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winterarmyy · 9 months

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Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part III

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 5.2k++ (sorry y'all)

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, fluffy stuff, tiny sprinkle of angst, soldat is heartbreakingly adorable until the very end, bucky not being very communicative, self-loathing, confusion, conflicted feelings between guilt and need, two idiots in love who are lost in a miscommunication, excessive use of the word 'fuck', and... what else? I'm not sure either lol.

P/S: This has been truly a journey. Thank you so much for the support y'all have been giving me. I really do appreciate all the comments and dms about my work regardless which one of them. Just wanna remind you that I won't be here without you; that's the degree of importance that you possess. Anyway, enjoy your reading.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

It's only been eight in the morning and the soldat had Y/N trapped between his arms as she focused on sifting the flour for the pancake batter. There were barely any space between them; not when he made sure that her soft plushy butt rests right against his crotch, while his fingers subtly move along her hips.

Those gentle trailings didn't last too long for comfort as he slipped his left hand under her sweatshirt. The soldat let his instinct took control as the metal of his touch draws invisible circles all across her bare stomach, while his lips peppered endless amount of butterfly kisses on the marks from last night; each one was now hidden under layers of color correcter and concealer.

"Wow." A raw sound of astonisment naturally slipped from Sam's lips as he found himself frozen in his spot at the corridor leading to the entrance of the kitchen.

Look at them. Acting like newlyweds on their honeymoon.

For a moment he forgot that the huge cuddly hunk in front of him was the winter soldier and not his fellow comrade.

But then again, it might as well made sense that it was not the Bucky he knew, because that man would've been a puddle of mess if he got the chance to touch Y/N like this.

Sam still remember that night when they had a Harry Potter movie marathon and Y/N ended up falling asleep on Bucky's shoulder. Even in the room that was scarce from light, Sam could clearly see the redness on Bucky's cheeks and ears.

It was an understatement to say that Sam had the best time of his life teasing the shit out of Bucky that night, knowing he can't do anything about it without waking Y/N from her comfy slumber.

"Soldat, please. I need to move around, you know?" Y/N's amused giggle pulled the soldat from his dreamy trance.

He shakes his head in the crook of her neck, snuggling deeper as he took a deep breath of her sweet scent, "No, you don't. You just need to stay here." The soldat huffed as he pouted and tighten his hold on her.

Y/N chuckled at his child-like antics, "You do know that you're not gonna get any breakfast any time soon if you keep doing this, right?"

Sometimes, she couldn't help but wondered if this is how it would feel like to have Bucky doting on her.

"Родная (darling), I'll gladly have you for breakfast. I'm sure I'd have a feast on that sweet little pussy of yours." He whispered seductively into her ears, as he sensed Sam's presence approaching the kitchen.

Y/N briefly fluttered her eyes shut as he purred in her ears, before slightly peel herself off from him, "Soldat." Her voice was stern and her eyes narrowed into a frown.

The soldat gaze down at her with a hazy grin on his lips, "Родная (darling)."

Unknowingly, the one-sided glaring battle began when Y/N refused to break their intense eye contact; each opponent uses a very contrasting approach, where one has a deep frown and a pair of blazing eyes while the other has the softest, droopy stare and literal hearts in his steel blues.

"Move." Y/N instructed as if it was a warning.

The brunnette let out a defeated laugh as he loosen his hold on her, "Okay, okay. Anything for you, sweet one."

"Thank you." She sighed. "Finally" she thought. She was worried that they gonna have breakfast for lunch if he refuses to let her go.

On the other hand, the soldat was unable to sit still on his own, so he continue to follow her around, like a hungry cat rubbing their forehead up their human's leg, mewling for attention.

"Morning, y/n and... her shadow." Sam finally make himself known as he greeted while naturally went to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Sam." she greeted back while the soldat swiftly put himself in between them like a barrier. He shot a menancing glare at Sam as the man was standing 'too close to Y/N' for the soldat's comfort.

Obviously offended, "Dude, calm down. I was just greeting her good morning." His voice raised as he defended himself for his rights, "Tell him y/n" he continued to tattle tail.

In which Y/N responded by patting the back of the soldat's shoulder as a reassurance before asking him to move away.

Let's just say that he begrudgingly agreed to just because it was Y/N's request.

"Unbeliveable." Sam rolled his eyes, "This your friend?" He asked as Steve entered the scene, greeting everyone a good morning before he quirked, "What?"

"Look at him." Sam accusingly pointed as the soldat, "He's hogging y/n." He continued to explain while purposely reach his hand to touch her. The soldat wordlessly pulled her away before he could reach any further, "See?" Sam pointed again.

Steve didn't defend anyone this time as he only laughed it off before finding his seat. His eyes sparkled with delight to the amount of pancake made by Y/N and the multiple choice of topping and sides; from the sickening sweet stuff to the oddly savoury ones.

He glanced over at his best friend, who was unsubtly trying to hog Y/N away from Sam and his baby blues soften as he thought maybe Shuri was right. Maybe Bucky was always present somewhere in this soldat's persona.

It was such a typical Bucky behaviour to be possessive as the soldat was being. Steve noticed that Bucky would always get a bit agitated when someone touch his girl, even if he doesn't actively show it as much. In the 40's he might've been able to hide it behind his charming smile and witty jokes, but nowdays anyone can see it on his ever-present frown and unintelligible grunts.

That applies for both Bucky and the soldat.

Y/N rolled her eyes at Sam as she pulled the soldat by the hand, "Ignore him, soldat. Now, come have breakfast with me." She sat him on one of the stool by the kitchen isle as she prepared his plate.

Perplexed by the lack response, Sam admitted his defeat for once and joined the isle to have his bite of the morning.

As soon as she settled on her own seat next to him, the soldat took her hand into his, briefly kissing her the back of it. "Thank you, darling." He whispered before placing their locked hands on his lap as they ate, casually rubbing his thumb on her for comfort.

If you thought Y/N was the only one who was blushing at the domestic show of affection, well you'd think again when you see the shade of red on the tip of his ears or the way Sam purposely looked away.

The morning went by with mostly three of them having a pleasant conversation and the soldat silently distract himself by playing with her hand, apparently enthralled by the size difference and how fragile looking hers was.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team came by the kitchen on their own time since some of them prefer to sleep off the pain from the previous mission.

Half an hour later, she felt as if she was caught in a dejavu when she found herself in the same position as before. She laughed softly as she washed dishes, while the soldat stuck himself to her like a oversize koala to a tiny tree.

"I smell pancakes." Tony spoke as he made a bee line towards the kitchen, looking like he just survived a bio hazard in the lab.

"I made extra. Help yourself." Y/N announced, not even trying to look back at them, especially when the soldat had her trapped in his tight embrace.

Tony peeked to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Y/N, "Did you see her? I didn't even know she was here until she spoke." He asked, though he sounded more like he was teasing her.

Before Tony could reach out for his plate, Shuri stormed to the kitchen, catching everyone's attention, "Pancakes can wait, Tony." She stopped him which only cause him to whine dramatically.

It felt as if Y/N's heart completely dropped out of her body when Shuri nodded knowingly, "It's time."

There was a quick briefing of the process with everyone involved while they prep the soldat in the other side of the glassed section of the lab. Y/N tried to focus on watching the simple simulation video that was prepared by Tony.

And she heard every single words of Shuri's but all she could think was if the soldat knew what they were doing. If he felt like he was being thrown, being disposed of like some kind of object.

By the time they the explanation ended, Y/N didn't think twice as she marched towards the soldat. The team didn't questioned her motive as they can see the determination in her eyes.

She stopped on her tracks, right at the entrance when a thought ran across her mind.

Of course, she wanted Bucky back but why does this feel so wrong?

"How are you feeling, soldat?" She prompted as she walked over to him, passing the lab employee who scurried away leaving the couple to have some privacy.

The soldat brightened in her presence as he reached out to her with grabby hands, triggering a soft giggle from Y/N. She let her hands gravitate towards his, intertwining her fingers in his hold as he replied, "Much better now." He sighed in contentment the moment he felt her skin against his own.

There was a comforting silence in the room, but Y/N's mind was the complete opposite. There was only chaos of questions that felt so sinful and immoral to utter out loud.

The soldat grip tightens with tenderness, as if he could hear the loud havoc in her head. Moments later, he decided to break the silence with an honest confession.

"I know that I'm not welcomed here." He glanced at the other side of the glass, watching the team pacing around. "I know that you're trying to get rid of me." His ocean blues changed its tides to gaze up at her; the smile on his lips was soft and pure.

"You know, I have been many things in this life..." the soldat looked down where his hands were entangled with hers, "...a killer, a weapon, a monster, you name it." there was a hint of grudge in his voice but mostly it was woven with regret.

"But, worst of all, I have been a thief." It felt as if he has been holding his breath as he avowed.

"I have stolen decades worth of his life, robbed him of his freedom for so many years, every single happiness and hope he could ever experienced had been stripped away right before his eyes," the soldat chuckled ironically before looking up to meet her teary eyes, "...yet I'm still greedy for more days with you."

Y/N found herself unable to speak, afraid that her words would do nothing to coax him; or maybe she just couldn't trust that her voice won't crack in the middle of her sentence especially when she was damn sure that her heart was already cracking for him.

The soldat's eyes softens when he reached his hand to her face, "I never knew that I was capable to feel these futile emotions such as joy and love, until I felt it when he looks at you." Y/N didn't even notice she was crying until he wiped them away with the gentle caresses of his thumb.

"Everything I felt towards you were his to begin with." He confessed as he felt the guilt of stealing yet another precious thing from him again, "That's why, I don't deserve this." The said as he recalled every moment he got to spend with her, "I don't deserve you."

The soldat knows that very well, but that didn't stop the natural curiosity that resides from within him, "And I can't help but to wonder..." he hesitated as he tried to construct the most raw and truthful question to sum up whatever this emotion he was currently feeling.

"Will you remember me?" His voice was small and quiet, almost afraid of the answer that might come his way.

More tears were spilling out as she unhesitantly replied, "How could I not?" Her hands raised to his face, cupping his scruffy cheeks in her palms.

The soldat's eyes sightly wobbled when he asked again, "Will you miss me?" At that time, he didn't know that the feeling he felt was called 'heartache', yet he was handling it like he had been experiencing it all his life.

Y/N leaned as she pressed the most tender kiss on his forehead, "More than you know." Her answer made the soldat smile as he purred in her hold.

He peeled one away from his face and pressed a kiss of his own on the delicate palm of her hand. The same ones that had showed him nothing but so much love and kindness.

When Shuri came into the scene, they know it was time to say goodbye. But, both refused to say anything remotely close to it. So, they wordlessly walked out towards the cylinder shaped glass pod, located right in the middle of the lab.

Until the very end, Y/N stood by his side as he lay on the tight space of the pod. And just as the door was about the close, the soldat smiled lovingly at his precious person, as he called for her nickname one last time.

"So long, Родная (darling)."

Three weeks later. At Avenger's private gym.

Steve re-adjusted his stance as he took cautious step backwards, "Why are you avoiding her?" He asked straightforwardly.

Bucky huffed a heavy breath as he lunged forward for a strike, "What are you talking about?" He missed when Steve easily swerved away and countered back, "Don't play dumb, Buck. I'm not in a mood for that."

The brunette blocked his punch with his left forearm but Steve uses that as an opportunity to grab him and pushed him on the floor. Bucky groaned as he landed flat on his chest, left hand on his back.

"Well, I'm not in a mood to talk about it either." He growled as he swing his leg backwards, toppling Steve on his back and pushed his metal arm against his neck, choking him out of his breath, "So, drop it." He warned.

Steve tapped the floor as a sign of defeat and Bucky released his hold while retreat his arm away. Both of them was out of breath but for entirely different reason; Steve was literally choked, so that's fair, but Bucky was breathing heavily as soon as Y/N stepped into the gym.

He stood there with an intense frown on his face, glaring at the woman of his dreams. Literal dreams, or memories of the soldat that was left behind for Bucky after what happened with the winter soldier situation.

Thankfully the method worked, Shuri and Tony managed to bring Bucky back but just like before, he don't have any clear recollection what happened.

While Y/N made the team swore to never speak to Bucky about what he did when he relapsed, while Bucky himself also hides the fact that, much like his previous experience where the memories comes in a form of unsightly nightmares, his memories of those few days were also coming back in a form of dreams.

Though they were never linear. There was no way of knowing the actual flow of his memories.

It came more like snippets of certain moments, sometimes repetitive, sometimes glitchy but they were mostly such good dreams, beautiful even, however they didn't last very long.

At least, not according to Bucky.

Y/N stopped on her tracks as she saw Bucky, who blatantly throwing daggers at her through his eyes. She didn't know why but she didn't want to think of the worst, so she went towards him in hopes of proving her own mind that the negative instincts that she had was wrong.

But the moment she got close, "Hi Buck--" Bucky walked passed her as if she wasn't there in the first place. And she had to admit that, that shit was painful to go through.

And he had been acting like this for two weeks now. Avoiding her like a fucking plague. And she doesn't know why.

He was acting normal during the first week of his awakening, or maybe a little bit more reserved that he usually would be.

She doesn't know how else to explain it but he seemed to act really shy whenever Y/N accidently touched him.

Did someone told him about what happened? Is that why he's mad? She doesn't get it, and she wants to know why.

So before Bucky managed to walk further pass her, Y/N turned on her heels and tugged him by his right arm to stop him. Little did she knew, that might just be the one thing she shouldn't do.

It was like a pre-programmed reaction, when Bucky's body move on his own, as he harshly ripped himself from her grasps, almost dropping her to the ground.

Steve was second away from reaching out to catch her but luckily she found her balance back on her own.

Bucky leered down at her as he spoke, "Don't touch me." His voice came out much more venomous than he intended, making Y/N flinched to his command.

But if that what he needs to do to chase her away from him then so be it, "Just stay the fuck away from me." Bucky spat a cold warning before marching his way out.

Not only leaving Y/N in utter confusion, but with her heart torn to bled dry.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.

"Don't." she whispered quietly.

"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm.

"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, ripping him out of the distorted memories only to leave him gasping in the darkness. He woke up swimming in his bed, drowning in the flood of sheets with his heart pounding as if it was desperate to tear out of his chest.

He looked around suspiciously as if he didn't recognized his own room, until strain of his crotch distracted him. His eyes pried downwards to see his cock struggling to fit in his pants and the images of his lucid dream flashes again.

Bucky shuts his eyes tightly, hoping the torture would stop reminding him of his sins, "You sick fuck." A deep frown formed as he muttered curses to himself.

After hours and hours of free falling tears in her room, letting herself drown in a sorrow that she never knew she would ever experience, she let herself wonder back to those lovely moments of her with the soldat.

She found it ironic that somehow the memories of his touch was also the cure to the wounds left by cruelty of his words.

It's hours passed midnight and her tears finally stopped, at least until her body was able physically form more tears in her glands, she took the time as a chance for her to rest.

Y/N laid on her back, letting the remaining tears to fall into her ears.

Worst part of all of this was not knowing why, and being left in the dark, yet he managed to effortlessly left her heart broken into shatters.

"Don't touch me."

"Just stay the fuck away from me."

Bucky's words had been circling her mind like a raging tornado. It felt like the spitefulness of his voice was mocking the flaws of her fragmented heart, toying with what's left behind after the storm.

Y/N didn't even realized when did she started to make her way towards the kitchen, but it was as if her body knew its own limit when her feet walked her out of the confinement of her room and her mind remind her to hydrate herself.

As she entered the kitchen area, she wasn't expecting to see Bucky standing in the middle of it, leaning forward towards the counter tops.

Even with the little source of light from the corridor, Y/N could see the tiredness in his face as he stare blankly into nothing. But, his expression soon changed when he saw her.

She didn't know what she had done to make him so agitated whenever he laid his eyes on her.

The silence between them was so loud that Y/N couldn't help but to approach him.

"I..." She truly didn't know what to say but it felt like it was her fault. She did take advantage of him when the soldat took over; endless use of his body, hands, lips and not to mention what happened that night. "I'm sorry."

Bucky was truly appalled to her words, even though he didn't show it on his expression. Why does she had to apologize to him when he was clearly the problem, "Why are you apologizing?" his anger naturally slipped through as he spoke.

But Y/N didn't know that he was frustrated at himself, and not at her, so the tone that he used stung her as much as it did prior, "I don't know." She simply said.

Lies.

She knew exactly why apologized but she wasn't sure if Bucky knew what happened when he blacked-out. "I just... I don't want to stay away from you. I don't like it."

She can't; not when her yearning for him had grew stronger than ever before.

"Well, you better get used to it because it won't change any time soon." Bucky spat harshly.

Y/N felt her own rage started to bubble from within.

Why is he being so hot-headed and stubborn like a sulking child? Can't he just act like a fucking adult and talk it out?

Her brows crunched into a frown as she held back her tone, "Why?"

Bucky let out a frustrated as he tried to walk away, shooting a demanding glare as he was passing her, "Just do as you're told, y/n"

"Oh no, you're not gonna run away from this."

She grabbed him by his arms and pulled him back into the conversation. "That's not fair, Bucky."

"Not fair?" His eyes narrowed, as he looked down at the smaller.

She puffed out an angry breath as she glared up, "No, it is not fair! It's not entirely your choice to make." She can feel the flames started to spread, "Especially when you refused to tell me why." She yelled accusingly as she shoved her finger to his chest.

Blood roaring in Bucky's ears as his heart pounded hard, pouring the concealed frustration out like a broken dam as he explodes, "He almost raped you, y/n!!"

There was a few milliseconds of non-movements as both them let those few words sink into their processing brain, "I... almost raped you." His voice shook in both anguish and anger, leaving Y/N frozen in a speechless shock.

"Or maybe I already did and I don't even fucking remember." His hands roughly tugged his long hair back as if he tried to go through the pieces of shattered memories in his wrecked mind.

"And if that is not a fucking sign for you stay away from me, I don't know what else I should do to make you see that." Bucky was breathing heavily that his breaths echoed through the silenced space.

Y/N's mind was running wild as everything slowly clicked. Did he thought that he... No. She blinked several times before she could form actual words, "Bucky, what are you saying? It's okay, it's okay. Just please calm down first and--" she tried to reach for him but that only made Bucky retorted, physically and mentally.

"It's okay? No, it's fucking not. Are you even listening to yourself? Can't you see? I'm dangerous y/n." He sounded as desperate as he was for air. "Especially to you. And if my messed up past was not enough to prove it, then what happened between us when I relapsed certainly did."

His heart rate increase rapidly, and his lungs seemed to work double time. Yet, he refused to let her see how badly he needed comfort.

"Bucky, please breathe. And just.. listen to me--" Y/N was hopeless trying to pull him out of the chaos of his mind but he just wouldn't listen.

Bucky's voice started to waver as the dark revelation continued to cloud him, "He assault you, y/n. I fucking assault you. And I can't let that happened again. So, just please, stay awa--"

"It was my choice!" Y/N snapped as she grabbed Bucky by his shoulder, forcing him to focus on her. "Bucky, I let him touch me. I could stop him if I want to, but I didn't."

Bucky didn't understand, "W-why?"

"Because I know he wouldn't hurt me. You wouldn't hurt me." Y/N tried to lay it out for him slowly but then she realized that maybe he didn't need that right now.

"Fuck, Bucky! I'm not a saint." She cursed after a few short moments of hesitation, "I have a lot of feelings I need to deal with like every other human being. Lust, love, you name it. And he..."

In a brief moment, she thought of the soldat, "He gave me the opportunity to feel the love that I always wanted from you. He showed me what we could've been." There was a sense of longing in her eyes, "It started small, soft touches and loving kisses." She smiled to the memories of it.

"And the moment that I thought that it could've been you who's kissing me, touching me. I knew it was over." She didn't know how many times she almost slipped out his name whenever she calls for the soldat; the name 'Bucky' was always at the tip of her tongue but never out.

"One thing led to another and we... I didn't mean to let it stray too far." She confessed, "Bucky, I admit it was wrong for me to take advatange of you, of the soldat, and I know there's no excuse to my behaviour than my own inability to control my feelings for you."

If the soldat thought that he was being greedy, then that makes the two of them.

"I understand if you want me to stay away from you, but just let me say this out loud." Her hands slid down to find his, thankfully he didn't repulsed this time, "Bucky... I love you." She finally spilled the truth as her soften gaze trained on his eyes, "I have loved you for a long time."

Afraid that this could be the end, she refused to look away. She didn't care if Bucky would plunge daggers to her through his words, she want him to know that her feelings for him was unconditional.

And Bucky really tried his best to let all her words sink in, even though most of them were somehow redacted and lost in his head.

But, thankfully the most important ones was so loud and clear for him to draw a simple conclusion that would ease his relentless worries, "You...I.. I didn't force it on you?"

Y/N didn't know why she wasn't expecting him to believe her but she was glad that he did, "No" she replied simply.

Bucky's voice strangled while his hand gripping tighter in her hold, "I didn't hurt you?" His teary eyes pleaded for the truth.

"Not a even close." She smiled kindly.

Bucky felt as the unbearable burden on his shoulders was lifted off completely just by those few simple words that Y/N just uttered. The tears he was desperately holding back broke freely as they stream down his face, his shoulders trembled with the force of his emotions running through his veins.

He whispered, "You don't hate me for it?" He pulled her hands closer to his face, fluttering his eyes shut as he kissed the knuckles of her fingers.

"Never." Y/N reassured, as she cupped his face; stroking her thumbs on his scruffy cheeks, wiping the warm, salty tears away.

Bucky sighed to her touch, it seemed that his body remembered her more than his mind did, "And you love me?" He blinked as he placed his hand on top of her.

Y/N nodded with a loving curve on her lips, "Always have."

Bucky didn't know how she does it but she really did managed to mend and melt his heart all at the same time. It was magic. Or, maybe it was sorcery. But even if she ended up leaving a curse behind, Bucky would still be glad that he let her bewitched him.

Bucky stared down at her, admiring her the kindness in her eyes despite the swolleness of them. He felt bad for breaking her heart, making her cry. It tore his heart just thinking about it.

His tongue darted out for a brief second as his metal hand fell, wrapping around her body.

Y/N maintained to lock her eyes on his as her hand slid down, and pressed on his chest. Despite being comfortable with his touches, and with the amount of kisses the soldat had generously gave her, she shouldn't be nervous anymore but she was.

After all, the soldat never kisses her on the lips and Bucky had his eyes on hers since the beginning.

She wanted his too.

Seeing the anticipation in her eyes, Bucky leaned in to press a kiss on her lips, his flesh hand came up to tilt her chin up, then gently cupped her face as he pulled her closer.

Her lips was so soft against his, that Bucky was sure that he will crave to this every single day.

He briefly pulled away from the kiss to whisper a soft, "I love you too, y/n." Before coming down for another chaste, "More than you could ever fucking imagine." He almost growled as he dipped for more.

Their innocent kiss soon turned into something deeper. They kissed passionately, lost in the bubble of time and space, ignoring the silenced ambiance as they were fixated on the sound of their beating hearts.

And when they pulled away for air, Y/N giggled as a silly thought went through her mind, "Well, I kinda see the glimpse of it in those few days with the soldat, so I think I got the gist of it."

That caused Bucky to let out a genuinely hearty laugh before humming playfully, "Hmm, do you now?" He went in for another kiss, knowing full well that he was already addicted to the taste of her lips.

He just can't get enough of it.

Y/N answered briefly in between his kisses, "Yes."

Bucky smirked as he smoothly guided her backwards, until the back of her waist met with the cold tile of the kitchen isle, "Three times, was it?" his eyes glint with mischieve when he leaned again to steal another kiss.

"What is?" Y/N titled her head to the side, unknowingly giving access for Bucky to lead his kisses from her soft cheek down to her exposed neck.

His lips trailed along the crook of it as he whispered, "Was it three times that he made you cum?" If his goal was to seduce her; well it was safe to say that he did it rather flawlessly.

Y/N thanked god that the kitchen was dim-litted, because the redness on her cheek was rather embarrassing, "I-I'm not sure."

She lied. But, Bucky didn't need to know that.

Bucky chuckled lowly as he murmured, "It's okay, babydoll. We have all the time in the world to beat that record." his naughty hands had already made their way toward her ass before she even have the time to register what he suggested.

Lust decorated the blues in his eyes as he whispered, "Starting now."

End.

<< Part II || Extra >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Yeay, we have reached the end but I might have more of the couple in the future. Though I don't know when will it happen but I have hopes for it. Meanwhile, why don't you tell me what you think of the series and checkout my other work!

#winterarmyyfics #welcome home soldat au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier!bucky

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milky-aeons · 2 months

Text

'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.

warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k

ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.

Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"

: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.

: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.

: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;

"You — are absolutely breath-taking."

: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.

"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."

: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.

𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .

"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"

Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.

"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.

And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.

ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎

: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.

: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!

: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.

: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.

"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."

: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.

: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.

"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."

: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .

"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.

Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.

But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;

"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"

Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.

"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.

He grunted. "Same... thing."

ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.

: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!

Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?

: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.

: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.

: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .

"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.

"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"

"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.

And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.

"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."

Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."

ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.

: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.

: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.

: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;

"There you are, my wife."

: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.

: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.

: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .

"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."

"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."

Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.

He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.

"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."

ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘

: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.

: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.

"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.

: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;

"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."

: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.

: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

"Fyodor?"

"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.

"Why did you ask to marry me?"

Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.

Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."

✎ . . . requested by the lovely @cocodrilofeliz!

WRITING REQUESTS

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dark-tides-in-faerun · 5 months

Text

Boiling Point (1/2)

Astarion x You!

Your party stumble across a hot spring in the wilds and agree to take turns bathing. It turns out, Astarion isn’t very good at taking turns but is more than happy to share…

🌶️mature🌶️ (fair warning that this chapter is just a little steamy but the next one will be very nsfw!)

You lay on your back in the recently discovered hot spring, eyes closed, basking in the delicious warmth. If this wasn't heaven, you weren't sure what was. The moon lights up the little clearing you’re in, giving everything that it touches a lovely, silvery sheen, and you close your eyes and relax into it, feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

“Well, hello.”

You almost jump out of your skin.

“Astarion.” You gasp, spluttering up a lungful of water as you quickly sink lower beneath the surface, arms crossing against your chest in a bid to protect your modesty as you twist toward him. The water’s cloudy enough that he wouldn’t be able to see anything, but that knowledge does very little to make you feel less exposed. “What in the nine hells is wrong with you?”

“Nothing that a little dip couldn’t fix.” He quips, lounging against a rock, his face the picture of innocence and your eyes narrow as you notice he’s clutching a crimson towel in one pale hand.

“It’s not your turn.” You warn, narrow eyes meeting his as his carefully blank face looks back at you. You’d all agreed on a schedule for hot spring use and given that he’d already talked you into letting him steal all of your allocated time, it definitely wasn’t his turn.

“Oh, I know that.” He replies, the picture of unaffected grace as he looks at his nails and then back at you. “I just think it’s a little selfish of you to be… indulging yourself with so little regard for other people’s feelings.”

“Is it?” You say, slowly, and his lips quirk up in response. “Or is it a ‘little selfish’ to interrupt someone during the only time they’ve had to themselves in days. Especially when that person in question has already given up every other opportunity to bathe in the hot spring for you.”

“Yes, yes, that was very generous of you darling, but try to look at it from my perspective. You generate your own heat, but what about me? Do you know what it feels like to spend night after night in this frozen and miserable, knowing that there’s something warm and wet that I could sink myself into just meters away?”

His voice is innocent, but as his eyes drop to where your skin disappears beneath the water, the smile he gives you is anything but. It's obvious he’s trying to use your physical response to him to manipulate you, because he's always trying to do that and you flush, desire flooding to your core just as he intends it. But you're not just flushing because of the obscene way he's looking at you. It's because that smile has reminded you of how he looked when he returned from the springs last night. All pink skin and delighted exuberance. He’d been light, playful, exhilarated... Happy. And you knew enough about his past to know that happiness wasn’t something he’d known much of in his long life.

“Why can't you just go and bother someone else for a change.” You grumble, but the delighted shine in his eyes shows you that he knows he's getting his way and you scowl at him. “Gods give me strength. Turn around.”

“Why?” he asks, mouth blooming into a full smile and you can’t help the extra little flip your stomach gives at the sight of it.

“Because I’m naked and I’m not getting out with you staring at me. Turn around.”

“Darling, I’m hurt. Are you really suggesting we can’t share? There’s more than enough room for two.” He pouts, eyes shining as he stares down at you, sparkling with mischief and butterflies flutter to life in your stomach at the suggestion. You know he’s only trying to get a rise out of you but damn it, if it isn’t working. "Besides, I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

You choke back a strangled laugh because it really wasn’t him you were worried about. The butterflies have gone into overdrive just from the suggestion, and you can feel the heat staining your cheeks a darker pink than the warmth of the hot spring. You stare up at him, eyes a little too wide, and he gives you a self-satisfied smile. You can see in his gaze that he expects you to balk. Expects you to surrender the hot spring and slink away with your pink cheeks and pounding heart.

Well fuck him.

You force a sweet smile, feeling a thrum of satisfaction at the slight widening of his eyes as instead of moving toward him you wade to the far edge and turn around. For a long moment there’s nothing and you wonder if he’s even still there.

“Well? Are you getting in or not?” You demand, proud that your voice is only a little shaky, and he lets out a laugh. You swallow, focusing on trying to keep your heart rate level as you hear the sound of rustling fabric and then the water ripples around you as he slips in behind you.

“You can look now, darling, I assure you I’m quite decent.”

You turn around and immediately regret not getting out when you had the chance.

There is nothing decent about the way he looks right now.

The moonlight floods the broad expanse of his naked chest, staining it an ethereal, shining white, and he looks like he was carved from marble. The steam from the water has already tightened the hair at the nape of his neck into little curls. He’s stark and beautiful in the silver moonlight, but it’s not even that, that’s most striking.

It’s his expression.

His eyes are closed, head resting against the grassy bank behind him and the little smile that plays at the edges of his lips is a million miles away from his usual shit-eating grin. It’s small and soft and decidedly content and you swallow. It’s the full force of the little smile you’d seen at camp. It’s true happiness, you realize and it makes your heart pound and ache in equal measure to acknowledge that you’ve never seen that particular smile before.

He shifts, lifting his arms from the water and resting them against the rocky edge of the pool, blinking up at you and that little smile dissolves into something darker. Water streams from his skin, running between the dips and crevices of his muscular biceps and you shrink into yourself a little, sinking into the water until just your chin hovers above it. There’s nothing you can do about your heart now, it’s pounding against your ribs like it wants to escape from your chest and his crimson eyes are fixed on you as you try your best to keep yourself in check.

“Happy now?” you ask, and though your voice is a little breathy you feel like the fact that you’ve even gotten the words out is a feat of heroic proportions.

“Very.” He replies closing his eyes, and you can’t help but smile at that. He looks more content than you’ve ever seen him and that thought triggers a reaction in you that’s so strong that you suddenly realize that you can’t stay here. He doesn’t deserve to be ogled like this, when he’s just trying to relax. From the little snippets he’s given you from his past he’s had enough of that to last several lifetimes.

You clear your throat and he opens his eyes again, one eyebrow raised questioningly you swallow, gesturing at him to swap places with you. He sits up at that, a surprised smile on his lips and you shake your head, not wanting him to get the wrong idea about your intentions.

“I’m going to leave you to it.” You say, your words only catching a little in your throat as he cocks his head to the side, looking at you thoughtfully.

“Leave me to what, exactly?” He asks, voice low and teasing, and heat rises beneath your cheeks as steam curls up in silvery tendrils around his chest.

“This. Warming up.” You manage, trying not to look at him as you edge your way around the to the other side of the spring, nearer to the grassy knoll, but you really need him to move out of the way if you want to make a graceful exit. “I’ll see you back at camp.”

“I can think of better ways to warm up.” He says, voice a little too innocent, and your gaze flicks to him before you can stop yourself. His eyes are fixed on you and the look in them is dark and predatory and you falter, heart in your throat. You’ve seen that look before, and you swallow as his gaze slips to your neck, the hunger in it apparent.

“I-I-“ you start, but your words die in your throat. The way he’s looking at you has melted your insides into a puddle of lust and your really, really need to get yourself under control. You take a breath. Blood. He means blood. You try to distract your pounding heart by thinking through the implications of what he’s asking. You’re no cleric, but surely bloodletting in hot water wasn’t the best of ideas... “Is it safe?”

He frowns at that, cocking his head to the side as if trying to work out your meaning and you swallow and touch your neck.

“Is it safe to feed in the water?” You say, again. He freezes for a second, and then some unreadable expression passes over his face before he quickly looks away. If you didn’t know him better, you’d have said it was disappointment.

“Of course.” He says, seemingly to himself, and when he looks up the expression has been swallowed up by his usual confidence. “Don’t worry, my sweet. I’ll take very good care of you.”

He holds out his hand and you bite your lip, hesitating for a moment. It’s not that you don’t trust him. If he says it’s safe you believe him, but you’re just suddenly very aware of your lack of clothes. You shift uncertainly, edging a tiny bit closer to him and a slow smile spread over his lips.

“I think you’ll find you need to be a little closer than that.” He says in a voice that spreads beneath your skin like treacle, and for the second time in one night you regret not leaving when you had the chance.

You shiver despite the heat as you place your hand in his and he wraps his pale fingers around yours, tugging you gently towards him. For one panicked second you think he's going to pull you onto his lap, but he stops when you're a few inches apart. You put your free hand on the grassy bank to steady yourself as he lifts your hand to his mouth, rotating it so that the soft skin of your wrist presses gently against his lips. He's fed from you before but, other than the very first time when he almost lost himself, he’s been almost clinical in his approach. Careful to only touch as much as he needs to.

This is not that.

You watch, dumbstruck, as his pink tongue slips out from between his lips to swipe a cool stripe across the overheated plane of your wrist. Your breath catches, a small hitch at the back of your throat, but he catches it and drowning crimson orbs flick up to meet your startled gaze. He does it again, staring at you darkly from beneath his eyelashes and licks another tortuously slow line across your aching skin.

You try not to, but you can't help but gasp, hand gripping tightly into the grass, and his pupils dilate with bloodlust as his fingers tighten against your skin. Gods.

“A-Astarion.” Your voice is breathy and tight, barely audible and you feel almost drunk from just this small amount of contact. He closes his eyes at the sound, a pained expression passing over his face as a shudder runs through his body, and then, before you can say anything else, his fangs sink into your wrist.

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arminsumi · 8 months

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can i request fluffy young love with yuji? he reminds me of that one song “and they called it puppy loveeeeeeee” he’s so sweet

PUPPY LOVE.

NOTE: this is so cute i sat here blushing and grinning pls!! and yesss that one song ahhh!! 🥲 it's got yuji written all over it. anyways hope u likeyy 💗

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

PLAY ME ♪ and they called it puppy love

yuji's eyes are heart-shaped when he has them on you. and he keeps a very straight posture when in your company; shoulders taught, chest puffed out a little, trying his best to impress you by showing off his tallness.

heeling wherever you go, he follows with peppy footsteps. even a stranger could tell that he's lovestruck.

his swooning is so blatant that it's become obvious even to his teachers that he likes you. he really exudes the 'i like you' vibes. the air between you and him is always buzzing with something that can't be identified by anything other than —

"puppy love. isn't it cute, suguru?" yuji's teacher comments as he catches the boy flirting with you yet again.

"mhm. very cute." suguru hums to satoru.

⁕⁕⁕

"can i walk you home?" yuji asks eagerly.

it's become a daily thing for him to walk you home. he knows you won't say no, of course, he likes asking just to hear you say yes. it makes him giddy.

he walks close alongside you down the sunset-lit streets, "clumsily" bumping his shoulder into you. the brief close proximity gives him butterflies.

the school day usually ended with the two of you sharing earbuds, listening to a playlist that the two of you made together, stopping by street food stalls, nearly choking on your soda when he makes a joke that catches you off-guard. things like that.

but something different happens today.

he holds your hand, when you two are about to cross the street.

you're staring at the walking person sign, impatiently waiting for it to turn green. and yuji is calculating his moves so hard that it feels as fatiguing as playing chess. the more he thinks about it, the more his hand starts to shake. the back of his fingers graze the back of your hand, you subconsciously reciprocate and — just like that you're finger-locking with your best friend.

he flattens his lips to stop from smiling. there's a boyish blush searing from the apple of his cheeks down to his jawline.

for every walk home after that, he always held your hand when crossing the road. eventually, he just started holding your hand the whole walk back to your house, and even down the school corridors.

each time he squeezed your hand in his, he was thinking of leaping in for a kiss. especially when you locked eyes.

sometimes the two of you could feel that you wanted to kiss each other, so you smiled bashfully and looked away. he'd laugh and mutter an unnecessary apology.

but one day, he braved it, and dove right in. he swiped a kiss right off your lips. he was so quick about it that you were too shocked to register what had happened — frozen in place.

the two of you looked at each other shyly, then started giggling to cope with the overwhelming romantic tension.

yuji got addicted to kissing you very quickly after the first kiss. little pecks at your cheek, on your hand, sometimes a cheeky smooch on your neck. poor megumi and nobara always complained about witnessing too much PDA. and though the teachers thought it was adorable, they scolded the hell out of you two when you tried to kiss in between classes.

some months after, yuji slipped a little promise ring on your finger. he seemed so nonchalant about it. but he was laid in bed daydreaming at night about one day putting a real ring on your finger.

#fluff #yuji #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #yuji x y/n #yuji x you #itadori x reader #jujutsu itadori #jjk itadori #itadori x you #yuuji #jjk x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori #yuuji x reader #jjk yuuji #yuji fluff

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reiding-writing · 25 days

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hi red !! i'm sending through a rec for your climacteric event hehehehe <3

spencer reid x fem!reader with the colour prompts red 1 ("You're bleeding."), green 2 ("You're safe here, I promise."), and purple 1 ("You know you're my best friend, right?") please? LOVE YOU LOADS RAHHHH

SCARECROWS [CLIMACTERIC]

1. “You’re bleeding.”

2. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

1. “You know that you’re my best friend, right?”

WARNINGS: reader injury, blood duh, mentions of being stabbed <3

spencer reid x reader || hurt/comfort || 1.6k || event page!!

a/n: you adding the direct quotes made my job so much easier in finding them rip 😭 thanks for the request ml <333

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ event masterlist!!

Sometimes you wondered why you joined the FBI.

If by making one different decision you’d be in a completely different career in a different part of the country with a husband and children living in a two story house with a white picket fence.

Spencer would probably fill you in on the butterfly effect, how a single flap of a butterfly’s wings could change the trajectory of the wind and spin into a tornado, or in your case, leave you stranded and unarmed in an overgrown cornfield with your only company being the crows flying overhead.

It was arguably, definitely, your fault, but what were you supposed to do when the unsub was running off into the night after you’d finally tracked him down.

He’d slipped under the radar for too long, you weren’t going to let it happen again.

Though you weren’t going to lie, you were starting to regret not waiting for the rest of the team.

How were you supposed to know that the welfare check you were sent on would turn into a chase?

They were twelve minutes out last time you checked. You didn’t have signal anymore, who knew how close they were now.

All you knew was that you were a sitting duck with an empty magazine in an unfamiliar location with a light level so low you could barely see your own feet.

You’d lost the unsub a good few minutes ago, and you weren’t about to stand around with nothing to protect yourself with, so you started running back the way you came, hopeful that it would bring you out back at the farmhouse, with floodlights and a phone signal.

You weren’t that lucky.

You never were.

—

“Oh my god—“ Emily sounds like she’s seen a ghost as she cups her left hand over her mouth, her right lowering to her side until her gun is limply resting in her fingers.

Her face is a mix of relief, astonishment and absolute horror, and as the team follow her gaze they mirror one by one until the whole group is frozen in abject shock.

You were alive, thank god, but you were also stumbling backwards out of the corn field like a final girl in a horror movie, completely disheveled and torn up with your attention completely focused on the rows of stalks in front of you like you were afraid something was going to pop out and finish you off.

The sight was enough for Spencer to feel like he was going to throw up his stomach, although whether out of relief or anxiety he wasn’t exactly sure.

Either way he was pocketing his gun and practically sprinting in your direction the second he got a full view of you, no care for what you were running from in his mind whatsoever.

At least you were okay.

“Hey-” His hand barely grazes over your shoulder before your instincts kick in and you swing your elbow outwards with the intent of sending it straight into his face.

It hits him directly underneath his nose, sending his neck back sharply to stop any worse injury occurring under the force of your arm.

It doesn’t deter him though, and he doesn’t so much as even cover his nose from the pain as he takes your arms in his hands to swivel you in his direction so that you can see that you aren’t in danger.

“Hey- Hey, it’s just me you’re okay, you’re safe here I promise,”

The flicker of absolute terror in your eyes makes him swear his heart is going to shatter, and even as he watches it fizzle out under the realisation that he wasn’t someone to be afraid of that small pit in his stomach didn’t disappear.

You looked bad.

Your hands were grazed and raw, you were covered in mud, half of your shirt had been ripped from the hem and tied around your left thigh — presumably as some sort of makeshift bandage, and you were so much paler than you usually were, all of the colour completely drained from your face until you looked almost translucent under the mix of moonlight and blared foglights.

“You’re bleeding— Did I do that? I’m sorry—” You reach up your hand towards and he swerves to take it in his own with a shake of his head, clasping his fingers gently around your shaking palms, careful not to irritate the angry red covering them.

“Don’t worry about me, are you okay? What happened?” His eyes roam anxiously over your frame, lingering specifically on the torn piece of fabric around your thigh that is slowly but surely turning from a charcoal grey to a dark maroon the longer you stand talking.

“I- He ran and- and I followed him and then I lost him and- I don’t- He doubled back on me and I didn’t-” Half of the words coming out of your mouth were almost completely incoherent, and he could see your pupils refusing to dilate even under the direct beam of one of the SUVs’ headlights.

“Okay okay, calm down, take a breath for a second,” Spencer gives your arms a small squeeze to cut off your attempt at an explanation, glancing over your shoulder where the team is still grouped together, with Morgan and Hotch on the phone — presumably for an ambulance and some backup respectively— and the others watching you cautiously, unsure whether they should join in on Spencer’s examination of your health.

“How did you hurt your leg?” You follow Spencer’s gaze downwards towards your thigh, and it’s like the second your eyes recognise what it is you completely loose control of all of your motor functions from waist down.

“Woah—” Spencer takes the sudden change in your weight distribution in his stride, or at least he tries to, shifting his arms underneath your armpits to stop you from hitting the ground underneath you and supporting your weight with his own as he stumbles a few steps backwards. “Guys—”

Emily is at your side immediately, alleviating some of your weight onto herself so the two of them can hold you upright.

“He had a weapon…” You wince under the searing pain in your leg, the adrenaline wearing off fast and hard now that your body knows it’s no longer in danger.

“What kind of weapon?” The concern seeps from Spencer’s voice to soak into your skin, leaving your heart to accelerate under the knowledge that you were injured bad.

“A uh… fork, like a gardening fork… He stabbed me with it…” Although more coherent now, your voice was slowly fading into small mutters and whispers, like the exhaustion in your body was catching up to your mind and making even your tongue too languished to move. “I’m really tired…”

“Hey no- not yet-” Emily shakes her head with a conviction. “There’s an ambulance on the way, you have to stay awake until then,”

“But…”

“Emily‘s right, stay awake you’ll be fine,” Spencer sounds like he’s more trying to convince himself than you as him and Emily support your weight back towards the cluster of SUVs, and the added weight of your head resting against his shoulder doesn’t help his anxiety whatsoever. “Hey, come on…”

He lifts his shoulder slightly to shift your head and you let out a soft noise of discontentment. “I’m awake I’m awake, just conserving my energy…”

“Just keep your eyes open okay?”

You give him a small hum as the two of them sit you down on the hood of one of the cars, and Emily leaves you in Spencer’s care to check with Morgan on the arrival of the ambulance.

“You know that you’re my best friend, right?” You turn your head a little further into Spencer’s shoulder as he becomes the sole pillar of your support, blinking slowly in an attempt to keep your eyes open.

“Don’t say that to me right now,” He shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, a dark line forming between his eyes as the skin pinches together in his worry.

“But you are though,”

“You can remind me of that after you’re in the hospital,”

“I hate hospitals,” You let out a small, fatigued huff, rolling your eyes at the prospect. “I’m gonna be in there for god knows how long and I just wanna find this guy before he hurts anyone else…”

“Well, he has hurt you, and that’s what’s important right now,” Spencer’s tone contradicts itself between concern and relief. You’re alive, but you’re not in good shape. “We need to make sure that you’re okay before anything else,”

And in an act of holy divination — or just coincidence if Spencer was concerned — right as he mentions making sure that you’re okay the blaring lights of the called ambulance come into view, joined by a shrill, sharp ring that seems to echo over the field.

You all but hobble over to it once it’s parked, successful only in the fact that Spencer is actually supporting more of your weight than you were.

At least he stays by your side the entire time.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #mgg #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #climacteric 🪶

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rkvriki · 1 year

Text

not a couple but not just friends with enhypen ! - hyung line

hiiiii!! i haven't posted in sooooo long im sososo sorry!! something different might be on the way!!

make sure to leave feedback. my requests are open and so is my talk box so let's talk!

WARNINGS ! making out, it's not really suggestive but ya kno; might contain grammar errors!

word count: 1.1k

LEE HEESEUNG !

— kissing and other types of pda

heeseung and you were alone in the dorms, all the guys were out doing their own things and you both took that as an opportunity to spend time together.

the two of you were in the kitchen getting snacks and drinks for the movie marathon you were gonna have.

“hee, can you help me? i can't reach those chips.”

“sure thing, princess.” your stomach fluttered with butterflies as he came behind you putting his hand on your waist while the other one reached for the chips, making you let out a quiet gasp, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. heeseung grabbed the chips and put them down on the counter, while his hand joined the other on your waist as he turned you around to face him. you smiled at him used to this type of behavior coming from him. you put your hands around his neck as his face comes closer to yours to connect your lips. you both shared a passionate kiss, moving your head to the side to kiss him deeper. you both missed to hear the sound of the front door opening and only realized someone was in the house when you heard the voices of jake and jay coming closer to the kitchen, making you pull out slowly from the kiss, unashamed by the fact they probably saw you guys kissing. you both looked at them who were frozen looking at you guys with a confused expression.

“but weren’t you “just friends”?” jake asked, making quotation marks in the air.

“we are friends.” you said shrugging.

rest under the cut !

PARK JONGSEONG !

— going out on romantic dates

today you woke up with a text from jay telling you that he was going to pick you up by 7:30 and that you should dress fancy. everyone was confused with whatever you and jay had going on. honestly to both of you it was very simple, you were both too lazy to put a label on it. it was obvious you two were way more than just friends. you started getting ready by doing your makeup since you were still indecisive with your dress. you went for your roommate to ask her for help-

“i can’t choose which one to use today, jay didn’t give me details about where we’re going so i don’t know which one is more appropriate”

yunjin looked at the dresses then at you. “the black is not too much and not too little, so take that one. also when will you let me know what you two have going on or?” she said, waving her hand at you. you sighed at her tired of hearing her asking the same thing every time you went out with him. “i’m not going over this again yunjin.” you said making your way out of her room.

you finished getting ready and decided to snap a picture for jay. you sent it to him and he replied almost immediately.

jay: baby… you look so gorgeous fuck

jay: i’m almost there

you smiled at his text happy that you didn’t need to have a label with him for you to know he was yours.

SIM JAEYUN !

— going on weekend getaways

jake loved taking you out to visit somewhere when he had his weekends off from work. it was hard for you both to go out for a few days since he had a busy schedule but you both still managed to spend time together.

you two were now in one of busan’s beaches watching the sunset, sitting in a blanket in the middle of the sand. the beach was secluded since it wasn’t that hot yet. your head laid in jake’s shoulder as he held your hands in his to warm them up.

“how did we end up like this?” jake asks “why so suddenly?” you ask him, chuckling. “i don’t know, just wondering how the hell i ended up taking my best friend on weekend getaways that aren’t really friendly.” you took your head from his shoulder looking at his face, silently admiring his side profile. you smiled at him and said “life makes us do the craziest thing i guess.” jake looked at you, making eye contact. his eyes scanned your face and he started leaning closer, making you do the same. your lips fell into his like a puzzle piece falling perfectly into its place. the fresh breeze from the beach blew into both of your hairs. jake’s hand came up to your face, cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss. you felt his tongue swiping your lower lip, making you open your mouth and letting him explore your mouth. you both pulled out looking at each other, giving one last peck and going back to watch the sunset.

PARK SUNGHOON !

— giving each other gifts

sunghoon loves spoiling you and it makes you feel bad because you don’t buy him half of the things he buys you. he keeps reminding you that it really doesn’t matter if you give him things or not because you alone are already enough to him. whenever he's traveling with the members in work or just a tripe he will be always saying “oh, y/n would love this.” and then proceeds to it for you. he doesn’t even check the price and the others keep saying something like “i don’t know why you spend so much money if you aren’t dating.” he just smiles at them not knowing how to explain it to them. he comes back home to you with so many bags and a cheeky smile. you stare at him dumbfounded and he just sits besides you telling you to open them.

“sunghoon how much did you spend here?!”

“it was just a little, don't worry about it.”

you do the same thing as him, or almost. when you are out by yourself, just shopping for yourself or with friends, you see a clothing item that you are so sure he would love it so you go and check the price, almost crying when you look at it. either way, you take a deep breath and grab his size and take it to the cashier. when you give them your card you always fear it will decline, knowing you won’t shop anything else for the day. when you give him his present he smiles like a kid on a christmas morning. he barely looks at it before he’s pulling you into a hug and thanking you.

“baby this looks so expensive, you didn’t need to.”

“don’t worry hoon, it wasn’t.” a big lie. it was and your wallet was crying, but for him you didn’t mind it one bit.

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erwinsvow · 2 months

Text

They call you the clueless pogue. The pretty one.

You don’t care much either way—that comes from years of being Kiara’s best friend, she’s taught you well on how to ignore what other people think and say about you. Maybe you would care more, you think one day, watching JJ and Pope drive each other crazy while trying to fix something that’s inexplicably gone wrong with the Twinkie. John B is swinging in the hammock, eyes closed, empty beer in his hand that is soon replaced with a fresh one by Kie. She drops the old can into a bin that has the recycling symbol drawn on with a sharpie, her own creation. She walks towards you with a can of fruity seltzer since it’s well known with your new friends that you refuse to drink beer—and it all feels very domestic.

You might care about what other people say if you didn’t love your friends so much.

You are a little clueless though—at least the boys think so. They wouldn’t dare to say anything when your protective best friend was around, but when it’s just you and one of them, or all of them, it comes out a little more.

You wear the kind of clothes that they wouldn’t let a sister of theirs be caught dead in. They never used to care about stuff like that, not until you started hanging around more often. It was the result of absent parents that were only on the island a few months out of the year. The rest of the time you had free reign, and an unlimited credit card that often funded their adventures—gas for the Twinkie, beer for the night, a new outfit to wear to the party.

JJ gets into a fist-fight with a guy who keeps offering you a drink from the keg, not listening no matter how many times you refuse and grabbing the short hem of your yellow dress to yank you back. JJ doesn’t mean to knock him out—it’s just like instinct, he explains later that night to John B and Pope while you’re sound asleep on the pull-out with Kiara—the way he feels protective over you.

“Are you okay?” Kie asks, and you smooth out your dress from where that guy had grabbed it.

“Only because JJ saved me,” you say, looking at him with big doe eyes and fluttering eyelashes. He swallows uncomfortably.

“No biggie, princess, I mean you know me, I’m a big damsel-in-stress kinda guy-” Kiara rolls her eyes and brings you inside, and he’s left standing there with pink-tinged ears.

He doesn’t tell them about how you were looking around for someone, anyone to help, how scared you look when he touched you, how your face visibly eased when you locked eyes with JJ, how you held a bag of frozen peas to his black eye and kissed his cheek before going back to find everyone earlier. He decides to keep that for himself.

You don’t keep an eye out for your surroundings when you tag along on their adventures either. That’s pretty much John B’s responsibility now, walking towards the back with you. You often start looking around, head in the clouds, staring at the trees and sky and walking right into a pile of mud or a puddle.

“Wow, the air is so clean out here,” you comment while taking a deep breath. It’s said quiet enough that only he can hear you.

“Yeah, pretty girl, that’s because of all the trees.” You laugh and shove his arm, because duh, but you can’t respond because the others are yelling for you two to catch up.

He doesn’t let you lead—you’ve cried over too many ruined shoes for him to risk it anymore—instead he holds onto your hand firmly, gripping tight when he needs you to slow down and pulling gently when it’s okay to proceed. It’s his job to make sure all the bugs are out of the way, that you’re not walking into a spiderweb or running after a butterfly or pretty bird. The others tease you two and laugh, but you still thank him with a tight hug, the thin material of your sports bra not really hiding much, murmuring something about no signs of mud on your new sneakers.

“Yeah, anytime,” he breathes after you’ve already walked away. You turn back to smile at him, adjusting your ridden-up tennis skirt you’d sported today. “Wouldn’t wanna dirty those shoes.”

You make Pope feel like the smartest guy in the world sometimes, without even trying. It’s not like you’re stupid, because he knows you’re not, but when you bite your cheek and tap his shoulder to ask him another question about whatever you were working on, your words start going to his head.

“So if I wanna save this and put them all together, I just use this program? And I just use the mouse?” you say thoughtfully, repeating his instructions back to him.

“Yes, sweetheart,” and he tries his best to make sure he sounds patient—he’s learned from experience you don’t react well if you even suspect he’s getting frustrated.

Pope watches you play with the thin straps of your shirt before the string idly falls off your shoulder, exposing a swath of soft, sweet-smelling skin to him. Staring at your bare shoulder, he thinks he could never get frustrated at you even if he tried his hardest. When you finish making your little vision-board on photoshop, you turn to show him proudly, and he is proud, with how well you followed his instructions and weren’t too shy to keep asking for his help. Later that night at the Chateau, you lean against his shoulder with his arm swung around you on the couch and explain what each of the images mean until you fall asleep.

They’re all playing a game of chicken—wondering which one will be the first to cross that line and suggest something more than just friendship to you. Through empty cases of beer and boys-only fishing trips they’ve briefly discussed to each other that they’re interested, but of respect—to each other, not really to you—they haven’t made the first move just yet. No matter how difficult you make it.

At the beach you help the boys wax their surfboards, taking turns with each one, floating around a little tipsy already from your fruity drink. They’re all talking, but you don’t really pay attention, eyes staring at something in the distance.

JJ covers his mouth, imitating a walkie noise.

“Hello, uh, earth to princess, over.”

You turn back to him and his board, dropping the chunk of wax and leaning in. He blanks for a second—your pretty face getting closer, an eyeful of your tits in the tiny bikini you’re wearing today making his head spin. And you’re infront of everyone, which is definitely not how he’d thought he would win this little competition.

“Do you see that pretty girl over there? Three o’clock?”

“I see a pretty girl right in front of me,” he says, and you laugh, pushing his shoulder. He doesn’t realize that you think he’s just joking.

“Jayj, seriously. See her?” He nods, but still doesn’t turn to look. “She’s been staring at you for, like, ten minutes. You should go over there!”

You’re smiling big, like the idea of another girl talking to him sounds fun. He pulls back from you, confused.

“I need another beer.” He stalks off, walking to the boys while you turn to Kiara.

“What did I do wrong? I’m trying to get him laid-” Kiara rolls her eyes. You turn and see the boys in deep conversation, occasionally glancing back at you and Kie.

“She just told me to go flirt with some girl, like, right in front of her. I mean is this some kind of test?” He takes a long chug of the beer, sounding about as stressed as Pope and John B have ever seen. “Do I fail if I hook up with some rando? Or do I fail if I don’t hook up? It’s Schindler’s cat, man-”

“That’s not-” Pope starts, before being cut off.

“Sorry, sorry. Schrodinger’s kids.”

“No, JJ-”

“What the hell does she mean? So she wants us to hook up with other people?” John B cuts in, looking back at you, but something else on the beach seems to have caught your attention.

“Woah, I’m not doing that, but you two are more than welcome-”

“Yeah, nice try, Pope. We get with some girl so you can tell her you stayed loyal and win her over? I don’t think so, genius-”

“Well, you’re the one she’s trying to set up so I think I’m pretty safe right now-”

“It’s not a reality show Pope, you can’t eliminate me.”

“Guys,” John B speaks up.

“If this was a show, I’d clearly be the fan favorite and the winner-”

“Uh, says who? I would so win, let’s do a poll right now and survey this beach-”

“Guys.” Louder this time, they listen to John. He doesn’t say anything, just stares into the distance and soon they join him, to see what he’s looking at.

“Y’gotta be fucking kidding me,” JJ says, watching you run into Rafe’s arms, swinging around before giving him a kiss. Rafe pulls away and looks straight at the three of them, while giving them a wave.

#i am a proud supporter of reader x all three pogue boys <3 #obx #john b routledge #jj maybank #pope heyward #rafe cameron

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vexis-world · 3 months

Text

“You can't seriously be that dumb..!”

💗 Clarisse la rue x daughter of Apollo!reader one-shot 💗

Authors note: hi reader!! This is my first fan-fiction post so I'd love any constructive criticism to help improve my writing for the future! This is not beta read so it's far from perfect - but I hope you will still enjoy it nonetheless :)) Ty for reading! 🫶

Short summary: Clarisse has some doubts about your "relationship" and seeks you out to speak about her worries.

Word count: 940ish words!

Clarisse’s mind was swarming with thoughts; it always does when she trains alone. She thinks best in the training arena, it's in her blood after all. You and her had been in a relationship for almost 3 months now and hadn't kissed yet. Which isn't a big deal! Clarisse doesn't mind, at least that's what she tells herself. But this is her first relationship, and she doesn't have anyone to unload this onto. To ask advice without having to reveal too much about herself, and her most private fears. She knew that you wanted to take things slow. Although it was not confirmed by words, Clarisse could (in her opinion) read her ‘girlfriend’ well. However when was slow, too slow? Were you having mixed feelings all of a sudden? And if so why had this not been brought up? Clarisse believed that you two were close, as ones in a romantic partnership should be; but perhaps not as close as she had originally thought.

Clarisse took large and fast steps, speed walking over to you. People moved out of her way, they could tell it was urgent and that they shouldn't mess with Clarisse at this moment. Or any moment for that matter.

“Hey Clarisse!” you spoke enthusiastically, finishing up a patient in the infirmary. “Pretty girl, explain something to me.” Clarisse's words make you blush, faintly; you had mainly gotten used to her flirty remarks these past few weeks, but she always manages to catch you off guard, every once in a while. “Ok.. what's up?” you asked, in a nervous tone. You could clearly see the distressed look on the girls face. “It's sort of private, can we speak in the back?” this added to your nerves, clarisse was usually never this off. “Of course, is everything okay?” but before you could finish your sentence, clarisse had already walked over to the back of the infirmary and into the supply area.

The supply closet was cramped with the both of you in there. Clarisse had to push up against you with an arm over your head for you two to fit somewhat comfortably. “Clarisse, is everything okay?” you asked again, this time hoping you would get a straight forward reply. “Do you.. Have you um..” clarisse stuttered avoiding your concerned gaze. “Have you lost feelings for me or something?” she finally mutters. You spent a minute gathering up your words, to find a way to reply. You bit your lip with furrowed brows, before the words fully processed and then said. “What..?” Clarisse had a strange expression on her face. “It's been three months and we haven't kissed or held hands in public. We don't go on proper dates. I feel like you don’t like me” she says quickly with an eye-roll included. “Clarisse, what are you on about..? Why would we kiss?” you asked hesitantly. “Why wouldn't you? Were in a relationship, isn't that kinda the norm?” This left you frozen. You were shocked, obviously but also majorly embarrassed. Had you been in a relationship without even knowing it? And to your crush no less. Fuck. “.. relationship?” you said nauseously, with butterflies in your stomach. “Clarisse, is this some sort of sick joke..?” you added, with shallow breaths. The room was getting stuffy and suffocating. “What do you mean sick joke? Have I ever lied to you? Are my feelings a joke to you? Is that it? Forget it. If I make you this fucking sick then good thing you're in the infirmary. I'm leaving, let's not talk for a while, 'kay?” she pushes past you. since you two were practically melted into one another, you could feel how she'd gotten warmer and how her heart rate had gone up significantly. You try to go after her but just as you do, your brother, Will asks you to tend to another patient that had just come in. He calls over his shoulder. “trouble in paradise? Gonna have to wait, I'm afraid - I need some help over here!” leaving you even more puzzled.

An hour or two goes by since you spoke with clarisse, and she’s consumed your thoughts entirely. You decided to speak to her at dinner and try to resolve whatever happened earlier.

“Clarisse, can we talk? Again..” you whispered, almost begging. “Kinda busy. We’ll talk later.” clarisse brushes you off to finish scraping her offerings into the fire. “Please clarisse. I need to speak to you. Just for a second.” you plead. “Two minutes. Two, that's it.” clarisse says, her eyes finally looking up from fire to the now very interesting sky. “Thank you.” You sigh and lead her away to a more secluded area as she had done with you. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And they're not a joke to me. I'm just confused. What did you mean by relationship?” Clarisse replies by saying “what do you mean, what do i mean? We're dating, aren't we?” you take a pause, dumbfounded for the second time today. “Since when? Don't take this the wrong way but.. I don't remember you asking me to be your.. Um.. girlfriend.” your voice is wobbly and uncertain, you try your best to make your words seem kinder, as to not offend clarisse again. “Well, I guess I never asked but.. Oh.” Clarisse's words end as she parts her lips. She's realised her error. And so had you. You let out a breathy chuckle and say “maybe this time you should actually ask me.'' Clarisse looks at you with much more confidence now, her infamous sly grin back on her perfect face. “Maybe that would be best, sweet girl.”

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x you #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson books #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #pjo fandom #clarisse la rue

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lovebugism · 4 months

Note

being with toxic people on Christmas eve, hurt/comfort with eddie + shy!reader, because this is my situation and I'm projecting 😔

i'm so sorry angel! i hope this makes you feel a wee bit better!! — when being around family gets too hard, eddie makes everything feel easy again (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, friends in love, tw for brief mentions of toxic family, 1.1k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

December is bitter, glittering, and terribly cold.

The crisp chill takes your breath away when you storm out into it. It burns your lungs and scratches at your chest like a living thing with claws. When the initial shock of wintry dreariness fades, you take your first deep breath in all day.

You feel somehow less alone out here by yourself than you did inside your own house. The falling snow keeps you company in a way your family never could. The empty, faint pink sky drapes over you like a fuzzy blanket.

You think you’d rather freeze out here — in the peaceful, early-winter melancholy — than step foot back home.

You walk down the gravel path of the trailer park with snow crunching beneath your feet. The sound is soft and hollow and pleasant. The piling crystalline dampens your sneakers as your legs move on their own. Muscle memory at its finest.

You gravitate towards the Munson trailer without thinking twice ‘cause the safest thing you know is waiting for you there — standing on his snowy front porch, smoking a cigarette, and shivering under a thick flannel coat that’s obviously older than he is.

A quiet smile lifts the corners of your mouth when you see him.

Eddie’s winter-kissed features twist in concern at the sight of you, all alone and in the dark. “The hell are you doing out here?” he asks in place of any real greeting, breath leaving his rosy, chapped lips in a thin white cloud. “It’s freezing!”

You know this. The cold is impossible to ignore. You were just too eager to get out of your house, too eager to get here, that you forgot to notice how much your frigid limbs were aching.

“I wanted to see you,” you confess in a tiny voice, as light as the falling snow sticking to your hair and sweater.

Eddie’s chest swirls with warmth. Suddenly it’s summer, and everything’s golden instead of navy blue and bitter. With a sudden longing to close the distance between you, he says, “Get up here before you freeze to death.”

You climb up the steps of his porch without a word of complaint from your mouth. You gravitate towards him like he’s the sun, a bright yellow thing that makes the winter seem less dreary. You ache to be near him just the same, to hold him with your frozen hands until you’re warm again.

He reaches for the lapel of his coat, and you think he might take it off for you — swaddle you in its warmth like they do in the movies. Despite the swarm of butterflies the thought stirs in your stomach, you’d rather him keep it on. You don’t want him to suffer just because you forgot to put on a jacket before rushing here.

Only Eddie doesn’t take it off. He keeps it on and ushers you closer with a silent nod of his wild head. He wraps you up in it with him — with his palm on your back, his curls tickling your forehead, and his heart against your heart.

You bury a final sigh of relief into his Corroded Coffin tee, thankful to be in his arms. He soothes you with the familiar scent of his musky cologne, heals you with the kindness of his touch. He opens suns inside your heart and makes you forget how cold you used to be.

“What happened?” Eddie asks, chin bobbing against your head. He snuffs out his cigarette on the small ashtray on the wooden railing, then swipes a hand over your hair to brush off the snowflakes sticking to you. “Why aren’t you at home?”

You make a vague I don’t know sound, muffled into his chest. “I just needed to be outside for a second,” you say finally, so soft your words get buried in the whistling wind. In a strained and fragile voice, you tell him, “It’s so loud back home.”

Eddie knows that’s not totally the truth. You didn’t leave in such a hurry that you forgot to put on a coat just because it was loud. You decided it was more important to risk freezing on your way to him than stay where you were, so it must be more than you let on.

Eddie doesn’t pry, though. Just holds you tighter.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he says in a sympathetic sigh.

You can hear music playing from inside the trailer — Steve Miller Band, you think, or maybe Lynyrd Skynyrd. Uncle Wayne loves both, and their rhythmic guitar shakes the walls of the old house accordingly. The Munson clan’s closest friends and family manage to shout over it all, mixed with loud laughter and something warm.

It doesn’t sound as mean as the shouting you’re most familiar with.

“How long do I have you before your folks start hunting me down?” Eddie asks, lips curled into a smile against your head.

“As long as you want,” you answer with a sad laugh. “No one’s coming to look for me.”

Eddie nods despite his stinging chest and sways you gently back and forth.

“Good. I wanted you all to myself— It’s what I asked for for Christmas, actually.”

You snort a disbelieving scoff.

“I’m serious!” he insists with a loud laugh. You feel the rumble of the boyish noise against the apple of your cheek. “I put the letter in the little Santa mailbox on Main Street and everything!”

“Well, I’m glad I could make your wish come true,” you joke with a conceding sigh. You pull slightly back from him, only enough to see his face. You find him smiling down at you, a pink grin that shows all his teeth. Beautiful. Warm. Sunlit.

You try to smile back. It’s a little too forced and ends up looking like a wince.

Eddie’s face twists in concern. Still smiling, just a little softer now. “You’re okay, right?”

You nod at first. ‘Cause you feel like that’s what you’re supposed to do. Then you realize it’s Eddie, and you shrug. “Now I am,” you answer finally, quiet in your subtle confession.

His rosy grin widens. “That is very cheesy,” he teases with a twinkle in his dark eyes. He squints them a second later. “You’re not flirting with me, are you?”

Your face burns hot as you laugh out loud. “No!”

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he jokes, pouting now.

“Shut up.”

He shrugs. “I just thought we had something going here.”

“Are you flirting with me, Eddie Munson?”

“Of course I am!” he blurts with a laugh you can feel in your chest. “I’m surprised it took you this long to notice.”

You figure he must be joking, so you shove him away with a halfhearted hand. He pulls you back into him with gentle fingers wrapped around your arms, and you let him — resting your cheek against his shoulder with every intention of melting with him.

There’s something innately sweet about his presence. His warmth. This closeness. And this silent sense of understanding you share.

You don’t want to think about what you’re running from anymore.

You’re just glad you ended up here.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

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zwhoreo · 1 month

Note

Hi! Can I request a fic where the fem!reader helps Luffy to deal with the trauma of losing his brother?

omg first fic after i randomly left for 2 months!! but im back to writing angst again im in an angst phase

also i ended up not specifying anything gendered for reader, hope that’s chill that it’s x gn! i mostly reserve gendered language for smut

wake up @nina-ya i finished the fic i said i’d finish 2 months ago

nightmares - luffy x gn!reader

angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

❕SPOILERS FOR MARINEFORD❕

summary: the trauma of marineford gives luffy nightmares, and you need to comfort him while he’s vulnerable and scared

contains: luffy in a distressing emotional situation, luffy is traumatized, references to marineford/ace’s death/timeskip

words: 2k

_______________________________

Luffy never used to remember his dreams. They were hazy and soft, they made him feel warm and fuzzy when he woke up, he would stretch and yawn and they’d go away so fast and so gently like butterflies flying away. And then he’d see you and hold you and kiss you until you were awake too, as excited to see you and his heart so warm and full of love.

And you were there to enjoy his dreams, he was a noisy sleeper who mumbled happy little thoughts unintelligibly into your neck, he would kick and pinch and squeeze in his sleep which you had to learn to live with because he couldn’t go to sleep without a hug and you’d be the one to give it to him all night. But he’d often end up moving and rolling around, tangling himself uncomfortably, protective instincts kicking in he'd get on top of you and lay there, starfish. When he awoke in the night he’d assume his most comfortable and close position with lazy kisses. He was so, so happy every night.

That was two years ago.

He’s still the same boy he was then, still giving you all those awkward little affections during the night that you missed so much while you were away. But now there’s more. Now, sometimes, he has nightmares. Awful ones that torment him every so often and make him upset and sad when he awakes in the dark, make him begin to cry when he realizes you aren’t in his arms anymore. You always pray for nights when he’s calm like he used to be, you make sure to massage him and kiss him as he falls asleep to coax those good dreams back and help him heal. Of course those years ago he’d get upset and scared and sometimes he wouldn’t feel well when he woke up, but that was so rare, that was when something bad had just happened and he was very stressed but it was so rare because he was so, so happy.

Luffy’s happy now, too. He hasn’t changed much, really, still an excitable, bouncy kid, always smiling, but now you have to worry about the night. You have to worry about dark thoughts and memories bubbling over when he’s most vulnerable until his body shakes and even your affection is barely enough. This is terrible for you, so unbearably terrible. You have to learn how to soothe something broken, something you love with every fraction of your shattered heart.

_________________________________

You’re asleep, a dull, unbreakable sleep, you’d curled up in Luffy’s arms when it was time for bed and you’d cuddled together and giggled and kissed until you both fell asleep in a joyful pile. Now you’re so content, you don’t even notice how Luffy had accidentally rolled away from you in the night, sheets all tangled up with you and keeping a distracting warmth.

Luffy’s dream isn’t bad at first. It’s the kind where you’re not quite there, floating above the world in just a dull picture, no sound or feeling or touch. It’s just the ocean, a bird over the sea. But suddenly the ocean is stone and the sky is fire and he’s disoriented, where is he? What’s happening? He looks at his hands and they’re red and he’s frozen in fear like you sometimes are in nightmares. He knows in his fractured, cloudy little mind that something bad is going to happen and he’s going to see that picture again. A thousand flashbulb memories are going to explode at once, in fire. In the waking world in bed he’s twitching and sweating and his eyes are shifting furiously beneath his lids, and you don’t know, you aren’t there to hold him.

Ace. Ace’s smile and his soft black eyes and they’re playing in the jungle together and running and running and now that’s gone, the fire’s back. It all happens at once, so much blood, holding something fading and dying. Heartsick over a goodbye. It’s one of those nightmares where you cry and scream so much and as loud as you can because everything’s happening to you at once, but you can’t make any sound, you’re just in a tidal wave of amplified agony. And that’s how Luffy lives in this moment, unable to make out much of anything except darkness and pain, shaking and overheating in his sleep.

But the anguish bursts all around him and then suddenly the fire’s gone and everything is quiet again and Luffy’s awake, tangled uncomfortably in the blankets, face covered in tears. He can’t catch his breath and his mind is full and blurry and empty all at once. Suddenly the darkness of the cabin is all encompassing, sickly, he wants it to be day again and for the world to feel safe and happy and oh, where are you?

Fear squeezes his heart as he tries to find you in the darkness, are you gone? He can’t handle being alone right now, he can’t do this, he searches with his hands in the dark and cries and feels the panic burning a hole in his stomach but finally he turns to his left and there you are. Sleeping. Despite all of this you’re still sleeping, curled up and breathing slowly, unaware and at peace. Luffy wants to wake you up so badly because he doesn’t want to be alone but he doesn’t want to worry you.

So he climbs into your arms and breathes you in. He buries his face in your chest and tries to calm his injured heart.

Biting his lip and shaking he tries so hard not to cry. He can’t bother you, he knows you’ll be sad and worried which he really doesn’t want. But his whole body hurts, he wants your arms to be tighter, he squeezes and squeezes begging silently for relief and for everything to go away but it wasn’t just a night terror it was a memory and memories don’t just go away. So he cries.

You’re stirred from sleep because the sound of Luffy crying is the worst thing you could possibly hear, a thousand of your own memories are brought back and some deep instinct is triggered within you, pulling you, you wake up immediately and the first thing you do is get on top of him and lock him in your arms, trying to breathe slowly so he will too.

He twitches beneath you, cloudy realization that he’s no longer alone. His arms are around you, fingers digging in, sharp pain, he’s trying so hard to make his tears stop as you hold him and stroke his face. But he’s a possessive, needy boyfriend who’s comforted by protecting who he loves. He sits up, taking you with him, he wraps his arms around you tighter and tighter and then his legs. He’s breathing heavily on your face, eyes closed, sad still but resilient. You’re pinned to him, unable to move, but you massage the tension out of his back and shoulders as best you can.

“Did you have a nightmare?” you whisper and he nods against you and holds you even tighter if that’s possible, “…do you wanna talk about it?”

So he nods very gently but he doesn’t say anything. His hands are twitching against you, scratching at your back in leftover desperation.

“Was it about him?”

Luffy leans against you, hopeless and drained, you don’t need him to answer so you just press your cheek against his and pet his hair. And his shoulders shake as he cries silently in your arms.

You rest there for a few minutes, unable to do much other than just hold him, and he whispers in your ear, “I miss him so much.” Which wets your eyes because there’s so much pain in those five words. His voice is breathy, far away.

“I know, Lu… I’m sorry.” You’re not good at this, you think. You never really know what to say because this goes deeper than words can touch.

Luffy bites his lips. He doesn’t want to cause you pain and knowing that he is, it’s just piling on top of his despair. There’s so many times he’s oblivious to how you’re feeling but when things are broken, when you’re in distress, reality tugs at the inside of his heart.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, fingers in his hair, you kiss his neck gently and the warmth is getting through to him, so gradually.

“I want him here. I just…” Luffy’s voice is breaking. And you taste fresh tears as you move your lips higher. “I miss him,” he says again.

“I know how much he meant to you. Hey, Luffy…” The slow rise and fall of your chest is slowly steadier his breath now. He looks up at you, that sadness in his eyes is almost too painful to handle but you look at him anyways, eye contact with something beautiful soothes his soul. “He’d be so proud of you. And how strong you are.”

He’s heard this before. Luffy sniffles, he knows it’s true but only so much of that can help.

“He’d be proud of you, because you never gave up, right? You kept going and you got stronger.” And you’re not talking about his physical strength, really. You tap the side of his head gently. “Up here.”

Luffy nods subtly, his tears are stopping slowly as he clings to the comfort of your words, his greatest comfort in the world is protecting people he loves, being there for someone. He’s still guilt ridden at letting his brother die for him but as long as he keeps living he’s living for Ace, honoring him, being there for him even if he’s gone.

And that’s what you say next, reading his mind. “What matters is that you’re alive. You didn’t let what he did for you go to waste, he’d be so proud of that. This is exactly what he wanted, yeah?” Your hands trace circles on Luffy’s back as you feel him relax very slowly.

“I’m so happy you’re still here,” you whisper right in his ear.

“Mhm…” Luffy’s lips find yours, hovering, just touching you. “I’m not letting you go, ‘kay?” His words are so deep and genuine. There’s heartache there but an impenetrable love, most of all. His arms are flexed around your body, he’s squeezing you and it’s almost uncomfortable but you have to let him right now.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You manage a smile which makes him smile too.

It seemed impossible for Luffy to get even more loving but he definitely was when you saw him again. You’re the one who’s getting it all, all the affection he wanted to give to his brother.

“You wanna hang out for a while?” You offer because you’re scared to let him sleep again. “It’s ok to stay up. If you’re tired tomorrow I’ll take a nap with you.”

He likes that idea. Maybe you’ll get something to eat, even take a walk on the deck if it’s not too cold. He just wants your company. He wants to spend as much time with you as he physically can to make up for everything and to show you how much love he has to give.

“I love you, mh, let’s stay up an’ hang out,” his words are quiet and gravelly from sleep and tears but what matters is he’s smiling now. He’s back to living in the moment tonight, and you’re his moment.

The next morning he’ll be completely back to himself. He’ll kiss you good morning but he’ll act like the night never happened, probably, because it’s nicer to be happy and enjoy the day. He has you, he knows everything’s going to be alright.

#luffy x reader angst #luffy x reader #one piece #luffy #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #luffy x gn!reader #luffy angst #one piece angst

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hearts4hughes · 14 days

Note

Hello! Can you do the prompts ❛ why are you avoiding me? ❜ ❛ don’t look at me like that. ❜ ❛ don’t push me away again. ❜ with Jack Hughes?

jack hughes x fem!reader | request post

“why are you avoiding me?” jack’s question hung in the air. his brows were furrowed. he looked sad-possibly even hurt.

my eyes were glued to the floor. i didn’t want to face the truth; i didn’t want to face my reality.

“i’m not avoiding you, jack. don’t be so full of yourself, not everything is about you.” i spat. my words hit him like a dagger to the chest.

jack hughes— my best friend and biggest crush. i tried so hard to convince myself that my feelings were merely platonic, but i knew i was kidding myself. the second i looked into his blue eyes i knew it was over for me. he’s like a whirlwind, sucking me into him more and more until i’m drowning.

“what’s gotten into you?” he retorts, disgust painting his features. he’s disgusted in me and i don’t even blame him. “who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” he stares deeply into my eyes. even with his harsh words, butterflies still flutter around in my stomach.

i clench my eyes shut. “don’t look at me like that.” i state. it physically hurt me to look at him knowing that he’ll never feel the same. knowing that i’m his best friend and that’s all i’ll ever be to him.

“like what, y/n?!” he raises his voice, lighting a fire inside of me.

“like you actually care about me more than a friend.” i retort.

his face drops as the realization hits him. his mouth moves, but nothing comes out.

i laugh in disbelief. “jack, i’ve been in love with you ever since i met you. i try to convince myself otherwise and i’m constantly in denial of it, but that’s the truth.” my voice cracks.

the echoes of my confession ring on deaf ears it appears. jack stands frozen with his mouth agape and eyes wide. i huff, spinning on my heels to leave the room when his hand clasps around my wrist.

“y/n, did you seriously think i haven’t been in love with you as well? i can’t believe i’m admitting this but i’ve been trying to drop repeated hints that i like you. i was too much of a pussy to confess my feelings for you and now i regret that.”

i open my mouth to say something, but the words get caught in my throat. with teary eyes, i pull him into a bone crushing hug, nuzzling my face into his neck.

“promise you won’t push me away again?” he asks into my shoulder. his lips leave kisses along my neck down to my shoulder.

“i promise.”

#nora’s writings 💐#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #new jersey devils

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floralpascal · 11 months

Text

Surprise

Summary: Lingerie drives John absolutely mad and you’ve been waiting to surprise him with the new set you bought…

Pairing: John Price x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.9k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: lingerie, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), riding that man the way he deserves to be ridden

A/N: Lingerie lover Price has been in my head for literal months and I’m so happy this is finally finished!

You didn’t know how long you’ve been laying here waiting for an opportunity. You knew it would come, it had to. The only question was, when?

You had seen your chance around thirty minutes ago. John had shed his black, oversized zip-up hoodie, leaving him in nothing but his matching sweatpants. As much as you loved drinking in his shirtless form in the pale midmorning light, you knew that you had to take the chance he unwittingly opened up by leaving his jacket unattended on the back of a kitchen chair. Distracted by some paperwork, John hadn’t noticed when you discreetly pulled the soft hoodie from the chair beside him.

Laying on your bed, the fluffy, oversized hoodie was now the only thing keeping you warm. You had traded your own warm clothes for the new set of lingerie you had bought months ago. The crimson lace set had sat in the bottom of your drawer ever since, awaiting the perfect time to reveal it to John. The zipper of the hoodie was drawn down just below your bra line, enough to tease what hid below and pontificate the fact that you were bare in every other way. While you were sure that showing off this much skin would more than capture the man’s attention, it was cold while you waited, the morning air frigid as it slipped through the opening of your stolen hoodie.

The hoodie smelled like him. Mahogany and ash, thick and heedy. You let it envelop you, basking in the smell of home. It was the same smell found on his side of the bed, the one that you would always savor when he was gone.

“Love?” John called from down the hall. “Love, where are you?”

You tried to tamp down your butterflies as you simply responded, “Bedroom!”

You heard the thuds of his footsteps as he made his way down the hallway, skin against hardwood. You readjusted on the bed so that he would have the perfect view from the doorway, your bare legs extended out in front of you and his hoodie positioned so that the crimson peeked out at the top and the bottom.

He called out from the hallway, “Have you seen my blue thumb drive? I’ve been lookin’ everywhere and I can’t find the bloody thi-”

John froze the moment he rounded the corner, his eyes landing on you with his mouth ajar and his arm frozen mid neck scratch. His attention slid from your face down your body, locking onto the burning red bra and underwear half-hidden by his own piece of clothing. He was frozen as he took you in, eyes wide.

It took every ounce of willpower you had to maintain a facade of innocence. Blinking up at him through your lashes as if nothing was amiss, you replied, “I think the thumb drive is on the coffee table.”

John’s eyes snapped up to yours, pupils already blown wide. In a mere second, he switched from the soft, domestic man that had made you breakfast that morning to a man starved. This was the John that wrecked you for hours on end, the John that you had so hoped to draw out with your little stunt. You burned under the intensity of his gaze, giddy adrenaline shooting through you.

Got him.

John slowly strode to the bed, his eyes never leaving your form. Wordlessly, he crawled onto the bed so that you had to lay down for him to climb over top of you. Every muscle in his upper body was pulled taut as he settled over you, one knee on either side of your thighs. He planted one hand on the mattress beside your head and hovered the other over your midsection, clearly holding himself back from touching you while he eyed the present displayed beneath him.

“I thought you needed that thumb drive?” You teased, your voice low and laced with excitement. It was impossible to hide it now, not with the way he was looking down at you like he wanted to absolutely devour you.

“I don’t give a damn about that thumb drive right now, baby, ‘n you know it,” he nearly whispered, the low timber of his voice sending another shot of adrenaline through your veins. He trailed his hand down your exposed chest, your skin pebbling in his wake. Slipping his hand down to the black hoodie that hugged your frame, he moved a bit of it out of the way so he could get a better view of your front. “I was wonderin’ where this went.”

You gave him a mischievously innocent smile again, tugging at the soft fabric and pretending like you were about to take it off. “Well, if you need it back I’ll just-”

“No,” he rushed, sincerity in both his tone and his eyes even though he knew for a fact you were only baiting him. He was stern as he ordered, “Keep it on.”

“Yes, sir.”

John’s eyes flicked up to yours, burning brighter than a thousand suns. You weren’t cold now. No, now you felt like you were on fire, ablaze under the intensity of his gaze. You knew exactly how to play him, exactly which buttons to push to get that look in his eyes that you now saw.

“You’re a damn minx, love,” he groaned. Focusing his attention on your midsection once again, he slowly tugged the zipper down, gradually baring more and more of your skin to him. Once it was undone, he moved the soft fabric to your sides, leaving nothing blocking his view of your form.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured reverentially, his eyes wide as he took you in. He ran his hand down your torso, reveling in the way you keened under his touch. Despite the growing heat, the glide of his calloused fingers against your soft skin gave you chills. His hands traveled everywhere, lightly grasping at every inch of your torso and thighs as he drank in every bit of you. His eyes were clouded with love and lust as he lowered himself down and pressed his lips to the exposed valley between your breasts.

“John…” you pleaded softly.

John moved down to your stomach, his lips pressing a slow, sensual trail down, down, down. One hand kneaded your side while the other opened your thighs wider for him. Soon enough, he was nestled between your thighs, his broad shoulders making you open wide for him. His hungry eyes flicked from the strip of barely-there crimson lace that covered your core to your eager face. One side of his mustache quirked up in a teasing smile.

“How long ‘ave you been waiting in here, baby?” He asked before hooking his pointer finger in your underwear to swipe through your folds. A full, satisfied smile bloomed on his face when he found you already dripping, enough that the inside of the underwear was already soaked. “Tha’ answers my question: a while.”

You bucked your hips against his hand as you rasped, “Please, John.”

“You’ve been so patient,” he cooed, continuing to run his finger up and down your slit. “You deserve it, all wrapped up for me like the most gorgeous present I’ve ever seen.”

“Just for you.”

He groaned at that, eyes raking over you spread out before him. “I’m the luckiest fuckin’ man.”

Without any further preamble, he slid a finger into you. It was slow at first, an unhurried slide in and a gradual slide out. Being soaking wet, it already wasn’t enough, only enough to tease you of more to come.

He looked up at you as he continued to pump in and out, seemingly trying to burn this image of you in his mind. When you whined, looking for more, simply added a second finger into your heat, mumbling, “Tha’s it, love.”

You grabbed the sheets beside your head with one hand, slowly arching your back so that John got a good look at your barely-covered chest. A groan ripped through him at the sight, his love for how your form looked in the tantalizing lingerie something you knew exactly how to fuel.

“So fuckin’ sexy,” he groaned, his voice even lower and more gravelly than normal. The combination of his lust-filled voice and his praise made you clench down on the two fingers moving slowly deep inside you.

Then, John pulled the thin lace panties even farther to the side, dipping his head down towards your core. No matter how many times you felt his tongue on you, you could never fully prepare to feel it again. He started where his fingers were sliding into you, the heat of his tongue sliding up, up, up until it found your clit. He circled the bundle of nerves slowly at first, his expert movements pulling a whine from you.

His beard scratched against your skin, surely to leave a beard burn for later like it had so many times before. But you couldn’t care. Right now, the feeling only added to the overwhelming pleasure that was building in your stomach.

Mouth moving in tandem with his fingers, he began to steadily increase his speed. Now, John did nothing short of devour you, the pace he set almost overwhelming. He worshiped you, his mouth showing you more than it could ever tell.

Your hand flew down to grasp at his soft brown hair, barely able to find enough to hold onto.

“John! Fuck, don’t stop, baby. Don’t–” you babbled, your sentence devolving into a moan.

John’s throaty groan sent shockwaves through you as he ground his hips against the bed, searching for his own relief. On any normal day, it would take a lot longer before he was this desperate, his self-control usually as strong as steel… until you eventually broke it. By the time he finally cracked – his need for you finally overtaking his self-control – he had already slowly and meticulously taken you apart and put you back together more times than you could count. But lingerie, you had found, shattered that self-control like it was glass almost immediately. Once his eyes landed on you, he was gone. There was no teasing, no edging, no slow buildup when he was like this. He needed you.

The coil that had been tightening in your stomach finally snapped, pleasure flooding your senses. You arched against John’s face, your thighs trapping him between them. Unbothered, he simply continued to wreck you, working you through the high as your muscles jumped at each swipe of his tongue.

“Fuck!” you heaved. You lightly tugged on his light brown strands of hair as you released him from your thighs. Taking the hint, he pulled his fingers from you before trailing kisses up your body. When his lips finally met yours, he quickly slipped his tongue past your lips.

Trailing a hand over the front of his soft sweatpants, you found him hard and straining against the material. John groaned against your lips at the pressure before pushing up to shed his pants and boxers, tossing the garments carelessly to the floor. His cock was red and already weeping as he fisted himself a few times, his eyes raking over you hungrily.

“Wish you could see how fuckin’ beautiful you look, love,” he lamented as he leaned down to you again. “Had me about to come in my boxers like I’m a bloody teenager again.”

You hummed, letting him settle his hips between your thighs once again. “Then we wouldn’t get to my favorite part,” you quipped. “Maybe I should tone it down a little then.”

John guided his cock through your folds before he finally began to push in, inch by glorious inch, the stretch pulling a moan from you. He whispered, “You’ll get it. You’ll take every bit of me just like you wanted.”

Clawing your fingers into the soft flesh of his back, you tried to relax as you acclimated to his size. The few testing thrusts he made added fuel to the fire already ablaze in the pit of your stomach. There he was, deep inside you and yet all you wanted — all you needed — was more. You needed more of him, needed everything he could give you.

You leaned up and kissed his collarbone, silently letting him know that you were ready. Then, John fulfilled your every wish, almost as if he had been reading your mind.

He pressed up so that he hovered above you, eyes glassy with lust as he took you in beneath him before he drew himself out of you and promptly snapped his hips to yours once again. He took in every one of your movements — the way you rocked with the force of his thrust, the way you pushed against the bed as you moaned his name — almost as if he was searing the sight into his brain. It would be a warm memory for him to take with him when he would inevitably be called away to some place on the other side of the world, a memory to keep him warm on some cold, lonely night. Hell, it would be for you, too.

He built up to a bruising pace, one that stole the air from your lungs. All you could do was let yourself be swept away in the tidal waves of ecstasy.

John. John. John. That’s all there was.

A rough, calloused hand slid up your stomach to knead at the plush of your covered breast. Through the thin lace, his fingers played with your nipple, his touch electric.

“Tha’s it, baby. Tha’s it…”

“Fuck!” You moaned.

If you had any sense left, you would’ve wondered how John could have the inhuman stamina that he fucked you with now. No normal man could ever hold the pace that he slammed his hips into yours over and over again. White hot pleasure burned in your veins, your moans flowing free as he wrecked you.

You danced at the edge of your orgasm for what felt like forever, every one of John’s grunts in your ear bringing you closer and closer to the finish line. Finally, with a particularly rough slam of his hips into yours, you tumbled over that precipice, free-falling in pure ecstasy.

John fucked you through it, allthewhile mumbling breathy words of encouragement. “Ju’s like tha’. Come for me, beautiful.”

As you came down, you found John chasing his own high. Despite your current state, you couldn’t help but want to show off one last time to help bring him the same pleasure you had just found.

“John… John, wanna ride you.”

Stark blue eyes snapped open to find yours, lust completely consuming his every feature. There was nothing he loved more than the sight of you riding him on a normal day, let alone one where you were dressed in the thing that drove him wild. For the second time that day, you knew you had him in the palm of your hand.

Soon, he was seated on the bed and you were throwing your leg over his hip before sinking back down onto him again. Finally free to roam, his strong, steady hands kneaded at your thighs, your ass, your hips as he took in the sight of you above him like a man starved.

As you began to move your hips, John’s grip on you tightened. With his head in a particularly ideal spot, hot lips lavished your collarbone, teeth nipping as he made his way down the valley of your breasts.

You sped up the movement of your hips, his hips beginning to move in time with yours. Suddenly, he pulled the both of you down so that he was laying back on the bed with you over top of him, the sides of your hoodie falling over his chest. From this position, he was able to plant his feet to fuck up into you as you rode him.

As you both continued to build back up to a punishing pace, John threw his head back, his eyes squeezed shut as he groaned out a strained, “Fuck! F-fuckin’ - ah - ‘ell!”

John wasn’t a quiet man in bed by any means, but he didn’t usually yell out like this unless he was completely lost in you. It was a telltale sign that he was almost there.

“Come for me, John,” you moaned. “Give it to me, baby. Fill me up.”

With a deep groan, John roughly grabbed your hips and fucked into you as deep as he could. Hot cum coated your walls as he slowly fucked it into you. The strong muscle of his stomach jumped under you as he emptied everything he had, his breath ragged.

His eyes were squeezed shut beneath you, closed from the force of his orgasm. Slowly, you leaned down and kissed him lightly. His eyes fluttered open only long enough to find you, curl his hand over the back of your head, and pull you down for a proper, heated kiss.

I love you, it said. Unmistakably: I love you.

“I think you got a little sidetracked from your work,” you laughed.

John chuckled, sarcastically rolling his eyes. “I think you’ve cleared my schedule for the day, you bloody gorgeous minx.”

“Is that so? You must really like the red lace.”

Slowly, he guided his hoodie down your arms and tossed it to the side.

“I do…” John whispered in your ear.

His fingers ghosted up your back before unhooking your bra and tossing it carelessly to the floor just as he had done with the hoodie, leaving your chest bare.

“But I like you more.”

#john price #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price #cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 headcanons #barry sloane #captain john price x reader #cod #call of duty #my writing

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ichorai · 5 months

Text

airbag ; steve rogers.

track one of OK COMPUTER.

pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

words ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?

warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)

main masterlist.

Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there.

It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.

Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too.

Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old.

It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight.

Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”

And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.

Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.

During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.

Will you marry me?

And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.

To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay.

“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.

You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.

Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.

The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.

Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.

“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”

There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.”

Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”

Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”

There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”

Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words.

“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”

“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”

She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”

Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.

Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.

Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.

“I packed us sandwiches.”

“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car.

“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”

Steve arched a brow. “Like?”

“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”

Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead.

The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got.

The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.

And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again.

Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward.

Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills.

He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”

When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”

Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs.

The proposal would have to wait another day, then.

He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”

“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.

He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.

Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”

“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”

You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next.

“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.

“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”

Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”

The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often.

Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.

It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.

He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.

And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you.

To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut.

With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead.

The proposal would have to wait another day.

Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come.

And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.

“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.

When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.

The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.

You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…

And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?

“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.

A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Did Natasha tell you?”

Tony snorted. “We all know.”

“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”

“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”

Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question.

Or was it?

“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”

With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”

Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests.

Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.

“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”

And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again.

Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?

He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.

His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music.

Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy.

“Sandy?”

“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”

“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”

“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?”

With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.

“Honey, I gotta go.”

Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”

“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”

It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip.

The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.

A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve.

He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric.

But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.

“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything.

“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”

Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”

His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.

“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”

Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”

You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut.

“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.

“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.

“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”

Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.

Should he? Now, when he had the chance?

“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on.

Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.

“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”

Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.

“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.

A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears.

Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.

“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”

Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother.

A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief.

“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone.

“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”

Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”

Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”

The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.

“You ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—

But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.

“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head.

Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”

Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.

And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it.

The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe.

“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.

You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.

When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers drabbles #steve rogers ff #steve rogers x you

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hischierswhore · 2 months

Note

Can you write about Luke Hughes being in a long-time relationship with a girl who is a figure skater, she goes to a competition where she wins first place and he is there with his parents supporting her, so a couple of days later when he is doing press someone asks him about it and he is like a proud boyfriend speaking about how he feels and how his family supports her too. Please, I love your writing.💕

gold medalist

pairing: luke hughes x figure skater!reader

a/n: my first fic for an NHL player! i haven't written a fic in a WHILE so i hope this is decent. also thank u anon <3

You were currently competing in the 2024 World Figure Skating Championship in Montreal. Your parents sadly were unable to make the event, the biggest event you've even been part of. Luckily for you, your boyfriend Luke and his parents had come to support you.

They looked beyond excited to watch you perform, especially Luke, who had never seen you perform before due to his hectic schedule. They were extremely supportive and could barely contain their excitement during your performance. It was moving and you looked so elegant as you glided across the ice so effortlessly.

Finally, the competition had ended and the results were ready to be revealed. You listened and applauded as the other competitors' names were called for 2nd and 3rd place, which made the butterflies in your stomach even worse. You thought you did great, but you'd also seen your competitors perform, and you were taken aback by their beautiful performances, leaving you to think that you didn't place at all.

"And the winner of the 2024 World Figure Skating Championship is... Y/N L/N!" The announcer shouted as the entire arena jumped up with cheers.

You had not processed the words that just came out of the announcers mouth. You were frozen, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you stood in the middle of the ice. You snapped out of your daze, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks as you took it all in. You did it. You did the damn thing.

"Thank you everyone! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am so happy! This is such a surreal moment. I can't believe any of this is happening" You exclaimed as the announcer handed you the microphone and the judges had given you flowers and your gold medal.

Moments later, you were free to meet up with Luke and his parents. The second they saw you, Luke ran to you and carried you into his arms. He held you tight and kissed your head repeatedly.

"Y/N, baby, I'm so proud of you. I love you so much, don't ever doubt yourself" He said to you, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I won't. I promise" You replied, kissing him gently on the lips.

His parents soon approached you and they were both cheering as loudly as possible for their daughter-in-law.

"Y/N we are so proud of you honey! You deserve this, you really do. Congratulations" Luke's mother said as she hugged you tightly. She pulled back and wiped away the tears from her face.

"Now go get changed! We're going to celebrate tonight!" Luke's father added as he walked off to tell everyone else about your win.

A few days later, you were back in New Jersey, seeing as Luke had a game and you had never failed to miss a single one since you started dating all those years ago.

Luke was currently doing press while you were at your shared apartment tidying up before you headed to the game. You turned on the tv to watch the press conference while you cleaned.

You were in the process of cleaning the counter when you looked at the tv to find your own image on the screen, along with Luke and his parents.

"Luke we have to ask. Your amazingly talented girlfriend Y/n recently competed in the World Figure Skating Championship and won the first place prize. What was going through your head in that moment when her name was called?" A reporter asked the 6'2 man, holding her mic towards him.

"Well, I just felt nothing short of complete pride. My beautiful girlfriend competed magnificently and did the most amazing job she possibly could. There was no question in my mind that she would take home first place, she deserved every bit of that trophy. I am so proud of her. Her dedication to the sport and hard work really paid off and it was very rewarding to witness. I'm so glad I got to be there with her to cheer her on. It's moments like these that remind me how lucky I am to have her" Luke responded confidently.

The reporters questions continued as he began asking more specific questions about your relationship and how things were between you two now.

You smiled when you heard him say 'my beautiful girlfriend', 'lucky I am' and 'her dedication'. You couldn't help but feel extremely loved when he spoke like that about you. He was so genuine, and it showed through everything he did and said.

"One final question Luke. We saw that your parents were there to help you cheer Y/n on from the stands. What did they think about Y/n's win?" The reporter then asked him.

"My parents were ecstatic. They had such an awesome time watching her compete. Mom couldn't stop telling me how incredibly happy she was, and dad said it was absolutely perfect. They know how much effort Y/n puts into skating, and they were able to experience that firsthand. That night was a special one, and they told me how lucky I am to have found someone like Y/n and be able to share moments like that with them. That will definitely be a night I'll never forget." Luke stated happily.

Once the interview concluded, you watched the footage with a huge smile on your face. You were feeling rather giddy inside as you remembered that evening, especially when Luke had placed his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, whispering something in your ear.

Your heart skipped a beat when he mentioned how lucky he was to have found someone like you, and how special it was to share moments like that with you. You loved hearing how affectionate he was with you, knowing full well that not many men actually showed that kind of emotion towards their girlfriends or wives.

It made you fall deeper and deeper in love with him each day, despite the fact that you were already head over heels for him. It made your feelings grow stronger, making you want to spend every waking moment with him and wake up next to him each morning.

TAGLIST

@lovelynikol16

if you'd like to be added to the taglist, pls leave a comment <3

#✎ natalie writes #luke hughes #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfic

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scorpioriesling · 7 days

Text

Ideal Mate + Ideal Date HC

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand / Cassian / Azriel / Lucien / Eris / Tamlin

Warnings: fluff, some light allusions to smut and brief suggestive scenes, light swearing

Summary: Headcannons/drabbles for (my idea!) what the "ideal" mate for each character is, with an ideal date for the two of them as well.

SR’s Note: Just another little idea I had, pls don't hate on me <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand

You would have to catch his eye because you're "different" in some way from other females

Whether it is because you are human, you are creative, you are undeniably brave and don't care who sees it... he is enraptured by you

All of these things intimidate him a little bit, which is why he has to learn about you from afar first before he can finally meet you

He is so nervous when he finally introduces himself, but unashamedly peers inside your head to see if you're even the least bit intrigued in him as he is by you

He's glad he did, and had nothing to worry about; you've fallen at first sight

He makes a point to learn things you like; he has tried to teach himself how to paint, but gets frustrated that it is one of the only things he can't master

He already asked you for an evening by the sidra to paint and have a picnic; too early, though as now he is realizing he is no good at the skill you excel in

"I just want you to know, painting isn't something I'm very talented in doing..."

You get butterflies realizing the most powerful and dangerous High Lord could be so nervous on a first date with a human female

"Allow me to help you, then."

He melts when your fingers hold his on the brush, only using one canvas as you paint a picture together instead of two separate ones

He can barely focus, your jasmine scent so close as you sit side by side on the soft grass by the river in the moonlight. He's not even focusing on the painting, but on your side profile instead, so intrigued in your work, the way your brows furrow in concentration

The moonlight illuminates the soft freckles on your nose; he wants to lean in and kiss each one of them

"No wonder you do not paint very well; you don't seem to have a strong sense of focus," you smirk

Cassian

He didn't want to like you when he met you, but somehow... he couldn't help himself

Your icy stare, the way you carried yourself, your strong sense of independence... you made it clear you didn't want any man

But he wanted you

At first he didn't know how to act around you, usually the fae he took interest in were kind and welcoming... but you had a bite that would send every male in Prythian screaming. He wasn't sure how to make you like him

He tried kindness; he earned a scowl. He tried buying you things; another sour look. He even tried inviting you to things, so you'd feel less isolated; all that got him was rejection, every time. Finally, he'd had enough

"What is it with you? Why won't you let anyone in? I get it, your family sucks, but-"

"Oh, please. You know nothing about me or my family." You'd spat

"Yeah! You're right, I don't," he heaves. "I don't... you don't tell me. You don't let a single person in. You don't talk to me, or tell me anything, or," he huffs a laugh. "Gods, I mean. You wouldn't step back and realize that someone cares so much for you, or see that I've just been trying to get you to love me back all along!" He'd throw his hands in the air, and they'd fall to his sides

You stand there, frozen in shock. You really could not believe what you were hearing, coming from Cassian, of all people

One minute, you're contemplating how to go about all this. Then, the next minute, you're not thinking at all

You're closing the distance, two steps at a time, throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips onto his. His large hands grasp your waist, holding you tight to him

You pull away and stare up into his wide, hazel eyes, boring into yours in utter disbelief

"Y/N... I can't do this if you're not serious about-"

"Take me out then. I'll show you just how serious I can be." His chest rises and falls, and he just shakes his head and lets out a suprised chuckle

"You'd really go out with me?" He asks, playfully. You roll your eyes in response, your usual irritation returning to your face

"Rita's in 30." You pull away from him and saunter off toward your room in the House of Wind, feeling his gaze on your swaying hips. You were already planning out a rather scandalous outfit for tonight, involving a tiny red dress hanging in your closet...

"You better stop staring at my ass, Cassie, or I might just change my mind." You call over your shoulder. He prectically clutches his chest with his hand

You were going to be the death of him

Azriel

Hear me out -- Azzie is attracted to someone who is originally viewed as very naive and harmless, but has a confident and brave side as well

He would see you from afar, wearing a pretty dress, a big bow in your hair while you walk along the streets in Velaris with your friends

Your smile has this man blushing!! and he doesn't even know you yet, but he knows he must have you

"You okay man?" Cassian asks, and Azriel cooly plays it off as being too hot in the mid-day sun. Cassian just gives a confused "whatever", but Rhysand says nothing as he knows exactly what is happening here

"I need a drink, and since Azriel is so warm," Rhysand side eyes his friend, smirking. Azriel immediately starts sweating. He knows Rhys is up to something, and Azriel has been casually observing you the whole morning that he's been in Velaris. You'd just gone into the small coffee shop, the one adorned with peonies outside; one Rhys was guiding the group of bat boys closer to. "...why don't we stop in here for some refreshments?"

He thinks his heart is going to fall out of his ass right now. He couldn't go in there -- you were already in there, and he was in no position to be talking to you right now

"Rhys, I uh, I don't know if I want coffee right now," he stutters quietly. Rhys chuckles, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Cassian looks between the two, still confused

"Ohhhhh Az," he sighs. "I'm sure they have water in there, and I am rather thirsty myself. Say, Cassian looks parched too -- why don't you go in and get us three waters, hmm?" Rhysand asks. Azriel glares at Rhys

"I know. What. You're doing." He says, voice clipped. Cassian scrunches his face behind the two of them.

"I mean, I'll go in and get 'em, I am kinda hot now that you mentioned the sun-" Cassian starts. Rhys puts a hand up, stopping his Illyrian friend and shaking his head. A wicked smile plays on his lips.

"No no, Azriel said he would go. We'll just wait outside..." He slinks over to a small table, and Cassian plops down in a chair, seeming to ask Rhys what was going on. The High Lord only stares between Azriel and the front door, silently ushering him to go inside. Azriel growls, forcing one foot in front of the other before he is finally opening the door and entering the small shop

The scent of roasting coffee beans and vanilla cream wafts through the air, the smell intoxicaitng and fresh. It only takes Azriel a moment to spot you, the blue and ivory sundress hugging you stunningly and the cream bow a stark contrast against your rich, flowing hair. He glances toward the window, and meets the eyes of both Rhysand and Cassian. Cassian gives him a cheesy thumbs up, and Azriel rolls his eyes as he heads towards the front counter. You're at the other end, waiting on your order

"Hi! How may I help you?" The cheery older woman behind the counter greets him. He can barely focus on anything, let alone the fae in front of him engaging in conversation when you're closer than you've been all day to him

"Three waters..." he says. The older lady follows his line of sight, a small smile pulling at her lips as she begins to chuckle

"I'll have those right out for you," hes still staring, and she shakes her head, continuing to smile at him. "Her name is Y/N."

This snaps him out of his daze. He looks to the cashier once more. "Y/N?" He repreats. The name has never sounded so lovely. Maybe it wouldn't have, but now he knows it belongs to you. The woman nods her head

"Yes, Shadowsinger." His lips part, but no words come out. "And, she is here every day around lunch time. Unwed. So... I'd suggest you go over there and do something about that, hmm?" Azriel can't hide the heat on his cheeks as the woman winks at him, turning to get working on a few orders. That was his turn to walk away, walk over to you...

As he approaches your side in the waiting area, his breath quickens. He can't help but notice you're alone, your friends have gone outside and oh-so-conveniently struck up a conversation with his two brothers.

Bastards.

"I don't think I've ever waited this long for a drink from here in my life," you say quietly, chuckling at the end. He only blinks, not sure if what he was hearing was true. Were you really speaking to him?

He turns to you, only to find you already gazing up at him. He can't help but smile, revealing his perfect teeth as he fumbles for what to say back

"Do you, come here? Often?" He asks. He already knew the answer, but...

"Almost every day!" You beam. "And you?"

He shakes his head. "First time in."

You nod slowly. "Oh... my. Well, I hope you've tried something delicious for your first experience." You grace him with another small grin, and he feels like he might melt at the sight. He hadn't realized how close you'd stepped, or maybe he had? Only mere inches separated-

"Three waters!" The cashier calls, setting down the three glasses in front of Azriel. His cheeks heat as he stares at them, the wide-eyed expression from his new crush not going unnoticed. It isn't long before the most lovely sound is filling his ears though.

You were giggling beside him.

"Oh... my..." you say between breaths. Azriel sighs, leaving the three cups on the counter and facing you. He can't help but let loose a chuckle himself, and your cheeks redden at the sight of him

"Well, it seems I'll need to come back and actually try something next time..." He says. You continue to giggle, trying hard to calm down and peer down at the floor, shaking your head.

"Hey, I've got a lot of great suggestions, but..." the cashier silently sets down your drink in front of you, and you pick it up. "...plain water maybe isn't one of them." You grin. Azriel grabs his water, taking a long swig and you wished that perhaps it was you on his lips instead-

You turned to walk toward the door, your new companion keeping up with you and holding the door open for you to exit. You open your mouth to thank him, but he beats you to it

"Maybe you can show me what you'd suggest? Next time?" Your wide eyes gaze up at him, his hazel ones squinting in the midday sun. The breeze lightly brushes his black hair across his tanned forehead, and you try really hard to supress the grin spreading across your face

"I'd meet you here tomorrow, but;" you hesitate. "Well, uh, I have ring training tomorrow at this time... but maybe the day following?" You look at him sheepishly. He looks as if he is ready to fall to his knees in front of you

"I'll be here, the day following." You rise on your tippy toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before skipping off to meet your friends. His eyes trail after you, his cheek tingling from where your lips made contact. He doesn’t register his brothers rising from the table and approaching him

“So uh… where are our drinks, Az?”

Lucien

Classic, but Lucie is going to fall for someone (kind of like Az) who is very soft and kind but can also hold her own

He is also going to rizz the shit out of you... but I feel like that is already a given

I feel like he would actually meet you in the Day Court when he's there on an assignment, and you'd be one of Helion's advisor's daughters and he would immediately be drawn to you

The gold and white dress and accessories you'd appeared in... oh he's down bad

He saw you at first in a group setting, not really being able to keep his eyes off of you but then later he spotted you near a pond of sunlight and couldn't walk away

He was walking closer, and noticed you actually weren't alone but were actually comforting a small child who appeared upset near the pool's edge. The boy stood, peering down at you on your knees as you ran your thumbs across his cheeks. Lucien leaned against a nearby tree, not wanting to interrupt, but also so intrigued by the scene in front of him

"There is no need to worry, sweetheart," your tender words pulled at something deep in Lucien's chest, though you weren't speaking to him at all. The little one sniffled and nodded, staring deep into your eyes. "I know it is frightening when we are lost, but look," you give the boy an award winning smile and Lucien feels like his heart is singing for you already. "...I've found you, and you're safe here! You know?" You say. He reaches out his little arms and braces them around your neck, hands tangling in your cascade of curls. You pull him in close, not letting go until he does

You take his precious fingers in yours, and he walks closely beside you as you make your way back to the palace. "Now, let's go find your mommy, okay honey?"

Lucien swears he could cry, hes never seen anyone so kind and gentle. He couldn't imagine having someone like that to love, and made the decision then that he would be introducing himself to you later that evening, properly

And when he does... ohhhh he charms you. It wasn't hard for you to fall for Lucien as quickly as he fell for you; he practically screamed "husband material"

He'd taken you on many dates, but the one that was the most special was when he brought you to a waterfall on horseback, just before sunset. He tied your shared horse to a tree, and led you to a small alcove where a small picnic was pre-set, the sunset streaming through the falling water just right (thank you, Helion). Apple pie, roasted turkey, and autumnal wine adorned the small blanket, as well as a little golden box in the middle. Your hand flew to your mouth

"I know the sunset and these falls make you who you are in the Day Court," Lucien says sheepishly as he guides you to the spread. You take your seats and he doesn't let go of your hand. "I wanted to show you a little bit of what makes me who I am too..." he trails off. You can't help the silver lining your eyes as you take in the scene around you

"Autumn and Day... who would've thought." You smile at him, and he reaches for the box. Opening it, he pulls out a thin golden necklace with a sun symbol on it.

"I love you to great lengths, Y/N," You only then notice as he is unclasping it that he already adorns one of the same around his neck.

"I don't want to leave you, or this place anymore," he says, reaching behind your neck to fasten the clasp. He breathes in your hibiscus scent, and his fingers trail down the side of your cheek. You can't help but let a tear slip free, realizing you'd never have to say goodbye again

"I won't ever leave you, or this court, again."

Eris

You caught the attention of Eris because you were plain

Literally

Eris was so excited (but, confused?) because he'd never genuinely loved a female beyond his sexual encounters, then he'd met you and you'd absolutely ruined everyone else for him

You were overlooked by everyone, which made you feel horrible most of your life, but Eris treated you like a queen, and he appreciated your simplicity and liked how uncomplicated you were

You were not even High Fae; which didn't go over well with Beron, but Eris didn't care. You made him feral. He'd kill his own father for you if it meant spending the rest of eternity with you.

His father was always trying to marry him off with other High Fae or noble females, but they were always too much to handle or too bratty and stuck up to Eris

He also didn't appreciate his father telling him who he would be allowed to chose and who he couldn't

But boy oh boy, did he choose you

He liked to keep your outings private, so no one would be able to swoop in and ruin the time you had together

But, that did not stop him from going all out for you and giving you all of the things you did not get to indulge in

He definately used his status to his advantage...

Your favorite date to go on -- a repeat date, as it was a shared favorite -- was to the orchard. Eris would spoil you by taking you shopping the day prior (you'd almost always choose a crimson or maroon sundress with matching flats) for a new outfit, and you'd wear said outfit the next day

You'd always wear one of his rings, though the two of you were not yet properly mated, and the sight of it made him weakkkkk I am telling you weak

He'd reserve the orchard for the day, and the two of you would ride on the wagon, share warm cider, and walk along the treelines as you both did when you were just young children

Obviously there would be apple picking, and he'd purposefully wander near a tree with ones dangling higher than you could grasp

"Eris, I can't-" you huff, stretching an arm up and dancing on your tip toes in search of the hanging fruit on a branch out of your reach. His eyes would wander, taking in your bare legs as your short dress rode up higher on your thighs-

Ughhhhh, this is not the place, Eris

"Allow me, my love." He would bend down, hiking you up on his shoulder and standing at his full height, arm bent and wrapped around your knees as you sat atop his shoulderblade. You'd wobble a bit, but, now you could reach the Honeycrisp you'd been going for.

Reaching toward branch, you grab on and yank. Seeing it glimmering in the warm September sun, you can't help but to bite into it, a satisfying crunch as a tiny drop of juice trails from the corner of your lips. A satisfied "hmmm" escapes your throat as you close your eyes, but the male beneath you catches on to what you're doing

"Heyyy," Eris slides you off his shoulder, hands firmly gripping your hips and gently setting you on your feet. Your spun around to face him, and he smirks down at you. Your now wide eyes stare into his amber ones as he leans in, licking the drop near your mouth and then leaning in close to your ear

His breath was warm on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as goosebumps appeared on your arms. His warm hands trailed up and down your upper arms, his voice low and husky. "These are for picking -- I thought we could eat... later..."

Tamlin

So... stay with me here on this one. Tam Tam is getting a mate that has a power dynamic that is going to absolutely match his okay

Whatever energy you give me, I'm matching it... that is the dynamic that this duo is giving here

Also... I feel like after Feyre, he would pull a complete 180 and be with someone who would put him in his place from the very beginning

His previous relationship really messed him up, but after he healed from that... he absolutely changed for the better I feel like. I think he would be with someone who would keep him in check, remind him when he's acting out, and almost maybe scare him a little? Kind of like Cassian and his ideal mate lol

Except... his ideal girlie would also be maybe just a tad unhinged

Just like him

It's alright... we love to see it

Anyways

His mate would be very modernly beautiful, I feel like; what comes to mind when you think of "society's beautiful". Not fake, however. Just very blessed, and just born this way -- lucky her! Lol

This, of course, caught Tamlin and the entirety of the Spring Court's eye

He was not very intimidated by his ideal mate, at first, but when he got to know you a little bit better, he wanted to do everything right and not screw anything up like last time

If he did mess up, or do things that were genuinely wrong or out of line... oh did he hear about it. You definitely kept him in check

Yet, another reason the Spring Court loved you

He did get easily jealous of other males, High Fae and lesser faeries alike for looking at you too long, talking to you, and fawning over you of course

Who wouldn't?

He'd wrap his arm around you a little tighter when in public, or kiss you literally right on the mouth in the middle of the square if people were staring at you for longer than he'd like

But, you honestly didn't care. You reveled in it, the attention you got from others, which in turn, drove him wild and would lead to his posessiveness of you taking over-

Phew... yeah uhm

Dating... he wouldn't even bother making dates private. He liked showing you off, even though other guys looking at you made him nuts

You liked public dates, because you liked to be shown off, and again, his posessiveness was so sexy and would usually lead to a great time (in PRIVATE, of course) once the nice lil date was over

You'd make it even better by wearing something fun for him when he'd take you out. Let's say... dinner, for example

You'd start sitting across the booth from each other, both recieving polite hello's and compliments from every faerie who passed your table. You'd of course return them; one thing he'd picked up from you was your politeness and manners

After a little while of spending time together and him gazing into your eyes, he'd seem a little... distracted... and slip into the same side of the booth with you instead, just to be closer to you

It didn't really help his case, but he really liked the smell of wildflower and honey that seemed to radiate from you

He'd have one arm around your shoulders, tracing small circles on your skin with his finger and you’d giggle because it tickled

But it also distracted you from his other hand slowly tracing up your thigh...

...and under your short, oh so short skirt...

Finally, you'd caught onto what he was doing and sat up straight, the corset top you'd expertly paired with this outfit for this reason alone doing you justice as his gaze flicked down to where it curved low below your collarbone. A soft growl graced the shell of your ear, and you only chuckled as his hot breath tickled the side of your neck

"You didn't put anything on under this... did you?"

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