#the other thing I wasn't able to stop joking about was when we were at the animal ER on Thursday night

[rulesforthedance]

We are picking up Henry's ashes from the pet crematorium on Friday and I was saying something to N about how we were going to get Henry but he wouldn't look like Henry, and then the dog came over and showed me his belly and I started thumping it while saying "they crisped my boy! They crisped him! A crispy boy" in a silly voice, and N burst into tears

[flowersforbucky]

moth to a flame

bucky barnes x reader / winter soldier x reader

"I know you. even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

word count: 4.9k

summary: bucky is triggered into the winter soldier during a mission and then goes MIA, until he seeks you out in the middle of the night.

warnings/tags: SMUT, canon divergence (bucky hasn't been successfully deprogrammed in this), kind of dub-con, language, some violence, reader is afab, no use of y/n, friends with benefits situation, angst with a happy ending, 18+ only

“You've reached Bucky. I can't answer the phone right now but leave me a mess–”

You hang up before the voicemail recording finishes. You already knew he wasn't going to answer, just as he hasn't answered any of the other thirty-something times you've dialed his number over the course of the last few days. Or read any of the two dozen text messages.

The messages had stopped delivering and the calls had started going straight to voicemail almost two days ago at this point. And yet you still got your hopes up every time you checked your phone, only to be met with gut-wrenching, nauseating disappointment.

It had now been three days of this - not to mention picking your cuticles until they bleed, flipping back and forth between every news station on your TV in hopes (and fear) of seeing his name, a few collective hours of sleep each night, and too much Red Bull.

Just when you were thinking about trying to kick your caffeine addiction, too.

Three days of feeling completely and utterly helpless.

You place the phone back down on your coffee table, staring down at the thick, white cast encasing your left leg from your foot to just under your knee.

Useless.

You knew you were doing what you physically could - the spread of laptops and tablets on the table in front of you continuously supplying data from facial recognition programs across the United States.

Realistically, you knew he could be on the other side of the world by now, but that didn't stop you from checking. It was the only thing that you felt you had any control over right now.

But it wasn't enough. Not when Steve, Sam, Natasha, Sharon, and every other currently able-bodied team member are out scouring every safehouse and known former HYDRA base in the tri-state area while you're holed up in your apartment with a fractured fibula and a brain that won't let you stop reliving the moments before he went missing.

“This is as straightforward as it gets,” Steve re-assures you both for what felt like the dozenth time that day. “You'll be in and out in no time.”

“So straight-forward that you're going to hang back here while we do all the dirty work?” You joke as you make the final adjustments to your parachute.

“We've been monitoring this base for months,” he reminds you. “This place is as abandoned as they come. Get in, get the intel from the database, and get back to the jet.”

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Bucky adds with a devious grin.

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Steve agrees.

If only things had been as simple as he had expected.

You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the moment that you and Bucky landed on the ground outside of the HYDRA base. You told yourself that you were being irrational - but you couldn't shake the looming feeling that something was going to go wrong.

“See?” Bucky says after removing the USB drive from the computer. He sticks the device in the breast pocket of his tactical vest before edging you towards the desk. “Easy-peasy. You've been worried for nothing.”

“I have not been worried,” you deny, leaning against the edge of the desk. “This place is just old, and smelly, and creepy.”

Bucky takes a step closer to you so that there's no space left between you. He places his hands on the desk on either side of you, enclosing you.

“You think that I can't tell when you're nervous?” He says quietly, studying your face. You can smell a lingering hint of cool mint from his mouthwash. “That I haven't spent enough time learning your body to read you like an open book?”

Your thighs clench together and your nipples pebble at his words. You're almost embarrassed at how easily his voice, his scent, his closeness elicits a physical response from your body. Almost.

“What I think,” you murmur against his mouth. His hands come to grip your hips as he nudges your thighs open, standing between your legs. “Is you're crazy if you're thinking about trying to fuck me in an abandoned HYDRA warehouse.”

He exhales a dramatic sigh. “You can't blame me for trying.”

“I am relieved to know that you'd even want to do that here,” you say, hopping down from where you're perched on the desk. “I really think that shows you've processed your trauma–”

You're cut off by the room going completely dark. Every light, every computer, turns to black.

Bucky's flesh hand instinctively reaches to grab your wrist in the dark, tugging you to him.

“What the fuck,” he groans under his breath.

“We need to get out of–” you start to state the obvious but close your mouth when the computer that you and Bucky had retrieved the data from turns back on.

And then a computer to the right - and then across the room - and another to the right - and one to left - until every computer is on and showing the exact same screen. Bucky's hand grips yours so tightly that it borders on being painful.

Displayed on dozens of screens throughout the room is the face of a man. A man who you've never met, but recognize immediately.

“Zola,” Bucky whispers almost inaudibly.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Zola addresses him with a perverted smile. “Welcome home,” his voice pours from every computer speaker throughout the room and echoes off the walls.

“Steve?” You whisper urgently, clicking on the communication device hidden in your ear. “Steve, we've got a prob–”

“There's no use in that,” Zola interrupts you. “It's too late. They're almost here.”

The following sixty seconds were a jumbled blur that you were still trying to piece together in your mind.

You remember hearing the stream of words spoken in Russian.

Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.

You remember Bucky screaming at you to run, the sound of Steve's voice in your ear telling you that back-up was on the way and asking a dozen questions that you were too overwhelmed to respond to.

Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.

You remember begging Steve to hurry. You remember pleading with Bucky to come with you to try to get away; pleading with him to just look at you, just stay with you, help is coming -

Benign. Homecoming. One.

You remember the moment that Bucky went completely still as the room was infiltrated by HYDRA agents.

Freight car.

You knew that Bucky wasn't there anymore. You could sense it in his stance, in the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, in his silence.

Before you could say anything else to him, close to a dozen HYDRA agents came barreling towards you both. He charged through them, taking down one after the next with ease, until there were just a few left standing.

It was a side of Bucky you'd never seen. You thought that you had witnessed his strength, his agility, his determination, his ruthlessness working beside him in this field - but you then saw just how much he had been holding back.

He fled past the remaining few, out the door and down the hallway of the warehouse. The agents turned to follow him, forgetting about you - until you threw a knife directly into one's neck from behind.

Another agent shot at you, the blow hitting your bulletproof vest and sending you flying backwards onto hard cement.

Before you could catch your breath, there was a sharp cracking noise and a blinding pain radiating from your lower leg - but it was short lived.

The last thing you recall is the man's boot swinging towards your face.

You woke up some number of hours later, in a hospital bed with your temple throbbing and leg elevated in a cast.

“Hey,” a soft voice calls from your right. Natasha stands up from the singular chair in the room, both concern and relief evident across her features. “You're okay,” she begins to assure you. “You have a concussion and a fractured–”

“Where's Bucky?” You interrupt her, your voice scratchy. You clear your throat. “Is he okay? Did Steve find him? Did HYDRA get–”

“HYDRA didn't get him. Steve took care of the last of the agents after him,” she stops you from rambling. There's an immediate sense of relief wash over you.

“But we haven't found him yet,” she adds carefully. “Everyone is out searching for him now. You know we won't stop until–”

A gentle knock on your apartment door snaps you back to reality.

You freeze, your heart jumping to your throat. You stand as quickly as you can manage, grabbing your crutches propped up next to you on the couch.

“It's just me,” a feminine voice calls from the other side of the door. Your heart goes from your throat to your stomach. Not him.

“I'm sorry, I should have text you first,” Natasha continues. “But I brought you food. Street tacos from–”

You turn the deadbolt and unhook the chain lock before swinging the door open.

“You look–”

“Like hammered shit?” You finish for her, nodding your head towards the inside of the apartment as indication for her to come in.

“I was going to say exhausted,” she says, walking past you with a large paper sack of take-out food. Your stomach growls at the aroma - when was the last time you ate something more than a bowl of cereal or granola bar?

“Your favorite,” she tells you, placing the bag on the kitchen counter. “Extra salsa verde and lime wedges. Have you gotten any sleep recently?” Her eyes skim across the empty energy drink cans littered around the kitchen.

You maneuver yourself onto one of the barstools at the kitchen's small island, leaning your crutches on the edge of the counter.

“Yes,” you mumble. “For forty-five minutes from 2:30 to 3:15 today.”

She lets out a long groan, rolling her eyes at you.

“You're supposed to be healing from a concussion,” she reminds you, taking a seat for herself. “Which generally doesn't include sleep deprivation and excessive use of computer screens.” She stares in the direction of the array of laptops that overcrowd the limited space of your coffee table.

“Did you find anything in Connecticut? What about Sam, is he back from New Jersey?” You ask, ignoring her concerns as you unbox your food.

“Connecticut was a dead-end,” she sighs. “We're still waiting to hear back from Sam. There's a safehouse up in Vermont that Steve wants to head to tomorrow–”

“You don't think there's a chance of him letting me tag along for that, do you?” You tap the edge of your cast against the base of the island with your foot.

Her eyes soften as she looks at you. You already knew the answer.

“I know this is really hard for you,” she says delicately. “I may not know exactly what has been going on between you and Barnes these last few months, but it's obvious you care a lot for him. We all do. We are going to find him and bring him home,” she assures you.

You nod at her in agreement, not quite trusting your voice enough to speak.

Your eyes sting as you attempt to blink away the tears that threaten to spill over. You had yet to allow yourself to spend any time crying these last few days and you didn't wish to start now.

Her words remind you that no one knows exactly why you are taking Bucky's disappearance so harshly. You assume that your friends have their suspicions about your and Bucky's arrangement but the two of you had agreed to keep it between yourselves.

They didn't know it had started off being a weekly occurrence - late Sunday evenings, your apartment. Or how it had quickly escalated from once a week to twice, and then from two times a week to three - and instead of just your apartment, it would happen anywhere the two of you had a private (and sometimes public) moment - up against the wall of the communal showers at the compound's gym, in the back of the Quinjet after missions while everyone else would be sleeping on the flight back home, even during team meetings with his hand creeping between your thighs while you try to stay quiet enough to not draw any attention to yourselves.

They didn't know you were supposed to be friends with benefits but that at some point during the days and nights spent underneath one another, the line between friends and something more became blurry for you.

You had just been too chickenshit to tell him.

Natasha sits across from you as you inhale the Mexican food that she brought you. She doesn't say anything else, just keeps you company in a comfortable silence as you eat your first legitimate meal in days.

“Thank you,” you tell her as you're finishing your food. “I appreciate you. I've been going a little crazy here by myself,” you add meekly.

“Of course.” She stands back up. “I would stay longer, but I've got to prepare for Vermont. We're leaving early in the morning.”

“Be safe. All of you,” you remind her. “Let me know if you guys find anything. Just tell me if there's anything at all I can do. And please let me know when you hear from Sam–”

“You'll be the first to know when there's anything to know,” she assures you gently.

“Thanks, Nat.”

“You just try to get some rest, okay?” She requests as she walks toward the door. “Maybe drink some water, possibly consider taking a nice, long shower…”

“Goodbye, Natasha.”

She's chuckling as she closes the door behind her.

You lower your nose to your armpit as soon as the door clicks shut, inhaling.

Maybe she makes a valid point about showering.

Half an hour later, there's a heavy rain beating against the windows of your apartment when you finish bathing. You secure a towel around your chest before yanking off the garbage bag that you had wrapped around your cast well enough for you to rinse off.

Belly full and body clean, you felt somewhat better; at least physically.

You listen to the rain pound down as you sit on the edge of the bathtub, massaging lotion into your skin, and wonder where Bucky is right now - if he's safe, if it's raining wherever he's at, if he's somewhere dry -

You come to a sudden halt in the middle of brushing your teeth. It's hard to tell over the deafening roar of the rain and your bathroom fan, but you could have sworn you heard the creaking of a door or window from your living room.

I double checked the door locks after Nat left, you rationalize to yourself. This apartment is on the fourth floor, no one is going to climb the fire escapes to–

There's an unmistakable shadow visible through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. It's gone as quickly as it appears.

Shit. You start to panic as you realize you left your cell phone in the kitchen. As quietly as you can, you look around the small room for something to defend yourself with. A hair dryer, dental floss, a few week’s worth of dirty laundry..

You hear the creaking of floorboards as footsteps seem to creep closer and closer to the bathroom door.

Crutches. You have two crutches. You can clobber them with your crutches.

“I can hear you,” you call to whoever is just beyond the door. “I know you’re out there.”

Silence. No hint of any further movement.

You place one crutch under your left armpit for support, keeping the other one ready to wield as a weapon. “You have ten seconds to get out of my apartment,” you say a bit louder, willing your voice not to waver. “I have a weapon.”

Yeah, a weapon. If you can call it that.

Ten seconds come and go, followed by another ten seconds.

You weren’t going to let someone play this game with you in your own home.

Taking one last deep breath and tightening your grip on the defense crutch, you sling the bathroom door open quickly.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, immediately relaxing your weight against the crutches, releasing the death grip that you had on your uninjured side.

It’s dark in your bedroom save for a few pale orange string lights hung around your bed frame and the light that spills in from the bathroom, but you would recognize his broad frame anywhere.

“Thank fuck you’re okay,” you exhale, swinging yourself over to where he stands at the foot of your bed. When you’re a little over a foot away from him, you realize he’s sopping wet - his hair dripping water droplets and his skin dewy. His clothing, the same clothing that you last saw him in three days ago, clings to his body like a second skin.

He remains still as a statue, and as silent as one.

“Are you okay?” You ask him apprehensively. You give him a once over, from head to toe. You don't see any noticeable injuries, but he is trembling.

“Bucky?” You ask in a small voice.

His lips are set in a hard line. He doesn't answer, just stares at you. Stares at you like he’s trying to figure out why he’s here.

Stares at you like he’s trying to decide if he knows you or not.

The immense relief that you had felt at knowing he's alive is washed away by a sinking feeling.

His eyes trail from your face and slowly down your towel-clad body. He pauses when he gets to your foot, glancing back and forth from your cast to the crutches on either side. His brows furrow together - almost like he's in pain.

“I'm okay,” you assure him in a shaky voice. “It's just a fracture,” you explain. “I'll be healed in no time.”

You notice that his features relax a bit at your words - just enough to give you hope that Bucky, your Bucky, is in there and he's listening to you.

Do whatever you have to do to keep him here. Don't let him out of your sight. Help him remember who he is, your inner monologue screams at you. Just don't let him run away again.

“Are you cold?” You ask him. You're not necessarily expecting him to answer, you're just trying to put him at ease. “How about we get you some dry clothes?” You add, nodding towards his drenched henley.

You retreat into the bathroom, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he'd left over the last time he had stayed the night - the night before he went missing. They were at the top of the laundry basket - maybe not the cleanest, but better that the wet, dirty clothing he's in currently.

You limp your way back over to where he stands at your bed, leaning against the mattress for support. You set your crutches down and hand him the shirt and pants, which he hesitantly accepts. He makes no move to remove the wet clothes from his body, instead gently places the dry clothes onto the mattress beside him.

“Would you like some help?” you offer cautiously, terrified of doing anything that could cause him to run. You slowly reach towards the clothing that he had just placed on the bed, but he stops you before you can pick the t-shirt back up - grasping your wrist in his vibranium hand.

You can’t stop the small gasp that escapes past your lips. His hold on you is firm, but not painful. You could rip your hand from him if you wanted to - but you don’t.

Instead, you let him hold your hand as he begins to rub his metal thumb in a circular motion next to yours. You’re frozen; watching him carefully as he examines the movements his metal digit makes on your skin.

The goosebumps that appear in the wake of his touch don’t go unnoticed by him. His eyes trail from where his hand holds yours and up the expanse of your arm, until they land on your exposed neck. The towel covering your midsection has started to come loose, hanging low enough to reveal the top of your breasts.

He drops your hand, taking a step closer to you. You have to remind yourself to breathe - your Bucky is in there. Your Bucky, who is gentle, and soft, and would never do anything to cause you harm.

You have to trust that.

He brings his vibranium fingers up to the edge of the towel, trailing them across the mounds of your breasts. Your nipples harden right away, visible through the thin material of the towel.

You would let this play out however he wants it to. However he needs it to.

When his index finger stops where the towel is tucked into itself at your side, you forget how to breathe. He pauses for a split-second before unhooking the cloth and letting it fall to your feet.

He drinks in the sight of you bare before him, his jaw clenched and pupils dilated.

Dozens of times he has seen you like this, and never have you felt so completely vulnerable under his gaze.

And still there's a slickness gathering at the apex of your thighs.

He brings his flesh hand to your waist, putting the faintest bit of pressure against your skin. You close your eyes at the sensation - he's barely fucking touching you and you could melt into him.

Your name falls off of his lips - it's barely even a whisper, nearly inaudible but unmistakable. Your name. He remembers your name.

“Bucky,” your voice cracks when you whisper his own name back to him. His eyes snap up to yours, a mix of realization and hesitation brewing in them.

You bring both of your hands to the tail of his wet shirt, giving him time to pull away before you start to tug the shirt upwards. He doesn't stop you - in fact, he raises his own arms to help you tug the soaked fabric off of him. You toss the shirt in the general direction of your bathroom.

You didn't think there would ever come a time that the sight of him getting naked for you wouldn't make you want to drool.

You unsnap the button of his tactical pants, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time, hyper-analyzing his expression for any sign of reluctance.

You dip your fingers past the waistband of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand travels lower.

He's already fully hard as you hold him, stroking him as best you can from inside the confines of his underwear and pants. You pump him in your hand and his head rolls back so that he's looking up at your ceiling.

Fuck, it takes all the restraint you possess to resist leaning forward and sucking on his neck.

Another time, you tell yourself, anxious about overwhelming him.

He curses under his breath - something in Russian that you don't recognize but the expression on his face indicates it to be a praise. There's a shift in his initially reserved, unsure demeanor when you begin to pump him faster.

His head snaps back down, his eyes raking up and down your body once more before he brings his hands to your lower back, maneuvering you against the bed.

You scoot until your back comes in contact with the cool satin of your pillows, relaxing into the bedding. At last Bucky begins to shed the layers of wet clothing covering his lower half, not taking his eyes off of your body as he removes his boots, followed by his pants and boxers.

He kneels on the mattress, crawling above where you lay. You want nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and pull his mouth to yours, but you are going to let him call the shots.

He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, nestling himself between your legs. He grasps your breast in his vibranium hand, giving it a firm squeeze before rolling your nipple between his icy fingers.

He lowers himself so that he's belly down on your mattress, his face inches away from your pussy. He removes his hand from your breast and you let out a small whimper of disappointment at the abrupt lack of sensation. He uses that same hand to hike your uninjured leg over his shoulder, securing his head between the soft interior of your thighs.

He kisses you, starting at your belly button and working his way to your center. His lips feel like fire against your skin. You keep your hips planted firmly on the bed, fighting the urge to thrust your pussy up to his face.

“Please,” you whine. “Bucky, please.” You swear you can see the faintest trace of a smirk that looks so undeniably Bucky.

You clench your thighs around his face and he lets out a low, guttural groan as his mouth makes contact with you.

Normally, Bucky closes his eyes while he's going down on you - gets completely lost in it. Right now, his eyes are wide open - making sure he doesn't miss the way your mouth gapes when he rolls his tongue around your clit and the way your chest heaves when he nudges his tongue inside you.

You don't know which you find hotter.

You can already feel the tightening of a coil in your lower belly, making it impossible to resist rolling your hips to meet the torturous pace he's set with his tongue. You grind against his face, the thin layer of stubble that's grown across his jaw since you last saw him scratching against the sensitive flesh around your cunt.

You're approaching your climax when he pulls away, making you mewl at the loss of contact. His face glistens with your slick.

He flips you onto your side, placing you on your left side so that your injured leg rests against the mattress. You prop your head up with your hand as he slides in behind you.

His chest presses against your back, the heat of his body warming you all over. His flesh hand juts between your thighs, raising your right leg high enough for him to slap his cock against your pussy.

He strokes himself in his hand while he teases your folds - lubricating himself with your juices.

You turn your head to look at him right as he sheaths himself inside you, filling you entirely in one swift motion.

Fuck, you have to taste yourself on him. You can't handle not having his mouth on yours for another second.

You tilt your head back enough to connect your mouth to his - every worry you once had about coming on too strong and overwhelming him melts away as he opens his mouth for you, moving his lips against yours in an effortless rhythm.

He starts slow, quickly working up to a rapid pace as he repeatedly slams into your cervix from the sweetest angle. The sounds that you're making for him are pornographic - moaning into his mouth as his flesh hand comes around your front, landing on your engorged clitoris. He rubs languid circles while he continues to pound into you from behind.

You pull your lips away from his when you feel your orgasm building. “You always make me feel so good, you know that?” You ask him breathily, your mouth now right next to his ear.

“Every time you fuck me, I'm more sure that no one could ever compare to you. You've ruined me for everyone else. There’s only you for me.”

“Fuck,” he curses and groans your name again - it's the closest he's sounded to his normal self, which only spurs you on.

“I’ve become so fucking addicted to you in such a short amount of time,” you say in between moans as the head of his cock hits your sweet spot just right. “Think about you anytime you're not near me, drives me fucking crazy.”

He flips you - doesn't pull out - so that you're now underneath him. He goes right back to the same brutal pace, bringing his flesh hand to cradle your face as he stares down at you.

Clarity - you recognize it plain as day on his features.

He gives you a few more fast, hard thrusts before you're milking his cock through your orgasm. You crash your lips to his and he's coming - filling you up with his warm seed as he kisses you senseless.

He gradually stills inside you, his body going limp on top of yours as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, peppering kisses across his scarred shoulder, where flesh meets metal.

“I'm so sorry if I scared you,” he murmurs against the sweat-slicked skin of your throat after a moment. “I wasn't myself. Not even entirely sure how I ended up here - it's like I was pulled in this direction - to you,” he sighs.

You're overcome with such an immense relief at hearing him speak that you could cry. You tighten your hold around him, rubbing your hands up and down his back.

“You could never scare me, Bucky,” you assure him. He pulls out of you, rolling off of you onto the bed beside you and tugging you to his chest. Your cheek rests just over his heart.

"I know you. Even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

♡♡♡♡♡

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thanks for reading! as always comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated!

[withahappyrefrain]

Unraveled- Bob Floyd

Summary: Bob Floyd likes to think he can keep it cool. Then along comes a sundress.

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, so much pining, language,

Bob Floyd didn't like to brag, but he considered himself pretty dang smart and sensible. 

He knew the ins and outs of every jet he has flown. Hell,  he could break it apart and put it back together again within a few hours, if that.  He was able to quickly assess a situation, weigh the pros and cons, and come to a sound decision. It’s why he was the top WSO for the mission in Miramar. 

So why has a piece of fabric thrown him for such a loop? 

All Bob was trying to do was be polite. You had mentioned taking an Uber to the Hard Deck tonight and Bob knew the polite thing to do was to offer a ride. After all, he wasn't going to drink. You would save money. It's what any good friend would do. It had absolutely nothing to do with the crush he had been harboring since your first debriefing. 

He was just trying to be courteous. The gentleman his Mama worked hard in raising. Getting to spend time with you, without the other members of your shared squadron around or loud music, wasn't even near the forefront of his mind when he made the offer. Bob was just trying to be a good friend. A good friend who just wanted to help. A good friend who was forcing himself to look at you through a platonic lens, not a romantic one. 

Bob liked to think he was doing pretty well at that. 

That is, until a dress came along and unraveled him. 

Perhaps you said hello when you opened the door.  You probably did, considering how polite you were. But all Bob could focus on was the way the fabric of your dress hugged your curves. 

And what little fabric there was. He had seen you in civilian clothes before. But never anything like this. His mind absolutely went blank when you hugged him and he could feel how much of your bare skin was exposed. Due to the halter style of the straps, nearly your whole upper back was now perfectly visible.

“Um you-you look um nice,” Bob barely got out. He was too busy trying to burn the feeling of your soft skin into his brain. You were warm, like a walking ray of sunshine. 

“Thanks! I got it yesterday and I figured with the weather being so nice, today was the perfect day to wear it!” you said, giving a little twirl. Bob tried to focus on the pattern of dress; how the green brought out your eyes. 

But all he could focus on was the curves of your body, now being highlighted. The way the halter style made your breasts swell and the lack of a bra very apparent. How the fabric stopped at the top of your thighs when you spun, giving Bob a peek of what he often thought about late at night. 

This was bad. 

“I take it you came early to watch an episode of Love Island before we leave?” You asked as he stumbled walked in.

The truth was, Bob wasn’t a fan of reality TV. But he watched because it gave the two of you a chance to talk to one another. Just as friends, nothing more. When watching the silly show, you two could make jokes, talk about things other than work. 

“Yeah! Ready to watch hot people make poor decisions again,” Bob said with a nervous laugh. The joke failed to put him at ease. If anything, it reminded him that he was about to spend at least forty minutes with you and that did not include the drive to the Hard Deck. 

“You’re using my tagline!” your smile lit up your whole face. Bob was certain it could light up the whole turmac. All he could do was nod, his heart fluttering when you grabbed his hand, leading him into the living room. 

"I have some kettle corn in the microwave for you! I also made cherry seltzer water!" Bob could feel heat rush to his face. You always remembered the little details that no one else seemed to pick up on; that he loved salt but had an even bigger sweet tooth. How in an attempt to cut back on soda, he switched to sparkling water. His favorite flavor was cherry because it reminded him of cherry coke. 

"Did you see the video I sent you?" You gently squeezed Bob's hand as you two sat down. 

"Y-yeah. You're absolutely right, having three otters would be my dream." Ever since learning about Bob's favorite animal, you had sent him every otter-related video you came across while scrolling the internet. You even got him a pair of Otter socks for his birthday.  It was the fact you paid attention to seemingly minor details that made Bob fall head over heels for you. 

But alas, you were a coworker. The problem at hand wasn't whether it was allowed, ‘incest’ (as Jake unfortunately called it) happened all the time in the Navy. After all, there were only so many things you could do on a ship before switching to people. No, it was the potential issues that came with dating. Rejection being the main one. Bob had no trouble believing you and he could be professional should you two date and it not work out. That happened all the time. What worried him was rejection. Having to go to work everyday and put on a facade, that things were fine. When deep down, he knew he'd be heartbroken. And even worse, he'd no longer have your friendship. 

So Bob settled, as he often did when it came to love. He took comfort knowing he'd still have you, albeit as a friend instead of a partner. That should be more than enough. For the last few months, he had convinced himself that it was enough. 

But God was it difficult when you bent over right to grab the remote. 

The hemline of your dress inched upwards, showing off the backs of your upper thighs and- 

he could see the swell of your ass. He could see the flash of red lace. Your skin looked so soft and supple and you were so close he could just reach out and- 

Oh God he was hard. Oh no. 

This was bad. Worse than that time he popped an erection during sex ed in middle school. There, he at least had a jacket and a desk to cover it. 

But here? He was a full grown adult and San Diego’s seventy degree weather didn't give him any additional layers. Bob looked around, desperate for something, anything, to hide his cock that was currently straining against his jeans. 

Thank fuck for your love of decorative pillows. 

He grabbed the closest one, shaped and designed like a pomegranate. You were so excited the day you picked it up from some Facebook Marketplace deal. He had driven you, partly out of wanting to spend time with you, partly because he wanted to ensure you were safe. It was adorable and definitely shouldn’t be used for nefarious purposes, such as hiding a boner. This was wrong, so fucking wrong.   

Bob was trying to think of anything and everything that would kill this boner. But his spot on the couch aligned perfectly with the entranceway of the kitchen, where you currently were, rummaging around to fix Bob a drink. 

What ever happened to doors? Why were people so opposed to doors? Doors were lovely. You could close doors. Every time he tried to think of something, you were right in his line of view, turning every thought into something more devious. 

His family? His family would love you. If you two got married you could make  your own family. 

Work? You worked with him, in that damn flight suit that clung to your every curve. No one else could make that god forsaken green fabric look good.  

School? God, you were so smart. The top of your class. And witty, always ready with a clever, underhanded comeback. It’s how you two originally bonded, both having muttered something about Jake under your breath. 

Bob Floyd was screwed. Thoroughly. 

He tried to comfort himself with the fact that soon you two would be watching people in their early twenties making the dumbest decisions over dating. If anything were to be a boner killer, that had to be it. He just needed to make it through then. 

“Bob?” Your lithe voice broke him out of his thoughts. Not that it was much of a reprieve, with the way you were standing at the kitchen entranceway with a glass of sparkling water in each hand, “You good?”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m great!” He said with an all too eager nod, desperate to convince you this was truly the case. Fuck, you were so beautiful. And you were showing so much skin. He had seen you on the beach before, adorned in athletic shorts and a sports bra. But this was different. 

The dress was far too nice for the Hard Deck. No, you deserved to be taken to a nice restaurant, one with a lovely outdoor patio. The image of you sitting on a lovely chair with a glass of wine in your hand came easily to Bob. It was also the perfect dress for a picnic, particularly at the nearby park, specifically in that little secluded area. God, the idea of you laying down on a red and white checkered blanket, the hem of your dress pushed up your thighs as he leaned over you, ready to take you-

Bob leaned forward, clutching the pillow as he tried to will himself the strength to get it together. 

“Bob? Are-are you okay?” You quickly placed the drinks down on the coffee table, rushing over to kneel in front of him on the couch. 

Oh what a sight that was, you looking up at him with big eyes, full of concern. Your hands were on his biceps, and Bob knew if he looked down he would have the perfect view of your breasts. 

 It was so hot and also the very last thing Bob fucking needed. 

“I’m good. Stomach doesn’t agree with what we had for lunch, that’s all.” Lying was never good, his mother instilled that in him at an early age. But in this scenario, Bob was certain the truth was much worse. 

“I’ll go get you a ginger ale!” Bob opened his mouth to protest, though no words came out due to seeing not only the tops of your thighs, but a flash of your ass as you spun around to go back into the kitchen. 

For a few seconds, the  supple, plump flesh was so close to him. Practically within arm’s reach. 

Maybe he should just leave while you were in the kitchen. 

But that would be rude. Not only rude, but it would raise your suspicions if they weren’t high already. Plus, he had already promised you a ride to the Hard Deck. He couldn’t just leave you hanging, not after you brought a dress for the occasion. He may be in dire need of a cold shower, but the last thing Bob Floyd was going to do was hurt you. He squeezed the pillow, knuckles turning white as he tried to find strength. For once, he couldn’t wait to start an episode of Love Island. Hell, he would even take an episode of The Bachelor at this point. 

“Here ya go,” You sat down on the couch next to him, glass of ginger ale in hand. You even remembered how much ice he preferred in his cold beverages. You were perfect. 

“Thanks,” Bob slowly took one hand off the pillow, the other still holding onto it for dear life. 

“You uh, like that pillow?” You chuckled, though your nerves still shined through. 

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Bob looked down, ensuring his big problem was still covered, “It uh, helps my stomach!”

You raised an eyebrow, though you didn’t further question it. Instead, much to Bob’s delight, you reached for the remote, clicking through until you finally landed on the desired episode. With a shaking hand, Bob gulped down the ginger ale, promptly placing it on the coffee table so he could have both hands on the pillow. 

The room was silent, saved for the ridiculous conversations happening on the TV screen. Normally you and Bob would be shoulder to shoulder, laughing as you both narrated your opinions on the contestants. But today Bob was rigid, his fingers still clutching to the pillow on his lap. He hadn’t even touched the bowl of popcorn. 

"Do you like my dress?" It took everything in Bob not to groan at your question. The last thing he needed was a reason to look at you. But how could he deny himself such a chance? So he put on his best smile as he turned to face you.    

"Uh yeah it's lovely. I'm sure everyone will love it-" 

"I got it for you.” Your voice was soft as you hit the pause button on your remote, eyes remaining on the screen. 

The words hit Bob like a freight train. 

"What? Why would you-"

You shrugged, fingers toying with the short hem of your dress, "I thought maybe, if you saw me in something different, something that wasn't my flight suit or a tee shirt, that maybe you would finally notice me?” 

You finally looked him in the eyes, “Maybe you'd finally notice that I've been trying to flirt with you for the last few months?" 

Bob opened his mouth just to promptly close it. He thought back to the last few months, now analyzing every seemingly ordinary interaction he had with you. 

The way you insisted on sitting next to each other during lunch. As well as during briefings. And when you went to the Hard Deck. Whenever a guy tried to flirt with you there, you turned them down, focusing your attention back on him, continuing your conversation about his latest D&D campaign or a Lego set you had found that reminded you of him. The way you always touched his arm, your hand lingering on his skin as you bore your eyes into his. How you always texted him. How you baked a cake for his birthday. The little trinkets you’d bring him. 

Oh god, he was a fucking idiot. 

The tension in the room was thick. You, sitting restlessly as you waited for Bob to acknowledge what you had said. Bob, processing your words and what they meant. 

“How long?” Bob asked, his voice soft yet firm.

You chuckled as you shook your head, “Honestly? First day. We hadn’t even spoken yet. I saw you walk in and you just were….not only handsome but also looked so kind? Then you offered me a spare pencil, made that comment about Jake’s driving and I….was a goner.”

“I saw you talking to Halo before the briefing room was open,” He confessed, “She said something that made you laugh and it….it was the prettiest sight I had ever seen.”

“We’ve wasted a lot of time, huh?” You both stared ahead at the TV, still too fearful to face each other. 

Bob dryly chuckled, “Yeah….a lot of time. Months, if we’re being more exact.” 

The two of you remained in silence, your words sinking in. Neither sure what should be said, if anything should be said. Until finally, you spoke up. 

“Bob? What’s underneath the pillow?” 

His hips shifted, involuntary, “What?” For a moment, he forgot about the darn pillow and the erection he was covering with it. 

The cluelessness in his voice brought a giggle, “The pillow? Why are you using it to cover your lap?”

Bob sighed, “Can I at least kiss you first?” 

You nodded, moving to close the gap between you and Bob. Pillow be damned, his hands cupped your jawline, giving you a sweet smile before leaning in, closing the gap between your lips and his. 

Bob Floyd’s lips were soft, no doubt due to the sweet mint chapstick you'd watch him apply countless of times. You didn't want to admit how often you'd wondered about the taste, what his hands would feel like on your body. God, they were huge. His thumbs rested comfortably on your jawline, but you could feel his other fingers spanning your neck, down to your collarbone. 

The first kiss was gentle, practically modest. Your lips were only apart for several seconds, if that, before connecting again. 

You easily found his shoulders, grasping them for purchase. The gap between your bodies was too much, Bob wanted to be as close as possible. So his hands trailed down your body, skimming along until they found the back of your thighs. Using his strength, he moved your body, situating you onto his lap. 

A high pitched gasp fell from your lips upon feeling the bulge that was straining against his jeans. Good god, he was thick. You had heard whispers, chalking it up to typical locker room talk. 

Nope, those rumors were one hundred percent true. 

“I’m sorry,” Bob groaned, hands exploring your soft curves. Worst of all, he sounded earnest, only making you want to touch him more. 

“I-I wore this on purpose ah-after all,” you confessed, finding it difficult to speak as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your exposed chest. 

Right. You wore this on purpose. To entice him. To see if perhaps he felt the same burning desire. Once realization hit him again, Bob’s hands moved along your back, just stopping above your ass. 

Wait, he was about to touch your ass. 

“We-we shouldn’t,” Bob mumbled, retracting his hands from your body. You stilled, a crestfallen look painting your face. 

“We shouldn’t?” Repeating the words felt like driving a knife through your heart. Had regret finally emerged, beating the rush of adrenaline? Was he going to regret this, ask that you two never speak about it ever again, pretend it never happened?

“I…” Bob sighed, “I need to take you on a date first.”

Bless his heart. 

Sighing, you relaxed your body into his, resting your head in the crook of his neck, “You’re too sweet, y’know that?”

Bob chuckled, “That's supposed to be my line.” 

His hands gave your hips a loving squeeze, causing you to nestle further into him, until your bodies were nearly molded as one. Your lips searched for his, trailing up his neck, his jawline, along the side of his button nose until finally reaching his soft lips. Bob shifted in his seat, causing you to do the same. As a result, you could feel his erection, despite the layers of clothes. 

“Good lord Bobby, you've just been walking around with all that?” Bob groaned, but not due to your words. No, it was because you had started moving your hips in circles, his erection now pressed against your covered core. 

“I’m- I’m trying to be a gentleman.” Bob couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to stop. He should stop. Maybe you two could skip the Hard Deck and go out to dinner. Then he could take you home and not feel as guilty. 

“You can be a gentleman later,” by throwing your arms over his shoulder you finally had access to his neck. His skin was so soft, so delicate. How could you not sink your teeth into his neck? 

Normally you'd have better self control than this. But you were ovulating and had six months of sexual frustrations and wet dreams- 

“You had dreams about me?” Uh-oh. That wasn't meant to be said out loud. Granted, maybe it was for the best to get everything out in the open. 

Timidly nodding, you explained, “Yeah. The days I didn't sit next to you were because….I had a dream about ya the night before.” 

A band had snapped within Bob, no doubt due to the numerous times you didn't sit next to him during briefings. 

Within seconds, you found yourself on your back against the couch, the bespectacled WSO hovering over you. There was a fire flickering in his blue eyes as he remained laser focused on your face. 

“After this, you're putting this dress back on and I'm taking ya out to dinner, is that clear?” his voice was gruff and deep, similar to when he did a hundred pushes that one day (that you definitely didn't think about while masturbating). 

Chest heaving, dress pushed up to your upper thighs, lips kiss bitten, God, you looked like an angel to Bob. He remembered learning about angels in church growing up. How pious they were, that seeing them was a sign of comfort, that they would guide one to safety, to a holy life. 

There was nothing holy about what he wanted to do to you. 

His mouth was hot, searing kisses along your skin. Your back arched into him, desperate for me. But he always seemed to pull away before you could get enough. Would you? Ever get enough of Bob Floyd? 

Finding an answer would have to wait, for now you wanted to relish in the feeling of Bob’s hands kneading your breasts. It was obvious you weren't wearing a bra, a fact Bob ob had spent forty minutes trying not to think about. He still felt a smidge of guilt, as though the newly drawn line between friends and more hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Was he even supposed to be doing this?

“You can keep going. I want you to.” You sensed his hesitation. In all the time you knew Bob, he had never taken someone home for a one night stand. He wasn’t like that. He needed time to build a connection, to feel comfortable enough to be himself. That’s why he loved spending time with you. With you, there was no need to put up a front, no need to be fearful of judgement. 

“And then afterwards, we can order some Thai food and continue watching the episode, if you want. Or we can just do that now,” your hands cradled his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you. He found a sweet, reassuring smile, similar to the one that made him smitten six months ago. 

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Bob could be blunt, and often was when it came to his colleague’s shenanigans. But with his own feelings? He always chose his words carefully. 

Hence why his admission took you some time to process. Bob could see it on your face; first your eyes widened, lips slightly parting as if driven by the need to respond immediately. But then your lips closed, your brain quickly gaining back self control. 

“I’m falling in love with you too Robby.” You were the only one who could call him that. It was that familiarity, that intimacy, that gave him the courage to move his hands to your hemline up to your hips, revealing the thin, lacy red fabric underneath. 

You were breathtaking. Always were. But this? This solidified things for Bob. You two had made a step forward in your relationship. Many things would still be the same. But there were now new things to experience. Simply another layer of intimacy had been added.

His long fingers skimmed over the fabric of your panties, every touch sending a spark of electricity along your spine. Every stroke caused a small gasp to fall from your lips, music to Bob’s ears. Lowering himself, Bob decorated your hips with opened mouth kisses. Finally, gaining enough courage, his fingers pushed your panties to the side. 

Fuck, you were wet. 

If there was any hesitation left in Bob, it died upon seeing how visibly aroused you were. He had done that. No one else. Lowering himself even more, he was now at eye level with your wet cunt. This wasn’t some vivid wet dream. 

When his touch licked a broad stripe up your slit, a broken moan fell from your lips, echoing off the walls. It was the prettiest sound Bob had heard. He wanted to hear it again. All the time. 

With more confidence, Bob begins lapping up your arousal, determined to taste every inch of you. His fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you closer. Looking down, you see his glasses are now crooked, though you highly doubt Bob cares, given how his eyes are half closed in pleasure. 

Wait, was he grinding against the couch? 

The discovery caused your thighs to clamp over Bob’s ears, your hips thrusting upwards to get more of his talented tongue. Bob wasn't reserved around you, never had been. But this was a new side to him that you had wondered if it ever existed. Animalistic. Devouring. Loud. 

His groans vibrate against your core, only heightening the pleasure. Slowly, his right hand goes from your hips to your core, mouth moving to your clit as the long digits trace your opening. 

“Oh my God, please,” you all but beg, not quite ready to admit how often you thought about his fingers and how they would feel inside of you.

Always thinking about your comfort, Bob started off with just one finger. You tried to fuck yourself with it, your own fingers gripping the soft strands of his hair for better leverage. The thought of making you beg crossed Bob’s mind. Would you like that? Would you be open to that? There were so many new topics to discuss, so many new boundaries to explore now. 

You happily welcomed the stretch of two, three fingers. Bob found the little moans you let out to be quite adorable. He could feel his cock throb against his jeans, but pleasing you took priority. 

“C’mon honey. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.” His voice was low, husky even. 

“C-can you be inside me? Like your…your cock?” A broken groan fell from Bob’s lips at the very thought of being inside of you. 

“I don't….I don't think I'll last long,” he admitted sheepishly. Hell, he could probably come just from eating you out. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it sounded pretty good- bringing himself to the height of pleasure just from ravishing you. 

“I don't think I will either,” you giggled, “But we’ll….we have lots of other times to go slow.” 

Bob helped you sit up on the couch. “You wanna go to the bedroom?” He asked, thinking about how this could be more comfortable for you. 

Instead, you shook your head, hands moving to his jeans, hastily undoing the buttons. 

Now it was your turn to explore, to discover. There was a dark trail of hair that went past the waistband of his jeans. He wore boxer briefs. And Bob Floyd had the prettiest cock. 

His face turned bright red at the compliment, “Oh it's…I mean it's like fine, but it's not-” 

“Take the damn compliment Robert,” you all but scolded, eliciting a laugh from him, your favorite. The high pitch, near giggle one. The one that made your heart flutter. 

Feeling at ease, you moved so that you were hovering over Bob’s lap. Your fingers moved to the base of his cock, making you realize you would have to ease yourself into it. 

“I gotcha,” his hands found your hips, slowly easing you down. His sapphire eyes never left your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. He went slow, waiting until you made it vocally known you were ready for more. 

By the time you reached the base of Bob’s cock, you were a mess. You wanted him to move, to fuck you within an inch of your life. But he was also so big. The stretch was nothing you had experienced before. 

“Hey, we can take our time, okay? I know it's, that it's a lot,” he assured you, as though he could sense your internal conflict. His lips found yours, and in that kiss you found comfort. Bob grounded you, always had, whether it was up in the air or right here on your couch. 

How much time had passed, who was to say? You could recall both your phones vibrating a few times, no doubt messages from the rest of your squad. Those messages could wait. 

“I think I'm ready,” you whispered against Bob’s lips. He needed, digging his fingers into your hips to gain a better grip. With his help, you lifted yourself no more than a couple of inches off his cock, returning to the base. 

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Bob moaned. You just made Bob Floyd curse. Something not even a bird strike could do. That four letter word gave you the confidence to lift your hips up on your own accord, returning swiftly. Slowly, just an inch or two, which became several inches. Up and down motions turned to swiveling your hips in a circular rhythm. What was once a quiet living room, saved for a few small gasps and the static from the TV, had now become a symphony of melodic pants and groans. 

Bob could tell you were close. Your pussy was tightening around his cock more and more, your fingers dug into his broad shoulders, as if trying to anchor yourself. You practically whined at the sight of Bob taking two fingers into his mouth, wetting them with his tongue. He lowered them to where your bodies connected. 

Upon first contact with your clit, your head dropped to the crook of his neck, unabashedly moaning his name, hips moving in a now frantic motion. 

“That's it, I gotcha.” Fuck, we he going to talk you through it? Was Bob Floyd a talker? Ironic, considering at work he was known as a man of few words. 

“Feels s’good, being inside ya.” Fuck, he was a talker. You were doomed, “Wanna, wanna make us cum. Bet ya gonna feel even better when ya soak- fuck- soak my cock.” 

Your brain was hazy. Was this real? If it was a vivid wet dream, you never wanted to wake up. Was it wrong to hope that you were in a medically induced coma, so that if this  was indeed a dream, you wouldn’t have to wake up so soon? Surely, your friends and family would understand upon meeting Bob. 

Then he pointedly thrusted his hips upwards, reminding you that no, this wasn’t a dream. No, you wouldn’t wake up feeling frustrated and unable to look him in the eye. After this, you two could go out to eat, on a real date. Not some hey let’s get dinner that feels like a date in everything except in name. You could also order delivery and cuddle up on the couch. Maybe you could even shower with him beforehand, and see his bare body, find out what was truly hiding underneath that flight suit. Oh, he was deceptively strong, you always knew that. But to see it, to feel the hard planes of his muscles? Oh, that would be quite the joy to experience. 

“Sweet girl,” you clenched at that nickname, you wanted him to continue calling you that for eternity, “Let go. Know ya want it.”

“I-I do,” you all but whined. Bob found the noise cute. What other sounds did you make? What would you sound like if he kept fucking you after you came? What about if he ate you out for hours? Or teased you until you were teetering on the edge?

There were so many questions, so many areas to explore. But for now, Bob was satisfied with experiencing how tightly you clenched his cock, how you practically sang his name as you came. Your release triggered his, pulling your hips down until they were flushed against his. His lips smashed against yours, swallowing your moans. 

Then there was silence. No words spoken. Only the sounds of panting, you both clearly trying to catch your breath, and kisses exchanged, ones that neither of you could resist giving. 

Realization hits you like a freight train. “I’m on birth control.”

Bob’s eyes widened, “Oh thank God.” He was usually so good about asking, about pulling out. But you….you made his brain feel like cotton. 

“You saying you don’t want to have kids with me?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek to let him know you were only saying it in jest. 

“Not yet.” You sat up to find he had an earnest smile on his face, cheeks rosy and eyes shining in adornment. 

Bob Floyd was going to be the death of you. 

So you brushed several strands of sandy brown hair off of his forehead, replacing them with a kiss, "Gotta get me a ring first."

Luckily, you were going to be the death of Bob Floyd.

[oddballwriter]

Calling Them your Husband

Warnings: nothing really 

Author’s Snip: I just wanted to make some tooth-rotting fluff so enjoy

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Steven Grant

When you call him your husband, it was originally a joke, sort of

Your friend called you while you were out doing errands with Steven and they asked what you were doing, to which you said "I'm out with my husband getting stuff done."

Steven just blushes and does that goofy little smile he does because he's never heard you say that but now he wants to hear it all the time now

You guys are in a long committed relationship together and you two have been living together for some time now but he's been too anxious to ask about possibly getting married some day. Not knowing if that's something you want or if you just want to cohabitate as a couple instead

But now that he heard you refer to him as your husband (even if it was a little joke) he wants to marry you in a heartbeat so that you can actually call him your husband and he can call you his wife/husband/spouse

He just thinks about it the whole day but doesn't say anything to see if you will call him that again in case pointing it out will cause you to stop. He is a bit more affectionate though, sneaking in a pick on the cheek or something and secretly making goo-goo eyes at you

When you get home and you aren't in range of seeing it Steven starts looking up engagement rings and prices to see which one would look nice on you and try and save up money

Steven also starts to subtly, at least as subtle as he can be, ask you about if you want to get married someday

He's such a dork though, bless his soul, in his brain he's just kicking his feet and giggling. He's looking at prices for venues and planners already.

Marc Spector

Marc has it in him to get married, we know that

But in his mind he doesn't really see himself as "husband material". He thinks that he's got too much baggage that you'd have to deal with if you were married

He acts like you two haven't been living together and splitting the bills and stuff, which is sometimes what marriage is, in the most domestic way possible

To him, he can't really see himself being able to do the whole marriage thing all over again

That was until some drunk creep was hitting on you while you and him were on a date and you told the guy "I'm with my husband" which warded that guy off

For some reason you calling him your husband while you locked your arm with his just washed those feelings of doubt out. Something about it just made him feel so confident

Like "Yeah I'm their husband! Back off!"

After that Marc was more open with himself about the idea of letting that title back into his life and getting to call you his spouse too

He more so likes the ability to call you his spouse. Possessiveness is in him and by god does getting to call you his spouse feed it

Marc will ask about the idea of marriage sometime after that just to see if you like it

If you want to get married then he's on board. But if you think cohabitating suits you better then he's fine with that too

So long as you're there together and you love him then he's content and happy

Jake Lockley

Damn right he's your husband

Honestly ever since you two got serious with your relationship, became committed to each other, and moved in he's just been like "We are married now" in his head

He's never said that out loud but he knows that the feeling is there with you too

It wasn't until you semi-jokingly called him your husband when some girls were checking him out and you huffed and puffed about it

"What's the matter? I wasn't flirting back." "Well, excuse me for not wanting some giggling college girls to be eyeing up my husband."

And that just... made him feel something, in his heart and in his pants

No but seriously. After that night cohabitating and acting like a married couple wasn't enough. He needs to put a ring on you and vice versa

He will go down to town hall and get those damn papers and buy the rings right now

Jake was originally just going to wait until you said that you wanted to get officially married, but he just can't anymore

In the morning you guys are going to buy rings, get the papers filled out, and planning the wedding

He's got the wedding planner on speed dial and a house with a picket fence in the nice part of town ready to go, just say "I do" please

Honestly at this point he never wants to hear his name come out of your mouth ever again. To you, it's either "hun" "hunny" "dear" or "sweetheart"

Light of his life, air in his lungs, fire in his loins

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[fairlyang]

Missing You 🕷️

w/c: 944

tags: 18+ smut. mig's turn, masturbating, realization, teasing, down horrendous, phone sex, mutual masturbation,

part one

imagine going on about your day but unlike miguel you don’t let him get a word in because you need to say every single detail or else you’ll forget things. so you don’t even question why he isn’t responding just assuming he’s politely listening like always.

but in reality he's stroking himself, listening to you ramble. 

he couldn't help it. he was just like you in the sense that he loved, loved your voice.

he couldn't help if he got turned on just by hearing your pretty voice. it was so soft and sweet in his ear, how could he possibly be blamed when he gets hard just hearing it? 

you were oblivious to the fact that he wasn't really listening, keeping your story going while he stroked himself over his sweats. he was already so hard and leaking precum through his boxers. 

he laid his head back against his headboard and closed his eyes, imagining it was your hand slowly stroking him and not his own. he bit his lip to keep quiet and slid his hand under his sweats, starting to stroke himself over his boxers. 

he's missed you so fucking bad, his own hand was practically useless but for the time being, he genuinely had no other choice but to use it. if it were up to him, he'd have you jerking him off while he sucked on your tits. or he'd be between your legs and eating you out for hours because he's missed being there desperately. 

what he's missed the most is being inside you. it's been too long he swore he forgot how you felt. how you squeezed him to perfection. how you let out those beautiful moans and cries for him. 

his hand finally went under his boxers and he didn't wait a singular second to jerk himself off fast. he nearly let out a moan but he disguised it for a cough. his eyes shot open when you stopped talking for a second, not catching the moan but instead hearing the sounds of him masturbating. it was identical to how it was just a few days ago so it was hard to miss.

you stifle a laugh and grin, "aww did someone miss me?" you teased, making him roll his eyes and groan. 

"so happy to hear it baby." you say with a little giggle. 

he couldn't help but grin, he didn't think he'd be the one who'd get so turned on just from a normal conversation, now he didn't have anything to have other over your head. "been missing you so much nena.. couldn't help it." 

you swore under your breath and quickly got into a comfortable position so you could join him. "ahora somos iguales huh?" you tease earning yourself a chuckle from him. (now we're the same huh?"

"pues ya que…" he joked, making you roll your eyes. (i guess…)

somehow having the upperhand wasn't enough to help your case but help his. 

after a few seconds you both started to touch yourselves, trying to hear the noises the other would make but you were both too quiet. finally he sighed and just admitted defeat because he wanted to hear you already. "si somos iguales y te necesito aquí ahora mismo." he murmured, it coming out nearly as a desperate plead. (yes we are the same and I need you here, right this moment) 

"fuck-" you moaned and he was somehow already able to hear your wetness in the background.

"estoy contando los días…" he murmured and started stroking himself faster. (I'm counting down the days.)

"I am too baby.. wish you were in our bed." you whimpered, making him groan. 

"yeah? where would you want me?" he asks breathlessly, feeling himself getting closer to the edge just from hearing everything from your side of the line.

everything was practically crystal clear and it drove him insane. 

"on top of me." you cried and the noises only got louder. 

and before he could ask you to be more specific, you kept going, "wanna hold you close while you fuck me."

the moan that came out of him sent shivers down your spine and to your core. spending so much time apart was driving you both insane and all you needed was each other but you still had to wait a few days. 

it was torture.

luckily this was the next best thing and you both had strong voice kinks so these calls were able to help your urge to not just beg for him to come home. he'd do it in a heartbeat which was the problem, he needed to finish his job.

so you'd both torture yourselves by just getting off together. making each other moan and praying the days would go by faster.

continuing the back and forth of dirty exchanges just to make your need for one another even worse.

"doing so good for me baby." he purred, closing his eyes once again and envisioning you on top of him. 

he needed you in every position as soon as he could get to you, he's missed it all. 

his hand went even faster and your moans were becoming louder, just the motivation he needed. 

his orgasm quickly came when you whimpered out his name and let out the most needy moans he's ever heard. that coil in his stomach erupted and he spilled his load over his stomach, and the last bit of it on his thighs. 

he tried to calm his breathing as he heard you also having an orgasm. loud moans and desperate pleas to come home filled his ears and he nearly came for a second time.

[yu-huuuu]

𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯?| 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘴!reader| chapter: 01, (you are here)02, 03,

[🌸] phew-- you guys give me so much love in the last part, thanks <3 , maybe you don't know but you always give me a lot of energy to continue, thank you, I love you.

Summary: Perhaps the most important question is not; "How did you end up in this place?". it is; will you be able to finish the unfinished business that your self from this world left pending?.

...

..

.

The man took another sip of the steaming tea that resided in his hands, "I searched for you like crazy as soon as I first received your call."

You straightened up; however, you did not speak despite your desire to do so. Laura was sitting next to you.

When the man suddenly appeared at the door, the first thing he said was to know why you were in this place, and of course you were surprised by his words.

He had politely asked to speak to you, which you reluctantly agreed to. Laura, on the other hand, had offered to make some tea for the three of you to drink while you talked.

This man's appearance was so strange and unkempt, yet so... familiar, you vaguely wondered where you had seen him before.

"This is probably too sudden for you", he said, without showing any sign of discomfort at your lack of response. He put the small china cup down on the living room table, then pointed at your new old friend, "Does she have to be here?"

You knitted your eyebrows at her unappreciated words. You opened your mouth to reply before he interrupted, "No, forget it. I just remembered what happened last time I asked you that".

You were speechless; what did he mean by 'last time'...?

"Sorry, did we know each other before?", you asked, completely confused. "You speak as if we have known each other for a long time..."

The man frowned at your words: "Oh, right, you're not her".

"Her?" you murmured. You were so confused; did he think you were someone else or...?

He sighed while frowning a bit. His action and expressions were unexpected for you, but to be honest, it was more like he was mentally preparing himself for what he was going to say next: "How much do you know about other dimensions?".

"I...", what did you know? Only what was necessary, that was for sure. I mean, there was never a question like that on a math or physics test in high school. Goodness, it wasn't even a regular topic of conversation.

The man spoke again, not letting you finish your thoughts he murmured your name, "That's your name, right? I guess your last name is not 'Wayne', that would be too much of a coincidence'.

Wayne? Like the last name of that fictional character from the comics? You were going to ask him what he meant when the realization of what he said first hit you, you hadn't even told him your name yet, "How...?"

"So even names don't change in other dimensions," he said to himself without looking at your face. Then the man snorted; it sounded like an almost graceless muffled laugh. When he calmed down, he looked into your eyes. His look was serious— too serious, a little chill ran down your spine from the intensity of his look. "You are in another dimension... one where you died."

"What?" He was joking, right?

The man sighed, almost as if he were preparing himself for what he was about to say, "You were Bruce Wayne's adopted daughter".

As soon as the man finished speaking, you had enough. "Is this a joke!? Do you think it's funny that—?", Laura's warm hand on yours stopped you in the middle of your tirade. You turned to see her confused, only to see her surprised? She looked as if she had realized something.

Why did Laura see you that way? You could feel that your head was about to explode from everything that was happening. This was all too much; it couldn't be real. It was just impossible. This had to be a very well-crafted joke.

The man called out to you once more. "I didn't introduce myself, right?", he sighed in amusement and then raised his hand for you to shake in introduction mode, "You from this dimension probably would be scolding me for my bad manners. I'm John Constantine".

...

You saw the man's back walking away, his hands inside his coat. When he was a good distance away, he turned to you, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to contact me".

You squeezed the special card he had given you while you nodded vigorously, and then watched with complete surprise how what you assumed was a portal opened and then disappeared with John inside. None of this felt real, you were still taking in what happened an hour ago.

'I'm in another dimension', you thought as you, still very nervous, looked at the news magazine in which on the front page was reported about how the "justice league" managed to successfully catch the "injustice league" who threatened to destroy the entire city of Manhattan.

You knelt down, moving and reviewing different magazines from earlier dates that had different characters as protagonists, some better known than others. There was one of the "teen titans", a magazine that perfectly framed "Superman" flying through the sky to catch a plane with more than two hundred passengers on board that was going down.

You rummaged and moved more magazines until you got to the oldest news. One page featured Wonder Woman in particular as the protagonist of a march for Women's Day. Another page featured Flash, who was named the fastest human being alive. Even one of Aquaman gave an interview on how he managed to clean up the oceans by ninety percent.

There were some from Gotham that you were afraid to see for some reason. 'Is what he told me true?'

You sighed, tired; all this was giving you a migraine. 'Of all the possible things that could have happened to me, it had to be the worst...'

...

A sudden knock on the door startled you.

'Is it John?', was what you thought at first. It had been a few days since you last saw John, and the talk you had with him still weighed heavily on your mind.

.

.

.

"I suggest you come with me", he tried to convince you, but he stopped when he saw your distrustful look, "or maybe I could take you to Bruce", he retracted as he raised his hands a little.

"Why?" you inquired uneasily.

"You'll be safer this way", he explained as he got up from the chair. It didn't take long for you to copy his action, "Are you coming?".

Should you really do it? Was it really safe to go with him? If everything he told you was true, then the world waiting for you outside wasn't safe at all, and you knew it. You weren't foolish at all; you were sure that even John couldn't protect you at all times.

What would happen to Laura? Would she be okay?

John, seeing your indecisive state, hums, "Though- this place is good". He spoke, taking his eyes off of you.

You looked up from the fixed point that you were looking at without realizing it, "huh?"

He just nodded to himself and then looked at you, "I mean, this place isn't safe, it's a small town, but no one would think of looking for anything of value in this place", he explained as he gave you a small but warm smile, albeit something very inside you told you that smile was not really directed at you.

.

.

.

The second wave of knocks on the door took you out of your memories. You were about to get up to open the door when Laura suddenly appeared, waving you to stay in your place, which you obeyed.

"Are you sure that she is here?", it was a woman's voice, getting up from the soft chair, you headed towards the door.

You heard John's sudden voice, though it sounded like he was trying to defend himself, perhaps from some assumption, "Trust me, Zatanna is this house, I'm absolutely sure".

"It's better to be careful after last time-", the mockery in her voice trailed off as you stood in front of the door. She was a young woman, her eyes were a pretty blue, she had beautiful black hair that cascaded down her back; and next to her was John.

"See, what did I tell you?" John exclaimed triumphantly, ignoring the stunned woman next to him. "Hey , how's it going-?", the question hung in the air as the woman took a step towards you.

Laura, who was still standing in the same place, gave the black-haired woman enough space to pass. The soft touch of the female's hands on your face made you pay all your attention to her. Her eyes looked sad as she stared into yours, "You're not the same persona I used to know, are you?"

"I...", it wasn't even necessary for you to say anything else, she understood what you meant.

"I see, I understand. My name is Zatanna Zatara," she explained as she slowly moved her hands away from you, almost as if she didn't want to leave your person.

You felt bad for the woman in front of you.

...

:> Would you give me some love by squishing the heart below? Also tell me your thoughts, you can do it in this post or write it in my inbox!

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Okay but imagine Possesive!Konig finding out someone has a crush on you. Like maybe there's guy from work who likes to linger by your desk little too long or alway finds a reason to text you when you're off. You don't think too much of it, you've always been friendly with your coworkers. It can be dull just sitting at your desk for eight hours so a little conversation helped break up the time. You figure he was harmless. Then people in the office start to notice and you realize how frequently he finds a reason to interrupt your day. Your other coworker once made a joke that he was your 'work husband' and that was the line for you. Not only were you uninterested but you also have a 6'7 hunk of a man waiting at home, who you're very content with. Then you start to notice how close he stands to you. The way he uses any excuses to brush against you or pick a piece of lint off your shoulder. So the next time that guy approaches stops by your desk you are only giving short responses. He offers to grab you something when he goes to the cafe and you refuse. He tries to walk you to your car but you insist you have to stay over to finish up some forms. He doesn't catch the hint though. You don't want to be harsh and spoil the work relationship, that last thing you need is more drama in the office environment.

Then one night you're at home on the weekend. You're sitting on the couch with Konig watching some German cooking show he insisted on and your phone lights up with a text from your dreaded admirer. "Hey! A couple of us are getting together tonight for some drinks. Would love for you to join ;)",

Your stomach tightens when you unlock your phone and feel Konig's stare over your shoulder.

"Who is that?" His tone remains flat but you feel his arm tighten around your waist. You pray he doesn't assume there is anything going on behind his back.

"This guy from work who won't stop bugging me. I'm keeping things strictly professional but he's always pushing it". You reply back to the text quickly giving a lame excuse that shouldn't warrant a response. Your phone chimes almost immediately.

"Aw too bad, I was hoping I could get you that cocktail we were talking about. Next time then xx".

You don't text him back after that and flip your phone over on the coffee table. "Sorry, let's finish this episode." You settle back against his strong chest but he sits up and grabs the remote, pausing the show.

"No, I'm tired and it's late. Let's get to bed." He rises and heads to your bedroom.

All you can think of for the rest of the night is how he interpreted the whole interaction. Could he think you flirt with this loser? Surely, he would have more faith in your loyalty. You knew you were taking the easy way out by not being totally honest. The guilt eats at you knowing you lied by omission. You thought keeping your work life and personal life separate would be easier but now you realize it was just a way to avoid the confrontation. After a not so restful night sleep you are you determine today is the day you'll finally let Pat know that you are in a committed relationship and don't appreciate the attention you receive from him. Konig is already up and dressed while you stir your coffee still in your robe. You didn't know much about his work other than it was something to do with the military and it called him away at a moment's notice. He was out of the door with a kiss on your head.

When your breathing finally slowed to a steady pace last night, Konig was able to sneak out from under you and take a peek at your phone. He wasn't worried about his sweet libeling doing anything naughty behind his back. The contents of your phone only confirm that. The real purpose of his search was to find out some more info on your coworker. He looked through the many texts this guy has sent with way too many emojis attached while you give him mostly one word responses. He knew you didn't have a wandering eye. After finding his phone number and social media from your accounts it wasn't hard to get a hold of his address. By the next morning he had a plan in motion. He kissed you goodbye and headed out. You are such a trusting girl, wishing him a good day at work. He plugged in the address and found the place with ease. Actually not too far from your place. He parks a few block away from his destination. Dressed in a dark sweatshirt, he keeps the hood up to hid his identity without looking too suspicious. He reaches the complex, taking a moment to observe the apartment building. He sees the man walk by the patio door while buttoning his dress shirt, innocently getting ready for work. Trying to look his best for you, he's sure. Konig slips on his mask and knocks on the front door. There is a moment of shuffling and the door swings open.

"Can I help you...?" The man voice becomes weak as he stretches his neck up to meet Konig's steely gaze behind the sniper hood. Konig takes out his phone to confirm the identity, holding the screen next to the man's face just to be sure.

"You are Pat?" Konig questions.

"Um, yea?" Pat responds.

Konig squints down at him, tilting his head "You do not know who you are?".

"I mean, yes I'm Pat" His voice now more certain.

"Very good." Without waiting for a response Konig shoves the him back inside of his apartment and slams the door shut with his boot. Pat falls backwards and lands hard on his ass. He shuffles backwards but not fast enough. Konigs snatches him up by the collar of his crisp white shirt, slamming him into the nearest wall, knocking picture frame down in his wake. He catches the scent of his overpowering cologne making his rage boil over. He holds the man in place with a sturdy forearm against his skinny throat. Pat's feet dangle off the floor, kicking helplessly.

"Look man, you've got the wrong guy here! If this about the bet at the bar I've got the money. Let me just-" His cracking voice is cut off by a swift punch to the gut.

"Listen to me" Konig hisses through clenched teeth and pushing on his windpipe. "You will call your boss today. You will quit. Is that understood?".

"Huh?" He squeaks out. Another jab and Pat is scratching at the solid arm retracting his oxygen. Konig removes his hold and Pat crumples to the floor, gasping for air while gripping his abused neck.

"Is that understood?" Konig's voice booms in growing rage.

"Yes!" Pat answer between coughs. Not trusting any man's word Konig watches him make the call letting your boss know he will not be coming in for the indefinite future. Satisfied with the work he's done, Konig drives back to your place whistling along to a familiar tune on the radio.

You head into work, psyching yourself up on the car ride there. Rehearsing the conversation and possible scenarios that could play out. Once clocked in you nervously sit at your desk, bouncing your leg, trying your best to focus on the workload before you. Just waiting for the inevitable moment he appears but, it never comes. The hours skip by and Pat never shows himself. It's not until lunch time you finally leave your desk round the corner to see Pat's desk being packed away. You walked up to your manager clearing out the drawers.

"Hey, where's Pat?" you ask.

"Oh, you didn't hear? He quit." She tosses the last of the trinkets in the cardboard box and closes the flaps.

"Quit? why?" you feign concern but you can't help the wave of relief that washes over you.

"I'm not sure. He called all in huff this morning. Did he say anything to you?" She asks.

"No not at all. I hope he's alright." You watch her take the box in her arms, leaving the empty desk. Maybe this was the universe finally giving you a break.

You get through the rest of your day and head back home. You find your oversized Austrian man strewn across your couch, cleaning out a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

"Hello there, I'm guessing your day went well." You say as you shuck off your jacket and hang up your bag.

"Yes it was very fulfilling. I took care of an issue that has been bothering me. How was your day, mien engel?" He set the empty carton on the coffee table as he polishes off the spoon.

"Very good actually. Remember that guy who was bugging me at work? He quit today." Konig's eyebrow shoot up in surprise.

"That is one less thing to worry about then." He say. He rises from the couch, grabs you by the waist and pulls you tight to him. "I'm glad to have you all to myself."

[rainbowberriesandcookies]

Orihime's weird food combinations actually make a lot of sense-

It's one of those things that in the moment, it's used for comedic relief when other characters see her or hear about her weird food combinations but honestly there's also a lot of subtlety that makes me wonder if Kubo has more personal experience growing up poor or with food security because my god it makes too much fucking sense.

We know that Sora and Orihime had abusive parents who were described as the types of people that would hit a child until it stopped crying and that Sora intentionally hid her away from them to take care of her.

Chances are, their parents never taught Sora how to cook or take care of himself properly, and growing up, he likely had to feed Orihime little bits of what he could put together before he was able to turn 18 and run away with her.

At the start of the story, Ichigo says that Sora died three years ago and at the start of the story, Ichigo and Orihime are both around 15 years old. Which means Orihime was no older than 12 when Sora died.

Have you seen what 12-year-olds left to their own devices eat? And eventually, we find out that Orihime is taken care of by a distant relative who only sends her money as long as she keeps her grades up. Given that she lives by herself, it's likely only enough money to ensure that Orihime isn't homeless or starving - but not enough to actually buy proper meals.

And if it is - Orihime likely doesn't know what a proper meal looks like. From how Sora described their parents, he likely had to raise himself as many children do in abusive relationships, and then had to raise Orihime. But children often learn things from their parents like how to cook, clean, etc.

Another character with a similar home life that Orihime reminds me of is Taiga from Toradora.

Until she met Ryuji, Taiga pretty much lived on convenience store food as her parent(s) only sent money every so often. Likely - once again - it was just enough to make sure she wasn't homeless or on the streets but not enough to be able to afford cooking proper meals and Orihime - like Taiga - likely doesn't really know what normal food or meals really look like.

And as early as the volume 2 character profiles, we learn that Orihime is supported by relatives.

At one point, she's even seen eating bread likely because it was all she could afford.

In Chapter 14, Orihime just brings an entire loaf of bread and a can of red bean paste to lunch and as early as Volume 2 we learn that she's supported by relatives - yet we also know that she lives alone which even as early as this it can be assumed that they're fairly distant and only do so out of obligation rather than love.

Come Chapter 450, this is elaborated on even more

She outright mentions that a distant aunt pays for her living expenses and sends her less when her grades go down. And here, you can see her recounting what she heard about her parents being "really abusive" from her brother all with a smile on her face despite the fact that it's a pretty somber.

Another hint to the food insecurity is how Orihime looked at the donuts earlier and Riruka upon hearing this, let Orihime eat as much as she wanted.

It's in her own way, but Riruka clearly understood that Orihime didn't really have a good home life. But she's a tsundere so Riruka has to say that she doesn't want them anymore instead of outright saying she feels bad and doesn't want to deprive someone who likely has never really had too much food security of food that's right in front of them. The typical "It's not like I care or anything" from tsunderes like Riruka.

Jumping back to earlier chapters-

Orihime joked with Tatsuki about having to carry around a sleeping bag and sleeping outdoors after being kicked out of her apartment following the hollow incident in Chapter 24.

Given that Tatsuki didn't appreciate the joke and up till this point, she's one of Orihime's closest friends, chances are Tatsuki knows that Orihime has a precarious living situation which is why the joke didn't come off as funny because Tatsuki would also know that Orihime is the type to just smile her way through all of her troubles.

So combined with what we know...

As early as Chapter 4 her apartment was damaged as a result of Ichigo's battle with Acidwire, in Chapter 14 she brings bread and red bean paste to school to eat and in Chapter 24 Tatsuki doesn't appreciate her jokes about having to be in a sleeping bag until she finds a new place before admitting that she's actually staying in a hotel.

Chances are her grades slipped to the point she couldn't afford rent anymore or the damage to the apartment was that bad - either way the result was a pretty big strain on her already tight finances.

Orihime's odd food tendencies aren't just to make her quirky, but one of the only ways she knows how to survive. After all - a lot of people who live in poverty or struggle with food security eat and enjoy strange meals like mustard sandwiches where it is just bread and mustard or sugar sandwiches where it's just butter, bread, and sugar... A lot of struggle meals honestly involve some type of bread because it is cheap and filling.

Bread is one of the cheapest food items you can afford and while everyone else thinks that her food combinations are horrid... there is at least one person who appreciates them.

Rangiku!

And from what we know, Rangiku also had a very similar upbringing where she was found starving and alone by Gin. He offered her persimmons, a fruit that when eaten at the wrong time is very sour but when it's ripe it's mushy/soft. Because of this, persimmons can be something of an acquired taste - and when they're dried the flavor of them is even more concentrated

All in all, her quirky food habits are a subtle nod to her upbringing, and thinking about it now, it makes sense as to why it never really sat right with me when people would callously make fun of her food combinations or rather treated them like a genuine character flaw to mock and demean her over.

It's used for comedy because when you hear certain struggle meals, they really don't be making any sense and sound disgusting! Yet at the same time, it's a result of having to make do with what you have and your tastes revolving around that.

Even with the consistency of Rangiku, someone who was found starving enjoying her food combinations - it makes me wonder if Rangiku is no stranger to eating weird things or combinations on occasion. It also contrasts with Toshiro who was shown not really enjoying the food combinations, but unlike Orihime or Rangiku, he's never really been shown starving or hungry in his backstory because he had his grandmother and Momo with him.

Because of that, it's kinda hard to chalk up Orihime's weird food tendencies and growing up poor to be a "lucky coincidence" because the other person who enjoys them too grew up similarly to her - where food was scarce. Given how seemingly well thought out it is, it makes me wonder if Kubo himself may have either had or knew someone who struggled with food scarcity.

[squinch-depraved]

drinking games but taking edibles/parts of edibles instead

tedschlattreader gamenight? ted and schlatt ganging up on reader to make sure they get highest and take advantage of the situation

this came to me in a dream ☝️

ollie ur actually a fucking genius im gonna kiss u

CW: cnc/dubcon, intox

it was supposed to be a chill evening, you thought. playing games with your best friends was a weekly occurrence online, but the trip you and ted had taken to visit schlatt in new york for a while made the dynamics a lot different. for one thing, it was a lot harder to shit talk them when they were right in front of you. you never thought about how much bigger they were than you, but it was impossible to ignore now that you were around them for a week straight.

shaking off the thoughts you had about the size difference and how it made your stomach churn, you settled down onto your designated spot on the couch. you expected them to take their usual seats on either side of you, and they did after a few minutes of leaving you waiting. but they didn't come empty handed, and it was foolish of you to think they would.

they set a bunch of food items on the coffee table, arranging a spread that was beginning to look like a buffet. inspecting the labels carefully told you that every single item was an edible, and the realization earned a soft gasp from you.

"what the fuck are you guys planning?" you asked accusatorily. schlatt snorted and left the explanation up to the older man.

"we're going to play board games, like we usually do every week," ted started. "but instead of us taking shots or whatever when we lose, like we usually do, whoever lost the round has to pick one edible and either eat the whole thing or take a large bite, depending on the item. does that sound fair?" he glanced at you as he straightened up the countless gummies.

"jesus, how much did you spend on this shit??" you breathed, ignoring his question. ted didn't like being ignored, though, so he placed a large hand on your thigh and gripped it lightly but firmly.

"doesn't matter. i asked you a question. does that sound fair?" ted replied sternly. you nodded, unsure of why they were acting so different.

"don't act like you're the one who paid for this shit," schlatt mumbled as he sank back into the couch.

you giggled and relaxed as well, resting your head on his shoulder as ted went to grab the games. surprisingly, you felt pretty confident that you would be able to make it through the night with ease- you smoked a lot more than either of them, and that made you sure you would be fine, regardless of how many edibles you would end up taking.

but you were nothing if not a stupid, naive little slut.

it wasn't long before their plan became glaringly obvious: gang up on you to get you as far gone as possible. you were taking a gummy every ten minutes, and you had gone through at least two brownies by now.

"you guys are actually fucking evil," you muttered as you rocked back and forth on the floor. "what the fuck did i do to deserve this?" you asked them from your spot on the floor across the coffee table. you had eaten enough of the food that there was a good space for you guys to play a tabletop game now, and they had stopped trying to hide the fact that they were teaming up on you and were showing each other the cards they had so that they could maximize your punishments.

"nono, play that one, 'cuz i've got this, see?" ted murmured, pointing to something in his fanned out stack. schlatt nodded in understanding and plopped something on the table with a shit eating grin.

"take another one. we win," he bragged. you just hung your head in your hands and sighed deeply.

"fuck it," you whispered as you polished off a cookie the size of your hand. after finishing it, you clambered onto the couch and flopped face down, higher than you had ever been and desperate for some stability.

you heard ted and schlatt snicker before the older man joked, "look, dude it worked, she's already face down, ass up for us."

his words stirred you from your haze and you turned to face them, cheeks burning at how they looked at you.

"she's always ready for us, ted. our own personal little slut to share between us, she can't fuckin' help herself from showin' us her pretty little backside," schlatt teased cruelly, eyes locked on yours. you let out a strangled moan and buried your face back into the soft cushion, trying miserably to hide how turned on you were.

but they knew. they always know, it's their job to know. to take care of you when you get like this, to make you feel so good you can't speak. and you always let them. it's not like this would be any different because they got you belligerently high. if anything, it would make things much more pleasurable.

so when schlatt came up behind you and pulled off your bottoms, and ted pulled your head up by your hair so he could make out with you? of course you did nothing to stop them (how could you?). you let them manhandle you until you were nude on schlatt's clothed lap and ted stood up on his knees next to you, unbuckling his pants.

"dude, let me get her on my cock before you shove that thing down her throat," schlatt scoffed when the older man pulled out his length and scooted closer to you.

ted shoved him roughly, using one hand to keep you steady so he could slide his tip into your mouth. "shut the fuck up," he growled hungrily. schlatt whined angrily and watched as ted entered your throat inch by inch, admiring the bulge visible on your neck whenever he fucked deep into your face.

eventually, ted pulled out, smiling at the way you gasped and heaved, and gestured for schlatt to position you on his shaft, which he had brought out and was stroking at this point. he did so excitedly, groaning as you slid all the way down it before beginning to pump into you at a fast pace.

"easy, man, she's super high," ted warned him. schlatt just huffed and continued, picking you up and slamming you down onto him for a few minutes while ted watched and pumped himself in his fist. you were a wreck, wailing and moaning like they had never heard you before. your head lolled back after a bit, eyes rolling back into your head and fluttering closed as you sat there and took everything he was giving you.

soon, ted tapped him and signaled for him to help move you onto your hands and knees. it took a bit for them to get you propped up enough to be of any use, but once they did, they traded places. schlatt took your mouth, grabbing a fistful of your hair to use as leverage, and ted rammed into you from the back, harshly spanking you every now and then.

"fuck, she looks so pretty like this, doesn't she?" ted asked breathlessly.

"mm. looks like a slut," schlatt chided as he gripped your hair tighter. you whimpered for him and did your best to hold yourself up, but your legs were getting shaky, and you were about to cum for the third time.

"c'mere," ted leaned in, taking the back of schlatt's head and guiding it so they were locked in a sloppy kiss above you. the pressure of them leaning on you to be able to reach each other like that forced ted deeper into you, and you clenched around his cock as you sobbed through your orgasm.

you wished so desperately that you could see them making out above you, they knew how turned on it made you and it was truly malicious to deny you the simple pleasure of seeing them kiss.

ted pulled away and used his thumb to wipe the string of saliva that kept them connected from schlatt's lips. "i'm close," he grunted, thrusts intensifying until he finally slammed into you one last time and spilled inside you.

"my turn, move," schlatt grumbled as he withdrew from your mouth and shuffled to take ted's spot. a bit of cum leaked from your hole when ted pulled out and schlatt was quick to collect it on one finger and swipe it into his mouth. he moaned at the taste as he slid into you with ease and started pounding you relentlessly. his eyes screwed shut and he tilted his head back, letting the feeling of your pussy and his best friend's cum coating his dick take over him.

soon he was gripping your hips so hard bruises were beginning to form, and ted watched through lidded eyes as the younger man finally finished deep inside you with a loud groan. you collapsed as soon as he pulled out and ted immediately helped you to the bathroom, leaving schlatt to catch his breath.

once you were cleaned up, ted helped you find and change into some comfortable pjs and led you to schlatt's bed that they had decided beforehand you would all share tonight. he made sure you were settled with everything you could possibly need before returning to the living room to find schlatt staring at the ceiling.

"c'mon, man, come lay in bed with us," ted offered.

"it's my bed, asshole. don't invite me to my own bed," schlatt retorted.

"wouldn't be the first time," the older man chuckled before shaking his head and heading back to where you were resting.

[whiskyanndboots]

Vertigo

Summary - You were kicking yourself, you were a coward, a hopelessly unrequited mess hung up on a time traveling genius who didn't end up with normal, boring girls like you.

Pairing - Five x Reader, OCxReader (briefly)

Warnings- Swearing, sexual innuendo, alcohol, canon divergence, pining

A/N - I didn’t edit this, sorry, but I got a little fic idea and ran with it. I’d never heard of Umbrella Academy until about a month ago when the series ended and the community was on fire, I only write for series 4 and Five is aged up in this one because it’s a travesty we didn’t get his family making jokes about him legally being able to drink now. Sloane is alive because so she should be.

You tilted your head back and finished your drink while the bartender was already making your next one, the pleasant buzz of alcohol thrummed through you easing the anxiety you'd had in coming here earlier tonight. 

"He won't stop staring" Charlotte whispered in your ear, leaning into you so much you stumbled into the bar. 

Charlotte was your favourite co-worker, she didn't seem to care much about your vague answers and the distance you kept from everyone at work. 

"Who?" You answered with fake interest, you knew who. 

"Oliver!" She exclaimed laughing into her drink still way too close to your face. 

She was right, Oliver had been staring all night, aswell as flirting and buying you drinks. Oliver had asked you out once a few months ago and you'd rejected him, he took it on the chin and you'd been friends ever since. But you weren't blind, you seen the way he'd look at you, eyes flicking over your body before darting back up to your face when you'd walk by, his gaze always drifting to your mouth while you spoke.


The only difference was that for the first time tonight you were flirting back. 

"Come on, let's go dance" Charlotte tugged on your arm lightly gesturing at the packed dance floor. 

"I'll get my drink and I'll meet you out there" You told her, she dropped your arm and practically bounced into the crowd, your gaze caught Oliver’s and you gave him a quick smile, ducking your head and turning to face the bar. 

He was handsome, smart, funny, successful and he was very, very into you, you should have been over the moon, but there was one very crucial thing he was lacking when it came to your feelings. 

He wasn't Five Hargreeves.

You'd been living with Five for two years now, you'd been surprised when he offered up his apartment while you were still reeling from having somehow, inexplicably, jumped timelines. He had said he was away working all the time and the place was empty anyway. 

Considering you'd been staying with all the other Hargreeves siblings on a rotating roster the offer sounded like a dream. Five had eventually warmed up to you after he'd decided you weren't secretly trying to screw over him and his family, it took a few months longer than this siblings, you thought living with him would be awkward and you’d have this semi silent co-existence type of roommate relationship. 

As it turned out living with Five was easy. Yes, he was snarky, bossy and arrogant, but he was an old man at heart and he acted like one. When he wasn't working he was home reading about things that made your brain hurt, watching jeopardy and random documentaries, he’d recently found his new hobby in building these little complex car sculptures he'd painstakingly put together for weeks at a time. 

He liked walking too, the two of you often went for strolls, getting fresh air and finding new things to see, you were always excited about these little adventures and finding another hidden gem in the city. Five also had a love of classic cars and driving them very fast whenever he had occasion, the first time he asked if you wanted a spin in a 1983 Pontiac Firebird he’d acquired for a Saturday drive you spent most of it holding on for dear life. Five was an entirely sensible, though impatient, driver in the city, but he let loose when you traveled onto open roads. He liked to go see some of the weird wonders America had to offer, he had a list.

It was so easy to forget he was an old man on the inside while simultaneously forgetting his body was so young on the outside too. 

Your favourite thing by far was drinking scotch at home on the couch just talking, laughing and listening to music as he tried to help you understand some complex theory on physics or his own time travel ones, he also told you stories of his life. Most of the time they were funny, but some nights it got somber and they were nights where you were brave enough to reach out and squeeze his hand as a comfort, he wasn't normally a very physically affectionate guy, but he always squeezed your hand back. 

This was a problem because you'd very quickly fallen for Five, so quickly it was embarrassing, and Five had zero inclination towards you romantically. 

You were helpless really, his tenacity, how incredibly intelligent he is, his arrogant charm and quick wit and how much he loved his family all made your heart flutter. There were times when he'd look up at you with mischievous green eyes, a slight smirk tilting his mouth and his dark hair falling so perfectly in his face that your heart would slam against your ribcage. 

But as you had pointed out, this was all completely one sided. 

Five saw you as a friend, a close friend, but there was nothing more. He'd never once made a move or even hinted at seeing you romantically in the last two and a half years you'd known him. 

It was fine at first, it was enough for you just to be in his orbit, to live in your home together drinking coffee in the morning while he did crosswords in the newspaper and asked for your help occasionally, to be at family dinners or events and stand to the side to watch his incredible and weird family laughing and shouting while the both of you stole a moment for each other in the, usually, happy chaos.

It was enough to be cooking dinner and have Five come home muttering about the idiots he worked with, shrugging out of his jacket and coming to see what you were making. He'd lean against the kitchen counter venting while you were getting everything ready, he'd eventually sigh loudly and ask about your own day. You'd try not to get too distracted when he'd reach up and loosen his tie, long, tapered fingers plucking the knot expertly apart. 

He'd always stand there until you were done cooking, hair messy, a slight smile on his face, sometimes teasing you as you tried to one up him with playful insults, you never could, but you still tried and the wide grin he'd give you when you inevitably were lost for words against him made your face flush.

It was all so domestic and you were far too comfortable with it. 

The longer you indulged in the bubble you'd created with Five the deeper you were falling in and the more it was going to hurt when it ended.

You'd been thinking lately about the future, you wanted someone to love, maybe even a family, you'd spent over two years now in a kind of limbo not willing to accept you weren't going home to your old life. But you were getting older, you were watching everyone else's lives change and grow while yours stayed the same. 

You dreaded the day Five told you he met someone, it was bound to happen eventually, if anything you were surprised it hadn't already. You'd see the way women looked at him, but he always brushed them off if they were brave enough to approach, atleast while you were with him. You didn't like to think about what happened when you weren't.

So you pushed yourself to do this, to have some fun and get to know your co-workers better, let your walls down and maybe even give Oliver a chance. Lila had even called and invited you out tonight and although you would much rather have spent time with Lila, Diego, Klaus, Luther and Sloane you declined. Lila sounded happy you were getting out of the house and making other friends.

You were glad you came, you were having fun and the more alcohol you drank the more free and giddy you felt. It felt amazing not to care so much about your problems.

You hadn't been with anyone since you found yourself stranded in this timeline and all the pent up frustration from living with the man who made your pulse quicken on a daily basis felt like it needed to be let out. 

You grabbed your drink and made your way over to Oliver, he smiled widely as you approached, it felt good to have someone interested in you.

"Wanna dance?" He asked, there was a relaxed demeanour about him, he'd been drinking as much as you and you wondered if he could feel the same adrenaline about you as you were about him. 

You nodded taking his outstretched hand as he led you onto the dance floor. The pub you all decided to visit had a band playing tonight, doing some pretty decent covers of some 80's rock and roll, you'd been here before with the others, it wasn't far from your apartment and Lila and Diego's house. 

You saw Charlotte out there, swaying her hips with her arms around a mans neck, she winked at you with a wide smile when she saw Oliver pulling you further into the crowd of people.

You danced and sang , laughing and spinning around, everytime Oliver touched your skin it sent butterflies into your stomach, you don't remember the last time you felt this kind of nervous excitement, this exhilarated. 


A lie.


You absolutely do remember. 

It had been their birthday, all of their birthdays, but it was Five's second twenty first birthday, so naturally there was alot of alcohol involved. Five endured endless teasing about finally being able to drink and watching his cranky, snide banter with his family had you grinning all night. 

You shook your head, you wouldn't let yourself think about that night. It was a year ago and you'd filed it firmly in the do not open part of your brain, you saved it for late nights when you couldn't sleep and you let yourself take a pathetic hit off the memory. 

Oliver pulled you closer to him and out of your head, his hands were on your hips, he had an easy, boozy grin on his face while he held you tighter against his body, you could feel muscle and warmth, your breath quickened.

"You're so beautiful" He yelled over the music his hand sliding up to cup your face. 

Your heart was racing as he leaned in, you'd been waiting for this all night.

His mouth clumsily pressed onto yours, you kissed him back with a vigour you didn't even know you had. This was what you needed to do, you had to get Five out of your head which was ironic considering its all you could think about now. 

The kiss was messy, not unpleasant though, he pulled back to smile at you before smashing his lips back onto yours more forcefully now, his hands sliding down your body as you swayed to the music, 

Your stomach turned flipped on itself, a sick feeling of guilt winding through you. It felt like cheating which was stupid, you weren't dating Five and Five wasn't in love with you. Five couldn’t have cared less you were doing this. 

Suddenly everything was too overwhelming, you pulled back, but stayed in Olivers arms. His face was flushed and a goofy smile was plastered across it. You weren't sure you could do this, a kiss was one thing, but more felt like too much more. 

You were kicking yourself, you were a coward, a hopelessly unrequited mess hung up on a time traveling genius who didn't end up with normal, boring girls like you.

You were abruptly pulled out of your mid makeout crisis when your arm was roughly yanked backwards and out of Oliver's arms. The alcohol made you unsteady and you'd almost tripped over stumbling into another body.

"Lila?" You blurted out confused when you turned to see the culprit, she looked furious.

"What the hell are you doing?" She barked at you loudly, you furrowed your brow at her, your mind trying to catch up with where Lila had just come from.

"(Y/N)?" Oliver asked moving closer, hand outstretched in concern. 

"Back off wanker" She spat pulling you roughly through the crowd. 

"Ow Lila!" You exclaimed, she was squeezing your wrist too hard. You quickly sent a reassuring wave and smile at Oliver behind you while Lila practically dragged you with her, your boozy legs not wanting to cooperate properly. 

As you made it off the dancefloor you were greeted with a few of the other Hargreeves family members, you smiled before realising they looked didn't look happy to see you at all, Diego in particular looked furious. 

"We're going home" Lila turned her head to tell you, not bothering to stop as she passed her family, even Luther and Sloane didn't meet your eye as you were tugged past. 

"Why?" You tried to pull your arm back. 

Lila turned to look at you with so much barely restrained fury you flinched, she didn't answer and you didn't fight her as she continued to pull you into the cold night air.

"I said I'm driving" You heard Diego arguing with Klaus as you tried to catch up with what the hell was happening. You were sitting in the back of Lila and Diego's van with Klaus, Sloane and Luther before you knew which way was up. 

Klaus sat beside you, the side of his mouth lifted at your confused gaze, but his expression was pinched. 

"Wait, I didn't tell them I was going!" You exclaimed looking back at the bar as the car jerked away from the curb throwing your body against your seatbelt.

“That’s what you’re worried about!?l Diego yelled, turning in his seat to glare at you, it made you flinch. You'd never been on the receiving end of a Hargreeves wrath before.


You looked over to Luther and Sloane, their mouths were tight and they were pointedly not looking at you. You were so confused, you were willing your brain to sober up a enough to make sense of this. 

"I can't believe this, how could you do this?!" Diego continued on driving the car faster than he should have been, white knuckle gripping the steering wheel, Lila was staring straight ahead seeming deep in thought. 

You were definitely missing something because you had wracked your brain several times over and you were pretty positive you hadn't done anything at all to warrant this level of outrage.

"Are you gonna say something?" Diego once again turned to look over his shoulder at you. 

"Just lay off, Diego" Klaus interjected "wait until we're home, she's drunk" 

"Lay off?! I haven't even started" Diego fired back. 

The car turned sharply and you grabbed onto the seat to steady yourself, you looked over to Klaus who's expression wasn't angry as he gazed down at you, it was worse, he looked disappointed.

"Has something happened?" You finally spoke up, as the words left your mouth you had a sudden scary thought "Is Five ok?" 

"Oh, so now you give a damn about Five, huh?" Diego sounded exasperated even though he let out a chuckle, shaking his head muttering things you couldn’t hear. 

The car pulled up in their driveway with a harsh jolt, you felt like the journey hear was way quicker than it should have been. You let yourself be led into the living room by Klaus who sat you down on the couch, the Hargreeves filed into the room each taking a seat, Lila pulled a chair from the kitchen into the room and planted herself down infront of you, Diego however was pacing back and forth looking like he was struggling not to explode. 

Klaus appeared beside you with a glass of water, you hadn't realise how thirsty you were, "Thanks" you muttered taking a long gulp. 

No one had answered you about Five yet and anxiety was building in your chest. 

"How long?" Lila asked, the way she was staring into your eyes was intimidating the hell out of you.

"How long what?" You asked back creasing your brow. 

"How long have you been fucking that guy?!" Diego exploded making your head snap towards him in surprise

"Diego, let me do the interrogating honey" Lila reprimanded, but turned to you expectantly.

"Oliver?" You asked quietly, what was their problem with Oliver?

"That the assholes name, huh? Oliver what a dumb ass name" Diego was muttering to himself. 

"Well?" Lila widened her eyes at you expectantly. You suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable being stared at under a spotlight like this , this was your personal life and you could do whatever the hell you wanted. 

"I don't see how thats any of your business" You replied steadily, Lila looked like she could have slapped you, the twitch in her hand made you pretty sure she wanted to. 

"Our brother is our business" Diego stalked forward towards you "I never would have picked you for something like this, we all thought of you like family, Five worships the ground you walk on" You leaned back into the couch, Diego's voice was measured, but it felt oddly like being yelled at. 

"It stops now. You tell him when he gets back or we will" Luther spoke for the first time, all business and no nonsense, nothing like the goofy big guy you'd come to know over the last few years. Sloane locked eyes with you before dropping them, a sullen look on her face.

"I'm sorry" You closed your eyes for a moment raising your hand up before running it across your face "why are you all so pissed?" You turned your confused gaze to Klaus.

"Well, I imagine it was having our night interrupted by our brothers girlfriend playing tonsil hockey with some guy who's definitely not our brother" Klaus answered, his delivery was light, but his tone was clipped. 

"Five's gonna be devastated, is this what do while he's away at work? I just- I just- I just can't figure out why you'd do this to him, you guys are happy, aren’t you happy?” Diego was pacing again.

Your brain short circuited. 

Girlfriend?

"Are you talking about me?" You asked bewildered. You weren't sober enough for this conversation because clearly you were missing something here. 

"Well as far as I know there wasn't anyone else out cheating on Five tonight" Lila answered back sarcastically. 

"You-" You couldn't even find the words, what in the actual hell was going on "I'm not Five's girlfriend" 

The room went silent.

"You can't be that drunk, if this is your idea of a ruse, it's a shit one" Lila raised her eyebrow looking annoyed.

"Let me get this straight" you leaned back in your chair closing your eyes for a brief moment to organise your thoughts "you think I'm Five's girlfriend and you caught me cheating on him" You glanced at all the faces around the room.

"Yeah, obviously" Lila's face scrunched up in confusion. 

"Well, you're missing one very important piece of that puzzle, I'm not his girlfriend" you shot back.

"You live together" Sloane suddenly piped up

"We're roommates" 

"You're always together, you went on a date last Saturday" Luther joined in. 

"We're friends, it wasn't a date it was a classic car show"

“You’re like a boring old married couple, I saw you arguing over whether to have blueberry or chocolate chip muffins with your afternoon tea last week! ” Klaus looked at you imploringly.

“I’m not boring” You spluttered

"You're definitely knocking boots" Lila raised an expectant eyebrow. 

"No, absolutely not. Wait, you know that" You shook your head confused and turned to look at Sloane who also definitely knew that. You remembered the conversation with them about how you were most definitely not sleeping with Five despite everyone believing the contrary, but you cleared that up a year ago and no one ever brought it up again.

"But our birthday" Klaus sounded mystified, your heart started pounding. 

How did they know about that night, did Five tell them what happened? You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

"What about it?" You feigned innocence. 

"Our master plan to make sure you two emotionally stunted sweethearts finally admitted you wanted to jump each others bones" Klaus looked at Lila who looked panicked at his admission.

“What plan?" You swivelled your head between them.

"Well, we thought Five was being a cowardly little shit and needed a nudge in the right direction " Lila's smile grew cheesy and fake, you were sure she could feel the anger and embarrassment radiating off you.

"It seemed like a giant success, I mean, when I drove you both home Allison and I were worried you were going to get it on in the back seat if I wasn't quick enough" Klaus replied laughing and nodding at his siblings, you were definitely red in the face.

"No!" You said borderline hysterical "that definitely did not happen" This was hands down the most embarrassing moment of your life. 

"Wait, hold on, you aren't cheating on Five?" Diego asked with a hand in his hair.

"No, we're just friends" You desperately wanted to end this conversation “you can ask him if you don’t believe me” you offered. 

"Holy shit" Diego looked equal parts stunned and horrified.

“But you two-“ Luther looked like he was struggling to find words “you’re both- you always-you know!” he exclaimed, his hands waving in front of himself. 

"I need more water" you muttered going to the kitchen. 

What an absolute nightmare, clearly the way you felt about Five was so obvious his own family thought you two were together, you were absolutely fucking tragic. You had to do damage control, the single worst thing you could think of happening in your life right now was the idea of Five looking at you with pity in is eyes if he found out about your feelings. 

"Hey" Lila and Sloane both slunk into the kitchen as you were downing your water "I think we need to talk" 

"What was this master plan Klaus was talking about?" You raised an annoyed eyebrow in their direction.

"Well, it all started last year on the twins birthday"




A/N - thanks for reading if you got this far, most of this was a set up for another, hopefully, two parts to this series.

[kingconia]

ROOK, JADE, LEONA AND MALLEUS WITH S/O, WHO IS LIKE NEUVILLETTE FROM GENSHIN IMPACT

(AKA. IT RAINS, WHEN THEY WANT TO CRY)

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— Everyone seemed more or less intimidated by you and your appearance, but Malleus thought that both of you were a lot of alike actually! You acted similarly, and even Lilia joked you being soulmates;

— Your personality and origins were a big mystery for others, and the only person you spoke about it was the headmaster himself. Only after that he decided that it was logical for you to become the housewarden of the Ramshackle, a new opened house just for you;

— Hiding your true identity and being away from your homeland and the same time was hard. Missing something was a challenge already, but not being able to speak with others about that made it even worse. And since you couldn't cry like other humans... The rain started;

— Malleus didn't connect dots instantly, rain wasn't necessarily a rare occasion in their world after all. But, well, it was strange how more often and often it rained now. And, somehow, the weather always matched your mood. So, he decided to investigate himself. By threatening headmaster. Of course, it worked.

•

”I guess, we are more similar than I originally thought,” Malleus offered you a short smile, sitting down on your right side, shoulders pressing together.

”Lizard and dragon, what a wonderful match,” you muttered, but your voice seemed weak. ”I lived a thousands of years, Malleus. I know what grief means. Yet, grieving dead people is one thing, but the lost world of yours is... Another. That is not something I know how to deal with, for now.”

He couldn't relate, but he found it strangely comforting how similar both of you were. The way you were created, the way you thought.

So, squeezing your hand, he said quietly:

”Then, cry, my little dragon. Cry, while it hurts.”

And the rain continued.

But this time it felt lighter. And so did you.

Jade Leech. 🩵

— He found it intriguing how easy you felt under the water, how much you knew about his world, and how quite comfortable you felt, when he was in his true form;

— Though, he might or might not, missed out a lot of strange quirks of yours—for example, staying under water for hours, without needing to breath—due to his poor understanding of humans;

— But as soon as he realised it, he started watching you more closely. That was when he decided to pay attention to frequent rains and storms, too. How strange... He even went that low to provoke you in a fight, to see if it rains now, when you are sad;

— It did. Jade completely ensured himself that whoever you were, you weren't human.

•

”A water dragon?” He looked at you curiously. ”And not a mere one, but the original one?”

As you nodded, Jade felt the corners of his lips curling in a small smile. Somehow, he was more proud of you than he felt anything else. To think, that you practically seemed to be the Underwater Ruler in your world!

”It must be tough,” he commented, stroking your cheek gently. ”To become nothing in our world, when you were everything in yours.”

You shrugged, leaning in his touch eagerly.

”When you live thousands years, statutes stop bothering you, Jade. But I do miss times, when I were allowed to be in my dragon form freely. I miss the ocean.”

”That is why it rains so much recently, love?”

You nodded, and Jade made sure to kiss both of your cheeks gently, before giving a promise:

”I know, it is not replaceable, dear. But I will take you to our ocean. And then, you will be free for a while again. Will that make that?”

And when it started raining again, right after these words, gentle drops changing with more intense ones, Jade knew: this time, it was the tears of happiness.

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— He felt that something was wrong with you from the first seconds, because the smell was off. It was reminding him of Malleus, but not really? Slightly like Azul's, too, but once again, not too much alike;

— Anyway, Leona had his own suspicions, but he ignored it, because at first you really wasn't that close. For him, you were another minion, and when he realised that you are powerful enough to beat him, he was too mad to care;

— Then, both of you became close, and only then Leona started examining you more closely with each day. He did a lot of researches about sea creatures, trying to understand what he missed out, but couldn't find anything in particular in their world to fit you;

— Much like Malleus, annoyed the headmaster for an additional information, but wouldn't use in against you directly...

•

”This rain is annoying,” Leona hissed, eying you with a poorly hidden expectance. ”I can't nap in the most of the places, because the grass is wet, now.”

You didn't even bat an eye.

”You can always find peace in my arms,” you said in your usual calm tone, not really catching his hint. ”No need to sleep on the ground, Leona.”

”Isn't that strange, though?” He tried again, trying to look as careless as possible. ”You know, in the Afterglow Savanaclaw we have this old saying...”

You raised your brows in a silent question.

”They say, if it rains, then it is the water dragon who cries.”

It was a lie. There was no such saying not in the Savanaclaw, not anywhere else, because his world was lacking a water dragon at all. You knew that, of course. You already sought for finding your own kind here, but failed miserably.

So, your eyes widened in the shock as you stared down at him, gloved hands gripping your cane tightly.

”Well,” Leona looked away awkwardly. ”The water dragon can find their comfort in the lap of the lion, by the way.”

Your breath hitched, when you realised what had he meant.

Leona didn't ask you to start spitting all confessions aloud. He didn't want you to tell stories about your past, unless you wanted to do it yourself. He just offered his company.

”Is that an old saying too?” You asked, trying your best to smile.

”...Yeah. I think so, anyway.”

As you slowly fell on his lap, a forehead pressed to his shoulder, Leona felt first drops of the rain falling on the top of his head again.

Helplessly, he hugged you tighter.

At least, you weren't alone anymore.

Rook Hunt. 💜

— Rook understood that you are an animal from the beginning, he just couldn't understand which one. And that was intriguing;

— It was clear for him that you owned some habits that was animalistic. But whose it was, that he couldn't tell! He only realised that you had a long tongue—sometimes, you darted it out—and missed your, presumably, long tail. You were a water creature in his eyes, too. That's for sure. Rook even started to wonder if you were an alligator...

— As a good hunter, he keeps track of the weather as well, noticing everything. So, yes, another strange thing was the fact that with your arriving it started to rain madly;

— In the end, Rook came to conclusion that whatever you were, your kind didn't exist here. So, he decided to confront you directly. When he realised that you were a special one even in your home... Oh, Rook was so excited.

•

”The most special ones are the most lonely ones, mon doux miracle,” Rook muttered in the crown of your hair, kissing it gently, almost in the motherly way. ”But, oh, don't you worry, mon amour éternel, I would be by your side.”

Both of you soaked in the water completely as it rained terribly. Rook didn't mind. Instead, he dragged both of you in middle of the forest, under the gloomy sky, allowing you to feel every single of your emotions fully, without hiding it.

”Do you hear me?”

”I do.”

You hugged him tightly, and he couldn't help but sigh in the strangest awe, when he realised how much power was hidden inside you all the time. How you restrained yourself all these months.

His dragon. His little, perfect dragon.

”Thank you, Rook.”

”You are welcome, ma belle catastrophe.”

And then, the rain stopped suddenly. Instead, the sun came out, kissing Rook's cheeks lazily as if rewarding him for being able to tame such a terrible thing as you.

He smiled, hiding himself from the sun's rays.

He didn't really need them, when he had his midnight rain already.

[faith369]

ghost x sweet!reader. shes prices daughter and come to the base to visit her father with fresh baked goods for all his military friends too of course ! She catches his eye and might end up in his bed.

I really hope you like this and thank you sharing this cause its making me think unholy things

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

Warning: mdni, nsfw, p in v, orale (fem receiving)

Ghost knew the Captain had a daughter, what he didn't expect was for you to be such a sweet girl, way too pretty for your own good. He watched you laugh at one of Soap's jokes, shifting in his seat, trying to ignore the confined feeling in his pants. The sound of your laugh sent a shiver down his spine. He originally didn't mean to stay, as he wasn't in the mood to engage in conversation. But when he saw you in the break room motioning for him to come in with a sweet smile on your face, he couldn't resist, especially not after you shook his hand the polite girl you are, and he couldn't stop thinking about how soft they are and how they would feel around his cock. You had even managed to convince him to try one of the cupcakes you had baked, and as much as he liked them, they were the last thing on his mind. The dress you had on made your thighs more delicious than a cupcake could ever be. The Captain, who was the whole reason you came here, had left about 30 minutes ago after Laswell had called him about some meeting and because Simon knew how long these could last, he offered him to take you home, something that Price couldn't turn down.

Simon was more than aware that looking at his captain's daughter the way he did wasn't exactly okay, but he couldn‘t stop himself. And it wasn't like you didn't look at him just a tad bit too long for it to be appropriate, to your luck, however, Gaz and Soap were way too occupied with the backed goods to notice it. You found yourself unable to concentrate on the conversation, too busy thinking about your father's Lieutenant. His face was bare, no skull mask in sight. Something inside you made you want to reach out to feel the light stubble that grazed his cheek under your fingers. You were only able to shift your focus when Soap and Gaz started arguing about the last cupcake. Simon kept his eyes on you while you convinced them to share. You were so eager to make everyone happy, he started wondering whether you'd be such a good girl trying to please him.

..........................................................

Simon had a tight grip on your hips, keeping you still while he sucked your swollen clit. Your slick spread around his mouth, as he ate you out like a man starved. Your mewls only spurred him on, making him stick two of his thick digits into your aching cunny. "So wet just for me huh" he dragged his fingers along your walls, painfully slow but still hitting the spot inside you that made you feel dizzy, sweet pleasure just an inch away, but before you were able to grab it, Ghost had pulled out his fingers. You glared at him through half lidded eyes as he licked them clean. Your anger made him chuckle. “I know you wanted to cum, but I also  know that you're a good girl, so you've got to be patient for me”

You wanted to kick or scratch him, but you had a hard time getting your brain to do something other than watching him pull his length out of his boxers, its tip red glistening with precum. He ignored your whines about him being too big and just slipped his cock inside you, trying to keep himself from cumming on the spot at the heat of your tight walls. It felt like he was filling out every inch of you, leaving you no room to breathe as he settled inside you, his tip almost kissing your cervix, before starting to move at a pace that made you dig your nails in his back. "Fuck, we shouldn‘t be doing this.“ Ghost's hips were snapping against yours, the pace he had set turned any coherent thought that you had left into thin air. It didn‘t really matter anyway you had lost the ability to properly act the second simon pressed you against the door and kissed you when you just wanted to ask whether he was ready to bring you home. He was merciless in the way he fucked you, probably out of anger at himself for giving into the temptation of taking you. The growls that left his lips were animalistic, covering the whimpers and mewls that left yours, and still he told you to be quiet.  "Don't want your Dad to hear what you're doing, huh? Seducing his lieutenant to make him stuff you" his hand snaked its way between your hot bodies to play with your swollen almost abused clit. His movements were less controlled than before, he wouldn't admit it, but he was way to deep in pleasure to form a lot of thoughts himself. His skilled hands made your eyes roll back into your head. „Didn‘t sed… y..I“ It felt like he consumed every one of your senses, his big body over you blocking your view , his faint smell of cigarette smoke and sweat in your nose, his cock burried inside you. It was getting too much the knot that had started to form in your stomach a while ago felt constricted.

"Can't even talk anymore, huh?" You clenched down at his words, reaching your breaking point as the orgasm shook through your whole body. You arched your back, somewhere in the back of your mind, you hoped no one heard the way you moaned Simon's name like you were drowning, desperate for air. Simon couldn‘t keep himself from cumming at the way you constricted around him, grunting your name as he filled you up with his hot seed.

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-Requests are open loves <333

-masterlist-

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Tainted Past

Reader Description: he/they, masculine titles, early 20s.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Masculine!Reader

A/n: So this was inspired while I was playing around in Character.ai (I was being delulu as usual), so I guess shoutout to the creator of Mature!Wanda ai for kickstarting my brain again. I haven't write in a while guys pls be nice :')

Warnings: No warnings for now actually, maybe sadge Wanda, Wanda lowkey being bullied.

Summary: Years have passed since Westview and Wanda finally has the chance to settle down and live the normal she had always yearned for. However, that comes with a challenge as many were still wary of her. Along the way she met a young man in his early 20s, whom took pity on the witch despite all odds.

ᗢ----------ᗢ

It was a huge deal when rumors spread about the infamous Scarlet Witch moving into their town. The same witch that brought upon destructions and chaos, the one who enslaved a whole town. The one that the Dracula from Hotel Transylvania would describe as,

"-Nutsy Cuckoo!" Y/n snorted at their friend's description of the witch, "She's a total nutjob, I'm telling you. She went berserk for kids she DIDN'T even have."

"And afterwards went after a child, no, a literal CHILD!" Their other friend added, "Who happens to be America Chavez, who ended up teaming up with her as well. Hence why she's able to even live freely back into society."

"That's crazy..." Y/n said while shaking his head. The were all sitting their usual cafe, gossiping about their latest neighbor.

"I heard she lives across the street from you. Hey, at least she's a hot MILF right?" Their friend Magdalena joked, which made her receive a cookie thrown at her face.

"Shut up, Lena." She only snorted. As both of his friends were snickering, the two of them stopped and their eyes trailed something behind him.

"What?"

"Speak of the devil..." Victor said as he had a little bit of a disgusted look.

Y/n turned around, and there she was. The Scarlet Witch. She hasn't been seen on any media for the past few years, the last time she was seen, she had a long auburn hair, and was wearing her suit. The look she had right now was a striking contrast to her last appearance on the media.

She had cut her hair, it was now dyed blonde, and she was wearing a casual civilian clothes. Y/n felt shivers running down their spine as painful memories flooded his mind.

"She really wants to be normal, huh?" Victor said under his breath.

"I mean... she's kinda-" Victor elbowed Magdalena on her ribs before she could finish her sentence. Giving her a look that says 'don't'.

The whole cafe went silent when she entered the shop, she awkwardly said 'hi' before making her way to the queue. Everything else was a little bit of a blur for Y/n, as for some reason their heart started beating rapidly. Their fist clenched to the point his friend had to snap him out of his thoughts.

"I'm fine." Y/n responded with a faux smile before focusing his attention outside the window. He couldn't help but to focus on Wanda's voice when she ordered.

"I would like something to drink please." He heard Wanda speak, there was a beat of silence.

"Coffee? Tea?" The barista responded, soundingly uninterested and rude. Seems like the Barista wasn't a huge fan of Wanda, as normally the Barista was always so kind to Y/n and his friends.

"O-oh! Coffee, please." Another silence, "Cappucino, hot."

"That'll be $4.50." She could be heard rummaging through her purse and took out a some money to pay.

"I'm assuming you would need my name-"

"We know." The barista said rather coldly. Wanda could be heard clearing her throat nervously and waited for her order. It didn't take long before they called out, "Cappucino for Scarlet Witch."

Y/n glances at the bar, they noticed how tense she was upon hearing her title. The title she wishes everyone would forget. She gave a forced smile before turning and walking back to the exit. Seems like she was nervous, and then the worst possible thing could happen to someone happened to her...

Her purse got stuck on the door handle as she was about to walk out, causing her to spill her beverage. "Shit!" She cursed.

Y/n's two friends couldn't handle their snort upon seeing the tragedy. Wanda glances at them and awkwardly laughs, "Silly me." She says before hastily walking away from the shop.

"She is just adapting well to us mere mortals." Victor said sarcastically.

As much as Y/n wasn't exactly fond of the witch (for personal reasons), they did felt... a hint of sympathy towards her. He looked outside and saw her seemingly cursing at herself for the embarrassing encounter at the cafe.

Oh she's going to take a while to adapt...

ᗢ----------ᗢ

Y/n looked down at the notes their sister sent them and walked down the aisle to find the item. What seem to be a simple errand turned into a full blown grocery shopping, that bitch.

I just wanted to buy some ramen...

He picked up a bunch of items his sisters needed, and picked a pack of ramen for himself. While he was on the cereal section he heard that familiar voice again.

"Hi, ma'am, do you know where I could- O-oh, yes, that's alright have a good day!" He turns his attention to her direction, from the customers to the staff, they were all ignoring her existence. She visibly sighed and gave up on asking people. That's... what she deserves I guess.

He only saw her again as he was about to pay, they were queued just behind her. Crap.

"Sorry ma'am, we take cash only, the machine is broken at the moment." The cashier told her.

"I... I don't have any cash on me right now." She nervously laughs, "Are you sure? Because the customer before-"

"Look if you don't have cash you can pay with apple pay." Seems like the cashier just wanted to torment her, which she did as Wanda sighed in frustration.

"I don't- I don't have that set up on my phone yet." The cashier only shrugged their shoulders. "Fine. How much was-"

"$27.60" Wanda started rummaging through her purse again, desperately trying to find some cash left. She found... $5, ok that's a start. $10, ok we're getting there.

"Hey come on, lady! You're holding up the line!" The guy behind Y/n yelled, making Wanda panic slightly. Y/n closed his eyes, ugh fuckin-

They opened their eyes again, and Wanda was still hastily searching her bag as people got increasingly annoyed at her. They closed their eyes, agh Jesus fucking christ I better go to heaven for this-

"Ok, is there any-" Wanda's sentence was cut off when hand puts down a $50 dollar bill to pay for her checkout.

"You can just pay me back later." Wanda wanted to refuse, but she internally sighed in relief. The cashier gave Y/n the change and Wanda thanked them with the brightest smile. "Don't mention it." They said giving her a polite smile.

As Wanda walked out of the store, she took another glance at the young boy and smiled to herself. She made a mental note to find the youth later on.

ᗢ----------ᗢ

They didn't understand why they had to be so sympathetic to the psycho witch, especially after everything she had put them through. Everyone was doing just fine ignoring her presence, in fact, Y/n had the biggest right out of them all to ignore that crazy, wacko, mentally unstable-

"There you are!"

A familiar voice made Y/n whipped their head to the direction. Oh no... Don't tell me she thinks we're basically friends now. Wanda walked up to him with a smile, Y/n had a natural instinct to tense up. Just the sight of her, made him clenched his jaw.

"I just wanted to properly say thank you." She said, rubbing her hand nervously. She wore a simple red t-shirt, and jeans. Wanda looked like any normal civilian. If you had lived in a cave, unaware of the outside world, the idea that Wanda is capable of such chaos and destruction wouldn't cross your mind. "And uh... for your trouble."

Wanda then handed him cash of what she owes him. He looked at the money and then her. "This is.... $30"

"Oh you can keep it all." The witch said with a slight shake in her voice, she then cleared her throat. "U-unless you prefer it to be precise I can-" She pulled out her phone from her pocket. "I can use that uh... that app, Vimeo?"

Y/n couldn't help but to let out a chuckle, "Venmo. Vimeo is a like a... it's like Youtube." Am I really talking with this lady?

"Ah... Right, right, I... I knew that." She looked at her phone with confused look on her face. Wanda then let out a soft laugh. "Well imagine my confusion."

"Well, thank you. I could definitely use the extra $2." Y/n said with a smile.

"I should be thanking you." Wanda responded, she bit her lip slightly, wanting to continue the conversation with what it seems like the only person who sees her as a human. "I'm Wanda, by the way, Wanda Maximoff." She hold out her hand awkwardly.

"I uhm- I'm your new neighbor, but I- I'm sure you knew that already." She let out a nervous laugh.

Y/n didn't want to talk to the witch any longer than needed, sharing name would mean they were on first name basis. But if there's anything Y/n hated more... Being left hanging when you hold out your had.

"Y/n, nice to meet you, Wanda."

Wanda noticeably beamed at the fact that they didn't just brushed her off.

"Well I should be heading back. I live just across from you." Shit! Why did I say that??

"Oh then I hope to see more of you!" Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-

"Yeah, see you around, Mrs. Maximoff." He said politely, giving her a smile and crossed the street to his house. He internally cursed at himself. Idiot!

Wanda turned around smiling to herself. I made a friend...

---

For the next few weeks, Wanda never fails to greet them whenever she happens to see Y/n pass. She did that to everyone, of course, but no one ever really bothers to respond. Y/n desperately wanted to avoid her, but it was difficult as she continuously try to interact with everyone. Which... to be honest was quite sad.

He doesn't know why he felt bad, but seeing the woman trying so desperately to join society and no one giving her a chance was such a depressing sight to see. Not that Y/n should care, she shouldn't have done what she did. But...

Ugh... It doesn't take much for him to be polite at least.

So Y/n started to return her polite greetings. Whenever he sees her watering her flowers, she greet him with a wave and a smile. And Y/n does the same. They had to admit, seeing her so happy that someone responded was... kind of cute.

Eugh...

It went on for a while, so you could say they were on a friendly term. And Y/n had no plans on furthering that relationship. At least by choice.

"Hi there, Y/n!" She greeted with her usual smile and wave. It had been about 2 months since she lived here. "How's your morning jog?"

"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff. Uh... It was alright, nice weather today."

"I agree. Say, you fancy joining a party? I'm having a housewarming party this evening, you should come. There will be plenty of food." She asked with hopeful eyes.

"Uh..." Say no, say no, what the fuck are you- SAY NO. "I'll have to see, ma'am. I have a pretty packed schedule today."

Wanda tried to hide her disappointment as much as she could. She had heard tons of those excuses for days now, at least he was polite about his rejection. "That's alright, darling! I'm just across the road if you change your mind. And feel free to bring some friends!"

"I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Maximoff. See you around!" Y/n said before going back to their house. They leaned on the closed door and sighed. Their sister looked at them expectantly.

"She invited you as well?" She said with a raised eyebrow.

Y/n sighed before answering, "Yeah..."

"I don't know why she even bothers. Not like anyone would take her up for it." His sister said dismissively as she went back to the living room, settling on the couch.

Y/n joins her and grabs the remote, "Maybe she has change."

"You've got to be one mentally ill fucker to say that, especially coming from you." She added, waiting for him to pick a movie. "Did she hex you or something-"

"I'm perfectly fine." Y/n sighed. "I just... Look she does seems like some woman who's trying to live a normal life."

"But she's not a woman, Y/n. She's a monster." She rubs her temple. "A lot of people gone mad in Westview, I'm sure you remember."

"How could I forget..."

"She could try all she wants, but I won't give her the benefit of the doubt. And I won't stop you if you decide too..." They looked at their sister who smiles at him gently. "The beauty of it is that you have a choice now, none of her victims did."

He looked at the floor, his sister could see the gears in his head moving.

"Though I have to say you are one mad son of a bitch if you did."

ᗢ----------ᗢ

I am one mad son of a bitch.

They thought to themselves as they rang her doorbell. I could still change my mind right? I can run-

"I'll be right there!"

Fuck!

Wanda opens the door, delighted to greet her guest. "Y/n! So glad you could make it."

"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff." They took in her dress, well she does look good. "You look stunning."

Wanda gave him a smile, "Thank you. Please, come in!"

They entered the house, it was cozy, small, homey, there were very little pictures hung up. They did notice one family picture, and what it looks like and old frame of her and her late brother. Her informations was easy to find on the internet, yes Y/n did their research.

The house was decorated for party mode. There was some snack on the table, fruit punch, and a few other things. However, it was missing a key ingredient...

"Sorry, am I early?" He turned to Wanda.

Wanda sighed, "Early is uh... one way to put it. You're the first one here the others must've been late. They said they'll stop by." She puts on a reassuring smile, but Y/n had a feeling she must've felt devastated.

And in fact, Wanda was. This housewarming party was her attempt to prove herself to the neighborhood that she was in fact not a threat, maybe make some friends... But no matter, she had one guest now.

"Take a seat!" She said enthusiastically, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah sure, I'll get some fruit punch, looks really refreshing." The two settled down on the couch, there was a moment of awkward silent between them.

If there's one thing Y/n couldn't take, it was that.

"Here." They passed her the gift bag they had brought for her. "It's an old record player I had lying around, I don't ever use it anymore and I thought it would go with uh..." He searched for the right words, "Someone of your generation?"

Wanda took the gift with a smile and gave him a funny look, "You make it sounds like I'm old." She said jokingly. "But thank you. You didn't have too, but I appreciate it."

It was a red colored Crosley turntable. It was portable, and had a built in speaker. Her heart swelled at their gesture. "There's some vinyls in there as well, I hope you like the Beatles."

"I love the Beatles."

"I'll help you set it up." He said with a kind smile. Wanda decided to put the record player in her living room, perhaps some tune would help set up the mood. They plugged it in and Y/n made her choose the album. Wanda scanned the various albums, looking at the front cover and the back with a smile on her face.

She puts on one album and the song 'Twist and Shout' started to play. "Now this is a party." Wanda said, earning a chuckle from the youth. She then lightly bop her head into the song, twisting her legs like one of those old style dance. For a second she seems to lost her self into the music.

Y/n had always seen Wanda in... sort of a negative light. But seeing her smiling, dancing, just interacting with her on a more personal level... They were starting to see Wanda in an entirely new light.

The woman then turns to face the youth, she had a bright smile on her face as she made a 'come here' motion to him. "Not much of a dancer?"

They let out a laugh and joined Wanda. "I'll have you know I'm an incredible dancer."

Music was the exact ice breaker that they needed, they wen't from keeping their distance to even occasionally twirling each other playfully. Y/n had to admit, he was having fun with the witch. Wanda had a contagious laugh, an intoxicating energy, a smile that could light up a whole room, and she was so so... beautiful-

Why am I thinking about her like this?

"So Y/n, tell something about yourself. I'd like to get to know my neighbors better." Wanda asked once the music ended and it started playing a much slower song in the albums. They sat on the couch with a snack dividing their space.

"Oh I'm just your typical fresh graduate, ma'am. Still trying to find where I'm gonna belong here in the workforce." Y/n responded with a dry chuckle.

"I'm sure you'll find your place." She look down at her drink with a small smile. "Friend of mine always said there's a place for everyone in the world."

The way she said it so softly, made tugged something inside Y/n's heart. She really is just trying to fit in the world like the rest of us.

"And you, ma'am? Who is Wanda Maximoff?" He asked teasingly, getting more comfortable with her each minute. He popped some chips in his mouth, anticipating her answer.

"Me? Oh you know... I'm a retired old psycho witch." She said jokingly.

Y/n couldn't help the snort that came out of them, "Sorry-" Ok. She's got humor.

Wanda laughs and waved him off, "Don't be." She thought for a second before answering properly. "Well... I'm sure my informations are out there. Former Avenger turned villain, was... a threat to humanity once, served my time of redemption and here I am."

"Those are old news." Y/n said. "I'm asking along the lines of, who is Wanda Maximoff. What does she do for fun?"

Wanda tilted her head at his question, tiny smile creeped onto her face. No one... ever really asked her that question before. Wanda took a drink of her fruit punch before answering.

"I..." She cleared her throat, "I enjoy reading in my spare time, I love gardening as you can tell." Y/n listen intently with a soft smile on their face. "I like board games, I have a few collection of those, and... cooking."

She finishes with a smile. "Not the answers you were expecting?"

"Yeah... I honestly expected potions brewing." Wanda bursted out laughing at his response. A genuine hearty laugh. "With cauldrons and everything." He said jokingly, trying to get more amusement out of her.

She's so cute when she laughs.

"Don't tell me you think witches do potions brewing do you?"

"They don't?!" He asked in an exaggerate tone, which amuses Wanda further as she shook her head still with a smile on her face.

She then leaned against the her seat. "Maybe some do."

"Did you also had a wand like Harry Potter?"

The two shared another laugh, and they fell into an easy conversation from there. Wanda learned that Y/n lives with their sister, his parents were retired in Vancouver, Canada. She made a mental note to travel there as it seems like a wonderful place to live. Y/n just recently graduated from University and had planned on moving to New York once they had saved enough money.

Y/n learned that Wanda was also fond of drawing, painting, anything art related. She drew flowers that she grew in her garden mostly, but she occasionally draws a portrait of people. And she was actually pretty good.

Wanda gave him a tour of the house, her kitchen was surprisingly well equipped. Her living room had a 4K flat screen TV. She shyly admits that she enjoys watching movies and shows so she wanted put a little more money on investing in a decent screen. Y/n couldn't judge, they binge watch Netflix all the time too.

The clock soon hits 11 o'clock and Y/n remains the only guest at her party. He felt pity on her, as he could see from all the drinks and food, she really went out of her way only for no one to show up. They would assumed that Wanda felt sad and depressed, but to quite honest, Wanda was so happy that even one person attend her party.

Y/n was kind and polite, they treated Wanda like she was their neighbor instead of some witch. She couldn't be more grateful.

They were playing a game of Jenga when she noticed how late it was. "It's getting late." She told him as he was pulling out a block of wood from the tower with pure concentration, he was even sticking out his tongue.

"Mhmmm... I just need to-" The tower then falls and he groaned in frustration. Wanda laughs at his adorable nature. "You did that on purpose, you just wanted to kick me out!" He jokingly accused her.

"I did not!" She playfully shoved his shoulder. Y/n helped her cleaned up the block of woods before being escorted to the front door by Wanda. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Maximoff. I had a really great time."

"Please, just Wanda." She smiled at him. "And I should be thank you. This is the most fun I've had in a long time."

"So did I." He smiled at her while stepping outside. "If you need anything, I'm just across the road. Don't hesitate to stop by."

"I will, thank you." She smiled sweetly at him. Y/n walked backwards while waving goodbye at her.

"And I want a rematch!" He said before finally turning around to walk back to his house. Wanda laughs saying 'Of course' under her breath and closed the door.

She leaned against the door and let out a happy sighed. I really made a friend!

Smut next chapter homie? 👀

[sansaorgana]

hullo, i adore your gale cleven stories! could you please write a buck falling in love with future wife story? meeting, proposing, + all of the little things that makes him love her. maybe she works on base and they meet there? idk. many thanks!!

hiii 😌 sorry it took me so long to go back to writing requests 🙉 your request is an idea for a long fic with many parts so I tried to fit it into a one-shot and it came out pretty long so the proposal part kinda didn't make it but it's mentioned 👌🏻

I currently have quite a few requests and I'm slowly working on them!!! 💛

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

Not being able to fall asleep, Buck was laying in bed and kept staring at the celling, thinking of you. He lately couldn't stop thinking of you at all and he wanted it to remain his secret but it was also affecting his functioning on daily basis. Pilots shouldn't get distracted like that.

It wasn't love at first sight or anything of that sort. You were handing him coffee each morning and he had always been nothing but polite but – let's face it – most of the time he treated you like air. You were there because you had to, because all of you had to. It was your job to be there and you were nothing special amongst all the other men and women working at the base. He admired women's courage to sign up to help men while they were at war but he didn't even remember your name correctly.

Until that one rainy grey morning when everything seemed to go as bad as possible and you spilled the hot coffee on Buck Cleven.

"Goddamit!" he hissed and looked down at his now stained shirt. The stinging pain and the dampness of the fabric weren't very pleasant either.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry, Major," you gasped and panicked inside.

Major Cleven looked up to lay his blue eyes on you and you batted your eyelashes, stunned at how beautiful they were. He thought you did that to soften him up in a feminine manner. And his heart indeed grew softer at the sight of your face.

"It's fine," he nodded even though it wasn't. "I'll go change and when I'm back, have another one for me."

"You sure you want me to hand it to you, sir?" you joked, cheered up by the visible lack of his anger.

"We all get shaky hands sometimes," he smiled at you and left the queue. You felt bad about the fact he had to go out on the rain again and that his shirt was ruined because of you.

You personally washed it and made sure the stains went away. He had no idea about it but women responsible for the laundry were your friends. Actually, you didn't want him to know because you felt like it was a little odd on your part… So you sneaked in to the room where he had been sleeping and you placed the folded shirt on his bed carefully. You thought you were alone there but you heard someone clearing their throat behind you so you turned around and faced Major Buck Cleven himself. Your cheeks started to burn out of embarrassment.

"Major Cleven," you looked down like a child caught on stealing candy.

"Miss…"

"(Y/L/N)," you introduced yourself quietly.

"Miss (Y/L/N)," he nodded, "may I ask what you're doing?"

"I… I brought you fresh laundry, sir," you looked up at him. He seemed to be a little amused with you as he was casually chewing on a toothpick.

"I had no idea you were responsible for that, too."

"No, usually I am not, sir," you shook your head.

"Is it related to our little coffee incident perhaps?" he approached his bed and glanced at the perfectly folded and ironed shirt that seemed to be a shade lighter than before from all the chemicals you had used to get rid of the stains.

"Well, no point of lying, although I did not mean for you to know, Major… Well, I…" you took a deep breath in. "I washed it," you confessed, awkwardly.

"I can see that," he chuckled. "It's a shade lighter," he commented.

"I am so sorry, sir."

"I am the one who's sorry for your pretty hands. If that's what your washing did to my shirt, I don't want to know what it did to them," he looked down at your fingers that were playing nervously with the hem of your jacket. There was a long pause of silence between you until he finally raised his eyebrows and pointed at your hands. "Show me?" he asked.

You were a little taken aback by that request. And a little ashamed, too, because indeed your hands looked a bit rough from the laundry chemicals. You raised your hands for him to see, though.

"Ouch," he shook his head. "You shouldn't have done that," he looked deep into your eyes and you thought you'd faint any given second. They were so ocean blue, so easy to drown in.

"I'm sure your hands are no better, Major," you swallowed thickly. "Rough from the piloting and… everything."

"That's how pilot's hands should look like, miss (Y/L/N)," he pointed out and you hid your hands from his sight quickly.

"Yes, you're risking your life out there every other day and the least I could do was washing a shirt that I had previously ruined… Sir."

"Was it the first shirt you ruined?" Major Cleven took a step closer and your heart skipped a beat when you realized he was getting closer to you on purpose.

"Well… No," you didn't want to lie to him. You had spilled coffee on a few men before.

"And you washed all of these shirts, I'm safe to assume?" he asked.

"No, sir," you pursed your lips for a moment to stop them from shivering. He raised an eyebrow at you. "None of the men were so kind about it," you told him.

It wasn't really the truth. Major Cleven didn't get angry at you but none of the men really did. He just captivated you with his beautiful eyes. That's why you knew you acted pathetic to wash his shirt personally and didn't want to get caught.

But just because there was a war raging around you, it didn't change the fact you were a woman with your own heart and soul, your own needs and desires, your yearning and romantic ideas. You had a crush on him from the moment he screamed "Goddamit" in that deep voice of his. As silly as it sounded.

You couldn't remember the last time you had felt something so… real and not war-realted. Something that wasn't stress, fear, worry or sadness.

"We all work hard here. There was no need to be rude about a small accident," Major Cleven explained. "And your job is as important as mine here."

"Hardly, sir," you snorted at that because it was just ridiculous. But when you looked up to meet his gaze, you could see that he was serious about it.

"You shouldn't argue with a Major, should you?" he teased and you rolled your eyes a little.

"I suppose so. But my ma's always been saying I have a big mouth," you cracked a smile and he looked a little surprised before smiling back.

"Well, well, well, who would have thought?"

"Everyone who knows me outside this base, sir."

"Well, I hope it's going to be me one day, too, then," he winked and then walked past you as if nothing had just happened. "I'm sorry, I have to fill some papers."

"Sure, sir," you stuttered out and watched him walk out of the door. You touched your cheeks with the palms of your hands. They were as hot as if you had a fever.

Since then, you two would have little conversations like that here and there. You would find out more and more about each other and Buck quickly started to get attached. He loved your laugh, the little wrinkles around your eyes whenever you smiled at him, he loved your accent, your curls straight out of a magazine cover, he loved your soft fingers when you were handing him a coffee, he loved your jokes and how devoted you were to help around the base. The sound of your voice was making his every day better and each morning he waited for you to lay your eyes on him.

And now he couldn't sleep because he remembered something that had happened earlier that day when he was up in the air above Germany and one of the missiles almost hit his plane. He watched it explode in front of him and his only thought was that if it had actually killed him, he would die without you knowing how much you meant to him.

He didn't mean to fall in love because it was a distraction. But he could also die any day. There was no point and it would only bring pain to everyone involved. And yet, he was not immune to your charm.

"You look like shit, have you even slept?" Bucky asked during breakfast.

"No," Buck admitted and sighed. He was holding a cup of warm coffee in his hands, still angry at the fact that today it hadn't been you handing it to him. There was a very long queue waiting in your line and some other woman handed a cup to him without even asking him if he wanted one.

"What's wrong?" Bucky started eating as he glanced at his friend's full plate of untouched food.

"I think I might have fallen in love."

Bucky laughed at first but then he stopped, realizing that Buck's face was as serious as ever.

"Oh, fuck," Bucky wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back on the chair to examine his friend's face and posture. He looked troubled. "Is it that girl you always talk to?"

"You've noticed?" Buck raised an eyebrow at him.

"Everyone has. We were betting on when you two would… you know," Bucky grinned.

"And that is one of the reasons why I hate gambling," Buck wasn't pleased to find out. He felt like it was disrespecrful to you. "What did you bet on?"

"That you never confess your feelings and going to be sad about it your whole life," Bucky teased. It wasn't what he really placed his bet on but he wanted to motivate his friend.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Buck sighed and placed the coffee cup down before standing up and approaching you. You were handing out coffee to the men waiting in line but he walked up to you from the side so you turned around with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Major. Don't think you can fool me, I know you've already had a cup," you smiled at him.

"Are you free this weekend?" Buck asked because he had known the answer. You had mentioned to him the other day that you would leave the base for the upcoming weekend.

"I am, sir," you nodded. God, he even loved how you would always address him "sir" or "Major". Something about it was making him feel weak and absolutely crazy about you.

"I have a weekend pass, too," Buck lied. He didn't but he was going to make sure he'd get one. He hadn't had any day off since he came to the base so Colonel would give it to him surely.

"Oh, nice, sir," you batted your eyelashes. This time you did that on purpose.

"Would you like to go to London with me? I've never been there," he proposed and the man who was taking coffee from you at that moment, froze for a second and widened his eyes at Major Cleven. Then he smirked, waiting for your response as much as Buck.

"I… Ugh… Well… Sir, I…" you hated yourself for not being able to articualte yourself properly. "I would love to, Major Cleven," you said finally with a smile.

At first you wanted to tell him it would be inappropiate. And that you actually planned on visiting your family. But then you remembered you were at war and he could die any day. No one cared about being appropiate. And your family would understand, surely.

"Whoo!" The man taking coffee from you cheered and you gave him a scolding look. He blushed and walked away as fast as possible.

"I will gladly go, Major," you repeated yourself, "but you better remember I'm a proper lady, sir."

"Oh, of course," Buck nodded.

There you were, his proper lady. Sleeping on his chest in a London's hotel room. He watched you breathe peacefully as he caressed your hair. The morning rays of sunshine were creeping in through the curtains and he wished to stop the time. He wished to lay with you forever like that. He didn't want to go back to reality.

You moved a little in his arms and he saw your eyelids opening slowly.

"Good morning, my proper lady," he teased as his fingertips caressed your bare back.

"Good morning, Mr. Good Boy," you teased him back and yawned before rubbing your eyes. "What time is it?"

"Still quite early. We don't have to leave yet," Buck answered.

"I'm glad," you bit on your lower lip and looked up to meet the gaze of his beautiful eyes. "It was the eyes," you admitted.

"Hm?"

"I fell for the eyes mostly," you confessed in a whisper.

He didn't say anything for a while. He was left speechless at you being so open with your feelings; he felt like the luckiest man on earth.

"I'm glad you fell for me," he decided to be playful to hide how weak you were making him feel. You raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. "Because now we have to get married."

"Oh, you Americans," you rolled your eyes jokingly. "I wasn't the first girl you slept with, come on," you giggled.

"But you were the first proper lady, for sure," he tickled you a little and you cupped his face to place a kiss upon his lips.

"Don't joke with me like that," you whispered. "Because I'll really want to marry you and then I won't leave you alone. I'll fly to America and follow you everywhere like a maniac," you half-joked.

"You promise?" Buck's eyes softened and his voice sounded very serious. You watched him carefully as his hand gently fixed one of your reckless curls. God, he really meant that.

"And what will you tell our kid? How did daddy meet mummy?" you asked.

"Well, she spilled coffee on me and batted her eyelashes at me. I was practically sold," Buck pulled you closer to place a kiss on the top of your head.

"Doesn't take much for you to fall in love, Buck Cleven. Makes me seriously worried about your fidelity," you teased.

"You fell for my eyes. Do you have any idea how many other men have blue eyes?" Buck laughed.

You laughed, too, because he had a point. And then you got serious again and caressed his cheeks with your fingers before pressing your forehead to his.

"Well, none of them is Buck Cleven."

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[flamingpudding]

Ghost Hunting Vigilantes

Ouija Board Prompt Idea Continuation...? Maybe!

Follow up part directly to this: Ghost Hunting Vigilantes #2

A/N: You guys are awesome. Comments and Reblogs gave me so much inspiration I ended typing this down during Lunch Break. Also I just might have wanted to image Tim going all out on the ghost investigation, I blame watching to many TFIL Overnight videos...

You would think that as Ghost King Danny would be able to learn from his mistakes, and he really could learn from his mistakes but for some reasons, this was something he was not learning from as he floated above the vigilantes curious. He wasn't going to mess with them again, Lady Gotham had beat that into his skull at least. Not like he did the first time but apparently the old city spirit was rather protective of her 'knights'.

Still their first meeting had gotten the Ghost King curious. It wasn't just about the matter with the Red Hood Guy, something he had promised Lady Gothom to take care of as compensation once he figured out what was up with him. But these guys seemed to have gotten an interest in ghost communications now.

So a couple weeks later he was floating invisible once again above them watching the RR Teen - by now he had learned that RR stood for Red Robin and he had snickered at the realization that his hero name was also the name of a Dinner - was laying out cat balls all around the room before setting up some other devices.

The Kid, Robin, was sitting cross legged and arms crossed on the ground and looked very grumpy. Danny could hear the kid mutter something about Pit Demons and that they should get rid of them instead of trying to communicate. The kid had yelled that before and Lady Gotham had never explained that in her lectures about how he should treat her 'knights'. What were Pit Demons? Was that a ghost variant his kingly tutors had failed to tell him about? If they were his subjects and tormenting humans he would need to deal with them, before the GIW became aware of them.

The one in blue, Nightwing if he remembered correctly, was laying out the Ouija Board again at the same place it lay last time. Danny noticed that the guy was looking at the board with curious confusion and for a moment the Ghost King wondered if he had left some traces on the board when his own ectoplasm soaked it.

"Think that ghost will appear again?" The girl in purple was also there again and next to her was another girl dressed in darker colors. Spoiler and Orphan according to Tucker and the city spirit.

"It's a Pit Demon. Stop calling it a ghost." Robin cut it glaring heated at them all. Danny muffled a snicker. The poor kid was definitely not very good at handling the ghostly things but by saying the Ghost King was Pit Demon the kid appeared to be braver about the whole situation these vigilantes were 'investigating' and setting themselves up for.

"I am more worried that Replacement got scammed buying all these things." Red Hood huffed as he was turning around and looking at a controller-like thing in his hands. Danny floated closer looking over the tall guy's shoulder. The thing had five LEDs in different colors and EMF Meter was written on it. Huh, was that thing like the Fenton-Finder? Well his parents had to get the idea for their inventions from somewhere.

A high pitched beep resounded in the room and all eyes turned to Red Robin who was finishing up setting a small box with an antenna. Danny recognised this one from online ghost hunting videos Sam has made him watch as a joke, a REM Pod. Oh so all the stuff they laid around the room including the cat balls were options for him to use? That was pretty nice of them considering the first time they were just playing around with a Ouija Board.

"We are all set up and good to start." Red Robin said as he stood up facing the rest of the vigilantes proudly and Danny arched an eyebrow. "We can now investigate if this 'ghost' is a Pit Demon or has anything to do with the Lazarus Pits or Water and what they want here in Gotham! I missed out on getting a sample last time but hopefully they will be willing to give me one this time."

The Lazarus' what now? Danny blinked at the teen stunned. He had only played a joke on them and Lady Gotham had already sorta punished him for it. If getting hit by a ghost club and lectured on knightly etiquette counted as punishment, which in his opinion did. Why were they making such a big deal out of this anyway?

"Don't we need to… like open a veil and introduce ourselves?"

"No."

"Oh come on Baby Bird. We have to be polite."

"Says the fucker who secretly attempted to use the Ouija Board behind our backs." Red Hood grumbled turning on the controller in his hand and nearly dropped it as the LEDs all started to glow and it let out a long drawn out beep. Danny blinked at it, he was still floating around the tall guy's shoulders.

"Fuck! The hell is with that thing?"

"Oh! Oh! The ghost is already here!"

"It is a Pit Demon."

All the vigilantes suddenly looked a lot more on alert, Danny held back a chuckle as he floated away from Red Hood and over to Nightwing. The LEDs went down to two and Danny suppressed a hum in curriousity. Did Red Hood have a signature that thing was picking up on? Was the guy a halfa in the making? He didn't appear to have any of the signs Vlad had told him about once.

"Hey so are you the one we talked to last time?"

Seeing the board as the closest thing to communicate by him, he reached out and moved that wooden piece to YES. The vigilantes looked among themselves and Danny floated over to the kid that started nervously playing with a cat ball that had been placed near him, wondering if he could send out like a calming aura for the kid.

Lady Gotham hadn't needed to hit him that hard, seeing the kid now made the Ghost King feel guilty for scaring the poor boy the way he did. Even if he didn't know what all that Lazarus Stuff was about yet. He mentally noted that down, maybe Clockwork, Pandora or one of the annoying Observants had an idea.

"So are you a Pi-"

"Are you okay?" Nightwing cut in, interrupting the question Red Robin was going to ask and Danny blinked. Huh that was new. It's been a while since anyone aside from his sister and best friends asked him that.

He floated towards the RR teen and he lightly touched the REM Pod's antenna, it let out a different pitched beep than it had before causing the teen that stood by it to jump up and turn around staring at it with wide eyes. "I didn't touch it!"

Spoiler rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't, Mr. Ghost did."

"The ghost could be a girl for all we know."

"It's 16."

"The voice we heard last time sounded like a male teen though."

"It is a Pit Demon, it most likely lied to us."

Rude, Danny didn't lie. He picked up one of the cat balls, it started instantly lighting up because of the movement, and lightly threw it at the kid that caught the ball on reflex. Wide eyed they all stared at the still blinking ball. "Did…. did the ghost just fucking throw that at Demon Brat?"

"I only ever saw in videos how ghosts lightly touch it to make it blink. I have never seen a ghost throw it like that."

Danny snickered into his hand to muffle it. Robin suddenly dropped the ball like it had burned his hand glaring at nothing as his eyes wandered over the room. "Show yourself Pit Demon!"

He floated over to Nightwing and the Ouija Board again, passing Red Hood who was still holding the EMF Meter that hit all five LEDs for a moment and beeped when he passed by. Making the tall guy jolt and stare down at it. He swiftly moved the wooden piece to NO.

After last time and the beating Lady Gotham gave him with her ghost club, he was not going to show himself. Not even with a little ectoplasm-avatar blob form. Okay maybe he will later on, when he was sure they wouldn't suddenly start attacking it again. He didn't see any of his parents' weapons with them but he wasn't going to risk it. Considering what Red Hood had said earlier, Red Robin might have bought some more stuff he had not shown or laid out yet.

"I demand that you show yourself, Demon!" The kid was pulling out his katana looking ready for a fight.

Now that was rude. Danny was a half ghost. Not a Demon. They were an entirely different species. Sure they were sort of a part of the Infinite Realms but like Ghost are formed from ambient ectoplasm, strong wills and emotions. Demons were like a living breathing species that needed to eat actual food like humans and not entirely made of ectoplasm.

Danny didn't move a single finger to respond to Robin's demand, silently scoffing.

"They are not ghosting us now are they?" Nightwing carefully asked after the silence had dragged on. Red Robin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear if you made them leave, I will not include you the next time we investigate this 'Pit Demon' as you call them."

"Come on guys! We can't give up now. Maybe we can call them back?" Spoiler added, Orphan next to her nodded enthusiastically.

"This thing is still glowing on two LEDs." Red Hood added holding up the EMF Meter for the rest of them to see.

"So it's still around?"

"Probably."

There was more silence and an idea sparked in Danny's head as he suppressed a snicker and carefully floated over to the REM Pod making sure to avoid Red Hood and not alerting the thing in his hand. He crouched by the box, studying it for a little bit and making sure not to touch it to accidentally set it off too soon.

"It's been too quiet. Are you sure it didn't leave?"

"Still on two LEDs."

"This demon is a coward."

"You're not making it better Baby Bird."

"We should have gotten Signal to come too. He probably could have told us for sure if they are still around or not."

"Maybe we should pack up and try another time again?"

"But we didn't even get the ghost's name!"

Taking this as his que to give a sign of 'life' from him again, Danny touched the REM Pods antenna with a certain rhyme in mind. He wasn't hitting the notes correctly but the pitches were different enough from each other that these vigilantes would recognise what he was doing.

They jumped at first at the sudden noise until slowly realization dawned for some of them. The girls started to laugh after a moment and Red Hood also chuckled with the realization. Nightwing didn't look exactly ecstatic but he did seem ready to burst out laughing. Robin looked rather confused and annoyed and Danny wondered if the kid had any meme knowledge while Red Robin groaned but then appeared to smile in good humor.

Once Danny stopped playing with the REM Pod, Red Robin walked over to a table and put the case under it on top. He opened it and placed a raidio looking like thing on the table as well as a camera with a screen on it.

"Now, Mr. Ghost. I know you have a voice we heard before but you seem to appear to prefer not talking to us directly and whatever made you talk last time doesn't seem to be around tonight. So I have a spirit box and a SLS Camera additionally prepared here." Red Robin switched on the 'radio' and it started making white noises filtering through radio channels, he turned back towards the room holding the camera up with the screen facing the teen. The other vigilantes also appeared stunned by how prepared Red Robin was. Danny could only blinked as he realized that Red Robin was pointing it directly at him and for a second he wondered if that thing was actually picking up his movements or if it only picked up static or blurred images like the cameras back at home that were not old film.

"Let's have a talk this way, shall we?"

-Seriously?- Danny muttered making sure he was using ghost speech so they wouldn't hear him only to slap his hands in realization over his mouth as the Spirit box statically repeated his words understandable for them.

Wide eyed he stared at Red Robin who grinned triumphantly at him, he was still invisible at least... right?

[nyarumie]

Ruined Flowers, Beautiful Flowers.

hoshina soshiro x f!reader — 3.6k words. Mentions of stabbing, reader had an outburst, attempt at angst, established friendship, extreme fluff at the end because i cant stand making my characters suffer. Not proofread!

Author's Note: It's my first time writing something involving drama, feedbacks are highly appreciated! I tried my best and got carried away with the length. 💔

Author's Reply: A request from anon here. Kinda hit way too close to home when you said reader is afraid of falling in love 😭 (also guys pls send me Narumi stuff too I want to make more content for my guy)

Ask box is open! Also cross-posted on ao3.

Cheers erupted from your platoon, exhausted strength from the fight seemingly replenished as you dealt the final blow to the Honju once again. Their eyes sparkled with victory, anticipation filling the air as they immediately chatter to plan another celebration for your win. Familiar words of praise reach your ears, but none of them truly reach your heart. What's there to praise about when you're just doing work as expected?

You offer a soft smile to your platoon who is now approaching you, finally engaging yourself in chatter. You were never one for loud occasions, but you have a reputation to keep. They went on about your elegant strikes in battle, your speed and agility that beats even the fastest of lightning, and the reputable “silent, but deadly” strides you have.

“Man, I sure would always keep my distance from our platoon leader! Might get caught up in her Kaiju kill with how silent she attacks, y'know?” one of them joked, a series of awed agreements emerging from the others.

That's right, keep your distance. Getting too close… might just kill anyone.

You close your eyes as you listen, basking in the enthusiasm exuding from your officers. To them, the hushed strides you've perfected in battle is nothing more than a technique. To you, it's just the one thing that keeps your peace, and no one will be able to understand it the way you do.

Except, there's this one person—too persistent for your liking, so much more than your comrades asking you to mentor them. Scratch that, he's not persistent; he's simply way too highly attentive, it scares you just how much about you he already had figured out.

From a distance stands Hoshina Soshiro, the esteemed Vice Captain of the division you belong to. His watchful eyes never miss anything. You fail to ignore his all too familiar peering gaze even as you try to indulge yourself in the antics of your platoon. You don't understand, you never will. Why does he desperately want to unravel you? Closing your eyes really was the best option. That way, you'll avoid making eye contact with him lest he sees through you again, as if he's starting to pick up the puzzle pieces bit by bit. Curiosity getting the best of you, you peeked one eye open to see what he's up to.

Ah, he's now making his way to you. Well, damn him.

Concluding that you have no escape from what's about to come, you sighed and bid your platoon a (short) farewell, leaving them the promise of a celebratory feast tonight. You walked and met him halfway.

Vice Captain Hoshina was already grinning from ear to ear when you neared him, as if he wasn't mentally piercing through your own mind moments ago. You pouted. In an instant, his arm is heavily draped over your shoulder, his other hand playfully ruffling your hair. 

A series of complaints were heard from you, only causing him to let out devilish laughs and made an even more mess of your hair. 

“Vice Captain! It took me almost an hour to fix and style my hair, and we have a celebration to attend later!” you complained, begging him to stop.

“Fine, fine! Ya did another excellent job today. No wonder Captain Ashiro always trusts you a hella bunch.” he said, satisfied with today's operation. “However…” 

And there he goes.

He stood too near you, still hearing clearly enough despite how hushed his voice became. “You're a lot worse today. Still not spillin' the beans? I'm your closest friend here, ya know?”

You looked away from him, finding a car ruined to smithereens apparently far more interesting than whatever this is right now. “Must be your imagination. The Honju just so happened to be tougher today.”

Lie. Today's Honju had a lower fortitude compared to last time. You both know that. And you both know there's no fooling him from what he saw.

You stood atop the Kaiju's corpse after neutralizing it. Back facing everyone, holding your head up high. To the rest of the Division, you were basking in your victory, trying to keep your breath steady after all the action that took place. But there was no fooling Soshiro's eyes.

His keen gaze traveled over your entire figure. Breath ragged, chest heaving as if deprived of oxygen, a clenched grip on your thin, sharp sword forged akin to that of a rapier—in contrast with your lax hand holding your pistol, careful to not fire a shot. You looked like you were in complete agony and exasperation. Soshiro knows that you were heavily sobbing. Silently. Alone. Exactly how you do things your way.

You were only snapped out of your unrest when cheers finally erupted from your platoon. The smile you offer, to a stranger's eyes, is soft and gentle. To him, it's sad—as if it was a struggle for you to smile wide without hesitancy. Your deadly silence in battle wasn't so silent today at all. He can hear it far too well, that each slash of your blade and each shot of your pistol is accompanied with restlessness, each attack heavier than the last.

The Honju has been reported to have no vitals detected, but you kept slashing and shooting, ‘just in case’. Outrageous. You were literally taking out whatever storm is in your head to the Honju's corpse. Not that he minded the Honju, but he cared for you. He is your friend, you can pour your heart and mind out on him instead of a corpse of a monster. Why won't you? Why is the inside of your mind much more different from what you show others? How do you do it?

He doesn't understand. Or maybe he does, but you won't let him in. He wants to be with you, even at your lowest. And he's already failing.

“I see. If the Honju is indeed tougher today,” he started, “then report to me later, Platoon Leader. Post-celebratory report will do. Take it easy for now.” 

Was he upset? He rarely addresses you by your position. You carefully turned your head back to him, afraid that he's finally fed up with your bullshit. You're insufferable. Maybe one day he'll ask you to serve another Division. But instead, you see him grace you with a real, soft smile. It makes you want to cry.

'Take it easy for now.' You wish you could unhear it. You hate how easy his words always go through you. How can you take it easy when you try so hard to not be a burden? You don't want him to know any more than he already does.

“...I've no need for rest. But thank you.” You finally feel the tiredness creeping its way through your system.

Post-neutralization banquets are rare, happening annually at most. Somehow, your platoon members managed to smooth talk their way in securing an approval for tonight's celebration. For what, you don't know.

Everyone had their eyes on you when you entered the hall, bright smiles and expectant faces greeting you. This unnerved you, knowing full well what they're requesting with their doe, puppy eyes.

“Ahem. If you're expecting a heartwarming speech, I'm not the person for the job. You all should wait for the Vice Captain for that.” you said, earning a handful of groans from your members.

A hand suddenly lightly ruffled your hair, an action you’ve grown quite accustomed to. “Wait no more! Allow me to handle things, then!” the Vice Captain cheerfully said. Taking this as your cue to sit down, you excused yourself from him, feeling his slightly disappointed gaze trailing you as you sit.

Cheers echoed from the team as he finished his short spiel, everyone’s hunger evident as they hurriedly fill their plates with food. Your tablemates are no different, they're rushing here and there to get the best pieces of meat and pour each other some drinks. You decided to wait, not wanting to contribute to the mess the hall has become.

A plate filled with juicy meat and a bowl of your favorite stew was placed in front of you. Now someone is also taking up your space? About to reprimand whoever placed them in your eating area, you looked up to see that it was just the Vice Captain.

“Eat up. Keep waitin’ for the chaos to calm down and ya will be left with nothin’ to munch on.” He sat beside you, carrying his own set of food.

“Thanks. But I can grab my own fill just fine.” That's what you said, but still started eating what he gave you.

“Mhm… Just accept it in earnest. You never happily accepted any help I offered ya.”

“That’s because no one can give me the help I need.” you absentmindedly said, almost mumbling to yourself. Soshiro remained silent, now looking at you instead of his food. Maybe you shouldn't have said that. “... Let's just eat.” 

As the end of the celebration approached, he wanted to test the waters; he got up and collected the plastic flowers adorning the tables, wrapping them around a ribbon he miraculously spotted somewhere—his own version of a small, makeshift bouquet. 

He sat down beside you again, earning your attention. You raised your brow at him upon seeing the makeshift bouquet in his hand, a silent question about what he's up to.

“Ta-da! They aren't the real deal, but I did a pretty good job, won't ya say? This one's yours, ya look good with it.” He made a gesture for you to take the flowers, which you did, studying it closely for a while.

“Vice Captain, you shouldn't be taking the establishment’s props.” you said, frowning. “We should get back to your office. Let's get today's report over with.” 

Internally sighing, he doesn't know if you're purposely acting dense or just straight up ignoring his subtle advances. Maybe he needs to tell you outright. You once told him that words and actions come hand-in-hand.

It's surprisingly cold tonight even through the heat of the celebrations. He went outside the hall, leaning against the corridor’s wall to wait for you. You told him you have unfinished business to take care of, which is scolding your far too drunk officers who took their drinking competition to another level. Groans and wails from the inside resounded through the door, probably from officers begging you to lighten their punishment. 

Finally, he saw you stepping out of the hall. No makeshift bouquet in hand spotted. “Where’d ya put it?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Oh, the flowers? I told you we’re not supposed to take them. So I kinda dismantled the ribbon and put them back in place…” you said, looking away guiltily.

That surprisingly stung, despite knowing you didn't want to intentionally hurt him. He knows you’d leave it there, but dismantling them is another. He struggled putting it all together, after all.

“Makes sense. Let's get the report done.” he smiled, ruffling your hair again. This time, it's his way of saying ‘it’s okay, don't feel guilty about it’.

You threw him a look of concern, the playfulness absent from his smile. “I didn't—” 

“Are ya cold?” he suddenly asked. Before you can even answer, he removed his work jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “Please put the sleeves on. Yer hands are shakin’ so bad.”

Oh, you didn't even notice. Silently, you put them on as he asked. It's so… large. And oddly comforting. You hated it, somehow. The sleeves extend way beyond your hands and it would look like a mini dress if zipped up.

Satisfied with this, the Vice Captain started walking, pace slow. You followed suit, opting to walk behind him. You looked confused. You feel overwhelmed. Why is he always doing so much? You prefer your friendly banters, the idiotic laughter you share with each other after stupid musings; you dislike the foreign feeling and lingering intention in each action he does towards you. You don't understand.

He once gave you a poetry book about flowers, saying it was like a reflection of yourself. It wasn't. You told him to stop mocking you.

You never asked for company on boring work days, but he was somehow finding his way towards you, offering an invitation to train new recruits. He knew you loved helping others, imparting your knowledge and watching them grow. You turned him down, saying he's more than capable of mentoring them himself.

Once, you were feeling a bit too competitive. Your platoon urged you on, daring you to make a bet with the Vice Captain. The losing platoon must prepare a banquet according to the winning platoon’s wishes. He can hit you in your sword sparring as many times as he can, but hit him once in the given time limit and you win. But you just so happen to miraculously strike him at the last second. He lost on purpose. But you didn't attend the banquet.

Then a tragedy occured. A citizen hiding from the Honju was left undetected, causing you to accidentally inflict a fatal wound on them as you attacked the Honju. Had you known, you would've prioritized their safety. He didn't have to cover this up. He was there. He should be reprimanding you. You were at a loss then.

You bump into his figure, letting out a sound of surprise. You were already inside his office? Perhaps your mind has been too occupied all the way here, you don't even know if he said something on the way here or when he opened the door for you.

Soshiro looked too serious at the moment. You shouldn't have agreed to report to him, because the Honju being tougher today is bullshit. This leaves you with nothing to report, and god you want to miraculously vanish into thin air at this instant.

“What's goin’ on in that li’l head of yours? It's unlike ya to get so out of focus.” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Vice Captain. I’d like to proceed with the report, please.”

“But ya don't have anything to report. I saw it well with my own two eyes.”

He can barely hear you, your voice only a mere whisper. “...Then report to me instead, Soshiro.”

He walked closer to you, your breath almost stopping. Why is it like this?

"What do ya want to know? I'll give you everything." 

Your fists clenched in frustration at his words. He's doing this on purpose, saying something that totally means another.

“Why… Why do you insist on staying by my side? Why do you care so much? I don't understand. You're my friend, but you're doing so much for just a friend. Why do you do these things? The book—the poetry book you once gave me, saying it reminded you of me—it doesn't make sense! It's full of flowery words, it speaks of beauty, but none of those are me. You’ve seen what mess of a person I am. You say you’d give me everything, but I can't even give you a single thing, Soshiro!”

You grabbed the front of his shirt, lowering your head as you failed to stop the tears from flowing.

“You should've let me rot in bed when you found me in a sickly state. Should've reported me to the higher ups for making a careless mistake. Should've distanced yourself from me, I did nothing but unintentionally hurt you when all you wanted was to look out for me.” 

You bit your lip, not wanting to spill more than you should've. A warm pair of arms went around you, causing you to cry harder, your body relaxing against your wishes.

“I see. Do my actions confuse you?” he softly asked. 

“...I can't accept them.” 

“That doesn't answer my question.” 

Still sobbing, you answered, “I don't know. You confuse me. I don't want to rely on anyone. I don't know what to make of them. I hate the lingering, unspoken intentions. I hate not understanding. I hate pushing you away, but it feels overwhelming when you're too close. I hate the comforting feeling you give me. Please don't waste your energy on me. I’m filled with dirt, my hands are covered in more blood than you know about.”

You’ve never spilled this much before, Soshiro noted. He thinks that's a lot to unpack, but he has all the time in his hands to walk you through it. You were a ticking time bomb, the impending explosion only delayed by taking out your anguish on all the Kaiju you’ve slayed. 

Soshiro caressed the back of your head, speaking. “Then I’ll help ya understand. I like you and I like bein’ with ya, even if you think otherwise. If you don't wanna rely on me, then don't. But I’ll be here when ya need me. I’ll walk you through everythin’ slowly if you’ll allow me. And I still think you're as beautiful as the flowers I keep tellin’ you about.” 

He tried holding your hand. You pulled it away when you felt his, but he insisted. “And these bloodied hands ya speak of, tell me more, please? The stains might be impossible for you to wash away, but I’ll gladly hold ‘em still.” 

He isn't the type to deliberately fool others, even if he humors himself with being a menace to others. You looked at him and was met with surprise as you were met with the soft pair of red eyes and gentle smile you’ve deniably always found comfort in. Were you deserving of this, even after unintentionally turning him away?

You let out a shaky breath, bracing yourself to recall a scenario that has haunted your mind for years. 

“A Kaiju attack. Was a yonju. It was small, but I can tell it's dangerous. Grabbed anything sharp, anything heavy I can get my hands on. I closed my eyes and kept swaying my makeshift weapon around, in hopes of defending myself. I know my sister was hiding somewhere, but it all happened too fast. I heard a piercing scream right in front of me. The yonju had found her somewhere and used her as its shield. I didn't know that even a yonju could think of that. I… accidentally stabbed my sister. She died. I should’ve kept my eyes open. I was weak and was only 14 then. Today's neutralization location is the exact same spot where it happened.”

Tears filled your eyes again. “The day… when I accidentally hit a hiding civilian. I felt my mind shut down. The same scenario replayed over and over again. Had it not been for you, both I and the civilian would've been long gone now. I was only able to take a breath when they got stabilized by the medical team.”

“I’m sorry. I understand if you don't want to involve yourself with me anymore. But thank you for… being my friend.” 

Instead of letting you go, you felt his arm wrap even tighter. “I told ya, didn't I? I’ll walk with ya through everythin'. What happened then doesn't make you any less of a person in my eyes. You’ve saved more lives than any of us can count. I’m sure yer sister will be immensely proud of ya.” 

"And! I haven't kept my end of the deal for our bet. Ya didn't attend the banquet for it." 

How persistent. But he's always been like this. It comforts you, how he's still being Soshiro even after your heavy outburst.

You cleared your throat. “You said you like me.”

“Mhm? And what about it?” 

“...I’m sorry for unintentionally pushing you away, or if I was rude sometimes. I didn't know how to handle it.” 

He let out a laugh of relief. “Dear, that was nothin’ at all! Ya don't have to reciprocate, I only wanted to do what I can for ya. That won't change anytime soon.”

Back to his playful self, he let you go and squished your tear-stained cheeks. “I’ll go with ya anywhere, even if it's straight to hell.” 

What a fast turnaround of mood. You don't mind it, though. There's no use drowning in your anguish. You wanted to get better.

You frowned. “Don't want you to go to hell, ‘Shiro.” 

“Was kiddin’. Get some rest?” 

You tiredly nodded at him, eyes heavy. “Vice Captain. I’m officially giving you a chance. At the same time, I’ll start getting better.”

He shot you an incredulous look. “My title? Really now? Fine then, Platoon Leader, as a reward for taking your first step, let me bestow this upon ya. Close your eyes.”

What is he up to now? You’ll punch him with no hesitation if he kisses you on your lips.

You felt something cold wrap around your wrist, his own hand gripping the back of yours.

“Open up.” He held up your hand to your face level. It's a floral bracelet. He always loves associating you with flowers. You don't understand why, but someday you know you will.

“Perfect match, ain’t it? Now, for the cherry on top…”

His next move took you by surprise. With no hesitation, he kissed your palm. “There. I hope that wasn't too much?”

Receiving no reply, his eyes snapped to your face, worried if he overstepped his newly established boundary.

The sight that greeted him was something to behold. You were looking at anything but him, unable to control the redness of your face. Ah, so that was quite the shot to your heart then?

“Hello? Earth to you?”

“I’m fine! It's okay! Just… not used to it. Do give me a warning next time for my sake, please. And we're not yet in a relationship, mind you.” you said, shyness still evident.

He heartily laughed, still not letting go of your hand. “I’ll walk ya back to your room now. The princess needs her long needed quality sleep.”

And sure enough, it was indeed the most peaceful night you’ve ever had.