it!

CW/ Fem! Reader, fluff, shyness, nervousness, average Sebek behavior (he’s my favorite), MR. TREIN BEING A BETTER ADOPTIVE FATHER THAN CROWLEY, I tried to leave the dress details vague, but the general ballgown shape is mentioned

The bustling sounds of the Ball were ringing through your ears as you slowly walked through the hall into the ballroom, your wide ball flowing behind you. Grim had already shot past and went straight for the buffet, which was expected but did nothing to stop your nervous mind.

Suddenly you felt a comforting presence beside you, and you turned around to see Professor Trein, wearing robes with a bit more formal flair.

"I can assure you that they won’t bite; those boys are rambunctious, but they have a certain level of decorum."

He had a rather comforting smile on his face, which you mirrored as a surge of confidence went through you.

"Thank you, Professor."

He nodded slightly as you turned on a heel, holding your head up higher with a small smile on your face.

The great doors opened with a small creek as you stepped onto the main staircase, the bustling crowd flitting throughout the ballroom as you stood at the helm of the stairs.

All eyes were on you, and the crowd seemed to shush a little as you glided down the stairs. The flowing dress made you seem like you were floating. As you stepped onto the main floor, the sensations hit slowly; the sweet smells of the chocolate fountain and the gentle viola and cello melodies set a soft mood.

However, all of the decadence was put to shame when you saw a familiar face waiting for you.

Ace

He had to cram himself through a crowd of eager boys, all wanting what he did, the first dance of the night with you

Ace’s usual smug grin feels a little shaky, just like his hands as they grasp onto yours

“You wouldn’t mind if we danced, would you?”

His voice is almost nervous as he takes in the sight of you, your beauty and how lucky he is to call himself yours

he guides you to the center of the ballroom, as the lights dim slightly and the music becomes romantically fast paced and delicate

His hands clasp at your waist gently as the two of you begin stepping in matching order

Your gorgeous dress flutters on the ballroom floor as Ace twirls you to the music

After the two of you danced till your legs were sore, you wander off by the gardens

“I feel like I’ve been a little quiet tonight, don’t get too used to it, okay?”

Ace’s usual quips become a little gentler, you can tell he really wants you to have a nice time, and also because he wants you to think well enough of him to spend more time together

He’ll take any chance he gets to prove himself to you

The night ends with a kiss on the cheek as his face turns redder than his hair

Deuce

Through the bustling ballroom, Deuce used all his track skills to get to you as fast as he could before someone else could woo you away

“P-please let me have a dance with you!”

You guide him to the dance floor as the music gets slow and soft, his hands still against your waist as his heart beats normally again

This sweet boy is trying desperately to remain respectful in front of a lady, especially one as special as you

as the two of you twirl through the night, his gaze never left yours, you felt yourself fall deeper in love with the boy in front of you

Deuce guides you off to get some light refreshments when the two of you seem tuckered out, and the two of you exchange pleasantries as the party dissipated

He walked you home after the Ball, dutifully watching for anything that could cause you harm until you stepped onto the Ramshackle grounds

You kiss him on the cheek and wish him farewell, as you walk back into your dorm to a chorus of cheering ghosts

"....A kiss...? Wow...."

Epel

Epel’s eyes met yours as fireworks seemingly erupt in his head

he rushed (undignified in Vil’s opinion) to you and softly grasped your gloved hand between two of his own

He presses a kiss to your glove as he confidently raises his voice

“Can I dance with you? I’ll be a good partner!”

(You swear you can see steam come out of Vil's ears at his abrupt question)

as Epel dances with you, he makes sure to keep the mood light and fun with a couple jokes and jabs at the professors expenses

his movements are quick as he guides the dance, but he makes sure to keep at a similar tempo to you so you don't look strange

the two of you are definitely the 'it couple' at the Ball, with your looks and attire

Epel gets bored of the attention quite quickly, and the two of you end the night somewhere quieter, like the calm balcony of the ballroom

he tells you stories of the perilous prep Vil and Rook made him do before the dancing, how hard it was to learn the old style of waltz they preferred

"It was horrible, but I guess it was all worth it, seeing how much fun you had and everything..."

The two of you part ways when Vil sweeps him away for pictures, but he promises to dance with you again when the chance arrives

Jack

His breath hitches in his throat as he sees you, his pace quick as he walks up to you with a mildly dazed expression

“Um, could I dance with you? If it’s alright with you of course…”

As the music softens, Jack becomes painfully aware of how soft and beautiful you are, and decides to treat you like a piece of glass

his hands hover, and his red face is tucked into your shoulder as the slow dancing begins

the closeness between the two of you is tender and kind, and he eventually loosens up a little as the pace of the cello gets steadily quicker

Jack's radiant smile as the two of you dance together is so perfectly domestic, you begin to ignore everything else

the two of you focus on only one another, and he loves hearing your soft laughter as he spins you in the air

since our wolf is one strong boy, he'll adore spinning and lifting you in your long luscious ballgown

"Hold on to my shoulders, I'll lift you up."

the night ends with him escorting you back to Ramshackle, his hand in yours as he grows more comfortable with physical affection

however, when you press a kiss to his cheek, Jack flusters again and rubs the back of his neck

"You look really beautiful tonight, and I had a really nice time dancing with you."

Sebek

A startled gasp catches in Sebek’s throat as Lilia pushes him to the front of the crowd and presents him to you

“Human! May I please have the honor of being your first dance partner tonight?”

the music is a lively tempo, Sebek looks straight ahead with perfect posture, dancing as if it means life or death

His serious demeanor is a little funny at first, but breaks pretty easily when he realizes how romantic the moment is

He calms down and acts more down to earth for the rest of the night, something that is truly a rare sight

His grip on your waist loosens a little bit as he hears the music slowly descend into a lower volume

Sebek sighs a little as he checks the time, knowing that the two of you have been dancing for hours

he strongly suggests that the two of you spend some time away from the commotion of the party (ironic coming from the loudest thing in the room)

You two spend an hour walking through the ornate halls of the ballroom, with him excitedly boasting about how the ballrooms in the Valley of Thorns far exceed the one you're in

"Perhaps, I may accompany you to the next big occasion..."

Sebek walks you back home slowly, trying to preserve some sweet time with you until you must part for the night

As you step onto the stairs to bid him farewell, you press a kiss onto his cheek, and he blushes a stark red; his mouth opens to speak but no words come out

for once in his life, Sebek is completely speechless.

☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾☁️☾

The cool night air that filters through the cracked windows of Ramshackle house serves to calm you down after a long night of dancing and socializing. You laid on the dusty couch, still clad in your oversized ballgown, sparkling in the dim candlelight.

Grim was asleep beside you, his warm fluffy fur pressed against your arm, and his gentle purring made your painted eyelids flutter with tiredness.

You thought back at the unforgettable night, dancing in his arms was a memory to cherish forever.

As you shook your arm to try and remove Grim, you realized he wouldn't budge, succumbing to your fate, you smiled and closed your eyes.

A wonderful ending to a wonderful night.

a.n/ Prof. Trein would be such a great father figure.

[bkgml]

meanie katsuki makes the reader jealous on purpose then she cries bc he thinks he doesnt love them anymore ☹️

katsuki messing up!

katsuki has never seen you get jealous. to him, anyone who looks your way is a threat. he wants you all to himself, it’s selfish he knows, but he just needs you so badly.

you never ever showing him you’re jealous annoys him to no end. do you even want him that bad? maybe you care less about him than he cares about you.

he takes his problem to kirishima. he’s the only one he trusts to talk about this.

“so? what do i do?” he asks.

“i don’t understand, you want her to be jealous?” kirishima questions.

“i guess. i just want her to show that she wants me.” katsuki frowns. he sounds so damn vulnerable right now.

“try and make her jealous then. see if she cares enough about you.”

“huh. how the fuck do i do that?” katsuki asks.

“anytime a girl comes up to you, flirting with you and stuff, flirt back a little. don’t tell them to fuck off like you normally do.”

“flirt back…”

“hey there, sexy.” a woman calls to katsuki in the street.

he’s used to this shit. people are always coming up to him in the street flirting with him. can’t they see you’re right there holding his hand?

‘flirt back’ he thinks.

“hey.” he smiles.

‘what the fuck? did he just flirt with her?’ you think to yourself. you’re used to seeing katsuki be flirted with, but to see him flirt back? how dare he?

you frown for a moment but quickly neutralize your face so he doesn’t see your jealousy, he’s never been disloyal you have no reason to nag him with jealousy.

things go on like this for weeks. someone will flirt with katsuki and he’ll blatantly flirt back. you’re growing upset. why is he doing this right in front of you?

eventually, you’re at your wits end.

you went to visit katsuki for lunch at his agency and he told his secretary to tell him you arrived while being discreet. he had a coworker in his office that’s always been flirty with him, touchy and blunt with suggestive remarks.

he decided to indulge her this time so you could walk in and see him flirting with her.

“hi, handsome. you wanted to see me?” she asked.

you arrived at his office and opened the door.

“uh huh. wanted to know why you were walking around with those tight ass pencil skirts.”

you stiffen.

“katsuki…?” you say, voice cracking.

“shit. why are you crying, pretty?” he stands and orders the woman out of his office.

he shuts the door and turns to you.

you look so small and fragile like this.

he cups your face but you back away shaking your head.

“are you cheating on me?” you say, tears finally falling.

“what? no. never.”

you look down, hands clenching into fists.

“then why have you been flirting with everyone? every single person who’s flirted with you in the past couple weeks you’ve flirted back. you’ve acted like i don’t even exist when someone else is there. i tried to let it go but now you’ve pushed me over the fucking edge katsuki!” you scream.

katsuki winces. he went way to far.

“it was a stupid fucking idea, baby. im so sorry, i pushed you too hard on this.” he defends.

you look up at him and glare.

“what idea?”

“i was talking to kirishima about how i’ve never seen you jealous and i was fucking insecure. i didn’t know if you wanted me because you always brush it off when other bitches flirt with me! he told me i should try to make you jealous!”

“you think it’s easy to brush it off? i was trying to not make you think i was clingy because i am so obviously out of your league! i thought you’d fucking leave me if i clung to you like this!” you’re pissed. he made you feel worthless because of some stupid idea?

“i wasn’t thinking. you’re out of my league, sweets. i messed up so fucking bad because i was insecure. can you forgive me? please? i don’t deserve it but i only have eyes for you and i always will.” he steps closer to you.

you think for a minute before sighing.

“i forgive you but i’m still fucking pissed. you’re going to be making this up to me for years.”

“promise. i’ll spend forever making this shit up to you.” he steps closer again.

“can i hold you now?” he pleads.

you laugh lightly and he smiles.

you raise your arms and katsuki rushes forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you.

he places kisses all over your face and neck before burying his face in your chest.

“i messed up.”

“yeah.” you smile.

he walks to his desk chair and sits with you in his lap.

he places a kiss to your lips.

“i’m an idiot.”

“yeah.”

he wipes your old tears off your face and kisses your temple.

“kirishimas an idiot too for giving me that advice.”

“yeah.”

you wrap your arms around his neck.

you kiss his nose.

“you’re perfect and no one else compares.”

“yeah.”

katsuki laughs and holds you tight to him. rubbing your back and weaving his fingers through your hair, breathing in your sweet perfume.

“wanna have lunch now?”

“yeah!”

[rashoumon-homo]

Pathetic!Dazai x GN!Reader

Content Warnings: sub!Dazai, dom!reader, no pronouns for reader, no anatomy described for reader, edging, bondage, aftercare

-> 700 words

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

You can’t think of a prettier sight than the one in front of you: Dazai, stark naked, shaking, and leaking precum on the bed, with his arms tied behind him in an intricate shibari knot. He’s fighting back tears, hips jerking forward with every throb of his aching cock.

“Please, I wanna cum,” he sobs, voice cracking. He doesn’t normally sound quite so blubbery, but edging will do that. “Please, please, please,” he babbles. “I’ll be a good boy, so good for you I promise… just wanna cum…”

You shift the weight of the vibrator in your hand ever so slightly, making him breathe in sharply. It’s just a basic bullet vibe; the one you normally use on yourself for solo play (thoroughly cleaned, of course), but for someone who’s never used one… it’s intense. It’s not even on right now, but Dazai is literally drooling at the way you teasingly turn it over in your hand.

How many times have you brought him right to the edge, only to pull away? Must have been 4 or 5 times tonight. You just couldn’t help yourself, he looks so adorably pathetic on his knees like that.

And you tell him so, carding his sweaty hair away from his face to kiss his temple. “Love it when you beg for me,” you whisper. His chest heaves with another sob when you pull away, the fabric of your shirt brushing against his sensitive cockhead.

“Swear you’ll be good for me?” you ask, thumb circling the power button.

His wrists and forearms burn from tugging on the ropes holding them back; legs shake from kneeling for so long under so much tension. He nods vehemently, straightening his spine.

You smile and switch on the vibe. “Good. I don’t want to have to use the ball gag on you. I love those cute sounds you make.”

Dazai’s been zoned in on the vibrator from the moment you turned it on, not a word of what you said reaching his ears. His pupils are dilated, drool already dripping down his chin.

He lets out an agonized cry as you press the vibe to the base of his cock. You run it up the shaft slowly, pressing so lightly it’s barely touching his skin. He’s shaking so much you have to hold his cock in place with your other hand. It jumps in your palm, beading another drop of precum.

Dazai whimpers, teeth gritted in an attempt to stay quiet. His cockhead is red and angry, but you tease ever closer to it.

“Look at you, just crying for it,” you murmur. You run the vibe up and down his shaft a few more times. “Think you can handle a bit more?”

Instead of a response, more moans fall from Dazai’s lips. His eyes are squeezed shut, brow furrowed enough he’ll probably have a headache later. “Please,” he whines.

“Gonna make a mess for me, pretty boy?” You pull his chin closer and whisper, “Gonna cum for me?” You slide the vibrator up until it’s nestled at his frenulum, just below his cockhead.

He doubles over as though he’s been kicked in the stomach, a sharp cry punched out of him as his cock pulses. There’s enough force behind the orgasm that his cum shoots onto you, dripping down your shirt in thick globs. It lasts longer than usual too; he writhes against the ropes around his arms as he rides through it for a good 30 seconds.

Finally, it lets up. His muscles seem to give as he sinks into you, breathing hard. “Fuck,” he says under his breath.

“Hold still for me,” you say softly, working to undo the knots binding him. This isn’t your first time, so you’re able to quickly release him from the ropes. You give him a quick kiss before reminding him to do some stretches. He complains, but does them anyway, stretching his sore arms and shoulders along with you.

“Feeling okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says, then makes a face. “My baby’s such a sadist, edging me for hours like that.”

You laugh and cuddle into him. “You know you love it. Now what movie do you wanna watch? I’ll order pizza.”

Back to Masterlist

[reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeko]

VDC movie night

what the VDC boys would chose to watch for movie night❤️

(can be seen as Romantic or Platonic)

{{Art by @moriko_twst on Twitter}}

Ace would probably pick a horror movie be so fr.

Like he’s talking such a big game about how he’s not gonna get scared and how Deuce and Yuu are scaredy cats.

Everyone is done with his bullshit but they let him pick.

The second the movie comes on he’s grabbing onto Yuu for dear life.

still talkin that “No I’m not scared, I ain’t scared of nothin!”

Que everyone being done with his bullshit x2.

Deuce isn’t even that scared of it!

“Ace it’s the Shinning, it’s not even scary like that-“

”OH MY GOD WHY ARE THERE TWINS-“

Rook finds it hilarious.

Ace ends up having to sleep in Deuce’s room that night cuz of how scared he was.

Deuce on the other hand, picks something sad.

like Baely, The Outsiders, Isle of Dogs, etc.

Like chat I’m telling you he’s putting on sad movies and crying, then calling him mom and saying ‘I love you’ to her after like come on.

Like he’s there, holding Grim in tears and everyone is there like ‘really?’

hard to believe he used to be a gangster sometimes😭

100% crying while everyone kinda looks at him like 😐.

he just has a lot of feelings man :(

Epel picks “manly” and action movies.

Like he’ll have fast and furious on and force you to sit and watch it.😭

AMERICAN NINJA WARRIOR NIGHTS AT RAMSHACKLE WITH JACK AND DEUCE GO CRAZY.

Vil looks genuinely upset with Epel’s choices but says nothing and begrudgingly watches.

Epel and Deuce yap the entire movie about cars and every time someone mentions changing the movie he gets upset.

”It’s mah turn to pick the movie! Buzz off!”

Vil is once again upset, free Epel😔.

he turns to Yuu and talks about the different cars and models used in the movies,

and how if HE were in the movie, you’d be so protected cause he’s a manly man and stuff.

He also really likes the Barbie movies just don’t say anything about it.

his favorite is the three musketeers and the Pegasus one.

Kalim loves Disney movies (ironic isn’t it)

He fucks so hard to Cinderella like don’t argue with me.

he enjoys a lot of different genres and Disney obviously isn’t the only one he watches.

He’d really enjoy older movies like the Sound of Music and Titanic.

But he 100% talks throughout them.

plus they’re super long, he’s not sitting there for all that.

he ends up getting distracted mid movie and drags Yuu to go bake cookies for The others with him.

Jamil is watching you two more than the movie. (pls free him)

speaking of Jamil, he’s watching Novelas.

DONT ARGUE WITH ME IM HARD OF HEARING FOR A REASON.

He can and WILL sit there, eyes on the screen, popcorn falling from his mouth.

hes watching ever single type.

kdramas, novelas, Indian serials, etc.

he gets so invested, and so does Kalim.

his head on on Yuu’s lap, them braiding his hair while he gasps in actual shock.

”It was his brother’s baby?! She cheated with his brother?!” -Jamil probably.

hes just stressed and the novelas help him relax, someone pls give him a massage he needs it.

Rook, my dear sweet stalker. Has horro movies on.

but the ones that romanticize the killers, yk?

like bro is sitting there, Jeffery Dahmer on screen, and yapping about how romantic it is.

Jkjk

but he definitely finds movies like The Hunger Games, Ender’s Game, and Maze Runner.

the thrill of the hunt my ass🙄

He really enjoys the Saw movies too,

he likes to try and undsrtdtand the reasoning and Drive behind what killers do.

which is why he likes horror movies so much.

He has Yuu in his arms, cuddled into him as he coos at their horrified face.

Vil finds it kinda nasty but he vibes 🤷🏽

Speaking of Vil, he normally puts on either movies he’s stared in, or movies that inspires him.

*Que a collection of groans from everyone except Kalim and Rook.*

He really wants Yuu to pay attention, he genuinely feels proud of himself in (a good sum) of the movies and wants them to carry that confidence too!

He’ll explain things they don’t understand, patient until they grasp the concept.

lets Yuu lean on him while they watch, he thinks it’s cute. ☺️

SKIN CARE AND FACE MASKS WHILE YOU WATCH DONT FIGHT ME

Has you in a face mask and doing skin care while Yuu watch.

His potato needs to look good in order to feel good after all.

[riiwrites]

bsd men taking care of a cat

“Hello! Can I req for some headcannons about how Akutagawa, Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma and Ada Dazai would react when their roommate brought home a stray cat? (They would be such cute cat dad's 😭)”

a/n : ofc u can! sorry for the long wait :(

fandom : bungo stray dogs

includes : sigma, dazai, chuuya, akutagawa, fyodor

all dividers i use belong to @/cafekitsune !!

masterlist | taglist | main page

SIGMA

• Sigma would just be minding his own business one day, doing something basic and essential like the laundry or cleaning while you were out shopping.

• He’d normally expect you to come in with a bag full of groceries and a big smile on your face, ready to tell him about what you had bought this time for him to try for dinner.

• What he didn’t expect however..was for you to not only do your basic chore of the day - but also bring in a fluffy little creature with its legs dangling as you hold it up in your arms.

• He’s a bit dazed for a second, eyes widening and his lips parted into a shocked 'o' shape as he tries to read what was going on in that head of yours.

• You both stand there for a few moments, the silence slowly turning awkward until you finally break it.

“Do you not like it?” You say with a pout. Sigma drops his washing cloth onto the table as he turns fully towards you.

“I mean..it’s a surprise.” He emphasises, a little chuckle escaping his lips at the end of his sentence. Your smile returns as you tilt your head to the safe, the little kitten coincidentally doing the same thing.

“Can we keep it, Sigma? Pleasepleasepleaseee..” You plead. He lets out a soft sigh at this, seeming unsure of what to do.

“Even if I had decided we could keep it, we don’t have the correct resources in order to properly care for it and we also don’t know what that poor things been through. It could carry all sorts of diseases!”

You gasp dramatically, cuddling the cat to your chest as you glare at your roommate from across the hall.

“Don’t say that to mittens..”

“You named it..?”

• After a while of your pouting and whining that lasted for about 10 minutes, he accepted the kitty with welcome arms.

• ..After it was given its shots and treatments.

• I believe Sigma is a fond cat lover when he gets used to having one around.

• He’ll bring it everywhere with him inside the house.

• He’d never let the cat outside unless it was in one of those cages..

• He’d get so worried if the cat were to leave home, even for a few hours!!

• He becomes so easily attached to the cat, it’s adorable.

“Y/N? Have you seen Mittens..?” Sigma appears at your side with a slightly worried expression, him fiddling with his fingers as he looks around anxiously.

You turn to him with a raised eyebrow, looking at his fidgety hands and then back at him. “I thought you had him with you?”

“I did..! I set him on your desk whilst I was working and the next minute I looked and then he vanished!”

He rakes his pale hands down his face, looking genuinely stressed for this little kitty you’ve both only had for a few weeks.

That was then, you heard the sound of a thud coming from upstairs. You both jump, Sigma having the worse effect of it since he was already on edge in the first place.

You both rush upstairs, Sigma behind you as you peak into your room ; nothing out of the ordinary, until Sigma taps your shoulder only for you to see Sigmas door a tad bit open as if someone had just slyly slipped through the crack.

You both peer into Sigmas room, only to be greeted with a sight that lights mostly Sigmas eyes up.

Mittens, splayed onto Sigmas king sized bed like a luxurious royal with a few knocked over picture frames that obviously had been caused by Mittens himself. But Sigma could only smile at the sight given the outcome that his- sorry, ‘our cat’ as he corrects, is safe.

“..I think you’ve grown an unhealthy attachment to this cat.” You say. Sigma only gives a mere shrug and a few embarrassed chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, not conforming nor denying that statement.

DAZAI

• I’m gonna be honest and say it - he’d be the one bringing the cat in..

• He’d see a homeless little kitty on the sidewalk and be like “Oh! you’re coming with me!”

• He’s like the classic stereotype of a cat lady who’s got thousands of cats living at her feet.

• So when he comes home with the white stray cat in his arms, you sigh.

“No.”

“What?! You haven’t even given me the chance to hear what I have to say!” He argues.

“I know what you’re going to say, Osamu, and it’s a no.”

“But..” He holds up the white fluff ball up to your face.

“He looks like Atsushi-kun..”

“…”

“Fine.”

“Yay!”

• At this point you believe the cat takes care of Dazai more than Dazai takes care of the cat.

• Brings the cat to work at the agency with him.

•Everyone loves the kitty, pouting and stroking his fur as he purrs. Everyone loves him! (Especially Kyokua and Kenji <33)

• Although Kunikida scolds him for it because of how the cat spilled coffee all over his files one time.

• He could only glare at the cat as he licks his paws and meows.

• “..I can always buy more..”

• Dazais definitely the type to play pranks on the cat

• Like, place cucumber next to it so the cat can absolutely shit itself and he’d post it everywhere cuz he thinks he’s funny (Chuuya dislikes every single one and calls it animal cruelty)

• The cat however, doesn’t find him funny.

• Ends up with scratches littered across his face and some down his neck by the time he’s out of his bedroom.

“What the hell..?”

“Don’t..ask..”

Which is why you’re now in this predicament, patching him up in your bedroom.

You place a plaster on his nose, patting it gently before sighing softly.

“You bully that cat too much..” You state.

“Nuh uh! He’s the one that brutally assaulted me, why are you taking his side?”

“Alright let’s not go say brutally here..” You huff out a laugh.

He sighs dramatically, before you both hear a freak coming from your door, noticing the cat pushing through the door and slowly making its way in. Dazai glares.

“No, oh no you don’t..” He gets up slowly, backing away.

“Oh my god stop acting like a child, sit the hell down!” You exclaim, grabbing his arm and dragging him to sit back down.

He huffs and sits down, crossing his arms and looking away.

“I have nothing to say to you!” He says to the cat.

“He doesn’t care.” You say monotone, rolling your eyes.

He glares only until the cat jumps on the bed, strutting over to Dazai and curling up in his lap, purring and nuzzling into him.

Silence fills the room only until it’s filled by Dazais sounds of high pitched noise and kissing sounds.

“Ooooh..I’m just so sorry! It was my fault wasn’t it..? Yes it was..It really was..”

You snort a laugh, chuckling as you smile at the sight, taking out your phone to take millions of pictures to send to the agency.

CHUUYA

• So we know he’s more of a dog person, but..

• Y’know the type of person to be so against the idea but then immediately love the animal like it’s their child?

• That’s him.

“Why are you giving me that face??” You ask with a pout.

“What is it with you and bringing goddamn fleabags back to our apartment?!”

You scoff at Chuuya’s complaint, rolling your eyes as you hold the definite disease filled cat to your chest.

“Don’t do that, you’ll get fucking ringworm!!”

“We don’t even know if he has it!”

“So it’s a he now?”

You nod instantly, seeming so sure. That’s when Chuuya sighs heavily, grabbing his car keys on the kitchen counter and swiftly brushing past you and to the door.

“Where are you going?” You ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“Where are we going ya mean..we’re getting that damn thing tested and you’re coming with.”

You smile, nodding, but then stop.

“..You’re not gonna put him down are you?”

He squints his eyes and gives you a dirty look, grabbing the door handle.

“The hell? I’m not a damn monster, come on..let’s go.”

• Turns out the cat didn’t have ringworm, the cat was just rather dirty and needed a wash up and a new home.

• Oh, and turns out she’s a girl!

“I could’ve sworn she was a boy..” You furrow your eyebrows, looking at the cat now resting peacefully in the cage Chuuya you had bought for it.

“I knew it was a girl.” Chuuya states matter a factly, keeping his eyes on the road. You give him a glare.

“Oh shut up, just because you want a dog.”

“Hey, I could buy a damn dog if I wanted to, but no, instead I have to put up with your ass bringing back unnecessary things like rats off the street!”

“It’s a cat..”

“Whatever.”

• Around a few weeks later, you come home and your nostrils are flooded with the mixed smell of tuna and cat food, your nose bunches up in disgust.

• You head towards the smell, the living room and your eyes widen in surprise at what you see.

• Chuuya, who was currently sitting on the floor pampering the cat, whilst she had the higher ground by sitting on a pillow which was placed on the glass table you both had recently purchased.

You stand there for a few moments, head tilting as you blink in surprise, then a little smile creeps up on your lips as you let out a snort.

Chuuya instantly turns to his side with an alarmed look, then seeing it was just you his expression softens and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that..” He says with an irritated tone as he looks back to the cat, now stroking her face with the back of his hand.

“I cannot believe I’m witnessing this right now..” You say to mostly yourself, covering your joyful expression with your hand to try and not irritate Chuuya even further, which of course fails due to your snickering.

“Get that stupid look off your face now.”

You roll your eyes playfully, rushing over to join him in pampering your cat.

“She’s grown on me.” He admits, a small smile placed on his face. You also smile, nudging him playfully.

“So you had to buy the entire pet store?” You ask, referring to the clearly high priced items he had purchased ranging from toys to beds and litter boxes.

“Shut your damn mouth..” He mutters, but you could’ve sworn you heard a chuckle escape past his lips just once.

AKUTAGAWA

• Akutagawa isn’t a cat person.

• Infact, he’s not an animal person.

• Not that he doesn’t like them, just that he’s rather..inexperienced when it comes to taking care of a cat.

• Like Sigmas reaction, he’d be confused and more irritated with the fact that the cat you chose had a resemblance to someone.

Akutagawa froze in place, looking at you with an expression of slight shock. There you stand, with a delicate little ball of fluff in your arms. You beckon for him to come closer with a smile on your face, he hesitates for a moment before approaching, hand covering his face but as he got up close, the neutral expression melts to one of annoyance and exasperation.

“Must you have picked that one out of all of them..?” He questions, his arms crossed with a look of disgust placed on his face.

You smirk, holding up the bicoloured kitty in your arms and shoving it in Akutagawas face, with which he instantly turns the other way. You laugh.

“..You did this on purpose didn’t you..?” He questions again. You could only snicker as he lets out an exasperated sigh.

• At first, he lets you handle the kitty, almost like he’s afraid to touch it.

• Stands atleast a few feet away from you whenever it’s with you.

“Are you..allergic..?”

*cough cough* “Yes.”

• He infact, was not.

• However, you don’t let him escape this easily.

• One day, you decide to leave the kitten on his bed whilst he was still sleeping as you leave in the early hours to run your own “errands”.

• It’s safe to say, he wakes up with a fright.

• He let’s out an annoyed groan as he reads the note on his desk.

• “Spend some time with your son! Have to run errands, buhbye~ (￣▽￣)”

• He calls you.

“Hello?”

“You idiot, why would you do this?!” He exclaims.

“Uhh, why would I as a decent human being have to go run errands and keep our home life cozy?” You ‘cluelessly’ ask, biting back a smirk although he can hear it evidently in your voice through the phone.

“No because I know you don’t have any plans to run any ‘errands’ any time soon, what do you take me for some damn fool..?”

“Oh lighten up, Ryū! You never know, it might be fun!” You reassure him, pausing for a moment.

“..But seriously, I really do need you to spend time with him because I read somewhere cats can become depressed if you neglect them for so long, do you want our cat to be depressed, Ryū?!”

“…”

“Don’t answer that..just- haveagood time okaybyeee!!”

“Wait- Y/N!!”

• He ends up awkwardly staring at the cat for a while, before actually getting up and putting in atleast some effort.

• He has to google ‘How to take care of cats’ on your computer and even going out to the library to try and find some books on them.

• A few hours later you stand outside the front door, taking a deep breath as to prepare yourself for the wrath you’re about to receive when you walk through that door.

• But instead, you hear a cough from behind you and a quiet voice speaking.

“Ah, Y/N, you’re home.”

You turn around and your eyes widen.

Akutagawa, had the kitty attached to a leash. You stare, absolutely dumbfounded and shocked. Akutagawa looks at you with a confused expression.

“..Why are you looking at me like that..?”

You shake your head as you put your fingers on each side of your temple, rubbing furiously.

“Okay okay, pause..what are you doing with our cat?” You ask. He looks at you and blinks before responding, looking down at the kitten.

“Oh, well..I read that some animals, especially cats prefer to be outdoors than indoors, so I bought a leash and took him for a walk.”

You stare at him, trying to process his words.

“You..took the cat..for a walk..?”

“..Yes.”

“The cat..for a walk.” You say again, trying to get it through his head.

“..Yes.”

There’s a ring of silence for a few moments, before Akutagawa breaks it.

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“Cats are more preferred to go out on their own, not tied to a leash.” You explain.

“..Oh..is that why some people were given me strange looks whilst I was walking doing the street with him?” He asks.

“I suppose.”

He looks down at the cat, nodding slowly.

“Just..” You start, opening the door for you guys with a slight smile. “Come in, I’ll help you with untying him.”

He nods again, picking up the kitten gently and you notice that’s the first time you’ve ever witnessed him getting as close to touching him. Your smile grows.

He brushes past you as you open the door for him, he stops just as he enters and turns to you, hesitating to ask something, but then he does.

“Did I..do good..?”

Your smile grows once more, before carefully placing your hand on his head, which he flinches slightly, but doesn’t stop you.

“You did great, Ryu.”

FYODOR

• Fyodors not too fussed on having a pet.

• Although he believes some could be a distraction to his work and plans, he wouldn’t mind them all much.

• But, would probably not pay much attention to them..

• That is until, you put one in his lap.

“My my..” He starts, looking up at you and looking down at the little black cat placed on his lap, now pawing at his desk. “What have we here?”

“A gift, and one more problem for you to deal with!” You say with such happiness in your tone of voice, he had almost chuckled.

“Funny, truly.” He says with a slight smile. “But I won’t be putting up with such.”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Huh?”

“I won’t care for it.” He says, referring to the cat. You gasp, furrowing your eyebrows as you glare.

“You’re joking?”

“Have I ever?”

You cross your arms, scoffing at him.

“I bought this just for you, you know? How ungrateful!”

“But, I didn’t ask you to buy this for me, did I?” He says with a smirk, your expression was baffled as you scoff again, slapping your hand over your heart.

“I’m hurt you know.”

He looks at you once more before turning back to his work, ignoring the cat who was still trying to paw at his desk.

You had a sour look on your face all day until the same night as you were walking to your room, you couldn’t help but hear a jingle of bells coming from Fyodors room? Curiosity grew in your bones as you slowly approached his room, peeking through the crack of the door.

There he was, jingling a little bell in-front of the same cat he had ‘claimed’ he was going to ignore with a slight smile on his face, actually seemingly enjoying the cats company as it leaps up with its paws to try and catch the bell.

You couldn’t help but pout as your heart melts at the scene, scrambling in your pocket to find your phone to capture this moment.

However, curiosity did infact kill the cat (you) when you open the photo app and look up, you notice Fyodor gone, and not only that, but he was now behind the door, poking his head around and looking down at your phone.

You jolt up, throwing your phone and covering your mouth with your hand, he smirks. You only glare.

• Soon after that, you had your phone privileges revoked and kept from by Fyodor.

• And surprisingly enough, pays attention to the cat more than you now.

• Always jingling some sort of key or bell infront of its face

• Always having it on his lap.

• At this point you believe he’s just doing it to annoy you.

• But in all honesty, you found it sweet.

• Fyodor had bought the cat an outfit, one that matched his, the hat and all.

“Y/N, come have a look at this.” He says, hand motioning you to come forward. You nod, standing up from your place on the couch and approaching him. You think he’s just going to show you his layout for his current scheme, but no.

It’s the black cat hearing a little shrunken sized version of Fyodors hat and coat and you melt once again.

“Ooohhh..Fyodor you have to give me my phone back so I can take photos please!!”

“Fine.” He says almost instantly, which you find odd at first but quickly brush it off.

You open your phone and open your camera and take lots of photos of the kitty, then going on the photos and scrolling through them until you see some you had never taken before..Fyodor had taken them. You smirk.

“So much for not caring for it huh?”

He merely shrugs, typing on his computer.

“He’s my new sidekick, you’ve been replaced.”

You furrow your eyebrows as you kick his leg.

“I pay the bills, stupid.” You retort, glaring.

“I cook, ‘stupid’” Fyodor shoots back.

The only noise that can be heard is his typing on his computer and you snarl, looking him up and down with daggers as the kitten meows, nuzzling it’s cheek against Fyodors cold hand.

“Yes, i know malen'kiy kotenok (little kitty), they are rather annoying are they not?” He says to the cat, you narrow your eyes.

“Ew.”

-

@/riiwrites - reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤︎︎

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader Valentines Special

A/N: This is set a few months ahead of the actually story. I hope you all like this and Happy Valentines!

Today was Valentine's Day and Playcare did not slack with the decorations. I should’ve known since for Christmas they didn’t hold back on the decorations either. I laughed thinking back to that day. DogDay was so excited to give me his present. I looked down at my wrist and admired the handmade 'friendship' bracelet that he gave me. On the bracelet was his name and on his was my name; well actually it said 'Angel' which is my name for him so yeah, haha. I gave him a handmade bandana. He hasn’t taken it off since then. Well unless he needs to get cleaned then he’ll take it off but other than that nope.  

--------------- 

As I exited the cable car there was a lot, and I mean a lot of hearts scattered around the place. There was some on the lamp post, on the floor, everywhere! I noticed that around the statues of the Smiling Critters were streamers with hearts. There also seemed to be string hanging down from each of their hands, er, paws..feathers..whatever. It seemed like there was supposed to be something attached at the bottom for each of them but there wasn’t. I’d have to ask someone what it’s for.  

--------------- 

The counselor's office was decked out with streamers, candy, balloons the whole fixings. I set my stuff down in the lounge for us helpers and took out some Valentine Day cards that I made for the kids that were normally assigned to me and DogDay. As I was heading out, I spotted Sarah, Catnaps helper and asked her if she knew what the strings were for on the statues. “Hm? Oh, so like at the end of the day all the Smiling Critters are gonna go in the playhouse and us helpers must write some sappy crap for them on this big heart and attach it to the string. We do it allll the tiiiime. Oh, and like when we’re doing that, they’re in the playhouse doing the exact same thing. It’s dumb.” It didn’t sound dumb to me; it seemed sweet. I haven't been here as long as the other helpers, but I was looking forward to this. I thanked Sarah and made my way to the school. 

--------------- 

It looked like Cupid himself threw up everywhere. Along the walls there were hearts with the children’s names. I recognized a few of the names: Miley, Jason, Henry, Todd, and Damian. Damian was a good kid. To be honest, I’ve grown attached to all the kids. I know the day will come when they’ll get adopted, that’ll be the last I see of them. I shook my head and walked over to the art room. On my sheet for today it said that I’ll be stationed here along with DogDay.  

As I was approaching the art room, I saw Craftycorn along with DogDay through the glass. Craftycorn was short enough to not need to hunch over, unlike DogDay. I opened the door and was immediately greeted by the kids. “Angel!” I laughed as I shut the door. DogDay chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. Craftycorn waved hello and DogDay picked me up and hugged me like always. “Hiya Angel, we were just talking about you!” As he put me down, I got a good look at his face. He had a heart painted over his little brown patch. Cute. “Oh? And what were you all saying about me?” I set the bag of cards that I had on a table. “We said that we like having you around and that we hoped you brought us our gifts.” Damian spoke out. He had hearts painted on his cheeks. “I like being around you all as well and yes, I have your gifts.” I reached for the bag and started to hand out each of the handmade cards to the children that were assigned to me.  

The kids from Craftycorn looked sad that her helper didn’t get them anything, luckily, I had extra to give out. “Look at you Angel, so thoughtful.” DogDay spoke out. “I made some cards for you guys as well but there put away in the counselor's office.” DogDay wagged his tail while hearing this. “Oh, wow Angel, you shouldn’t have.” I knew DogDay was just saying that playfully. Damien told me yesterday that DogDay was hoping for a card from me. “Now, let’s get you all dolled up like me Angel.” DogDay then grabbed me and set me down on a chair in front of him. I came to about his chest when he was sitting like an actual dog would. Craftycorn then walked over to me holding a paint brush with red at the end. I smiled and closed my eyes as she also painted a heart over my eye.  

--------------- 

My shift was ending soon which meant that it was time to attach a heart to the strings on the statues. I walked around and placed the cards that I made for each Smiling Critter into a little basket on the floor right below the string. After I placed all the cards I walked to right in front of Dogdays' statue and attached the giant heart onto the string. “I hope he likes it.” I said to no one in particular.  

Soon a bell rang, and all the Smiling Critters came outside of the playhouse. I spotted DogDay and waved hello and he immediately waved hello back. All of them soon then stood right in front of their helpers and in unison said “Happy Valentines” while handing us a gift bag. “Happy Valentines Day Angel, I hope you like your gift.” I looked up and smiled. “Happy Valentines Day DogDay, I also hope you like your gift.” “I’d be happy with anything Angel; heck you can even give me a rock and I’ll be happy with just that!” He’s so silly. “Well sorry to disappoint but I did not get you a rock.”  

I moved out of his way so he could see his letter on the heart. While he read my letter, I opened my gift bag. Inside was a picture of me and DogDay. He was holding me in his arms, and we were both showing off our painted faces. The picture frame was covered in little hearts and dog bones. I turned the picture around and saw a note attached. Before I could read it DogDay snatched me up and buried me into his soft, fluffy chest. “Thank you Angel! This letter means the world to me. I promise I’ll cherish it forever and ever!” I laughed at his reaction. Dogday then held me up to his face and moved me closer. His nose booped my nose. “I love you, Angel.” “I love you too, DogDay.”  

[sunderingstars]

zayne x reader + expressing his emotions/feelings via his and reader's heartbeat? Since he's not *just* her doctor...🪐

♡ heartbeat (zayne x reader) ♡

what the stars reveal: no gender signifiers for reader, (but can be assumed fem based off the game’s mc), slight allusions to lore, poetic prose taken directly from my brain at 3am

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ thank you for the suggestion, anon !! i feel like this ask was made just for me because i use zayne’s heartbeats as a way to de-stress every day LOL. i got a little bit carried away so i hope more than a few paragraphs is fine :3

It had started as a joke. Some silly, off-the-cuff banter you didn’t even remember starting, much less continuing until the two of you sat face-to-face on the couch in his office. It didn’t really matter, in your mind, how it happened. All that mattered was the thrumming; the steady rhythm of a heart, his heart, resting warm and stable under layers of skin and fabric.

It didn’t occur to you to be embarrassed. Not when you could feel it against your fingertips, burning through the outer layers of Zayne’s frost-tipped skin, coming to rest against you like a flower, like some sort of fragile thing with petals of ice. If you could, you wished to hold it in your hands, softly, tenderly, in the vain hope it would never crack. A prayer, perhaps, to a god you couldn’t remember.

“What is your verdict, doctor?” the teasing lilt of the last word brought you back to yourself, to the man in front of you. Zayne looked at you, eyes sparkling in amusement.

You coughed lightly. “It’s… uh… normal.” You didn’t remove your hand. “But kind of weird.”

Zayne’s heart stuttered along with his chuckle. “Weird?”

“Yes, weird,” you repeated, letting the lull of his heart diffuse from your fingertips to your chest. “I feel like I’m going to fall asleep.”

A beat of silence. “Go ahead, then.”

You blinked. Part of you thought you must’ve heard wrong — perhaps his heartbeat was laced with some sort of hallucinogen — but when you looked back to him, to the soft upturn at the corners of his mouth, you realized he was serious.

“What?” you asked. “Just like that?”

Zayne raised his eyebrows. “Why not? Leading research suggests that eight to ten hours of sleep is best for optimal performance. And someone I know is falling behind in that regard.”

You considered it, humming. Then you leaned forward until the side of your head replaced your hand on his chest. From here, you could hear the tempo picking up pace directly in your ear.

“It’s even weirder now,” you said.

“Is it?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe it likes you.”

You smiled against his chest. “Maybe I like it, too. Maybe, even, I want to give it a big kiss on t—”

“Go to sleep.” His tone was faux-stern, the way he sounded when he wasn’t fully committed to deflecting something. You could have kept prying, you knew, just to see how far the heart metaphor would go, but you decided to give his actual heart a break.

“Fine,” you said. “But I hope it knows it belongs to a great doctor.”

Another stutter against your ear. “I’ll be sure to pass on the message.”

Content, you settle against him, not caring that you’re still half-sitting. It’s easy, then, to listen. To wash away. To hear the sounds of rising, falling, cresting like snowcapped mountains and falling stars, and feel as though you’re a falling star yourself, hopeless.

“I wonder if it loves me,” you murmur, half-conscious, half-hopeful, half-blurred.

The last thing you hear is the low timbre of Zayne’s voice, softer than you’ve ever heard it, sending you off into the dark.

“It does.”

💙 bonus hc 💙: zayne has different ways to check heartbeats depending on how close he is to someone. for his normal days on the job, he uses a stethoscope, but when it comes to those he gets close to, he’ll take it by wrist pulse or neck. when the two of you start dating, he becomes a fan of pretending he can only take your pulse if he’s resting his head against your chest, which usually leads to him falling asleep on you.

© 2024, written by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[moonstruckme]

Could you write like a cute little thing of Siri and reader. Where Siri normally only has one helmet and it’s for the reader because he does their safety before his own and so the reader gets him his own helmet, and has like matching stickers on them or some thing how cute is that!!!!



Thanks for requesting my lovely!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 615 words

“Siri!” You’re waiting by the door when he pulls up on his bike, and Sirius barely has time to put the kickstand down before you’re hopping on behind him. “What have you been doing, we’re going to be late!”

“Take it easy, gorgeous, they’ll wait for you.” He picks the helmet up off his head, twisting around for a kiss. The bike is rumbling beneath you, making it hard to tell if you’re buzzing from the vibrations or the tiny nibble Sirius gives your bottom lip. “You look absolutely stunning, by the way. Of course, I suppose the volunteer of the year needs to dress for the occasion even more than the rest of us common folk.” 

You blush, wrapping your arms around Sirius’ waist and using the proximity as an excuse to hide your face in the back of his shoulder. You did put some extra time into looking nice tonight, and it’s sweet of Sirius to notice. The charity you volunteer for is throwing a gala, and they’ve asked you to come receive an award for volunteer of the year. It’s less of a big deal than it sounds—the gala and the award both—but Sirius hasn’t let it go since you asked him to be your plus one, and you know he’s going to be insufferable with smug praise all night. 

“They’ll probably give it to someone else if we’re really late,” you say into the material of his dress shirt.

“Alright, alright.” He rolls his eyes, turning around and encouraging your head back so he can plop his helmet over your head. “Let’s go, baby.” 

“Oh, wait!” You grab the helmet, intending to tug it off. Sirius’ hands cover your own before you can move it. 

“Don’t,” he says, and he’d be menacing if he weren’t so himself. He thinks you’re about to go through the same argument you always do, him insisting you wear the only helmet and you trying to force it back upon him, but Sirius always gets his way in the end. We’re not going anywhere, he’ll tell you, unless that thing is on your head the entire time. And I swear to god, baby, if I catch you trying to take it off I will pull this thing over. “You said you wanted to get there, and this is only going to slow us down,” he reasons now. “Plus, your hair looks too good to subject to the wind.” 

“No, wait, I just forgot something,” you insist, swinging a leg over the bike. Only then does Sirius let you take the helmet off, and even so with narrowed eyes. “Two seconds.” 

You run back inside, finding the helmet where you’d set it by the door. You’d been so anxious about Sirius’ tardiness, you’d totally missed it there on your way out. Sirius’ eyebrows go up when you come back out with it in your hands, just before a smile spreads like a slow sunrise across his face. 

“That for me, sweet thing?”

“Yup.” Your grin catches with his as you pass it to him. “You like it?”

Sirius turns it around in his hands, admiring the stickers you’ve applied all around it. “It’s gorgeous.” He sets it on his lap and brings one hand to your face, pulling you down so he can kiss your cheek. “Thanks, honey. I just feel bad for you now, yours isn’t nearly as cool.” 

“I saved the sticker packets,” you say, swinging your leg back over the bike and settling the helmet on your head satisfiedly. “I can do this one after I get home.” 

“Perfect.” Sirius puts his new helmet on, bumping it against yours affectionately. “Alright, hold onto me.” 

[desceros]

tries to sleep, fails, gets melancholy, copes by writing purple turtle fic donatello/reader, gn!reader, rated t, 1.6k. insomnia, friends to.... friends, (were you ever just friends? are you something more? what is love if not friendship shifted an inch to the left?), yearning, yearning, yearning, yearning—

Donatello is sleeping.

Hefting a fatigued sigh, you hover in the doorway to his bedroom for a moment. Staring at his face, taking it in. He’s gotten unfairly handsome as the years have gone by. Beautiful, even. Pretty angles, sharp defined lines, dark seductive eyes. Like this, unmasked, slack in sleep, it’s free for you to look as much as you want. More than you can during the day. A little secret thing just for your own heart’s keeping.

…Best friends shouldn’t want to stare at each other like this, you think with an ache.

It’s late. You can’t sleep. Lying down has provided nothing but racing thoughts you can’t quiet. Things to do tomorrow. Things to say when you see someone. Things to write down if you can hold them until the morning. Things, things, things. So many things in your head, ten thousand little voices like little snowflakes in your skull. Each small, powerless; but together, a force too mighty to outrun.

And Donnie is sleeping. Normally he’s awake. Fiddling, poking, prodding, studying, twisting, cracking, bending. Available to draw you into sleep. Always soothing, petting your hair, cooing at you until you drift off at last to the dulcet sounds of his low rumbles.

But not tonight. Tonight he sleeps, pretty in his sheets even as he’s all sprawled out and drooling. Cute. He’s cute. He’s cute and close enough to touch but so, so far away that you know you never will. Not like that. Not like that. 

It’s late. You can’t sleep. 

Slowly, not wanting to wake him, infuriated with yourself just at the thought that you’d risked it by lingering as long as you have, you peel away from his door frame and sneak into the living room. The couch greets you again. Inviting, soft. It smells like turtle ass. Popcorn. Movie night. It smells like family, like home. Scratchy beneath your cheek. You’ve been meaning to get them some new pillows. The way Mikey had laughed so hard he’d snorted his drink. Leo’s squawk when it got all over him. The weight of Donnie’s arm on your shoulder when he’d leaned on you while laughing until he got the hiccups. His cologne, new, smells nice. You should tell him tomorrow.

(You can’t tell him. There’s no way for a best friend to look at the other with pupils shaped like hearts and be the same. You can’t tell him.)

Heavily, you sigh. It’s late. You can’t sleep.

You sit up. Get up off the couch. Stretch a little before exhaling and walking around a bit to try and work off some of this excess energy. The darkness of the living room isn’t so much, anymore, what with how your eyes have adjusted. You can see the pieces of the evening strewn about. A pizza box that Splinter’s going to find in the morning and yell at the lot of you for not throwing out. Raph’s teddy bear, leaning against the other couch where he’d been pretending he hadn’t been using it to hide his face in the scary parts. Mikey’s cup, half-full, forgotten in Leo’s panic to find paper towels. And—

—Donnie, standing in the doorway, bleary-eyed, arms folded. 

“Why are you awake?” he asks, voice tumbling over your ears like rocks on a riverbed. Guilt strikes you like a blow. He’s exhausted. You’ve woken him up.

“I’m sorry,” you say as an answer, tangling your fingers in the shirt you’d borrowed out of his closet. The shirt you always borrow. The shirt that’s half yours, now. 

Donnie’s quiet. You sink your teeth into your lower lip and hope he’ll shrug and go back to bed. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’s got enough sleep juice in him that he’ll drift right back off and forget this happened. 

He doesn’t. “…Can’t sleep?”

The guilt burns your skin like sand in the wind. You smile and pretend. “I’ll be okay. Go back to bed, Don. You need it more than I do.”

He doesn’t. 

“…Please?” you try again. 

You’re met, instead, with a sigh. He rubs the back of his head where his mask would tie if he were wearing it. Lets his arm fall to his side—ah, except no. He’s holding out his hand, palm outstretched, inviting you to come close. When you don’t, his beak wrinkles. “Come here.” 

You take a few steps closer, but don’t take his hand just yet. “What are you doing?”

“Just come here,” he says again, curling his fingers a few times in an imperious grabby command. You come closer. He opens his tired eyes in a squint, mouth dipped into a frown, and his gesture gets more demanding. “Come here.” 

Stepping closer, closer, closer, finally you get within range. You realize he wants your hand the moment he loses patience with you, watching as he rolls his eyes and reaches out to encircle your wrist with strong fingers. They eclipse the bones there easily, tugging as he turns, pulling you out of the living room. 

“Don—” you start to protest, but he stops you with a breath.

“Stubborn,” he accuses, though there’s no heat to the word. The scoff is thick on the back of your tongue—Donnie of all people calling you stubborn—but you don’t let it out, knowing it’ll be too-loud in the pitch night. 

He pulls you into his room, the very room that had been such a sweet siren song to you earlier. He pulls you towards his bed. He pulls you in behind him when he settles in. He pulls you beneath his blanket. He pulls, pulls, pulls, until your chest is flush to his plastron and his arm is around your waist and his breath is in your face and your heart is in your throat.

It’s late. You’re not going to be able to sleep.

“…Go to sleep,” he says after a few seconds, doubtless able to feel the way your pulse is like a hummingbird against his skin. 

“Sorry,” you say in lieu of—anything else. You don’t dare try to say another word, unsure of what exactly would tumble out instead. Perhaps a sweet poem about the texture of his skin against yours. Maybe a lament that he feels the need to tuck his thigh between yours so so so close to where you wake in a pool of sweat dreaming of his touch. Or possibly a whispered confession that tastes like lightning and blood and sugar all at the same time; that you want this but not this, you want this but more. 

Gently, a forehead bonks against yours. Dark eyes open and meet yours, centimeters away. He studies you, and you watch the gears turn. More slowly than usual, lethargic even, because of his slumber. 

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs. Dumbly, you nod. “Need to talk about it?”

“…Yeah,” you admit, then, “…but I won’t.”

He doesn’t like that. A frown mars his beautiful, beautiful face. 

“Why?”

You swallow the incredulous laugh, the kaleidoscope of responses. They’re all irrelevant, impossible to share, save for one. “You should sleep.”

Donnie’s hand tightens, fingers curling in his—your—shirt in the small of your back. “So should you.”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“…”

“…I don’t understand.” The confession, rare, makes you sigh. 

“…I don’t either,” you tell him. And you don’t. Why did you have to feel this way for him? Why couldn’t it be someone easier that stole your heart? Why does it have to be the one person you can’t stand to lose? Why does he have to be so comfortable touching you like this and making it hurt even worse? Why can’t you stop feeling this way?

Why can’t you sleep? Why can’t you sleep? 

His fingers unfurl from your shirt. His hand dips beneath the hem, finding the skin of your back. Slow shivers spread like little earthquakes as he strokes along your spine, tectonic caresses that ripple and destroy. It's familiar enough a touch that you don't stop him; unfamiliar enough that it rends you inside out.

Donnie leans in. Ghosts his lips along your jaw. It’s not a kiss; you’re just friends, after all. But it’s a sweet caress that feels good, all the way to where he lingers at your ear, whispering there, quivering at the touch that's too close to something else to be fair. “Close your eyes.”

You have one rule: listen to Donatello. So you do; you close your eyes, let his nails drag down your back, let his mouth press warm into your pulse, let his chest rumble with churrs that fill the night air with something akin to a lullaby. His legs curl around yours, mixing, confusing, making the separation of you disappear. 

It’s… maddening. You hate this. You love him. You love him so much. You hate that he can do this so easily. 

“Shhh,” comes the gentle coo against your skin, like he can tell you’re pulling away from his intent. You obey that, too. Donnie says to be quiet, so you quiet. Thoughts, movements, words; all of them fall away at his beckoning. “Just like that. Good.”

Good, you think, feeling a little fuzzy. It feels good to be good for him. God. You’d be so good for him—but no. None of that, now. Not when you can pretend that these little presses of his lips are kisses. That the thickness of his thigh pressed to your shorts means something. That his hand scratching lines in your skin is something meant to claim as much as it is to calm.

“Making me work for it tonight,” you hear him mumble, half-conscious of the words, not sure if they’re real or part of a dream he’s built for you. “Good job, sweetheart. Just like that.” 

More brushes of his mouth. A slow glide of tongue. A lovely dream, you think, finally letting your muscles go slack. A dream of a Donatello who would hold you like this, talk to you like this. A Donatello who is more than just your best friend.

It’s late. Finally, warm and held and pulled into a sweet dream, finally, you sleep.

[literaryavenger]

Until My Last Breath

Summary: Bucky has always told you he'll love you until his last breath and, through it all, you loved him just as much.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst. So much angst. Language probably. No use of Y/N. Mentions of death. Mentions of violence.

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: I've been so busy working all summer, then my computer broke and I had to replace it and then when I finally did I had major writer's block. Then, out of nowhere, I got this idea and wrote it in like two hours... Thank you fanfic Gods, and also I'm so sorry for maybe the saddest fic I've ever written.

Masterlist

1941

“Please don’t go…” You whispered, holding onto his army uniform like a lifeline. Bucky sighed. He didn’t want to go. But he had to, he was about to ship off to London with no idea as to when he’d be coming back. Coming back to his mother, to his sister… Back to you. 

“You know I have to, doll…” He whispered back, his face buried in her hair while he inhaled her scent, trying to commit it to memory as if he hadn’t done the exact same thing thousands of times now throughout his life. “But I’ll come back to you… I promise.” You both knew that was something he couldn’t promise, but it didn’t stop either of you from clinging to that promise. He’d find a way back to you, even if he had to walk backwards through hell to do it.

“I’ll wait for you…” You promised him in return, and you both knew you meant it. He was it for you, it was him or nobody and if he was to never come back, you’d die alone before marrying someone else.

“I love you, doll… And I’ll love you until my last breath.” With one last kiss to your forehead, he’s gone and all you can feel is the coldness from the absence of his body against yours. 

1943

“Hey!” Bucky called the attention of all the soldiers around Steve, Peggy and himself. “Let’s hear it for Captain America!” 

Amongst all the clapping and cheering, a sharp voice could be heard. A call of his name that made Bucky’s heart beat faster. Before he could even turn around properly towards the sound of your voice, you were throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. 

He almost thought he was dreaming, holding onto you like you could disappear at any second while glancing at Steve, who had the goofiest smile because he knew what was coming next.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” You smacked his chest after pulling away, but Bucky could barely feel it or even hear the words coming out of your mouth. 

All he could see was you, your beautiful face, your eyes full of tears, your lips moving but the sound not reaching his ears. 

He stopped your scolding by gently holding your face, a soft smile on his face. 

“I did promise I’d come back for you, didn’t I?” He said quietly and you couldn’t help but soften and lean into his touch.

“I’m so glad you’re okay…” You whispered back and hugged him again. “I love you, you dumbass.” He chuckled at your playful insult. “And I’ll love you until my last breath.” You added and he melted against you, holding you like he had no intention of ever letting go.

1944

You couldn’t believe it when Steve gave you the news. You didn’t want to believe it, tears in his eyes before he could even get the words out and promptly caught you when your legs gave out, not a coherent word coming out of your mouth, only desperate sobs. 

He waited until you calmed down enough to breathe normally again before he told you Bucky’s last words before he fell, wanting you to know his very last thought was of you.

“He said to tell you he’ll love you even after his last breath.”

1954

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Peggy asked quietly for what felt like the hundredth time.

It had been 10 years. 10 years since you’ve lost Bucky, 10 years since you lost Steve and 10 years since you joined Peggy, Howard and Colonel Phillips to help them found SHIELD.

And you couldn’t spend one more day like this.

“I told you, Peggy, I… I know he’s alive.” You said stubbornly while resting your hand on the glass of the cryochamber you were about to enter. “He’s out there somewhere and, when he comes back, I’ll be right there with him.” 

Peggy sighed. She knew by this point it was useless to argue, having tried countless times ever since Howard revealed his cryofreezing invention to you both and you volunteered to be the first one to reside in one.

You had fought more times than you cared to remember because Peggy insisted that your inability to accept Bucky and Steve are gone and move on was just not healthy. 

Deep down a part of you knew she was right, but you didn’t care. You could just feel it deep inside of you, that they weren’t gone, not for good. And you intended to be there when they came back, no matter how long that took, because you certainly couldn’t live a life without them.

Howard helped you carefully lay down on the chamber and gave you one last smile, Peggy squeezed your hand and, almost as fast as falling asleep, you were unconscious, your last thought of Bucky’s face and his voice saying those seven words as you mutter them to yourself,

“I’ll love you until my last breath.”

2016

After the fall of SHIELD and Natasha released all their and Hydra’s files on the internet, she found an old file about a secret project that only had Peggy Carter and Howard Stark’s name on it... And, weirdly, Steve’s.

It took a couple of years of digging to find it, and to find him, but finally the team managed to find Bucky’s apartment in Bucharest and this time Steve had a very convincing argument to make Bucky go with him. 

He ran behind Steve, both of them sprinting through the hallways of the Avengers Compound to get to Bruce’s lab.

They arrived just as Tony and Bruce managed to get the chamber open safely while Dr. Cho stood by just in case anything went wrong.

Your eyes fluttered open like you were merely waking up after a restful night of sleep and you looked around at all the strange faces, until your eyes settled on a pair of blue eyes and blonde hair. 

Steve’s eyes were full of tears like you remember them when he told you Bucky died, but his expression was anything but painful.

But before you can even start processing that, Bucky came into view. His face was shocked, his legs almost working on their own as he walked closer to you like his body’s being pulled towards you by some magnetic pull.

As soon as he was close enough, he cupped your face gently like he was trying to make sure you were real and he wasn’t imagining you, he wasn’t dreaming this.

You leaned into his touch on instinct alone and you reached out to wipe the tears streaming down his face. In that exact moment, with the feeling of your skin against his, he knew it was real. He had you back.

He pulled you into a tight hug that you returned, the both of you staying there like that for what felt like hours before Steve had to pry Bucky away so Dr. Cho could check you over, Bucky never leaving your side or even letting go of your hand.

It was a very emotional day for all three of you which ended with Steve retiring to his bedroom with a kiss on your forehead before you and Bucky went to one of the guest rooms to sleep.

Neither of you could, or wanted, to keep your hands off each other as you cuddled close in bed between soft touches and sweet words.

“I knew you’d come back to me…” You whispered while nuzzling your face in his chest. 

“I’ll always come back to you…” He whispered back. “I love you… And I’ll love you until my last breath.” He added just as he felt you starting to fall asleep.

2018

Even as the both of you tried to get accustomed to the 21st Century, Bucky didn’t see any reason to wait any longer since he’d been eager to ask you this question for the last 80 years, and it didn’t even came as a surprise to you when he got down on one knee on the roof of the Compound after possibly the most romantic date you’ve ever had. 

“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you… You got me through war, you got me through Hydra, you get me through every day of my life… And I know now, more than ever, that I’ll love you until my last breath. Will you marry me?”

Needless to say, you jumped on him while squealing out a yes and peppered kisses all over his face before he kissed you senseless.

You got married less than a month later right in the yard of the Compound, surrounded by the entire team that quickly became like your family, Steve obviously was both the best man and also gave you away.

It was the happiest day of both your and Bucky’s, both of you promising to love each other until your last breaths.

2024

Those are all the moments that flash in front of your eyes. It was supposed to be a simple mission, in and out. Nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times in the last eight years. 

But an unexpected enemy came at Bucky and, without even thinking about it, you jumped in front of him. He didn’t even notice until he heard the sound that came out of your mouth as you fell to your knees.

Everything became blurry after that and, by the time Steve arrives at the location you and Bucky are in, every enemy is dead and Bucky is drenched in blood, none of it his own.

He’s holding you close to his chest, chanting ”Please don’t go, please don’t go” like a prayer as tears stream down his face.

You can’t see anything other than him, your eyes locked on him as he desperately tries to keep pressure on the bullet wounds but blood is pouring out of you faster than can register. 

You stop his frantic movements by cupping his cheek weakly, a single tear falling down the side of your face as you struggle to get words out.

There’s so much you want to say to him, how you wish you’d have more time, how he shouldn’t blame himself, how you want him to move on and try to be happy, how scared you are right now to leave him but you can feel there’s nothing more you can do. This is it. But you only manage to say three word,

“I love you.”

His blue eyes are the last thing you see before you sleep into nothingness and you feel a peacefulness you didn’t think was possible this close to the end. But you can’t help it because you know, despite it all, you did love him until your last breath.