#that you'd use a scare tactic like that?

[blackvahana]

christ it hits me a lot how shit I was treated by lull and how much I thought that was normal. Lev set up a study room in my house, and... he said I can come in because I was sort of obviously asking the question without even knowing I was asking, like I wanted to ask the question but knew it'd be a no. Why did I know itd be a no? Well a study space is a serious space for actual academic and general people who do work to use, full of books and journals that both aren't my business and will be easily messed up if I touch them, and there's no reason for me to be in there anyway because I don't do work, a study is only a space for normal people and not people who mess everything up and - how do i know this? Oh I mean because lull - yeah

[fatecantstopme]

Lustful Agony

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen, aka my favorite trope.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, an insane amount of smut, dubcon (cuz sex pollen), unprotected sex (p in v), oral (F receiving), masturbation (F).

"Would you please be careful?" you snapped.

Your partner froze and offered you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, doc. I wasn't paying attention."

"I noticed," you huffed. "There are any number of things in here that could kill us, so tread lightly."

"Maybe I should wait here."

You glanced in his direction and nodded. "You know what? Good idea. Stay there and don't touch anything."

You continued on through the dusty lab, hoping to find at least one working computer, but after 20 minutes, it seemed hopeless. Every computer had been destroyed and most of the paper files had been shredded or burned. All that remained was hundreds of glass vials filled with various liquids and gases that did gods-only-knew what.

"I'm starting to think this might be a burn and run," you called back to Bucky--still standing where you'd left him on the other side of the lab.

"If we blow this place, is there gonna be a toxic cloud?"

You shot an annoyed look in his direction. "I said 'burn', James, not 'blow'. We're not blowing up a lab filled with unknown chemicals and biological agents."

"Right, yeah." He looked at the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed. He always seemed to make a fool of himself in front of you and he hated it. He never wanted to be the fool, especially around you.

Your well-trained eyes scanned the room again before falling on a secured biological containment chamber. You knew that would be the best option for storing items for burning. All you'd need to do was get all the bio vials into the chamber and light it up.

You crossed the room to the chamber, feeling Bucky's eyes following you. He hated being in a position where he felt like he couldn't protect you, but he was out of his element here. As the resident hazardous materials expert, this was your area of brilliance.

You grumbled in annoyance when you noticed the lock on the containment chamber was activated. You were familiar with this particular model, and if you were lucky, these Hydra assholes hadn't been smart enough to bother changing the code. You input the pin, silently crossing your fingers, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the distinct sound of the mechanism unlocking.

You lifted the hood slowly, hoping to find the chamber empty. You had a momentary thought that you and Bucky should be wearing appropriate PPE, but the thought occurred to you too late.

A sound of surprise escaped your lips as a puff of sweet-smelling pink dust blew into your face from inside the cabinet. The tactical suit and gloves you were wearing did nothing to protect your respiratory system from the unknown substance.

The dust seemed to dissolve almost instantly, fading into nothingness before you could even alert Bucky to the hazard. He, of course, had heard your surprised gasp, thanks to his super soldier hearing.

"Doc? Everything okay?" he called worriedly.

"Not sure," you replied. "I, uh, I got hit in the face with some pink dust...and I'm willing to bet it's not fairy dust."

Bucky's blood ran cold. "Pink dust?"

"Yeah, smelled like some kind of super sweet candy--or those sugary wine coolers I drank in college."

Any color that remained in Bucky's face quickly drained. "Look at me."

His tone was so firm, it frightened you. Bucky normally joked around with you, but you could hear the fear in his voice and it scared you more than anything else.

You turned to face him and his expression confirmed your fears. "Do you know what it is?"

Bucky nodded. "I think so, but we won't know for sure for at least 30 minutes, possibly longer."

"Am I going to die?" your voice was so soft--so small--that even he almost didn't hear it.

"Not if I can help it."

When your eyes met his piercing blue orbs, he could see the terror reflected in them. He wanted to go to you, help you, but he knew he couldn't--not if you still had even the slightest trace of the dust on you.

"You need to rinse off before we get out of here," Bucky said calmly. "If it's what I think it is, then I can't get that stuff anywhere near me."

"Why? What'll happen?"

Bucky's gaze didn't quite meet yours. "I will tear you apart and not even realize it."

His words cut you like a knife. You knew deep in your soul Bucky would never hurt you, but if this substance could turn him into a wild animal, you wondered what the hell it was going to do to you.

You'd spotted a decontamination area when you'd first entered the lab, so you slowly made your way there, careful to avoid getting anywhere near Bucky.

Bucky radioed in to Sam to give him an update on the situation. You heard him describing what had happened and asking for another team to be sent in to destroy the facility.

You stood under the spray of the shower head and let the water pummel your skin. The pressure was almost painful, but you knew it was necessary to ensure the substance was no longer on your skin. You'd inhaled it, so you were screwed, but there was no reason for Bucky to be too.

After several minutes, you felt comfortable saying you were clean. You just wanted to get the hell out of this lab and back home.

You voiced as much to Bucky, but he shook his head slowly. "You're not gonna make it all the way home, (Y/N)."

You didn't like Bucky's use of your first name in this context...he always called you 'doc', and the change made you feel like death was around the corner.

Your face must have given away your fear because he continued. "I just mean you won't make it home before the symptoms start. Once they do, you won't want to be around anyone."

"So what do we do?"

"Safe house. It's our only option."

You groaned inwardly. You had zero desire to stay in that drafty little cabin another night, but you trusted Bucky's instincts, so you simply nodded.

Bucky was quick to usher you back to the quinjet, filling you in on his conversation with Sam. "He'll send in another team in full Level A hazmat gear. They'll take care of the place."

"Okay."

"You alright, doc? How you feelin'?"

"I feel fine so far. Just moderately terrified."

"Don't be. You're gonna be fine."

You wanted to believe him--really you did--but there was something in his voice that made you question if he even believed it.

By the time the jet touched down by the cabin, 25 minutes had passed since the moment of infection. Bucky still hadn't told you what you were dealing with and it was driving you insane.

You followed Bucky into the cabin and watched him drop his bag on the floor. He turned to look at you, eyes clearly sizing you up, checking to see if you were okay.

"Just tell me," you whispered--somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He sighed deeply. "How do you feel?"

You closed your eyes and took mental stock of your body, seeking anything out of the ordinary. "I feel hot, but that could just be the anxiety."

"How hot?"

"I don't know, like feverish, I guess."

Bucky groaned and the sound sent a wave of need through your body--a need that shocked you to your very core. This was absolutely not the time for your stupid crush to rear its head.

"Please don't hit me, okay? I'm just gonna touch your hand."

"Why would I hit you?" you asked a second before his flesh hand met yours. The feeling was pleasant and it warmed you from the inside out, until he removed his hand. You inhaled sharply as an intense pain you couldn't describe shot through you.

Bucky jerked his hand away, his worst fears confirmed. "I know what it is."

"Please," you whimpered.

"It's a biological agent Hydra developed when their attempts to make a useable super soldier serum failed. It was designed to induce a euphoric sexual state that would result in agony and possible death if penetrative sex was not performed and an orgasm was not achieved."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Hydra believed they could create super soldiers the old fashion way--by breeding them. Sprinkle some of the magic dust on a super soldier and he'd fuck his way through a room full of women without a single care for their well-being. They called it 'sex pollen'."

Your breathing was labored as pain began to spread through your body. You tried desperately to ignore it and focus on Bucky's words. "What happened?"

Bucky couldn't look at you as he responded softly, "None of the women survived the mating process."

You realized now what he'd meant back at the lab. You didn't really want to know, but you found yourself asking the question anyway, "Did they do it to you?"

Bucky closed his eyes, desperately trying to push the dark memories back down. "Yeah. They did."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head, banishing the memories. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is how we handle this."

"If the sex pollen had that kind of effect on a super soldier, what's it gonna do to me?"

"I imagine it's going to be significantly worse for you if you don't...umm--if you don't reach climax."

"So I have to orgasm? Seriously?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Before you could respond, you doubled over in pain, an agonized groan escaping your parted lips.

Bucky rushed to you without thinking and laid his hands on your arms. You let out a pained whine and he pulled away, suddenly remembering what was happening.

"It feels like my skin is on fire," you cried.

"I know, doll. I know."

It was killing Bucky not to be able to help you. He was your protector in every situation, but he couldn't protect you from this. He knew exactly what kind of hell you were in for and it nearly broke him.

The waves of pain subsided and you were able to pull yourself upright. "Well this is fun," you mumbled.

"It's gonna get worse, (Y/N). Much, much worse."

"That's comforting, Buck. Thank you."

He gave you a sad look. "You can't do this alone."

"What do you mean?"

"The pollen was designed to force the creation of life...the only way to alleviate the pain is to give the pollen what it wants."

Your brain had become too muddled to understand what he was saying. "Plain English, Buck. Please."

"You, uh, you have to have sex."

"So you're saying I can't just masturbate this away?"

Bucky shook his head. "You have to have sex and your partner has to umm--ejaculate inside you."

Another wave of pain raked its claws through your skin, but you managed to stay upright this time. "What happens if I don't?"

You saw the look of sadness on Bucky's face and you knew you wouldn't like his answer. "You'll die."

"Well, fuck." You winced, reaching out to grab the back of the couch for stability. The pain was only increasing and you knew it was a matter of time before you couldn't take it any longer. "How sure are you that I'll die?"

"I mean, I don't know any regular humans that survived contact with the pollen. They were used as test subjects during its creation."

"I swear, Hydra gets more disgusting every time I learn something new."

Bucky was dying to help you. Seeing you in pain was agonizing for him and he knew his pain paled in comparison to yours. He would do anything for you--all you need do was ask.

"I'm gonna try waiting it out," you said firmly.

"What?" Bucky said, shock evident in his tone.

"I'm sure as hell not gonna force you to fuck me, Bucky. So I'm gonna wait it out."

"(Y/N), you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering to help. I don't want you to die."

You shook your head. "I'd rather die than force you into this."

"I'm offering--"

"Don't," you snapped. "No matter what you say, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing you to do something and I can't deal with that. So please, let me try to handle this alone."

Bucky knew for a fact he could overpower you with ease, especially when you were in such a state. He could make the pain stop and you would be glad for it in the moment. But he couldn't do it. He would never ever hurt you like that, even if it meant watching you die. It just wasn't something he was capable of.

"Okay, doll."

You could tell he didn't want to agree, but you were glad he wasn't arguing. All you wanted to do was tear your clothes off and try to find some sort of relief. The fire burning under your skin was intensifying by the second.

"I'm gonna take a cold shower and lock myself in the bedroom. Please stay out here."

Bucky simply nodded. He wanted to sit on this couch and listen to the sounds of your pain about as much as he wanted to get shot in the face. But he respected you too much to ignore your wishes.

You dragged yourself into the bathroom and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the cold shower. The frigid water seemed to help at first, but you discovered the effects were short-lived.

You leaned your head against the cold tile and let out a pained sob. You wanted the pain to stop so badly, but you didn't want to involve Bucky. You couldn't. Bucky was your closest friend and partner. His was the relationship you valued most in life and you wouldn't risk it for anything. It didn't matter you were in love with him. It didn't matter you'd wanted him from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. What mattered is you knew he didn't feel the same.

Bucky had a new girl in his bed several times a week. You were pretty sure you'd never seen the same girl twice in the three years you'd known him. Each one was a tall, blonde, model-thin, gorgeous woman. You didn't check a single one of those boxes. You didn't think Bucky was shallow, he just had a type. He was one of the hottest men you'd ever seen, so it only made sense for him to be with the hottest women.

You didn't think you were ugly, by any means. You just weren't his type. You were shorter, very curvy, girl-next-door average. You'd accepted it long ago and vowed to never tell him how you felt for fear of jeopardizing your friendship. Your current situation was as close as you could get to your biggest fear and you weren't willing to risk it. You loved him too much to lose him entirely. Even if he insisted he was willing to help, you knew he would come to regret it. Things would be awkward between you and eventually your friendship would come to an end.

"Not worth the risk," you muttered to yourself.

The cooling effects of the shower had long since worn off, so you turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As you wrapped it around your body, you found it was too small to cover everything and the scratchy material was painful against your overly sensitive skin.

You dropped the towel to the ground and opened the door a crack. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"Um, the towel hurts my skin, so um...please don't look while I walk to the bedroom."

Bucky inhaled deeply, calming himself. Sure, he wasn't impacted by the pollen, but the fact that your naked body was a few feet away from him certainly did.

"I'll close my eyes."

You tentatively opened the door and peeked out. You could see Bucky sitting on the couch, eyes closed as promised. You quickly rushed from the bathroom to the open bedroom door, shutting it behind you. In your haste to get out of sight, you neglected to lock the door.

You nearly collapsed onto the bed, the need to feel some relief the only thing on your mind. Normally, you would have been embarrassed to even consider touching yourself when Bucky was so close by, but this was an extreme circumstance. You mentally told yourself you needed to be quiet at the very least, given his excellent hearing.

You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it was impossible. The only parts of your body that didn't ache were the ones you were actively touching. You slipped your dominant hand between your legs and felt another wave of embarrassment hit when you felt just how wet you were.

The moment your fingers brushed between your folds, you let out a loud moan. You slapped your hand across your mouth and hoped Bucky mistook the sound for one of pain.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he sat on the couch less than 10 feet from the bedroom door. He could hear every tiny little sound you made, even as you desperately tried to stay quiet.

He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those sounds--not when you were experiencing something so awful--but he couldn't help it. He'd dreamed of hearing you moan for him a hundred times before. It took all his will-power to not bust down that door and give you what you needed.

You let out a particularly obscene moan and Bucky had to stifle his own. His cock strained against his pants and he hated himself for being turned on. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault--he'd wanted you for years--but he couldn't shake the feeling of shame.

Ten minutes went by and the sounds coming from the bedroom continued. Bucky gripped the back of the couch with all his strength, determined to not give himself even a modicum of pleasure from this.

Another five minutes passed and he heard you let out a pained sob. His heart skipped a beat and he listened closely for any more noise. He heard the distinct sounds of you crying and his resolve broke. He immediately went to your door and knocked.

"Doll? You okay?"

"It hurts so much," you whimpered.

He leaned his forehead against the door. "I know, sweetheart. Please let me help you. Please."

He could hear you writhing around on the bed, whimpers of pain reaching his ears and making him tear up.

"I can't--it didn't work," you cried. "I'm so hot--it hurts."

"Please, baby," Bucky begged. He placed his hand on the doorknob, dying to turn it and get to you.

"Bucky," you whimpered.

The pain in that one simple word made his decision for him. He turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened the door a crack, but kept his eyes away from the bed.

"Let me help you," he pleaded again.

Your eyes roamed his gorgeous figure and you let out a choked sob. Nothing else mattered in that moment--all you could think about was him.

"Make it stop," you begged him.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, meeting yours in a desperately hungry look. He didn't say a word, didn't even allow his brain to process the deeper meaning of what he was about to do. You'd asked him to help you--to stop the pain--so that was exactly what he was going to do.

He stripped out of his tactical suit as fast as possible, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, cock straining to be set free.

You reached out a hand to him and he went to you without a thought. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes scanned your face.

"Are you sure about this, doll?" he asked softly.

"I need you," you whimpered back.

Those three little words shattered the sliver of resolve he'd had left. His lips met yours in a hungry, devouring kiss--all teeth and tongue. His hands latched onto your soft curves, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

Everywhere he touched felt like ice against your burning skin. The sensation both incredible and painful all at once. Whatever bit of shyness or insecurity you had was wiped away by the sheer intensity of it all.

Bucky's lips attacked your neck, your jaw, your collarbone--nipping and sucking bruising marks into your skin. While it felt good, it wasn't nearly enough.

"Need more."

Bucky nudged his knee between your legs to spread them wider for him. "I know, baby. I know."

He quickly descended down to your aching core, blowing hot air against it in a teasing manner. You whined and scratched at his scalp, reminding him this was not the time for teasing.

He flicked his tongue between your pussy lips, seeking out your clit immediately. The second his tongue brushed against it, you cried out in pleasure--the first real feeling of relief you'd had since you'd been infected.

Bucky smiled to himself as he settled in to properly feast on your pussy, reveling in the essence of you against his tongue, invading all of his senses.

You gripped his hair in one hand and the sheet in the other, gyrating wildly as Bucky ate you with abandon. The pleasure was blinding, but you could still feel the undercurrent of raging fire flowing through your veins.

Bucky seemed to instinctively know exactly what you enjoyed, following your body like he had a roadmap to your pleasure points. He sent you over the edge with ease three times before finally coming up for air.

You reached for him, still hungry for more. "Bucky."

"I'm here, baby." He kissed you deeply, hands gripping your hips tightly. He wanted to take his time with you, but he knew he couldn't--you needed more from him and you needed it now.

He was quick to discard his underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your aching hole and you both moaned.

"Please, please, please, please..." you begged.

Bucky knew what you needed and he wasted no time sheathing himself inside of you. You cried out in pain as his cock stretched you more than you'd ever experienced before. The pain quickly subsided into pleasure and the pollen seemed to sense its purpose was near.

You felt a surge of need and you begged him to fuck you. "I need it, please, Bucky."

"I've got you, sweetheart." He began to thrust gently, trying his best not to hurt you. The sensations began to overwhelm him as much as they were overwhelming you, prompting him to move faster--losing himself in the feeling of you.

"Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well."

Your pussy fluttered in response, a soft whine escaping your lips.

"Best pussy I've ever had. So tight and wet for me. Made for me, weren't you?"

You nodded rapidly, not really registering what he was saying.

"How many times you think I can make you cum, baby? Six? Seven? Think the pollen can get you there?"

Your eyes widened at his words. Unsure if that was possible even with pollen.

Bucky grinned down at you. "I think I can get seven. Bet this pussy will give me whatever I want, won't she? Gonna make my girl scream my name all night long."

You felt the coil in your belly snap as another orgasm rushed through you. You clung to Bucky, a string of profanity spilling past your lips.

Bucky didn't let you come down from it before pushing your body towards another orgasm. He wanted to feel you gripping his cock like this as long as possible--especially since he might never feel it again.

"Baby, you feel so good," he murmured, placing soft kisses to your face. "Love the way you're squeezing me."

"Feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"Fuck, been wanting to hear you say that for so long. Needed to be inside this tight little pussy so badly. It's better than I ever imagined."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to ask what he meant--if he'd really imagined it, but you were too far gone to articulate a coherent thought.

As another orgasm crashed into you, you momentarily wondered if it was possible to die from overwhelming pleasure. You'd been in so much pain for so long and the sudden change to blinding pleasure was incredible. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

"How many more can you give me, sweetheart?"

"Wanfeelcum," you mumbled incoherently.

"What was that, baby? Too fucked out to speak?"

"Wanna feel you cum, Bucky," you begged.

He was already so close to the edge he nearly lost control at the sound of your voice. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want this to end. He was scared if he came, if he gave you what you needed, then you'd be satiated and it would all be over.

"Need to feel you cum on my cock at least one more time, baby."

You whimpered, but nodded your consent.

Bucky picked up the pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You weren't sure whether it was the pollen or his skill, but you went flying over the edge of blinding pleasure with an intensity you'd never experienced. You screamed his name as the waves crashed over you, pussy gushing juices as you squirted all over his cock and abdomen.

"Fuck yeah, baby. So fucking sexy..." he murmured. "Gonna fill you up. Give you what you want."

"Want your cum," you begged.

"That's right, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum. Fill up this sweet pussy till you're stuffed."

"Yes, Bucky! Please!"

Bucky's hips stuttered as he came, filling your pussy with ropes of warm cum. Bucky kept thrusting slowly as he whispered your name into your skin over and over like a prayer.

Slowly, the haze created by the sex pollen began to fade, leaving you completely blissed out. Awareness of what you'd done began to creep in, but the feel of Bucky's weight on top of you kept you in the moment.

He finally slowed to a halt, but his lips were still pressing into your hot skin. After several more moments, he raised himself up just enough to kiss you sweetly, making sure you felt his adoration.

The moment he rolled off you, the full weight of what you'd done hit you like a ton of bricks. If your body would have cooperated, you would have turned over onto your side, curled up in a ball, and cried.

Bucky felt the sudden shift in your demeanor and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "(Y/N/N)..."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Surprise lit up his face. "What?"

"I shouldn't have done that--I'm so sorry."

"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sat up a little so he could look down at your face. You wouldn't meet his gaze, but he continued anyway. "Don't you dare think for a single second that I did something I didn't want to do. You were in pain and I couldn't let that stand. I would do anything for you, (Y/N). Anything. I don't regret it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Your eyes finally raised to meet his and you saw nothing but honesty in his gaze. You knew he cared about you, but you were still worried you'd crossed a line neither of you could come back from.

Bucky stared at your face, taking in just how incredibly beautiful you were. He was trying to commit it to memory--never wanting to forget any bit of it.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, doll. Like I said, I wanted to." He paused for a moment, a silent war raging inside of him. He seemed to make a decision and once he did, the words just flowed from his mouth. "I mean it, (Y/N). I've wanted to for years--wanted you for years. I never wanted it to happen like this, but fuck baby...here we are. I would do anything you asked of me, okay? I'll rip my own heart out and light it on fire if you ask me to. So if you ask me to pretend this never happened, I will, but I need you to know I don't want to. I want to make love to you over and over again, hear you scream my name, watch your beautiful face as you fall apart for me...I want you. I will always want you."

You were completely breathless by the time he stopped talking. The words coming out of his mouth weren't what you'd ever expected to hear. "You want me?"

"I've always wanted you. Every part of you. Inside and out."

"What about all the other women?"

"What?"

"The ones you bring home all the time."

He touched your face gently, turning your head to look at him directly. "They're fine for a night, but they're not you. They were a poor substitute for the woman I really wanted, but couldn't have."

"Bucky..."

He looked a little crestfallen, mistaking your tone for rejection. "It's okay if you don't feel the same--"

Your hand gently pressed against his lips, shutting him up instantly. "If I could move properly, I would have kissed you to shut you up."

His eyes lit up and a small smile played on his lips.

"Of course I feel the same. Of course I want you. I only pushed you away tonight because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you would regret it."

He leaned down so he was inches away from your lips. "Oh sweetheart, I could never regret anything to do with you."

Your lips curled up in a sweet smile. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance we can make love? I wanna be in the moment...really in it."

"Right now?" he asked in surprise.

You nodded.

His lips met yours in a loving kiss. "I'm more than happy to oblige."

You grinned as he rolled back on top of you, lips pressing against yours hungrily.

"I'll make love to you as many times as you want. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Just ask."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

You smirked slowly. "Then I might have some ideas..."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yes." You pulled his face down to yours to whisper some of your inner desires into his ear.

"My god," he murmured. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You laughed lightly and he joined in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, dead-set on giving you everything you wanted and more.

[enderlovez]

It's Okay

Spencer Reid x BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: You and Spencer have to comfort a little girl after she finds her parents dead in her home, and your odd tactics work surprisingly well.

Content Warning: guns and violence, mentions of murder, blood, strange methods of calming a child down, dead bodies mentioned, broken glass, scared children

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The house is unnervingly silent.

Bloodstains and shards of broken glass litter the carpet around the bodies as you carefully step around them, you and Spencer moving cautiously towards the bedroom.

From inside comes the faint, muffled sound of sobbing. Through the cracked door you can see a little girl—Harper—curled up tightly in the corner, clutching a worn stuffed rabbit as though it's her only lifeline.

You glance at Spencer, your expression heavy. This is always the hardest part of the job: dealing with the survivors, especially ones this young and scared. Spencer offers you a faint nod, his own nerves masked by his calm demeanor.

You open the door slowly, kneeling down to meet Harper's line of sight. "Hey there," you say softly, careful not to startle her. "I'm Y/N, and this is Spencer. We're here to help you."

She doesn't answer, her tear-filled eyes darting between the two of you. Your chest tightens as her tiny frame trembled, her grip on the stuffed animal tightening further.

Spencer kneels beside you, his voice just as soft and measured as he addresses the young girl. "We promise, we're not gonna hurt you. We're here to keep you safe."

Her bottom lip quivers, but she doesn't speak. You can practically feel the weight of her fear, and your usual comforting words don't seem enough right now. You briefly look at Spencer, then back at her—time to get a little creative.

You stand and cross the room, kneeling again when you're right in front of her.

Reaching for your holster, you carefully pull out your sidearm and hold it up in a non-threatening way, your finger nowhere near the trigger. "Do you know what this is, Harper?" you ask, your voice calm and steady.

Please don't backfire on me...

Her sobs pause for a moment, her wide eyes fixed on the gun. "A... a gun?" she whispers.

"That's right," you say, your tone light as if you're discussing her favorite toy. "It's my job to use this to protect people, to keep them safe. And right now, I'm here to keep you safe. Me and Floppy," you add with a smile, nodding toward her bunny.

Spencer glances at you, his eyebrows raises slightly in surprise, but he doesn't stop you. You know what you're doing—or at least you hope you do.

"Can I see it?" Harper asks hesitantly, her curiosity momentarily overpowering her fear.

"Not this one—it's very grown up," you say with a small chuckle, slipping the gun back into its holster. "But maybe someday, when you're older and want to be a hero too. For now, just know that it's here, and it'll keep you safe."

Harper blinks, her tears slowing as she processes your words in her little six year old brain. "You'd use it for me?"

"Absolutely," you say firmly without hesitation, leaning in a little closer. "You're really important to us, Harper. We're going to make sure nothing bad happens to you."

Spencer finally chimes in, appearing beside you, his voice gentle but slightly amused. "And I can vouch for Y/N. She's a very good shot."

The faintest ghost of a smile crosses Harper's face, and your shoulders relax slightly. "You're like superheroes," she says, her voice so quiet you would've missed it if you weren't paying so much attention.

"Exactly," you say, grinning. "Superheroes with badges and really big teamwork. And guess what? Superheroes are really good at making sure kids like you are okay."

Harper nods, her fingers loosening their death grip on Floppy. "Okay," she murmurs, edging closer to you, "but I'm still scared."

"That's okay too," you assure her. "Being scared just means you're brave enough to face things that are hard. And right now, you're doing and amazing job, Harper."

She hesitates, then leans forward slightly, her small frame still trembling but no longer frozen in fear. She wraps her little arms around your waist, face pressed into your stomach. You take her into your arm, tracing shapes on her back with your pointer finger.

You glance at Spencer, who's watching you with a mix of admiration and mild disbelief. He mouths, Really? The gun?

You shrug subtle in response, your lips quirking up.

After a moment, Harper looks up from your stomach, her eyes still red but clearer now. "Will you stay here?" she asks.

"We'll stay as long as you need us," you answer instantly, tone as warm and reassuring as you can make it. "You're not alone anymore, Harper. Are you tired?"

She nods, so you lift her up off the floor and lay her down on her bed, only laying beside her when she gently tugs on your shirt. She immediately snuggles up against you, clutching onto you with one of her death grips, but you don't care.

Her breathing starts to even out, and for the first time tonight, the tension in the room begins to lift.

When Morgan peeks into the room a few minutes later to check in, he raises an eyebrow at the sight of you—Spencer sitting at the end of the bed, you actually laid down with Harper's arms wrapped tightly around you, tight enough to actually make breathing a little difficult.

"You two good?" he asks, glancing between the three of you.

"Superheroes don't leave their missions unfinished," you reply with a wink, gently stroking Harper's hair, and Morgan shakes his head, muttering something about your methods as he leaves.

One Harper is finally asleep, Spencer leans towards you, his voice low. "You know, not every kid finds guns comforting."

"Worked on her, didn't it?" you whisper back, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Spencer rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile on his face. "Only you would use a weapon as a comfort object."

"She needed to feel like we can keep her safe," you reply, looking down at Harper's peaceful face, "and I think we nailed it."

He chuckles softly, his hand brushing against yours for a brief moment. "You're not wrong." A brief pause. "Wait, how'd you know the rabbit's name?"

You silently gesture to a drawing on the wall, a little girl and a rabbit holding hands, Harper and Floppy written in blue crayon beneath it.

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) how yandere enha keeps you under control ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ what enhypen does to keep you stuck inside ヾ

yandere!엔하이픈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ horror ‎, angst ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. what personal measures do u think each member of enhypen takes to keep you with them? like for example having cameras 24/7 to watch you or like having pre planned traps rdy for u when u try to escape? yandere pls🙏

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 thank you for requesting i hope you like it <3

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

cameras all around the house; no area is uncovered. he can see you at all times , when you wake up , when you're sleeping , even when you're showering. he checks those cameras all the time , and if he isn't home , he locks the door to the bedroom , there's a bathroom , a mini fridge and a tv programmed with spywear he can control. you don't need anything else , and you have no business going outside anyway

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

knows he can't just leave you tied up— besides where is the fun in that? so he installed an alarm that is triggered by the front door opening. the alarm is so loud it can be heard from down the hall of your apartment together, and enough to spook you back into the apartment which immediately makes the alarm shuts off. it also sends a message to his phone , so he knows you tried to leave , so you can't lie to him.

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

those pretty diamond earrings he bought you? yeah there's trackers inside each of them — trackers that goes off the moment you try and leave the front door , he watches you in between his meetings , he even knows where you are inside the house he's not stupid , he knows if you take them off too , don't think he's stupid , that's exactly why he bought you a pretty gold bracelet that you can never take off , which also contains a tracker… so it's safe to say he'll never not know where you are.

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

jake is delusional , he has everything; cameras, alarm systems — you even wear a bracelet that has a tracker inside. even with all that he still chooses to work from home to keep an eye on you , he just doesn't believe all that would work so if you do try and get out of the apartment he'll stop you and work on his try where he basically manipulates you stay.

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

sunghoon doesn't need any tactics or alarms to keep you by his side; you love your family right? your friends are doing good right? he knows that and that's how he keeps you. you want to leave? go ahead and he'll kill someone close to you. would he ever do it? kill someone you hold so close to you? he doesn't know , you always come back before he can even get to the best part — trust he's waiting for you to break the rules far enough for him to try , your best friend has been getting on his nerves.

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

sunoo trusts you, he loves you and he knows you'd never leave him — that security alarm is only there just in case. he knows you get frustrated and want to take really long walks and he doesn't trust the people outside , they'll hurt you so he needs this alarm to keep you safe , even if the alarm is in your bedroom , and is only on when he's not home , or if he's about to take a nap or if you've run away a few days prior.

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

much like sunghoon; ni-ki doesn't use cameras or alarms. he thinks there stupid even, if you can't control your girlfriend do you even deserve to have one? at first in the early stages of your relationship he'd use a rope to die you up. but as your relationship grew and he became more and more dangerous, you soon were too afraid to leave , all he had to do was give you that look , the that he's not above hitting you look and you're obeying him , he'd never hit you , but he's thrown enough things to scare you into thinking he would.

©LUVYENI

[crispy-armpit]

✧ 𝖒𝖞 𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴇᴀ ɢᴏᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𓇼˚₊‧꒰ა 🫧 ໒꒱ ‧���˚𓇼

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 10 dollars on a dare leads you to break one superstition that changes your life forever. you begin to learn secrets tied to your family and upbringing, at the cost of your freedom. who is this mysterious Anshumat, and why does he want you?

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺, violence, implied stalking, kidnapping, choking, reader gets called a bride once

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,418

⭒ a/n: yan sea god was inspired by an Indonesian myth called Nyi Roro Kidul! it's a really interesting legend if you want to learn more abt it ^^ also.... man tits...... meow..

will you venture down this path?

growing up, you would stay over at your grandmother's house every summer. her beautiful seaside cottage made the perfect accommodation for a family getaway. throughout your childhood, the superstitious old woman restricted you from doing specific things. rules like never whistling at night, don't open an umbrella indoors, etc.

you'd eventually found out that these were just scare tactics for children to make them listen. but there was one rule that your grandmother seemed to fear the most, a rule that never made sense... never wear white to the local beach. and when questioning her about the rule, she'd tell you the same story every time.

"long ago...

a cruel serpent god who once ruled these waters would rise from the ocean and into the islands, devouring innocent villagers and destroying temples along its path.

the gods and humans were furious at its actions. fed up with the destruction and death, they prepared a plan to thwart the serpent; a binding curse.

the serpent was cursed to spend its days rotting in a hidden island, where it was accompanied by its servants. it was also tasked with granting blessings to sailors passing through the rocky tides, where it weighed the sins of each individual to seal their fates.

but over the decades... the serpent grew bored and lonely. through a loophole, the serpent found a way to abduct humans. you see.. the serpent loves the colour white and pearls. so much so, it would use its voice, so alluring, to lure the poor victims who happened to wear such things. and once in the water, the serpent would drag the human to its temple where they would become its slave.. or worse...

its spouse."

here you are today, telling the same tale in front of your young niece and nephew. "well, that's one way to get bitches." your nephew, Keona laughs. a scoffing Kehlani adds on, "nah, who would want to marry an overgrown slimy snake?"

"hey now, take that shit to grandma. she just assigned me to be your storyteller," you shrugged. "and this story has a real reasoning behind it, ok?"

"what? sexy sea snake destroying villages?"

"no, it's so that little rascals like you..." you drill both your index fingers onto their foreheads, "are easier to find if you ever get lost at sea."

how did i end up here...

facepalming yourself, you sigh. you were disappointed in yourself. how'd you let those little punks reel you in a dare? where was the self-respect? the dignity? seriously, breaking your grandmother's number 1 rule for what? 10 dollars?

you walk along the shore while wearing a flowy white shirt and neck encased in one of your mother's pearl necklaces. the dare was simple: successfully walk down the shoreline without chickening out and boom— an extra 10 dollars into your wallet.

you'd prove to the twins that you weren't scared of a little bedtime story. buuut just in case you did happen to go missing (for reasons that are totally not hungry sea serpent related), you brought essentials in a bag, left a letter for your family, and are currently being watched by the twins.

laughing at yourself for the paranoia, you nearly reach the edge of the walk until you hear a feminine wail from between the hidden rocks. is someone hurt? the sound was coming from beyond your finishing point so it wouldn't hurt to check, right?

signalling the twins to come over, you bend down to their heights, "listen, it sounds like someone's in trouble past those rocks. so I want you both to go grab the first aid kit and call Officer Holden over, 'kay?" they nod and scamper off into town.

approaching the rocks, you peek in to find a naked... mermaid?! observing her, you notice the torn skin on her iridescent tail and warily walk over to her. "uh... hey? hola? salve? hallo? i'm ah— good human! no... nooooo bad.."

you notice the air seems to smell... sweeter?

the woman looks up at you from the sand with pleading eyes, "please— please help me! my name is Coralie, my master, he—"

"woah, it's ok! you're safe, help is coming. uh, your master? did he do this to you? are you an underwater criminal?!"

a distant melodious voice interrupts you. Coralie's previously pained face now warps into a sinister grin as her wound disappears. she crawls towards you as your vision fogs up and your knees buckle to the soft sand. the song lulls you into a deep sleep, your body now being pulled into the shallow waters.

you awake to the bright rays of sunshine and lungs filling in with fresh air. but the next in your line of sight knocked all the air out of your body again.

the luminous, barely-clothed body of an unknown man sat above you. his 9'7 self relaxed on the marble throne, with 2 pairs of eyes fixated on you. what the fuck is that?

you gawk at him, "holy mother of god..."

i'm not dreaming, am i?

his gaze shifts into amusement, "wrong. we gods do not have mothers. we were created."

"you're a... a god?"

"is it not obvious enough from my appearance? would you like to see another version of me?" the towering deity begins to warp into a feminine body as if it was melting and moulding itself. "is this preferable?" her new voice is flirtatious, genuinely curious.

then, she tries to warp into a third body. the transformation looks more painful than the one prior, it barely shifts halfway into a gruesome beast before returning back to its first body. he huffs while grasping his golden collar, "this... is not my original form. I have been cursed, long ago, to never set foot on human lands. this island is both my kingdom and prison."

you shakily stand up the marble floor, now noticing Coralie standing beside the throne with a pair of legs. slowly processing his words, you piece together the clues from his story and your memories of the abduction. this couldn't be...

"you are.. you're the sea serpent god! I can't believe grandma was right— shit, shit shit—"

he smirks at your panic, "correct. I am Anshumat; shapeshifter deity of the raging tides, granter of safe travels—"

"murderer and enslaver." you complete.

Anshumat roars, "correct again! you're on a strike, dear y/n. though trust me, my servants are treated well."

"..how do you know my name?"

"oh you poor thing, granny never told you? I know everything about you— a name is barely anything."

"told me what?"

"she used to be my cupbearer. until she escaped with that bastard traitor. isn't that right, Coralie?"

she nods, "yes, master."

"please sir, let me leave. my family— they'll search for me! I have a cat at home! I haven't even finished my favourite show.. so please..." you try to list more life goals.

he chuckled, "oh you are so amusing. and why would I do that? we've barely just been engaged, dear."

"what do you mean engaged?"

"I've been watching you since you took your first breath on earth, y/n. so imagine my surprise— to see you wrapped up in my favourite colour, like a pretty bride. you're my sacrifice."

fear tingles your spine, "wait, that was just a dare! i didn't really mean it!"

"doesn't matter. you will be my pearl."

"no! I have a family, a partner—"

"i said... it doesn't fucking matter." he slams his fist against the throne arm, "and you'll be seeing the head of that twat soon enough."

you don't give him a glance before you're turning your back and run down the staircase of the grand temple. careful not to trip, you focus on the flight of stairs, painfully aware of the loud footsteps approaching behind you. it doesn't take a second for Anshumat to pull on the collar of your shirt and slam you onto the staircase.

he sits atop you, lower region heavily grinding against your stomach. "get off me! don't you have hundreds of other options?! why me?!" you scream.

his bedazzled skin blocks your view of the sun, furious eyes glowing under his shadow, and sharp teeth bared into a snarl. "you do not get to leave me again. you will stay, and worship me. this island will be our eternal paradise."

large hands pressing against your throat, you struggle before darkness begins to cloud your vision.

"this time, you will live."

[thegoldencontracts]

I know you’re doing the mountain lovers club anyways, but can I request a scene where the reader very tenderly adjusts Jade’s Bennie as if he is the most precious creature in the entire world 🥺?

AGHHH THID IS SO CUTE NONNIE YOU DELIVER WHOO 🎉

Precious

Summary: Jade is intimidating, yes. But to you, he's the most precious thing in the world.

Notes: Ahhh flustered Jade, so precious aghhhh... Tyy nonnsie once again

Jade was rather used to being intimidating. He didn't mind it, really, he didn't. Intimidation was quite the useful tactic in matters of business and amusement alike.

He didn't mind being intimidating. That was a simple, indisputable fact. He cared not for being fawned over like some child.

So why was it that he looked on with such an odd, traitorous desire whenever he saw acts of care between couples? Why did he long for someone to care for him in such a manner? Was it not the height of peculiarity, terribly irrational behavior befitting only of guppies?

Jade had long chalked the matter up to mete teenage hormones. Yes, this was a side effect of being a human teenager. Nothing more. His brain was above such a childish longing.

It was a childish longing that was currently being terribly bolstered by none other than you.

"Well, I do suppose you're a tad frightened now," Jade said with a laugh. "Really, it's rather impressive how long you've made it without so much as a flinch. I ought to bid you farewell."

"No, no, keep going," you said, with an oddly dopey grin upon your face.

"Well then-" You were staring at him scrutinizingly. Jade sighed, attempting to keep his expression neutral. If you were to be scared off so easily, did you truly have to give him that false hope? "Is something the matter, dearest?"

You just continued scrutinizing him for a bit. Then, your face fell into a lovestruck grin.

Before Jade could inquire as to what exactly you were thinking, you adjusted his beanie, with that look on your face. That look of admiration.

As if you thought he was the most precious thing you'd ever laid eyes upon.

"Your beanie was covering your eyes a bit," you said sheepishly. "I was kinda torn between adjusting it and just taking in how cute you looked like that, not gonna lie."

You were so- caring. As if you thought he was someone worthy of your adoration, your care.

Jade's eyes widened.

"I- er- thank you," he said, hastily turning to the fungi in order to avoid your gaze. You smirked.

"Are you blushing?" You asked, startling him with a poke to the side.

He hastily shook his head.

"Let us move on," he said.

"Don't deny it-"

"Let us move on," he said, more pointedly this time.

So, this was the other side of your affection. The teasing.

Oddly enough, he didn't quite mind.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Hey! I wanted to see if you'd want to do a band!au with marauders . I was watching the kool kids maneskin, Tokyo concert, I couldn't help but think how problematic it actually could be. Something happens maybe someone makes the fem!reader uncomfortable and stuff goes down, everybody's like she's too arrogant and disrespectful and so on. How the marauders defend and comfort her etc with some fluff. Thanks!

You're Strong

Platonic!Marauders x Reader (Minus Peter)

AN: I love this request sm

Cw: 3704

CW: use of {Y/N}, Sexual Harassment, Victim blaming, sexual innuendos, a lot of cussing and shouting

Latex and a shitty cologne seemed to cling to your nose like a taunt, even in the supposed safety of your dressing room. You clung to the small vanity top, trying to rid your nostrils of the foul odor that seemed to cling to you like an unwanted memory.

This wasn’t your first time experiencing something like this, but it was the first since you joined the band.

Back in college, James had gotten on his hands and knees, begging you to fill in for Peter on guitar after their falling out. At the time, you and the boys ran in the same friend group but never really collided- except for Remus, who would write his songs with you.

James didn’t have a clue who you were until Sirius told him you were the one who taught Marlene how to strum. It took some convincing, but after some gentle prodding from Remus and downright devious tactics from Sirius, you finally caved. One song. One gig.

You should have known that wouldn’t have been the case. The moment your first performance was a hit, they practically hounded you around the clock to join them for more. Eventually, after a few failed guitarists, you agreed to go on tour with them.

Never once in the six weeks you had been on the road did you feel unsafe. It was your main concern. You weren’t scared of the boys, but traveling to a new city every night as a girl was a nightmare. You voiced your concerns to them, and they swore they wouldn’t force you into something dangerous. They were always with you at every point- one of them tied to your hip from the moment you exited your hotel room to the second you entered it.

But tonight was different. The moment you stepped on stage, you could tell it wasn’t like your normal performances. The producers had sprung something on James last minute, and you could hear him arguing from behind the curtain while you and Sirius exchanged worried glances.

When James came back, he was red in the face but greeted the crowd with his bright smile. You relaxed slightly, falling into the rhythm of the performance. Then, James introduced two more bands to the stage local to the area. Not just their instruments, but their bloody groupies as well.

The stage was suddenly flooded with people. Men and women danced, far too close. You looked to Remus in a panic, trying to keep your strumming even on your cues. Sirius seemed shocked but into the act, and James continued singing as if nothing was wrong. But for you, the stage had become a personal hell. The noise was deafening, and the people were too close- men grinding on you, women making crude remarks that only worsened your anxiety. It wasn't something you hadn't experienced before. But your boys were there. And they were doing nothing. Sweat and cheap plastic glitter assaulted your senses, making it hard to breathe.

The mix of sounds and overwhelming amount of strangers in your safe space made the stage feel like a claustrophobic nightmare. You tried to focus, to keep playing, but each note felt like a struggle. The safety you had once felt with the band was slipping away, replaced by a rising tide of panic.

Then, a husky smell hit your nose. This cologne you couldn't place, and the smell of burnt latex, as a man walked behind you and grinded on you. But he didn't pass by after, no, he stayed and pressed his entire waist against your back. You felt like you could heave, but instead of sobbing like you wanted to, you lashed out in anger.

You turned and practically snarled at him, your shouts barely audible over the music. “Piss off!”

“Woah, woah woah, no need to be so feisty.” He chuckled as he passed, muttering a simple, “Fucking prude.” as he went.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline surging through your veins like wildfire. The blaring attack of music, shouting, and laughter melded into a disorienting blur. Your vision tunneled, and it felt like the walls were closing in. You tried to focus on your guitar, to find some semblance of normalcy, but your fingers were trembling too much to play properly.

James, always the charismatic frontman, seemed to notice your distress. He made his way over to you, still singing, his eyes filled with concern. He offered you sympathetic eyes, but even then, in his understanding you were even more upset. How dare he not warn you?

James’s presence, usually so comforting, felt like a betrayal tonight. You wanted to scream at him, to demand why he hadn’t given you a heads up about the chaos that would unfold on stage. But you knew this wasn’t the time or place. Truly, you didn't know if he knew either.

Your breaths became shallow and rapid, your chest tightening with each passing second. The stage lights felt unbearably hot, and the noise seemed to amplify, each beat of the drums pounding in your skull. You almost snapped at Sirius, as he slammed the instrument worked in tandem with your throbbing head. The people on stage began to mutter and laugh, you didn't need to hear what they were saying to know it was directed at you.

With a deep breath, you forced yourself to keep playing, though your notes were shaky and uneven. You could see Remus and Sirius exchanging worried glances, sensing the shift in your usually electric energy. James, ever the performer, managed to keep the crowd entertained, though his focus never strayed far from you.

But it was too much. The world around you felt like it was spinning out of control, your vision blurring with unshed tears. Your hands felt clammy, your grip on the guitar slipping. The overwhelming sense of panic clawed at your throat, making it hard to breathe.

The second the fifth song ended, you shoved your strings at one of the other band members before walking off stage. You couldn't do it. You couldn't even think clearly on that damn stage, let alone play. The need to escape, to find a quiet space where you could breathe, was overpowering.

You made your way backstage, your breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. The noise of the crowd and the band faded into the background as you found a secluded corner, sinking to the floor. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to ground yourself, feeling the cold, hard floor beneath you.

As you sat there, the adrenaline began to dissipate, leaving you feeling drained and exhausted. The panic attack had taken its toll, but in the quiet of the backstage, you could finally start to piece yourself back together.

You stormed off to your dressing room where you were now, finally allowing yourself to break down.

You had never had a panic attack so publicly before. Replaying the memory only made it worse, as embarrassment took over the panic remembering how harshly you reacted. But why did you feel guilty?

Suddenly there was a firm knock on the door. You looked at the clock and winced. Did they stop the show early? Fuck.. your poor fans.

You didn't answer, you never did. Walking over to the bathroom to splash water on your face as you heard the door open.

“The hell were you thinking, James!?” Sirius’s shouts filled the room and you shook your head, cleaning off the makeup you now made a mess of.

“I didn't know it was going to happen! They sprung it on me too, Pads!” James shouted and Remus huffed.

“You should of said no, James.” Remus scolded and James waved his hand dismissively.

He walked up to your bathroom door and knocked, leaning his ear against it. “Hey, you good in there, {Y/N}?” He asked cautiously.

You schooled your expression once more before you swung the door open. Looking at the boy in front of you, his sweaty body covered in glitter and giving you a startled look. “Since when did the stage becomes a fucking rave!?” Your voice was loud and you tried to sound angry, but you were on the verge of tears again. Clueless as to why this seemed to affect you so much.

James's eyes widened as he saw the raw emotion in your face. He took a step back, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "I know, I know. It was a mess. I'm sorry, {Y/N}. If I had known, I would have stopped it before it started. Just- they were already in the back when Gideon told us, said it was a deal the producers made to get this place more attention, ya know?”

“Oh sob off with that crap! She's fucking scared, man!” Sirius snapped behind James and Remus scoffed.

“And you're not making it much better, Sirius.” Remus huffed before turning to you with gentle eyes. Ones you were used to, ones that always meant safety. You walked over and sniffed a bit, coming undone easily. Especially when he pulled you into a hug.

Remus rubbed your back and let you ruin his new shredded shirt. His bandaid covered hand slipping behind her head to let you muffle your sobs into his chest.

Eventually, your sobbing stopped, and Remus found himself inspecting you. “Hey..” He whispered after a moment of exchanging looks with the boys. “You're alright, pretty girl.” He cooed and you slowly smiled.

He took the chance to take a peek at you, only to see you smiling brighter at his glance. They had a way of soothing your more erratic emotions, so easily.

“Is she smiling?” James called out in a teasing tone. You rolled your eyes and pulled away from Remus with a sniffle.

“You guys always call me that.” You huffed and Remus laughed. “What? Pretty girl?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the lingering tension. "Yeah, 'pretty girl.' It's like you think I'm some delicate flower, I'm a big girl.”

Sirius grinned, his usual mischievous spark returning. "Well, you are pretty, and you are our girl. Even if sometimes you're abusive." He cheeked and you shot him a glare.

“See? My groupies would have lost their shit at that line. I just get death glares.” Sirius dramaticized as he looked at James who snickered.

James gave a fond sigh, shaking his head. "Well, to be fair, Pads, it just shows {Y/N} has standards."

At that, you laugh and Remus smiled at you. “There she is.”

“Oh stop that.” You gave a small nervous smile and pushed his face to look away. He laughed before he kissed your calloused palm, turning to face you. He gave you one last comforting squeeze before letting go, his eyes still filled with love and gentle concern. "Seriously though, {Y/N}, we never want you to feel like that again. We need to make sure our performances are safe for everyone, especially you. Trust me, we were shit without a guitar.”

You rolled your eyes fondly but let his words seep in. Knowing he truly meant them.

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit more grounded with the boys around you. "I appreciate it, really. Just... next time, let's make sure there are no surprises, okay?"

James nodded earnestly. "Absolutely. No more surprises. We'll make sure everything is run by you first. You're part of this band, and you deserve to feel safe and respected."

Sirius threw an arm around your shoulder and gave you a squeeze. “Yeah, I mean, if you weren't here we'd just be a bunch of dudes jerkin it.”

You gave him a slack jaw at his crude remark, before Remus rolled his eyes.

“Something tells me you wouldn't mind that, Sirius.” James laughed and you quickly shooed Sirius’s arm off of you.

“You two talk like virgins and it's starting to become sad.” You huffed. “But I'm ready to go back on stage. It's been a hot minute now.”

James barked a laugh and you looked at him surprised. You hit his chest and he held your hand with a playful wince. “Sorry, sorry, just trying to imagine going back on stage after Sirius busted that bastard’s lip. I don't think the show is still on.”

“You did what!?” You exclaimed in shock, turning to Sirius. He didn't look even the least bit guilty, just grinning ear to ear like some damned cat. He shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? No one messes with our girl and gets away with it."

You shook your head, a mix of disbelief and amusement. Not to mention the endless about of affection and safety you felt. "Sirius, you can't just go around punching people."

"Well, I can and I did," he replied with a wink. "He deserved it. Dudes still lucky he has a heart beat."

Remus sighed, though a small smile played on his lips. "Let's just make sure we handle things a bit more diplomatically next time, yeah?"

James chuckled, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “I'm sure {Y/N} has no problems with it-”

Before the quips could continue, suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Sirius huffed and turned to slam it open. “What?!” He boomed and came face to face with a very angry producer.

“The hell are you all doing in here mingling? You have a crowd out there waiting to watch you play!” He boomed. Despite yourself, you suddenly clamed up. Oddly, you were unable to speak. Even as you tried to force yourself, the words felt like they were trapped in your chest. Your breathing increasing.

“We had an issue with a guy on stage-” Remus started and the producer scoffed. “Yeah, we all saw it! That's no excuse! These people paid good money-”

“I-I'm not going back out there.” You finally stammered out. He scoffed at you and Sirius tightened his jaw.

“I'm sorry, princess, please continue to believe the world revolves around you. But do that on the stage?” He pushed and you choked out a scoff.

“He-”

“Isn't that what you kids do? You party hard you have fun, can't blend those two together?”

The producer’s words cut through the air like a knife, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. Your hands trembled as you tried to pull yourself together, but the panic was threatening to overwhelm you again.

Sirius, however, was having none of it. He stepped forward, his eyes blazing with anger. "Listen here, you pompous ass. She was sexually harassed on stage, and you think she should just suck it up and keep playing? How about you show a bit of human decency?"

The producer sneered, clearly unimpressed. "This is a business, Black. If she can't handle the heat, maybe she shouldn't be on stage."

Remus stepped in, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Sirius’s fury. “Sir, I think that a discussion needs to be had about our safety on stage before any of us return to it.”

“I refuse to work like this.” You challenged again and the Producer scoffed.

“Listen, kid, everyone deals with stuff like this in show biz. Don’t be arrogant.”

You took a shaky breath and tried to still the next shiver that rocked through you. Again, your words were gathering in your throat like film. “No-”

“Kid.” The producer spoke more sternly this time.

James had been standing quietly, his fists clenched at his sides as he listened to the exchange. But the producer's dismissive attitude was the final straw. He stepped forward, his usually bright and cheerful eyes now dark with anger.

"That's enough!" James's voice rang out, startling everyone in the room. He pointed a finger at the producer, his hand shaking with barely contained fury. "How dare you speak to her like that! She's not just some performer you can push around. She's our friend, our bandmate, and she deserves respect! If you want this fucking band to work how about you worry about that freak in the back with the bloodied nose? Get him the fuck outta here!”

The producer opened his mouth to retort, but James cut him off, his voice growing louder. "You think this is just showbiz? You think it's okay for someone to be harassed and then forced to keep performing? What kind of person are you? I promise you, if she wasn't overwhelmed enough as it is-”

"James-" The producer began, but James wasn't done.

"No. You don't wanna listen to her, you're gonna listen to me. We've put up with a lot of shit from you. But she is where I draw the line. Is that understood?”

James's outburst left the room in stunned silence. The intensity of his words hung heavy in the air, and even the producer seemed momentarily taken aback. But the anger in James's eyes was unyielding with that fire and familiar protectiveness he held for everyone, but it seemed to be focused purely on you.

The producer, clearly flustered, tried to regain his composure. "Look, James, I understand you're upset, but-"

"No, you don't understand." James interrupted, his voice steady but seething with controlled rage. "This isn't just about being upset. This is about basic human decency. You don't get to treat her like that. Any of us! If you can't guarantee our safety and respect, then we're done here."

Sirius had a moment where he stared awestruck at James. Clearly proud. “What the big guy said.”

Remus nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving the producer's. "James is right. This isn't negotiable. If you can't ensure our safety and treat us with respect, we're not stepping back on that stage."

The producer, now visibly shaken, tried to salvage his authority. "Okay, okay, let's not get hasty here. I-I'll talk to the guy and make sure he's removed from the venue. We can... we can make some adjustments."

James took a step closer, his demeanor still tense but slightly more controlled. “Good.. bloody good, yeah.” He sighed and rubbed his temple. “Now-”

“Get the fuck out!” Sirius shouted over James as his tone turned polite.

The producer mumbled something under his breath before he gathered what little pride he had and ran off.

You stood there shaking slightly, taking deep and steadying breaths when the door closed. James looked back to you and his eyebrows knit together with worry.

“Hey, sorry.” He cooed and muttered your name. Walking over only to give a soft ooph as you crashed into his chest with a tight hug.

This felt right. This felt safe.

It hit you why everything was crashing on you so hard. You have always been so strong, so determined, so ruthless. When the boys came along they smoothed out your edges with so much gentle care you forgot at times you needed to protect yourself.

Though, relying on them wasn't something you found unpleasant. You had been so strong all the time you forgot what it felt like to rely on someone. Let alone three practical guard dogs.

“I'm sorry you had to do that.” You whispered and James absolutely melted at the tender tone.

“Nope. You're not allowed to apologize for that.” James whispered and pulled you close and firm against him. You hummed and nuzzled your nose into his neck a bit. Not embarrassed to come undone in his arms.

“I'm still sorry. I hate to see you so upset…”

James sighed, his voice softening. "Seeing you upset is what makes me upset. Still debating going to give him another piece of my mind. I mean, who the fuck talks to someone like that?"

“James.” Remus warned and he huffed, nuzzling his nose into your hair. Finding comfort with you so close.

Safe.

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away, not wanting to let the emotions overwhelm you again. Sirius and Remus moved closer, forming a protective circle around you.

Sirius placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his earlier anger now replaced with concern. "You're alright, yeah? Come on, I hate seeing pretty girls cry.”

“Fuck off.” You choked out and Remus chuckled, rubbing your back.

Sirius gave a small, genuine smile. "That's the spirit. Just wanted to see a bit of that fire back."

You couldn't help but laugh through your tears, feeling the warmth and safety of your friends surrounding you. Remus continued to rub your back soothingly, his touch grounding you in the moment.

James pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You don't have to be strong all the time, {Y/N}. We're here for you. Always."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "I know. And I appreciate it. I really do. I just... I wasn't expecting any of this tonight."

Remus gently wiped away a tear from your cheek. "I sure hope you weren't. It shouldn't have happened." He muttered, a bit guilty. Having seen it all go down and fighting every bit of himself not to move. You seemed like you had it handled- he didn't want to make a mockery of your strength. But when you left crying he almost screamed.

Sirius clapped his hands together, his usual mischievous grin returning. "Alright, sad sacks, enough of this sappy shit. Let's regroup, grab a drink, and figure out our next move. And if anyone else messes with our girl, they’ll have to answer to us. And I'm feeling high strung after Jamie’s lil proformance."

You smiled, feeling a newfound sense of strength and determination. The boys had your back, and you knew you could face anything with them by your side.

James nodded, his eyes still filled with concern but also a glimmer of hope. "Let's take a breather, all of us. We’ll decide what to do next, but for now, we need to make sure you're okay."

You took another deep breath, feeling the weight of the night slowly lifting. "Thanks, guys. I really don't know what I'd do without you."

Remus gave you one last comforting squeeze before letting go, his eyes filled with love and gentle concern. "You won't ever have to find out."

[buckys-little-belle]

Hiiiii I really love your whole Tumblr it's really comforting I really loved the one you wrote I think it was called just feelin little with bucky and steve and it was really comforting because I don't fully regress other thank cuddling up at night with my blanky and a theeter shaped like an oreo

If your comfortable writing something like that with Eddie Munson like maybe a little that doesn't even understand what that is and one day at he notice that the reader is having a hard time and kinda swoops in and helps. Thanks for listening even if you don't write have a good day (or night :)

Chomp Chomp

Eddie Munson x Little!Reader (They/Them/No pronouns used)

Warnings - Eddie helps the reader regress, use of teethers, use of a comfort blankie, talks about being stressed, talks about de-stressing, reader goes into a state of "disassociation" basically they are very stressed and just stop replying to Eddie's questions, very very vague mentions of that though, a bit of angst, but mainly self-indulgent fluff! (Also I made the teether one of the frozen ones but I'm now realizing that's probably not the kind you meant! So I apologize!)

Notes - I wrote this in a different perspective than I usually do. I just need a break from the more "formal" writing style I usually do and I hope that you like it!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW!

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

. ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ .

Eddie knew that you age regressed before you really understood it yourself. He'd taken note of how you sleep with whatever soft blanket you could find at night time, how you often found yourself chewing on ice before bed, and and you'd act like, what you called "snuggly", and what he called "small".

He didn't want to scare you with the big title of "age regression" all at once. So he slowly began incorporating more "classic" age regression tactics to your nightly routine without you realizing it at first.

Instead of a glass full of big ice cubes you'd bite in half, he gave you a plastic cup full of small bat shaped ice cubes. They were easier to chew on, and he liked knowing the cup wouldn't shatter if you dropped it.

Then he bought you a small soft grey blanket at the thrift store. He washed it and made sure it smelled like him before he gave it to you, giving you the impression that it was just laying around somewhere instead of bought for a specific reason.

It became your "Nightie blankie", you nicknamed it and Eddie was once again sure of your regression, or at least partial regression. You slept with it every night, snuggled to your chest, the soft material tickling your chin as you slept.

After a few months of just those two new things he added in a fun nightlight so he could finally turn the bathroom light off. You thought it was cute, it projected a small smattering of stars on the ceiling and it often lulled you to sleep.

Next though, the next step was a little harder to get you acclimated with. "A teething ring?" You asked, holding the small thing in your hand. "It's cold?"

"I put it in the freezer, there's gel inside that gets cold." Eddie reasoned. "This way you don't have to eat so much ice before bed, you can just chomp on this." He gave your forehead a kiss before making the bed. Hoping that if he acted chill about it you would be fine with the new addition.

"But it's for babies?" You grumbled.

Eddie stood up with a huff, his hands on his hips. "Do you like it?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

You took a quick chomp, liking the way the frozen thing felt like ice but wouldn't make you full of water or your hands wet. "I don't know."

"Just try it for tonight, if you hate it I'll give you your ice back." He said it so plainly, like he hadn't given you a kids toy to chomp on.

You ended up enjoying your teether, chomping on it was much easier than eating ice, and you liked the little charms that were attached. It was calming, and Eddie didn't think it was weird, and you trusted him on it.

A year later, with all of your new regression tools in place bedtime seemed easier. Eddie had brought up the idea of age regression a few times, but always in a passive way.

He'd put cartoons on and say things like "Doesn't this make you feel like a kid again?" and "I wish I had some toys to play with." when things got boring at the trailer.

You didn't really understand that he wasn't really feeling like a kid while watching the tv shows, or wishing for toys, he was seeing how you reacted, seeing if you were maybe an age regressor outside of just bedtime.

He didn't push it but he got you a few stuffies, and kept cartoons on often. He didn't want to force you to regress if you didn't need it, or seem to be interested, and you didn't really seem to regress all that young. You seemed to drift to an unknown age that liked teethers, blankies, and night lights, but also liked to humm Metallica songs before bed. You were different, and he enjoyed it.

One day though you seemed on edge. Stressed about something that he couldn't fix, something you couldn't seem to get over. You began worrying him when you sat on the floor and just sort of stared off into space. You weren't panicking anymore, you weren't coping.

So he thought that maybe some regression would help you work through the big emotions in a safer way. So he grabbed your blanket and placed it in your hands, you immediately began to fiddle with it, but still didn't respond when he tried to talk to you about why you were stressed.

So he then turned the lights off, grabbing the small nighlight and brining it to the living room. Now instead of staring off into space your eyes drifted along the ceiling as the stars moved around.

Last but not least he grabbed your teether, placing it in your hand. Like you did at bedtime you began to chomp on it, and Eddie smiled.

"What's going on, baby?" He asked, taking a seat next to you.

"Jus' chomp, chomping." You replied with a soft smile.

"Yeah, and why do you need to chomp chomp?" He said in an animated voice.

Slowly you began to tell him what was bothering you, and slowly he helped you solve the problem, letting you use your regression and comfort items to help keep you calm and collected instead of distant and despondent.

You didn't regress often outside of bedtime, and you didn't really seem to regress to a certain age, but Eddie understood what you needed, and he helped you in his own subtle ways.

[feefivefoe]

Would reader ever play favorites to turn them on each other? Because if I was in their shoes Jason would 100% be my fave, he noticed reader when no one did even if it was a little, and sure he didn’t come around when he got his memories back but poor baby was working through some stuff. Anyways would reader make her favorite obvious just to upset the others and also kinda use their favorite as a guard dog to keep the others away at times?

It's not even an intentional manipulation tactic, honestly. Of course Jason is the favorite. He's the only one they have any history with, and while they have no issue with Damian until after the kidnapping, they aren't insanely close.

He's the only one they'll openly talk to, or spend time with, or show any affection to. And like I mentioned at first, it takes a while for Jason to work with him family rather than seeing them as another threat to you.

Sure, he cares about them, even if he doesn't say it out loud once. But they openly hurt you for years, and didn't do a damn thing about it, didn't even REALIZE, until he blew up at them.

And now they wanna just waltz into your life again? Like hell he'd give them the chance to hurt you again. Fine on using their admittedly much more secure home as the place to keep you, but he isn't leaving you with them permanently, and he sure as hell isn't helping them get into your life.

It takes a while, with a lot of resistance on his end, to get him to come around to the idea that they meant it, and that it wasn't going to fade out like getting a puppy on Christmas.

Then it becomes hard to play the favorite card. Because even while they all desire their own one on one bonding time, they are a family unit. And that's what they want you to join!

Only when the basic boundaries are being violated will they step in to stop one of them. Like that one time you woke up to Dick just watching you sleep with practical hearts in his eyes.

You don't think you'd ever screamed so loud, causing the rest of your family to practically break the door down.

They spent almost half an hour yelling at him over it.

They all still watch you sleep every now and then, but at least they have the decency to do it through a camera and not being there, scaring the shit out of you.

They'll bicker, but they won't turn on each other.

On a lesser note, the favorite with preen, almost strutting around with the title while the others sulk. They'll do you little favors and skirt rules to gain your favor, by bringing you something like a fast food craving, or by smuggling you a music player that can't connect to the internet with all your favorite songs predownloaded to it.

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

Hi hi hi! Loved ur mk1 sick!reader headcanons, they so silly so cute!

May I request headcanons for hypersomniac!reader? Like they're always tired and sleepy. I mainly wanna see Shang Tsung and Kenshi <3 so feel free to include anyone else you'd like, male or female 🥰

MK1 characters and hypersomniac! reader

(shang tsung, kenshi, kung lao + extra lin kuei trio)

this request was from MARCH um hey... hi... sorry... but im back....requests are open....

Shang Tsung

-He seems like the extremely productive type, so I can’t say I think he’d appreciate someone who is on the more tired side. 

-Will be a gigantic diva whenever you mention it, talking about how ‘he’s been up for thirty hours and hasn’t so much as made a pip!’ 

-Would make all sorts of alarming potions and elixirs to prevent you from feeling drowsy- for the most part they don’t work because he doesn't really know how to make things without lethal side effects (and does not want you to DIE)

-He makes a big deal that he’s going to dissect you or experiment on you if you fall asleep as a scare tactic, and you’ll jolt awake from a sweaty nap terrified that you don’t have all your limbs

-(You are just in the corner of his work space, bundled in pelts and left untouched) (This is overkill on the pelts you are melting here.)

-He turns around and looks at you like WHAT! WHAT DO YOU WANT! NO I DIDN’T EXPERIMENT ON YOU ARE YOU STUPID!! But it is ultimately well meaning… you think?

-In all honesty I think Shang Tsung is the kind to get irritated by constant noise, especially when he’s trying to focus, so if you’re more mellow because of it, he would personally appreciate it. 

-He will exclusively refer to you as sleepyhead or ‘you sleeping lug’ thought i hope you're ok with that

-Will flick your nose if he sees you nodding off

Kenshi

-I feel like he’d be an insomniac, losing sleep because of everything he’s gone through

-Depending on his mood he’d either be irritated or soothed by your hypersomniac tendencies 

-Though because he's an earthrealmer (read: someone with a phone and google) he’d be able to do his own research and realize that it’s something that can impact you too 

-Just like how nights are hard for him, daytime can be a struggle for you as well, and as much as he can rationalize this his head he does metaphorically roll his (late) eyes when he sees you nodding off.

-He feels very chivalrous when you fall asleep against his shoulder so it does get  you good brownie points there

-If someone noisier came in he’d do the super suave cool guy thing where he just puts a finger to his lips and then points at you (would feel very cool afterwards)

-In the event that yall go grocery shopping he will be at the pharmacist counter the entire time asking about vitamins supplements remedies etc and in the end you’ll have a bedside table full of pill bottles that make you feel geriatric 

-Will use you feeling tired as an excuse to leave any social function and will be so happy (you were not fine he was just extremely overwhelmed) ((he hates house parties the floor plan is unfamiliar))

-He’s lived a stressful life and is thankful to take it slower with you

-Until you’ve fallen asleep halfway through a movie and he needs you to describe a scene GET UP I NEED TO KNOW WHAT SWORD THE GUY IS USING IS IT ACCURATE

Kung Lao 

-Takes it upon himself to jumpscare you the moment he sees you dozing off

-He just finds it hilarious, and you DID say you wanted to feel less tired throughout the day!

-Unfortunately he’d be the least gracious about it if you were sensitive about your hypersomnia (even against shang god bless you) but would also never take it to heart

-Maybe the first or second time you fell asleep around him, he’d worry that you found him boring, but once you explain it to him he Does Not Mind at all

-I mean it's The Great Kung Lao how can you NOT feel lulled to sleep safe and sound (completely rhetorical question)

-In all honestly I think your condition might start to change the most you spend around him, either you’d become totally immune to him and therefore ALL noise intervention, or start being more awake

-Would start stacking mahjong tiles on your head, tying your shoelaces together, seeing how much he could do before you woke up

-This means that if you caught him dozing off you have full permission to take his hat and run off to hide it somewhere

-Start the timer, GO! Let’s see how long it takes for him to find it this time! (It’s lodged into the ceiling) ((he will take an hour to find it))

Kuai Liang

-If you are under him in the Shirai Ryu or Lin Kuei, i imagine he would be tough on you like a mentor 

-But if not? He would find you incredibly endearing, always making sure that the places you frequently met in the compound had nearby shade or comfortable seating 

-Encourages you to rest if you are tired, if you want to stop falling asleep, he’ll offer tea

Tomas Vrbada

-Gets scared by you while walking past you since you’re so quiet

-You scared the ninja! Good on you 

-Yells, jolts you awake, then apologizes profusely and then promptly asks if you are interested in becoming a ninja under his tutelage 

Bi Han 

-As long as you stay out of his line of schedule you’re fine

-I too would be pissed if I worked the whole day only to see a sleepy lil guy 

-Yawns whenever you yawn and then yells at you for making him yawn 

[sleepyangelkami]

can I request a Carl x shy reader?❣️❣️❣️

SILENT AFFECTION c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1k

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - carl's shy girl sneaks her way around silently and still manages to be the one to scare so easily. carl makes you hot cocoa to apologise for his scary movements.

 ☆ WARNINGS - shy!reader, lots of physical affection, suggestive if you squint, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

you were quiet, eerily so.

then again, you always were.

carl always told you not to be so shy around him, there was no need for your anxious tendencies when it was just the two of you. after all, you'd endured more than most couples your age ever would in their whole lives.

but nonetheless, you always found yourself shying away from the boy.

though, he didn't necessarily mind.

he adored the way your cheeks turned pink so easily. all it took was a quick compliment, a gentle kiss to the back of your hand or perhaps the top of your head. instantly, you were turned into what he thought vaguely resembled a pink glow in the dark glow stick. he swore that sometimes you genuinely did glow in the dark.

it was a sight that was so refreshing. during the horrors he faced daily, he loved coming home to his sweet shy girl, grinning while wrapping around him like a koala.

you were shy. but always affectionate.

it was what led to the many accidents.

being so shy, you were often quiet. this could be mistaken as sneaky at times. the boy would be in the middle of something, head bent and his hand on top of his hat. he'd wonder about whatever it is he was looking at, deep in concentration and how would he ever hear the low pitter patter of your sock-covered feet against the tiled floors.

it was damn near impossible to expect when you were coming. you'd simply scared him by wrapping your arms around his torso too many times. you did it when he was out in the garage, looking over the weaponry, or perhaps he was in the kitchen, not knowing you'd moved from the living room and wrapping your arms around him only when the hot coffee was inside his hands almost leaving him to drop it on the both of you.

luckily, he was a lot more coordinated than you were.

you, on the other hand, were the exact opposite.

you scared like nothing he'd ever seen before.

but he was always so careful with you. he found himself walking towards the kitchen, seeing you drop the warm milk into the mug tactically and slowly. you had a knack for spilling things so you used all your concentration to make sure that the hot chocolate you were making didn't end up on the ground like the last time.

you'd practically cried when carl was on the ground, sweeping up the remains of your mug. you felt so awful, making him do such a thing for you, as though he were a peasant. he'd only laughed at you softly, squeezing your knee and assuring you that it was okay.

carl would do anything for you, that included sweeping up whatever you spilled next.

softly, he knocked on the door of the kitchen, alerting you of his presence. he thought this was for the best, this way you wouldn't get scared when you saw him from the corner of your eye or when he finally laid his hands against the supple of your skin.

but instead, you almost dropped the milk.

luckily for you, it landed straight on the counter with only a little dripping off the side. you jumped from the ground, hand instantly falling over your heart as though you'd seen a train almost crash into you. the look of fear on your face was enough to make carl huff out a laugh at you.

your head snapped towards him, turning a pink colour. "carl." the name rolled off your tongue in a whiny voice, feeling embarrassment flood you at the thought of him seeing you so scared. though, you quickly brushed it off with, "i could have dropped the milk."

he rolled his eyes. "i know, that's why i knocked." he simply had to face it, nothing he did would ever be enough for you not to knock yourself over in fear.

you shook your head at the boy, rolling your bottom lip beneath your top one.

but carl only moved towards you, finding his body coming closer to yours. "you scare so easily." his lips bent down just below your ear. "'s so cute." pressing a chaste kiss to the nape of your neck.

you would have whined, not just for the feeling of his soft lips against your softer skin but because hot pink embarrassment was flooding you like a train. "carl." you groaned out, sticking your head into the chest of his flannel. "shut up." though your voice was muffled through his shirt.

you felt your stomach whirling at the tone he used, calling you cute. it was enough for your head to be reeling and your face feeling hot.

it was so simple and it had you so flustered.

"'m sorry, baby." and that tone, filled with fake sympathy that had you turning away from him, knowing your face was too hot to look at him. he only placed his hands on your waist, making matters even worse. "c'mon, i'll make you hot cocoa, yeah? to say 'm sorry."

you didn't let out a verbal response, mind too coated with the fact that his hands were against your waist, simply nodding dumbly while he reached over to grab the hot milk that had been in your hands before. he was pushed so close to your body and he knew exactly what he was doing.

it almost made you mad, knowing that he knew exactly how flustered you were.

he knew your eyes were strained against his long, pretty fingers gently pouring the liquid. and he knew why.

instead of saying anything, you snuggled into the boy.

this was your best way at getting away with your flusteredness. he always cooed at you, smiling softly as you dug your head into whatever nook and cranny you could find, hiding from his stare in the nape of his neck.

your best chance at a hideaway.

and cozy, too.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[mxtantrights]

Oyendo la canción de nosotros dos

a/n: anddddd we've got a part two. damn. I'm really down bad.

this takes place six months after the first part. still following then fix-it Fanon I've got going on: Armando didn't kill the chief, he's working on reducing his jail time, his and Mike are trying to get their father/son shit together.

SIX MONTHS LATER

The bullets whizzed past you at the speed of light. You were never scared when dealing with things like this. Being shot at, having slim chances, the odds probably being stacked against you at this very moment.

But this feels different.

All those other times you didn't have anything to lose.

Even though, you don't have anything to lose now. At least you don't think so.

You reach over your shoulder at the open wound. You wince as quietly as you can with all the pain you're feeling. The blood wasn't coming out as strong as before but you still needed to get out of here and get treated.

One of the guards shooting at you tells his men to halt. The bullets stop and you can hear the casings rolling onto the floor. You hear them reload their guns. You close your eyes.

"If you tell us everything you know, we can make this less painful for you." the guard yells out.

You hardly believed that. And even if you did, it didn't secure your freedom. You weren't about to turn on anyone to save your own ass. You never done it before, why start now?

"Come out with your hands up." the guard shouts at you.

Not gonna happen.

You quietly check the gun in your hand. You have about half a clip left. You'd have to be wise. Get a couple shots in, grab another gun from one of them. Mark an exit. Get the hell out of dodge.

"You asked for this. Light her up-" the guard yells.

"Wait hold on, are we seriously not gonna try to get the information?" another voice asks.

You know that voice. You'd know that voice anywhere. That's Marcus.

"Can you shut the hell up?" another voice says.

Mike. That was Mike.

You let out a shaky breath. Right then you start smiling to yourself. You reach up to touch your lips in disbelief.

"The two of you done?" the guard from before asks.

There's a long beat before they answer quickly.

"I'm done. You good?" Marcus asks.

"I'm good. Let's light it up." Mike says.

And all at once you hear gunfire again. You know it's them. You can hear the grunts and groans of the other guards. And you can hear the bodies falling to the ground.

The guard in charge yells that the two of them are traitors and to fire on them. You jump up and try to assess the situation. Mike and Marcus have their masks off. Great that would make it easier for you to know who not to shoot.

You take out four men quickly and duck back down. Your arm roaring in pain.

The adrenaline is wearing off. The gun fire is still going off when you hear a loud sound. You turn around to find the source. The locked gate behind you, no longer locked.

There he stood in all his glory. Armando.

In his own version of a tactical suit. His arms are out and he's not wearing a mask. You can't believe how happy you are to see him. You hold onto your wounded arm and get off the floor.

It happens quickly.

As soon as you're standing with your back straight, you feel another shot go through your shoulder. It almost knocks you off your feet.

You watch Armando's eyes go wide. His hand was already on his gun. So the next thing you see is him line up a shot behind you and take it.

Then he's right in front of you. His hands on your hips. You think to yourself that this is the first time he's touched you. With intention. You hold onto his arms as you steady yourself.

"There's a car waiting, come on." he says.

You nod your head and walk in lock step with him. Well, you try your best.

As soon as you reach outside, the hot sun and the humidity of it all hits you. And you don't feel your feet walking anymore. How could you?

Armando sweeps you off your feet, right into his arms. The switching of positions for your arm hurts. You muffle a groan and hold onto him with your good arm.

He jogs over to the Jeep, and opens the door without having to move you. Then he's laying you out in the backseat. He's quick to shut the door and get into the driver's seat.

That's when things get blurry. You don't quite remember what happened after that.

Armando does. He drove like a bat out of hell. Weaving bullets and other cars. Trying his best not to get you hurt in the process.

He could see your eyes drooping in and out. He had adjusted the mirror as soon as he got into the car to keep an eye on you. He tried talking to you, to keep you awake.

You barely answered him. Only in half mumbles and soft hums.

Once he was in the clear he headed to the safe site the feds had provided. There was a medical team waiting on him when he got there. Mike or Marcus no doubt called it in.

He got out of the car as the medical team opened the backseat and started working on you. One of them lifted you out of the car as another readied a stretcher.

There was a mask over your face. A needle being injected into your wrist with an IV bag attached to the other side.

Armando made sure to keep up with the team rolling you inside but not get in their way. His heart skipped beat when you got shot. He saw it happen but he should have prepared for it.

Why didn't he think of it?

The medical team rolls you into a makeshift room. One of the federal officers keeps Armando out. He can see though the plastic tent though. So he stands there, with his arms crossed over his chest.

Hoping he had brought you here in time. Hoping that he didn't just watch your last moments.

-

2 WEEKS LATER

You adjust the sling on your shoulder as the prison guard tells you the visitor rules. You're half wanting to just tell him it's a conjugal visit to get him off your back.

But you nod and verbal agree to follow the rules.

The guard opens the door with several keys. Which you think is pretty excessive, but you say nothing about. You watch as he opens the door and parts to let you in.

You thank him and walk inside.

He's in his cell, on the floor. He's doing push-ups. You could laugh. Mike said that you'd probably catch him during his work out. Apparently it's one of the only things he likes to do in his cell.

He no doubt heard the door open. Why he didn't stop was beyond you.

You clear your throat and he stops mid-way. He pushes off the floor and faces you. He stops in his tracks, almost like he wasn't expecting you.

Well, it's not like you called ahead to let him know you'd be here.

"Hi." he says.

You're taken back. You weren't really expecting him to just say hi to you. He did after all save your life. You thought he'd rub it in your face, or make some quick remark about you owing him a favor.

You don't know why just one word from him is making you nervous. With a quick swallow down of the lump in your throat you walk a little closer to his cell.

"Hey." you say back.

"How's the arm?" he asks.

You look over at the sling that currently resides on your arm. You roll your eyes.

"I could've done without being shot and this totally ruins all my outfits but I'll live." you joke.

You can see the start of a smile on his face. You take another step closer. He leans against the gate of the cell, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm glad. But what exactly brings you here?"

You clear your throat, "I never got to thank you. For saving my life. I woke up in the hospital and you weren't there."

"I'm sorry. I had somewhere to be." he points around the cell.

You snicker a little, "I know. Which is why I figured I would do you a favor."

"You don't have to-" he starts.

"I want to."

He smiles fully now, looking you up and down. On purpose. You have no doubt that Armando can look at you fully without making it look obvious. But then again, it wouldn't be him.

"What'd you got in mind, querida?"

-

THE NEXT NIGHT

Armando is sitting in the booth all the way in the back of the cafe. You, with your sling over your leather jacket, walk all the way to the back. Your good hand carrying the file folder.

You slide into the booth, trying you best not to let out a wince at the move. Some things were still hard for you. Even though physical therapy was going well.

"Shit I didn't think about your arm, we can sit somewhere else." Armando says, already trying to get up from his seat without asking.

"Oh sit the hell down. I'm already sitting." you say.

He sits back in his seat without another remark. Which makes you wonder why but you rationalize that it's because your injured that he's going easy on you. You guess the sling isn't that bad.

"I've got a way for you to finish off the rest of your sentence." you say.

You slide the folder over the table to him. He look at you then the folder. Then he takes the folder and opens it. His fingers flip the pages, his eyes scanning them rapidly.

"coches, armas, drogas...this won't be easy." he says.

You tilt your head, "I didn't think you'd back down from this. Well, if you want maybe I can snag a few lower tier cases. Might take us a while to get you out but..."

He looks right at you then In your eyes.

"Us?" he asks.

You give him a credulous look, "That's what I said."

He hums. His eyes return to the file.

"You're still in a sling. How's that going to work?" he asks.

"You'll be muscle and I'll be brains." you answer.

The corner of his lip curls upward into a smirk. You can't help but smile at him. To stop yourself from smiling too much you reach for the glass of water.

You bring it to your lips and take a few gulps.

"This party that the target is going to be at is tonight. Who's doing recon?" he asks.

"You and me. My contacts are a bit hesitant to work with me in public." you comment.

Armando rolls his eyes, "That's not loyalty."

You shrug your shoulders and wince at the pain in your shoulder. Yes you got shot, no you weren't used to remembering that you couldn't use your shoulder like normal.

"Careful." Armando says.

"I understand why they don't wanna stick their necks out. I mean German let everyone know who I was." you reply.

Armando puts the file down. Completely. And he looks directly at you then.

"You should have gotten your way. I'm sorry about that."

"Not your fault. Just the way things happened. Besides there's always a chance I could." you say as you look out the dinner window.

The cars driving past on the local expressway. You had chosen this place to meet because of the distance from your target. Far enough to not draw any suspicion but close enough to get the job done.

"Still wanna killl him?"

You sigh, "thinking about it."

-

You don't know how you find yourself in these types of situations. Fresh off an injury and here you are, facing gunfire again.

The shattering of glass from the bar makes your heart race.

And that's when it happens. Everything around you goes in slow motion. The thousands of pieces of glass falling to the floor from the divider between you and the gunmen.

The strobe lights over head that cut between the dark. Flashes of pink and blue and green and yellow litter your body in different styles. You raise your hands over your head to protect it from the glass.

Not even a second later, Armando is grabbing you. He's tugging you down onto the ground, underneath a table. What he doesn't anticipate is how much weight he has to him. The both of you go tumbling to the floor.

He's laying on top of you. He cradles your head in his arms as the shots keep ringing out. You feel like you're in a movie or something. It can't be real.

You cannot be on the floor in the middle of a shootout and the only thing on your mind is Armando. Yes you found him attractive before but this is something different. Something a bit stronger.

He's pulling you up by your good arm and hauling ass out of the club.

The two of you work without saying anything to each other. You send some shots back to keep the two of you covered while Armando works on getting the two of you to a safe spot.

That's when you finally say something.

"The van. Make a right!" you shout.

Armando takes a sharp turn. The two of you run all the way to the middle of the street where the van is parked. You left it unlocked just incase things went south. How thankful you are for your contingency plan.

You and Armando let go of each other. You flank left tot he driver's side and he goes to the passenger side. Both of you open and close the doors at the same time.

With a quickness you grab the keys from the overhead compartment and put them in the ignition. As soon as you hear the engine turn over you punch the gas.

-

You hear Armando close the motel door behind you. You let out a sigh of relief as you fluff up your hair, trying to get the pieces of glass out.

"You got hurt." you hear him say.

You turn around confused as hell. You look down at the front of your body but you find nothing. Sure the mini dress you're wearing is torn at the sides but there's no blood. And you don't feel any pain.

Armando softly grabs your arm and maneuvers you to the bathroom. Not that you needed to be maneuvered any more tonight by him. Your brain couldn't handle his hands on you so much like this.

He flicks the light on and positions you in front of the mirror. He turns you to the side and holds your arm out so you can see it.

You can see the three small shards of glass sticking out of the back of your arm. You didn't even feel it. Huh. Must be all the adrenaline.

Before you can make some smart joke, Armando is checking you for any other injuries. Like actually checking you. He scans you with his eyes and lightly pats you down.

In your head you wonder how that worked for him. Was he going to feel the injury or see the blood on his hands?

"Get on the counter." he says.

But he's really not saying it like it's a request. It's an order. And you don't feel like disobeying at the moment. Your voice might betray you.

So you slide onto the counter.

He reaches underneath you into the counter. He pulls out a red box. First aid kit.

Armando opens the box and takes out all the supplies. He curses in spanish at the lack of them. Three alcohol pads. Two bandaids .An aspirin.

He motions for you to offer you arm. In order to do so, you have to turn a bit to the side. He crowds your space then. Turning the sink on and washing his hands. His face just a few inches from yours.

The sink turns off and then he looks right at you. Like in the eyes.

"I'm gonna take the glass out. No tweezers so bare with me." he warns you.

You can only nod. He gets the alcohol pads and bandaids ready, passes them to you so you can give it to him when he's done.

His thumb and pinter finger dig out the first piece of glass. Which isn't that bad. It's a small chunk, not that much damage. He drops it into the sink.

When he goes for the second chunk, you wince. It makes him stop.

"Lo siento, espera." he says.

He goes again. You shut your eyes and happen to lean your head down on the only surface in front of you and that happens to be his shoulder. He digs and gets the piece in between his fingers.

"Perdon, Perdon, just a little more." he whispers.

He pulls it out and you let out a groan. You can hear the chunk land into the sink. You don't have to see it to know it's big.

"Last one?" you ask.

"Si, estas haciendo bien." he answers.

You wince again when he nicks the piece with his fingers instead of grabbing it. But he grabs it after the first try.

"Respira," he says.

You take a deep breath in. And when you exhale he takes the piece of glass out in one pull. You ram your head even further into his shoulder.

He throws the final chunk into the sink. You open your eyes and move your head so that you can look at him. You're out of breath from the pain.

But you're still lucid enough to hand him the alcohol pad. He warns you in advance that it's going to burn but you don't really know how much until you feel it. The sting makes your body go rigid.

He has to hold onto your waist with his free hand to keep you still. He wipes down the cuts.

"Dame la tirita." he says.

You grab the bandaids and hand them over to him. He chuckles to himself at something. You're not sure what. But you can feel the warmth from his hand on your waist. It's making you more woozy than anything else.

You pick your head up from his shoulder.

"I didn't think I'd end up out of breath in a bathroom with you, but que sera right?" you joke.

He looks at you then, with a smile. The bandaids still in his hand. He doesn't say anything. He just smiles at you and then shakes his head. Like you never even said anything he goes back to placing the bandaid.

"This is the third time you've saved my life." you say.

He shrugs his shoulders like it's a normal thing. His fingers press the sticky sides of the bandaid down into your skin. You can feel his thumb brushing over it.

"Nothing smart to say?" you ask.

He shakes his head, "I know when to shut up."

"Yeah like when you were in the hospital with me after I got shot?" you ask.

He looks at you a bit taken back. You remember how he was only able to spend two nights there. After that he had to be brought back to his cell.

But oh how fun it was to hearts voice talk about meaningless things just to keep you company. Like how you may have gotten shot but one time his mom was cooking with oil on the stove and the pop of oil against his skin hurt worse.

"You remember that?" he asks you this time.

"Most of it. I was pretty loopy. But I got bits and pieces. Before you had to leave." you answer.

He hangs his head then. You wonder why for a moment. but he doesn't let you wonder for too long when he answers your unspoken question.

"So you heard my stupid schoolboy confession." he says.

Which was not what you were expecting. Because you definitely did not hear him confess anything while he sat by your bedside. On one hand you feel bad about letting him reveal it to you now when you didn't know.

But on the other hand... it does feel good to know that whatever your feeling isn't one-sided.

"You never said anything." he adds on.

You snap out of your thoughts. Okay, you couldn't let him think that you knew before this. His head is hung low like he's ready for rejection.

"That's because I didn't know." you answer honestly.

His head picks back up. He looks you in the eyes now. You can feel it in your belly.

"mi gran boca estúpido..." he mumbles under his breath. But because the two of you are the only ones in the small bathroom.

Deciding to take the man out of his misery you reach up slowly with your closest hand. You can feel the stumble growing on his cheeks and the sharp line of his jaw.

"I like your big stupid mouth." you say.

A smile creeps onto his lips. And you can't help the way that you end up smiling.

"Yeah?" he asks.

You nod your head slowly, staring to close the space between you two. You can feel his breath on your lips. The way his eyes flutter down to look at your lips drives you crazy.

"Yeah."

Armando closes the space between the two of you fully. Your lips meet in the middle. It's not a clash or a crash. It's gentle. Something you weren't expecting from him.

Then again, he defies you're every expectation.

You bring your arm up to wrap around his neck but you wince. Finally remembering that your arm was supposed to be in a sling. He pulls away from you all too quickly. You don't like it.

"Stop pouting, you're hurt." he says.

"I'll just take the aspirin. You can go back to what you were doing." you tease.

He hums a response to you. His lips chasing yours once again. His hand that was on your arm travels to your hip, where his other hand never left. You lean back against the bathroom mirror, and when he pushes against you to kiss you deeper you feel the heat in your chest.

You're really glad he decided to be a smart ass the first time you met him.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Steve Rogers

Summary: It's only your first day on the job. That's way too soon to have an office crush. Right?

Warnings: Workplace stress and bullying. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

A/N2: Shorter chapter but it does move the story forward, I promise!

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

True to his word Steve refrained from overtly interfering with your boss again. Instead he switched to more covert tactics, building a case to take to Nat in HR. Not just the excess time Margaret spent on things other than work but also the emails and messages that could be construed as threatening or bullying.

He was relieved to see you had made a couple friends. Blossom and Spitfire definitely took good care of you. They were also a good excuse to not talk to you. He didn't want to disturb you and your friends. At least that's what he kept telling Bucky whenever you were brought up in discussion.

But Bucky wasn't having it. "Look, let me and Sweetie help you, okay? I'll ask her to come to the party and we can be your backup, okay?"

Steve's face is pink with embarrassment. "I shouldn't need help. And you should focus on having fun with Sweetie."

"And yet," Bucky shakes his head, "you clearly need the help. Just make sure to wear a better costume than last year, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve nods. "I'll wear my biker gear, okay?"

"Excellent choice! We'll have the two of you exchanging numbers in no time!"

The party couldn't be going worse. Steve had been maintaining his distance, just watching you have fun, while everyone except you tried to flirt with him. Then Bucky and Sweetie arrived but apparently Steve had misread their relationship and Sweetie had stormed out, Bucky chasing after her. And while he was distracted by that, you and Bubbles had gone missing!

In desperation he approached the Double G's asking if they'd seen where you'd gone to.

"She left with Walter," Geralt informs him. Steve's heart drops.

G smacks Geralt in the stomach, "bad trick." Turning to Steve he adds, "the Powerpuff Girls are escorting Walter to the security desk."

Steve almost faints from relief before he heads to the desk. He wants to run but restrains himself to a fast walk, he doesn't want to appear too desperate. Right? He won't lie, seeing Jake and his family really kicked Steve's heart into gear, reminding him that he does want such things for himself, but he'll never get them if he doesn't try. He doesn't want to get too far ahead of himself, though. He's just so scared because you're so lovely, so smart, so strong and seem to be everything he could ever want but he's likely to scare you away because he's not sure he'll be able to hold back. One step at a time, he chides himself.

He hears a bunch of giggling as he steps out the main entry and stops, caught completely off guard by the sight of Walter in a dunce cap. The two men lock eyes for a second before Walter quickly pulls off the cap and gives Steve a look that says "you saw nothing!" Steve nods in agreement as you and your friends turn to look at who got Walter's attention.

Your heart flutters a bit at seeing the big, tall, handsome blond in a biker getup. Rumor was he did have a motorcycle but you weren't sure this was confirmation. Still, the leather looked good on him. Bubbles pokes your ribs, startling you a bit, before Spitfire chimes in, "you need some help?"

All I can get, Steve thinks. "I, um..." he walks up to you, "I was worried you'd left the party already."

"You...you were looking for me?" Your voice quavers a bit.

"Yeah, um...I just..." Steve takes a deep breath. "Would you like to go out some time?" His words come out in a rush and it takes you a few seconds, and another poke in the ribs from Bubbles, to realize he's asking you out.

"I'd love to!" you almost yell out. You cringe at your overly-enthusiastic response and compose yourself before saying, "that sounds wonderful."

Behind you Spitfire and Bubbles high five, making Steve blush and smile in relief.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly

[kerubimcrepin]

LIVEBLOG: Wakfu Season 4, Episode 8 [PART 2]

Our guy is finally starting to understand how bad things are. <3

I think what he hates the most (after teleporting one singular time) is how this makes him lose his face. The #1 thing Joris hates the most, always, and forever, is appearing weak or unprofessional.

Yeaa lmao, everyone except for him has immediately oriented themselves in the portal, while he's struggling with the process and the landing...

Joris is way too confused to even begin being mad at this shit. Like ok. This is happening now.

I think the reason he isn't mad at this later is that it's a logical decision to [grumble, grumble] support a member of their party who was [deep sigh] struggling with teleportation for their common good as a team. Even if it was him.

The voices in my head compel me to screenshot him more.

I think Joris said this because he heard Yugo wonder if it's a trap and Yugo's opinions are very important to him <3 He's just like "man Yugo was right. 😑 as he tends to be when he's not being blinded by emotions. [is himself blinded by emotions as he is saying this]"

Joris is probably starting to get mad at Ad by now, but once again, "ughh I guess carrying the guy with the teleportation sickness, while we are all being chased by an eldritch horror, is logical... fuck's sake..."

I could write a novel about how good Toross is at randomly guessing Joris's insecurities and hitting them like every button on the keyboard.

He literally put the meaning of "You're 3ft tall, and I don't really take you seriously, and also the juxtaposition of all these three words diminishes your serious air of adulthood. You look a bit pathetic and boring, btw, despite all the expensive clothes and earnest airs. You're compensating very hard for something you don't have, and I can see that. :)" into two lines of dialogue.

And then he also uses the scare tactic of "btw I can see your Wakfu. And you are very good prey. Because you're a prey animal here. Did I mention I was going to eat you." (and also, unknowingly, this is striking at Joris insecurity #2: people learning information about him and, god forbid, perceiving him.)

AND the finisher is "however you're not good enough to be the main dish and I don't give a shit about you."

Loving Joris's little pout here. A very cute and balanced reaction to psychological warfare. Despite Toross hitting multiple good attack points, he only shows a little bit of seething on his face (but probably enough for Toross to know this got him a reaction. <3)

OF COURSE the guy whose feelings were insulted the most goes immediately after Adamai. He's so transparent about being mad, it's so funny...

When given swords, he literally fights like Atcham. [starts throwing up blood everywhere] Yeah no, no, I'm fine. Ignore me.

Of course you'd be good at dodging magical projectiles, and using your front paws to help you with jumping and standing while keeping your spine low to the ground (to avoid hits and get ready to jump/run once again). Where did you get these moves from? Your uncle? 🤣

He's so maddd.

Yeah he is mad, but also he is his usual calculating self: trying to get close to him to find any possible weakness, while trying not to show that it is, in fact, what he is trying to do. He is locked in.

Cat behaviour once again. Looking like a wild animal is a normal thing for him to do.

You see: for Joris, this is revenge for all the shit this guy said — and also a way to prove his worth as a human being, despite the fact that all those things Toross said are true. If he acts like he is cold and calculating and useful, nobody will know that it actually bothered him. His status as someone thick-skinned and heroic will be proven.

(He learned the "circle them to try and get closer while they're busy shooting you, and then attack them from the back" method from Atcham too, btw.)

[onefourone]

GOOD (Part 1) — next part

simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

warnings: none

There were many words people would use to describe Ghost. Determined. Rough. Resilient. Tactical. One thing he'd would never call himself is soft. There wasn't anything soft about him, both physically and mentally.

That's why he struggles with the way you treated him. You're good to him. Too good. Your sweet whispers and gentle touches... the way you look at him like he was the most precious jewel you'd ever seen. It was too much. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve you.

He didn't deserve the way you'd greet him at the door after coming home from a long tour. You give him a kiss — so soft, like you're scared he'll break. He was finally able to shed 'Ghost', revealing the soft belly of 'Simon' beneath the shell.

You herd him into the bedroom, pushing him to sit onto the plush bed. He can't stop the emotions that claw up his chest and throat when you kneel in front of him. There was no heat in your gaze, you knew he was too exhausted for anything like that right now. He had to close his eyes when you began looking up at him with pure reverence as you unlaced his boots. It was too much.

His tried to hide the tremble of his hands by clenching them in the sheets beneath him. You slowly made your way up his body and helped him out of each piece of clothing. It wasn't until he was in nothing but his boxers that he finally opened his eyes to look at you.

Your expression makes his breath stutter.He waited for your expression to morph into disgust, his scars rendering him ugly and undesirable. When it never came, he allowed himself to relax even further. Your eyes held nothing but love and devotion.

He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't—

He's snapped out of his brief spiraling when you gently order him to turn onto his stomach. He eyes you curiously, huffing a bit when you laugh.

"Just trust me, Si."

And he does. He does trust you. More than anything or anyone. So, he follows your order like the good soldier he is. He hears you open the small drawer on the side of the bed. You retrieve a bottle and bring it to his line of sight. Massage oil. He begins to protest, telling you that you don't have to do this.

You don't have to touch him. Ugly, scarred, disgusting—

The way you shush him is firm, but not unkind. You stroke a hand down his face, still covered by his mask. You don't make any moves to touch him yet, ready to back off if he truly isn't in the right headspace for this. He turns his head to look at you, ignoring the strain on his neck from the uncomfortable position. There you were, perched up on his back like an absolute angel. He stared into your eyes and once again looked for any traces of fear or disgust. When he found none, he nodded gently and allowed himself to lay back down.

You let out a please sound and popped open the cap. He shivered involuntarily when you made contact with his skin, the oil cool from the AC being on. He let out a please groan when you immediately began digging into his sore muscles and tight areas.

His mind felt so amazingly silent. For the first time since he left, there were no angry voices and disturbed thoughts. There was nothing but you, your hands and the bed beneath him.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake, he felt the exhaustion finally catch up to him once again. He tried to fight it, he really did. He hates going to sleep before you. He felt like he was failing to protect you. You weren't being fair, though, with how magical your hands were.

Sleep began to swirl around his brain before ultimately spreading across his body. He vaguely hears you making a pleased sound at this before darkness claimed him.

"I love you."

You whispered those words into the air, continuing to rub the oil into his back until he was fully asleep. Once you began hearing the soft snores rumble out of his chest, you smile and gently climb off of him.

You glance at him once again to reassure yourself that he was asleep before going into the drawer on your side of the bed. You pull out a small box, opening it to reveal a black band with gold trimmings. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth (a bad habit he'd surely scold you for indulging in if he were awake). You glance over the sleeping man, feeling anxiety threatening to overtake your entire being.

What if he says no? What if he doesn't want you? What if—

You clench your eyes shut, trying to silence those nasty thoughts. Your hands quiver as you place it back in the drawer. You took a deep breath to help calm your nerves. You take another look at him next to you, smiling at his sleeping body. You nod to yourself, feeling a hot wave of determination flood you. Tomorrow will be the day, no matter what happens. You won't ever forgive yourself if you never ask.

[c-bunnee]

would caramel love a chubby darling?

CARAMEL 😭 my caramel boy omg

📝 ×

Carmel pretty much doesn't care about your size— you could be too small or too big for him, he'd still keep you. As long as you behave like his pretty little thing.

One significant thing that makes Carmel a different lover from the rest is that he shuts off his sense of self whenever he's with you. It's as if his mind is just filled with you and nothing more. He'd be a great lover for those who are too scared to love in fear that they'll judge them.

Carmel may be a lunatic, but he loves everything about you, and he especially loves it when you hug him and everything feels so much warmer than it usually does. He also loves it when you sit on his lap then actually put your weight on it. He would wrap his thick arms around you, play with your belly and give you neck kisses.

Carmel is an observant man; whenever you feel insecure or something close to it, he'd simply give you kisses on your cheek.. it's a tactic he uses so that you'd tell him what's wrong. It works too well.

Bonus! Slightly 🔞 vanilla shit, I think.

While you're bent over, Carmel has this steel grip around your waist because he specifically loves bubble bellies and loves how it feels on his fingers. It drives him in a crazy rut that he'd just push your head down and lift your ass up with his nails digging on your skin.

Another thing, he likes it when you put him in a headlock when he eats you out.

AU: as someone who's chubby, this was comforting lol. Let's just forget the fact that he caged you and pretend he's stable.

PS: I might be dropping a new character soon along with Carmel's bot (chub or moemate)

PPS: I'm sort of struggling with my carpal tunnel so I'm sorry for the lack of art :')

PPPS: do you guys like nsfw art? 👀