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driftwoodthrone · 2 years

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As promised, I'm gonna make them a thing @ktlsyrtis ;)

DI Jill Raymond/Professor Helen Lynley AU

Two sharp knocks on Helen's door jolts her slightly out of concentration, as Jill Raymond's blonde head peeks over the threshold of her office. The imposing detective strides in without preamble, in her crisp white shirt and fitted trousers, and sits on the edge of Helen's desk with little regard for the papers strewn about. Holds up the coffee in her hand as a peace offering.

"Got a minute, Lady Helen?" Jill asks, beckoning the brunette's attention, giving way to a privately held joke between them.

Helen rolls her eyes derisively at the posh title. Frankly, she's glad to be rid of it and Tommy⁠ — surviving a near-fatal gunshot wound does wonders for sorting out one's priorities, she thought.

The scar at the centre of her breastbone is a stark reminder of the life she's left behind.

And although it didn't need saying or counting, she owes Jill an enormous favour after her divorce and an endless string of kindness for refusing to leave her side as she recuperated from surgery. So Helen lets the title go, lets it mean something different between them, knowing her dearest friend loved to get a rise out of her.

"Jillian," Helen greets with a saccharine smile, a name reserved only for herself and Jill's mum, it sticks like toffee on her tongue. She wraps her fingers around the steaming cup of coffee, and welcomes the interruption, especially when it's Jill's handsome face. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Helen hums gratefully as she takes a sip. "Have you finally come to sit in on my lecture?"

"Not today, I'm afraid. I thought I might borrow your expertise though?" Jill dangles a case file in her hand and pretends to look sorry for dropping by unannounced, but Helen sees a hint of that wolfish grin. Jill doesn't care a jot about her office hours, and if she did the woman would pick up her damn mobile phone.

Helen lets the request hang in the air, and buys herself several agonizing seconds by sorting through the mountain of grading on her desk, before coming back around to Jill's expectant face inching closer towards her. "So, you did come to learn something new, Detective," Helen teases.

Jill crowds her and a flicker of desire glazes over the detective's eyes as they trail towards soft inviting lips. It's the only evidence of Helen's effect on her, and it's gone in an instant as she leans forward to bop Helen on the head with the file.

"Get a shift on, Professor," Jill says impatiently, and the brunette gawps at her for the cheek. "I've got a murder to solve."

Helen pouts. She was rather hoping to be plied with kisses for her keen intellect, but she knows Jill is dreadfully restrained during her working hours. There was no wearing her down, she's tried.

She swaps the coffee for the folder in Jill's hand and opens it on her lap. Jill offers her reading glasses with practiced ease and takes a large gulp from the same cup as Helen scans the suspect list.

She was starting to think she worked for the Greater London Police at how frequently Jill sought out her professional opinion. It's Jill who takes a certain delight in picking Helen's brain, involving her in small, quiet ways in the investigation — as long as she's never actually on scene (lesson learned), and Jill is quite firm on that matter.

Secretly, she enjoys it too — cracking a case, bringing justice to the surface, becoming Jill's unwitting partner in crime (solving) as they've done since they were girls in uni fighting their way up the ladder. Although they had wound up choosing different career paths, they had never forgotten to pull each other up.

Jill screws her face into an imperceptible smirk to save her blushes before rising to circle Helen's chair. She tugs at her waistcoat to smooth out her appearance and school her features as she flips open a packet of mints from her coat pocket.

"I will require dinner, for the consult," Helen says nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow to hint at the double meaning with a wicked sparkle in her eyes.

Jill coughs and splutters at the suggestion, and Helen's pleased to see the nearly unflappable detective fidget in her seat.

She doesn't waste the opportunity to turn dinner into breakfast, slipping Jill's glasses off her face to hang them at the crux of the blonde's waistcoat, a familiar intimacy that pushes and pulls at the seams of their friendship.

There's a moment where they're idle, waiting for the other to have the last word. Jill is helpless to the gravity between them, she turns Helen around in her seat to lean forward on the armrest, framing the other woman between her arms. Helen's breath hitches as their noses brush, barely a whisper between them, and a flush works its way up Helen's delicious neck.

Jill's eyes remain trained on Helen's own growing dark, stirring at the heightened state between them. Hearts pounding in unison, they are two sides of the same coin, immovable and unyielding.

"You do drive a hard bargain."

#di jill raymond #helen lynley #berena #jill x helen #rrcmv #new expansion pack #and a ficlet!#i live here now #jill/helen as recent divorcees and long-standing friends who went to uni together and are now maybe definitely engaging in #no-strings attached casual sex against their better judgement b/c she's alive and they're both single for the first time in years #jill would absolutely be sick of tommy's bs and putting helen's life in danger (again)#follow this blog for more fictional ships that do not exist lmao #*#my fics #*hc

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bravewolfvesperia · 3 months

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🌙 Transgressor Yuri moodboard. 🌙

#{ muse info + headcanons }#/ i think abt him. a lot. so if any of u have a crestoria verse. please. write with me.#let him free. release him into the world.#i am also keeping the lower quarter in this verse generally speaking hence its place here #aaaand also to be clear on the exact weapon in the bottom left it's his Second Star #versus the implication of getting a blood sin weapon on the right #both placed on the sides of the respective relationships bc Second Star #canonically relates to his relationship with flynn and blood sins can only be acquired through vicious #which is perfect bc i intend for yuri to be working with vicious (and kanata and co) indirectly #it all fell together very nicely n_n #and aside from any threads with any vicious-muns since it's not my place to determine how they write their muse with my muse #(and they can do this with me too if agreed upon!) i do plan to have vicious heavily integrated into yuri's story #will also be chaotic and beautiful bc two emotionally intelligent fuck-alls who are here to cause problems on purpose #while also calling themselves the worst possible things ever while continuing to be awesome stand up ppl #also you can't tell me flynn and vicious don't have this lawful versus lawless thing going on here #you don't even need tug o' war when you have tug o' yuri #believe me if i had enough energy to write a damn fic for this verse for yuri and those two i WOULD #feat aegis. bc. the lawless chaotics require their knightly boyfriends for a double date. lots of double dates #the rest of their fucking LIVES will be double dates and they're going to LIKE it. probably. mostly.#anyway namco threw this perfectly wonderful opportunity away and it's mine now im not giving it back >:/

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cityandking · 9 months

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dai/zaref (& ozy) + pacific rim au. 1.7k

He finds Zaref in the command hub, already hooked into comms, eyes half glazed that way he gets when he’s processing the endless stream of incoming information. Scratch sits next to him, chair twisting this way and that as she types away at her tablet, muttering numbers under her breath. Zaref looks almost peaceful by comparison, slight twitch of his mouth the only thing to belie his worry. Daichi stills a moment to watch him, a pillar stood still and solid in the churning mess of the command center. He makes the same picture he always makes, and it gives Daichi pause the way it always does.

Then one of the Jaeger techs brushes past him, close enough to nearly knock shoulders, and he steps into the slipstream of the chaos.

"Hello.” He’s almost on top of him before Zaref looks up, startled by his nearness. The twins are there too, half watching and half playing some kind of finger-count game. He ignores them for the most part, used to their eyes and the air of judgment they exude. Whatever early-days familiarity they have with Zaref, it doesn’t bother him anymore.

Mostly. There are other things to worry about.

“Hello,” Zaref returns. He’s tired these days. They all are, of course, but Zaref particularly.

“You needed me?”

That gets a twitch of amusement, like Zaref appreciates the double meaning. Satisfaction flashes through him in turn; it’s rare he gets his words so right. Scratch spins around in her chair to check something on one of her half dozen monitors, chatting away to Dobin on the other end of her line, paying the exchange no mind.

“Yes,” says Zaref with the same layered understanding, and Daichi hides his smile in the nod of his head. “Scratch, you have the conn.”

“Yep, got it,” she confirms, never once looking up from her screens. She adjusts her headset as Zaref hooks his off, and Daichi ignores the eyes on them as they step out of the command hub altogether. He swallows back his questions. If Zaref’s holding a briefing outside the hub, it must be important.

Or, maybe it’s not the brief itself that’s sensitive. It doesn’t take him long to recognize the route they’re taking, and they’re halfway down the hall when Zaref slows and stops, shoulders braced.

They don’t need to worry about anyone bothering them, not here. Only a select few come to this part of the base.

“Is this— Are we here for you?” Daichi asks. It’s a tender subject, one he isn’t quite graceful enough to dance around. Zaref’s lips thin, almost imperceptible. A no, then.

“A new pilot arrived on the morning flight,” he replies.

Ah. Daichi understands. He lets the sting of not-knowing pass over him. He trusts Zaref to tell him when things are important—like now, paused three quarters of the way to the dojo, deep enough in the base that the chaos and the fear can’t touch them.

The sting of Zaref’s quiet refusal is a harder one to let go, but that regret is old and familiar, and it only aches a little. The hope sticks furious under his breastbone that one day Zaref will trust him beyond the mats of the dojo and the meager privacy of a bunk.

Not that he doesn’t. Not that Daichi doesn’t know he does. He just hopes, is all.

But Zaref doesn’t drift—hasn’t ever, according to his file. Rumor is that’s what washed him out of the ranger program, but Daichi’s always had a sense there’s more to the story.

“Who?” he asks.

“He says his name is Ozymandias.”

“Auspicious.”

“Something like that,” Zaref agrees dryly, mouth tilting up, all wryness and exhaustion and the fraying gallows humor they hang by. “Sunburst’s repairs will be finished soon.”

And Daichi will need a copilot, now that Izzy has relocated to the other side of the Pacific. As with most things regarding Izzy, he does his best to not let himself linger on that.

“Where was his last posting?”

“Sydney.”

Daichi frowns. There hasn’t been an active Jaeger program in Sydney in nearly a decade. Zaref, seeing his confusion, adds, “He came recommended by Kallux.”

His frown deepens. “Private sector?” He tries not to let the disapproval color his voice, but it’s difficult. The private sector causes more problems than just the black market trade of kaiju parts, and not everyone is as forthcoming as Scratch’s friends. “Has he piloted since then?”

“Yes. Scratch can send you the file.”

“And you want him?”

“I don’t think want has anything to do with it,” Zaref returns, mouth pursed. Daichi winces—he certainly hadn’t meant it like that—but Zaref is frowning again, almost hesitant. “He… claims he brings nothing to the drift.”

Daichi eyes Zaref. “Do you believe him?”

Daichi’s heard people say it before. It rarely holds up when the neural link connects. Silence, he’s found, is a rather subjective experience.

“I’d like you to check.” He makes a face, almost apologetic. “I know it hasn’t been long since Izzy left, but—”

“We need pilots.” They’ve had bad luck lately—bad before they lost Marshal Frida and worse after. There’s a reason Scratch is up half the night with Dobin, both of them plugged into their calculations, frowning about shrinking windows between breaches. There’s a reason they’re all so tired.

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

“If it doesn’t work—”

“It’s alright,” Daichi says again. “I wasn’t going to drift with her again either way.”

Zaref’s expression goes pensive as he touches the scar at Daichi’s temple. It doesn’t look nearly as bad now as it had three weeks ago—he’s been patched up by the best they have, same as Sunburst Mantle.

“Maybe one day.”

“Maybe,” he allows, but he doesn’t think Zaref believes it any more than he does. It had been a bad argument to drive her a hemisphere away, and that had been his fault. He still feels bad about it. He knows the others miss her too, particularly Zaref—and not only because it leaves him with one half of a benched Jaeger crew.

Maybe not benched, if Zaref has found him a new copilot. What luck that this Shatterdome just so happens to have an extra ranger on the loose.

“We shouldn’t keep him waiting,” he says, turning to press a kiss against Zaref’s wrist and tug his hand down from where his thumb is sweeping distractingly over the curve of his ear. “If this goes well, maybe you’ll be able to bench the twins.”

“I wish I could bench the twins,” Zaref sighs, giving his hand a squeeze and pulling back, shoulders straightening and expression smoothing, falling back into the role of Chief Officer. It’s a pity—Daichi likes him soft.

When they reach the door at the end of the hall, it’s cracked open. Daichi wonders briefly how far the sound carries. If it had been closed before they stopped to talk.

“Just,” says Zaref on the threshold, a hitch of hesitation. “Don’t force it.”

“Of course not,” Daichi says, wry and lying and obvious. Zaref huffs, unamused and unimpressed and unsurprised, and opens the door.

The dojo is as still as it always is, heavy with a dusty sort of silence despite its pristine condition. A pair of boots sits at the edge of the mat, neatly squared, and in the center of the room is a man. The new ranger. Ozymandias.

A little grandiose as far as names go, but those in the Jaeger program can hardly be accused of humble or sensible naming conventions. And the folly of forgotten kings is perhaps not the worst thing to reference, even if the lone and level sands are a long way from the ocean-bound Jaeger program.

He stands facing away from the door, hands folded behind his back, at ease. He’s a little taller than Daichi, maybe, and he wears his hair long and golden and threaded with grey. There’s a squareness to his stance that speaks to military training. He doesn’t move as the door swing shut behind them.

“Ozymandias?”

“Ozy,” he offers, finally turning around. He has the barest hint of an accent, Mediterranean maybe, flattened by time and travel, and a strange coloring in one eye. Daichi can’t tell if it’s blind or not. He tilts his head, nearly birdlike as he looks between the two of them, and Daichi understands why Zaref might believe it when he claims he brings nothing to the drift: there’s an unsettling blankness in his gaze.

“Daichi,” he bows. “Sunburst Mantle.”

“I know.” He doesn’t offer up an introduction of his own.

Across the room, Zaref catches his eye, a silent question. Daichi shakes his head and bends to unlace his boots. Zaref doesn’t need to stay. In all honesty, Daichi doesn’t think they need the spar. He can already see something familiar in the man, the kind of understanding that lends itself well to a neural link. He isn’t sure he likes it, but the liking doesn’t matter.

Over Ozy’s shoulder, Zaref gives him a lingering look—warning, almost, which is as sweet as it is pointless—and slips out the door. Ozy’s mouth twitches as the latch clicks.

“Method?” Daichi asks.

“Hand-to-hand is fine.” He sinks into an opening stance—Pále, it looks like. Interesting. “If it’s alright with you.”

Daichi settles into position in turn, rolling out his shoulders. “Are you sure you want to return to the Corps after so long?”

Ozy’s mouth twitches again—a smile, sanded down. “I don’t think want has anything to do with it,” he says. “My path led me here. Isn’t that enough.”

“Maybe,” Daichi allows.

He’s right about the spar being unnecessary—as they prove four hours later, when Dobin’s grim prediction proves true and a Cat IV spills out of the breach, sprinting over the Bonin Trench. Later, when they’re back on base, Zaref finds him in a slip of privacy, holds him tight by the shoulders and takes a long, trembling moment to say—

“Well?”

“He’s right,” Daichi says, forehead pressed against the thrum of Zaref’s pulse, the reminder that they’re alive, at least until the next attack. It had been a bad fight—they’re all bad fights, these days—but not nearly as unsettling as the bare desert of Ozymandias, sands unstirred by any breeze of thought or desire. “He brings nothing.”

“Is that alright?”

It is what it is. “We need pilots,” he says.

Want has nothing to do with it.

#I'm honestly kind of dissatisfied with this but it's been in my drafts for fully 2 years so fuck it!!!!!!#(I think it was an oc kiss week prompt from 2021 and they don't even kiss these fuckers)#like idk if I'd Actually consider this canon (au-non?) for Dai and Ozy's introduction #ozy wasn't even supposed to be here #other fun facts: Bran is the Marshal on duty at the LA Shatterdome (Eniko is her mission controller/chief officer)#Zaref is the Chief Officer at this Shatterdome (idk where they're located maybe Shanghai or Tokyo?) but their Marshal is dead #Ozy has obviously been doing *waves hand* Stuff with kallux and their Secret Organization #nobody can stand the twins #Sunburst Mantle went down hard fighting a Cat 4 lava shark; daichi nearly died #then he and izzy had a big blow-up fight about it and now they can't/won't drift together and she's gone to Vancouver to work as a j-tech #au #.pacrim au #mine; daichi

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cycat4077 · 2 years

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Well, that was a dumpster fire 🙄

#please - for the love of all things holy - stop making crossovers #as soon as OC is involved it becomes the Elliott Stabler show #the drama was so far fetched and there were plot holes everywhere #these *elite squads* sure didn’t have their shit together #simple precautions were overlooked for the purpose of drama #simple precautions we've seen on SVU before for example #for a cross over we only have cameos from most of the main casts and instead had to watch Elliott show off his puffed out chest #i really have started to like the OG shows but this cross over did not do it justice in terms of its potential #where was the SVU squad?#we could have had the 3rd hour being awesome court action with Price McCoy and Carisi #but nope it was all OC themed #I'm beyond disappointed and frankly I was bored #i kept holding out hope that it would improve but it simply didn't #law and order needs to keep their shows self contained within one another #mention other characters or have a cameo here and there but the plots are so much richer when they're stand-alone #okay i think I'm done ranting for now #tiffany watches law and order

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

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WIBTA for sabotaging my boyfriend's hookup with his girlfriend by filling his sex playlist with DJ Crazytimes

I (28NB, they/he) have known my boyfriend (call him C, 29M, he/him) for some 15ish years now. As long as I've known him, he has been on and off again with his girlfriend (call him T, 29NB, he/him). Respectfully, and with love, C and T are two of the worst and most annoying people I know. I want to marry them both specifically so that I can study them under a microscope like a parasitic virus.

Technically they're monogamous, but they're both hooking up with other people (myself included), usually the same people, because they have the same taste in lovers (bad). I have suggested that they give actual polyamory a try, and they reject the idea wholeheartedly. I think they get off on their dynamic, and far be it from me to try more than the bare minimum to dissuade them from it.

A couple months back, they got into a fight and broke up (again) because T (who was unemployed at the time) stole $50 from C (who works at GameStop) so that he could pay for a tank of gas (using C's car) to go hook up with another guy a couple states over. C was not upset that T was hooking up with another guy (because he was Also hooking up with that guy and knew he would not have a leg to stand on), but because of the stolen money + car.

C and I currently live together, because you can't afford an apartment on a GameStop salary, and also, like I said, he's my boyfriend. I'm making carnitas tacos next Friday, and T is coming over, because despite everything, he has nothing else to do on a Friday night. I know that C and T are going to get into a huge fight, and I know that it's probably either going to end with them getting back together out of spite or with someone's vehicle getting keyed--I'm betting on both.

Here's where I think I might be the asshole. I would really like to get inbetween them. Not in a "I don't want you to date each other" kind of way, but in a "holy shit you are both so insufferable i would like to get in on that" kind of way. I currently have my thing with C, and I've hooked up with T once in the past, but I would really like to make it official with him as well.

My plan is as follows: C and T are going to be in the same space again next Friday. They're going to fight, then hook up, then get back together again. C is one of those cybersexual "i built my own computer and run it on Linux" people, which is to say, he thinks tiktok and youtube are evil, and he he thinks spotify premium is supporting megacorporations. So, his sex playlist for T (we do not have our own sex playlist) is just an actual folder of mp3 files.

While C is at work, I'm going to log into his computer and change several of those mp3 files to DJ Crazytimes' Planet of the Bass, which I play often, and he is frequently annoyed by. My hope is that he'll realize it was me, he'll come and yell at me for ruining their hookup, T will take my side to piss him off, and the tension will get to the point where they let me join their hookup, and I can ask to date both of them after that.

To be clear, I recognize that I'm also Incredibly Toxic for enabling and encouraging this behavior. That said, I feel like I'm justified in this scenario considering C and T are both Also toxic, and furthermore, it is a known fact that I'm dating C right now, so for them to hook up, C would technically be cheating on me. I asked C's sister (a childhood friend of mine) for her take on whether it would be funny or just annoying, and she just told me that we all deserve each other, so I think I should be good. Am I being uniquely shitty here?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #one of the submissions of all time #the dj crazytimes saga

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absolutely-esme · 3 months

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Amity Park is different

Amity Park has a local superhero.

He's great. He works hard to protect his town. That said, Amity's local hero is a teenager. The people he relies on to help and support him are teenagers. The town's superhero defense is a handful of kids figuring things out on their own.

They do good, but sometimes the people of Amity have to be prepared to lend a hand or hold their own for a bit. That's just how life is under these conditions. Communities come together and support each other. It's fine. People adapt. Life goes on. They're really doing quite well.

A class from Amity Park visits a museum in Gotham on a field trip. They get caught in an unfortunately timed Scarecrow attack.

Scarecrow should have known better than to activate the fight or flight responses of a group of Amity Parkers.

The gas canister drops and discharges. The field trip group explodes into action.

A pair of Football players quickly overturns a table and use it as a shield as they charge the goons with the most firepower. Cheerleaders toss each other into the air for aerial attacks. Nerds turn objects from a nearby Janitor closet into a surprisingly effective trebuchet with astounding speed. One girl utilizes impressive martial arts skills.

A boy with Black hair and blue eyes flits about the battlefield pilfering and disassembling weapons with a shocking degree of efficiency as a Goth girl follows him around and bludgeon anyone who attempts to make a grab for him with a stand that had been holding up a rope barrier, and a boy in a beret lays down cover fire by launching pencils out of a makeshift bow formed from a binder and rubber bands with a startling degree of accuracy.

The teacher flits around pulling kids out of the path of attacks they hadn't seen, stowing any injured behind cover, and giving foes solid thwack on the noggin when the opportunity arises. He actually ends up knocking out Scarecrow himself.

The statement "We're not trapped in here with you. You're trapped in here with us," is repeated several times by different people.

When the Bats or police arrive, they have to carefully pull the feildtrip group off of the unfortunate rogues.

It takes a while to get the antidotes administered, but they do eventually manage. The class remains in defensive formation the whole time.

When the kids finally calm down enough to give statements, they mostly just say that Scarecrow gets what he gets for deliberately activating Amity Parkers' fight or flight responses. After the antidotes take effect, the class seems unfazed and goes about their business as soon as the authorities allow.

Some other visitors to the museum upload videos of the event online with titles like "the one class that was prepared for a field trip to Gotham" and "What kind of place is Amity Park, and why haven't I heard of it before?"

It doesn't take long for people to edit the videos to set the fight to music. Popular song choices include Ballroom Blitz, Bring 'em Out by Hawk Nelson, and the "we like to party" song from the six flags commercial.

Now the Bats are investigating Amity Park (and why they haven't heard of it before).

#dpxdc #dcxdp #Amity Parkers are OP #Amity Parkers are like that #Casper High has gone Feral #The goons are gonna have nightmares about a town where all kids are like Robin

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tojirights · 2 months

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Prompt “❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜” with alastor :3

Likke reader has been with multiple people but alastor is the first person to make her cum 0.0

prompt: Hii I really like your work! Can you do face sitting with alastor like reader mentions that she wants to sit on alastor face to angel and alastor overhears or angels says outlook to husk while his wasted thank youu

a/n: combining these two prompts!! ^ thinking maybe alastor overhears you talking with angel about your woes and offers to uhhh assist 👀

"the guys down here suck, angel." you sigh, sitting next to angel in the hotel lounge. you crack open your beer and hand him one as well. "yer tellin' me, babe." he chuckles. "whats got ya worked up this tIme?" he hums, reaching an arm around your shoulders. "thats the thing! nothing!" you groan, leaning into his body. "you know how many times i've tried hooking up with someone just for them to bust in 30 seconds and rub my inner thigh?" angel almost chokes on his drink.

"they're the worst. no one down here has been able to make me cum but myself." you mutter, taking a sip of your drink. "who do you want, hm?" angel asks. "maybe i can hook ya up with someone good." he wiggles his eyebrows, earning a giggle from you. the alcohol is making you feel a little brave, so with a sigh, you let your words free. "y'know who i think about all the time?" angel's eyes widen with interest, anticipation building.

"alastor..." you admit for the first time out loud. angel does choke on his drink this time before he laughs. "bitch! the radio demon?!" he barely contains his cackle. "stop! i mean, have you seen him? god, angel. i'd get down on my knees and bark if he told me to. i wanna sit on his face, hold onto his antlers for support. ughh, he's so hot." you whine into angel's chest, embarrasmemt finally setting in. angel tries to contain himself, but you've never said something so out of pocket but also very relatable.

unbeknownst to you, alastor stands not far behind you, his ears twitching as he listens in. a part of him does feel a tinge of guilt for listening, but you'd be quieter if you didn't want anyone to hear you. "well now, isn't that interesting?" alastor's voice makes you jump, almost tossing your beer straight onto angel. "oh fuck..." angel all but pushes you over in an attempt to get away.

"oh my god. alastor i'm so sorry, i was just-" you scramble to defend yourself, but alastor puts his staff under your chin to raise your eyes to his. "what was that you said about wanting to... sit on my face? about these worthless little demons not knowing how to treat a woman?" the sultry tone in his voice has you clenching your thighs together, which you blame on the alcohol swirling in your gut. you laugh awkwardly, trying to brush this off as alastor teasing you but there's a look in his eyes that tells you he's dead serious. "it's nothing! just venting some frustrations, that's all."

your eyes are a dead giveaway, desire flooding them as you peer up at alastor. "why don't you accompany me to my room for the evening, darling? we wouldn't want these inexperienced fools to try and make a move now, would we?" he extends his hand, and you decide to throw caution to the wind. standing, you let him pull you close. "blow my mind, radio boy." you whisper, watching alastor's eyes darken and his smirk grow. alastor uses the shadows, leading you straight to his room in a mere moment.

your heart rate sky rockets, realization hitting your gut as you start to strip. "how long has it been?" he asks, picking you up with ease and carrying you to the bed. "w-what?" you hesistate, watching as alastor ushers you to climb on top of him. "since someone else made you cum?" you swallow, straddling his chest. "i don't even remember al..." alastor's hands come around to grip your ass and pull you forward. with a gasp, you brace yourself on the headboard and then the feeling of alastor's tongue immediately has your brain turning to mush.

it's dizzying, the slide of his tongue up and down your slit was already far better than anything you've experienced in such a long time. "o-oh fuck." your body shudders, barely being able to hold still. alastor's tongue dips passed your entrance, lapping up your juices like a man starving. you already feel that familiar coil in your stomach forming, threatening to snap all over alastor's face. "that's, oh god alastor, that's so good." you moan, gripping tighter on the headboard as your hips start to stutter on their own.

then, you feel alastor's hands on your ass start to push and pull you, forcing your cunt to slide over his tongue. "y-you, i'm gonna-" you can't even think straight, pleasure blinding you to anything else happening in the entire world. alastor hums against your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and that's it, you're cumming hard enough that your vision goes dark and tears well in your eyes.

you're shaking, barely being able to breathe as alastor's tongue runs lazy circles over your still sensitive clit to ride out your orgasm. before you're fully recovered, alastor quickly flips you onto your back and his fingers find your puffy pussy. "you have no idea the honor it is to be the only one to see you like this, my dear. the only one to feel you-" he pauses, pushing two fingers inside your needy cunt so he can hear your sweet moans. "cum. and i will be the only one to continue feeling that. you will cum on my face, my fingers, my cock... anything you please."

the desire burning in your core strengthens once more. not even your own fingers have ever made you cum twice, but alastor is about to pull a second orgasm from you almost completely back to back. "make me cum again." you whine, hips arching further off the bed as his fingers pump in and out slowly. "on your cock, fuck, please fuck me alastor."

alastor chuckles, his free hand unbottoning the front of his pants just enough to free his cock. "how could i deny such a good girl? cum on my cock, my princess." in an instant, alastor's fingers are replaced by the thickness of his cock. the first thrust alone has you teetering on the edge, while his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit.

your pussy clenches around his girth, pulsing with every sweep of his finger. each thrust of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, his cock filling you like no one else could ever. "y-you, gonna cum again." you cry out, spasms wrecking your body as your second orgasm hits even more intense with the feeling of his thick cock stretching your pussy.

alastlor groans, pumping his cock deeper, deeper until he's cumming as well. "such a good girl." he grunts, pushing each thick rope of cum further inside. "you won't ever have to worry about not being taken care of, my dear." he assures, pulling out slowly even as your cunt tries to squeeze him in. "there's plenty more where that came from, rest your pretty little eyes." he coos, pulling a blanket on your tired body.

you just know this is going to be the best sleep pf your fucking life...

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #hazbin alastor smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor smut #alastor imagines #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you smut #hazbin smut #alastor hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader imagines

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lvlyghost · 6 months

Text

Remnants

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You got hurt and Simon finds out.

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

TW: bruises, slight angst. reader missing simon. also fluff think that's it. lmk if i missed any. also poorly edited and not proofread. mind the english!🤭✨🤍

A/N: this is so self indulgent. embarrassing how much time it took to get out because i've had this idea for two weeks now. anyway enjoy!💛

Masterlist✨

Laying in bed until it was late was part of your daily routine when Simon was off on deployment. Too tired to even get up when he wasn't around to wake you at 7:00 a.m.

He was a morning person unlike you.

You remember the days he would drag you against him by the waist mumbling something about being too late to be in bed, to which you had groggily bit back and slapped his arm in a playful manner. Then he would be gone for months, leaving nothing but an empty bed and the absence of his deep voice to fill your ears. Feeling that made your eyes well with tears and your heart ache. What if I don't see him again? What if that was the last time I ever felt his touch?

Shaking your head you pull yourself out of the comfort of your shared bed, taking a quick bath before preparing yourself a nice breakfast.

Winter is starting to settle in and your favorite thing to wear is his black hoodie. The one that swallows you entirely. It smells like him, it's almost like being embraced by him.

"Come on don't cry now." rubbing your eyes with the hem of the sleeves. Traitorous, salty droplets spilling down. "Jesus." Taking a deep breath you calm yourself and the ache gradually stops.

The kitchen is somewhat cold despite the heater turned on. You watch as the coffee brews —the one he dislikes— you smile again although small. Barely a quirk of your lips at the thought of him looking intently at you as you take a sip and offer him one.

'Bloody incorrigible.' He had muttered.

But you had seen him smiling that day as well, as different as you both were from one another, the love you two held couldn't be denied, nor broken.

That's why when the front door creaks open your eyes widen, legs moving faster than your brain can register. Socked feet dragging across the wooden floor nearly slipping. Simon stands stall, the door closing behind him as he lowers the black duffel bag on the floor.

"Are you really back?" Your lower lip trembles, the emotion too heavy to hold it back.

"Come here, love." You lunge forward, collapsing against his body. Simon's quick to catch you with strong arms holding you. Bodies pressed together. He can finally let himself breathe. The smell of your home, the smell of that awful coffee you love, the aroma of your shampoo and perfume that drives him absolutely crazy. He pulls his mask off and his mouth is soon against your soft lips. Oh how he missed you. He missed this, his girl softly caressing his face standing on your tiptoes. Simon grumbled, when he feels the air shift and you pull back, his brown eyes glimmer with devotion.

"Don't worry there's tea for you. Plenty. I made sure of that for when you returned." He inhales deeply, kissing you once again on the forehead. Taking his hand you lead him to the kitchen to serve both the breakfast you've been working on. "How are the boys?" You ask taking two mugs out of the top cabinet.

"A bit more scarred than before but they're good." He comes behind you lingering close —too close— to your back. "Price wants a reunion. Told him I'd let you decide."

"You already know I'll say yes." He hums watching you pour some water in the kettle and waiting for it to boil. "Black or chamomile?"

"Black." You try to move around as much as you can with him caging you from behind. Giggling when he once again kisses you on the temple. "Alright, let me see you again..."

Simon grabs you by the forearm it's not hard, it's gentle but firm. Firm enough to hurt your neglected limb. You shriek, a loud 'no' leaves your lips as you stumble back and away from him, soothing the place where he had touched you. It hurt so much but you quickly regret your reaction knowing it'd spark something within him.

Simon's eyes go wide, then his brows furrow so hard you can see the small line that could leave a permanent mark on his forehead.

"What was that?" He growled. The distance you put between you and him is cut off by his long strides.

"It's nothing, I- I swear." You trail off, searching for an explanation. But he's smart and he won't let this pass.

Few things could make him lose his temper, you lying about your wellbeing was one of the top on the list.

"Show me." He demands and the way his eyes pierce through every part of you leaves no room for discussion.

Rolling up your sleeves you hold out your forearms. Simon's jaw clenches so hard you're certain he's cracked some of his teeth. Eyes set on your damaged limb; red and purple bruises on your skin. They're so fucking big and he has to remember how to breathe and control his emotions. "How?" His eyes shot back to yours, awaiting.

"I promise it's not what you're thinking Simon."

"Don't give me that. I asked you a question." he takes one of them careful not to press too hard as he brushes his thumb over one of them. Fucking hell. It's swollen.

"Just work Simon. I had to carry big boxes and you know I'm not that strong, that's it. So stop thinking the worst, yeah?"

Sighing he lets go of your arm, the anger slowly ebbs and he feels fucking tired. He thought the worst. No one could blame him, it was in his DNA.

"Next time let me know beforehand, bloody hell love."

You give him a quick hug.

"I still might have to have a talk with your cunt boss."

You snort.

"No you won't." You declare, motioning for him to follow back. "Tea's ready."

Oh, but he would definitely pay him a visit.

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evilminji · 1 month

Text

You know what seriously doesn't get played with enough?

In the grand, shared, doll set of Danny Phantom?

The cultural alienation.

Is Danny up to date on Human Memes? Did he see that movie? Hear about that celebrity drama? He lives here, amongst us, WITH us. But? Feels... half out of the loop.

And? He can't SHARE his passions with us.

Is he REALLY gonna show his new lecture buddy that hot new Kryptonian Sci-fi series he picked up from the Zone's nearest mega market bookstore? Invite a neighbor over for some sparkling ectoplasm laced soda and a binge of this cool Alien animated film from a long dead planet's artist guild? They're trying new mediums, apparently! Danny thinks it's pretty cool, he hopes they make more.

Oh, but maybe he can talk about games!

Except he switched to the technologically far more advanced Z-Held, years ago. They have literally billions of billions of options, since every game maker in their region of the Zone designs for it. Has for millennia.

....music?

Ghost speak either creeps people out or actually hurts to hear, if they listen too long. And "normal" music... feels so FLAT. Emotionless. Yeah, he'll LISTEN... smile and agree it sound nice. But it's... it's so bland? Less then bland.

He can't even share his food! It's a one way trip to ER! If not the morgue. Half his spices are FROM the Zone now. And Zone plants? Heeeeeella poisonous to humans. Tasty af to HIM, but... yeah. No sharing.

So like... what does that LEAVE him? Dance? Hobbies? Sam n Tucker he can share his REAL interests with, but... they went to different colleges. And protecting people isn't a hobby. It's more of a Gotta, you know? He ALSO can't join any space related clubs because now he knows WAY too much about Space.

Like "above civilian clearance, no one on this planet should know that" a lot.

He gets distracted. Too excited. He KNOWS himself.

He would totally ramble on about Space.

He's a Fenton, man. It's genetic.

So... he's lonely. Adrift. A sad, sad, semi-feral noodle of a man. And you know who would never let that stand? Who also wants to know what THE FUCK he's listen too, because it's both giving him a headache and creeping him out? Kon.

This dude reminds him of Tim. Complete with the feral energy and fluffy hair. *snaps pick* lol, bro, is you. ANYWAY, this guy? Apparently the source of the Kent family splitting migraines. That sound has been KILLING them. They need to get this guy better headphones. Aliens gotta stick together, you know? Time to go make friends.

*floats over in his shades n leather jacket* Sup~!

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #minji's writing #halfa out of the loop au

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winterarmyy · 9 months

Text

Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

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

Words: 2.9k++

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.

P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.

It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.

Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.

She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.

Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?

Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.

Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,

"Oh you're back?"

"How's the team?"

"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."

"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."

"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"

But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."

And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.

For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.

And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.

Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.

Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.

Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.

And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.

When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.

For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.

"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.

"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.

"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."

Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.

But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.

Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.

Something is wrong.

Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.

"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."

"...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"

As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.

His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.

"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.

At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"

But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."

He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"

Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.

What is happening?

Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.

Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.

His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.

The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.

Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.

Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.

Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.

"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.

Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.

Will it work though?

Well, she got to have to try for it work.

She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.

When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.

The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.

However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.

There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.

"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.

But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."

The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."

Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.

But, does she?

Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.

After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.

Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.

His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."

Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.

It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.

The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.

Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.

He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.

This is not Bucky.

She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.

Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.

His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"

Fuck, it feels so good.

"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.

He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.

He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.

He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.

"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."

She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.

This is getting out of hand.

Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.

She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.

This is wrong.

This has to stop.

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

"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.

"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.

God, what if he doesn't care?

What if he'll get mad and force it on her?

She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.

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

Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.

"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.

As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.

"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.

Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.

She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.

He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.

It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.

She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.

As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.

But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.

But what if he had something to hold on to?

A hope to look forward to?

A person to protect?

Or a home to go back to?

Would he still be the same monster he had been before?

She have not a slightest clue.

But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.

And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.

Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!

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

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