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#the mask have fallen off
improbablecarny · 6 months
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"actually our global military operated surveillance dystopia is awesome because it's being used to harm marginalized people that i don't like" - people who identify as marxists online
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muzzleroars · 1 year
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Oh I am soooo feral in love with the way Gabriel’s true face looks after his fall! It has this incredibly “gaze unto the abyss which in turns gazes unto you” vibe I love it. And something about the endless cavity just aaaahhhh. Where once was a flame burning with holy passion and devotion is now an endless and consuming maw of rock and sorrow. Does he let V1 pet the bone feathers I must know.
(reference to this!)
aaaaaa thank you!!!! i really wanted his design to reflect "the fire is gone" motif, to be left burned and melted from flames that once composed his very being. his defining feature as one of the four archangels, the eagle that blazed brilliantly to adorn his head, has been ripped out from the very core of his being to leave behind a cavernous abyss that was once the fount of his heavenly fire. just as he had burned endlessly with the fire of god's love, so now he is endlessly empty and his anatomical crown is split so all may see the vessel bereft of its sacred contents. and his face is petrified into that state, it may never heal or change to stand in contrast to the ever-changing, living flames that had consumed him before. only his eyes move encased in sockets that desperately want to freeze them in the same way, but he refuses to cry the tears that should forever lock them in place.
v1 definitely pets the feathers :] gabriel rarely removed his helmet before he fell, and only did so once allowing v1 to actually see him, so it thrills in having so much unbarred access now as gabriel learns to accept himself. it wants to touch him, hold him, experience a closeness it hasn't been able to have to this point....it's a bit overwhelming for gabe at first, feeling unworthy of so much affection and thinking v1 must be doing so as consolation. but it becomes increasingly apparent it's enamored with his face, finding it far more compelling, more beautiful in its aesthetic sense with it being scarred. like all the new features he's acquired, it shows what he chose, it's an unmistakable emblem of his autonomy. this is its gabriel, the one that it loves and knows...and besides all that, it just plain thinks he looks good yk
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undertheopensky · 4 months
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WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE FUCKING WATER TEMPLE
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maybesdaughter · 1 year
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"For Milton"
2nd day MOTR gift:
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"-- for Milton, despite it all."
Milton? Milton, surely. Not, y'know... Milton.
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I love cosplay props so much
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baeshijima · 2 years
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its nearly one am and i have an idea for a fic
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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years
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God I’m craving McDonald’s so bad but I know no one will want to go with me and I can’t drive and all the restaurants are too far away from public transport and I’m out of range of all the delivery options
#like the justeat guy Will not and Should not drive 30 minutes from [redacted] to deliver mcdonald’s to me#and even if he did it would be stone cold by the time it got here#i’m sick anyway. i shouldn’t really go anywhere#like technically i don’t think the walk from [redacted] station to the restaurant in town is too insane but i had a bad experience there#as a teen and the whole place is tainted in my memory#basically my friend insisted on ordering two large cokes (for herself. all i wanted was a water bottle and fries) but she refused to go up#and get it. so i had to go get the tray and the cokes ~fell off the tray~ and got EVERYWHERE all over the floor#and there were these two girls behind me who were being SO rude and screaming and laughing and making fun of me about it#the mcdonald’s lady remade the cokes and i somehow didn’t drop the second two#but i sat down and said to my friend ‘we need to leave now’ and she Wouldn’t. she insisted on sitting there and drinking two large cokes#AT THE SCENE OF THE CRIME. the other girls were still there and still laughing at me and i just wanted to die#i was like.. 12-13? nowadays i would’ve got the second two cokes & just flipped the lids off and thrown them all over those girls#but as a teen i had no spine so i was MORTIFIED. i wanted to die#it’s still probably top 10 most embarrassing things that have happened to me but it has been overtaken by a couple of other things#like all the times i have fallen down in public#but yeah. suffice to say i’m not going to mcdonald’s today :(#maybe i can look up a copycat recipe and wear like three masks to the shop and buy whatever i need#because i know damn well i don’t have chicken nuggets or fries lol#personal
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oceantornadoo · 3 months
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home invasion
neighbor!simon, gender-neutral reader, fluff, implied violence
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there was someone in your room.
you had fallen asleep on your living room couch, soothed by the sounds of the trashy reality tv show you had on. some creeping sensation overcame you, cold hands tickling your spine, waking up you body with a bucket of ice water. you lay absolutely still as you heard sounds of someone rummaging through your things. thankfully your apartment walls were thin, so you heard them closing drawers loudly, as if they didn't think you were home. you started running situations through your head, ones where you called the police and they came too late, your trespasser having heard the phone call. there was only one decision to make.
silently, like you were five again and playing hide and seek, you moved towards your door. thankfully your door didn't squeak, blood rushing the only sound running through your head. you left the door slightly ajar as you sprinted down the hall to his door.
"simon!" you whisper yelled, knocking furiously but trying not to alert the intruder at the same time. tears were gathering in your eyes, ones of frustration of having your safe space broken into. finally, after what felt like an hour, the lock clicked and he opened the door.
simon was grumpy. he had just started to fall asleep, that elusive feeling he seemed to chase these days, never quite catching it. he was about to tell you as such until he saw your eyes glistening, hands gripping your blanket fiercely. "theresanintruderinmyroomhesinmy" you sputtered, absolutely distraught. "slow down, lovie. wha' happened?" fuck, he wasn't supposed to call you that. he was supposed to keep his distance and not be one of those creeps you complained about. and now he had fucked it up and- "there's someone in my apartment. in my bedroom. going through my things. i knew the cops wouldn't come fast enough so i just thought-" he interrupted you, opening his door just wide enough to shove you through it. fast as a whip, he turned around, kissing your forehead through his mask and murmuring "lock it behind me." suddenly, he was gone, your vengeful grim reaper stalking down the hall to his next victim.
ten minutes later, the clock in the kitchen ticking slower than humanly possible, you spotted him closing the door of your apartment, shoulders bunched around his ears. you were pressed against the peephole, opening the door for him as he neared. "simon? what happened?" his eyes were black pits in his head, pupils blown wide by some intangible force. bloodlust. he reached behind you, triple checking the lock, before turning on the light. you gasped.
his knuckles were bloody, gray shirt disheveled, like someone tried to claw it. his mask was askew, shoved slightly up as if someone tried to pull it off but were stopped before they got the chance. he pulled your forehead to his, souls touching in some intimate embrace. this was your neighbor, the one who always held the door for you and accepted your extra baked goods with quiet disagreement. the one who covered sharp edges of corners before you bumped into them, watching your door to make sure you got in okay after late nights out with friends. he breathed in your scent quietly, telling himself this was not a mission, this was you. he ran his thumbs under your jawline and down your neck, feeling your pulse to remind him you were alive. you, this bundle of life he came back to, week after week, deployment after deployment, the one reason he stayed in this shitty building when he could easily afford something better. "yer stayin' with me tonight." you nodded easily, soft as butter in his arms.
you blinked and you were in his bed, strong arms wrapped around you. he gripped you hard, like he thought the intruder might try to steal you straight out of his arms. in the darkness of his room, you slipped off his mask, laying it on his bed table. you kissed his forehead, a mirror of the one he gave you earlier, and snuggled into the crook of his neck. "thank you." you whispered into the silence of the night. you felt him nod against you, arms constricting tighter, legs tangled in the safety of his bed.
simon didn't sleep much. too many memories, sounds of gunfire and the glint of the meat hook ever present. he was required to see a shrink on base, but even that didn't help. turns out this whole time, all he needed was you.
--
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markster666 · 4 months
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Alas I have fallen for the radio demon! He is perfection and so is your writing! I’m sure you’ve got a lot of requests but I was hoping you could do an Alastor X fem! reader where she likes pulling/gripping his hair while he *ahem* breeds her? Her kink is bearing his demon spawns! = u =
Mmmm gotta love the Radio Demon! Saw this request at work and was like "I'm immediately writing this when I get home" sooo here we are! Thank you so much for your request and hope this is what you were looking for. Lots of love.
ALASTOR THE RADIO DEMON X READER (SMUT/18+) - Breeding B*tch
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Shameless Smut, 18+, Breeding, Hair pulling, Porn without much Plot, Pet kink, Pet play, Impregnation kink, etc.
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 878
A/N: Thank you so much to @lingeringherealways for taking time out of your day to put in this request and trust me with it! I absolutely adored this prompt the second I read it and had to write it out before I head to bed. Unedited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. Requests are open.
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The entire Hazbin crew (except for you and Alastor) decided to go on an outing. Charlie wanted to try and recruit sinners on the streets and offer them refuge in return for possible redemption. She invited you and Alastor to come along, albeit last minute, you both declined respectfully as somebody had to keep watch over the hotel while they were away. Alastor could easily do it by himself, sure, but you were burdened with the thought of sleep. As soon as they left, you slumped onto the lobby couch and shut your eyes.
Alastor waltzed into the room, his microphone staff hitting the ground with a thud every step he took. You opened one of your eyes to get a look at him, only to see he made his way to the edge of the couch, staring right at you with the same, expressionless wide-grinned look he masked all the time.
"Everything alright, Alastor?"
"Mmm, may I speak to you my Dear?"
You groaned and sat up lazily, rubbing your eyes.
"It's kind of a bad time, I'm half asleep."
His ears furrowed back and he sat at the edge of the couch, making sure to keep a good few feet of distance between you two. You could feel his demeanor shift promptly as he started speaking,
"Ah, yes, well, I'll make it quick. You see, I've been having this insatiable urge to... um... how do I speak of this-"
You raised your eyebrow as you waited for him to continue.
He sighed.
"I need to breed."
Your eyes widen in shock. Of course, you knew he was an animal and it would make sense as to WHY he had these desires but...
"And... why are you telling me this?"
He laughed.
"Hah hah hah! Because I want to breed YOU my Dear."
You stare at him open mouthed, unable to process what he just said. You have had fantasies about him for awhile, sure, but never in a million years did you ever expect it to finally be happening.
"O-Okay Alastor, but only this ONE time-"
He cut you off as soon as you gave him full permission to do what he wanted. He set his microphone down and pounced on you, his tall figure covering your entire body.
"Mmm, thank you my Dear, but I don't think one time is going to be enough for that pretty little body of yours."
You were about to say something before he crashed his lips down onto yours, forcing your mouth open with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he tore open your clothes in a couple fluid motions. He stopped kissing you as he ran a finger in between your folds.
"My my! Look how wet you are! Oh how I've been CRAVING to ravish you. I hope you don't expect me to take my time."
He quickly undid his pants zipper before instantly slipping his length inside of you, his ears pinned to the sides of his head trying to hold back grunts of ectasy. You were whining, going non-verbal from how full you felt. Every time he thrusted, it felt like you hit a new stage of bliss, and suddenly you didn't care about redemption into Heaven.
You were already in it.
He gripped your hair and held you close to his body, his face burrowed in your neck and shoulder crease as he aggressively, yet sloppily thrusted into you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist so he could thrust as deep as he could.
He finally let his pleasure take control and started grunting animalistically. He was nipping at your collarbone and squeezing you into him as hard as he could, sweat being combined between your two intertwined bodies as the heat filled the space.
"You feel so gooood, you truly are a BITCH in heat. Let me hear more of those pretty little sounds of yours, Love."
He whispered into your ear before kissing your jawline quickly, smiling against your neck. Your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure and you could not contain your mews.
Your hands moved up to his hair, gripping it very aggressively out of pure passion and need.
"P-Please, Alastor, breed me. Impregnate me. I want you to mark my womb with your seed. Please-"
You senselessly babbled into thin air, gripping his hair harder and tightening your legs around his waist.
"Your begging is music to my ears! As you wish, Dear, stay still for me."
His thrusts quickened in pace before becoming sporadic. He finally unleashed all of his seed into you, making sure his cock was as deep inside of you as it could go. You were a panting mess, slowly loosening your grip on his hair, and he was making a bunch of radio static, also trying to catch his breath.
After a bit, he pulled out slowly and watched as his cum dripped out of you. His smile widened,
"Make sure you lay like that for awhile, Love, to make sure it all stays in."
You didn't ever want to move again. Everything was just bliss in that moment.
"Oh, and by the way my Dear, this will not be a one time thing. Expect it frequently!"
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.
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babygirl-riley · 7 months
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Welcome Home
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You surprise Simon at the base instead of being at home. You also think about how far he has come to acceptance.
Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, fluff, dad!simon, angst, pregnancy
“I’ve fallen for it, I’ve fallen for it somehow.”
A/N: THE PART TWO DAD!SIMON FROM @ave661 IS KILLLINGGGG ME! Seriously chokehold she has me in ALL the time with her art. 😭
simon x reader guide
simon x reader family edition
You called Price beforehand, asked him if it was alright to surprise Simon. You wanted to show up at the base with your baby girl waiting for him. Like you always do. Thankfully and full heartedly he agreed, he even added that he is excited to see his niece. On the way to the base you felt excitement as you played music for both you and your baby.
Your baby gabbles as she plays with hanging baby toys on her car seat. Simon has been gone for a month, it has been so long and you were so excited. He missed having her first tooth, which he will be so excited to see.
Once you got you and your child out of the car you headed to the inside of the base. “141 will be landing in 5 minutes ma’am.” A man said guiding you to the tarmac. “Captain Price said to meet them there.”
You followed the solider to the direction of the tarmac. You knew very well where it was at, a year ago you were on the team for 141 but decided to retire once you found out you were pregnant. Memories littered the hallways as you held your baby close.
“No.” He mumbled as you both stood in your room. He didn’t move for a moment, you thought he was going to leave and not come back for hours. Simon doesn’t do well with emotions but the last couple of months, he has been able to open up more. Now this. You didn’t know how he was going to react let alone what he was going to do.
It was clear, two lines, one word, 6 tests. You and Simon have been in secret for 2 years, established a relationship in a year. You played with your hands as nerves started to kick in. “I thought you were on birth control.” Simon said looking up at you, his eyes only to be shown. The skull mask looking at you.
“I am.” You said your heart slowly hurting, you knew that he never wanted a kid. You knew of his past so this was a joke for the both of you. It was frowned upon when a lieutenant would be sleeping with their sergeant. Hell damn near court marshaled.
Simon looked back down at the tests. He can’t. He won’t. His mind racing a million miles an hour. How could he explain this one to Price? How could you hide a belly on the force? Is there a way for it to be a secret anymore? He cursed himself for loving the fact that he could breed you. It was a new found kink, with him thinking of his cum coating your walls. Simon never broadcast it to you. Telling you that seeing a belly got him feral, thinking about how your body would react to his gift. But…It’s just…is it too soon? Was he ready? Surely he couldn’t be.
“I can get…”
“No,” He cut you off before looking up at you. “This…Not that. ‘M,” his voice trailed. No abortion, he won’t put your body through hell just because both of you didn’t want to wrap it. “I just-I don’t know what to do.”
“I don’t either,” You whispered walking slowly up to him. “But we can figure this out?”
Simon nodded once still looking at the tests. You waited as he stood there and sighed. “We have to tell Price now.”
“Here is the tarmac,” The solider said breaking you from your thoughts. “It looks like they have just landed.”
You mumbled a thank you as soldiers came out one by one from the plane. All covered in dirt or blood, tired written on their faces. You frowned knowing that Simon felt the same, it couldn’t have gone the way it suppose to.
You smiled as you walked out watching Gaz come out first, happy surprise on his face. He looked to the side of him to see Soap, who smiled at you nodded. Price smiled, heading towards the direction you were before stopping. Simon, walked out last, almost stopped in his tracks.
Smile beaming on his face underneath the skull mask. His girls. He be-lined to you and your baby girl. His heart beating quickly, as excitement coursed through his veins.
Price stood as both of his teammates broke the news. He had his suspicions of them fucking around but not together. He itches his beard as your tears start to mellow out. Simon was not looking at him but folding his arms while leaning against the wall.
It was like two of his kids came home after school to get hounded at. It was amusing if Price wasn’t angry. Yes. He was at first, his lieutenant and his best sniper in a bit of a bind. She has to be discharged no way will Price NOR Simon let her go out in the field. Especially since they voiced they are keeping the kid.
“We keep it low,” Price finally spoke watched as both of you looked up. “We have to slowly discharge you, not try to have eyes on the situation until then. No missions for you.”
You nodded, first time every has he seen you so shy. Timid. Usually you had confidence written all over you. “Yes sir.” You mumbled looking away.
Price looked at Simon. “I want to have a discussion with you,” He looked at you as you stared at him. You both are young, younger than him anyway. He seen how Simon’s demeanor changed throughout the years when you came on the force. Of course no one else saw it, but Price did. He always knew. “Dismissed Sargent.”
Your baby squealed with delight as she bounced in your arms. “Da! Da!” She yelled as Simon walked over, having heads turn to see the little baby showed her excitement. Simon did take note that she knew who he was and in fact used ‘dada.’
Simon almost damn near sprinted as he walked up to both of you. You let him take your baby as he grabbed her, she screamed laughed, as he rose her to the air. Holding her sides gently but firm. She is so tiny compared to him, she kicked her feet softly in the air, laughing her little head off. Simon loves that sound, the sound of pure joy coming from her. To the point he didn’t give a damn who was around them. Simon was never a shower when it came to his private life, but when she was around wow, he would make sure everyone knew who she was.
Simon sat across the table from you, your bump more noticeable, 6 months to be exact. He still couldn’t believe that what was growing inside you was his. Part of him. Something that he would have never thought would be done. Or have. You have become more aware and accepting of having the child. Yet he still hasn’t.
“I know it will take time Si,” You said knowing always what he was thinking. Simon snapped his eyes up at you, he felt guilt for sure. You were just honorable discharged and he stayed in the force. “I can’t make you feel happy about this. But…But I know eventually you will.”
He didn’t believe you until one night he laid between your legs as you rubbed the back of his head. Simon chuckled lightly at the tv show you were both watching right when it happened,felt a small poke to his head, he froze, you felt him tense. “What…what that?”
You giggled lowly as you rubbed your belly. “It’s the baby,” He still didn’t move when he felt it again. “She moves a lot when you make any sort of noise.” Simon rose slightly, looking up at you, curiously. You grabbed his hand and placed it where she was. His eyes trained on his hand. “Say something.” You whispered.
Simon looked at you unsure before clearing his throat. “Uh, hello baby girl.” It took a second before he felt the bump move to his hand. A soft graze. He snapped his eyes up at you and tears brimming your eyes, nodding. Encouraging him to continue. Simon’s eyes started to water, everything hitting, even when she isn’t out here she was wanting him. Knowing that he is her dad. And she was his baby.
His hand rubbed your belly. “‘Ight ass kicker. I’m happy to hear ya too.”
“Hello my angels,” He said as slowly held her close to him. Her head cradled inside of his neck. Her hands gripping his uniform. He placed a hand on the back of her hand holding her close. You smiled as he placed his other gloved hand on your cheek. “Why ya ‘ere?”
“I couldn’t wait at home,” You stated as people passed the both of you. “She couldn’t either,” you bumped your shoulder against his. “Told you it was dada.” You teased talking about the last time you both were on the phone. Her screaming ‘da da da,’ knowing damn well it was her daddy on the phone. Simon would tease and say that she got your intelligence since she was only 5 months.
Simon chuckled rolling his eyes, turning his head as she rose from his shoulder. She started towards his skull mask gripping the bottom of it. “Not yet sweethear,’” he whispered gently grabbing her hands. “We are gonna debrief it shouldn’t take too long.”
“Lass,” You laughed as the scottish came up from behind Simon. Slapping his back. “Oh well hello little miss.” He scratched softly underneath her chin. She laughed again shaking her head as she clung onto her dad. “Yer playing hard to get now?” He teased and looked at you.
“Hey Johnny,” You laughed reaching for your baby. She came to you with ease, which you mentally sighed in relief, hoping that she wouldn’t ball her little eyes out when she watched her dad leave. “We will wait on the cafeteria.”
Simon placed his forehead against yours. “It will be quick.” He whispered.
You nodded as you watched them all file into the base. Your baby holding onto you cooing. “Why don’t you ever get that excited to see me,” You playfully glared poking her stomach. She giggled swatting your finger away. “Brat.” You laughed taking her and you to the cafeteria.
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heytheredelulu · 24 days
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Unbreakable
Unbreakable Part 2 can be found here!
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 4.7k
ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+
C/W: Oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, language
Summary: You’ve always wanted to be a mother but your husband is too tormented by his past to believe he could ever be a good father. For so long you’ve accepted that it will never be in the cards for you- after all, it’s only a small price to pay to continue to live the life you’ve built with the man you love. But what happens when you finally admit that you want what he refuses to give you? Will you push him away with your confession or will you finally make him realize that he’s not the man he believes himself to be?
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A/N: Look, I’ve been hormonal as hell for the last two weeks and it’s got me craving some angsty, soft, needy Bucky-
And some passionate, sensual baby makin’ sex.
So without further ado, please enjoy the longest fic I’ve ever written.
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“Doll?” Bucky asked softly, kneeling down in front of you and lowering his head to your level in an attempt to draw your attention up from the book sprawled open in your lap.
You’d been much more reserved as of late and it was beginning to worry him. Your smile seemed a little weaker, a little more forced, and your overall demeanor had reversed; as if the bright light that you always exuded had been extinguished and you were now floating along on the furls of smoke that were left behind- here physically, but mentally you were always elsewhere.
“Hmm?”
You turn the page gently without looking up and Bucky sighs, reaching to carefully slide the book off your lap, snapping it shut and placing it on the coffee table.
“Look at me, angel.”
You let out a slow breath, lifting your head to meet your husband’s troubled gaze, his brows furrowed in concern.
“You wanna tell me what’s wrong, or are you gonna keep hiding out with your nose in a book all day?” He asks quietly, hoping that this time you’d open up, pull back the curtains you’d drawn so tightly and let him into those veiled thoughts of yours.
You shrug, trying to avert your eyes but his hand gently grasps your chin, tilting your face back towards him.
“Angel, please.”
You shake your head, afraid to share with him what’s been troubling you for weeks, afraid to dredge up long washed away agreements.
“It’s stupid.”
He raises an eyebrow, pinning you under his cerulean stare.
“Nah, it’s not stupid if it’s got you this worked up. C’mon.”
He affectionately tucks a piece of hair that had fallen loose when you’d shook your head back behind your ear before offering you a small smile that breaks your resolve and you feel the tears beginning to form on your lower lash line, the translucent beads of heartache obscuring your vision.
“I want a baby.” You whisper, immediately wishing you’d never uttered those four words once you see the corners of his lips begin to pull downwards.
When he slowly stands and takes a hesitant step backwards, that mask of stoicism you’ve worked for so long to peel away slipping back into place, your heart seizes in your chest.
“Bucky..” You plead, a tear slipping down your cheek as you rise from your seat and reach out for him, afraid you’ve pushed him too far with your admittance. “James.. Baby.”
He shakes his head, holding his palm out towards you in a feeble attempt to maintain his distance while he mulls over your confession but you press forward, placing your hand gently on his forearm.
“I need some air.” He mumbles, shrugging off your hand and moving quickly towards the door.
Before you can muster the voice to call out for him again, the door is closing behind him with a soft click and he’s gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Why couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut?
You scold yourself, your mind reeling with the possibility that you may have said too much despite only saying so little when you hear his motorcycle roar to life out in the garage.
He was running again.
You’d known the idea of children was a difficult subject for Bucky. It had only come up in discussion a handful of times before and when it had, he was always quick to dismiss it, stating he’d be a terrible father before descending into a rabbit hole of self-deprecating comments you’d have to reach down and pull him out of with a steady hand of reassurance.
As time went on you’d pretty much conceded to the idea that you’d never have the chance to be a mother if you wanted to continue to live the life you’d built with the man that you loved and you’d grown to accept that fact. At the time it felt like a small price to pay for the joy and love that Bucky brought you but as the years went on and your friends and coworkers grew their families, welcoming new, bright eyed babies, you began to feel a sense of longing for what you had always thought you’d never want.
His behavior was so much different this time, the way he’d clammed up, shut you out and needed to completely remove himself from your presence. His reaction had never been so extreme before and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was how desperate you’d seemed- the tears in your eyes, the pleading in your tone.
Those thoughts and unanswered questions weighed heavily in your mind while you escaped the afternoon inside the pages of your book until the sun began to set through the bay window and you finally dragged yourself up to bed, your restless mind carrying you into a dreamless sleep.
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It was nearly 2 in the morning when Bucky crept barefoot into your bedroom, the hall light bathing your sleeping figure in a corridor of fluorescent light as he quietly opened the door. His breath caught in his chest as he lingered in the doorway, this vision of you reminding him just why he always affectionately referred to you as his angel.
He shut the door softly behind him, shedding his t-shirt and jeans before gently pulling back the sheets, his heart and his cock simultaneously swelling when his gaze settled on the image of you in your silk night gown as it rode innocently up your supple thighs.
He crawled silently up the foot of the large bed, lowering himself onto his stomach and settling between your legs, his hands gently kneading the tender flesh of your thighs as a low and shuddered breath blew from his lips.
He carefully pushed the hem of the silk garment higher, exposing your cotton briefs and the soft flesh of your belly, moving to rest his head against the bare skin. His hand hesitantly caressed your abdomen.
All afternoon his head had been plagued with the fear of losing you, the feeling of inadequacy resulting from the pain in your tone when you confessed the desire for something he felt he could never provide.
But once alone with his thoughts as he tore down the interstate on his motorcycle, physically trying to outrun the deep rooted trauma of his past, the pieces began to fall into place for him.
You’d loved him unconditionally through his trauma, offered him unwavering support and shined light to the darkest depths of his soul, always seeing something inside him that he could never see in himself.
But you were fading. Becoming physically and emotionally withdrawn under the weight of sacrificing such a fundamental need that you craved- all for him.
Maybe he’d never overcome his past. Maybe there would always be a darkness beyond the surface that kept its claws dug deep into the innermost reaches of his subconscious.
Or maybe he had already overcome it and had just been so blinded by his own self loathing that he hadn’t realized. Surely if he was as cold and broken as he believed himself to be, he never would have been capable of loving you in the all encompassing way that he did.
You, the one person in his life that could melt the ice encapsulating his heart with only a flash of your warm smile.
He’d never wanted children. He always believed he’d be a terrible father but the desperation in your eyes when you confessed that you wanted a baby with him brought him to consider that maybe it had always been his own insecurities rearing their ugly head as they always did when he tried to imagine himself as anything more than the man he used to be.
His hand stroked idly across your bare abdomen in slow, languid movements as he tried to picture the soft flesh stretched and swollen with his child.
His child.
A life created from the love and the passion that the two of you shared, to raise in the home you’d built together, to nurture with the kindness that you exhumed and to mold into a better person than he could’ve ever hoped to have been with the guidance only someone as patient as you could provide.
He’d never wanted to be a father, never thought he was capable of being a father.
But you, you made him feel as if he were capable of anything and as he had pulled his motorcycle over onto the side of the highway and wept that evening, he knew now without question that he wanted- no, needed you to bring his child into this world.
“Baby?”
Your sleepy voice penetrated his thoughts as you spoke into the dark room and reached your hands down to tenderly run your fingers through his brunette locks.
“You came home.” You mumbled, trying to rouse from your slumber enough to properly talk to him.
Bucky raised his head off of your belly, sliding his hand up your torso, through the valley of your breasts to settle at your nape. He gently cupped your jaw and tilted your head to look at him as he hovered above you.
“Of course I came home.” He says, the hurt evident in his tone. “Why wouldn’t I?”
You catch your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent it from quivering as your emotions begin to rise to the surface again.
“I don’t know. I just-“ You hesitate, worried that you’re toeing a fine line of sending him running again if you don’t choose your words carefully.
“Angel..”
He settles his thumb over your mouth, effectively silencing you as he gently strokes the pad of his calloused thumb across your bottom lip.
“I always come home.” He whispered, leaning down and tracing the tip of his nose across your jawline. “I will always come home to you.”
“I thought I’d scared you off.” You admit softlyly, reaching your hand down to caress his cheek, the light stubble rough against your skin.
He leans into your touch, his eyes slipping closed as he draws in a shaky breath.
“You could never scare me off.”
His jaw clenches and he opens his eyes, looking at you with a haunted gaze.
“If anything I’m scared of myself, doll.”
You move to sit up, wanting nothing more than to take him in your arms, chase the demons from behind his eyes with the comfort of your loving embrace but he’s quick to place a large hand between your breasts, firmly pressing you back down onto the mattress.
“No.”
He repositions himself above you, dipping his head and bracing his weight on his muscular forearms as he trails a line of open mouthed kisses down your bare abdomen.
His breath fans against the soft cotton of your panties as he hooks his fingers under the waistband and removes them at a torturously slow pace.
“I don’t wanna talk about me and my bullshit.” He says in a low voice, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh and sending a shiver up your spine.
“Actually, I don’t wanna talk at all.” He adds, lifting your legs to rest over his shoulders.
“Bucky.” You warn softly, reaching your hand down to push his hair off his forehead. “We really should talk about this. We can’t avoi-”
He steals the words from you when he gently spreads your folds with his fingers, his breathy chuckle warm against your sex.
“I’ve got a much better way to make use of my mouth.” He murmurs, bowing his head and glancing up at you with lustful eyes. The image of him between your thighs, looking at you with such intensity was enough to silence you entirely.
“Let me show my angel what heaven feels like.”
A desperate moan rises from your throat as Bucky laps at your weeping cunt in long, slow strokes with his flattened tongue. He laves upward, tracing gentle circles around your clit, catching the swollen bud between his lips and suckling, your back arching off the mattress in response.
“Fuck.” You whimper, carding your hands in his hair to hold him in place.
He hums, flitting the tip of his tongue downwards and dipping into your fluttering hole, drawing a gasp from your throat as he fucks you with it, euphoria building at the base of your spine.
“For an angel-“ He mumbles and raises his head up, his unshaven chin slick with your arousal, pinning you under his gaze as he sinks two fingers inside you and begins pumping them slowly.
“You sure do taste like sin.” He muses.
He latches back onto your clit, flicking his tongue in quick movements while simultaneously curling his fingers inside you, stroking you closer towards climax with every ministration.
“Baby, I- fuck!”
Fire erupts through your core and you clench around his fingers, tightening your grip on his hair and jerking your hips upward to grind your cunt against his face as you cry out in ecstasy.
He chuckles against your tender flesh as he withdraws his digits, the warmth of his breath causing you to writhe against the sheets as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“You’re so goddamned beautiful when you come.” He whispers, wiping his mouth on his forearm and shifting his weight against the bed as he rises momentarily up to discard his boxers.
He positions himself above you, bracing himself on his palms, his biceps flexing as he dips down to press a kiss to your pulse point.
Dazed and breathless, you reach down to guide him to your entrance, pausing when your hand curls around the warmth of his bare cock.
“Shit, condom.” You mumble, working to maneuver yourself out from under him in order to reach towards the bedside table.
He stops you with a loose grasp around your throat, gently pushing you back into the pillows.
“Don’t need one.” He breathes out, settling himself between your slick thighs.
Your brows furrow in confusion and your mouth falls open in question but he carefully slides his hand up your neck to grip your jaw, pulling you into a deep and sensual kiss.
You slide your hands across the expanse of his toned back, returning the kiss with equal intensity before he breaks it, resting his forehead against yours.
He silently guides your hand to his hard and aching cock, closing your fist around it as he releases a shuddered breath against cheek.
“You’re gonna take my cock.” He grunts, peppering kisses across your jawline. “You’re gonna take my cum.”
He bucks his hips against your grip, urging you to bring him against your weeping hole.
“And you’re going to have my baby.”
Your eyes widen at his words, the quiver in his voice telling you this isn’t just some form of dirty talk but that he’s sincere and desperate.
“Bucky, are you sure?” You ask in a broken whisper, clarifying for good measure.
“You are going to have my baby.” He repeats, his voice carrying demand.
You let out a whimper, lining him up with your entrance and withdrawing your hand once he presses the leaking tip of his cockhead into your cunt, quickly burying himself inside you with a purposeful thrust of his hips.
You gasp at the stretch and he stills, his pelvis flush against you, sucking in a sharp breath at the way your inner walls are gripping him, free of the confines of a condom for the very first time.
“Goddamnit, angel. I don’t think I’m going to last very long.” He chokes out, the feeling of your tight, wet cunt engulfing his cock leaving him nearly breathless.
God, what he would do to stay inside you like this forever.
He draws his hips back, retreating almost completely before thrusting back into you. His lips part and his brows knit, breathy moans rising from his throat as he picks up a rhythm, his very soul craving to feel you around every inch of his length.
His hunger for you is apparent with every deep and merciless thrust and that sense of needful longing sets your every nerve ablaze.
He crashes his mouth against yours, kissing you frantically as reaches for your hands, lacing your fingers together in a fervent grip.
Pleasure pools low in your abdomen and you bring your trembling legs up to wrap around his waist, rolling your hips up in sync with his strokes as you chase your climax.
He groans in response and increases his pace, his heavy sack slapping against your ass with every frenzied rut into you.
“Oh fuck, please, baby. Please come on my cock. God, I need to feel you. Fuck, fuck!” He pleads with a shuddering breath that betrays how desperately he’s fighting to maintain his tempo as he climbs closer towards the edge with every passing second.
The sight of this beautiful man barely able to refrain from falling apart for you, begging for you to come on his cock, is enough to break you. White hot pleasure spreads through your core, flooding your body in a wave of euphoria as you cry out for him in choked sobs.
“Bucky! James, baby!”
He pounds into you at a brutal pace, incapable of holding himself back any longer, drawing strangled noises from you as he fucks you through the waves of the orgasm gripping your body.
“I love you, I love you, I-“ You whimper over and over in a cock-drunk stupor, rocking your pelvis sloppily against his movements.
He grunts, his hips stuttering as he stammers out your name in a breathless plea before giving one final deep thrust and he stills, emptying himself inside you with a throaty moan.
Bucky slumps forward burying his face into your neck, words of praise falling from his lips in a whisper against your skin as you remain in each other's embrace, hearts racing and chests heaving in the afterglow.
The steady thumping of his heartbeat begins to lul you towards a state of peaceful sleep and as your eyes slip closed, you feel the bitter emptiness of him withdrawing from inside you only to jerk back to full consciousness at the sensation of his fingertips against the tender flesh of your swollen cunt.
As you start to rise up on your elbows in order to better observe what it is he’s doing, he softly shushes you, smirking as he trails his fingers along your slit, gathering up any of his seed that had managed to escape your aching hole and gently pump it back in with his fingers.
“Not letting you waste a drop.” He murmurs, collapsing onto the bed beside you and reaching an arm around your waist to pull your back against his broad chest.
He envelops you in his warmth, his strong arms wrapped lovingly around you as he rests his nose against the crown of your head, slowly and deeply inhaling your scent.
“What made you change your mind?” You ask softly, snuggling your cheek against the bicep of his flesh arm.
His vibranium arm drapes across your abdomen and he splays his palm above your pelvic bone, gently brushing the cool metal of his thumb back and forth in affectionate strokes along your bare skin.
“You.” He replies, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Me?” You ask incredulously. “How the hell did I manage to change your mind about something you were so adamant about? We didn’t even talk about it, Buck. I just told you what I wanted.”
He sighs, settling his chin atop your head. “You’re right, we didn’t.” He admits in a low voice. “But you know I’m a man of few words, angel.”
“But that doesn’t mean we just avoid the subject completely and then jump headfirst into this. Not that I’m complaining, it’s just that I need to understand how you managed to get here. That was- this was unexpected.” You respond, placing a gentle hand over his forearm and stroking your fingertips lazily across the spray of soft, dark curls adorning it. “You say you’re a man of few words but I know damn well you have a lot to say, you just don’t like saying it. You don’t like grappling with your emotions, Bucky. I think maybe its because you spent so long having them repressed against your will.”
He’s silent for a beat before drawing in a slow breath and in those several moments of quiet you feel a rising sense of dread that maybe you had overstepped with your assessment.
“Do you know why I call you ‘angel’?” He asks quietly, his thumb stilling against your lower belly.
You tilt your head in confusion. “What?” You question, your own fingers slowing their leisurely circles along his arm. “Baby, you’re deflecting.”
“I’m not.” He explains, raising his head, his thumb resuming its languid strokes across your skin. “Just answer my question.”
You huff, resisting the urge to roll your eyes by instead moving them back and forth to follow the movements of his thumb. “It’s a pet name, like baby or doll.”
He shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle, his breath tickling the back of your neck.
“It’s a pet name, yeah. But do you know why I call you that?” He asks.
You shrug. “No, I guess I don’t.” You reply, tilting your head back to look up at him. “Are you gonna tell me?”
His lips curve into a smile as he looks down at you and in the dim light of the bedroom you notice how glassy his eyes appear, as if he’s just a blink away from a tear escaping his blue eyes.
“Because you saved me.” He whispers with a small crack in his voice that makes your heart ache. You want to ask him how- how he could possibly say something as bold as that you saved him, but your breath is caught in your chest at the vulnerability Bucky is showing you in this moment.
“Baby, when you met me I was so broken. I think maybe I still am.” He continues, resting his cheek against your shoulder in a clear attempt to hide his expression from you because he was stubborn and you were right. Emotion was not something Bucky expressed freely because he spent nearly his entire life with them suppressed so if he had any hope of baring his soul to you now, he couldn’t possibly let you see his face as he did it.
“No one dared to get close to me because they were too afraid of getting cut on the shattered pieces of who I was. But not you. Never you.” He explains, pausing as he draws in a slow and shaky breath while he considers how to express how much you mean to him when he wasn’t entirely sure there were even words capable of doing so.
In his brief pause you shift your weight, rolling over to face him properly before he continues.
“You didn’t care if you got cut because you saw something in me worth believing in and you weren’t afraid to bleed to get to it. You rebuilt me. You saved me.” His voice is hoarse as he struggles to hold his composure and keep from breaking down completely. “Your faith in me gave me hope- it gives me hope that maybe I’m capable of more than I think I am.”
A single tear finally breaks free, slipping free of his lashes and sliding slowly down his cheek in the wake of his heart lay bare to you.
“You give me too much credit.” You whisper, reaching up to brush away his tear with a trembling thumb. Your touch lingers on his skin and he places his hand overtop yours, pressing your palm to his cheek as he pins you under his tender gaze.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” He counters.
“Neither do you.”
He opens his mouth to argue but closes it and sighs when he realizes you’re right. You’re always right.
“I love you. I love all of you- every single piece, including ones you say are broken.” You whisper, offering him a soft smile as you gently push the hair back from his sweat-slicked forehead.
“They are broken.” He breathes out.
“I don’t think that’s true. If it were, could you really love me the way that you do? Think about it, Bucky. After everything you’ve suffered? You’re not broken, you’re unbreakable.”
He hesitates, running his hand down his face to mask the way it crumples at your words and wipe away the tears now falling steadily down his cheeks.
“I don’t deserve you.” He whispers.
You sit upright, leaning forward and cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes.
“You deserve everything, Bucky. Life owes you love. It owes you kindness for fucks sake.”
“Not after what I’ve done.” He mutters, the ghosts of his past flickering behind his eyes as he begins to retreat down that godforsaken rabbit hole inside his head again but you won’t allow it. Not this time.
“Especially after what you’ve done. Because you weren’t given a choice.”
He shakes his head, his eyes squeezing shut as if he can’t bear to let you see him this way.
“And what happens when they find out who- what I used to be?” He asks in a pained tone, nodding towards your belly as if he somehow believes his seed has already taken root in your womb. “They’ll find out. We won’t be able to shelter them from the truth.”
“Baby, look at me.” You demand, your expression stern as you rise up and lean forward on your knees. “Will it matter when they only know you as the you that you truly are? How can I make you see yourself the way that I see you?”
Bucky sighs, his shoulders slouching. “What would I do without you?” He asks quietly, resting his hand against your thigh and kneading the flesh beneath his fingers.
“Never have clean laundry or dishes.” You tease in an attempt to lighten the sullen mood. He stares up at you in disbelief for several long moments before unexpectedly delivering a swift smack to your bare ass, drawing a yelp from you that is immediately followed by a string of lighthearted giggles.
“Damnit, doll- I’m being serious!”
“So am I!” You argue, stifling a laugh. “I found a cereal bowl under the bed!”
He groans, covering his face with his hands. “It was one time.”
You smirk, your eyebrow quirking up in skepticism.
“That’s one time too many.”
“You’re ridiculous.” He grumbles.
“But you love me.”
He hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you into his embrace with a dramatic groan and you rest your head against his chest, draping your arms around his neck.
“I do.” He whispers, tracing his fingertips along your spine. “More than I could ever begin to explain.”
“A broken man couldn’t love me. A broken man wouldn’t know how to love me.” You point out. “And God, baby- you make me feel loved every moment of every single day.”
His breath catches and you can hear his heartbeat begin to quicken in his chest against your ear before he rolls over abruptly, pinning you underneath him as he looks down at you with an expression of adoration and that familiar fire in his gaze.
You tilt your chin up, a grin stretching across your face as you place your palm against his chest and state proudly, “You are James Buchanan Barnes and you are-“
He devours the words from your mouth before you can finish speaking them as he kisses you with urgency, stealing the breath from your lungs with the way his mouth moves desperately against yours.
Your hands explore his toned back, the feeling of his muscles flexing under your touch driving you to greedily draw his body closer to yours until he settles his weight onto you.
He breaks the kiss with a smirk on his lips as your head falls back, sucking in a sharp inhale at the warmth of his cock pressing into the soft flesh of your bare thigh, already hard and weeping for you again.
He lowers his head, nuzzling his forehead against your temple as he completes your stolen sentence in a whisper against the shell of your ear:
“Unbreakable.”
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acey-wacey · 14 days
Text
True Love's Kiss
Feat. Idia, Azul, Vil
Synopsis: You've fallen under a mysterious sleeping spell. Who can wake you up but your true love?
...
🎮 Idia Shroud 🎮
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"ME?!"
Idia's shriek resounded through the infirmary before he was hushed by one of the nurses. He shrunk back in his embarrassment and turned back to the cheeky cat that was standing on the infirmary bed next to your sleeping form.
"Yes, you, shut-in. What have you got brimstone on your ears?" Grim scowled at the blue-haired boy who's hair was becoming quite pink with embarrassment. "Who else would kiss my henchman awake?"
"Literally anyone else, maybe?" Idia argued, hiding his face behind the collar of his jacket. "It's always Prince Charming in the stories. I'm about the farthest thing you could find."
"I think you're plenty charming, Idia!" Ortho chimed in with what would have been a smile if he didn't have his mask on. "Who's to say you won't break the spell?"
"I say," Idia groaned, his voice muffled by his jacket. "Aren't there any other cures? I thought Professor Crewel was working on an antidote."
Before Grim could open his mouth, Ortho interrupted.
"Nope! No other cure!" Ortho beamed with glee uncharacteristic for delivering grave news. "I already scanned and if my databases say there's no other cure than there's no other cure and you have to kiss them!"
Idia whined in mortification and buried himself further in his jacket, now almost entirely engulfed by the fabric, except for the tufts of flaming hair sticking out the top.
Grim tapped his paw impatiently, quite fed up with Idia's reservations. Every second you were asleep was a second that your poor, poor kitty boss went without tuna (he couldn't reach the cabinet where you put the cans).
"I could always go get Leona. He's a prince, so it's close enough, yeah?"
"No!" Idia shot up, his hair flared up in red, startling Grim so bad, Ortho had to catch him before he fell off the bed. Idia took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair until it returned to its regular electric blue.
"Don't even joke about that," Idia muttered through gritted teeth. "Makes my skin crawl to think of that grubby jock getting his slimy lips anywhere near Y/N."
"Fine, if you don't want anyone else to do it, then what's the issue?" Grim put his paws on his hips and shot Idia an impatient look. "You like them, they like you, they probably want to kiss you anyway so just hop to it! I'm starving over here!"
Idia snapped up in shock at Grim's words.
"Y/N... likes me?"
Grim scoffed in ridicule and rolled his eyes.
"Duh! What, have you been living under a rock? Oh, wait, you have, haven't you?"
Ortho immediately began protesting Grim's insult. Idia himself might've been offended if he wasn't preoccupied with his overheating brain.
Why in Wonderland would you like him? I mean that was just a ridiculous claim even though both Grim and Ortho seemed to believe it. Not many people even liked being around him much... but then again, you weren't other people.
You were the one who messaged him to go to sleep at midnight after gaming for too long. You brought him snacks and sat in comfortable silence in his dorm while he played video games. You never expected more from him and without realizing it, he has gotten used to having you next to him. It even happened sometimes that he would turn to say something to you while he was gaming, only to find you weren't there. It baffled him how you made your way into his daily routine almost without notice.
"Do they really?" Idia asked softly, catching the attention of both Grim and Ortho who had been exchanging some heated words of childlike manner. "Like me, I mean."
Ortho giggled at his brother's bashfulness.
"Of course they do! They never shut up about you!" Grim huffed, recalling the countless times he'd heard you practically gushing about the vitamin D deficient geek. "No clue why though. Guess Y/N likes 'em pale and sickly."
"I'm not- whatever," Idia didn't really have the fight in him to argue with Grim's impression of him. He took a deep breath and looked at Ortho. "Do you really think it would work?"
"Only one way to find out!" the little robot responded cheerily.
"What if..." Idia gulped. "What if it doesn't work and I just kiss them for nothing? What if..."
"Shut up and pucker up, dracula! I'm wasting away without my henchman!"
That earned Grim a pair of yellow-eyed glares.
Idia collected himself with a deep breath and leaned towards you.
"Nope, nope, nope, this is a bad idea, I can't do this," he panicked, standing up and waving his hands around in anxiety. Grim rolled his eyes and jumped onto Idia's shoulders, pushing him onto you with all the momentum the little creature could muster.
It was effective. Idia toppled forward onto the infirmary bed, catching himself just in time to not crush you, but not before his lips brushed yours.
Idia jumped back, crashing to the floor quite devoid of grace. He, Ortho, and Grim all held their breath, waiting for something to happen.
"Aw, man, our first kiss, and I wasn't even awake for it!"
Idia brightened at the sound of your voice. He jumped back to his feet to see your drowsy eyes locked on him.
"Hi, Charming," you lazily smiled at the blue-haired boy. "Thanks for rescuing me."
Idia's face went slack with shock and his face turned so red you were afraid he might explode.
"Perfect! Now that you're awake, get me tuna, human!"
...
🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙
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"This is such a bad idea."
Deuce echoed for the nth time since Ace had come up with his little scheme.
"I know but just think," Ace smirked at your sleeping body, which the two were carrying through the Octavinelle dorm, Ace supporting your arms, Deuce carrying your legs, like they were carrying a dead body. "Imagine the look on the prefect's face when they wake up and see Azul They'll probably think they're dreaming."
"Yeah, I think they've had that dream before," Grim scowled from where he rode atop your belly. "Wouldn't be surprised with how down-bad they are for that slimy little junior mafia boss."
"It'll be fine, I'm sure," Ace dismissed, ignoring Deuce's concerned look. "And if anything bad happens, it'll probably be the prefect ending up with a contract, not us."
"That's kind of a terrible thing to say about a cursed person," Deuce pointed out matter-of-factly.
"Pssh, where'd your moral compass come from, huh?"
"From my mom," Deuce spat defensively. Ace was about to respond when they were both startled by a looming figure standing menacingly behind Deuce.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?"
Both first years gulped in fear at the sound of the eel's unison voices.
"Is our poor prefect injured?" Jade frowned though his eyes held a devious sparkle.
"Sort of..." Grim started but jumped back when Floyd grinned at him menacingly.
"We can't have Shrimpy being hurt, now can we?" he flashed his sharp teeth at the sleeping prefect. "We'll take 'em off your hands, fix 'em up real nice."
"Will we get them back?" Ace asked, fearing the answer. Jade responded with a squinty smile.
"That remains to be seen."
"Hey, wait a minute-!" Deuce tried to protest but was cut off when Floyd lifted your limp body with two hands and flung you over his shoulder.
"Careful, Floyd," Jade warned. "We can't have damaged goods."
The unfortunate trio was left to watch as you were hefted into the Mostro Lounge, wondering if they would ever see you again.
Meanwhile, in the Mostro Lounge, Azul was peacefully tallying profits in his office when his door was kicked down.
"What the-" he shrieked. Azul stared in horror as Floyd barged into the room with a body flung over his shoulder. "Did you... Did you actually kill someone this time?"
"Not this time," Floyd responded cheerfully. Azul managed to stand up from his chair right before Jade swept everything off of the polished mahogany desk in front of him.
"What are you doing?!" Azul yelled but was quickly silenced when Floyd set your limp body down on the now-empty desk. "Is that Y/N?"
"Yup!" Floyd said, popping the "p" with a sly smile.
"Are they...?" Azul asked hesitantly.
"Just sleeping, fortunately," Jade responded with a similar grin. "But I'm afraid it's the work of magic. They won't wake until..."
At this point Azul was very concerned. His crush was unconscious on his desk and his business associates were far too smug to have good intentions.
"Until what? Seven's sake, just tell me why you brought them here!"
"Very well," Jade bowed his head in respect that felt more mocking than anything. "The prefect will remain asleep until they are woken up by true love's kiss. It is the belief of myself as well as Y/N own friends that you may be able to fulfill this requirement."
It must have been at least a full minute before Azul spoke again.
Jade waited patiently with a smile as Azul stared in shock and confusion, the gears behind his eyes obviously turning at superhuman speeds.
Azul finally snapped back into his regular businessman persona.
"Well, of course, I am obviously the most qualified candidate to undertake his task," Azul said nonchalantly, though both eels could easily tell it was a front.
"We'll leave you two alone then!" Floyd winked suggestively at Azul, the octopus' calm facade cracking ever so slightly.
Jade and Floyd shut the door to Azul's office and he could hear their laughter through the wood.
Azul took a deep breath and looked at your sleeping form. You looked so peaceful, your forehead free from worried wrinkles and lips devoid of any kind of scowl. Azul was used to being on the receiving end of some of these scowls/ incredulous looks. He couldn't deny he might have deserved some of the scrutiny you gave him, given that he did attempt to trick your friends into contracts so you would have to come visit him to save them. Perhaps if you wanted him to stop, you should stop wearing that adorable pout when you confront him!
You took a breath and Azul stood up so fast it scared him.
"Sevens," Azul muttered, running a hand through his hair. "When did I get this jumpy?"
He looked at you once more, taking in every still detail about you.
"Might as well stare, since you'll never be this calm around me again," he whispered as if he was afraid you would hear him through your enchantment. He sighed contentedly as he stared at your sleeping face.
After only a few seconds, he snapped himself back out of it.
"Stop it, Azul, that's creepy," he scolded himself, taking to pacing around his room. "Though to be fair, kissing someone who is under an enchanted sleep is far more creepy than just looking at them."
He peered at you again. Though it was easy to admire your serene expression, it was uncanny to see your face motionless, without a laugh or groan or yell behind it. Azul took a deep breath and steeled his nerves.
"Even if they hate me forever, it's worth a shot," he quietly hyped himself up. "But isn't it just true love's kiss? There's no way I'm their true love, that would be impossible. They dislike me far too much. But I would never forgive myself if I could have saved them..."
Azul grappled with his inner thoughts for who knows how long, before landing on the conclusion that he should just go for it and kiss you.
"If they do wake up, I'll apologize profusely until they forgive me for kissing them and then possibly draft a marriage contract...?" Azul hit himself in the head to snap himself out of it. "Stop it. Now's not the time to be thinking about that."
Azul took a sharp inhale and turned back to you.
"Oh, screw it!"
He exclaimed and rushed back to his desk, pressing his lips to yours before he could rethink it. It was the slightest kiss, barely even a kiss. Azul wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he had truly taken advantage of you.
He turned away faster than even the brief kiss. He held his breath, trying to notice tiny details about his walls to distract himself from the tension.
"What is... Where am I?"
Azul spun around, eyes wide with genuine shock. Upon seeing you groggily looking around, he straightened and cleared his throat.
When you turned toward the noise, you saw Azul, the absolute picture of perfection he always was. You would never have known he was feeling anything akin to anxiety if it weren't for the nervous tapping of his custom-tailored leather shoes.
"Azul?" You narrowed your eyes, taking in your environment. You were laying on a table, alone in a small room with Azul. "What is this? Don't tell me you finally got the tweels to drug me."
Azul opened his mouth to protest, a bit concerned that you were so used to stuff like that that you just sounded tired instead of worried, but he remembered his gentlemanly guise and rethought his next words.
"Honestly, Y/N, do you really think me so cruel?" Azul smirked, praying to the Seven for an excuse you would buy so he wouldn't have to explain the real situation. "I was not the one who brought you here. You were merely... dumped on my doorstep, shall we say."
"I just remember Ace and Grim screwing around in alchemy and they dropped some dumb potion..." You put together vague pieces of your memory before it clicked. "Ooooh, sleeping potion. I was knocked out, wasn't I? Bit stupid of those idiots to bring me here, but isn't that how they always are."
You jumped off the table as if you hadn't just been passed out. Azul was honestly surprised by your chipperness. You sighed and turned to him.
"So what did you do? What do I owe you?" You looked at Azul expectantly. He blinked a couple times before he felt embarrassing heat rise on his neck.
"I didn't- well I- that is to say-" Azul stared, scrambling for words. Nobody but you could make him this inarticulate. He took a deep breath and collected himself. "You don't owe me. If anything, I should be paying you for recompense."
You furrowed your eyebrows, very skeptical of any supposed kindness coming from NRC's resident schemer.
"What do you mean recompense? What happened?"
"I may have-" Azul coughed, trying to brush off what was so clearly bothering him. "This particular enchantment required-" Another cough. "I believe the particular wording was a true love's kiss. I provided a kiss of such manner. Because of the impropriety of this particular cure, I feel a certain responsibility to compensate you for such lack of consent."
You stared for a long time. Azul imagined that must have been what he looked like when Jade first told him about your condition.
"True love's kiss..." You trailed off, subconsciously bringing your fingers to your lips.
"Yes and I will be happy to provide compensation for emotional or physical damages or- or other."
You looked at Azul incredulously.
"You just told me you're my true love and you think I want money?!"
Azul was quite confused now.
"Do you not want money?"
"Well, I could always use it but at the particular moment, what I really want is for this dumb octopus to come and give me a real kiss."
...
🪞 Vil Schoenheit 🪞
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It had been a few hours since you had been unceremoniously dumped on Pomefiore's doorstep. Apparently, some alchemical accident had happened, leaving you magically asleep with no known cure. Crowley had dropped your limp body at Pomefiore and offered extra credit to anyone who could fix you. It only made sense. After all, the Fairest Queen was quite proficient at potions, and so Vil prided himself on the same.
No one else had dared touch you once he spotted your body and glared at them. He had Rook carry you to the makeshift potions lab next to Vil's room. Rook, ever the drama queen, took every step to ensure your comfort while in your enchanted sleep. He set you up on a table with plush pillows and a lacy blanket. Vil thought the flowers Rook had arranged in your hands were a bit excessive but he was more preoccupied with finding a cure.
Vil told himself he was doing it for the extra credit, but really, anyone who knew him knew he didn't need it. Some part of him didn't like seeing you cursed.
For the past two hours, Vil had been rifling through every potion book he had, trying multiple recipes and feeling a little more disheartened every time it didn't work. One of the elixirs he whipped up burned right through his potted fern. He elected not to test that one on you.
Eventually, Vil came upon a book about curse-breaking.
"Can't believe I didn't see this before," he muttered to himself, flipping open the table of contents.
There was only one page on sleep spells. Vil ran his finger over the passage as he read it.
"The only way a sleep spells can be reversed is thought true love's..." Vil interrupted himself with a scoff. "That's ridiculous, that can't be the only way."
He looked over at your sleeping form, clutching your bouquet of flowers. The color was drained from your face and even the shade of your clothes looked grayer. Vil felt a pang of emotion, like a hand squeezing his heart at the sight of you so lifeless.
You were usually so full of life, bringing joy to those close to you. You stayed just out of the limelight, content to support your friends in their shenanigans but having your own fun outside of the public eye. Oftentimes, you took Vil along with you, giving him a taste of what it's like to be treated like a normal person.
It disturbed him so see you devoid of a smile or eye-roll or any sort of emotion that you wore on your sleeve.
No matter what it took, he would find a cure.
"You've already found a cure," Vil imagined you saying to him. "You're just too scared to use it."
"What do you know?" Vil grumbled quietly. Had he really fallen so far he was talking to himself? He wished you were really talking to him, really showing signs of life, even if it was to scold him. "There must be another cure somewhere. I don't care how long it takes me to find it."
"You know true love's kiss is the most powerful thing in the world," Vil's imaginary you said. "There isn't another way. And besides, would you rather me be awake now instead of in the 6 months it takes you to find something else?"
Vil huffed, more annoyed by the fact that he really didn't want to wait than what you were saying.
"Then why don't you tell me how to find your true love, hm? That'll take me longer than 6 months."
His imaginary you just stared at him, blinking pointedly. He stared back, trying to decipher what his psyche was trying to tell him.
"You don't think..." His face fell when he realized what that look meant. "It's not me, believe me."
"Well, some part of you obviously thinks it could be, because I think it could be you and I'm just in your head," you shrugged.
"I refuse," he immediately declared, turning away from where your real self laid. "If you were real, you would not agree. And by the way, who am I to kiss you while you're asleep?"
Vil looked over at your peaceful face and he swore he could see incredulity in your motionless expression.
"Stop looking at me like that, potato. I refuse to kiss you without proper consent."
Imaginary you stared at Vil again, unsettling him more.
"Come now, I don't need this from both of you," he picked up a potion book, pretending to read it.
"You could save me," imaginary you offered, your voice solemn in a way he couldn't imagine perfectly. He'd never heard you that serious. Guilt suddenly hit him in the chest, drawing his attention back to you.
Vil stared at you longingly for much longer than he would have allowed himself if you were conscious. He groaned and walked towards you.
"I want to save you, Y/N," Vil declared wistfully as he stood over you. "I do know if I can be your true love, but Seven, I'm out of ideas."
Vil leaned closer to you and brushed a hair out of your face.
"Maybe I'll be able to do this right one day."
Vil brought his lips to yours gently, barely touching them before he pulled away. He watched your face for any signs of movement. When you stayed stationary, he turned away, trying to shut out his disappointment.
"Honestly, when did I get so delusional?" Vil scoffed, desperately trying to push down his feelings. "In what sort of foolish fantasy do I count as Y/N's true love?"
"Mine, probably."
Vil whirled around, his usual grace abandoned in his shock at hearing your voice in his ears in lieu of his head.
You groaned as you sat up, a bit confused as you examined the flowers you were holding.
"Sorry, that was probably a dumb thing to say," you laughed, shocking Vil with how easily you adjusted to your surroundings. "Though I guess you really are my true love. You can't try to deny it, I've got the receipts."
Vil's lip quirked up at your instant snap back to teasing.
"My word against yours, potato."
...
Buy me a Kofi! ☕
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shadow4-1 · 29 days
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I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.
You start to become an Omega.
"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"
Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.
"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"
The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.
He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.
"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"
"She's turning into an Omega."
Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.
"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.
"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.
"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.
Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.
"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.
"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.
"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."
"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.
"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."
"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."
"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.
"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.
"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"
"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."
"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."
The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.
"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."
You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.
As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.
This is your first heat.
Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.
"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.
Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.
...and there's no going back.
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earthtooz · 8 months
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in which: alhaitham resorts to lying on top of you in order to get you speaking to him again.
quick alhaitham thought i needed to get off my mind, making out at the end lol, potentially ooc
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there were a lot of things you didn’t expect when entering a relationship with alhaitham. you didn't expect him to have kaveh as a roommate, you didn’t expect him to overthrow the government, and you didn’t expect him to resort to pettiness in order to end the silent treatment you were giving him.
it’s suffocating beneath him, squished into his soft mattress with his body weight, muscles wrapped around you like a python whilst one arm is extended outwards, balancing a book. you wonder if he’s actually reading it, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself regardless, evident through the way he often turns his head to place a kiss on your exposed collarbone, burying his face into your warmth from here to there. 
for the umpteenth time, you grunt, losing your mind just a little. his body warmth was getting too much, and you’ve been lying here for who knows how long, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.
you want to protest, berate him for flattening you before shoving him off, but that would mean surrendering, and this time, you want alhaitham to be the one to give up first. 
as if hearing your thoughts, your grey-haired lover then glances up at you, sleepy gaze filtered through messy strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes. you almost cave at the domesticity of it all, only just stopping yourself from brushing his bangs away. 
“still upset?” he murmurs, putting his book face-down to wrap his arms tighter around your torso. “fine. have it your way, i’m going to nap.”
“no-” he perks up at the sound of your voice, raising an eyebrow as a mask of smugness gleams over his face. you shut your mouth immediately, cursing at yourself to slip up so easily, but you really needed to stretch out your legs and the other discomforts of lying like an unmoving plank beneath alhaitham. 
“what was that?” challenges your boyfriend. you don’t answer him, merely staring him down as he sits back, grabbing your wrists. “oh come on, i know you want to say something, out with it.” 
shaking your head, he scoffs at your stubbornness as if his isn’t just as frustrating, and gently caresses your hand. his touch is tantalising, urging you to give in, and paired with that lidded look of his, it’s practically impossible not to.
not many people get to see alhaitham like this, you realise. most know him as an indifferent, closed off, and unapproachable scribe, turned grand sage, turned scribe, yet you get the honour of seeing him as this. “talk to me already,” he demands gently, not letting his grip waver even as you keep trying to pull your hands away, only slipping away so far before he’s holding you again.
there aren’t many battles you can win against him, you know that, and one of them was a battle of strength. as he holds your wrists tight to your sides, his face so close to yours, you feel his earlier playfulness melting into something sincere. 
“are you still mad?” asks alhaitham, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as a pout appears along his lips. the response you give him is a petulant turn of your head. he sighs through his nose. “i’m sorry, okay? i was out of line, i should have listened to you, alright?”
his tone is uncharacteristically kind and warm, warm enough for you to give in to his pleas.
“you mean it?” you tease, grinning widely at him. in the blink of an eye, the tension from alhaitham’s shoulder seeps away like sand, and he sighs with relief before agreeing, a solid ‘yes’ slipping through his mouth. “then i accept your apology.”
“you minx, enjoying the sight of me like this, aren't you-” he murmurs, and you swallow his brewing snide remarks with a kiss, closing the gap by firmly pressing your lips against his. alhaitham is not surprised by your sudden affection. rather, he welcomes it, melts into you wholly as a hand holds the back of your neck to keep you against him. you're warm and precious and everything he could ever desire, so he can't help but let his hands wander, searching for more.
as your mouths slot together, there’s a delicate exchange of apologies that words cannot express; ironic, since alhaitham knows of several ways to apologise in a multitude of languages. nevertheless, he thinks that this is the best method.
with the way you move in sync with him, he can tell that this is your favourite too. 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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tteokdoroki · 9 months
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☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. pretty brown eyes.
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about. gojo might be the one with the six eyes, but there’s nothing special about those. your brown eyes are real weapon, here.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! sfw, fluff, hurt comfort. slight hints to insomnia, idk how infinity works sorry, reader has brown eyes, afab!reader.
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“you could kill me if you wanted to.”
it’s the dead of night when he whispers your name. though low in volume, his tongue curls around each syllable loud enough for you to hear him. “
“‘toru, what are you on about—” digging the heal of your palm into your eyes, you dislodge the crust from your lash line and groan. the red lines on your digital clock read sometime between three and four am— but the digits blur as your mind swims with sleep.
“your eyes. they’re so perfect.” a loving grin etches itself onto his face when you crack one open to look at him, masking over the exhaustion seeping from his pores and the anxiety that spikes in the sapphire pools of his own eyes. “you should be able to get away with anything because of them.”
“baby,” you reiterate and roll over to face him fully. gojo gets like this when he’s overworked and worried, when there’s something big on his mind you’re not quite sure you’d understand. you move to jab a thumb into his forehead, right between his brows to alleviate the ache in his skull but you don’t let your disappointment show when rough skin meets the dull buzz of his infinity.
you forget that his six eyes flow in the dark — that his blue eyes are not as blue as they seem. “you’re talking nonsense, it’s late. get some sleep.”
“my eyes. they could kill me if i worked too hard.”
satoru’s eyes are a lot stormier than most would expect, they can be dark and cold. like an angry ocean tired of tournament. they can be bright, full of hope and loving — you notice that change whenever he’s with your students. they hide behind the frame of his ability, the one that hardly ever turns off despite how it really could kill him.
his mind is always running, his body almost always on empty.
in the moonlight, you see a faint sliver of silver between the flecks of diamond and stormy skies.
he swipes a gentle thumb just over cheek yours to catch a fallen lash. “but yours,” gojo continues, voice thoughtful and low. tired above all else. “those pretty brown eyes…baby, they’re dangerous in a different way. beautiful in another that makes me feel safe. puts my mind at ease or somethin’. one look ‘nd I’d be doing anything for you,”
there the two of you are, face to face in the dark — cheeks pressed to pillows and heads under the covers as if you’re children shielding yourself from the world. creating the safe space to let satoru confess.
“if those pretty brown eyes were the last thing i got to see before i died. then i think i’d be okay.”
“don’t say that.” your face crumples and his infinity falls away as if gojo had been anticipating your touch, the buzz just shocking through your skin as you wrap your arms around his larger frame, pull his head down to your heart beating in your chest. “you’re not allowed to die, satoru. not yet.”
“i know.” for once he’s grateful he can’t see your eyes — he hates the way they shine when you cry.
“i need you.”
“i know.” he’s quiet. “i need you too.”
“then rest, you don’t have to keep watch.” gojo feels the shake in your lungs as you speak. you worry too much about him. but with your hand cascading through his soft locks, and the other squeezing him close he’s finding it hard to resist.
usually when he lays next to you, he’s stiff as a board, always anticipating whatever danger might come next. but the biggest threat to him of all is you, and those big brown bambi eyes of yours — the way they’re wet with love, shiny with tears because you adore satoru gojo. you care about him way too much for your own good.
those eyes of yours are convincingly treacherous , he can’t help but let his body sag and let go of his cursed technique while you rub his back and soothe him.
“you’re dangerous, yanno,” satoru grunts, lips dragging along your skin with every word. “especially when you look at me like that, with those puppy dog eyes…can’t say no to you.”
but you smile as he drifts off, his tall frame heavy against you — your lashes blinking soft against his forehead as you curl around him protectively. “i’d rather use them to get you to rest, rather than kill you. ‘toru.”
your words are wasted on deaf ears — his deep snore indicating that gojo is finally asleep, doing himself a favour and locking his pretty blue eyes away.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap
Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.
Word Count: 4k
Part 2: READ HERE
The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you. 
Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction. 
Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.
All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.  
Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly. 
“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”
As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”
To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”
Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”
Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.  
Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says. 
The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze. 
You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit. 
And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.
“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement. 
You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.
“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”
He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”
You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.
With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge. 
You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.  
The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore. 
The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”
He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?” 
Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”
“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.
“Yes,” you confirm. 
Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.
Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.
The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.
Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.  
It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”
Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.
Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.
Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together. 
How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?
The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.
You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth. 
That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him. 
The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth. 
And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.
You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.
The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand. 
Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his. 
Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment. 
Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed. 
Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.
“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”
It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready.  But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own. 
By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent. 
You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.
“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.
Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both. 
Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.
Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”  
You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie. 
“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”
You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case. 
“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.
You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back. 
“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”
The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.
Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up. 
You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken. 
Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.
The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it. 
Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed. 
This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.
And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.
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