#with like a little lull in between of ‘decent’

[gilverrwrites]

“If you will have me, I am yours.” 

Pairing: Human!Castiel/Fem!Reader (Season 9)

Reader has AFAB body parts & feminine pronouns' are used.

Plot: The reader is a retired hunter, who develops feeling for Cas after he moves in with her. After living in domestic bliss for a while, its only a matter of time feelings are confessed, and sex is had.

Please remember: to keep going, and keep growing.

Content: Rough/Kissing, blowjob, rough blowjob/face-fucking, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, dirty talk (Cas doesnt really have a filter) rough sex, swearing, accidental cuddling, intentional cuddling.

Rating: M/18+

Words: 3,377

Notice: The follow up: Takeout Tuesday is now available here.

Excerpt: You vaguely recall falling asleep around 40 minutes into a Capra film, but when and how you’d nestled yourself against your flatmate was a mystery. Despite your instinct to jerk away, you remain still when you feel his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. Between the warmth of his skin on yours, and the soothing beat of his heart, you are soon lulled close to sleep once again. Until the sound of Cas’ low voice in your ear rouses you. “Are you awake?”  When you nod, he continues, “Is this okay?” You nod again, and quietly add, “This is wonderful.”

Having Castiel around was pleasant, if a little surreal. You’d always considered him a friend, but it wasn’t the same. Previously you’d only really been around each other on the hunt. Or if Cas was involved, more like stopping an apocalypse. Your relationship had been entirely based on proximity, and necessity. There was never really time to bond beyond that. Until now. 

You’d decided to attempt retirement a while ago. You’d found a job and started subletting a decent apartment from a friend of a friend, on the preface that they could still crash on the couch when travelling across country. The hunting trade was a small world after all. 

In fact, your new landlord was exactly who you’d expected to see when someone came knocking on your door in the middle of the night. Not a tired, bloodied, and bruised Angel. Confused, you’d let him in, patched his wounds, cleaned him up, and let him sleep it off in your bed. After almost 48 hours of continuous sleep, he’d explained everything to you, thanked you for your hospitality, and told you he’d be out of your hair soon. You’d assertively informed him that the only place he would be going is from your bed, to your couch. 

From there you easily fell into a routine together, effortlessly bonded over shared experiences, old and new. It was nice, seeing his toothbrush next to yours, bringing home his favourite takeout every Tuesday. When he worked the early shift, he’d always make you a coffee before he left, on the late shifts he’d bring home a bottle of your favourite. He did the dishes, and you did the laundry. You were a secure little domestic team.

The surrealness came when you realised just how much you enjoyed it. You welled up with pride whenever he complimented something you’d cooked him from scratch. Starting your morning in his presence calmed any nerves, and on stressful days, coming home to dinner and a film with Cas was your respite. 

You were confused by the bitterness you felt when he called you one night to say he would be home late, citing a date with his boss, Nora. You were truly sad, but relieved when he informed you he had misread the invitation. That he was actually there to babysit. That’s when it hit you. Somewhere along the way, in between all the household chores, and the late-night Hulu binging, you’d fallen for him. 

You’d always thought he was hot, ever since he’d introduced himself as ‘Castiel, an Angel of the Lord’ all those years ago. However, you no longer needed to accidentally catch him leaving the shower, or bending under a table to feel flushed. Ever since the figurative penny dropped, all it took was a smile, or the brush of your chests in a tight hall to make you blush. 

Thoughts of Castiel and your myriad of complex feelings now plagued you, particularly as you lay in bed at night, knowing he was only feet away from you, just on the other side of your paper-thin walls. Paper-thin walls that did nothing to protect you from the sudden and deafeningly loud sound of the TV at 2AM. 

Not bothering to throw on bottoms, you stumble to your bedroom door in just a camisole and panties. The sight of Cas sitting on the couch, clad in nothing but boxers, desperately fiddling with the remote in an attempt to turn down the volume greeted you upon entry to the living room. 

Upon noticing you, Cas drops the remote and hastily reaches for his discarded comforter to cover himself with. In turn you rotated your entire body, averting your gaze in favour of the wall, primarily to respect his privacy, secondarily to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry!” You blurt.

“It’s okay.” He responds quietly. “I’m sorry for the noise. I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“It’s okay.” You repeat back to him. “I was awake, I couldn’t sleep either. You just made me jump.” 

“You can look now.” He informs you. Hoping the dim light from the TV doesn’t reveal too much of the colour in your face, you spin back. He was now covered from the waist down, but you couldn’t help noticing his bare chest, particularly the definition between his pecs, and the sharpness of his collarbones.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it.” You say, trying to re-direct your eyes to any other part of the room. 

“Unless…” He gestures to the television. “Would you care to join me?” 

“Sure.” You answer hesitantly. You weren’t sleeping anyway, what was the worst that could happen?

Castiel smiles amiably at you before returning his attention to the remote. You linger in your spot as he begins flicking through the different apps. When he makes no effort to locate and put on trousers you slowly settle down next to him, careful to leave enough distance to prevent any accidental skin-on-skin contact. 

“So, what are we watching?” 

 ————-

You vaguely recall falling asleep around 40 minutes into a Capra film, but when and how you’d nestled yourself against your flatmate was a mystery. Despite your instinct to jerk away, you remain still when you feel his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. Between the warmth of his skin on yours, and the soothing beat of his heart, you are soon lulled close to sleep once again. Until the sound of Cas’ low voice in your ear rouses you. “Are you awake?” 

When you nod, he continues, “Is this okay?”

You nod again, and quietly add, “This is wonderful.”

You can’t see his expression from your current position, but he exhales, and you think he sounds relieved. 

It could be the scarcity of sleep, a ‘mind after midnight’ mirage, but this is when it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, he could be interested in you too. Why else would be lying beneath you, half-naked and seemingly completely at ease? Doubtful that you’d ever have this courage again you tilt your head up to look at him and ask; “Do you ever think about us?”

“I do.” He responds, he looks perplexed, which admittedly was his default expression.

“Do you ever think about us, as more than this?” When he doesn’t immediately answer, you resume. “You know, like romantically? Or even intimately?” 

“I frequently think of you amorously.” He speaks tentatively, each word spoken very deliberately. “When Metatron took my grace from me, I never imagined that this was how my life would go. Of course, I never thought that my grace would be taken, or that I would live among humans as one of them in the first place.”

He seems to take a moment to compile his thoughts, sucking his bottom lip in concentration. You remain silent. Hoping he can’t feel the rapid thrum of your heart.

“I thought at first that I was broken. The fall, losing my wings was bad enough, but now, without my angelic abilities, I can’t do anything. Well, nothing of merit, at least where the needs of humankind are concerned.”

“That’s not true.” You interject, you move to sit up, to be at eye level with him, but due to your already precarious position, the only way to do so is by shifting a leg over his lap, thus straddling him.

“I know that now.” He says as he grips your wrists and brings them to his shoulders, offering you extra support. “Without meaning to overstep, or make you uncomfortable, but living with- existing beside you has been a far more fulfilling experience than most of the things I have accomplished in the many billions of years I have existed.

I have very little practice in the ways of human sexuality, and even less so with courtship. However, I would be honoured, and extremely happy if you would allow me to explore such things, with you.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“If you will have me, I am yours.” 

There's a tense moment of silence between you both in which neither of you dare to break eye contact before you surge to him. You instigate the kiss, but Cas is fast to take control, his arms pull your body to him, driving your lips to press hard against his. When he rocks his hips up, kneading his semi-hard cock against your clothed core, you gasp. Cas immediately slips his tongue between your lips. You can’t hold back the groan that escapes you. His mouth tastes like coffee and artificial grape. You savour the feel and aroma of his lips before pulling back momentarily. 

“Only if I can be yours too.” You finally respond before he’s on you again. You freely open up for him, allowing him to explore your mouth once more. His tongue eagerly swirls against yours, exploring every crevice. His hands drop to clutch your waist, holding you in place as he ruts against you from below. 

It was you who broke the kiss again, locking your eyes with him as you climb off his lap. 

“Let me take care of you.” You chime as you drop to your knees on the floor below him. Cas quickly follows, sitting up straight, and planting his legs on either side of you. The comforter banished to the other end of the sofa.  

“You… You look so beautiful like that. On your knees.” He smiles down at you and reaches out to cup your face, strong fingers gently brush along your jaw before his thumb extends up to your lips. You press a kiss to its pad before parting your lips and taking him in. His skin tastes clean, with a hint of salt, and something florally. 

“Let me suck your cock.” You state, voice muffled by the pressure on your tongue.

His cheeks are tinted pink. You’re unsure if it's from arousal or nerves but he stands to pull off his boxers and settles back down. You can’t help but lick your lips when his cock is revealed, it's long and already hard. 

You don’t waste any time, immediately situating your tongue on the underside of his shaft and running it from tip to hilt. You stop momentarily to plant a kiss on his balls, before running back up his length. When you look back up Cas is watching you intensely, brow furrowed, lids heavy, lips between his teeth. You smile before wrapping your mouth around his cock. Pausing only slightly when you feel Cas cup the back of your head. 

You inch yourself down his length slowly, getting a feel for him, his thickness, and how much you can take at once. When you feel his tip hit the back of your throat, you pull back, before bobbing back down. The sound of Castiel’s’ hitched breathing drives you until you’re relaxed enough to take him completely. His thickness stretches your throat, making your eyes water, his pubic hair tickles your nose, and the look of bliss on his face makes your pussy drip. 

After a few seconds, you come back up for air, but the relief in your lungs only lasts a second before you feel Cas’ fists tighten against your scalp. 

“You look even better with my cock in your mouth.” He grunts as he pushes you back down. “You feel so good.”

Unable to respond, you hum your affirmation, drool escaping the corners of your mouth. Cas moans his approval, eyes and head lolling back for a moment before he plants his other hand firmly on the back of your head, holding you in place as he shifts to the edge of the couch and begins bucking his hips into your mouth. 

You plant your hands around his calves to steady yourself, and keep them out of the way as he continues to use your mouth. His thrusts grow heavier, his moans raspier, as you fight your need for air. Your cunt growing hotter, wetter every second, while your throat closes, and your head grows dizzy from the lack of air.

When he finally lets you go, your lungs are burning. You lean back, unable to control the wild rise and fall of your chest as you pant for air. Your lips feel sore, swollen, but your pussy aches. 

“I’m sorry.” Cas reaches over to cradle your face, tentatively brushing the tears from your eyes. “Was that too much?” 

“No! No not at all.” You whisper between breaths. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it. His head tilts to one side as he looks down at you sceptically. You smile back as you guide him between your legs. You brush his fingers against your panties, encouraging him to feel the wetness soaking through the fabric.

“I did that? I made you this wet?” He asks. When you nod his mouth cracks into a smile.

Within seconds he drops to his knees before you, pulling you in for another hot, open-mouthed kiss. Your tongues meet in another fierce, uncontrolled kiss. You cry out into his mouth when you feel his fingers press firmly against your clit, rubbing you through the thin fabric of your underwear.

Without warning Cas clutches onto your panties and pulls until the elastic snaps. He releases the offending article and quickly returns to your wetness. He strokes your clit repeatedly, swallowing your moans, holding you to his chest to prevent you from involuntarily withering away.

You break your lips away from his just long enough to plead; “Fuck me Cas, please fuck me with your fingers.”

He doesn’t hesitate to do as asked, immediately delving two fingers into your pussy. Once situated inside, he massages them against your walls, feeling you out and making you sputter. You grip his shoulders for support, digging your nails into his skin as he starts to thrust in and out of you.

“Like this?” He questions, you’re not sure if he’s being coy, if he’s teasing. Or if he truly is curious. Either way, you’re too gone to really answer. You open your mouth but all that comes out are a series of strangled whimpers. The feel of his thumb returning to your clit, gently brushing just the right spot, pushes you to breaking point. 

“I’m- I – ahhh.” You cry, trying to warn him. When you jerk your head back there is resistance. Cas releases his hold on your back, to grips your head forward. You peek up at him through half-lidded eyes, Cas stares, his blue eyes bare down on you, unblinking. If you weren’t already cumming, that would have been enough. 

You lean into Castiel’s body as you come back down, limp, and incoherent. A low hum escapes you as Cas languidly removes his fingers from inside you and brings them to his lips. You watch lazily as he gives them a tentative sniff before placing them in his mouth. His face seems to melt, and he closes his eyes, visibly savouring the taste. 

When he’s done, he grins at you and ponders aloud; “I’m not sure which is better.”

Still unable to string two words together you watch him, waiting for him to continue.

“The way you look when you reach orgasm, or the way you taste.” 

Instantly your cheeks begin to burn, and heat pools between your legs again. Without a second thought you reach down, grabbing your cami by the hem and lifting it over your head, your entire body now exposed to Castiel. 

He’s on you again in an instant. His mouth latches to one of your nipples, rapidly but lightly his tongue darts over the sensitive nip. Both hands come up to cup each breast. His fingers pinch and roll at your other exposed nipple. When you feel his teeth grazing the sensitive skin you flinch, fisting your hands into his hair. 

“Cas, please!” You gasp.

“Please what?” He responds, speech distorted by his refusal to remove his mouth from your body. 

“Please take me to bed.” You whine, needlessly pulling at his hair to garner his attention. “Please Castiel, take me to bed-”

You’re interrupted by the jolt of your body being lifted. Cas continues his oral assault, kissing, sucking, nipping at your neck as he carries you back to your bed. He sits himself on the edge of your bed and positions you to straddle him once again. You pull his attention back from your neck, sinking your lips onto his as you guide him down, until he’s lying face up.

You lean back and he sucks in a breath as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. You line him up at your entrance and he begins gradually rocking into you. You steadily sink down, the feel of his cock stretching you out making you shudder. Cas’s head rolls back, he bites his lip and grips your hips, barely fighting not to slam you down onto him.

When his cock is fully inside, you pull back up until only the tip remains inside before you drop back onto him.

With a loud moan, Cas engulfs your body with his own and flips you over. He holds you beneath him with the weight of his own body as he gives a few shallow, testing thrusts. Satisfied he begins building pace and force, until the sound of skin slapping against skin can be heard between ragged breaths and moans. You raise your lower body, trying to match his rhythm but his hands lock onto your hips and push them down, pinning you to the bed.

His lips are tight between his teeth, his brow furrowed, and his skin glows with a sheen of sweat. You can’t help but paw at his shoulders, bringing him down so you can plant kisses on his face and neck.

“Cas, fuck. Castiel that feels so good.” You praise.

In response, he catches your lips in a desperate kiss, all tongues and teeth and jumbled sounds that may once have been words. Your toes begin to curl, as your climax grows near. You lock your fingers in Castiel's hair, pulling his face away as you arch your back. Your eyes close tight as you chant his name.

“I love it when you moan my name.” He murmurs in your ear. He releases your hips, and grips your face, forcing it back up. Your eyes peek open as growls his next words. “Look at me, and don’t stop saying my name.”

At that, the tension in your cunt snaps. Your body jerks and your walls clench around him as you hit your climax. Castiel rides you through it, his strides slowing, but he continues fucking into you at a steady pace until he’s seemingly overcome by his own orgasm. His movements becoming laboured and erratic, he pants your name through gritted teeth as he spills his cum inside you.

You remain wrapped up in your position as you come down from your highs, the warmth of his breath tickles your neck, and your chests collide as you fight to catch your breath. Your mind races, trying to find the right thing to say next, not wanting to spoil your post-orgasm bliss. Eventually, you nudge his shoulder, and he moved away, allowing you to sit up. His cum seeps out of you as you do. Before you can make a move to clean it up Cas attains the tissues from your dresser and begins delicately wiping you down.

“Thank you.” You smile at him as he finishes and begins to clean himself up.

“I… ah.” He smiles back at you, still flushed from your activities. “I feel I should be the one thanking you.”

You laugh at the absurdity of his statement, especially after the performance he’d just given. Cas soon reciprocates your laughter. You stretch your arms out, inviting him back in for an embrace and he eagerly obliges, wrapping his arms around you and falling back against your mattress.

“Will you sleep in here, with me tonight?” Your eyes catch the clock on your bedside, and you note that it is almost sunrise. “Or, for the rest of the morning?”

He kisses your forehead and pulls you in close. “I would enjoy that very much.”

#human castiel/reader #castiel/reader #castiel fic #castiel reader insert #castiel #supernatural imagine #supernatural reader insert #smut #castiel smut #castiel x reader #gilverrwrites

[itsabouttimex2]

Here's a challenge: platonic x reader who hates monkeys with a passion (you could do it with phobia or irrational hatred). With Wukong, Macaque, and Mk.

Pithecophobia

Yandere MK, Sun Wukong, Macaque

(Fun fact 1- prunes are not their own fruit! They’re just dried plums.)

“I’m just saying,” he starts with a scoff, “it’s really silly that you’re expecting me to play along with this. Especially when I don’t get anything out of it.”

MK turns around to face the demon monkey, frowning. He folds his arms and walks backwards to keep eye contact, hoping that his mentor would watch his steps for him.

“Uh, you are getting something out of it, though? Y/N spent all day cooking for us so we could celebrate the new year together! They even made extra in case we wanted to bring someone else! That’s like… super nice of them!”

“Oh, I might get some maybe decent food, is that it? And all I’ve got to do is pretend to be a powerless mortal all the way through a probably mediocre dinner, huh? Just because this weird friend of yours is scared of monkeys?”

Sun Wukong; who had eyeing the sky for early fireworks more than he had been looking out for his student’s safety, finally chimed in. “To be fair, I think that mug of yours would scare anyone away!” A second later, he ducks down to avoid Macaque’s incoming tail, leaving MK to take the brunt of the relatively harmless blow.

MK stumbles backwards and almost into the street, only stopped when his mentor’s tail wraps around his waist and pulls him back onto the sidewalk. “Whoa,” the Great Sage mocks, setting MK safely back down, “someone’s in a bad mood today! Maybe… you’re just mad cause no one except us wanted you over for the new year?”

Macaque snarls and lunges at Wukong, ready to brawl. It’s only when MK swiftly moves to stand between them that the near fight is averted. “Guys, come on! Can’t you get along for just one day?!”

The “NO!” that they shout in perfect unison is just about what he was expecting, but he’s still a little disappointed about it. They both try to move past him to grab at one another, barely impeded by his physical position.

A thunderous bang echoes across the sky, a brilliant bloom of sparkling red painting the blue horizon. Macaque hisses and recoils, his arms quaking as he moves to clap his hands over his ears. At the exact same time, Wukong jumps up in delight, cheering and hollering at the sight. MK takes his chance to separate them, hooking his arm around Macaque’s, pulling the pained monkey demon along much quicker than he was moving before.

“Come on, come on! The food is gonna get cold if you two don’t hurry up! And! Y/N told me that there’s something special just for the two of you! Cause, y’know… when I asked if I could invite you both, they asked me what sort of stuff you liked, and I told ‘em about the whole ‘peaches and plums’ thing…”

Bringing up food seems to have been a decent enough distraction, as both of them choose to start moving along instead of fighting. Your house is already on the horizon. Now he just has to hope that another fight doesn’t break out between the rival demons.

As usual, life dashes his hopes of peace being anything more than a temporary lull.

“Yeah? Like how peaches are just about the best thing ever? And how everyone that isn’t crazy likes ‘em one way or another?”

“About how sweet-toothed meatheads can’t help but shovel them down whole? Those sort of people don’t have the brain to enjoy plums. Peaches are just sweet. Plums have a subtle astringent skin that mixes well with the flesh’s mellow sweetness.”

“Sure thing, old man. Go home and eat your prunes if ya like ‘em so much.”

“They are NOT-“

“Guys! We’re here!” Before they can argue any further, MK releases Macaque’s arm and rushes up to the door of your house. “Hurry up and come inside!”

He takes a moment to consider knocking, then grabs the doorknob and impatiently starts rattling it instead. To his delight, it’s already unlocked. A quick glance over his shoulder shows that both of his companions remain in their transformed state, tails safely tucked into their clothing.

He throws the door open and races inside, leaving the monkeys in the dust.

Just barely remembering to take off his shoes before he tears through the halls of your house without hesitation, he throws them aside near the door in a still-tied heap.

He follows a practiced path straight into the kitchen, finding you just as you remove a plate of pork-stuffed spring rolls from the oven. You set them down on the countertop to cool, then turn to face the very-expected intruder. You might’ve been surprised, if it wasn’t for his excited footsteps echoing through the house.

MK runs into your arms before you can even pull the oven mitts off, wrapping you up in a warm hug. For just a moment, it gives you the same feeling as coming home after a long day, cozy and inviting.

Then, his grip grows tight.

“I missed you,” he says, his voice quiet and low. “Invite me over more often. Or come to Pigsy’s and visit me, at least. Please.”

His grip tightens further.

And then he lets go of you, turning to face his two companions, neither of which you recognize. He waves them into the kitchen and moves to set the table.

Politely, you offer the first one your hand. He’s decked out in shining gold and exuberant red, like a brighter and flashier MK. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m glad you came to celebrate with me. Come and take a seat!”

He snags your hand between both of his own, giving it a firm pump. “It’s great to meet ya, bud! Thanks for having us!” He heads to the table and bounces on his heels, snatching up a seat for himself before anyone else gets the chance.

You smile and turn to MK’s other friend, the one dressed in a billowing black and red shroud that concealed most of his face and body. You offer him your hand as well.

He shrugs and walks right past you, sitting down at the opposite side of the table- probably to keep away from his colorful and loud companion.

MK frowns at his friend’s behavior, but turns back to you with a wide and rather forced smile. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just… not used to this.” His voice drops to a low whisper as he adds: “And his ears have been hurting all day. I think he’s getting grumpy.”

“I can hear you, kid,” the irritated man says from beneath his shroud. “There’s a reason that I’m called the S-”

“The SUPER SENSITIVE hearing guy, I know! The thing that all of your friends call you,” MK clumsily tries to lie, his ears and cheeks darkening to red with his poor attempt at deceiving you.

But before you can question him on it, his golden-clad friend pipes in with a snide: “He’s certainly sensitive, I’ll give him that.”

Outright chaos is only abated by the sharp click that sounds when you set a porcelain tray on the polished quartz surface of the table.

“MK told me about your favorite fruits, actually! So I stayed up late to make these for all of you,” you cheerily announce to the trio, lifting the delicate lid to reveal three plates of sticky-rice pudding. Each one is delicately drizzled with syrup sugar and studded in tiers with sweet fruits.

Your friend jumps forward, his palms hitting the table as he stares at you with wide-eyes. “Y/N! You made Eight Treasures Rice for us?!”

“Well, it’s more like ‘One Treasure Rice’, haha. It’s really only got the fruit in it, actually. I didn’t wanna put anything you guys didn’t like in there, so I decided to play it safe. I hope that’s not disappointing!”

“Not at all, bud! Not at all!” Several of his aureate accessories glint in the light as the man reaches eagerly for the peach-filled rice pudding.

You pass it to him with a smile, then give MK his own, stuffed full of tangerine slices. With only one left, you push the plum-packed dessert to the shrouded stranger, who seems to slightly brighten up at the sight of it.

Before anyone can say anything, you remove yourself from the table and hurry around the kitchen, gathering plates and utensils for the trio. You put them out quickly, then pile all the dishes you made in the morning onto the table.

“Good kid,” Wukong whispers to Macaque, picking bits of peach from the pudding as you arrange two plates of dumplings on the table. “And good food. Still regret coming, ‘Super Sensitive’?”

“…the kid’s alright. Jury’s still out on the food, though.” He pauses, taking a quick moment to think of something to criticize Wukong for. “And keep your tail under control. I can see the tip flicking back and forth in your pant leg.”

“Whatever you say, bud.”

A tray with a whole braised chicken is set between them, and a platter of steamed rice flour cakes after it. Finally, you take your own seat, next to the shrouded man and across from MK.

It strikes you then that you haven’t even learned the names of your guests.

“I’m Y/N, by the way! I’m sorry for not asking your names earlier! What should I call you?”

“The name’s Sun, bud! And that’s Mac, sitting in the edgy robe.”

“I like the robe,” you compliment politely, looking at the concealing garment. “The cloud embroidery is a nice touch.”

“It’s a cloak… and thanks.”

MK jumps forward in excitement and strikes his palms against the table, rattling the bowls and dishes.

“C‘mon! Let’s eat, everyone!

———————————————————————

“I think everything went well, today. You think so too, right?”

You set the knife down, turning to face ‘Sun’. As you cut up the leftovers, he’s sorting them into separate containers for everyone to take home. (And giving himself larger portions when you weren’t looking.)

“Definitely! I think my, uh… friend was pretty impressed. I hope we can do this again, Y/N! I don’t really have anything scheduled this time of year…like, ever.”

Except for watching fireworks from the top of his mountain, far away from company and civilization. Again and again, over and over, thinking only of his long-passed friends and companions.

“…we are going to do it again, right?”

“Oh, um, sure. I don’t see why not. My family doesn’t really come and visit, so I’ll probably have the house empty again next year. So, um… yes! I’d be happy to have you over!

He hums softly, nodding his head to your words.

“Sounds good, bud. I’ll be there. And… I’ll see if I can wrangle Mac into coming, too. Maybe just to see him jump at fireworks again, though.”

“He seemed interesting,” you graciously offer of the cloaked man, in spite of his admittedly poor behavior through dinner. “I enjoyed his stories.”

“Pfft! I could’ve told them better- I was there for most of them!”

“Well, the two of you should come again- MK seemed happy- more than usual, even. Honestly? I think he’s been stressed out lately… I’m glad he could have a day to relax. I really do need to visit him more often.”

“Huh. Guess it must be a little hard living so far from the city, bud. Any reason you’re this far out?”

“Oh, that’s… I inherited this house- and the orchard outside- from my parents, actually! I take a lot of pride in it, really. I wouldn’t trade it for the world, even if the work is a little lonely.”

“…I think I will come visit, then. And I might sample a few of your fruits, too,” he teases, lightly elbowing your side. “You think you can handle that, bud?”

“…you know what, Sun?” Sun, what he had informed you his name was. It fits him well. He’s bright and exuberant, and never stops smiling. He seems like he’d be a good friend.

“That- that sounds really nice. Come by anytime you’d like.”

Your words sound kind right now. They feel right to say. The Great Sage thinks so too.

And he’s certainly not going to forget about them. Neither will Macaque, listening in from the shadows beside your tangerine trees.

Why would they ever let go of this kindness?

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere MK #MK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque #Macaque #Monkiefam

[ghouljams]

Please Parental Figure, will Fae!König get a little kiss🥺

Oh you wanna kiss the nasty boy? Ok, one little kiss, but only because it's their first date.

König is standing on your front step, waiting, letting you finish up the last of your dinner conversation. Despite this not being a date it's been… kind of nice. He's good company.

Silence lapses between you. You've run out of things to tell him, but you don't really want to say goodbye yet. König reaches towards you and stops, hovering with a few inquisitive clicks.

"We're not in the shop, you can touch, just-" his fingers are so painfully gentle as they trace over your cheek, and along your jaw, "-behave." You breathe. His eyes linger on your lips, and you feel your brows draw together trying to- trying to…

There's a low comfortable purr rumbling in his chest, lulling you into something warm and fuzzy as he tips your head back.

You want to kiss him. The way he looks at you, the way he touches you, the way he fills your thoughts every waking moment, how could you not? You keep telling yourself that you can't want König the way you do, try to convince yourself that the way your stomach flips when you see him is fear and not desire, but- but he knows all that, you think. He lets you be prickly and unfriendly, let's you keep your defenses up because he knows you won't know how to act without them. He's so terribly patient with you.

You press up on your toes and twist your fingers in his shirt, hoping that's enough incentive for him to lean down and kiss you.

The problem is the hood. You don’t want to kiss his hood, you want to kiss the man underneath it. But every time you've thought about kissing him the idea of asking him to take the hood off has seemed insurmountable. It's felt like asking for a world of trust that you're not sure you should be afforded.

You shouldn't have been worried. As soon as your eyes shut you feel his lips against yours. He tips your head all the way back, giving himself room to lean down and kiss you like he's been dying to since he saw you. Something sweet and as natural as breathing. His teeth catch against your lip, and you make a muffled noise of pain before his tongue is soothing the ache. You open for him, feeling his thumb stroke your cheek encouragingly as you brush your tongue tentatively over his teeth. You're curious but careful to stay clear of their sharp points.

König doesn't seem worried, that deep rumble in his chest keeps dragging you further down into heavy bliss, your brain working overtime to keep you standing. Your limbs are heavy and slow from something other than cheap beer, and you let König take your weight as you lean against him. It feels like he's pumping you full of something heady and warm, a poison you'd never want to run from. His teeth are on your lip again, but the pain doesn't come back, just his tongue. All of him is so big and insistent, including his fingers as they wrap around something warm in your chest, something golden.

You blink your eyes open as he ducks down to mouth at your neck, he feels bigger, or maybe you feel smaller. You feel his mouth open and then hesitate, your chest labors around a breath, he thinks better of it and pulls back.

He stares down at you like- God you are too out of it for a decent metaphor but it's warm and hungry, and you think you can taste it on your tongue. He still has his hood on, did- no, it was off when he kissed you, right?

"Thank you for dinner, Liebling," he tells you quietly, and you feel your heart clench affectionately.

"Sure, any time." You murmur, letting him put you back in your entryway. He waits for you to close the door, and you lock it definitely, feeling the bind of his magic slide off of you as you do. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror on the back of your front closet, but even if you hadn't you would've felt it when the blood dripping from your lips finally fell on your shirt.

#hey remember how König wanted to know what her blood tasted like? i do #was going to have him literally shove his tongue down her throat but then i thought nah i cant make that fit narratively #i'll have him shove it somewhere else its fine #this is very sweet and not the nasty boy working any sort of magic on Liebling (lying) #fae!König #konig x reader #konig x you #konig mw2 #könig x you #könig x reader

[eldritch-spouse]

Krulu just subtly putting a piece of paper on the back of admins skirt that says "use me" and letting her go about her work unaware

[Fuck yeah, that's the shit.]

Guess who's bending you over first? Sybastian.

He's always the first to get into the break room at the start of a shift, so when he sees you walk in fresh with that note, he's being the opportunistic little shit he always is and bending you over the counter of that small kitchenette to stuff you with cock. You don't even know what's happening, but there's a sweet lulling mumur in the back of your mind telling you to let it happen and enjoy yourself. So you do.

By the time Grimbly walks in, Syb is close to finishing and only hurries up in case the bat's here to steal you from him. Naturally, the waiter's more than a bit scandalized, but he understands what's going on when he catches a flash of the note on your clothes. So, of course, he more than a little forcefully tugs the top of your outfit away so he can fondle your tits and go to town. He has the decency to apologize and smile sheepishly as he fucks himself between your breasts.

Eventually, news of what's happening spreads. And the first to hunt you down is obviously Santi. He's barelling through the floors and pumping out pheromones the moment he sees you, making the most out of the opportunity to fuck you stupid in front of clientele and make sure you're a drooling mess. He leaves sloppy kisses everywhere before letting you rest on the bar counter.

And Gallon picks you up swiftly, of course. You need a little break, how about he envelops you like a big warm blanket, and you don't have to think about anything for a while except how good it feels to have his cock and several tendrils inside you?

Fank-e's no fool, he's prying you out of Gallon with the force only a man of metal could sport. You get to hang off his head tubes while he grinds into you with an unshakable, merciless rhythm. When the video is saved, he lets you off with his cock detached, buzzing inside you.

Someway, somehow, you'll end up in Morell's kitchen, likely tugged inside when the cook sees you passing by. You don't even get to say a word, he's making you hang onto a bloody meat hook for dear life while he plows you from behind like he intends to put a child in you.

Your legs hurt by the time you make it to the shop, trying to actually get work done. Naturally, Nebul's more interested in making you model different toys for the clients currently present, including several ropes and tentacle toys. You get fingered nice and sweet for behaving.

Belo eventually catches you outside, and while he's upset that none of his coworkers are being decent to you, he guiltily begs for a quickie against the wall before fixing you up to the best of his ability.

Vinnel grabs you like a hawk. You're made to put on a stupid slutty and colorful dress, the note reattached to it, before he introduces you to his stage and audience. You leave bruised, cut, sore and coated in his strange black cum after he shoots a load on your face as the finishing act.

Patches eventually weasels you into his laboratory with gentle conversation, though once you're there, he uses vines to tie your ankles and wrists, taking advantage of you wriggling on the floor to drape over your body and fuck your sloppy hole, moaning about how gross it all is and how he doesn't mind being the last one because you look really cute and hot when you're totally disoriented and fuckdrunk.

You eventually manage to get yourself free and standing, trying to fix your mess of a look before heading to your Lord-Master's side. Krulu sits on his altar with a vaguely satisfied look of second-hand afterglow. You're praised heavily for your work thus far, but the higher claims you haven't dealt with everyone yet.

You understand what he's talking about when you're manually transported to the aquarium floor. And he tells you to come back after you've been to the garden as well.

Oh, the things you do for your savior.

#Krulu oc #Belo oc #Morell oc #Grimbly oc #Santi oc #Nebul oc #Vinnel oc #Patches oc #Sybastian oc #Fank-e oc #Magus oc #Glauk oc #Pebble oc #Beekeeper boie #Hellion oc

[jynxpsiche]

OMG SWEETENER IS AMAZING. Loved it. The way Tangerine would be such a good dad, oh man. I'm in love with him.

YES YES YES!! DAD!TANGERINE SUPREMACY🛐🛐

Sweet dreams

part of the “Sweetner” series

💌. Summary: sometimes it’s difficult to sleep when a child has nightmares, but fortunately Tangerine helps the baby in every way possible…

or

…when Tangerine shows how he’s daddy material.

💌. Warning: fluff, just tangerine being a dad, canon curses. I don’t know many British slangs. English is not my first language!

A gentle silence occupied the entire house, only downstairs could be heard the faint snore of Lemon, sleeping comfortably on the sofa.

The soft moonbeams illuminated the house, making it even more comfortable and reassuring. The cool summer breeze cooled the silent house.

The silence was sometimes interrupted by the rustling of the sheets, caused by the fairly warm night air.

Despite the coolness of the evening, the unique fairly warm air often returned for a visit.

The evening continued quietly. It was deep into the night and the occasional car could be heard on the street. Everything seemed so peaceful, like a paradise on earth.

But even the most beautiful things have an end. It was sudden, nobody expected it, but it happened. The heartrending cry of a child echoed through the house.

A small baby flailed frantically in its cradle, shaking the light blankets with its tiny legs. A groan from the nearest room instantly followed the continuous weeping.

A young couple slept in a room not far from the little one's, faint breaths echoed in the air but that little peace of night was interrupted by sudden crying.

The young woman in the king-size bed softly groaned, starting to move her legs between the sheets. Her hands lazily reached her eyes, trying to remove those traces of interrupted sleep.

She softly yawned and as she was about to get up from the comfortable bed, a strong but gentle hand grabbed her waist, dragging her body close to another.

Her hip made contact with the man's, his hand still clasped on her hip. Her eyes remained closed, but a sweet smile appeared on her relaxed face. Her face lit by the gentle moon.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of it” he gently mumbled, his moustache gently brushed her jaw. After leaving a sweet kiss on her forehead, he got out of bed, trying to make the least noise, even though he didn't have to worry about his brother downstairs, who was sleeping like a stone.

With quick steps he reached the nursery, where the baby's cries continued incessantly.

His figure paused only for a few moments in the doorway of the room, a small smile on his lips and his eyes soft at the sight of the child.

“Hey, it’s okay buddy…you don’t need to cry…” he gently cooed, picking the baby in his arms and lulling him slowly.

The little one, once picked up, ceased his crying, but a few cries of frustration still left his small mouth. His eyes watery and on his cheeks trails of salty tears now dried up.

Tangerine held the little one to his chest, stroking his back. His figure involuntarily began to rock from side to side, as if to simulate the movement of a cradle.

“There’s no reason to cry, little lad. Your daddy is here.”

Even though he knew that he was not actually his real father, he could not help but feel a deep connection with the child.

The idea of finding a partner, let alone starting a family, had never crossed his mind. But this change in his life had completely thrown him off balance.

He had never thought he could be a decent father, due to his messed-up childhood.

But that day... on that train...When his eyes rested on the helpless little thing, he had felt something change in him.

His expression always wrinkled when he thought of the child's biological father. How could he have abandoned a new mother and her child?

Child who was also his own flesh and blood.

A choked cry from the child awakened the man from his thoughts and brought his full attention back to the little one.

His body had not stopped moving, noticing how the child was slowly calming down.

Tangerine gently laid the infant's head on his chest, caressing it as gently as if it were made of glass.

It was strange how all his brutality left his body in an instant.

“Ya surely had a nightmare, didn’t you?” He whispered softly. His voice lulled him like a lullaby. A soft noise came from the baby and this pulled a smile on the man’s face.

His big, gentle hand caressed the baby’s hair. “I remember tha’ I always comforted ma brotha when he had a nightmare.” He explained, as if the child could fully understand what he was saying.

“After he always wanted ta watch that stupid cartoon. Said it made him happy.” Tangerine said, smiling softly at the memory.

He was always there for his brother and when he was younger he had always helped him through some difficulty or cheered him up when something bad happened.

And Tangerine could only behave in the same way with the child he held in his arms. “He's just waiting for ya to grow up a little more so he can finally watch that cartoon with you." He snickered with gusto.

His blue eyes rested on the little one in his arms and once again his face softened at the sight.

The child's deep breathing was audible, fortunately he was able to calm down and return to the world of dreams.

Gently Tangerine placed the little one back in his cot, trying to make as little noise as possible.

However, once he was placed on the soft mattress, the child began to fidget, as he missed the warm body of the adult.

A nasal giggle came from Tangerine, but his gaze remained enamoured at the sight of the little creature.

After sitting on a stool, he slipped his hand close to the child, who promptly grabbed one of his fingers, seeking comfort.

When he felt his small, fragile fingers around his hand, his heart tightened from the sweetness of the scene and he felt his body melt.

He had never been used to receiving much affection; the only one in his life had only ever been his brother's playful affection.

But this new addition to his life seemed like a dream, for he thought that never in his difficult and complicated life would he deserve a few moments of domesticity.

Usually, people like him, who kill without remorse, for a living and especially in truly brutal ways, did not deserve even a small amount of joy in their lives.

But Tangerine had been proved otherwise. And he could only be grateful for that.

“I’ll always protect ya, little one” he murmured, his eyes slowly closing in exhaustion.

After a few minutes, Tangerine's breathing was added to the quiet breathing of the child in the room.

The creaking of the wooden floor resounded through the house. Morning had come and the warm rays of sunlight were sneaking in through the cracks in the shutters.

It was still early, you didn't need a watch to tell, as silence still reigned outside.

Light, graceful footsteps quickly descended the stairs of the house. The woman had just woken up and, still slightly sleepy, she walked downstairs quickly, as if in search of something.

When she walked down the last step, her attention fell on the figure lying on the sofa. Light dyed hair peeped out from one end of the furniture and the girl's sleep-dulled mind identified the figure in an instant.

Lemon was still sound asleep, snoring lightly. He seemed to have entered a kind of lethargy.

Her brother had often mentioned to her how, of the two, Lemon was the one who slept the most.

And a sweet smile appeared on his face at the memory.

But if that was Lemon on the sofa, then where was Tangerine?

When he woke up, the other half of the bed, the one in which Tangerine slept, was empty and cold. This meant that he had not recently left the bed.

At first she thought that the twins had left for a new job and that she, due to being too tired, had not woken up to the boy's normal greeting: a soft kiss on the forehead.

Confused she returned upstairs, now left in the silent hallway. Where was he?

Dragging her feet, she headed still slightly sleepy towards her son's room. It was strange that the little one had not yet woken up.

Her feet creaked lightly on the cool parquet, a good contrast to the summer air.

When she reached the doorway her eyes widened in surprise, amazed as she could not believe her eyes.

Tangerine was sleeping blissfully on a small stool, placed beside the cradle.

His hand dangled inside it and the girl noticed a smaller hand clasping the man's fingers.

Without making a sound she approached the sleeping man, a sweet smile was present on her face.

Her hand passed gently through his unruly curls and then placed a light but loving kiss on his temple.

Then in a voice as sweet as honey she whispered gently:

“Good morning, my love.”

#bullet train 2022 #tangerine #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train #lemon bullet train #lemon x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader

[timidpumpkin]

Little Light (Stucky x reader)

Part 1: Found

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Summary: The first time you met Steve--or--the first time Steve found you.

Warnings for this part: Dark!Stucky, Female reader, Stalking, Reader has anxiety, Reader cries, Allusions that reader is a little, Allusions to kidnapping.

Warnings for future parts: Ddlg, Daddy!Stucky, Kidnapping, Forced age regression, Slapping, Anxiety, Panic attack, Slight dubcon, Stockholm Syndrome. (Will add more as needed)

Let me know if I missed any!!

Word count: 2.6k

Notes: Reader is in their 20s. There will be a few more parts to this as well as future writings within this universe! :) hehe. This is my first time ever posting a fic...please be kind...I am sensitive. Minors and ageless blogs DNI or I WILL block you.

It’s chilly. 

The night is abnormally quiet. Your ears have to adapt to the lack of sound. Bugs and frogs are no longer sounding off to the moon. The draft that bites its way up your nose is dry. It’s the first few indications that the trees will transform, stripping their colorful shields to brace themselves for the biting weather that's to come.

You huffed your way into your familiar abode, wishing it wasn’t so late. For the past, well, who knows how long, you had been working prolonged hours that certainly weren’t supposed to be a part of your daily work life. Nevertheless, it was, and you were tired–no, exhausted. 

Your head and stomach oh so kindly reminded you that it was in need of food, but when you make your way into the kitchen, nothing seems appetizing. Well, that wasn't exactly true. The truth was the idea of spending what little time you had left in the day making something that would only add the dishes, another chore, was dispiriting, to say the least.

So instead of meeting your basic needs, you were met with wet eyes that almost lull you into slumber. But before you're taken over by sleep, as you lay on your couch, your mind drifts to a time when things weren't as…hard.

Several months ago, or perhaps even close to a year when you think about it, you were in Washington DC. It was an academic trip, the last one for your last year. Of course, throughout your schooling, you had plenty of assignments to keep you occupied. Yet, trips like these made it much more than bearable–it was fun. Most of your time was spent exploring countless museums and exhibits tailored to define the world you lived in. Elation saturated your spirit as you and your closest friend, MJ, absorbed the new environment. 

Perhaps though, one of the most memorable parts of your trip was when you two snuck out late one night to grab a bite to eat. Your mischievous selves couldn't seem to be bothered by the fact that the city could be known for its more…eventful crime life.

The streets weren't nearly as crowded at this time of night. Still, the warm street lights and richly colored signs decorating local establishments left the perfect amount of people to create a steady hum of activity. After going back and forth between several different food options, you eventually found yourselves on a bench to eat your taco score of the night. You mumbled to each other through full mouths declaring over and over again how delicious it was and made plans to find something sweet afterward. You hummed in satisfaction when the urge hit you. 

You had to pee. Great. 

Where on earth could you find a decent bathroom around here?

“I’m gonna try to find a restroom,” you said, wiping food debris from your pants and standing from your seated position.

“Ha, good luck,” MJ jeered at you, mouth half full. “I’ll be here enjoying this then” she motioned to your leftovers.

“Yeah yeah,” you scanned around you before figuring a direction to try your luck at. “Well, I’ll be back soon if I don’t find anything.”

“Hey wait!” she blurted before you could take off too far. “Don't forget this,” you turn to see an outstretched hand holding your phone. “If you get kidnapped or something I'll need some way to find you,” she teased. “You know, so I don't get in trouble if you do.”

“How very thoughtful of you.” you rolled your eyes playfully taking it from her.

You roam around, one street to another until you finally happen by a small sandwich shop that, mercifully, lets you use their restroom. Once you depart from its doors, you realize you're not really sure where you are. At all. Every street and building looks like the other one and after walking for a bit, you’re pretty sure you’ve gone the wrong way. Where you find yourself now is darker. Few lights illuminate the path ahead, and you can’t shake the strange feeling that you’re being watched–despite not seeing a single soul. You can’t help but check behind you every so often, looking backwards over and over again until you're not even really looking forward at all anymore.

And that when your body hits it. Something hard stops your momentum completely and wobbles you off balance until you feel gentle but firm hands steadying your swaying form. You can’t help the gasp that escapes your throat. 

“Woah there,” the solid figure holding you speaks. You blink up at the deep voice. It’s a man. A large man. His grip eases off you and he holds his hands up, open-palmed. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” he appealed, a reassuring smile on his face. 

“Oh it’s-that's alright,” you try to regain your composure as you back up a step, making space between you and the stranger. “I suppose I should have looked where I was going” you breathed, trying not to sound so startled. “Sorry.” you posture yourself up finally getting a good look at the man in front of you. You can’t help but stare at him for–probably more than a few–awkward moments as you start to recognize his face. It’s one you saw only hours ago during your Smithsonian visit, specifically, the Captain America exhibit. Yep–you’re pretty sure that man looking back at you is Steve Rogers. 

Except, he looks different from the pictures and videos you’ve seen. He’s sporting a beard, and he really does look even bigger than you expected. Even with a few good feet between you, you still have to look up to him. And he’s looking at you too. Luckily, he breaks the silence, likely noticing your gob-smacked face. 

“Are you,” he looked you up and down quickly, assessing you. “lost?” he meets your eyes.

“Oh-uh-, no no, I’m-” you didn’t want to seem helpless, but when he raises his eyebrow at you, you quickly cave. “well yeah actually…I was trying to find my friend. I left her on a bench…somewhere.” you say looking around pointlessly, as if she’d somehow appear before you.

“Well,” he takes a tiny step towards you. “I’m sure I could help with that” he grins confidently at you. 

“Oh that’s okay,” you start. “I mean I don’t want to impose or anything.” You’re sure he has more important things on his agenda than to help some random girl find her friend. You felt like some lost kid looking for their parent in the grocery store.

“Not at all,” he says definitively. “come on.” He gestures for you to follow his lead. He asks you what you remembered about your surroundings when you left MJ. He seems to recognize the place you’re talking about immediately and starts guiding the way. On the walk there, you talk. Well–he talks, mostly. It’s not that you necessarily felt nervous in his presence. Rather, it just wasn't uncommon for you to be at a loss for words, especially with new people. The truth of the matter was, you just didn’t know what to say, it was often difficult for you in that way. In the way that you only felt comfortable around someone after a decent amount of time of knowing them. Regardless, what was uncommon was how comfortable you felt talking to him-or well-answering him when he spoke to you.

“You really should be more careful walking around alone like that.” he said, seriousness lacing his tone.

“Yeah,” you laugh guiltily, “after all, you never know what kinds of people you’ll run into.” you jab at him playfully and he gives you a laugh in return. He asks if you're new to the area, and you explain your presence as a result of a field trip. You tell him simple things, like what you study, and how you’re almost finished with school.

“You know what you want to do after you graduate?” he probes. You wish he hadn’t. You hated that question more than anything, and now it was coming from him. Nevertheless, you felt you could be honest. 

“I’m…not really sure” you look downwards, self-conscious of your answer.

“Hmm, I know what that’s like.” you peer up at him in disbelief. Sure, you didn’t know him at all really, but still, you couldn't help the short judgment that told you that wasn’t true.

“Really?”

“I know, I know” he chuckles, “hard to believe, right?” he glances at you, smirking as you continue to walk. “but it’s true. Maybe not exactly like your situation but…” he purses his lips “I know what it’s like to feel uncertain about your path.” You're slightly taken aback by his honesty, and it comforts you to know someone like him could feel the same doubts as you. 

Well, of course, you think. He is just a normal person–okay, superperson–after all. A person like any other. 

One with feelings, wants, and needs. 

You hum. “Did you ever figure it out?” he cocks his head at you. “You know, whatever you were unsure about?” he ceases his stroll and your legs automatically mimic his as you stand to face each other. Even at a respectable distance, he towers over you. It’s not just his height though, rather, his entire being, his build, is enormous. 

“I think I did,” he smiles at you “yeah,” you smile back and for the second time tonight, you’re staring, but again, he breaks the silence. “Is that your friend?” you turn to see MJ still seated where you left her looking as nonchalant as usual. You give Steve an affirmation and begin making your way to her. As you get closer you make out what appears to be a cup of ice cream in her hands.

“There you are. I’ve been worried sick.” she explains, taking in a spoonful. 

“I can tell.” you quip. 

“Was too! You never answered my texts” she wiggles her phone in front of you for emphasis. You don’t remember getting any texts. Then again, maybe you were too distracted to notice them.

“Oh, well, sorry, I kind of got lost. Luckily I ran into-” you look behind you wanting to show your friend who helped bring you here, only to see an empty street. Your brows furrow. 

“Ran into…” she peers in the direction you’re looking towards.

“Someone that helped,” you mumble mostly to yourself. She gives you a confused look. “I-I’ll explain when we get back to the room.” and you do.

You tell her about how he startled you at first but was quick to offer help. “Of course he’d offer to help, he’s a superhero.” MJ remarks during your retelling. She listens as you describe how easy it felt to converse with him, and how you wished you had only thanked him properly for helping you. Realistically, you’re not sure what would have happened had you not run into him–literally. 

That memory wasn’t one you thought of too often, to tell the truth, but it was one that reminded you of a simpler time. Yet, even then you remember being tired. Only now did it seem to catch up with you how much you had to do. It made even the simplest tasks feel like too much. You longed for a time when you didn’t have so much…responsibility. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

That night may have been the last time you saw Steve, but it certainly wasn’t the last time he saw you. 

He watched you that night, long before you even ran into him. He had been there for some mission, the importance of which he couldn’t remember. What he did remember though–your laugh. It chimed over the noise of the city around him, guiding him to your form where he was met with bright smiles as you giggled at something your friend said. There was something about you that drew him to you, and as the night went on, that something only grew stronger. He watched as you joked with your friend. He noticed your attentiveness to her, and those around you. How kind you were to anyone you interacted with, and how…silly you were for leaving your friend to go off by yourself. He knew then he had to keep watching, to make sure you remained safe. 

He was elated when you took that turn into the dark and empty street. It was the perfect opportunity to hear your voice–up close. 

And oh–how sweet you sounded.

Like how one would imagine a doe-eyed deer would sound. He reveled in how timid you were around him. How hard you tried to be courteous, mouth moving to form words, only for your lips to shut themselves. He truly thought it was adorable how you couldn't really look him in the eye, and when you did, you’d look away, often, with a bashful look.

Steve did see something in you that night–something he was missing. Once he realized it so, and dropped you off with your best friend, he knew he had to find his–Bucky.

Truthfully, he was more than just his best friend. They had been through so much, both together and separate. Both were thrown into treacherous waters more than once, living in unpredictable conditions, and exposed to the most atrocious of people. Though still, they had each other long before any of that. A friendship–a relationship–that knew no bounds–whether it be of time or situation. 

Steve knew Bucky would understand his fascination with you. They both had a lucid awareness of the wretched world they lived in. It wasn’t always that way, but time had proven it so over and over again. They could always rely on each other when everyone else seemed content with being against them. They knew the world still needed help, and they gave it, when and where they needed to. But nevertheless, in their eyes, everything was still tainted with darkness.

Except you. 

Over months, they observed you, studying you like there would be a test over every aspect of your being. Bucky thought you were even better than Steve had described. Beautiful, softhearted, and sweet. Yes, you truly were sweet. But in a way, too much so. He saw how nasty some people could be to you, only for you to return them with kind eyes and meek responses. He hated it. He adored you, and as time went on, it soon became clear that he didn’t want anyone to treat you in such a way.

They saw you working yourself to depletion every day. How you’d let dishes and laundry pile up. How poorly you ate, and how…clumsy you could be. Tripping over nothing after a long day, injuring yourself when actually attempting to make a meal. They knew what they needed to do. They knew what you needed. 

You needed them.

You needed them to take care of you.

Steve couldn’t bear to see you suffer like this, and Bucky knew they were the only people who could truly keep you shielded from the cold world around them. They would be your warmth, and you would be their little light. 

Yes, they could tell you needed them.

They could tell when you failed to do the simplest of things. 

They could tell when, every night, you’d grip your favorite stuffed animal in your arms.

They could tell when you were sure all the lights were out, your thumb would slowly slip its way behind your lips before you drifted to sleep.

Timing was everything. They had only been waiting for the perfect moment when everything was ready–including you. So when they saw you this night, curled up, tears staining the fabric beneath you as you fell asleep with an empty stomach, they knew it was the perfect time. 

#stucky x reader #dark!stucky x reader #soft!dark!stucky #soft!dark!stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky x reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky #stockholm syndrome #stucky x little!reader #dark!stucky x little!reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve rogers #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky barnes #dark fic #kidnapping #little!reader #Steve rogers fic #stucky fic #Bucky Barnes fic

[shares-a-vest]

@steddielovemonth Day 14: Love is... Being late to work because you can't ever say goodbye in a reasonable amount of time (Prompt by @sharpbutsoft)

wc: 1,278 | Rated: M (just to be safe, this one is a little spicer and more explicit than usual) | cw: None

Tags: Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Getting Together, Robin Buckley, Platonic Stobin, Running Late, Family Video

Note: Gosh I hope this one is Steddie enough seeing as Eddie is only here in Steve's spicy morning after thoughts...

'The Mysterious Case of the Broken Doorknob'

Steve groans when he reaches the front glass doors of Family Video and realises his best friend has already opened up. His face burns, not just from the morning sun reflecting off the store’s front windows – his shades really do nothing – as he thinks about the reason he is late.

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

His friend-turned-date-turned-overnight-boyfriend’s teasing words and wicked grin play over in his head like a fucking slot machine. Meanwhile, inside, Robin’s head shoots up from where she was glued to the computer, likely startled by the sound of him practically slamming into the front doors in haste.

“Where have you been!” she yells, her voice only slightly muffled by the glass between them.

Eddie, he thinks.

Eddie and the way he says (or doesn’t) say, ‘goodbye’ the morning after.

Eddie with that wild morning bed hair flicking every which way as he moved to blanket himself over Steve. His naked warmth enveloping Steve in a comfort that lulled him back into a half-sleep, his eyes only fluttering back open again as Eddie began to move, his hands roaming and carding through his chest hair.

Scratching his skin... Sinfully pitching his nipple, giggling when Steve squirmed under his touch...

Eddie's mouth joining the teasing... That mouth moving down... All the way down until a tongue playfully licked the tip of his –

“S-Sorry!” he splutters, ripping off his sunglasses when he finally gets the stupidly sticky door open.

He waves (or more, flails) a hand in Robin’s direction, avoiding his best friend’s burning gaze as he makes a beeline for the back office.

If he can just get to his shitty broken locker without any prying, he might manage to conjure up a decent enough excuse with regards to his tardiness.

Only this isn’t the first time Steve hasn’t quite made it in a reasonable amount of time because of escapades from the night before trickling into the morning after. Hell, most of the time he runs late for work the next day.

Plus, Robin knows Steve went on his first date with Eddie last night.

She knew they were going to Benny’s and that Steve had lined up precisely six separate make-out spots they could head off to afterwards.

Only, they didn’t even get that far.

They were about halfway through dinner when he and Eddie both agreed that after all this time, a full eight months after Spring Break, they should just throw away the playbook entirely.

“Wine and dine me later, sweetheart,” Eddie had joked, hopping out of the diner’s back corner booth and offering his hand.

The thing is, it didn’t exactly feel like a first date anyway.

Not after all that time. After hospital stays and visits. Not after healing and the awkwardness of Steve setting things right with Nancy. Not after he and Eddie at least began acknowledging that nagging something between them... Not after all the pining and flirting thereafter...

Not to mention all the meddling from everyone around them...

But this was different, he quickly decided as he discarded his burger – something he’d never willingly given up before.

With Eddie it is different…

So they went back to Steve’s house – something he promised himself he’d stop doing with ‘first dates’. He hastily parked the car on the drive, flicked on the inside entryway light and all but bolted up the stairs, hands interlocked with Eddie’s.

By the time they got to the upstairs hall, Eddie was ripping off his leather jacket and Steve was unbuckling his belt, all before they made it to his bedroom.

It was hot and rushed to begin with, as they both stripped down to nothing, pressing kisses to any piece of bare flesh they could get to before they lowered onto Steve’s bed.

And for once, Eddie didn’t make a quip about the checked bedspread and matching curtains. It might have been something like that, Eddie’s self-preserving snark falling away along with Steve’s uncharacteristic nervousness that turned it all soft, gentle and tender.

As they touched, skin to skin... Taking and giving as their bodies moved together... Kissing and licking as a sweaty heat grew between them... Moaning with no inhibitions and gasping into each other’s starved mouths...

Holding onto each other for dear life until they collapsed in a sweet haze, barely cleaned up but entirely sated.

Steve startles, brought back to reality by Robin’s big and quizzical knowing eyes looking back at him as she now blocks the office door.

“Spill!” she demands, poking him hard in the chest.

“Ouch – Rob... Scram!” he retorts, elbowing her in hopes she’ll move.

But she doesn’t. Instead, Robin clamps her hand down hard on the office doorknob at the exact time he does and they scuffle, grumbling and pushing and bickering unintelligible nonsense at each other –

Until the doorknob breaks clean off, the other half of it dropping to the floor on the other side of the door.

“Shit,” Steve curses, scrubbing a hand over his face while Robin is left gawking at one-half of the broken doorknob still firmly in her grasp.

“Okay… Well, know you have to tell me what happened,” Robin quips, “Or at least enough to spare some time while I think of what to do about this.”

Steve shrugs and settles for dumping his backpack by the door.

“I’ll just go to the hardware store in my lunch break.”

“A lunchbreak you think you are still entitled to seeing as you are…” Robin sucks in a breath and looks at her watch, “Almost an hour late!”

“Fine!” he relents, turning on the spot so he can all but collapse against the broken door with a hard thud.

“S-P-I-double-hockey-sticks, Dingus!” Robin repeats, her voice a whole octave higher as she plants herself square in front of him.

She begins tossing the broken doorknob expertly from hand to hand, the motion doing nothing to stop Steve’s head from spinning about everything last night – and this morning...

“Eddie and I barely made it through our date before went back to my house and boned, okay!” he admits, a hot rush creeping up his neck again.

He screws his eyes shut, trying desperately not to think about the sensation of Eddie’s pale skin against his.

His warm and soft flesh... His calloused fingers switching between deftly working and greedily exploring... The ridges and puckering of the scars that now litter Eddie’s body... The ones on his sides that match Steve’s own...

Eddie’s flushed and very nice – smooth…

“Whoa,” Robin says.

He feels the warning creak of the door as she joins him shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Yeah…” he sighs, “And then this morning Eddie gave me the best blowjob I have ever had and I didn’t want to leave – Rob, my brain feels like jello.”

“Huh...” Robin hums, pausing for a long moment, “Never took Munson for a Casanova in the bedroom – wait, no... I don’t want to think about his – ” she shudders, “No offence! Anyway, I would have covered for you.”

She knocks into his shoulder.

“Could’a told me that a few hours ago, Robs,” he quips, storing away the offer for the (hopefully, inevitable) next time.

Now at an angle – because the slightest bump is sending him off his axis in his current horny jello-brained state – Steve reaches into his back jeans pocket only to find it empty.

Fuck.

“What is it?” his best friend asks and Steve can just sense that Robin is frowning too.

“I forgot my wallet,” he dry-sobs.

“Steve!” Robin yells into his already-sensitive ear, “How in the hell are we going to pay to fix this door!”

#okay this one was A LOT different for me #*throws something mildly spicy at you and scurries back to my cave #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #family video 📼 #steddielovemonth #steddie fic #lily writes a fic

[perpetualcynicism]

…𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: In which you seek refuge in the shade on a particularly hot day at the Akademiya. …𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Fluff. …𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: None. …𝙻𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑: 2,781 words. …𝙰𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: Gender-neutral reader, scholar!Cyno.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝙱𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜.

If there was one word you could use to describe the weather right now, it would be sweltering.

The afternoon sun rode high amidst the cloudless expanse overhead, burning the sky a vivid blue. Its glare was almost as relentless as the heat it beat down towards the city below. Waves of heat rippled over street stones and horizon alike as though the air itself was trembling beneath the sun’s cruel assault. The streets themselves were near blinding to look at, reflected light blazing off white stone. 

The few folk in the streets moved sluggishly, clothes damp with sweat and hair clinging to skin tanned to the point of burning, though the wiser of Sumeru City’s residents had stayed indoors. A few stall vendors called half-heartedly here and there to the occasional passerby, voices layered thick with fatigue. From where you were sitting, about halfway up the Divine Tree, everyone seemed to look a lot like slow flies drunk on spilt snake wine, too heavy to fly. 

Truth be told, you wouldn’t be surprised if the Pyro Archon had declared war on you without you knowing.

Beneath the thick shadows cast by the branches of the Divine Tree, however, you were faring better than most. You were sat beside a small pond and leaning back on the Tree’s moss-dappled trunk. A veil of steam hung across the water’s surface, pale wreaths of evaporation rising from the pool and licking the lily pads bobbing above. The water cooled its surroundings, a little, and paired with the shade, made the heat a little more bearable. 

Nonetheless, you were still too hot for any real work; a notion which all the Akademiya students shared, judging by how many clusters of friends were milling aimlessly around the Akademiya facilities. In fact, there were so many that a dense crowd had gathered inside to escape the heatwave, meaning it was a choice of being crushed between bodies and noise or the crippling weather. You’d taken your chances with the latter, and the choice had proven to serve you decently well, so you weren’t complaining. 

Instead of studying, your nose was buried in a book you’d borrowed from the House of Daena beforehand. Though the atmosphere was pleasant for reading in— it was quiet out here, with only a few trilling insects or songbirds for company— the slow, dozy mood of the city and the stagnancy in the air was gradually taking effect, and you often found your mind drifting from the contents of your book. The pressing heat made your eyelids heavy, your head sink, your nose dip downwards. It took more and more effort to rein your attention back each time.

You yawned widely and blinked your eyes to keep them open. Perhaps your recent workload was finally catching up with you… Stifling another yawn, you returned to the book, skimming over the text and barely registering the words on the page. 

…And so, Shirin once again found the perfect opportunity for revenge in the vassal king's unfettered fear.

One night, she disguised herself as a divine princess of the temple to the moon goddess and met…

As your eyes glazed listlessly over the passage, you were distantly aware of your head beginning to loll and your eyelids draw shut. The words on the page morphed into meaningless shapes and figures behind your eye sockets. Your hand slid from the book, and you found yourself relaxing, limbs growing heavy, slipping into the drowsy lull of sleep…

A light tap on your shoulder. Your head snapped up (painfully fast; you heard a crack somewhere in your neck), and you rubbed your eyes to adjust to the sunlight, before realising it was being blocked by something— well, someone. Staring down at you coolly were a pair of pretty scarlet eyes, sharp as ever, yet not with hostility. A brush of snowy hair swept out from under a dark hood and over one eye, framing a smooth face of deeply tanned skin.

Despite yourself, you felt your heartbeat accelerate.

“You fell asleep,” Cyno explained, very helpfully.

“Oh.”

There was a short pause. You were definitely not admiring his eyelashes in the silence.

Then, “May I join you?”

A eyebrow rose up your forehead in mock suspicion. “You want to sleep with me?”

Those pretty scarlet eyes blinked at you, unamused. You sighed and rolled your eyes, jokingly grumbling, “You’re no fun,” but gestured for him to sit nonetheless. He lowered himself beside you, ignoring the comment entirely. Once he’d settled down, you remarked, “You know, I thought it’d take more than a little heat to bring down the mighty scholar Cyno from his studies.”

The boy shrugged. “I’ve already got through most of my workload for this term. I thought I may as well find you.”

You hummed. Even though you were close, he didn’t strike you as the type to chase the company of others. 

“Why me, though? Out of curiosity.”

He blinked, as though the answer was obvious. “I enjoy spending time with you.”

You coughed, eyebrows shooting up your forehead before you hastened to tame your expression. Cyno furrowed his eyebrows in a puzzled sort of concern. You waved away his worry and cleared your throat, deigning to avert his attention from your warming face.

“I’m surprised you didn’t get swarmed by your fan club on the way here.”

He turned to you, head tilted. “‘Fan club’?”

“You haven’t heard?” Cyno shook his head. You sucked in a breath. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, about half the Akademiya has the hots for you.”

“…Oh,” he frowned.

“And I think some people are literally starting an official fan club about you, too.”

His frown deepened to a grimace, and he repeated distastefully, “Oh.”

“So, tell me; what’s the life of a celebrity like?” you teased. Cyno side-eyed you, but the look in his eyes was one of humour.

“If what you’re saying is true, I don’t think I’ll enjoy it very much. Too many people lead to too much heat, after all; I think I’d need a real fan to keep both aspects at bay.”

You rubbed your forehead, exasperated. “Wow.”

“Thank you.”

Clearing your throat, you half-joked, “Would I be deemed worthy of such a role, by any chance?”

“I don’t know. Can you flap your hands fast enough to generate a breeze?”

“…I’ll get back to you on that part. But don’t worry: your fan club would still have to get through me first.” You placed a hand on your chest, hoping you were emulating some semblance of bravery. “I’ll fend off the fangirls if they get too stifling. And the fanboys. And… well, you know, everyone. Half the whole Akademiya, if need be.”

Cyno huffed a chuckle, and your heart did an involuntary somersault. It was always funny how your organs turned into acrobats when he was around. “As much as I appreciate your courage, I doubt you would last long against them if they amassed all their forces.” 

“Then I’ll fall loyally in battle, like a true warrior,” you proclaimed, voice laden with melodramatic flare. Cyno flicked your forehead lightly. 

“I’d rather not have to mourn you.”

A second silence settled over you as the jesting died away, filled by lazy birdsong. It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but you found yourself fiddling with the hem of your robes and throwing apprehensive glances towards the boy beside you nonetheless. His straight face betrayed nothing he might have been thinking. Even after knowing him for so long, Cyno was still far from easy to read. 

You thought about this, sometimes. His nonchalance. His straightforwardness. How matter-of-factly he could say such simple things and make your heart skip beat after beat. ‘I enjoy spending time with you.’ Said like it was the plainest thing in the world. 

In truth, though, it was far from plain. Glancing at him now, he seemed completely indifferent to your company, and yet claimed to hold it so closely to him. Was he overstating what he felt? Understating it? For the life of you, you couldn’t be certain.

(Maybe, somewhere deep down, you knew that made you fall even harder for him.)

The next time you looked to him, his eyes slid over to you, as if he’d anticipated the glance you were throwing at him. Your gazes met. Though you were still in the shade, it felt like the sun had just blasted your face with heat. You tried to tear your eyes away but found them locked in place. His stare dug into your own, cutting right through you and behind the curtain of feelings you wouldn’t let him see. The rubies of his irises were sharp as facets of the gemstone itself, cold and striking and… gentle. Prying, but never too deep; the shards not sharp enough that they would cut you. 

You hoped to the gods it wasn’t out of pity.

He knew. Of course he did.

Your tongue became lead in your mouth. Hiding your feelings from one as observant as him could never have ended well. An uneasy dread built in your gut, fears rising that he’d scorn you, or brush you off, or tell you that the company he enjoyed was that of a friend’s.

Knowing all he did, Cyno splintered the silence.

“By the way, what’re you reading?” 

You opened your mouth. Closed it again. Took took a second to steady your shock and reel back the spiralling thoughts you’d been drowning in moments before. 

To answer his question, you closed the book to display the front cover, which read in a curling font, ‘The Tale of Shiruyeh and Shirin: Volume II’. Cyno leaned slightly closer as he read it (his shoulder brushed yours now), and he made an ‘ah’ sound.

“I’ve read the first volume, but not the second. Is it any good?”

“Yeah, it is good, actually. I can give it to you once I’m done if you want to read it,” you offered. He dipped his head in silent thanks. 

“I would appreciate that.”

Re-opening the book to your page, you yawned widely, raising a hand over your mouth. You didn’t notice the way Cyno was studying you more closely, observing the faint shadows circling your eyes. He pressed his lips together in displeasure, almost unnoticeably. 

“You’re tired,” he said. “Why?” The undertone of concern in his voice ran so subtle that you didn’t even detect it. In fact, the question came across a touch brash, but it bothered you little; you’d long since grown used to the blunt manner of his speech.

“I haven’t been sleeping that well,” you admitted after a second’s pause, fiddling with the page of your book. “Y’know. Workload and that stuff. But it’s fine, so… yeah.”

Though Cyno hummed in understanding, the slight crease of his brows told of his concern. He knew you, and he knew what you were doing; understating that which was troubling you to brush off your struggles. It was a habit of yours he’d resolved long ago to try and change, but his attempts had yet to reap results. 

“If there is anything you need assistance with…” he prompted.

“Nah, it’s fine. I can handle it.” You glanced towards him. “Thanks for offering, though.”

He suppressed his sigh. “Very well.”

“Now, shh,” you hissed, pressing a finger to your lips, and pointedly gestured to your book. “I’m reading.” 

Cyno rolled his eyes, but complied nevertheless. While you read in silence, he looked towards you now and again. He didn’t know why, but there was something he found oddly endearing about the way you smiled or shook your head in response to whatever was happening in the text. Even more endearing was the slight lull of your head, dipping down and back up again as you fought with yourself to stay awake.

As he watched your continuous battle with sleep and heat (one you seemed to be slowly losing), part of him— perhaps a larger part than he’d like to admit— wished to soothe that drooping head into sleep and ease away the stubborn claim you made of ‘being fine’. 

It seemed that he wouldn’t have to wish for long, however, because a moment later, the former principle delivered itself right into his lap (or his shoulder, to be precise).

Book still lying open across your legs, your eyes had closed, quiet sighs passing through the slight opening of your mouth, finally surrendered to the rest you so needed. A mumble slipped past your lips and Cyno felt a weight on his shoulder as your head dropped by an inch, coming to lean against his collarbone.

His eyes widened by a fraction, breath caught in his throat. Warmth flushed across his neck. A thrill fluttered through his stomach. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, and he winced at the all-too-sudden dryness of his mouth. Could you hear his heartbeat? he wondered, painfully aware of the thundering inside his ribcage.

What did he do now? Stay in this position? No, your head was practically hanging from your shoulders; that couldn’t be pleasant. Should he pull you closer? But what if that woke you? Maybe… maybe he should adjust you slightly. So you were more comfortable. …Would you have been comfortable with this if you were awake? 

Forcing out a long breath, Cyno expelled the growing mountain of worries from his mind. Then, keeping his torso as still as possible (he was holding his breath all the while; he dared not breathe too deeply, lest he disturb you), he raised a tentative hand to your chin, carefully repositioned your head to rest against his shoulder. Once there, he held himself completely motionless for one second. Two. 

After a third, and after you hadn’t stirred, he finally permitted himself a sigh of relief— one which he released slowly, through his nose, keeping the fall of his chest as minute as possible. With his mission complete, Cyno glanced to you, and let his gaze linger there for a short while. 

He took in the curve of your eyelashes, the slope of your nose. The line of your jaw and the shape of your lips. The way your hair shifted slightly in the tug of the breeze, and the feeling of it tickling his jawbone. How peaceful you looked in your sleep. The beginnings of a smile started to melt across the boy’s features. Even a fool could see that the way he looked at you— with eyes so soft and gaze deep as oceans at sunset— was warmer than the blazing sky could ever hope to be.

He turned his eyes away. Even in sleep, you deserved your privacy.

A large group of students walked by across the garden then, their shoes scuffing the stone tiles as they practically dragged his feet across the sun-baked floor. Wary, Cyno watched them stop and look around. One student’s eyes drifted over to where he was sat to find the scholar staring back with a barbed glare. The student’s face lit up when he recognised the orange-red irises of his idol, calling the other’s attention to his discovery. It promptly fell when he noticed the person dozing beside him. 

The warning in Cyno’s eyes was clear: Don’t even try to come close.

Still, these students seemed to have some guts between them, and bunched tightly together, they shuffled towards your spot. Cyno’s eyes narrowed, all traces of warmth replaced with sharp, cool warning. The students tensed in turn as they felt scarlet crawling beneath their skin, scrutinising them, studying them, cutting like glass shards. Cyno stared each student down until they shivered despite the heat, shrank beneath the former’s gaze, and scurried swiftly away with their tails between their legs. 

Watching them go, Cyno felt a hint of smugness glow in his chest. So much for that fan club. Then, satisfied with his success, he turned his attention back to you, who still slumbered peacefully by his side. The thorns in his eyes fell away. He shifted slightly, movements gentle when he rested his head atop yours. A few locks of snowy hair fell from his hood and kissed your jaw, feather-light. One strand landed across your face and you wrinkled your nose, scrunching up your eyelids. He brushed the strand away, murmuring apology under his breath, trying to ignore the way his heart was threatening to melt at your reaction.

And, sitting in the shade on a sweltering day, succumbing to the drowsy mood and the unrelenting heat, Cyno closed his eyes and slept.

(It was safe to say that yes, he did indeed enjoy your company, and by quite a bit at that.)

#genshin impact x reader #cyno #cyno x reader

[guy-writes]

CBF!König x GN!Reader (Chapter Three)

Warnings: no pronouns but 'you', König has a name, implied physical punishment (on König)

On the first day of suspension, Alexander and you become closer.

Working on formatting + new blog (Hello!)

Age: 12

Memory Four

“Apologies”

You and Alexander were hanging out in front of your place, on the porch. You both were sitting side by side on the steps. Alexander – of course – put space between you two, not that you minded. He was bouncing his left leg and spacing out, while you were looking down and rolling a pebble under your shoe. You guys were actually having a decent conversation though it came to a lull.  

“How much trouble were you in for yesterday?” Alexander asked suddenly. It was the first day of being suspended, you had never been suspended before in your life but Alexander said this was his third time. 

“For the same reasons…” He explained earlier. This wasn’t his first time fighting with both Felix and Max. The only difference, he said, was that you were there, he didn’t elaborate if that was a good thing or not. You didn’t ask for much details considering he looked pretty fed up about it and you didn’t want him getting more irritated. 

You learned pretty fast he could get frustrated easily.

“I didn’t get into much trouble… Just a stern talking to, plus my dad made me finish that essay before I could do anything,” you finally spoke. You remember sitting in the kitchen all evening yesterday, staring at a blank piece of paper and remembering how dumb this punishment was. Sure, you could write an essay about why fighting with your classmates was bad and how you wouldn’t do it again…

But clearly that didn’t work, and the principle couldn’t care less. 

Alexander had actually told you this was his third time writing the essay, and he was pretty sure the principal didn’t even read them. He mentioned he wrote the same paper twice using the same exact words and it was never once mentioned. 

“Oh…” Alexander faltered, softly wringing his hands together. You finally noticed he had three angry red marks on the back of his hands. You knew those weren’t there yesterday when you last saw him… and once he noticed you staring at them, he hid his hands in his jacket pockets. He looked slightly uncomfortable now as he stared out into the sky. You decided to just leave him be and continued rolling a pebble under your shoe. Recently, it’s been getting very cold, but today wasn’t so bad. You could see the little puffs of air when Alexander breathed out, his nose and cheeks were pink though he didn’t seem to be cold. You remember in your very short conversations with him you asked what his favourite season was and he answered:

“Winter.”

Alexander never elaborated on why, but you supposed he didn’t need to… although you were still curious.

“You mentioned your favourite season was winter… Why is that?” You asked. He perked up slightly from whatever slump he was in, glancing over at you before nodding.

“Wow- You… remembered?... Well, I don’t know…” He started fumbling over his words, fidgeting with his sleeve, but he powered through. 

“I find winter to be very pretty, I like the lights that they put up around town, and I love playing in the snow… plus my family seems… happier,” he smiled, like he was remembering a fond memory. You smiled along with him, satisfied with that answer, though you couldn’t help but wonder what his last statement meant… but that was a question for another day. 

“Uh, what’s your favourite season?” He asked, he looked a bit flustered from talking your ear off. You smiled more at this, you were making progress. 

“Hm, definitely fall… The leaves always change into the prettiest oranges and yellows. The weather gets cooler and brings about a change that’s comforting and familiar- plus, it’s when people whip out the coolest sweaters I’ve ever seen,” you beamed, Alexander gave a shy smile at that, seemingly agreeing with you. He looked down at his boots, a slight frown making its way to his face as he thought over something. 

“Um… I just wanted to…” There was a sudden change in the conversation as Alexander pondered for a moment. He shifted slightly, frowning like this was the greatest challenge known to man- whatever that was. He looked out into the neighbourhood before he mustered up enough courage. 

“My sister mentioned I should probably apologise to you for how I acted on the first day… So, sorry for you know, getting mad at you… ᴮᵘᵗ ᶦᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵏᶦⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʳᵘᵉ,” He muttered out the last part. You rolled your eyes at that, but gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“That’s fine I guess…I just wanted to help a friend out-” you spoke before he interrupted.

“What-We’refriends?” He spoke so fast it took you a moment to process what he said.

“Uh, yeah… unless I assumed wrong?” You looked over at him, feeling embarrassed. Alexander was already looking at you with a wide eyed stare, then he squinted his eyes in suspicion. It was like he was studying you, to see if you were lying. When he didn’t seem to find anything, he nodded his head in approval. 

“...Okay… sure we can be… friends,” he seemed hesitant, making you think maybe he really didn’t want to be friends.

“Ah- we don’t have to be… You sound unsure, I don’t know, it’s fine." 

At this point, you were just trying not to feel hurt. 

“It’s not that! I just- well…” He hesitated with his words again.

“Maybe it will be weird… getting used to you… but,” he took a pause, sighing heavily and furrowing his brow. You were getting confused, was he not already used to your presence over the months you’ve been here?

“Ugh, okay all you need to know is that we are friends,” he looked fed up with where this conversation was going. 

“Alright…” was all you managed to say. The conversation ended there, on an awkward note. You weren’t satisfied with how it ended, Alexander was still so confusing. You looked up at the sky and saw the sun setting. Your dad tapped at the door, earning your attention before opening it, which you found weird… It's not like you were inside. 

“Hey, Alexander, your mom called and said to head home ‘cause it’s supper time,” your dad relayed Mrs. Lina’s message. Alexander nodded his head, standing up from his spot and brushed some dust away from his pants. He turned to look at you when he was at the gate. 

“Um, see you later?” He mumbled, he looked a little unsure, like you rejected him already. You gave him a reassuring nod and gave him a thumbs up. He perked up, waving at both you and your dad before meekly running off towards his house. You watched him go, and saw him disappear in the blue house. 

You’ve gained your first friend here, and hoped your friendship would last forever.

"Borderline" Masterlist

Words: 1152

Chapter Four (Coming soon)

Reblogs & comments divider by @reveriesources

#call of duty #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod x reader #konig cod #könig cod #könig x reader #könig #cbf!könig #konig x reader #konig mw2 #guy.writes #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2

[batsbratsandbarbedwire]

Eddie has always been meticulous about his things in a way Steve never was.

Hear me out. I see all the sloppy Eddie, unintentionally a mess, even smelly headcannons. But like, I grew up without money.

They're three days into the at home recovery leg of Eddie's healing, and Steve's finally gone out to get Eddie the second tooth brush he's been asking for.

Eddie had been resting his head back on the arm of the couch, and lulled it over to give Steve a sleepy grin when he saw the toothbrush.

"Such a sweetheart."

Steve might have scurried away, unsure how to handle all of that.

But when he came back later to ask Eddie what they wanted to do about dinner, he found Eddie with the new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste scrubbing at his reeboks in small, practiced circles.

"Upside Down gunk ain't no joke," Eddie said from the floor, where he was criss cross with his shoes in his lap.

He was a little out of breathe. Looked in pain.

"You might be better off with a new pair," Steve said from the doorway.

Eddie hummed a small, soft noise.

What did Steve even do with his Upside Down shoes?

Eddie kept scrubbing.

"You want help?" Steve asked.

Eddie shrugged. "S'okay."

And then Steve kept noticing it. The way Eddie kept a napkin tucked between his pinky and palm whenever he ate. The way the books Dustin brought him were always stacked in a neet little pile on the bedside table, biggest on the bottom.

He even folded the weatpants he slept in when he got dressed for the day.

Steve had taken to hiding his dirty laundry pile behind his closed closet doors in case Eddie ventured into his room.

A couple weeks later, when Eddie was up and moving around, Steve walked in on him pairing Steve's sock right out of the dryer.

"You don't have to do that," Steve said. "I kind of just toss 'em in the drawer."

Eddie tilted his head a little. "What if you lose one?"

"I mean, they're socks. You just get more every so often, right?"

Eddie's brows furrowed. He blinked and his tongue poked out to run across his bottom lip. His voice was almost a whisper when he spoke next. "Habit, I guess." But he grinned at Steve, a flashy sort of smile, and made a whole show of intricately pairing all the rest of the socks.

It wasn't until Eddie and Wayne had their new place and Steve was a little high, tucked into the center of Eddie's bed that he noticed the way Eddie's cassettes were all alphabetically stacked and his clothes were sort of color arranged in his closet that he started paying more attention.

Everything had a place. There were a few mini figures on the bookshelf, but they were artfully arranged like they were meant to be there. His Reeboks, the ones he just took off, the ones he'd scrubbed down with toothpaste at Steve's were in line neatly with his slippers by the door. His slippers that looks sort of flat worn.

Eddie didn't have a lot of stuff. His guitar was probably the most flashy thing in the room, but even the cassettes and books, there was only, like, a handful of each.

"You're so organized," Steve said. High and kind of filterless.

"Gotta love stuff while you got it," Eddie shrugged from his perch on the floor. And he said it kind of second nature, like he did whenever he was quoting some decent piece of knowledge he'd picked up from Wayne.

"Oh," Steve said, thinking of his shoebox of cassettes he never really paid much mind to. Some of them were out of their cases and they were all just tossed around. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, that makes sense."

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things headcanons #eddie munson headcanons #eddie is poor but appreciative #steve is used to nice things #eddie treats steve like a treasure because he appreciates the nice things he gets in life #convince me otherwise

[lilacwisps]

What do you think about doing jealous sex headcanons for the boys - Sebastian, Ominis and Garreth (female MC and in 7th year, of course) 👀💖

Of course, nonnie, here you are 💜 Jealousy is always so fun to write (under cut for obvious reasons, but overall not too explicit):

Sebastian: 

Sebastian gets jealous very easily - something as small as an errant smile directed at Amit or a playful comment in passing with Garreth is enough to make that familiar burning feeling uncoil in his chest.

It's not that he's threatened by them - or anyone - it's just that he doesn't think they deserve even a moment of MC's time.

Every time jealousy brings out his possessive, greedy side, making him yearn to become the center of MC's attention yet again. 

Luckily, he knows the surest way to do just that - and he's taking MC to his dorm room or the Undercroft (or the broom closet that one time) at the first opportunity. 

When Sebastian is jealous, sex with him is very intense. 

He litters MC's entire body with love bites - he usually leaves marks in places that clothes can easily cover, but when he's jealous, he makes sure to pay extra attention to her neck and shoulders - everyone needs to know that she's his. 

Sebastian has very impressive stamina, allowing him to go several rounds in a row, and usually, he's pretty good about letting MC rest in between her orgasms, but not when he's jealous - he keeps going until MC's an utter, dazed mess under him, desperately trying to catch her breath. 

"Mine, mine, mine," rings in his ears every time he pushes into her. 

Sebastian always finishes inside MC when he's jealous - something about it makes him feel like he's claiming her as his, inside and out.

If by the time his significant stamina runs out, he feels like he hasn't been thorough enough with MC, he does not hesitate to use his mouth and hands to get her to unravel completely. 

Once they are done, he spends some time marveling at his handiwork, taking sight of MC's dazed and flushed face, of the bright marks blooming on her neck, shoulders, and chest, of the utter mess they've made of the bed and sheets. 

"You are all mine, aren't you?" he whispers as he pulls MC close for a cuddle. 

"Do you even need to ask?"

Ominis: 

Ominis is not quite as jealous as Sebastian - it takes a little more than a smile or a friendly conversation with someone else to get Ominis to feel a pang of jealousy. 

Still, if MC starts to spend a lot of time with someone else - or worse, start gushing about someone else to him - Ominis is not immune to jealousy. 

Ominis can hide his jealousy decently well, but that shouldn't lull MC into the sense of false security - he's just waiting for a good moment to remind MC why he should be the only person on her mind. 

The next time he and MC have sex - it will turn into the most delightful kind of torture for her. 

Ominis is a decent student and a keen lover - and at this point in their relationship, he's figured out how to touch, taste, have MC exactly the way she likes. This also means he knows how to touch and taste and have MC in ways that are painfully, frustratingly close to what she wants - and stopping just short of it.

He spends hours teasing MC with his hands and mouth, building up to the moment, yet backing away at the very last second, until she's a whimpering mess under his lips, pleading for more, and he'll still draw the moment out as much as possible. 

It's not easy for him to deny her - not when she's so desperate, so needy for him, all flushed and disheveled, writhing under his tongue and touch. Normally, he would have given in already, but jealousy makes Ominis a little vicious.

"What is it you want, sweetheart? More? You'll need to be more specific than that."

The way she whimpers when she tells him what she wants and gasps when he does exactly that makes a dark, self-satisfied feeling bloom in Ominis's chest. He's the only one who can make her feel like this.<

He's gentle with her afterward, cradling her in his arms as they rest on his bed, so thoroughly exhausted and spent. 

"I wish we never had to leave this bed," MC says, "That'd be the happiest existence, staying here with you, my one and only."

 Ominis cannot help the self-satisfied smile that blooms upon his lips. That's right, your one and only.

Garreth: 

Garreth doesn't usually feel jealous - yet when he learns that MC's traveling with Sallow to Feldcroft, he cannot help the feeling blooming in his chest. 

"Garreth, what's wrong?" it seems MC has noticed something amiss, and perhaps, he shouldn't be surprised - he always wears his heart on his sleeve. 

"It's nothing, really," he mumbles, embarrassed. He knows his feeling is unfounded, and putting his thoughts into words is nigh mortifying, but she's looking at him expectantly, "It's just you and Sebastian..."

"Don't tell me you are jealous...Wait, you are! Oh, Garreth, I'm only going because Sebastian asked me to help search for a cure for his sister. I won't be long - with any luck, I should be back before tomorrow evening. But we aren't leaving for a few hours, and I'd thought you'd want to spend time together."

And he does, he really does - jealousy makes him desperate to remind MC that he's utterly, completely hers - mind, body, and soul - in the only way that comes to mind. 

He's gentle and sweet with her, showering MC's body with loving, ardent kisses as he slowly makes his way to the apex of her thighs. He wants to make her feel amazing - and if he gets to enjoy watching her unravel under his touch, well, who could blame him for that? 

Garreth's kissing, touching, tasting her just how she likes, savoring every gasp and whimper, reveling in how she writhes under his mouth. 

Before he knows it, he gets carried away - he hadn't intended to keep caressing MC with his hands and mouth after she'd found her release the first few times, but she looks so delightfully flushed and disheveled, pressing her hand over her mouth as she tries to stifle a moan that he cannot bring himself to stop. Not when it feels so good to be the one making MC feel that way.

When she pleads to feel him inside, Garreth's all too eager to oblige. Jealousy makes him a little rougher than he'd like to be with her, but when she grasps his shoulders and wraps her legs around him as he pushes in, he thinks that might not be a bad thing, after all. 

As they revel in the afterglow, Garreth savors the dazed look on MC's face as he gently kisses her forehead, "You are my one true love."

"And you are mine."

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x mc

[my-soupy-brain]

writing prompt: smoking weed with ted! ps i love what you write🩷

First off, thank you! That's so nice of you. And I'm here for this. He would be giggly, I bet. And up for...anything. Let's gooo!

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warnings: Drug use (marijuana), teasing, smut

---

You and Ted decided to lay low for the weekend. You had a weekend off together, finally.

And Coach Beard had hooked up some decent weed for you and Ted, in exchange for some rope he asked for. You were pretty sure you knew what he wanted it for, but you didn't want the details.

When Ted got home from work on Friday night, he was all smiles. He was just as eager to have a weekend in the house with you.

It was going to be rainy and chilly anyway. Nowhere to be, nowhere to go.

As you finished dinner and changed into cozy clothes for the night, you had prepared for the evening ahead. The couch was full of blankets and pillows. An assortment of music for the record player. Movies are out for the choosing.

And two meticulously rolled joints and an ashtray.

Ted didn't really know what to think. He was excited about this but nervous. He hasn't tried pot since college. He doesn't have a problem with it by any means, just never really got a chance to enjoy it again.

So when you offered a night in to have a puff and watch a movie, he agreed with an enthusiastic nod.

...

You both sat down on the couch, facing each other, grinning like a couple of lovestruck teenagers with the house to themselves.

The lights were low, and the music was on a low volume on the record player. When you sparked the first joint, Ted watched you inhale it slowly into your mouth, a light cough erupting on exhale.

Ted watched you and rubbed your back, making you smile. Even the littlest cough and he was taking care of you.

You nod as you pass it to him, a light stream of gray smoke from the end. "It's good. It's...damn good."

Ted smirks and takes the joint between his finger and thumb, holding it to his lips and taking a small inhale, having the same reaction. You rub his back and smile now.

You both take a beat to let it set in. You're lightweights - not regular users - and it doesn't take long for your heads to feel a little floaty.

You look over at Ted and he's slowly bobbing his head to the music, and you smile so wide your cheeks hurt. His eyes are a little droopy, just a smidge, and you reach over to grab his hand.

When he looks at you he smiles, pulling your arm to bring you closer to him. Another puff shared between the two of you and it's really just the right buzz to enjoy the environment and safety of each other's arms.

The high lulls you into a sing-songy feeling, humming to the music. Ted stands up and holds his hand out, offering you to take it while he grasps your right hand in his left, and puts his arm around your waist, dancing with you around the living room.

Giggling, laughter. More dancing. You're going with the flow, letting the feelings blend the night together in a haze of love and fun.

When you return to the couch, you take a sip of your wine and Ted holds your hand, his dreamy eyes blinking slowly at you.

"This feels good, hun," he says slowly, his drawl more apparent in his current state.

"Yeah? I'm glad. It's nice to unwind, huh?"

He nods.

"Can I kiss ya?" he asks, a little grin painted on his face, a big dimple in his cheek. You could eat him up, he's so sweet.

"Of course you can," you reply with enthusiasm, coming closer to kiss him.

What you thought would be a chaste peck on your cheek or lips turns into a full-on make-out session, your body laying over Ted's, his hands rubbing up under your shirt, over your ass, then cupping your face.

He groans low from his belly. "Ugh, feels so good," he moans, pulling away from your lips to breathe for a second. "Want you."

You look up at him and grin, a glint in your eye.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

You can't help but tease him a little bit, your hands dragging gently down his chest, making him growl a little.

"'Cause you're pretty," he murmurs. "And I wanna taste it."

Your heart jumps in your throat with that. Once Ted is in bed his dirty talk turns on, but he doesn't usually talk about this stuff so nonchalantly.

"What do you wanna taste, sweetheart?" you ask, climbing back up his chest and peppering him with kisses.

"You," he says again, falling into the cloud of desire with you. "I wanna taste it, and then I wanna feel it wrapped around me."

OK, enough messing around. He's turning you into a right mess on this sofa. Your hand tugs him up and into the bedroom. You take your clothes off quickly, and his hungry eyes take in every inch before pulling you to him by your hips, and backing you toward the bed.

His lips and mustache go to your neck, kissing and licking away.

"Y'taste good," Ted mumbles, laying you down on the bed.

You giggle at how he tickles, and he smiles with you, crawling over you, his hands pulling your shirt up, your hands working off his, too. Slowly and surely stripping off every piece of clothing that keeps you from each other until you're naked under the sheets.

Ted's arms rope around you, his big, hot hands holding you as he kisses you so intently, so passionately. You can't help but smile at how good you both feel.

When he rolls you to your back and kisses down your body, your breath starts to come in short gasps, and when he makes his way to your center, you practically combust.

His tongue is lazy but insistent. His arms and hands are wrapped around your thighs to keep your hips down, and he looks at you with so much adoration you could explode.

"Tastes s'good," he mumbles, his eyes looking up at you, then his nose bumping your clit just so.

Your back raises off the bed in one motion, your eyes rolling back as you cry out his name. The high, the pleasure, climbs through your body like a tingling vine, touching every nerve of your body.

"Just wait," he says to himself, his own hips humping lazily against the bed in a steady rhythm, the fingers of his left hand grazing you and sliding in. One, then two, then three.

"Good girl," he murmurs to you, kissing the insides of your thighs.

When your thighs twitch, he knows he's on the right track but pulls away just before you reach your crest.

"What are you..."

Before you can finish the thought, a hazy-eyed hazel-eyed Ted is looking down at you, sliding in inch by delicious inch.

"Ohhhhhh..." you moan, and Ted smiles.

"Yeah, that's it...there we go," he mumbles again, almost to himself. "Make ya feel good."

Your hands hold his face and pull him down to yours, your lips pressed together, tongues brushed together, hands touching everything you can reach.

It's slow and deep and passionate and fun. You tickle and laugh and smile and giggle, and eventually, you're whispering cute things to each other in your dreamy states.

Feels so good. You're so...soft. Your mustache tickles! Ted! Oh no, I'm ticklish there. Oh, but not there - that's nice...

When you refocus and your hips move faster, Ted tucks his face against your neck it's such a romantic thing but at this moment it pushes you closer to the edge. "Oh... God..." you murmur, your body tense...

Ted smiles and whispers: "Yeah? Good, sugar. Let it happen. Let's go together."

Your body prickles with nerves and once you start to moan, he's moaning with you, your body clenching around him, milking him in his last moments of pleasure.

He lays on top of your like a weighted blanket, smiling as he looks up at you. Your lips connect sweetly and you both nod to acknowledge, "Yeah, this was damn good."

When you stand to put on a robe, he asks where you're going.

"Be right back," you offer, winking, returning minutes later with a big slice of double-chocolate cake.

"What's this?" Ted asks, his eyes lighting up, his stomach growling.

"Made it today, knew we'd get the munchies."

Ted laughs as you pop back into bed, naked and under the covers, sharing a big piece of cake together.

"This is pwetty gweat," Ted says with his mouth full of chocolate, a little dab of frosting on his lip, making you lean forward to lick it off.

You can't help but laugh.

"It is pwetty gweat," you mock, and he giggles along with you.

Once you finish the cake and set the plate aside, you pop back under the covers, wrapped around each other while you watch a funny movie in the bedroom.

---

OK, I'm gonna need this to be reality, please and thank you. Chocolate cake is a sexy dessert too. I'll take no question, haha. thanks for this prompt, friend!

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso smut #ted lasso x you #ted lasso x weed

[itsabouttimex2]

hey 👋 could you please do more of platonic yandere hawks x teenage bartender reader pls ? :)) I love your work

(Aw, thank you! I’ll go back and tag this series as “Teenage Bartender” since I’ve got a few fics for it now)

Patronage

Out of all the people you’ve ever served, Mr. Takami is definitely your favorite patron. The League of Villains ranges from outright bad to somewhat decent when it comes to personality, each causing you trouble in their own way.

Mr. Bubaigawara is also pretty alright, but you have to cut him off after a while so he doesn’t drink himself to sickness. He’ll switch from thanking you for looking out for him to criticizing you for being a “mood-killer” in the same breath. You like to believe that the kinder half of him is the “real” one. It always feels more sincere, in your opinion. You try to see the good in everyone around you, after all. No matter how hard it may be, or how dangerous or depraved the individual is.

Maybe you’re an optimist, Keigo Takami thinks to himself, nursing a non-alcoholic strawberry spritzer. Or maybe you’re simply too naive to see the dangers of the killers and criminals around you. Maybe it’s a case of feeling obligated to love the unloved, to accept the spurned, to try and save those dedicated to hurling themselves headfirst towards irredeemability. Maybe you sympathize with them, with what they’ve been through in their tumultuous and checkered lives.

No matter what the reason is, what really matters is that you, in spite of whatever horrid circumstances have landed you in the middle of these villains, playing caretaker and maid and nanny to drunk, belligerent murderers…

You’re still kind.

That’s why Keigo truly believes that you, more than anyone else here, can be redeemed.

Not only because of the way you treat him, but also the way you treat your “coworkers”.

When Toga gets immediately drunk off of whatever cutesy cocktail she begged you to whip up, you help her get to a couch and make her lay down, leaving a bin by her side. When Shigaraki is having another one of his tantrums, you line up all the broken glasses and worn down equipment you have onto the countertop so he has something to focus his aggression on. You listen close to all of Spinner’s rants about Stain, even if you don’t understand a word he’s saying.

You see something in them, clearly. Keigo isn’t quite sure what it is exactly, but he’d love to know. Do you care about them? Do you think they could redeem themselves? Do you think you can off-put their suffering and bloodthirstiness by being kind? Do you consider them to be family? Do you consider him family?

You’ve been around him long enough to see him as a friend, surely. You treat the winged double-crosser with the same forthcoming kindness that everyone receives when they sit at your counter, ensuring that he’s happy, hydrated, warm, and not-

“-hurt? Mr. Takami, did you get hurt?”

“Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t quite catch that one. Run it by me again?”

“That mission ran a little long, didn’t it? Usually you’re back a lot sooner, so I wanted to make sure that you were alright, Mr. Takami. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Keigo is a well-guarded man. He doesn’t give away too much and he’s good at hiding his feelings and thoughts. Still, he can’t keep himself from smiling right now. With a gloved hand, he reaches out to ruffle your hair.

“Just fine, kiddo. Things got a little troublesome- when don’t things get troublesome, huh? But i got the job done no problem, like always.”

You try to meet his smile evenly, taking his drained glass and giving him a fresh drink in turn. There’s a moment of strange silence, something’s there’s never been between the two of you.

“I’m really glad,” you quietly admit to him, breaking the lull. “I think you’re… you’re the only one who talks to me the way you do. I don’t…”

He leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his twined fingers. “Talk to me, pint-size. You’ve got my ear. I’ve got some time to kill.” He adds the last line just to make sure that you know he won’t mind if this takes a while. Even if he didn’t have the time… he would make it, for you.

“I really, really do like everyone! Really, I do! But it just feels… it all feels so endless, Mr. Takami. If someone isn’t mad at me, they’re puking on the floor. If they aren’t puking, they’re crying in the corner. If they aren’t crying, they’re picking fights. If they’re not fighting, they’re breaking things. If they aren’t breaking things, they’re mad at me for something. It just goes on and on, and I- I just-“

You pause, your breath hitching inwards sharply as you bury your face into your hands. You put your palms flat on the countertop, staring at your weary reflection on the polished surface.

“I’m so tired, Mr. Takami. And I feel like I’m never gonna get to take a break.”

“Okay, come over here,” Keigo guides, leading you around the counter by your hand and towards where he remembers seeing you head each night. Your personal room, he assumes. “The bar,” you try to argue as he pulls you along, “needs me at the counter. What if someone comes by for a drink?” Your words fall on deaf ears, it seems. “Most of the league is made of grown men, kid. Trust me, they can stomach a few hours without alcohol.”

He opens the door, giving himself the first view of your room he’s ever seen.

Knowing that you can’t see the face he’s making, the undercover hero allows himself to frown at the sight.

This isn’t a bedroom. This is a storage closet with a small bed and a nightstand. It’s barely four feet wide, and just about six feet long. The sort of room you’d put spare brooms and mops in, where you’d hide away a half-used gallon of drain cleaner or spare dish soap bottles you had gotten on sale. A place too claustrophobic and enclosed for anything except supplies.

But instead, this room had been given to you, a literal teenager who was giving their all to support the League in spite of getting nothing out of it.

For just a moment, his blood boils.

The League can pretend to be good. They can pretend to be heroes and freedom fighters. They can pretend that they’re fighting for a fair and just society. They can pretend that they aren’t monsters and murderers.

But this is how they treat their own. He’s always known this. The League of Villains prioritizes powerful, dangerous individuals above all else, prioritizes those who can spread chaos and mayhem in the name of their destructive goal. And you don’t fit into that powerhouse category, so you get shuffled away, tucked out of sight when they don’t have you serving them or playing babysitter to grown drunkards.

Keigo thinks he understands it, at least. But the truth is that some of the League do care for you. Twice, Spinner, Magne, Toga, Mr. Compress… all of them do care about you, as a friend or as family. And in turn, you care for them.

But he doesn’t think of that. As he helps you into the cramped bed, he thinks of “saving” you, and getting you out of here. Of bringing you home and keeping you safe from the harms and horrors of the world around you.

And there will soon come a day that you tumble out of the villain’s claws and into a hero’s talons.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere MHA #Yandere Keigo Takami #Keigo Takami #Teenage Bartender

[owl-with-a-pen]

okay but another angsty thing re: Brainy and sleeping, what if he wakes up from a nap or something in the Tower soon after the season 5 finale and thinks he's still in that room with the radiation poisoning him (like maybe he has a nightmare about that), so someone has to calm him down and bring him back to reality

If the 3,000+ word count wasn't a dead giveaway, I had some fun with this one 😉

If Nia was certain of anything, it was that Brainy was going to crash real soon. He’d been looking pale ever since they’d returned from the Fortress, and there was no way in hell she could ignore the feverish heat that had prickled from his skin while her face had been buried so snugly against his throat. He hadn’t said anything then, but when they’d eventually picked themselves up from the lab’s floor, Brainy had been ready to drop long before they made it to the elevator. Without Nia's guiding hand, he never would have made it to the loft in one piece.

By the time they were hunkered down on a sofa in the Tower’s living nook, tablet balanced precariously between them, one of J’onn’s blankets folded over their knees, Brainy been close to passing out entirely. The only thing that stopped him was his relentless focus on the task at hand.

Every now and then, Nia caught his eyes as they worked a path across the data she’d been able to draw up from their borrowed intel downloaded from the Fortress’s supercomputer. It wasn’t much, but between the Tower, Legion and Kryptonian archive, they had a halfway decent snapshot of what the Phantom Zone might entail.

Finding Kara, though? That was the tricky part.

Nia’s heart hurt every time she thought about it – of Kara lost and alone in that place. She’d once described it to her as worse than hell. A terrifying purgatory where nightmares held a tangible presence.

No one had gone home that night. Nia lost track of Alex some point past midnight when Lena appeared with enough Big Belly Burger to feed a small army. Her best guess was that she’d retreated downstairs in the commotion to get first dibs on J’onn’s intergalactic coffee machine. They could’ve all used the kick right about now, and any other night Nia would’ve been shouldering her way to the front of the line.  

But coffee wasn’t going to cut it today. Besides, shoulder-to-shoulder with Brainy was exactly where she needed to stay. Maybe he hadn’t been eager to share anything out loud, but when he’d refused to eat any of Lena’s generous offerings, Nia had known what was up.

The nanites were starting to hit back. Hard.

She could survive without the caffeine, she rationalised. Maybe it was a good thing. She’d been doing pretty much anything to deny sleep for the last few months, hating herself whenever she slipped into a dream with Brainy as the centrepiece, goading her even in the deepest corners of her subconscious. She’d spent so long convincing herself that it was all in her head, that it was her grief and guilt that had conjured him up as her eternal tormenter. Knowing the truth of it still stung, an ache that went bone-deep, but that pain had started to ease the moment she’d locked her pinkie with his.

She wasn’t sure how easy she’d sleep now, but she knew that she couldn’t ignore the tug of the dream realm any longer. It was the only place she could figure any of this out, no matter how uncertain she felt. Besides, she wasn’t alone this time. She had Brainy back on her team, his promise to her as unbreakable as steel, and knowing that made everything feel just a little lighter.  

Nia wasn’t surprised when the words on the tablet began to blur into an incomprehensible muddle, the lull of her unconscious mind far too pressing of a force to refuse. Soon, she was lost to that darkness, pulled dizzyingly fast towards the threads of a dream already spun partway together.

Sometimes, her dreams came to her in quick successive flashes - other times they settled into specific locations, familiar or alien alike.

The room she awoke to was hazy, shimmering with rippling heat that rose in waves from the surface of the ground, enough that she couldn’t see a thing inside it. There was light, though, a deep orange spectacle that shone from somewhere close to the floor.

Before she could even try to understand where she was, pain like nothing she’d ever experienced erupted across her skin. It didn’t have a source, rather it radiated from all-round. It was a tangible pressure, raw and harsh, a laser point fixed solely on her that bypassed clothes and flesh alike, blistering straight to blood and bone. Her limbs felt like lead wherever it penetrated, targeting her joints until she folded with a swallowed scream to the floor. Nia’s chest held stiff, refusing to draw in the air she suddenly, desperately needed.

Because every breath burned - worse than the last - as though her lungs were lacerating inside her ribs. She gritted her teeth like she was biting down on leather, the sting of her tears sizzling to vapour before they even had a chance to fall.

What was this place her mind screamed, that too sounding warped and winded to her ears. Her dreams had certainly terrified her before, but they’d never hurt her like this. Like they could kill.

Nia gasped, gripping for her throat when the pressure of the air thickened inside her mouth, scalding her tongue. She could nearly taste it, bitter like battery acid, sharp like blood. Something about that taste was familiar to her, like when she’d overexerted her powers or…

No… there was something else. Because she had felt this before. Just for a second. Just before…

Before she’d been thrown from Leviathan’s ship.

Leviathan.

That didn’t make sense. If that was what her dream was trying to tell her, it’d missed the mark by a mile. The ship was gone – Leviathan along with it. No amount of pain could convince her otherwise. And if that was true, then there was nothing left of this dream that could hold a connection to the future.

How could her dream prophesise something that no longer existed?

Just as Nia had forced another breath through her bubbling lungs, bracing herself for the pain that would follow, she heard something. A sound that cut through the fog in her mind, that made everything suddenly so clear.

A soft, barely audible whimper from across the room.

Nia curled her hands into fists, jerking against the molten metal that greeted her knuckles, and looked up. Beyond the stifling power of Leviathan’s radiation, she could see the shape of a person pressed up against the console of the furthest edge of the room. She blinked against the stinging in her eyes, realising that the orange light she’d seen before had been coming from there. Now, that glow sharpened into something starker, closer matching the pale hair it illuminated – pasted against the jawline of a very familiar green face.

Nia’s eyes widened in shock, gasping his name.

Brainy sat with his knees drawn towards his chest, his body curved protectively around an object cradled closely to his centre. Even while she watched, Nia could see the spasmodic convulses of his chest as he tried to draw in breath, quickly followed by a barely muted cry of pain when the radiation crept in instead; his teeth an off-white smear fixed into permanent misery.

Nia’s heart twisted hard enough to outweigh her own pain. Because… it wasn’t her pain. It never had been. She’d never been inside the ship long enough to feel its true effect. None of them had.

None except…

Brainy. Of course this was Brainy’s dream. She wasn’t inside a vision at all. In her exhausted confusion, she must have slipped right into Brainy’s mind.

It was rare – rarer than rare, actually. But sometimes it could happen. If she and Brainy were tired enough, if they hadn’t been thinking, or even if they were thinking too much, then…

It hadn’t happened in so long, though. It couldn’t. They would have needed to share each other’s space, each other’s bed…

Now a new pain fluttered in her heart, an ache she thought she’d begun to remedy. But it had become such an old pain now, something that had fused itself to her after months of grief and frustration and anger.

In a way, this place was that and more. She’d never seen Brainy’s mind palace after he’d taken off the inhibitors, never experienced his dreams with his true self restored. And despite the heaviness of this place, the colours here were more vibrant, every light source so bright they could have been blinding. There was a sound beyond the buzz of the radiation, one that thrummed at the base of Nia's skull like old whispers, slipping in and out of audibility between every laboured pant of Brainy’s chest.

He looked like he had in the vision Nia had seen not a few hours earlier – when he’d collapsed to the ground after absorbing all that targeted radiation.

Ten minutes had already been too much for him, and those ten had turned into fifteen, twenty—it had taken Nia far too long to make it down there. And then, even after she’d found him, she hadn’t been quick enough, hadn’t had the power or natural immunity to drag him to safety.

It could have killed him. It should have. Nia’s dreams had been right to make her feel that way. This was to as near-death as she could have experienced without being in Brainy’s place.

And, for whatever reason, Brainy’ subconscious had decided to drag him right back here.

Now she was beginning to understand the rules of this dream, Nia realised that the radiation didn’t hold the same power over her. With a deep breath, she drew her shoulders together, pushing herself back onto her haunches. The radiation still barrelled at her, but now it held the potency of a soft breeze, nothing she couldn’t push past.

It wasn’t her pain, she reminded herself. And the more she thought that, the easier it became to ignore it. Soon she was back on her feet, crossing the room as easily as Kara or J’onn had made it look when they’d crashed inside.  

Nia didn’t stop walking until she was crouched at Brainy’s side. His chest was rising and falling in short, breathless exhales, too weak to draw in the air he needed. His head was tipped skyward, lips parted into a strained grimace.

At first, she wondered if this was some sort of punishment he'd conjured himself, a side-effect from all the guilt he’d been harbouring over the last few months.

That was until she realised what it was that he was holding so tightly in his arms, and how quickly he flinched away from her when she tried to reach for it herself.

“N-no,” Brainy whined, a panicked sound. He shook his head vehemently, curling even further into himself, obscuring the bottle from sight. The yellow hue it gave off was unmistakable, painting his face a sickly shade. His expression contorted again when more pain rolled through him, trails of salt staining his cheeks. “I-I can’t let go, I-I can’t let him win.”

“Brainy, it’s okay,” Nia said as gently as she could manage, sidling in closer to him. She kept her hands a practiced mark from the bottle, hovering steadfast. “You’re dreaming, okay? But I can help. Take my hand.”

Brainy whimpered, a strangled sound catching in his throat as fresh tears flooded his blood-stained eyes. “N-no,” he croaked. “Lex’ll – I can’t – or-or Kara will—”

Nia’s heart broke for him. This wasn’t about punishment; in his delirious state of mind, Brainy must have brought himself back to the moment just before Lex had stolen the bottle from him.

No matter what she’d told him back in the waking world, it hadn’t been enough to relieve him of his guilt. Not in the way he needed. But she knew this wasn’t going to help him, either.  The whispers in the air were as thick as the radiation shield itself, droning from every corner, warping into nothing but a mechanised garble.

He wasn’t going to go willingly, she knew that, and Nia was too afraid that taking him by force might make things worse.

Looked like she’d have to do things the old-fashioned way.

“I’ll see you on the other side, Wildcat,” Nia murmured, closing her eyes, losing sight of the prison Brainy had designed for himself as quickly as she’d entered.

Nia only felt a drifting impression of Brainy’s consciousness before she was back in the waking world. When she blinked her eyes open, she was inside the Tower again, with the real Brainy pressed tightly to her side.

His golden hair was slick to his forehead with sweat, his eyes skirting uncertainly behind closed lids as he muttered fretfully in his sleep. Some of the words were English, others held the mechanised characteristics of fluent Coluan. There was another language, too, one that overlapped the others, far separate from anything she’d heard him speak before.

She recognised it though, the ancient consonants that rolled from his tongue even while he was under such duress. It was the same language he’d spoken with Rama Khan. The language of the gods.

He was still bartering with Leviathan somewhere deep down, trying in his own way to fix his mistakes. But his pleas fell on deaf ears. All ears, but hers.

Suddenly, Brainy whimpered again, a sob catching him so hard that Nia worried he’d choke. He clawed at her front with weak fingers, lashes fluttering beneath layers of delirium.

She knew she had to wake him, but it was still a delicate procedure even outside of the dream realm. Carefully, Nia wound her arm around Brainy’s back, clutching the fibres of his suit, securing him against her side as she ran her free hand over his chest. Brainy didn’t fight her, instead he buried his nose into her throat, his clammy skin cold and fervid at the same time. She could feel the sting of his life projectors even from a distance, prickling across her gloves as she searched for his frequency, bringing it into step with her own.

Usually, once she’d found a target, that’d be her cue to drag them into a sleep they’d have a hell of a time coming back from. Now, she sought that power in reverse, pulling back on her usual gift so that she could dispel a dream sequence rather than enforce it. Blue energy swirled from Nia’s fingertips, coalescing with the white of Brainy’s central projector, knocking on the fragile door of his unconscious mind.

When that door creaked open, she let her energy soar, illuminating all that had been buried so that it might rise to the surface unimpeded.

She felt the tug of his consciousness before he woke, and when Brainy shot forward in the confusion that followed, Nia was there to steady him, pressing her hand reassuringly into his centre, trying to draw in on the pleasant fog that often accompanied a nap post-waking.

But peace like that couldn’t be manufactured.  

“N-n-no—” Brainy gasped, choking hard enough that it induced a coughing fit so violent he nearly retched from the strain.

Nia held him steady, worried that he was about to make himself sick. She rubbed his back, soothing him with breathless reassurances while simultaneously mapping out the closest trash can in case she needed to make an emergency dive for it.

“It’s okay,” she said, a gentle murmur in his ear. “It was just a nightmare, Brainy. You’re safe.”

But even as she said it, she couldn’t be sure that it was true. The sweat on Brainy’s brow wasn’t just a result of his nightmare. As Nia rocked in time with him, she could feel his body convulse against her with shudders that he was powerless to quell. He was burning up, his eyes glazed and fever stricken.

He was sick. Sicker than she’d ever seen him, and there was nothing she could do to take that pain away.

She felt useless.

Then, miraculously, Nia heard a creak on the floorboards and suddenly Alex’s head popped into view. Her eyes held an exhaustion that went way beyond the physical, but just seeing her made the knot in Nia’s stomach loosen. Nia shifted Brainy’s weight in her arms, holding him tightly as the coughing fit finally abated and he slouched with a groan into her shoulder. She desperately wanted to warm him with her energy, but that probably wasn’t the right call when he was already burning like a furnace against her side.

“Hey, hey, I heard the commotion,” Alex said, her expression serious as she took stock of the situation. Habitually, she rolled up her sleeves. “What happened?”

“He had a nightmare,” Nia said, trying to sound stronger than she felt. “I barely got him out of there. He was dreaming of Leviathan’s ship again, of being trapped in that room—”

Alex sighed before Nia had even finished talking, leaning heavily into the arm of the sofa. “I was afraid this might happen,” she admitted. Her eyes flickered back to Brainy sympathetically. “He’s put up a good fight so far, but that radiation did a number on him. Whether he likes it or not, those nanites are going to have to run their course.” She pressed her hand to the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. “Damnit. I shouldn’t’ve called him to the Fortress. I just got desperate. I-I thought that maybe he could reverse the projector if we did it fast enough. That Kara—”

Her voice warbled over her sister’s name and Nia immediately reached out to take Alex’s arm, meeting her eye firmly. “Don’t blame yourself,” she said. “You and I both know he would’ve come either way.” Nia was forced to let go of Alex when a particularly harsh shudder ran down Brainy’s spine, all but immobilising him. He tensed against her before groaning out, wrapping his arms tightly around his front, obscuring the wavering flicker of his central projector.

When he was able to open his eyes again, he saw Nia first. “N-Nia?” he croaked, his voice so stricken it hurt. He shook his head, barely able to articulate himself. “You c-can’t be here—t-the radiation.”

“Hey, hey,” Nia soothed, taking his face, running her nails beneath his jaw. She drew his eyes up to meet hers. He felt so delicate in her grasp, as fragile as cracked glass. “It was just a nightmare. We’re at the Tower, remember?”

Brainy bared his teeth, his dark eyes flashing with fresh tears. He ducked his chin into her cupped palm. “B-but it hurts.”

“Oh honey, I know,” Nia said, her own eyes stinging as she let Brainy fold fully against her. His pulse raged in his forehead, beating an obscure pattern into the base of her throat. He was crying again, his tears dousing the collar of her suit, but even that was too taxing on him now. He’d slip back into restless sleep sooner or later, whether that would be better for him had yet to be proven. She looked up at Alex desperately. “Can we give him another dose of those nanites? Maybe that’ll—”

But Alex was already shaking her head. “They’re doing their job,” she said. “I know it looks rough, and it is, but I promise he’s healing, Nia. He just has to ride this out.”

Nia closed her eyes, pressing her cheek into his damp hair. “He’s in so much pain.”

“I know,” Alex said softly. She sighed, crouching down so that she could run the back of her hand against Brainy's cheek. When he didn't stir, she stood, jerking her head towards the elevator. “Look, I’m gonna get Lena’s portal watch from downstairs. It’s the quickest way to get him home so that he can sleep this off safely.”

Nia could only nod. It didn’t feel like she was even fully there anymore. A part of her consciousness had tied itself far too deeply with Brainy’s pain, maybe from the moment she’d first slipped into his nightmare.

She hardly heard Alex when she asked, “One last thing; do you know where he’s calling home these days?”

Despite that, she didn’t hesitate. “My apartment,” Nia said, wiping the tears from her eyes in an automatic gesture. She sobered as she stared at the moisture on her fingers, for a second unsure whether it had come from her face or Brainy’s. She glanced up again. “He’ll be safe there,” she explained, before hastening to add, “besides, I can’t leave him alone like this.”

Alex’s expression was warm. She glanced between Brainy and Nia knowingly, an eyebrow half raised. “Are you two…?”

“We’re figuring things out,” Nia said. As if on cue, Brainy made a soft sound against her, desperately nuzzling into her throat, a crackly hum easing from his chest. His breath was hot and welcoming, his lips brushing her skin without being fully conscious of the act. Even still, Nia felt her face warm.

“Looks like it’s going well,” Alex noted with a smirk. It was the first time Nia had seen her smile since they’d lost Kara. It was a tired smile, sure, but if nothing else, she was glad she could offer Alex at least that. Even if it did come at her own expense.

Alex winked before she turned away. “I’ll get the watch.”

“Thank you.”

Nia waited for Alex nervously, her fingers tugging gently through Brainy’s sweat soaked hair. When his eyes fluttered open again and he found her so instinctively, she kissed his forehead, letting her lips linger on his clammy skin. He tasted of salt and metal.

“Hold on, Wildcat,” she murmured. “You’ll be home soon.”

Home. The word had come out so easily, but the moment she said it, she knew it was the truth. She didn’t want Brainy anywhere else. Not tonight, not ever again. And as he sagged gratefully into her embrace, lowering his head with the barest hint of acknowledgement, she knew that he felt the same.

#supergirl #supergirl fanfiction #nia nal #brainiac 5 #brainia #alex danvers #querl dox #whump #sickfic #my writing #my asks #anon #you asked for angst and i delivered. i love trying to expand on how brainy was feeling in 6x01 seeing as the show didn't #and i am a sucker for some hurt/comfort #so hope you enjoy!

[yeongwonie]

way home

park sunghoon x f!reader prom, late night drives, confession (1.4k)

✶ i love driving so much so gas prices rn are Killing me bcs i'm the type of person to just go on drives for fun ㅠㅠ this is my way of coping ...

sunghoon drives you home. looking at him from the passenger seat, you wonder if this is the night something will finally change.

in the dim light of passing streetlamps and other cars, you can only faintly make out the outline of his profile, posture upright and shoulders slightly stiffened as he grips the wheel. a silhouetted hand raises to cover a yawn, and you realize you’re facing a similar struggle with keeping your eyes open. 

the sequins lining the bodice of your dress scratch uncomfortably against your arms, and there’s a lingering ache dispersed through your entire body. still, the faint music playing softly through sunghoon’s slightly brassy-sounding speakers is nearly enough to lull you to sleep. and, though you’d never say it to his face, sunghoon is at the very least a decent driver, making no harsh stops that would disturb your rest. 

the calm that settles over the car gives you time to agonize the evening’s events. how you’d spend possibly the worst 20 seconds of your life in the center of a dance circle. how you’d danced for nearly half an hour with sunghoon’s hands rested just above your hips. how, when you’d sat down to rest your legs, he’d claimed the seat next to you, leaning in just a little too close to ask if you needed water. 

the thought brings a flush to your cheeks and the tips of your ears, and your fingers fidget absently with the ribbon of the corsage tied delicately around your wrist. 

“how do you feel?” he asks, voice just barely audible over the music. there’s a hint of eagerness in his tone, and even in the darkness you don’t miss the way his lips curve into a faint smile. 

“good,” you say. “just really tired.”

“me too,” he hums, reaching over to press a button on the console and skip a song. “i might sleep for an entire day after this.”

you nod. “i think that was the most i’ve danced in my entire life.”

“aren’t you glad you chose me to be your date?” he grins. 

“it wasn’t really much of a choice,” you answer. almost immediately, you regret saying so, your comment seems to bring about a drop in the car’s temperature that makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. 

“you could’ve said no,” he remarks softly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“why would i?” you ask after a pause. sunghoon’s gaze flickers back and forth between the road and you, as though he’s searching for something. 

“i don’t know,” he sighs, and just like that, the conversation ends. 

you thrum your fingers lightly against your leg. carefully, your eyes follow the little blue indicator on the map cast on sunghoon’s phone propped up against the ashtray. each centimeter that the marker moves closer to your house is another moment that’s slipped through your fingers, wasted in silence. 

you force yourself to speak as you watch the car approach your house. the navigation system reads that you’ve arrived, and your teeth tug softly at your bottom lip. 

“i wanted to go with you,” you mumble, fingers curling around the fabric laying atop your thigh. “really.”

“i did, too.” one hand slides down the wheel, as he slows the car to a stop. “that’s why i asked you.”

sunghoon glances over to make sure he’s pulled close enough to the curb, then shifts to face you. he turns the volume down until the song is a faint murmur in the background, and in the silence that remains, your ears ring in memory of the crowded ballroom and the pulsing music. 

for a breath, he sits and observes you, lips parted slightly, like the words are forcing their way out of his chest. 

“did you have a good time?” he asks, just above a whisper.

“i did.” you turn and have to steel your nerves to keep from breaking eye contact. “thank you.”

again, there’s a prolonged pause. the longer sunghoon looks at you, the more you can feel an imaginary weight pressing down on your chest and making you short of breath. after the noise, this moment feels so quiet, almost unbearably so, and yet you still can’t bring yourself to say anything. 

“good,” sunghoon exhales after a few more seconds. he turns off the engine and grabs his car keys. after taking a breath in, he opens the door and climbs out of the car. a little stunned, it takes you a few seconds to follow suit. 

in the time it takes you to bend down and grab your discarded heels from the floor, he jogs around the front of the car and manages to open the door for you. with a tight-lipped smile, he gestures for you to exit, and you laugh as you roll your eyes.

a little shakily, you walk up to your front porch, sunghoon trailing a few steps behind you. 

as you stand there in front of your door, pausing before you enter your house and the night truly comes to an end, you look up at the sky. almost immediately, your eyes catch on the moon, though it’s not full or particularly bright. sunghoon, standing next to you, follows your gaze. 

“if we ever go to another one of these,” he muses, “you should let me take you again.”

“when would we go, though?” you run a hand through your hair, fixing the strands around your face before dropping it to rest at your side once more. “we’re graduating soon.”

“ah, you’re right,” he huffs. “you should’ve gone with me to winter formal.”

“you never asked,” you chuckle. 

“i wanted to.”

“you did?” you’re slightly dumbfounded, sure that your confusion is abundantly clear on your face with the way sunghoon’s eyes crinkle up fondly.

“yeah,” he affirms. with augmented confidence brought on by the sheer exhaustion clouding his better judgment, he continues. “i like you a lot.”

you freeze, wondering if the loud music from before had damaged your hearing to the point of auditory hallucinations. sunghoon watches you, eyes expectant; scared, but hopeful. 

“i like you too,” you say eventually. then, you yawn, burying your face into the crook of your arm to cover your mouth as your ears burn in embarrassment. though he starts to laugh in amusement at your exhaustion, sunghoon yawns almost immediately after you do, mirroring both your pose and the embarrassed flush.

“let’s talk about this later,” he laughs, standing up straight once more. “when we’re not about to fall asleep standing up.”

you nod, conceding. there are so many more things you want to voice, so many that you think if you said all of them, the two of you would be standing on your front porch until dawn. sunghoon looks as though he feels the same way. but, your parents’ bedroom light is still on, and you know they’ll be waiting up for you to come home.

“i should go inside now,” you tell him reluctantly.

“okay, wait.”

then, sunghoon pulls you into a tight hug. your shoulders tense before you force yourself to relax and close your eyes. as your eyelids flutter shut, you feel a slight pressure on the side of your head as he presses his lips lightly against the crown of your head.

his hands linger just a little too long on the sides of your arms as he pulls away, leaving you to stare at him in slight awe. sunghoon releases you, and you find yourself awkwardly shuffling inside your house. 

“thank you again,” you say, now standing in the door frame, though you know you’ll be laying awake, staring at your ceiling for at least another hour and replaying the night in your head before you can even think about closing your eyes. your cheeks are starting to hurt a bit from the wide smile painted across your face.

“goodnight, sunghoon.”

a soft laugh leaves his throat as he grins, just as widely as you. he clutches the car keys a little tighter in his hand and step backward toward the street.

“goodnight.”

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon imagine #enhypen imagine #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon oneshot #enhypen oneshot

[onovnii]

Can we get headcanons of soft moments with Kakyoin and his s/o?

soft moments with him | noriaki kakyoin

—  short collection of intimate moments shared between kakyoin and his s/o. 

feat. noriaki kakyoin x gn!reader cw/tws. established relationship — light part 3 spoilers , not beta read we die like men (i think y’all are used to that by now) reader was briefly under dio’s influence , mostly just fluff!! note. i have a sort of soft spot for kakyoin, so i ended up writing wayyy more than i should’ve... i wanted to add more but i already reached 1k words on this,, hope you enjoy either way!! :) 

m.list.  

this takes place during the events of stardust crusaders.

the trip through egypt was a grueling one, enemy stand users attacking the group from left and right, popping up at unexpected times and usually leaving them bloodied and bruised; but kakyoin knew that, he knew very well how hard the experience would be when he offered himself to join. but that never did stop him from worrying about the crusader’s newest member, you. 

you had been put in a similar situation as he, a mindless zombie controlled by one of DIO’s flesh buds. when kakyoin had noticed you were a student just like him, he couldn’t help but feel a little sympathetic towards you. knowing DIO, you probably were put in a situation just like him; you more than likely felt the same fear as he did once. 

when jotaro had saved you from the flesh bud, you had asked them if you could come along to repay them for their kindness; much like how kakyoin did weeks prior. despite how similar you two seemed to be, kakyoin noticed what had made you both different from one another. even though you were just under the control of DIO, your eyes showed no fright. they burned with determination and passion. everyone in the group could see that you weren’t held back by fear. 

kakyoin admired you for it, honestly. maybe that’s the very same reason you both have gotten so close….

noriaki kakyoin. 

▸ kakyoin knew very well that you could take care of yourself, he’s seen you fight and he’s nearly lost his life at your hands. even so, his worry doesn’t cease whenever a stand user makes themselves present. without thinking, kakyoin would pull you closer to him. maybe even stretch out an arm in front of you. kakyoin was usually in the rear end when fights occurred, since he’s long ranged. which means he’ll always look out for you from behind, making sure any blind spots you may have are protected with all he has. after a fight, kakyoin is the first one to check up on you, barely trying to hide his concern.

“are you alright?” he’d say while his eyes scan over your body. if he spots any cuts or blood, his eyes soften and he lets out a light laugh.

“you should be more careful, don’t want to end up losing you” he’d tease, pulling you back into the hotel so he could treat your wounds. 

▸ when your group manages to find a decent hotel, you kakyoin and jotaro are usually ones who room together. sometimes jotaro just ends up joining polnareff to give you guys space. either way, you and kakyoin end up sharing a bed. kakyoin’s very aware that the rough environment may cause you to be a little restless, so he tries his best to help on the nights you can’t sleep.

▸ if it’s okay with you, he’ll pull you closer to him. hands tracing soothing patterns against your clothed skin. he’ll talk to you, tell you about his life back at home, or something mildly amusing that had happened earlier that day. he’d tell you how his mother used this same technique when he was younger, talking to him until he fell asleep, how he always wanted to try it on someone else. or maybe even how glad he is to have found a sliver of joy in this otherwise hellish trip, you.

▸ his talking and his comforting touch would lull you back to sleep, barely remembering the whispered “I love you” and the kiss to your forehead. but if you asked about it the next morning, kakyoin would only smile and flick your forehead.

“you must be imagining things.” 

▸ there’s a lot of quiet moments during the trip, especially in cars or waiting around in the hotels. nothing much would happen and DIO’s lackeys would be strangely quiet in their activities…. to pass the time, kakyoin would find himself fantasizing about how life would’ve been if he had met you in normal circumstances. or what he’d like to do when everything's all said and done. sometimes, he’d talk to you about these things over food. kakyoin would wake up early, look around the local town in the hopes of finding something you’d like. when he does, he excitedly waits for you to wake up.

“ah, you’re up. there’s a little something I'd like to show you, I found it while going out for a walk this morning. I think you’ll enjoy it” he’d smile sweetly, caressing your cheek with his thumb. you were still half awake and his words barely made any sense to you. chuckling, kakyoin leans down and kisses your cheek.

“just come downstairs in five, okay?”

▸ when you caught up with him, kakyoin quickly dragged you out to the town. assuring joseph and avdol that you two would be perfectly fine on your own, and if anything were to happen they’d alert them as soon as they could. 

▸ the place kakyoin had found was a small café, most likely family owned in the middle of the town. it looked like it served French and Italian desserts, a little gimmick for the tourists roaming around. kakyoin smiled brightly when pointing it out, seeming way more happy about it than you probably. it was cute, seeing him so uncharacteristically happy about something so mediocre. 

▸ when you both sat down and enjoyed your orders, kakyoin had took the time to admire you. you looked so cute with frosting messily spread on your cheeks.

“hey, look at me.” that was your only warning before kakyoin reached over and swiped the frosting with his thumb off your cheek. he retracted his hand back and licked the frosting off him with a wink. 

“you’re such a messy eater, you know?” he laughed, mostly at your shocked and flustered expression. he quickly apologized for embarrassing you, adding something along the lines of ‘i just couldn’t help it’ at the end of it. 

▸ this wouldn’t be a kakyoin piece without mentioning games in some way…. kakyoin barely has time to invest in his little hobby anymore, but he’s still a gamer at heart. at some point, he’d bring up an old video game he used to play back at home, asking if you’ve ever played or heard of it. if not, he’d promise to you that he’d play it with you once you all get back from Egypt. claiming that you’d never be able to beat him though, which only brings you even more determination to beat him at his own favorite games.

▸ kakyoin would also make a game of things if he’d notice you were getting bored. most of the time the other crusaders would join in on the fun, jotaro mostly watching from the side. (with a hidden smile). but if it were just the two of you, he’d make a silly little game of “who can get what the fastest” when joseph sent you both out to look for things. if you won, your reward was a sweet and chaste kiss to the lips. if kakyoin won, he’d demand you give him a kiss as well. either way, you’ll end up kissing him.

▸ speaking of, kakyoin enjoys kissing. maybe it’s cause he lacked that sort of physical affection growing up, but he enjoys spending his free time alone with you, cuddled up in his lap and pressing gentle kisses to his skin. honestly, he tends to forget about the whole “stopping DIO” agenda during moments like those. in his mind, time has stopped and only you and him exist in that current moment. 

▸ he finds it quite amusing how you’re so entertained by his hair. always absentmindedly playing with his curls, twirling it around your finger or swiping at it like a cat. kakyoin doesn’t let many people touch his hair. but if it’s you? it just makes his day.

▸ kakyoin enjoys any affection you give him, even if you aren’t a very affectionate person he appreciates it all nonetheless. though, he can be a bit of an ass with it as well. he’d tease you about it constantly. kakyoin honestly loves to tease you now that i mention it, constantly poking fun at you and making light hearted jokes at you. he never takes it too far though. 

▸ during the time he was hospitalized and partially blind, you had offered to stay behind with him until he had recovered fully. you didn’t want kakyoin to have to recover alone, you didn’t want him to be alone again. but kakyoin argued against it, he reassured you he’d be fine. he told you that he didn’t feel so alone anymore, he had friends to look forward to. and he still had you, his significant other. kakyoin kissed your hands and promised you that he’d catch up to you, no matter where you were, he’d come back to you.

©ONOVNII - valene <3

#valsfw #why is this so long #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo's bizzare adventure #jjba sdc #stardust crusaders #jjba headcanons #jjba imagines #jjba x reader #jjba fluff #jjba part 3 #jjba kakyoin #jjba kakyoin headcanons #kakyoin x reader #kakyoin headcanons #kakyoin fluff #kakyoin imagines #noriaki kakyoin #x gn reader #noriaki kakyoin x reader #noriaki kakyoin fluff #i think thats enough tags #still wondering how to characterize him...