#i missed his smile that smile was like BOOM dopamine

[sachiko1309]

The good old Doc - Part 7

Missed the start? No problem, here is the first part, the following ones are always linked at the end, so you dont have to search endlessly. 😉

Summary: Lieutenant Lilith Adams enlisted back in the military, only to be met with a certain cocky pilot. Overcoming certain past traumas, she tries to fit in with the team of pilots as their personal medic. Soon finding her stuck between a certain good looking aviator and her work morals.

This is a series which is currently in the making, so I don’t exactly know how long it is going to be. 😊

Word count: 2693

Warnings: none

We were the last to land. Jake taking another round over the base and the hangar. But when we did, as soon as the top from the jet came up, I heard cheering all around. The other team members applauding me for my first flight. Smiling like a proud little boy, Jake firstly helped me out of the seat and then back down on the ground. Putting an arm around my shoulders he pulled me close to his body. “You did so great, darlin. I cant believe you have not thrown up.”

I smiled at him, not noticing, that Rooster came up behind me. “Yeah, you are officially better than Hangman. He hurled like hell during his first flight.”

“That’s not true. I threw up once, Bradshaw.” Jake retorted, putting another arm around me, as if to claim me. I didn’t care, as I was just drunken on the dopamine and adrenaline my body was producing in masses. That’s what may have pushed me to do a bold thing.

Grabbing Jake on each side of his vest, I pulled him down to me, pressing my lips to his. He stiffened up for a split second, before giving in to the kiss. Wrapping his arms tightly around my waist. His lips were soft, delicately moving against mine. But as soon as he gave in to the kiss, he fought me for control. And I was more than happy to oblige. Letting him reign free over my mouth and body I held onto him, moaning slightly at the feeling of him holding me even tighter. He broke the kiss, looking down at me. And a second time this day, I found myself be twirled around by a certain blond pilot.

If it could be possible, the cheering around us became even more joyous. Prompting Jake to put me down and kiss me a second time. This kiss was so much more intense than the first one. Sending butterflies and sparks all over my body. He was rough and demanding. Grip hard on my hips. Claiming me for everyone to see. I would have stayed in this position forever, if it weren’t for Admiral Simpson to break the moment.

“Lieutenant Seresin, stop snogging your medic!” His voice boomed over the loud cheering. Instantly the noise broke down and Jake pushed me behind his back, puffing up towards Cyclone, who came strutting in like a tornado. But as soon, as he saw that Cyclone was wearing what could be described as a smile on his face, Jake relaxed. “Admiral Simpson…” He was interrupted by the older man lifting his hand. “Its alright, son. I saw what happened, but props to you for willingly taking the hot seat for her You are a good guy, Seresin. Keep her happy for me.” Cyclone was now smiling wider, putting his hand on Jakes shoulder. Then he turned to me, raising and eyebrow. “May I have a talk with you really quick?”

I stepped around Jake, my body shrinking under Cyclones hard gaze. I gave Jake the helmet and started walking after Admiral Simpson. As soon as we were out of hearing range he began to speak: “I cant believe all it took this man was to fly you around in his plane for you to throw all of your morals over board.” I shook my head. “That’s not what pushed me to kiss him. It’s the way he treats me. The way he cared for me yesterday and this morning. How he let his hard Hangman shell slip away and got all nervous asking me out for a date.” I giggled at the memory.

“And you are sure about him?” Cyclone asked, looking me up and down.

“100%” Smiling up at him, with a bright grin. “I don’t care about the things people will say. I have him and my team. That’s as best as it gets.” My statement made the Admiral chuckle. “It’s a rare occurrence for you to act all lovey dovey, so he must have really made an impression… But come on. A 30 year old? Didn’t know older man where your ride.”

“You are such an ass!” I wheezed, turning bright red at his words, only for him to laugh even more: “What? Its true.” “30 isnt that old.” I retorted. “And if it is, what are you then? A fossil?”

“Careful of your next words.” He warned me, jokingly waving his finger in front of my face. I just tapped him on the shoulder, turning around to go back to my team. “Sure thing, granpa!” I called back over my shoulder, smiling at Cyclones sudden stiffness. “Don’t worry he hasn’t dicked me down, yet.”

“Lieutenant Adams!” Admiral Simpson was using his commanding voice, trying to scare me off, but it just made me laugh harder. “You were the one starting it, don’t play all innocent now!” I received an angry glare at my cockiness, but I could see, that Cyclone was trying to force down a smile himself, so I was good to go. Returning to my team, letting me be showered in hugs and congratulations.

“You two are a thing now?” Phoenix asked me, when we were alone in the shower. I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess so, yes.” “How is that even possible?” She seemed bewildered. “Don’t get me wrong, I am happy for you, truly. But Hangman with a girl? That’s some wild shit to take. Tell me, what did you do to him, that got him all smitten by you?”

I laughed at her words. “I did nothing. Just being my old sassy self. He even asked me out on a date this morning, after he went out to get breakfast.”

“He slept over?” My ears were ringing at her sudden screaming. Waving my hands to get her to calm down, I answered: “Turn it down, Nix. Or do you want the whole base to hear you? He slept over, on my couch. Nothing happened. We watched a film, had some left over pizza and beer. I fell asleep on him and he didn’t want to leave me alone, so he picked up some things and stayed. That’s all.”

“Oh. My. God.” She silently screamed, flapping her hands around, to keep her excitement controlled. “That’s a motherfucking big step for someone like Hangman. In all the years I have known him, he never slept over at a girls. Just in and out fast. He really must like you. Tell me, when is your date?”

I sighted, stepping out of the shower and slipping back in my clothes I wore before I got here. It was a knee length black summer dress. It showed off my cleavage just enough to give a good hint without being to slutty. The back of the dress descending to my ankles. I sat down strapping on the thin sandals twisting the black leather straps around my ankles and up my calves. “It already happened. We went for a walk on the beach, getting to know each other better. That’s when I decided to call Cyclone and ask him to let my fly in a jet. You should have seen Jakes face, when I told the Admiral what I wanted. I swear he saw his life flashing by.”

“That’s something I really want to see.” Phoenix chuckled, dressing herself as well. “So, all it takes is a tattooed, pierced, tiny redhead for Hangman to get all soft and lovey?” “Don’t forget my break down. I had to make the first step, for him to open up.” I added giggling.

“Yeah, that thing… You scared me. All of us. The way you just broke down, screaming like all hell broke loose. I have never seen Hangman be so worried. That’s not me saying he doesn’t care, because he does. Greatly. But he never shows it. And in that moment, you broke down, his face fell, he dove right down, catching you and when you clung to him, I swear I saw his heart break.” She sighted, rubbing her arms up and down in distress. “I hope you know, that even if you are much younger than we are, you are still on our team. You are family. And whenever you need something, don’t hesitate to call one of us up.”

“Thank you, Phoenix. Really. Feels good to be accepted into the team.” I pulled her into a hug, truly thankful for her words. But a knock on the door interrupted the sweet moment we had. “Come on girls, don’t let us wait any longer. We are starving and tonight is burger night, which means Maverick is grilling for everyone who pays.” Rooster yelled through the door.

“Coming!” I yelled back, squeezing Phoenix one last time, before grabbing my things and walking towards the door.

Pov Hangman:

“Looks like you got yourself a girl, Hangman.” Rooster punched my shoulder playfully. I let my head hang down, to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks and my lips parting in a stupid grin.

“Fuck man, she got you all whipped.” Coyote giggled. “How is that even possible? I always thought you were one to never settle and all it took was an army medic.”

“I mean she needed to be a lot younger than him, for him to be hooked, so maybe that’s why he never settled before. The women we know are a lot more mature…” Rooster shot at me with a sarcastic grin. And normally his playful comment would not bother me, but him talking about Lilith that way had my blood boil in mere seconds. “Shut it Bradshaw!” I growled, facing him. My jaw was clenched, fists balled at my side. He raised his hands, smile fading from his features. “Calm down, Hangman. You know how I meant it. I didn’t mean to say Lilith was immature or something like that. It was just a joke.”

I took a deep breath, trying hard to relax. “Yeah… I know. I am sorry. Its just… She is so pure, so sweet. Everything in me screams to protect her at all costs. That’s new to me. I have never felt so… so good, safe, understood. She is everything, more than I could have asked for.” Ending my shower I walked to my locker, feeling the stares of my friends burn holes into my back. I picked out a new set of uniform, carefully removing my badges and rank signs from my worn one, throwing it into the pile of dirty laundry. After I put on the uniform, I attached all the badges back, starting to style my hair. Around me the others were getting ready as well, still not saying anything.

Bob was the first to speak. “I know what you feel. With my wife, it was the same. I knew the moment I saw her the first time, that I needed her in my life. It didn’t matter to me if she would become my partner or just stay a friend of mine, but I couldn’t live without her.” I sighted, slamming my locker door close. “But how do I keep her? She deserves so much better, so much more.”

“Stop, bro. You are one of the best pilots, you are someone who cares for his team, his family. Don’t let yourself down by believing you are a bad human for being a fuckboy for the last years. It doesn’t matter, what you have done. What does is the way you treat Lilith. Be there for here, keep her happy and safe. This woman knows how to handle a cocky ass like yours. So, don’t waste it.” Bob smiled at me, tapping my shoulder.

In the beginning, I thought Bob was a shy WSO not capable of keeping up with our team. But after getting to know him better, it turned out he was the most loyal and determent man I have ever met. Whatever it was that he wanted to get done, he found a way. I smiled at his words. “Thank you, Bob. That means a lot. Really.”

“Fucking son of a bitch.” Rooster muttered. “She really has you hooked. To the point where I am creeped out by your genuine niceness.”

“Love you too, Rooster. If you would excuse me, I need to get my girl. You kinda interrupted my date I had with her.” I grinned, running for the door. Behind me I could hear the rest of the team snicker and following me. “You are bluffing, man!” Payback called out, joining my side. “Just because she kissed you, doesn’t mean that was a date.” Now in front of the womens locker room, leaning against the wall in the hallway, I put up my playful side, to hide the fact how lost I was in Lilith. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I kinds was. Until she had the stupid idea of flying in a jet.”

“She asked to fly in a jet with you?” Payback frowned. “Boy that woman is either batshit crazy, or Hangman here put something in her drink.” I squinted my eyes, stepping up to Payback, now facing him with less than 6 inches separating us. “I would never. I know I have not been the nicest to women in the past, but Lilith is different. She trusts me.” My voice was dangerously sharp, forced to a low volume to not alert Phoenix and Lilith on the other side of the door. Behind me I could hear Rooster bang against the womens locker room door. “Come on girls, don’t let us wait any longer. We are starving and tonight is burger night, which means Maverick is grilling for everyone who pays.”

I could hear Liliths muffled “Coming” from the inside, still not stepping back from Payback.

Pov Lilith:

Stepping out from the locker room I was directly hit with high tension. Jake was directly in Paybacks face, backing him into the wall. His jaw was clenched, the eyes filled with anger. Carefully I stepped up to him, touching his arm. I could feel him relax under my touch, but he still didn’t back off. “Everything alright, Jake?” I asked, looking between the two men.

“Yeah. Everything alright. Payback just needs to learn, to keep his mouth shut.” Jake growled, sending shivers down my spine. “I bet what he said wasn’t meant to harm anyone.

“He said you were crazy for trusting me.” Jake snarled, letting me pull him back a bit. I stepped in front of him, taking his face in my hands. “Well, everyone sitting their ass in one of those jets, that only fly because of the speed they are going is a tad bit crazy, so he is right. You know, Jake even though I love the way you are getting all protective of me, they are my team and I would love for it to stay that way. Let them make fun of me, I do it too. That’s how friendships work. But if it makes you feel any better, you can become all puffed up, ready to fight dipshits in the bar. It makes me wanna do things to you that are more than unholy.” Letting go of him, I started to walk down the hallway.

Behind me I could hear Jake take a deep breath, muttering a fuck. I turned around walking backwards, to be met with a stunned team. I let my eyes wander over the surprised expressions, sulking in the way it made me feel all powerful. Cocking my head, I looked at Jake. “Come on, Hangman. If I am not mistaken, we are still on a date and it would be a shame, to leave me hanging like that.”

Instantly he was following me, putting his hand on the small of my back, guiding me through the base. Rooster stepped up next to us, looking down on me. “Can we take you everywhere we go? The way you stun Hangman, forcing him to be silent for at least a few minutes is a gift of God.” I laughed at him, leaning my head on Jakes arm. “Good thing I am assigned to this team.”

#hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #top gun

[chanstopher]

Play With Fire

#Hyunjin #Stray Kids #Createskz #bystay #staysource #skzgifs #skzgif #idolsincedits #mgroupsedit #ultkpopnetwork #drm.pst #drm.gif #this was SOOO good he did SOOOOO good :(((((( #i adore him so much omg #i missed his smile that smile was like BOOM dopamine #i tried to do a gradient thing I don't know if it worked lmao #1k #hwang hyunjin

[jobean12-blog]

Lumberjack in Love

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Lumberjack AU)

Word Count: 1,580

Summary: You’re new to town and you meet your very first neighbor. 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and clean up the archive challenge. It took me a minute to grab his great prompt up buy my lovely friend @eurynome827 totally inspired me and boom here it is. Hope you enjoy. I really liked writing this! Thank you all so very much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ My beautiful divider is by my love @imerdwarf

Warnings: sweet and soft fluff, shy Bucky being a sweet hunk of beefy goodness :)

As you sit on the small porch of your new house and look around you still can’t believe the beauty of the mountains. It’s early Spring so the mornings are still chilly, and you pull your blanket scarf tighter around your shoulders.

A distant bark catches your attention, and you squint through the trees to see a white fluff bounding right toward you. Your first instinct is to run into the house but then you hear the deep voice of the man running after the animal and you pause.

As they get closer you can clearly see it’s a large dog and instantly relax.

“Winter! Come back here right now!” the man yells just as the dog happily trots up your steps.

He nudges his nose under your hand for a pet and you can’t help but oblige.

“Winter!” the man growls and you instantly look up.

And you keep looking up for what feels like miles until you reach the crystal blue eyes of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His long chestnut hair is pulled back into a low bun, but a few pieces have come loose and now frame his perfectly shaped jaw.

Your eyes wander over his plump lips and dark beard before you take in the rest of him. The soft flannel he wears is pulled tight over his broad shoulders and chest with the sleeves rolled up and barely containing his biceps.

The leather belt at his waist is worn and soft but seems pointless when the dark jeans he’s wearing are practically painted onto his thick thighs.  Heavy boots cover his feet as they seem to continuously shuffle back and forth while you shamelessly check him out.

You stand and hold out your hand, introducing yourself. At first he just stares at you then down at your hand before wiping his own on his pants. His large hand closes around yours, the warmth and strength sending a new wave of appreciation through you.

“Hi, I’m Bucky,” he says quietly, holding onto your hand a bit longer than necessary before quicky letting go and shuffling on his feet again.

“It’s nice to meet you Bucky,” you reply, pointing at the dog. “And who is this?” you ask.

“Oh! Right. That’s Winter. Sorry about that. He took off after a squirrel and then he must have caught your scent. There aren’t too many people around here so…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“He’s beautiful,” you gush, scratching Winter behind the ears but never taking your eyes from Bucky.

His tongue darts out to lick his lips and his mouth opens but nothing comes out. After a few more seconds of silence, he seems to find his voice.

“Thanks! He’s a good boy, just adventurous. I hope he uh, didn’t disturb you or anyone else,” he mumbles, gesturing toward your house.

“Not at all,” you assure him. “It’s just me and I’m happy he came to say hello and brought you along too. You’re the first neighbor I’ve met.”

“I think I’m your only neighbor,” he laughs. “I’m just about a quarter of a mile that way and I think the next house might be two and half miles passed me.”

“Well, I’m glad it’s you. And Winter is just a bonus,” you flirt.

The pink that creeps up his cheeks only makes you like him more and can’t stop your giggle.

“I’m about to make some blueberry muffins. Could I bring you some when they’re done?” you ask. “I can’t eat them all myself.”

“Yeah! I love muffins! Thank you,” he replies with a lopsided grin.  

“Ok great! I’ll see you soon,” you cheer, giving him a beaming smile. “Just that way right?” you ask him, pointing at the path in the trees.

“Huh?” he answers, staring and blinking a few times. “Oh, yea. My house. It’s uh, yep just down that path, can’t miss it.”

He shoves his hands in his jean pockets and kicks at some imaginary dirt.

“Ok then, I’ll see you soon Bucky and Winter,” you say and start to walk up your steps.

He waits for you to get to the door and open it before waving and jogging off, Winter hot on his heels.

When the blueberry muffins are baked and still warm you pack them up with some butter and start the short walk to Bucky’s house. The path is lined with stones and the tall evergreen trees create a beautiful aromatic frame along the dirt. The sound of cracking wood reaches your ears the closer you get.

At the end of the path the land opens up to large piece of green grass with the perfect log cabin sitting at the back. You smile when you see Winter sitting on the porch, his big and fluffy tail thumping loudly on the wood.

You look to the right and finally see the source of the sound. Bucky stands over a pile of wood and a large tree stump, wielding a large axe with ease. He brings it up above his head and swings it down, splitting the wood perfectly.

It’s hard to tear your eyes away from him and the way his muscles move under the tight clothing. It isn’t until Winter’s cold nose hits your leg that you look away and start walking again.

Winter’s happy barks pull Bucky’s attention from the wood and he turns to you. He sets down the axe and comes over to take the basket from your hands.

“Hi again,” he says sweetly, quickly looking at the muffins before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m glad you came back.”

You hook your arm through his. “Of course, I did,” you state obviously and pull him toward the porch. “Who else am I going to share these muffins with.”

He chuckles and dips his head, unable to hide the permanent flush on his cheeks whenever he’s around you.

“We could sit on the porch swing if you want. Or if it’s too cold you’re welcome to come in,” he tells you. “I could make tea. Do you drink tea? I also have coffee if you prefer. Or something cold? I should have lemonad…”

He’s about to go on but you reach up and place your hand on his cheek.

“Tea is just fine Bucky, thank you,” you say softly. “And we can sit out here. It’s so beautiful and the sun is warm.”

He nods a few times before rushing into the house to make the tea. You sit on the swing and prepare the muffins, gently pushing yourself back and forth with your foot. Winter lays just a few feet away in a warm patch of sunshine.

“Ok, hot tea coming right up,” Bucky says as he pushes the screen door open with his butt.

He sits opposite you on the bench, the basket of muffins between you and places the cups on the small table to the side.

“I brought honey, milk and sugar. I hope one of those will be ok,” he says.

“Perfect, thank you! I hope you like the muffins. I have butter for them too,” you say, holding one up on a napkin.

He takes it and has a bite, the crumbling dough breaking apart and getting stuck on his lips and in his beard.

“Wow. These are amazing,” he raves before taking another large bite.

You move the basket from between your bodies and shift closer to him. You bring your fingers up to his chin and lightly brush off the crumbs before swiping your thumb over his lips.

“They’re very crumbly and messy,” you explain, letting your gaze settle on his mouth before taking a bite of your own muffin.

“They’re perfect,” he stammers, clearly reacting to your touch.

His eyes watch as your tongue traces your lips to clean them of crumbs and he audibly swallows.

“These are amazing,” he mumbles, unmoving.

“You said that already,” you tease, squeezing his bicep before reaching for a cup of tea.

“Did I?” he says, more to himself than you. “I did. Didn’t I?”

You nod with a giggle and take a sip of tea. Winter trots over and rests his nose on the edge of the swing, clearly waiting for someone to share.

“Can I give him a piece?” you ask.

“Sure,” Bucky replies, laughing when Winter scarfs down the piece of muffin in one bite. “That’s one of the ways we’re the same. He loves to eat as much as I do.”

You throw your head back with a laugh.

“Well, that works out just great for me because I love to bake and cook!” you tell him. “As a matter of fact, I’m making pot pie for dinner. You should join me.”

Bucky doesn’t hesitate for a second when he answers.

“I’d love that. Pot pie is on of my favorites.”

You take one last sip of your tea before standing and covering the muffins.  

“The rest are for you,” you say, pushing the basket toward him. “And I have a feeling you’ll say that about a lot of the things I make,” you say playfully. “I’ll see you at 6 sharp then?”

“Yes, definitely,” he whispers, his eyes going wide when you lean in to place a soft kiss to his cheek.

“See you then, Bucky. And don’t forget to bring Winter and an appetite,” you yell as you head back down the path to your house.

@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky​ @book-dragon-13​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @fxckbuckyscoming​ @hiddles-rose​ @jhangelface0523​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @jewels2876​ @littleredstarfish​ @lookiamtrying​ @lorilane33​ @loricameback​ @la-cey @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @cherryblossomskye​ @tuiccim​ @whatrambles​ @white-wolf1940​

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky x reader fluff #bucky au #lumberjack!bucky #lumberjack!bucky au #bucky #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky drabble #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #hbc drunk drabbles #hbc clean up the archive challenge

[ahtsumu]

the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!” 

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.” 

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.) 

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou scenarios #kuroo tetsurou imagines #haikyuu!!

[sheep-and-lykos]

Tearing Metal: Genji Shimada x Werewolf!Reader

Song Choice: Dopamine - BORNS

For months, you had been missing, just another face on an ever-growing wall law enforcement were too "busy" to ever care for. He never understood law enforcement himself despite working for Blackwatch when he was younger and now partnered back into Overwatch, he only understood the difference between good and evil and he knew both sides had their fair share of bad deeds. Genji wasn't a naive man.

But when search groups came back with dogs and trackers held loosely in their hands, Genji knew he had to take matters into his own hands.

He knew you weren't dead like the police had stated. Every day he would scoff at the death certificate he had tossed aside on the kitchen counter only to eye at your coffee mug sitting next to the coffee machine. It was so cold without being warmed up every morning, Genji couldn't bring himself to making tea with it without you next to him in the mornings.

He was shocked when Hanzo had come knocking on his front door one morning, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Genji got to the door.

"They found them," was all he said before he handed over a holopad to Genji.

Taking the device from his brother, Genji stared in awe at the footage before him. Talon had stolen you from off of the streets, his heart twisted at the fear in your eyes, he could only wince at the possible screams and cries you let out as you fought back.

"Where?" Genji asked as the tablet went blank.

"Winston was able to track them back to Northern Russia."

Genji eyed his brother before closing the door behind him.

Even as he followed Hanzo by his side, he couldn't help but let something bad bubble inside of his gut.

The base looked so abandoned, Genji eyed around as both he and his brother stepped carefully through the seemingly hollow base.

Was this the right hideout? Was Winston right by tracking you down here?

There were no guards, no active motion detectors nor any other forms of security. All of the rooms were abandoned. Computers ice-cold, wires unplugged and tangled, monitors smashes and computer parts are gone - mostly the hard drives - which left most of the doors wide open for the two to roam around. But what was weird was that the lights were on and the heat was blasting, almost like people were here.

They had passed by multiple rooms marked "experimental" followed by a series of numbers or by a code name.

"What do you think lies waiting for us?" Genji questioned his brother.

"Something likely to catch us off guard. Watch yourself."

Hanzo slowly drew an arrow from his quiver, eyeing around before both brothers jumped. The arrow drew back far against the bowstring, the bow groaning as Hanzo swung the arrow towards a dark corridor.

It sounded like someone had moaned.

The brothers were not alone in this base.

Something stirred under his armor, Genji's shoulder and what organic material remained of his right arm seemed to heat up and vibrate... Just like how it did when his dragon wanted to come out with you around...

Resisting the urge, Genji drew out shurikens and followed right behind Hanzo towards the dark corridor.

The two squinted, only to be taken back.

In the dark hallway, at the end, sat a door just like the others, but it was closed. The key panel was lit up, the lights inside were brighter than the ones everywhere else.

Some poor experimented soul had been left behind to suffer all alone in the abandoned base.

Genji moved past Hanzo despite the older brother huffing through his nose for Genji to stop, yet the younger brother pushed past towards the key panel.

He briefly glanced at the room's name, squinting at the code name of LB-217 before looking through the door's glass.

He was shocked to see a figure through the door, albeit, they were in a separate room, the viewing room for the experimentation and had gone to the key panel.

Without thinking, Hanzo pushed Genji aside to smash the corner of his bow into the panel, pushing Genji inside the room.

"Go get them!" he pointed.

Confused, Genji turned back to the viewing room and recoiled in shock and worry.

It was you.

Feet scraping for purchase against the metal flooring, he had completely given up all common sense and moved to the door blocking you from him. As Hanzo reeled his bow back to slam it into the key panel once more, he stilled, eyeing the room before him.

Large tears in the metal walls and floors, dried blood splattered everywhere, including the ceiling, cracks in the glass, chains and leather restraints on a hospital bed thrown into the far corner.

"Genji," he quietly called, lowering his bow.

Ignoring his brother once more, Genji had somehow gotten lucky with the keypad and watched as the door slid open before booking it to you.

Laying on your side crumpled to the ground, back to him with your body pressed against the wall was where you laid near motionless. You were dressed in an old, ratty bathrobe that was covered with dirt and blood and grime, with torn apart pants and short, sock stretched out and missing at the toes.

He carefully bent down, slowly reaching to touch at your shoulder. He smiled softly as you groaned.

"(Y/n)," he murmured. He watched as your head slowly rolled towards his face, he could see your face all scratched up and scarred, sweat beading all over your skin. "What did they do to you, my flower?" he sighed, stroking your cheek with the back of his index finger.

"Genji," Hanzo called from the door.

"Genji?" you murmured, eyelids fluttering.

"It's me, my love, I am here."

You sank into his gentle touches before coiling back in fear, finally opening your eyes.

Both he and Hanzo jumped when you snatched at his forearm. Genji gasped at your wild eyes, irises bleeding yellow instead of your beautiful hues.

"You need to go!" you pleaded. Your grip on his arm tightened, the metal crunching and screeching as your hand slowly closed. Sparks flew and tore as Genji tried to pull away from you. "They knew you were coming! You need to go!"

He was thrown back, a violent screeching bleeding both brothers' ears. As Hanzo snatched at Genji's shoulders to pull him up, Genji saw his metal forearm with long scratches in the metal, wiring torn and oils spurting out. A look back at your hand showed long, wicked claws sprouting from the tips of your fingers.

"Run!" Hanzo boomed, dragging Genji back by the fabric behind his head.

#genji #genji shimada #genji x reader #overwatch genji #Overwatch #overwatch imagines

[sa-lt-ys]

An Immortal Death

Universe: Detroit: Become Human Pairing: RK800 x Reader Warnings: Violence, angst… again. Word Count: 1011 words

Remember when I said no more angst? 

I lied.

This was inspired by a conversation I had with my friend, who is just evil for this. So, blame him.

~

A week ago, you had been the perfect image of a couple, laughing and holding hands wherever you walked, always spending your nights curled up together... You were the perfect image of happiness and love, and even Hank had been happy for you both... So had you.

In an abandoned alley not far from the DPD, you stood above your own boyfriend, the barrel of your gun pressed to his forehead. His eyes were wide with hurt and betrayal even as you smirked at him.

"It was always going to end this way, Connor."

I didn't want it to end this way, Connor.

"You lied to me?" You chuckled, shrugging.

"I can't say I'm sorry."

I'm so sorry Connor, please, forgive me...

"Why are you doing this? I thought you loved me?"

"Because I have my orders, and I never loved you."

I hate my orders, and I always loved you.

With an sharp click, you cocked the gun, giving the android beneath you a cold smile even as his eyes hardened with hatred. It wasn't his fault. CyberLife wanted a spy, and got you to do the job. It took a while, but you had the information you needed, and now your orders were to kill him. The knowledge he had now would be lost during the upload to his new body.

"This isn't over, (Y/N)." With a final chuckle, you gave Connor one final smile.

"Oh I know sweetie, this is only the beginning. Now, hush, hush... its time to say goodnight."

And a gunshot rang out, the sound still ringing in the air as you walked away, hands stained blue, heart twisting and your mind screaming.

I didn't want this. I didn't want it! I don't want him dead! I want him alive and in my arms! I killed him! I killed my boyfriend! I killed the man I loved! I don't want this job! I want to be free... I want to be free!

The RK800, the original one, was a simple kill. On the floor, a little bit of bickering, the painful vision of the betrayal in his eyes... then it was just a matter of pressing the barrel of the gun to his forehead, and boom. Connor was dead, and you were free to continue on with your business. You had to admit to there being a small amount of pain within your chest, but... it was soon snuffed out. You didn't get this far in your cursed job because you let your emotions get the better of you.

That's what dopamine suppressants were for... or so your controllers said.

The RK800, mark 61, now that was more interesting. Of course, this time, he was expecting you to try to kill him, so naturally it was harder, but the tussle you had, oh it was wonderful. There was so much passion and anger that for a moment, you could forget that you were nothing more than a puppet, a thing being jerked around on strings that cut deep, strings you couldn't cut no matter how hard you tried.

Mark 61 tried his hardest too... but you had something to fight for, something that was more precious to you than the android you had called your lover. Though you missed them both, you knew you had no choice but to pick your priorities, and when one of them was trapped who-knows-where, probably sobbing for you... You found it was far easier to shoot through Connor's legs before placing a hesitant bullet in his skull.

Thankfully your tears were hidden from all who could have been watching.

The next few Connor's that came your way were rather simple as well, what with the years of training and hell you had been put through. It was always a different version of you pressing the gun to his head... but it was always the same ending. Thirium on the floor, on your hands, and a pain in your chest that only grew and grew with each new kill.

By the time the 11th Connor came around, you couldn't do it any more.

"You didn't mean what you said the first time, did you?" Even now, after shooting him so many times, having his blood on your hands so many times, the sight of him never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

"No," You said quietly, not even bothering to draw your gun. "I could never mean it. To not have some kind of affection for you after all that happened? I would have to be worse than a non-deviated android. But..."

"Who is controlling you?"

"I can't tell you. You know that, Connor. You should just leave." You turned to go back inside your home, but was stopped by a sudden pain in your non-dominant arm, causing the entire limb to go rigid as you clutched at it. The burning sensation was impossible to ignore, and tears flooded your eyes at the agony. They knew. They knew about your hesitation. They were warning you. You had to... You had no choice.

"(Y/N)! What’s wrong?!" You sucked in a deep breath, knowing the consequences. She was so young. You couldn't let it happen. You had to do your job, even though your heart clenched at the genuine worry in Connor's voice. He still cared? Even after your betrayal?

Your heart sank as you were forced to draw your gun, holding it up until it was level with Connor's head.

"I'm sorry, Connor... I can't escape this just as you can't. I just hope you don't hate me too much when you look back on times like when we went to that bookshop..." You laughed sadly through your tears, hoping that would be saved in the memory of his next body.

Connor sighed, walking towards you until his head was touching your gun.

"It's okay," he said softly, kindly, lovingly. "I don't blame you. I love you, (Y/N)."

With a final, wobbly smile, you shut your eyes, turned you head away, and pulled the trigger for the eleventh time.

#ouch #there will be a second part #I wonder if anyone reads these #dbh #Detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #rk800 connor #rk800 connor x reader #dbh angst

[ecotone99]

[SF] Happy 92nd Mr Chivers

Marnold eases back into his chair and breathes a sigh of relief. It was his 92nd birthday; retirement age. No more 10am starts, no more having to relinquish three days a week to the full-time employment rat race. Finally.. free. He relishes the moment, feeling his chair snug him warmly, its material continuously and amorphously shifting around his frame to maximise comfort. The quality of the air, the heat from his coffee cup, the light beaming through his window. Goldilocks would be jealous, he joked to himself.

“Sim-space, show me my father’s television from 2018 please.” The sim-space AI assistant quickly peruses the latest scan of its owners memory and inquires, ‘The Samsung, Mr Chivers?’ Marnold confirms with a nod. The boundaries that contain the sim-space glow to resemble an empty cuboid against the wall, warning any bodied-beings not to come close. For a second, Marnold hears that call of the void that so many do and wonders “what would happen if I put my hand.. ?” He’d heard the horror stories, obviously, but couldn’t quite fathom the science of it. Some picoseconds later however, there popped into existence a perfect reconstruction of the television from his memory inside the sim-space.

Marnold picks up the remote, a device that was used to remotely control electronic devices back in Modern times, and looks through the simulated content on the television. Marnold squints at the screen, reacquainting himself with the 2-dimensional nature of Modern video. His eyes widen at a collection of pixels - ‘World Snooker Final’. It had been too long since Marnold had last watched a real game of chess with balls - as he would put it. His finger instructs the remote with a button press, and a pulsing infra-red energy bathes the room momentarily. The television summons to life a broadcast of yore; a gentle ensemble consisting of a giant green table centre-screen, with smartly-dressed human beings knocking sticks and balls over it. Marnold catches himself daring a smile, “the good old days.” He puts his feet up on the stool in front.

“Grea’granda!”

Plucked away from his contentment and with a whiff of irritation, “Wh-wha? Who’s there?”

“It’s Russ you fool, happy birthday -slash- retirement! Thought I’d whip by, ya know, see how you are. Thought it better than just sending another dopamine hit.”

Marnold smiles. He could never put his finger on it, but there was always something better about seeing people - he had never fully signed up to the idea of reading a well-wishing and injecting the enclosed gift of dopamine. It felt nice, sure, but he couldn't help but feel there was something missing. Cards, too! Of all the social-niceties that Marnold hoped would die off with technological progress, cards had stuck around like a bad smell. Maybe 92 is when you start getting cranky he thought to himself.

“Ahh thank you, it is good to see someone non-digitally once in a while,” he replies, concealing his cynicism nicely.

Russ points to the sim-space. “A television? C’mon gramps, of all the things you could will into existence.. a television?”

Marnold squirms. “Well the good vibes sure lasted didn’t they(!) Listen, sprog, being 50-something may feel like it has conferred some sort of worldly understanding upon you but, believe me, you’re just starting out. You still have no idea what the important things are in life. And if you can’t appreciate the simple things in life, you have no foundation for the complex things. This television is my simple thing. It is my birthday. My retirement day. And I wish to spend it as I mean to go on - appreciating the simple things.” So rarely does he socialise these days, Marnold had almost forgotten how quick he was to anger.

“Simple things, simple minds. That’s what father says.”

Marnold mumbles his frustration, “Yes. I know exactly the kind of person my son-in-law is.”

A palpable silence hangs. It’s funny how tension can manifest socially, no other emotion can fill a room in the same way. The 2040’s wave of pheromonologists got close to understanding it before you-know-what happened. Russell’s cortisol-meter started shrieking which didn’t subtract from the awkwardness, but does at least act as a call-to-action for someone to cut the tension, “Well- what are you watching then?”

“Snooker” is the unenthusiastic, staccato reply. Marnold continues watching the screen emptily, pretending to be engrossed but projecting annoyance.

“Didn’t know humans used to play.” Russ responded.

Marnold groaned as though those words were daggers to his sensibilities. “Yes... It’s just another domain that AI took from us. God damn robots - they have no philosophy! Pure pragmatists. They completely destroyed snooker - turned it from a gentlemanly game into an arms race.”

Through a flattened smile and nodding dog routine, Russ’s lack of interest was obvious. He signals to the entrance with his thumb, “Well I’d better be goi--”

“-- an arms race I tell you! That’s why there’s so many rules governing the game these days. It started off as a friendly between bot and human - just a novelty, like that Jeopardy show and IBM’s Watson?” Marnold looks to Russ for a bodily cue to continue.. nothing - at least, nothing encouraging. "Ah well," he thinks to himself, "it’s my birthday and I'll rant if I want to."

“Well, maybe it’s not living memory for you youngins but the world went crazy for the first bot v. human snooker match. It’s ironic thinking back on it now, we were clapping our eventual oppressors. Everyone tuned in to witness flesh versus circuits and saw a microcosm of their future. ‘Ronnie O’Sullivan vs G147-365’. Man vs machine. And what a machine(!) A jumped-up laptop connected to a junkyard frame. It couldn’t even pick up its own cue - it had to be carefully inserted into its grip by a technician.”

Russ was looking in Marnold’s direction, but you couldn’t charitably say that he was looking at him. Looking through seems more appropriate; his mind clearly pre-occupied.

“It was a bloodbath - metaphorically, of course. I mean, the bot started off quite slow, sure, but it was learning. Every time it whiffed a shot, it updated its algorithms to appropriately account for the mismatch. By halftime, the only shots Ronnie got to take was when it was his turn to break! G147 was hitting maximum points routinely by the end. And you know what? Not one of them were as beautiful as Ronnie’s 5 minute corker back in 1997.”

Russ, eyeing the clock on the wall, noticed a pause amid Marnold’s white noise and felt he had to prove he was listening. “Uhh... 1997 huh?”

Marnold, noticing that Russ had only picked up on the last word he’d said, continued with spiteful grace. “Yes. 1997. But that’s what I mean by no philosophy, there’s no meaning in what they do. It’s just all numbers and logic gates. No art, no style. Pure pragmatism.”

“It didn’t end there though. Ooooooh no. Then the bot v bot matches began. Every country in the world slowly jumping in to prove their AI researchers were the best. You know, like how America and Russia fought a proxy-war by proving who could get to the moon first - thereby proving who was technologically superior? Snookerbots were fast becoming that, except it had no end goal. They just competed endlessly, accepting diminishing returns on their victories each time - perhaps preferable to other forms of national chauvinism, granted.”

“But they’d be outfitted with fancy cameras and sensors - detecting every possible detail of the table. The knap, the humidity, the moisture of the cloth, microscopic blemishes on the balls - even mapping the material density of the side-cushions! Soon enough, they were making shots that made no euclidean sense since they could take advantage of unseen imperfections in the table and balls. It used to be that people would clap astonishing feats; maybe an amazing curve shot, or a cunning safety play. But it got to a point where the audience could only appreciate what they were able to understand - everything was so baffling. It was like chaos theory to everyone but the participants.”

Marnold continued with his frustrated nostalgia, “And the sonic booms! That was a game changer. The balls were starting to chip - and sometimes explode - from the impacts of the bots cuing them. So they were upgraded to some nano-whatever to allow the bots to really let rip. And boy, did they. They would hit the cue ball so fast that a mini sonic boom would disturb the entire table! The algorithms of course learned to account for this and soon enough every match was just a stalemate of mini explosions. No country's bot was able to win any more, all they could do was not lose by default - ie, their bot suffering a mechanical malfunction. So, a once-great game became a war of attrition.”

With Russ’s vague silhouette in his periphery, and still looking at the screen (though paying it no attention), he continues. “They’d reached an impasse - every bot was as good as the next one. No further improvements to be made because they were limited by the human imagination. Viewership figures dwindled, sponsors started pulling out and human snooker players were even being asked to come out of retirement - what a novelty(!) They all refused, naturally.”

“So, some hot shot from America gets the idea of asking the bot what it needs to improve. This is what happens when you don’t read and heed Asimov. The bots’ AIs up until this point were permitted to update their algorithms in accordance with sensor data. It was not permitted for an AI to freely rationalise - and for good reason! But, this was pseudo-Cold War 2, and global dominance had to be demonstrated. Now, I’m no AI researcher but I’ve heard it explained as them creating a sort of positive feedback loop between perception and reflection, causing something analogous to consciousness. I mean, whatever, however they did it, they did do it. And so, they fed it the question: What do you need to improve at your task? And do you know what it said?”

A silence goes unacknowledged as Marnold leaves his chair and heads towards his bookcase. He thumbs through a few newspaper cuttings and, after an insociable amount of time in quiet, he produces an article that had the ‘scoop’ back in the day - a printed transcript of the AI’s thought process. Marnold turns around to hand it to Russ but is met with an empty room, and then an empty spirit. He’d left. Marnold slowly lowers his out-stretched arm, article in-hand.

He wonders how long he’d been speaking to himself for, and starts his own feedback loop of doubt and self-loathing. “God damn it..” he scratches the back of his head and makes for his chair again. As he settles in, the material again moulds around him with a pathetic agency - but it is of cold comfort now. Unpacking Russ’s gift, Marnold loads the syringe and looks longingly at the television. “Happy 92nd Mr Chivers...”

submitted by /u/moyohow [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2QgcKmT

#Blogger #Story

[jobean12-blog]

Metal Detector

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 785

Summary: You, Bucky and the team are headed out for some much needed vacation time, let’s just hope you can get through airport security. 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club continuation of drunk drabbles and the super fun prompt below sent in by @buckstaybucky It was too much fun to pass up. I hope you enjoy this and thank you all for reading! Much love always ❤❤❤

Warnings: Fluffy soft fun, flirting and light teasing :) 

“Any more bags doll?” You look up from your backpack, staring at Bucky for a second before cackling. “Oh my god, did I really pack that much?” Bucky is standing in the doorway, his schoolbag on his back, a rolling suitcase in each hand with bags on top of those and two duffle bags hanging off each shoulder. His face says it all. “Well, the backpack and one duffle bag are mine, so…” He fights back a grin and you throw your lip gloss at him, his head moving deftly out of the way.

“Can you pick that up for me please?” He rolls his eyes and shoes it toward you, “come on baby, we don’t wanna miss the flight!” Throwing your bag over your shoulder and grabbing the lip gloss you walk out the door while Bucky holds it open with his foot, “thanks Buck. Want some help.” He shakes his head no, easily handling all the bags.

“I still don’t get why Tony didn’t take us on the jet with he and Pepper, it’s not like we don’t fit.” Bucky scoffs and you turn to glare at him, “what?” “We do fit…but YOUR BAGS DON’T!” You can already hear Sam’s laughter as you approach the elevator. “You better watch it Wilson or it’s gonna be a really long flight.” That shuts Sam up, but his eyes are bright with laughter as soon as he catches sight of Bucky looking like a luggage tree.

Thankfully, Tony arranged for transportation to the airport and you were able to relax comfortably on the way there. “I can’t wait to get to the beach doll face. And Tony said he got us all these little huts right on the water with private pools and gardens.” Resting your head on his shoulder you sigh in contentment, “I know me too! It’s going to be amazing to get some time together away from it all.”

His nose brushes against your ear and his hot breath tickles your neck while he whispers his plans for you in the private pool. You shiver and trail your fingers down his chest, “you promise?” His chest rumbles with a low growl before he kisses you, making Sam start in from the back of the van. “Can you save it for when you’re alone, please. We aren’t even on the damn plane yet.” Pulling away you giggle and stick your tongue out at Sam but not before shouting, “love you!”

You arrive to the airport with plenty of time to spare and make your way through the security check. You’re a bit ahead of Bucky, chatting with Nat and Wanda about some of the excursions you want to do. You get your bags down and through the machine, taking off your shoes and adding them to conveyor belt before walking through the metal detector.

The TSA agent waves you on and you retrieve your things and sit at the bench to slip your shoes back on. You’re laughing at Steve in his socks and flip flops when you hear the loud beep of the metal detector followed by Bucky’s booming voice. “IT’S MY ARM!” You give Steve wide eyes before shoving your foot in your shoe and sprinting back. You stop short when you see Bucky towering over the agent and flexing his arm, the low whirs and shifts of metal making your mind race with thoughts that are entirely inappropriate for the current situation.

From the firm set of his jaw and the rigidness of his body you can tell he’s less than amused so you try to hold back your giggle. Steve stops beside you, throwing you a quick look before walking over and talking with the agent and Bucky. Their voices drop low and Steve pulls out his phone. Bucky’s hands are flying this way and that and he lifts the sleeve of his tee shirt, pointing at where the metal meets his flesh. You’re proud of him, knowing that it took him a long time to get to a place where he would even let his metal arm be seen in a short sleeve tee let alone point out where it’s attached.

You catch his eye and give him a warm smile, waving and blowing him a kiss so he knows you’re there with him. He winks at you and turns back to Steve and the agent, listening while Steve talks on the phone. A minute later the three men are shaking hands and smiling, and Bucky grabs the carry on bags and walks toward you. He leans close, “you’re gonna have to stop me from drowning Stark once we get there. I have a feeling he was behind this.”

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @buckys-broody-muffin @bucky-on-my-mind @buckys-henley @buckys-minty-breath @breezy1415 @buckosawrus @cuddles-with-bucky @schmucksbucks @buckstaybucky @chuuulip @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @hawksmagnolia @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @imgaril-lindru @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @lorilane33 @loricameback @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelandotherfandomimagines @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @sallycanwait68​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @softpeachbarnes​ @tuiccim​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @the-wayward-robot​ @yansi1923​ @addikted-2-dopamine​

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes drabble #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #Bucky's metal arm kink #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfictio #bucky imagine #bucky drabble #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan #hbc drunk drabbles

[jobean12-blog]

Term of Endearment

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 916

Summary: You let something slip when you’re hanging out with Bucky and instead of dealing with you run away, but he finds you...

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ continuation of drunk drabbles and the two awesome prompts below sent in by @buckstaybucky​ Thank you so much and I hope you like this! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Fluffy sweet fun and some flirting, Sam and Steve being funny and it ends with a bang...light masturbation, oral sex (f rec), dirty talk (18+ only please)

You walked into the common room, Bucky right on your heels and still laughing at your story with his hand over his heart, “oh come on doll, he did not!” You’re thankful he can’t see your face, a light blush painting your cheeks whenever he calls you ‘doll.’ “I kid you not, it looked like things were going so well and then he trips over his own feet and spills half the drink on her. I felt so bad. You should have been there.”

You stand in front of the cabinet and try to grab yourself a glass but can’t quite reach. Before you can even ask him for help, Bucky is behind you, his hard chest pressed to your back as he easily gets one for you. “I know, I wish I were too. I’m sorry I missed a chance to witness something to endlessly tease Sam about.”

Turning around, you swat his chest as he hands you the glass, his cheeky grin making you laugh again. “Thanks baby.” The words leave your mouth so effortlessly and feel so natural, your eyes locking with his as you realize what you’ve said. His body edges closer to yours and hot breath fans your cheek, “what did you just call me?”

Your mouth hangs open with a reply, but Sam and Steve bust into the room, their voices loud and booming while they bicker. “Dude, you can still call her you know. She gave you her number even after you spilled your drink all over her!” Steve has his hands on his hips, glaring at Sam while he waits for a reply. Throwing up his arms in exasperation he yells, “if I call her will you get off my ass Rogers!??” Steve smiles triumphantly, clapping him on the back, “you betcha!”

Sam rolls his eyes and finally notices you and Bucky standing at the counter. “Oh, hey guys, what are you two up to?” You look from Bucky to Sam then to Steve and back to Bucky. “Um, I was just getting water, gotta go. Bye guys.” You slip away from Bucky’s body, your thoughts racing over the clear shift in the air and the way his voice dropped low when he asked what you called him.

Rushing back to your room you fumble with the door, nearly falling inside before slamming it shut behind you. Silently berating yourself for the slip you pace the floor and try to think of a way to get him to forget about it. You roll your shoulders and try to ease some of the tension that’s building, hoping you have enough snacks to last you so you can hide out in your room until forever.

“What they hell was that about?” Sam asks, staring at your exit path. “What did you do Barnes?” Bucky scoffs and gives him the finger. “What did I do? More like what the hell did you do last night, heard you made quite the move on a girl.” Sam returns the finger. “Whatever, at least I’ll have a date after I call her. More than you can say for yourself.”

Back in your room you’re still pacing, practically rubbing a trail into the carpet. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath and stomp to your bedroom. You need a release. Opening your bedside drawer, you retrieve your vibrator and lay on the bed, hoping it will help relieve some of the stress you’re feeling. Spreading your legs, you let your thoughts drift to Bucky. His soft and plump lips trailing kisses over your bare skin and his large hands gripping your thighs while he buries his face between your legs.

“Hey, doll? Doll? You in here? I was worried about you and came to…” You don’t hear him until it’s too late, his arms resting on either side of the doorframe as he stares at your body, legs spread wide and pussy glistening with arousal. He slowly inches closer, giving you an obvious chance to tell him to leave. You hold his gaze, swallowing hard as you take in his darkened eyes and clenched jaw.

“Either tell me to leave or tell me what you’re thinking about that has you so wet.” Your position hasn’t changed as he nears the edge of the bed and you quietly murmur, “you.” He stops at the foot, towering over you and licking his lips, “how about the real thing?” Dropping the vibrator from your hand you crook your finger at him, “get over here baby.”

With a low growl he crawls up your body, brushing his fingers over the wetness between your legs before his mouth crashes to yours. He dominates the kiss, letting his hands roam everywhere they can reach. Pulling away his lips spread warmth over your skin as they trail down over your breasts and stomach. He stops with his mouth inches away from your dripping pussy and kisses the delicate skin along your thighs.

You comb your fingers through his hair and look down at him through lidded eyes, his nose lightly caressing your skin before he swipes his tongue over you. With a tug you draw him closer and your back arches off the bed. “God baby. Your pussy tastes like absolute heaven. Better than I even imagined”, he purrs, his tongue delving deeper and a strangled cry leaves the back of your throat. “Fuck, baby, please don’t stop.” He moans against you, “I don’t plan to, especially if you keep calling me baby.”  

@aesthetical-bucky​ @auro-ora​ @bugsbucky​ @book-dragon-13​ @buckys-henley​ @breezy1415​ @buckys-broody-muffin​ @buckys-minty-breath​ @bucky-on-my-mind​ @buckosawrus​ @chuuulip​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @imgaril-lindru​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @ikaris-whore​ @itsunclebucky​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @lorilane33​ @addikted-2-dopamine​ @loricameback​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @lokilvrr​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @tuiccim​ @the-wayward-robot​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @yansi1923​

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky fluff #bucky smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky drabble #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #sebastian stan #hbc drunk drabbles