#i wish i’d done a full body but i did it in the square n was too lazy to expand
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fastest coloured sketch i have ever done but yes grumpy blue dragonlord that should NOT be an ambassador but got the position any way
#i wish i’d done a full body but i did it in the square n was too lazy to expand#did i look at pictures of dragonborn for this… no#freestyling#he has wings and a tail bc dm said yes :)
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Title: Warmth
Rating: R
Pairing: Catherine/Velementov
Summary:
He'll indulge her every whim, but he's not going to allow either of them freeze to death. Velementov warms her up.
The tree is rough but sturdy beneath her. She is thankful for the branch that’s at the perfect height for her to grab onto. Velementov finds purchase on a stump, which he hikes his leg onto in order to thrust into her properly.
“’S not right,” he says in her ear. “Should be in a proper bed. Or at least inside.”
She shakes her head. No, this is how it has to be. No one can know about this. The woods and the frost would keep almost anyone away. Only the people as crazy as them would be out here, and surely they’d see or hear them approach. And she needed this. She needed a release after the hell she’s been through with Peter’s death and various military disasters. She’s done with endless suffering and mourning and people telling her how sorry they were for her. And Christ, what did that mean for her future.
“N-no,” Catherine says. “Keep going.”
“Mmm,” he grumbles in assent.
He’d stop if she wanted him to, of course, and he gets the feeling that she doesn’t want him to. Not at the moment at least. When she’d pulled him aside and dragged him here, he hadn’t a clue that this is what they’d be getting up to. He’d assumed it’d be one of her harebrained schemes, but then she’d drawn up to her full height, kissed him on the mouth, and said, “Fuck me.”
And who was he to refuse his empress?
He still can’t quite believe it though. He drinks it all in. The rustling of her fine clothes against his utilitarian garb. The softness of her hair. The chill that was seeping into the bits of her that were exposed to the elements. He had much appreciation for his pants. Surely she must be cold though. How could she come if she wasn’t able to warm up?
“Catherine?”
“What?”
She sounds far away, like she’s not even there. Poor little thing. Velementov knows he’s being used to serve a purpose here and that there is no secret burning passion between them, but if they were both going to feel good, there had to be some sort of connection. Some spark of recognition that there were here, alive, together, and that that was worth celebrating. The only proper way to mourn was to acknowledge that you were still alive, for better or for worse. You had to accept that if you ever wanted to move on. Not that he’d know anything about that…
“You’re gonna catch your death out here.”
“It’s fine.”
“Catherine…”
He pulls away from her, and she whimpers. It’s a sound that sends liquid heat through his body, giving him a head rush. The animal side of him wanted to pounce on her, make her make that sound again and again and again. But the human side of him, the side that counted her as a friend and ally could do no such thing.
She turns around then, looking quite like a lost angel with her wide eyes and blonde hair that seemed to glow in the snow. Beautiful.
“Please don’t leave me,” she says, throwing herself into his arms.
“Never,” he answers. “You’re stuck with me.”
His words comfort her. Catherine doesn’t think she could stand it if he left her here like this, all alone with no one else in the world to turn to. She’s relieved when he wraps his arms around her in a comforting bear hug. She can feel his hardness between them through, even between their layers of clothing, and there is still a warm, wet ache between her thighs that is dying to be satiated.
“I still want this,” she tells him. “If you’ll have me.”
“Catherine, I’d sooner lose a limb than refuse you.”
Velementov takes the initiative this time, already having her wishes stated to him quite plainly. He picks her up in his arms and spins them around. He sits down on the stump his foot had once been on, putting her squarely in his lap. She shivers, though from arousal or the cold, he’s not sure.
“Let’s warm you up.”
She expects him to get right back to things, but instead she watches him wriggle out of his coat and drape it over her shoulders. She already has a fur cloak on, but the extra layer feels delicious. And it smells of him, warm, alcoholic, smoky, musky. Somehow it was comfortingly familiar. He pulls her hood back up and ties the ribbon under her chin.
“If you’re gonna do something as foolish as fucking in the middle of the woods in the middle of Russia in the middle of winter, the least you need to do is dress for it.”
“What about you?” she asks.
“What about me?”
“Now you’re under-dressed.”
“Under-dressed?” Velementov echoes. “I have the empress of Russia in my lap and soon to be on my cock. I’m the best-dressed man in the world.”
Catherine cannot help but laugh, and Velementov grins. He can’t remember the last time he saw her in good spirits, so he counts it as a win.
“Alright, pet. Let me make good on my promise.”
They rejoin after a bit of maneuvering, and Velementov takes special care in shaking out her skirts in order to cover them both up. She leans into him, tucking her face into his neck. Already she felt warmer to the touch, and her body heat and skirts were doing him a world of good.
“This is much better,” she murmurs.
“Can I…?”
She’s way ahead of him though, and it’s not long before they find a rhythm again. Soon the world of the forest melts away, and it’s just them and their mouths and teeth and hands. And her warmth seeps into his bones, making him feel strong and virile again. He would swear that her youth rubbed off on him sometimes, bringing out a side of him that he’d long considered dead and buried.
When she comes around his cock, he takes a moment to appreciate what a lucky son of a bitch he is before following after her, grunting indelicately as she keens into his ear.
“Christ, Catherine, that was…”
But he can’t think of a proper way to end his own sentence. He’s still reeling, so he allows himself to lean back against the tree trunk and enjoy his view of her, head still tilted back, warm breath billowing up towards the clouds.
Slowly her breaths even out, and her head rights itself. Catherine can tell her cheeks must be splotchy because they feel quite hot, as they always did after a round of lovemaking.
“I dunno what I did to deserve that,” he says, “but I know I’ll never forget it for as long as I live.”
“Thankfully we now know that will be a long, long time.”
Catherine leans in and gives him a kiss on the cheek before gently extricating herself from his embrace. He tucks himself back into his pants, and she straightens her layers out before taking his coat off and handing it back to him.
“Thank you,” she says.
He takes it back with a nod.
“Pleasure’s all mine.”
There’s a small spark of amusement and annoyance in her eye, and he takes that to be a good sign as they make their way back to the castle.
Velementov takes a deep breath. His coat smells just like her.
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prompt 1 with older brothers best friends!harry 👀
1. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”
8. “I said stop staring at me.”
23. “I have a name and it’s not sweetheart.”
Third wheeling could never be fun. Not when you’re basically not even a wheel but an invisible person on a vacation watching couples kiss and yada yada.
“For fuck's sake.” Y/N grumbles changing a side snatching the blanket that got stuck under her and sandwiches her face into a pillow when she hears the steel roof atop her creak furiously accompanied by high pitched obnoxious moans.
Y/N's brother brought her along to their Italy trip, his wife’s bestfriend and his own bestfriend tagged along too leaving only Y/N to grump about their wild sex rendezvous.
She’s sleepless, homesick and probably about to get a stomach bug for living in yacht for four days atleast!
What’s so fun about jiggling in your sleep? None perhaps and the waves crashing at night that threatens you to swallow you down to the pit of ocean --- my pal, nothing is entertaining about it. Atleast for Y/N. She’s more of a hill station going person with her pup Frankenstein that oogles out from his small globe like window, comfy in his lil bag that Y/N moves around on her shoulders everywhere.
When the fracas of whatever’s taking place up doesn’t comes to halt, Y/N had enough, she isn’t very versed in coping with such situations since her dorm-mate is very nice.
So, she’s throwing the lid away to pop her head through the square like space and spreads her elbows up the roof, “Aish.” She immediately covers her eyes upon the sight of his brother and his wife doing it.
Their expressions comically panicked as they embarrassingly scrambles to clutch the flimsy sheets over them.
“Who does it all naked under an open sky?” She squeaks out, feeling her pulse tick and she peeks out towards the darkness from the slight gap of her fingers which are barely helping her avoid the scene that’d haunt her for life.
“Them bunnies and monkeys, ‘n many of our kind, Sweetheart.” She rolls her eyes at the familiarity of deep slow rumble that’s a bit slurred, probably from the Tequila they took with them. The voice never fails to froth bubbles in Y/N's tummy and it always involuntarily makes her nails dig into her palms.
Harry and Tina’s bestfriend went out to roam around Italy, or they told so and Albeit Y/N very well knows their intentions were more to exploring the city she didn’t butt in.
“I’ve a name and it’s not, Sweetheart.” She dismisses him with a grumble and his smirk shines through the shadow aggravating Y/N to an extreme she slips down shutting the door (like lid) at the them.
Harry Styles. Y/N's brother’s bestfriend. He’s everything Y/N loathes about. Bright green eyes, silken features and that dopey pearlish smile that makes everyone fall in love with him in nano-seconds.
To Y/N. He is an incubus. A witch that allures people without even knowing.
He’s a narcissistic asshole and Y/N's bad boy dream, unfortunately.
She hates herself for having a puppy crush on him for years now.
That friggin, Asshole.
He’s with everyone but her. It seems as if he’s getting stung by bees upon the mere closeness between them. A lamb ready to bite her down his stomach if she steps a foot near him.
At the moment when she’s sitting with her knees pressed to her chest, swollen eyes and puffy lips from not getting sleep last night.
She’s really hating that Harry looks so hot from the swim he just took as he dries himself sitting opposite to her. The droplets twinkling on his tanned thick body, his trunks wrinkled and bunched up into his thighs baring the tiger tattoo on front, his hair wet and oh so fucking tug-able – Y/N feels like Rachel from friends thinking all of that.
“Stop staring,” She mutters out loud when he wouldn’t stop licking the saltiness from his pink bottom lip keeping his intense gaze on her.
“What did y'say?” He pretends that we too engulfed in something else.
“I said stop staring at me.” Y/N grits. It’s annoying because it’s making her belly feel funny and loopy.
“The hills behind y'are just s'admirable.” He elevates his shoulders a bit panicked from inside and Y/N forced herself to not to twitch her eye when his chest muscles flexes due to his action.
Bamboozled she takes a glance from her shoulder to where he diverted his sight once she caught him. Her nose scrunched up and chin butted in disgust at the scenery, “That’s literally a heap of dead fishes!”
“Better than starin’ into a dead soul.” His lips down turned into a careless grimace and Y/N gasps out loud pushing the strands of her hair sticking to all of her face because of the breeze gush, “Why would you say that!?”
“’Cos you’re so mauve, that’s why?” He just wants to take a piss out of her. Nobody’s around and he’s finally getting time to talk to her even if it just to sit cross legged on her nerves and sip tea.
He’s actually lying. He thinks she’s more than mauve. She’s all those colours that usually macarons have, all those hues that butterflies wings have and all those tinctures that one find in gems then keep them safe.
She’s the colour he misses in his life.
“And you’re so fucking blue!” She grumbles and that slithered a deep wicked smile on Harry’s lips, “Like this deep ocean yer afraid of?” Her eyes widens at that and she almost lunges on her knees.
How did he know? Ofcourse, he'd. He’s everywhere. In every damn picture of wherever they went for recreation.
“I’m not.” She scoffs, her tone inconvenient and hazy as she shrinks into herself.
“Then take a dip,” She wishes that she could wipe that beautiful stupid smirk off his gorgeous stupidly lame face.
“Kiss my ass.” She spat out throwing a cushion towards him that lands on his lap, “I’d love to.” He barks out a laugh that rings through the waves.
“You’re such a stinky asshole.” She hits him with another that dumps against his chest, “Ow!” He feigns hurt with ridiculous comical expressions and throws the cushion back towards her which she successfully dodges, but, it falls behind her into the water.
“Shit.” She complains ducking around the edge of the yacht and stretches her arm to the plausible extent to grab the floating cushion.
Though when the tips of her toes leaves the seat she was on and she’s bending too much for her own sake Harry’s standing upright, “Hey stop —-" But. It’s too late as with a high pitched squeaky shriek Y/N's rolling first and falling into the water leaving Harry frozen for a second.
Panic chokes her throat and she moves her limbs around everywhere splashing water vigorously. Mouth gasping for oxygen but all that comes is salty water filling her mouth and lungs too, maybe as she sinks deeper and deeper.
“Fuck, Y/N!!” He shouts out jumping to save her immediately knowing she doesn’t know how to swim and he’s wrapping his palm around her neck and pulling her from her waist to himself under the water as she watches him with frightened fading eyes.
He comes back to surface quickly and presses her to his chest. She too clings to him for dear life feeling herself drift into a state of unconsciousness and hard to breath while he grabs the deck and lifts her with himself to it.
He doesn’t risk a chance and lays her limp body down and clasps his hands together pushing them against where her heat beats feebly, winces when she spurts out water painfully.
“Baby...fuck.” He pats her soaked pale cheek anxiously when she still remains unresponsive to him, breathing wearily so he does what has to be done.
He grabbed her chin, squished her cheeks making her lips pucker out and wrapped his mouth around hers sucking the water out and spat it out once his mouth was full.
His eyes slip shuts and he slumps with relief when Y/N coughs out loudly into his chest and he brings her into him murmuring assurance into her wet hair.
“You’re okay darling,” His whisper wavers from the trembling of his lips and his fingers divots into her softest of skin when he hugs her tightly, “’M sorry ‘s me fault, Sweets.” He rubs the bridge of his nose to take the sniff of her scent to calm him down and she shakes her head unable to talk, hands bunched up against his tummy.
“You should rest, yeah?” His gaze soft with care and it’s baffling for Y/N that he ever had this side too. Before, she could be on her feet he slipped his strong arms under her and hoists her up and into him without any trouble.
If Y/N wouldn’t be feeling very droopy and breathless she sure would have fought with him, maybe blushed and hid her face into his neck but she’s already knocking out in his arms from the stingy feeling in her eyes that made her super duper sleepy.
..
Clouds. Y/N's merged into them and they cover every inch of Y/N, wait where am I? She feels real nice comforted around with such warm bedding and she sure knows it’s not hers. The blurry sight infront of her is enough to aware her and a perfectly calloused hand comes rubbing her shoulder when she tries to sit up.
“Not heaven, o'summat.” He chuckles airily. His smile small and a tad awkward, he’s changed into another pair of trunks that are yellow and his upper half now sadly is covered from a blue tee.
“How you feelin'?” Y/N let his question fly over her head and stutters out loudly, “Why you being s'nice to me now?” It etches a frown on his face but soon it vanishes into an expression that Y/N couldn’t pick point.
“You’ve always been such a meanie...” She murmurs glumly. White sheets tangling around her torso as she moves infront of him – their knees touching.
“I umm –-...like you, I guess?” He has never been this nervous and jumblish with words.
“You guess?” She asks and scared that he missed up he rushes out to hold her and to make her believe that his feelings are true.
“No, no! I’m sure. I like you very much.” That puts Y/N into silence where she stares the gleaming jewels onto his fingers and ponders over what he said.
Harry Styles. Her first kiss. Her very first candy love crush and her dream of bad boy actually likes her back.
She tries to ignore the party poppers going inside her body and the drums of happiness rolling around her heart.
“But ... Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy,” She doesn’t meet his eyes smoothing out the crinkles of sheets and her palm halts immediately when Harry hooks his thumb under her chin and raises it gaze lovingly into her eyes with sincerity, “Just ‘cos I stole yer first kiss?”
He laughs out sweetly when she bobs her head vigorously, “C’mon we were just sixteen! I’d have made sure to tell y'to keep it safe fo’ your precious person if I knew back then.” His pupils gleaming with hope and a tinge of eagerness.
The next thing she said with a slight bubbly pout caught Harry off-guard and in awe that how to process what she said with so much liability and vulnerability.
“But you’re my precious person!!”
“Yeah, baby?” He grins with a dimple tutting in and grabs her small cold hands to pull her closer to him.
The sweet name shies Y/N away and Harry thinks she couldn’t be more endearing as he takes her soft looking puffy face in the warm embrace of his hands and bops their noses together.
“Then g’na make sure ‘m your last.” He murmurs feathering his lips to the corner of her mouth that flutters her eyelids like butterflies and she pants out for more with a sweet whine, “Shit. You’re still very candy like since I last kissed ye'.” He giggles stroking his thumb up her cheek and takes a lick of her jutted bottom lip.
“Harry....” She complains tugging his weary shirt, “Yes me baby?” He quips out with those fake surprised eyes he makes with raised brows and puppy gaze.
“Kiss me alre –—,” He's swallowing her words down with the tender smush of his lips against hers in a kiss that’s slow and comforting at first, hearing onto the noises that she creates from tasting him and it deepens into something ardent and red when Harry pulls her over his thighs and guides her arms around his neck.
Their foreheads comes touching. Their hearts in sync and beside eachother. Their tongues loving on eachother.
“Dunno if I could ever stop.” He whispers breaking the knot of spit that connects their mouths with the stroke of his thumb against her shinning lip and pecks that spot twice.
“Then don’t.” Y/N looses her brain cells and only butterflies to whoosh into her skull as she grabs his jaw never letting him go and kisses him harder and rougher this time.
She’s gonna be in oh so much love with this bad boy that’s such a softie for her and she knows that there’s no going back.
#IMMMMMM BACKKKK FINALLYYY#PLEASEEEEE FORGIVE ME MY READ MORE THINGY IS NOT WORKING#BAD BOIII HARRYYYY#harry styles smut#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles prompts#cute harry#harry smut#harry styles fanfiction#fluff#harry angst#hsh#dom harry
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Imagine Gaara comforting you when the depression and anxiety hit
Trigger Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Swearing(?)
A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first post on this blog. I hope you all enjoy it <3 Please don’t copy any of my works. It’s all originally written and I put a lot of time and effort into my pieces. Please ask me before reposting.
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You were curled up in bed staring into nothingness. The past week or two you’ve tried to keep it at bay, but you felt the ever lingering depression creeping its way in. Nothing in particular happened. It was just always there. There wasn’t a time you could remember it not being there. Sometimes it was muffled like background noise and other times the volume was turned up so loud it was the only thing you could hear. It was your constant companion following you like a shadow. And to top it all off, anxiety was right behind it. You thought about overthinking and overthought about thinking. Racing thoughts kept you up sometimes until the sun shone through the blinds.
Everyone wondered why you were so quiet at times, but they couldn’t hear the ass beating you were getting from your own mind that made it almost impossible to be in the present moment. Nor could you find the energy, the language, nor a fuck to give to even begin to explain the war going on inside you. Temari invited you out to what you thought would be a small kickback yesterday that ended up being a full blown party. Gaara, who was supposed to go with you, was inevitably called in for village business. You ended up socially tapped after just a few hours in. Although Temari was with you and you met up with some chill friends . . Although you were surrounded by people, you still felt completely alone. Although you heard the words coming out of their mouths, you couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. Although you were physically there, you weren’t there. You wanted so badly to just enjoy yourself like everyone else, but it was what it was. After pleading with your sister in law, you finally went home only to find that Gaara was still in the office. One final push that sent you
Spiraling
down
And there you were exhausted but painfully awake in the darkness of your shared room. You didn’t know how long you were lying there. There was no time, only the bottomless ocean that swallowed anything and everything you tried to drop into it. No amount of journaling, affirmations, meditation, prayer, movement, walking, entertainment, pet cuddling, food, water, medication, vitamins, herbs, epsom salt baths, incense, face masks or any of the methods you’ve tried felt tangible to you in that moment. What was the point when you didn’t even have the will to move? How could you think of going on a mission next week when you couldn’t guarantee you’d attempt to leave your room tomorrow? How were you going to take care of your hair if you couldn’t even braid, twist or put it up for the night? How could you call yourself a caring friend when you’re thinking about canceling the dinner you’ve already rescheduled twice?
“My love? Why are you still awake?”
Your husband’s soothing voice jolted you out of your inner dialogue. You hadn’t even heard him come in, too lost in the wall in front of you.
“ . . . Can’t sleep.”
You heard the sound of the door closing and hushed shuffling as he moved around the room. A few moments later, you felt his weight dip the mattress beside you. A warm arm wrapped around your middle, gently pulling you to his chest. His hand moved to intertwine with yours as he spooned you from behind.
“How did it go with Temari? Again I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you. I hope you had a good time.”
“It’s fine. It was fine.” you replied flatly.
Gaara caressed the back of your thumb with his own as silence filled the space between you. His lips met the skin of your shoulder and you felt your body gradually relax into his embrace. He was never one to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and always made you feel grounded back to earth with his very presence. Even amidst his many responsibilities as Kazekage, he always made sure to check in on you and provide whatever you may want or need. He would do anything for you if it meant you would feel loved, safe, balanced and happy. Gaara, sweet Gaara, was the love of your lifetimes and you, his. He knew you better than he knew himself and picked up on every detail. Your likes and dislikes. How you took your tea in the morning. Your sensitivities. Every expression. Your body language. The tone in your voice. The slightest change in your eyes. So it was no surprise that he picked up on the shift in your mood right away.
“(y/n) . . . Sweetheart, It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but please know that I am here. I love you more than words can express. I am here to listen and support you in any way that I can. I always will be. You know that, right?”
And with that, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Your body trembled as he maneuvered you to face him. He wrapped his arms firmly around you, cocooning you into the safety of his hold. You buried your face into his chest and the calming scent of earth and cinnamon enveloped your senses. Your tears and running nose wetted the shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Soft kisses were pressed to the crown of your head as his fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine, occasionally drawing soothing circles. You turned your head to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against you before finally catching your breath to speak.
“I-I’m just so tired of fighting just to be okay all the time. I’ve been taking steps to take care of my mental health, but it still feels like it isn’t enough. It’s like one day I’m fine and a couple days later it feels like I’m back at square one. I just want to exist sometimes. No expectations. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to be anything. I just want to be.”
He squeezed you gently at your words, pausing thoughtfully before responding.
“You once told me that your dream is to become the peace within and despite the chaos inside of you. The chaos all around us. You said that you wish to heal yourself and pass on healing to others. I know it is easy to lose sight of it when you’re in the midst of what feels like a never ending battle, but I wanted to remind you of it because I never want you to lose hope.”
Your eyes widened in shock and turned glassy as he continued on.
“You have brought me out of the depths of the greatest despair and have played a huge role in supporting me in healing from my past. Your love is medicine to my heart. There were times when I was lost that you reminded me to never lose sight of my dream. To never lose sight of what truly matters. Even in the most difficult times, you have always found hope where others have felt hopeless. That is one of the many reasons I love you. I am your husband, so let me be your strength when you are tired and feel you can’t go on because you are my strength, dear wife. We can get through this together. Remember that healing is a lifelong journey, not a destination. So take it one day at a time. Hour by hour or minute by minute if that’s what it takes. You’re so hard on yourself sometimes, but look how far you’ve come to be here. Right now. How much you’ve grown. I want you to know that I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I hope that you can come to be proud of your accomplishments too.”
A fresh wave of tears came over you, but for a completely different reason this time. You practically tackled your poor mans onto his back and your lips met in an intense yet equally loving kiss. His hands worshipped the expanse of your hips and time fell away. Vibrations hummed throughout your body as you pulled back to look into those seafoam green eyes. His red hair and pale complexion highlighted by the light of the moon peeking through the window. He was ethereal.
“I love you, Gaara. So much. I am so happy that you exist. Honestly when you speak so openly and directly like that I feel like my heart is gonna burst through my chest . . . fuckkkk. In a good way though! But seriously, thank you for being you. I never thought I’d be able to say this to someone without fear, but . . when I am with you, I know that I am home. You are my home, love. ”
His eyes softened before a huge grin spread across his now blushing features. Gaara didn’t smile often, but when he did it was a sight to behold. It was like feeling the warmth of a sunrise for the first time. An all encompassing glow.
He sat up and cupped both of your cheeks in his hands, tears now mirroring your own. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Your beauty radiates from the inside out. Honestly, what have I done to deserve you?”
“Sir, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? That’s my line. Fight me. Right now.” you deadpanned playfully.
A look of genuine concern crossed over his face. His hands settled on your waist and his posture noticeably drooped.
“(y/n), I would never fight you.”
“ . . . Gaara, I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t.”
“Sarcasm?”
“Mhm.”
“ . . . Right. I should have known. I’ll do better next time.” he sighed dejectedly.
Your body shook with laughter at your man’s adorably serious face. He’s always trying his best. Only Gaara could go from holding space through your tears of sadness, to making you cry from happiness, to having you doubled over with laughter within a matter of moments just by being authentically himself.
“I love you so fucking much, my sweet Gaara.”
“And I, you. My beautiful (y/n).”
You both slept soundly that night in a tangle of limbs, not knowing where one ended or the other began. Two, who together, are one.
#gaara#gaara imagine#naruto imagines#temari#gaara of the desert#gaara of the sand#naruto#comfort#imagine#love#cuddling#gaara x reader#gaara x y/n#gaara fanfiction#gaara x you#kazekage gaara#anime imagines#mental health#mental heath support#self care#healing journey#chronic depression#panic disorder#x female reader#x fem!reader
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airport
kuroo tetsurou · fluff · 2.2k
warning: slight suggestive theme, mild language, characters are aged-up
a/n: did i write this on impulse because i still can’t believe i was actually in this situation? maybe. did i write this as a manifestation of having a kuroo to bitch about and assure me? maybe too. did i get more encouraged to write this after reading a discussion in a server on bra sizes and brand recommendations a few days ago? maybe three.
“Kuroo, I’m serious. Stop laughing.”
A distinct cackling laughter from the speaker of your phone fills the four walls of your bathroom, along with a lazy lopsided grin flashing on the screen that’s perched on the wall mounted shelf next to the sink.
“But you’re making it so hard not to! Plus, you’re supposed to brush your teeth for two minutes, not talk and brush your teeth at the same time for two minutes.” Kuroo reasons, laughter turning into soft chuckles.
“Sorry babe, but I didn’t catch anything you said just now because you sounded like a fish blubbing underwater, except you’re blubbing white foam instead of bubbles.”
He finds it hard not to grin like a fool at your figure from his side of the screen, hands on your hips with a toothbrush stuffed in your puffed-up cheeks, hair pushed back with an elmo headband that he finds ugly yet cute because of the two ridiculously huge eyes dangling on top.
You mumble something yet inaudible while wiping away the drool of toothpaste dripping down the side of your mouth, a small pout dotting your lips.
“Rinse up and tell me from the top again once you’re done, alright?” Kuroo sighs, shaking his head adoringly as he manages to make out a ‘fine’ out of the string of muffled sounds from you.
And do you listen to him completely? Of course not. So he rests his left cheek on his palms, humming to the bits of information you try to squeeze in without accidentally swallowing tap water while cleansing your face.
The white tiles in the background shift to cream walls shakily, along with the shuffling sounds of room slippers against the wooden flooring. “Then as we were walking towards the karaoke place, I somehow fell behind the rest and ended up beside him. And guess what happened?”
“He confessed to you?” He jokes, oblivious to where this is heading, yet.
“God, I’d rather that happen.” You take a seat in front of your study desk filled with skincare products tucked on the side, placing your phone against the wall. “Instead, he called out to me, which I turn to him and find him looking at my boobs, saying ‘oh, its nothing’,”
Kuroo visibly flinches a little, eyebrows furrowed in disgust, eyes widening slightly, like he just tasted a sip of milk that has gone bad. “Excuse me?”
“He was looking at my boobs, Kuroo. My boobs. Shamelessly. Saying ‘oh, its nothing’. What the heck?” You mentally thank yourself for not opening the cover of the toner in your hand, to save the mess you would have made from all the expressive hand gestures.
“And you were wearing your usual tank top, right?” He smacks his lips together, as if trying to get rid of the bad aftertaste.
“Yeah, the usual square neck rib knit tank top that I always wear.” He tilts his head to the side, eyebrows knitted in confusion. Your wardrobe of tops flashing through his head. “The one that you don’t understand why I own a several pieces in different colours. That one.” A long ‘oh’ resonates through the speakers, the particular top emerging from the sea of clothing.
Kuroo processes the image for a few seconds. “That’s not revealing at all.”
“Exactly! It’s like the most basic thing? There’s tons of girls out there who wear the similar thing as me too.” You tap your toner onto your face with your hands. “And I was even wearing a jacket on top of it? It’s not like I was fully exposed or something. But even if I didn’t have my jacket on, I don’t see how it’s taken as a sign to stare brazenly like that. I wear whatever the heck I want to make myself feel and look good, not for someone else to ogle at, unable to keep their raging hormones in check.”
He hums in agreement. “What did you do or say to him then?”
“Honestly, I don’t know what made me so pissed at that moment either.” You sigh, reaching out for your wash-off mugwort mask. “I snapped at him, telling him that when he talks to girls, he should be looking at them in the eye, not at their boobs.”
“That’s my girl.” Kuroo flashes his signature cheshire-grin. “What did he say then?”
Your lips purse together, recalling the situation. “I don’t think he even heard me. Partly because you know how I rush through words like I’m rapping when I’m mad.”
“Told you to apply for that rap competition show on tv.”
“Kuroo.” Your glare earns an apology and light-hearted chuckles. “Another reason why I don’t think he heard me was because he actually had the balls to sit next to me during the karaoke session.” His eyebrows arch at the statement. “To which I dragged Mizuki to sit next to me and he got pushed to the side with the other guys.”
He huffs through his nose with a tinge of frustration, fingers running through his dishevelled hair. “How old is he again?”
“20, I think. But still, that’s no excuse for being so disrespectful towards girls and women. He’s already a full-grown adult for crying out loud.” You set the timer to 15 minutes on your phone, shuffling to your bed. “Out of all the boys I’ve met that are of his age or back when we were his age, I’ve never met such a disrespectful guy. In this area of discussion, I mean.”
“You mean you haven’t met such a horny monkey before.” Kuroo summarises. You snort at his remark, making yourself comfortable under the covers while waiting for the mask to work its magic.
“So you’re mad that he looked at your boobs.”
You place your phone between your folded knees, slouching against the bed frame. “Of course I am. It’s a violation against my body. How the fuck does he think he’s entitled to look at someone blatantly like that? Imagine someone staring at your dick like its nothing.”
The stupid cocky smirk appears on screen again. “Not gonna lie, but I would be proud. Or amused.”
“Freak.” You scoff, scrunching your nose at his reply.
His amber eyes gleam under the dim lights through the screen. “You sure you’re not mad at anything else?” He prods, not letting you off the hook.
“I guess I’m so mad because I never expected this to happen to me. I mean, look at me. What’s there to look at when I’m basically as flat as an airport?” You gesture to your breasts, ignoring his ‘you’re exaggerating’ interjection. “I would understand if he was staring at someone voluptuous or well-blossomed. But what’s the point of staring at a wall so flat there’s no cracks or dents in between?”
Kuroo’s sharp yet soft features settle into a knowing look. “So there is something else that you’re mad at.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “That is?”
“You’re upset that your boobs are small.”
Your eyes take a 360-degree turn, huffing exasperatedly. “I’m not. I’m happy with the way they are.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“You’re not.”
“I am.”
His firm discerning expression in the 10-second-long stare off has you heaving a long sigh in defeat. “I mean, there are times which I wish they would be just a little bigger…” You hesitantly admit, biting the inside of your lips. “So I don’t have to rely on push-up bras that much. And they would look nicer in wireless bras… Or in deep v neck cuts… Or plunge dresses…”
“Babe, they’re perfect with the way they are now.” Kuroo’s words doesn’t come out as pity or consolation; it’s filled with raw honesty and sincerity.
You glance down at the soft flesh beneath your oversized t-shirt that once belonged to Kuroo. “I know, but sometimes you can’t help but want more, right?”
“I understand, it’s natural.” He nods in acknowledgment. “But we have to be grateful with what we have, don’t we?”
A soft smile tugs the corner of his lips at the sight of your pout. “You’re right. Why did I get myself so worked up just because of one horny monkey when I have such an amazing and supportive boyfriend?” His lips curl up with a little more pride at you remembering and reusing his little remark.
“At your service, always. And ever ready to chase off any horny monkeys in sight.” He places his hands to his eyebrows as a salute dramatically, earning a hearty laugh from you.
“Question time. On the bright side, don’t you save more on bras because they require lesser fabric than bigger sizes? Less fabric, less production cost?”
“If only it were like that, Kuroo. You know what, we’re going bra shopping for our next date.”
“May I be granted the honour of choosing the fine piece of garment?” He places his hand over his right chest.
You hold onto your imaginary ruffled dress in the air, dropping into a mid-curtsy. “If I have the honourable chance to be blessed by your gracious kindness to pay for it, be my guest.”
“Of course, m’lady.” He bows curtly, giving you a flirtatious wink.
You giggle at his sappiness. “Okay my turn. Aren’t you jealous that you don’t have the chance to hold them like other boyfriends do for their busty girlfriends when their boobs swell and get sore during their periods?”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. “It’s not like that’s the only time I get to touch them.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively.
“Pervert.” You gasp, covering your breasts with your arms.
The timer on your phone beeps, signaling it’s time for you to wash off your mask.
“Didn’t take you to be a boob person. Thought you were more of a butt person.” You place your phone back on the wall mounted shelf in the bathroom, turning on the tap water to run.
“I’m neither. Because I’m a you person, your person. A person that loves you as a whole, not by parts.” You swear you can see him giving you that smug grin of his with your face submerged with water, washing off the remaining residue.
“You know, maybe God deliberately blessed you with a lesser amount in this aspect.” His voice echoes through the speakers.
You reach out to your face towel hanging next to the sink and place gentle pats on your face. “And why is that?”
“Because God knew that you’d be unstoppable if you were blessed in all aspects. I mean, look at you. You’re already slaying it despite your fun-sized boobs.”
You nearly choke on your own saliva from the fits of laughter at his comment. “What the hell, Kuroo. No one calls a C cup and below fun-sized.”
“If people call those below the height of 160cm fun-sized, I don’t see why I can’t do the same with breast sizes.” He reasons with a nonchalant face.
“Fine, fun-sized boobs they are.” You give in, switching off the bathroom lights. “Your drop-dead gorgeous kick-ass girlfriend has fun-sized boobs.”
“And I love it. That’s what makes her special too.” He adds, face full-on smitten with love.
“Shut up, cheesy conman.” You chuckle softly, your face a mirror image of his.
“Well, you chose one yourself. No refunds.” The coolness of your moisturizer helps soothe the warmth blossoming across your cheeks, but not the warmth spreading throughout your chest like a cosy fireplace on a cold winter day.
【☾】
Zero and one digits flash on the top right of the screen, signalling it’s way past your bedtime. You’ve been on the phone with Kuroo for close to two hours, no wonder you feel yourself drifting to sleep each second. Kuroo senses it too, from the way your eyes twitch and lose focus.
“Alright, last question before we wrap up for today. When are you hanging out with them again?” He asks, stifling a yawn.
You let out a yawn as well, stretching your arm over your head, popping a few bones. “I don’t know, but I may skip if he’s tagging along.”
“Nope, we’re going together. Me and you.” Kuroo states matter-of-factly with droopy eyes.
You rub your eyes that has been lidded with sleep. “What if you’re busy on that day like today?”
“Then I’ll just clear my schedule for the day. Gotta show the lil boy who owns this airport.” His deep voice croaking through the speakers of your phone.
“Airport?” You question, confused at his statement, wondering if sleep has started to take over your sense of hearing.
“Airport.” He gestures at his tiddies sleepily.
“Kuroo…” Your distressed groan doesn’t stop him from his babble.
“Gotta show to him that it’s a private one too, not some public area that’s available to any common folk like him. Right, babe?”
a/n: in Chinese, there’s a saying of calling flat chested girls or girls with small boobs as 飞机场, which means airport because the airport runway is flat. so it’s like one’s chest is so flat that it can run the plane lmao. all sizes are precious, don’t get me wrong. this is purely for entertainment purposes
shoutout to @moonboohoo for being my irl Mizuki that day ily ❤️
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou x you#kuroo tetsurou x y/n#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo x y/n#kuroo x reader#kuroo x you#kuroo fluff#kuroo tetsurou fluff#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu oneshot#hq imagines#dont worry guys im not bothered by the incident anymore#i just thought it would be funny to write about#small tiddy gang unite#and i finally have a piece thats not over 3k words omg#mini achievement unlocked 🔓
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Could I request a jean and s/o birthday thingy my birthday is in a few days and since we're in a lockdown again I can't see my family I read a lot of your writings and they're all awesome it would really make me happy if you could write one for me 🙈
“happy birthday, baby”
pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader
cw: modern AU, fluff, implied nsfw and just pure love
word count: 1600+
a/n: happy birthday to you, hope this request can bring some sort of comfort through lockdown, it’s all a mess right now and lockdown has really fucked us over. this is also an emergency request as it’s a birthday one so i thought i’d do this one now and continue on with my normal request order tomorrow
summary: in which it’s your birthday and jean spends the day celebrating with you
↞ back to attack on titan masterlist
This man spends the whole night preparing the living room of your apartment
He will literally sneak out from your shared bed leaving a pillow for you to cuddle and start getting everything from his car.
Lockdown had hit you once again and you were unable to celebrate with your family.
Baby had seen how sad you had looked on the phone with your parents and had begun planning everything from there.
Ordering so much crap and making sure it came the next day, he had to usher you to go on a designated walk whilst he shoved everything into his car.
This boy takes multiple trips in the cold with a mask and hoodie on bringing everything up.
So fucking sweet right.
He even has a cake, which he got icing for and wrote happy birthday Y/n.
Be warned the cake looks shit with the red icing.
A horror scene but he tried.
Balloons every fucking where.
He literally had streamers and balloons with your age on them.
This man is too good (how is reader getting so much shit for their birthday and i had to spend mine at home).
He had everything set up for the day, calling your family to set up a call the next day at the designated time.
This man has it all sorted, the pancakes for the morning, the presents for you, hidden behind the sofa and the special dinner he was going to make for you.
This man is just too good for his own good.
Ofc at the end of the day, he’ll treat himself to some dessert and make you feel so fucking loved.
This man would fuck you so good, like baby boy take a chill pill or you’ll get her pregnant.
He don’t care (breeding kink?).
The sound of muttering made you wake up, the early morning sun hit your face but even then, it was cloudy and cold since January was a cold month. You grabbed the other side waiting to see your boyfriend Jean, but he wasn’t there. A soft yawn coming from your face, you checked your phone seeing the gazillion messages, smiling at all the messages.
You got up, wearing Jean’s shirt that warmed you up a lot more than you had expected. Moving to the bathroom, just as you walked back out Jean noticed you about to move into the living space, “woah, woah, woah, where are you going? Get back into the room.”
Jean had pushed you back into the room, “happy birthday Y/n, yeah...have an amazing day, love you.” You mocked after he had dismissed you back into the room.
Hearing shuffling outside, the doors opened, and Jean came in with the pancakes, “happy birthday, baby.” You smiled seeing him with an apron on and a plate of two pancakes.
“Thank you.” You spoke gleefully moving towards him, you kissed his lips softly, tasting the sugar knowing he probably had some out of hunger.
Sitting you on the bed he let you lean against his frame, putting the pancakes on your lap, “why can’t I go into the living room?”
“It’s a surprise, be patient princess.” He kissed the top of your head, you both eating and talking. It felt like a good start to the day and had already made you feel warm and less empty than you had felt the night before.
“You can’t come in until you wear your best clothes and make yourself even prettier.” He gleamed out having already showered and ready to change himself.
You sign doing as your told, it was quick, and you wore the dress Jean had said he’d liked, the long black sleeve dress covered you up and you wore tights due to the extreme weather and knowing how cold the apartment got in the afternoon.
Jean walked back seeing you, he stood in awe at the door, one hand at the top as he leaned forward admiring you, “you look beautiful, baby.”
“You’re being extra nice.” You snicker standing up and going in front of him.
“It’s your birthday, I’m supposed to be nice.” You laugh going on your tippy toes and giving him a soft peck. “Come on.”
He makes you go in front of him, his rough hands on your face covering your eyes, you directed you, making sure you didn’t bang into anything. Before finally you were both in the living room, the balloons and streamers cascaded down the walls. The gold and pinks filled with love and his emotion, “keep them closed.”
Feeling his hands leave your eyes, you kept your eyes shut but could feel the light from outside. “Okay, open them.” He had a cake in his hands, the balloons and lights being such a pretty sight. The place was filled to the brim, you felt engulphed in love and happiness and the wide smile the boy had on his face, he knew you loved it.
“You…you did this on your own.” You spoke tearily, still partially in shock at how much the boy had done for you.
“It was all to see that pretty smile.” He got the matches lightening the candle before showing the cake in full view. It really did look like a scene out of a horror film with the red hearts looking like splodges and the words being smudged, “make a wish.”
He was scared you might hate him for ruing the cake, but you grinned like a school girl who had fallen in love. Blowing out the yellow fame, you made the wish that would make you and Jean bound together forever. He smiled putting the cake down, grabbing your hand to take you to the sofa. “You have to open it in order.” You nodded as he passed the gifts, there were three in total. A small box, a much larger oddly shaped one and a rectangle shaped one, he pointed to the rectangle and you opened it.
Unwrapping the silver wrapping paper and sticking the bow on your boyfriend, his lip twitched upwards before you saw the gift. It was a frame, with the two of you in it, it was sentimental more than anything. It had been three months into your relationship, and he had invited you to his work event where you met a lot of his friends. One of them being Sasha who insisted on taking a photo for you two, it had been your favourite photo since, so candid and in love it was beautiful.
“I love it.” You cooed ready to kiss and hug him, but he stopped you.
“No hugs or kisses until the last present.” You signed rolling your eyes at the boy who passed the oddly shaped gift. You unwrapped it quicker, wanting to hug your boyfriend so much at how amazing the day was going.
You undid it to be met with a figure from your favourite anime, it was a little plushie that you had seen in town. You had sent the plushie to him months ago and here it was in your hands, he had remembered. It was amazing, beautiful even, the little hands and feet. You wanted to cry even more at what you had gotten it meant a lot that the boy had even remembered such a trivial thing like that.
He passed the final gift, his hands seemed shaky, but you ignored it thinking he was cold. After all it was still icy outside and you knew he must’ve had to hide it in his car and wake up in the early hours to even do something like this. You wrapped the last gift, the smallest of the bunch, his shirt moved due to his heavy breaths, he rubbed the sweat on his trousers from his palms. He was nervous if you’d like something like this if you’d accept a gift so personal.
You opened it, seeing a square box, you looked between the box and Jean, before opening it. Inside a gold necklace sat in the middle, the words Jean dangled in the middle. Your heart stopped, it was pretty, the diamonds on each side, the cursive lettering. It was beautiful, “I know it says my name, but there’s a reason for that.” He watched your expression, fearful you’d think him to have that big of an ego, which he did but not to you, “I know I leave on business trips for days and I want you to know I’ll always still be around you.”
His justification warmed your heart even more than the gift had originally, you passed it to the boy, moving your hair to the side. He smiled putting it around your neck before kissing your exposed shoulder. “I love it, I love you.” You whispered in his ear, you kissed him softly before he brought his arms around your waist bringing you a lot closer onto his body.
Your birthday had started out amazing, and it continued on, with a surprise family call whilst Jean made dinner, showing your gifts which your parents adored. To the meal that Jean prepared as you both sat together under multiple candles, it was romantic something you and Jean had missed out on since the first lockdown had occurred. But here you were with your favourite boy having the best birthday ever. He even washed up, letting your relax surrounded by the balloons and streamers. It really was a magical day.
Even afterwards, letting you cuddle up beside him he gave you one last present, and it was one that would make you so loved, so comforted and definitely unable to walk the next day.
i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x
if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx
@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @ukaisgratefulwhore @answer-the-sirens @animexholic
#jean kirstein#jean kirschtein#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirschtein request#jean aot#jean kirschtein x you#jean kirstein x reader#attack on titan#bakughoex#attack on titan x reader
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Birthday Wish (Part 2)
A/n: As promised, part 2 to last years Bucky smut to celebrate this blog turning 4 last Thursday! (And me turning 28...) Two people on AO3 requested this and apparently I'm a people pleaser, so here's your update, 1 year later!
If you're not over 18 please don't read.
Proof read by way of a text-speech device
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Female)
Word count: 2822
Warnings: 18 + Smut. Oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, Bucky has a big ****, all the good stuff ;)
Plot: part 2 to Bucky finding your fan blog, even more rewards for the birthday girl
Part 1
(This 2nd part probably won't make complete sense on it's own, smut is smut but there's a tiny bit of plot)
Birthday Masterlist – the other fics I've written on my birthday in the past 4 years are all here
Main Masterlist
*****
*****
“Bucky?” You push weakly at his chest to get his attention. “Where you serious about that date? This isn't just because it's my birthday, is it?”
Bucky's mouth pauses in its decent down your neck as he pulls away to look at you questioningly. You can't help your doubts, not now you're no longer so fuzzy-headed, the reality of what has, and still is happening, too much to process as his warm body presses against yours distractingly.
“What do you mean?” He asks, running a comforting hand up your arm.
You want so much to just ignore your uncertainties and let this against-the-bedroom-door-make-out continue, as even with your damp underwear and friction burned thighs, there is no taking away from how painfully romantic this moment could be.
If only you were sure of his feelings.
“This isn't some pity thing, is it? Because I don't want that. If that's all this is going to be, please tell me now before it goes any further.”
“I said I like you didn't I?”
“Technically, no.”
“Oh.” Bucky's face falls and you hate that you've caused it. “M'sorry. I should have made it clear from the start; this is not because its your birthday, its because its you. This has been a long time coming, I guess this forced isolation just heighten everything and that’s why I made a move earlier today.”
“Really?”
He nods so rapidly it makes you giggle. “I swear. I wish I was better at expressing myself so you'd know how much I mean it.”
“Sometimes we don't need words,” You reassure him, curling a hand into his hair to pull his lips against yours once more, letting him take the lead as you sink back into the feeling, moving his hands to your shirts buttons when he hesitates for too long.
“I'll prove it to you, Y/N,” He mumbles against your mouth, retracing his path back down as he busies himself with opening up your blouse. “Gonna make you feel so good.”
Tipping your head back to rest against the door, your eyes close on their own, overwhelmed once again by how well you seem to fit together.
“Is this how you always dress?” He asks, referring to your lack of bra as his hands skim across your breasts.
You hum. “I don't remember the last time I got dressed properly.”
“Shit,” He breathes against the swell of your chest, “If I'd known...”
Your self satisfied laugh gets caught in your throat as he suddenly drops to his knees before you, one hand propping your right leg over his shoulder whilst his other holds you tight to keep your balance. His soft hair brushes your tummy, and you fight to keep your breathing from becoming erratic when he peers up at you, looking so submissive even though he's definitely the one in charge right now.
Bucky tugs at your soaked panties. “Let's get these out the way, yeah?”
Pressing his lips into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, he gives you a moment to catch up to his plan.
“What if I fall?”
“I won't let you.”
It's so easy to believe him when your body is almost buzzing in anticipation. The moment you give permission, your panties are ripped at both edges and pulled away from the sticky mess of your centre, your shriek of protest making Bucky grin, hard.
“Hey! I liked those!”
“I'll buy you more,” He promises, spreading your legs a little further to get better access. “Besides, your blog said you would like that.”
Whimpering, you realise this is all your own fault. A second later, however, your ruined underwear is the last thought on your mind when his lips finds your core and his tongue licks a long line up through your slick.
“Fuck, knew you'd taste good.”
You can't answer. Bucky doesn't waste any more time speaking, putting his mouth to better use between you legs, finding your clit in no time and sucking on it until you see stars. He's an expert at making you shake in pleasure, something you'd never doubted and in fact wrote quite extensively about, but it's nice to be proven right.
More than nice, actually. You're still sore from his thigh, responsive in the best way, and he's quickly building you up to another high as he eats you out like a starved man. The heat swirls in your tummy, your own mouth dry as you pull on his hair to warn him you're close.
Bucky can tell. You can feel his smirk as he doubles his efforts, his own little moans vibrating into you as the hand holding your thigh moves to join his mouth in wrecking you for anyone else.
The instant his fingers push inside you're gone. The stretch makes you cry out, curling into his hold, your whole body being supported by Bucky while you shake through your orgasm. Tears form in the corner of your eyes as he slows down but doesn't stop his movements to guide you through it, letting up just as the pleasure turns sharp.
Slumping back against the door out of breathe, you try to rest your weight back on your own legs, failing miserably when your limbs are still so shaky. Bucky coos sympathetically, rising back up and taking you fully into his arms, your legs naturally wrapping themselves around his middle.
“You're so fucking hot.” It's said in a mutter before he makes you taste yourself on his tongue.
The passion behind his kiss is shocking, despite the two orgasms he wrung out of you. In this position you can again feel his erection, still constrained in his tracksuit, and even before you've fully caught your breath you're trying to wriggle your way out of his hold to help him out.
He sets you down with a puzzled smile. “What do you want?”
“You. Inside me.”
There's no use trying to be coy when he's seen you at your most vulnerable. Bucky chokes at your brazenness, smile growing wide as he drags you with him towards his bed, peeling your blouse off your arms before lying you gently across the sheets.
Fully naked in front of him for the first time, your instinct is to cover up but he stops you, hands catching your wrists and pressing them back to your sides.
“Keep them there, okay?”
You nod mutely, watching spellbound as he stands at the foot of the bed and finally starts to strip. His sweatshirt comes off first, thrown to the carpet somewhere to be dealt with later, and then the bottoms are gone too, leaving him in just his briefs, bulging at the front and visibly stained.
You reach out a hand before you know what you're doing. “You wanna help, pretty girl?”
“Please,” You beg, sitting back up to perch on the edge of the bed and blink slowly up at him, letting your fingers graze just above the elastic of his underwear. Teasing for a second or two to keep him on his toes, you wait until just as it looks like he's about to snap to pull at the band and let the fabric fall down and off his legs.
“Fuck,” You both say at the same time.
He's big, bigger that you'd thought, and you have thought about it a lot. If he's uncomfortable under you're wide-eyed scrutiny he doesn't show it, just lets you stare until you've had your fill.
“That's not gonna fit.”
Your voice breaks as you fail to hide your fear, only glancing away briefly to send a worried look Bucky's way.
“It's all right, doll,” He whispers, the shadow of a smirk gracing his face as he guides your hand to his cock and encourages you to wrap your fingers around his length. “We'll make it.”
The warm weight under your palm distracts you effectively, and you enjoy the power it gives you over this normally unbreakable man, collecting the precum leaking out of the tip you work to set up a steady rhythm. He's impatient, thrusting in to your grip until he can't take it any more.
“Stop, stop. Or this will be over before it's begun.”
You're surprised, you didn't think you had done much yet, but he seems pretty affected if the tremble of his hands pushing yours away are anything to go by.
Closing his eyes to gather himself, he steps away momentarily to dig something out of his wardrobe, laughing quietly at your pout when he returns.
“M'not going anywhere pretty girl.” Bucky taps a square package against your pursed lips, making you gasp in realisation. “I just thought we might need one of these?”
He drops it onto the bed by your side in invitation for you to take the lead. Picking it up, you quash the nerves threatening to come back, instead concentrating on ripping the side open carefully and placing the condom at the end of his cock just as a question flits through your mind.
“Wait. Why do you have this? Did you plan-”
“No, Y/N,” He rushes to clear up. “Sam put them in my bag as a joke, seems I'll have to thank him for it now instead, huh?”
You don't answer, but silently agree as you finish rolling the rubber down his length. Now there's no pretending where this is going. Sensing your hesitation, Bucky leans in to kiss you again, lowering you back against the bed sheets while he explores your mouth and waits until he can feel you relax.
Placing one last peck to your lips, he settles, stood, at the perfect height in between your legs. “Ready?”
“Uh huh.”
“We'll go as slow as you need, okay?”
Smiling up at him, you help him swipe his cock through you folds, eliciting a joint inhale, before he finds your entrance and starts to push in.
If he looked big, it's nothing to how he feels. Your fingers scramble across the sheets to ground yourself, so full you think you might burst, and he's not even halfway in.
“Breathe for me, Y/N.”
His whole body is tense against yours as you try your best to do as he says, breathing in unsteadily. When your eyes meet you nod, and he continues the slow slide inside of you until your hips meet when he's fully sheathed.
“There we go, told you you'd be fine.”
You laugh weakly. “M'being split in two.”
On anyone else that smug look would be off putting but with Bucky, it's just makes you roll your eyes fondly. His hands smooth across your waist as he lets you get used to the feeling, staying still even though you can see it must be torture, and that makes you determined to relax for him, the slight sting where you're joined fading with every murmured praise.
A minute ticks by before Bucky clears his throat.
“This is called cock warming, right? Read about that on your blog too.”
He speaks so casually and you clench around him in shock. You hadn't even considered that that was what you were doing but you suppose he's right, kind of, and with the way he looks as he struggles not to move you'd be more than happy to try it properly in the future.
There's nothing prettier than the flush spreading across his cheeks as his chest heaves.
Still feeling full, but deliciously so now, you urge him to move with a shift of your hips. His own roll in to yours experimentally, and when you show no signs of pain he does it again, this time drawing a small moan out of you.
“Knew you'd be good at this too,” He confesses with a harder thrust, checking you reaction as he increases his pace. “Fucking made for me.”
You can't disagree when you fit together like a puzzle. Letting him take complete control, he doesn't disappoint, swiftly lifting one leg to rest over his shoulder like earlier and finding the perfect angle after only a few trial strokes, leaving you grabbing at the sheets once more.
It doesn't take long for you to get close again. Never letting up on hitting all the right spots inside you, it's like he already knows your body so well, and you're in heaven as the pressure builds up.
“Look at where we're joined.”
You obey immediately, watching mesmerised at the wetness shining on his cock, at the way it forces your body to open up to him, at the obscenity of how big he looks pushing his way in and out of you.
“Pretty girl's gonna cum again, yeah?”
It's not a question but a demand. You hum in affirmation, too far gone to form actual sentences, only just about able to untangle one of your hands from the sheets and press two fingers against your clit.
“I-I need-”
“Let me.”
Your hand is swatted away, replaced by his, rubbing circles over your clit whilst you try to not scream. It's too much, all your senses are heightened, and with one final thrust you're falling over the edge, clenching around his cock so tightly you'd be worried about hurting him if you weren't completely lost in the feeling.
Bucky doesn't last much longer either. His thrusts slow into a sort of filthy grind of his hips into yours, and then he's pulling you up by the waist to be as far inside you as possible before letting himself go with a loud groan. Echoing that noise with one of your own, you allow him to half collapse on top of you to ride out the high, still moving in and out of you minutely, prolonging the orgasm for all that its worth.
You stay joined together like that until the aftershocks have worn off and you have enough strength to tug him fully down on to you. Protesting, he stands back up and pulls out of you gently with a grunt, discarding the condom in the general direction of the bathroom bin, then crawls back up the bed to take you in his arms, laying face to face as you catch your breath.
Shy now, you hide your face in his chest, tracing patterns over his skin with a content smile. He moves the hair covering your face aside, chuckling silently when he realises the plastic tiara is still sitting atop it, slightly askew but otherwise unharmed.
Carefully untangling it, he places it safely on his bedside table. “We need to shower.”
You don't move. “In a minute.”
“Okay, doll. One minute.”
Eyes heavy, you sink into his hold, the comforting sound of his heartbeat lulling you into sleep until he shakes you back awake.
“Hey, I meant it. We need to clean up. And you haven't had your cake yet.”
Yawning, you ask hopefully, “Cake?”
“Yeah, I, er, baked it myself. I hope it's okay, I've never really-”
How can he be so endearingly nervous just minutes after he made you orgasm, three times, you don't know. “I'm sure it'll be lovely, Bucky. Thank you.”
He shrugs, still blushing. “S'okay.”
It's quiet for a while longer, just basking in the afterglow, but there's something you really need to discuss.
Steeling your courage, you dive right in. “So, where'd we go from here?”
“Well, I'd like it if you'd be my girl, but it's up to you.”
You heart flips as you sigh in relief. “I'd like that.”
His delight at the turn of events is obvious too, pushing his lips to yours quickly before stating semi-seriously, “I better not read anything about this on that blog of yours.”
He confuses you for a second, having completely forgotten what had gotten you into this position in the first place. Laughing, you throw one of your legs over his waist, cuddling up to him even closer.
“Hey, Bucky,” You start, sitting up out of his hold to better look him in the eye whilst you ask the question you've been meaning to since the beginning of all this. “Do you follow me on there?”
“Maybe.”
You shove his arm playfully. “Maybe? Bucky! Yes or no!”
“Maybe,” He repeats with a smirk, not letting you interrogate him any more as he slides off the bed and scoops you up in to his arms. “Come on now, Y/N. Shower, cake, then back to your bed.”
“Why my bed?”
“'Cos it's clean,” he says bluntly, making you flush.
“Oh.”
“Hmm.”
Struggling to stay awake, you allow him to manoeuvre you into the bathroom, inside the shower, and under the warm, soothing water.
Bucky grabs the soap when it becomes clear you don't intend to do it yourself, being particularly delicate with his touch over your still sensitive skin. “So, did you enjoy your birthday?”
You don't reply with words, just lean in to press a smile-filled kiss to the corner of his mouth, but that's probably answer enough.
*****
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes imagine#buckybabybaby#The gif is not really relevant but he's so attractive here so I had to add it...#Not sorry
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For my bingo — can I have the royal square with Knight!Mike x Knight!reader x Prince!Sonny
Please and thank you 🥰🥰
Once Upon A Time
A/N: You would request this! For those out of the loop, Karen and I talked about this a months or so ago via discord, and then she requested it so I'd write it. And I actually really liked it! I hope you do, too ❤
This covers the Royal square in @adarafaelbarba moodboard bingo!
Tags: talks of abduction, blood, broken bones, black eyes and bruises
Words: 2450
Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas @reading--mermaid @qvid-pro-qvo @averyhotchner @imalostredheadinablondeworld @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31
Once upon a time, there was a young prince. From when he was a child, he was taught to treat everyone fairly, to have love and compassion for all. Because of this, the kingdom loved the prince, and he loved them all, too. But other kingdoms were not as loving.
When the prince turned fifteen, a group of mercenaries from the kingdom in the West attempted to assassinate the prince. A knight in training, no older than the prince was, saved his royal life. Ever since then, the two had been inseparable, and once old enough, the prince asked the knight to marry him.
Though the king was happy that his son was happily in love, he was not thrilled that his only son would not be able to give him heirs to take on the crown. For you see, the knight was a man, and neither could bear a child.
One day, the knight was called upon to escort the king to a neutral palace, to negotiate peace with the kingdom to the West. Worried for his princely husband, the knight went to an old friend and fellow knight. They had grown up together and had been close. He asked the other knight to please watch over his husband, to make sure he was safe. The knight accepted; being a knight of the kingdom meant protecting the crown with your life, regardless of it being a favor to an old friend.
The new knight spent many days and nights with the prince, protecting him from any that might do him harm. No such attacks occurred, but another problem arose; the prince and the knight fell in love. The prince still loved his husband, though, and he wasn’t sure what to do, while the knight was at a loss; she had only ever been in love once before, with the knight who she had trained with all her childhood…the same knight who was married to the prince.
The husband knight returned a few days later, and he could sense the tension between the two. They all agreed to sit and talk, and this is when they decided to follow their hearts. All three loved each other very much, and soon enough, the husbands married the knight, too. This had never been done in the kingdom before, but the king was all too happy to acquiesce; mostly because his son was happy, but also, he could now have heirs.
********************
You were out, patrolling the grounds in the early morning fog. A part of you wished to still be in bed, cuddling your husbands, but the call to arms was more important than your relaxation. Plus, you had a bad feeling about today.
Mike was called to duty the same time you were, leaving the prince to lay in bed alone. Your heart hurt, knowing how much Sonny loved to wrap around someone in bed, rather than sleep by himself. But all of this was to protect the crown, protect him. So, he would have to endure it.
Emissaries from the West were to arrive today, with further negotiations of peace, and tensions were high. Which was why the guard had every knight armed and ready, just in case.
Thankfully, the representatives only numbered six; two negotiators and four guards. You were able to relax your guard slightly, unworried. An attack now would mean an act of war, something you didn’t expect the West to commit to; your kingdom’s army far outnumbered the West’s. To start a war would be suicide. Though, you knew Prince Sonny worried about both you and Mike every day, afraid you’d die in battle.
You were just rounding the corner of the royal garden when the alarm was raised. Fear shot through you, and you ran as fast as you could in your armor, heading for the prince’s chambers. You, Mike, and twenty others were assigned to the prince, while the rest of the guard would head for the king and queen.
You flew up the staircase, then rushed to the hallway that led to Sonny’s room. But the sight in front of you made you pause. The two knights posted outside his chambers were slumped on the ground, blood pooling around them. Mike showed up behind you then, his face full of concern. With him by your side, you both headed for the slightly ajar door, heart in your throat.
Mike pushed into the room while you stooped to check the guards. Both were dead. Steeling yourself for the worst, you followed Mike inside. He was standing by the bed, his back to you, head down.
The room seemed untouched, except for the bed. Feathers from pillows and the covers were scattered, and the bedding was tossed to the floor. Holding your breath, you joined Mike, looking to the bed. A piece of parchment was left on the mattress, and there was a splash of blood on a pillow, but otherwise, there was no sign of the prince.
With shaking hands, you took the parchment, then read it aloud. “The only peace that can exist between us is for King Carisi to kneel to the West. If he does not kneel within a fortnight, then the prince will be slain.”
“They took him,” Mike muttered, voice a deadly quiet.
You blinked away your tears, laying a hand on his shoulder. “We must inform the king.”
He took one last, longing look at the bed, the blood staining the pillow, before he nodded and turned to leave the room.
*****************
You and Mike were both stunned when the king decided to send only the two of you to retrieve the prince. If you were caught, then the West may kill Sonny as revenge. But what was certain was that you and Mike would be killed on sight.
There wasn’t much time to think about the king’s decision, though, and neither of you would decline a chance to save your husband, anyways. Soon enough, you and Mike made your way to the Western kingdom, dressed in their clothes to better blend in. It was a long, two-day ride on your horses, stopping only in the dead of night to toss and turn on your bedrolls before continuing. You had left your armor at home; it was a dead giveaway for who you were. The only things you carried on your person in terms of weapons was daggers, hidden up sleeves. It left a bad taste in your mouth.
Knights were honorable; war was ugly, and the knights were the ones on the front lines, fighting for their kingdom. They were not the ones sneaking into places with blades hidden. But the West had played a dirty hand by distracting the king with such a small group of emissaries claiming peace, only to kidnap the prince. It was time to play dirty back.
****************
You and Mike took turns scouting out the royal prison. The rumors were that a prince from the East was imprisoned there. But rumors also claimed everything from “the prince came of his own accord” to “the prince was killed the day he arrived”. Afraid for your husband’s fate, you and Mike didn’t take long to come up with a plan.
Dressed as guards—complete with a sword on your hips—Mike led you into the belly of the prison. Judging by the state of the other inmates, all of which were beaten, starving, and shivering, you were afraid of what they had done to Sonny. But he had only been captured for three days—he couldn’t be that bad, could he?
There were guards posted in front of his cell when you found him. You and Mike quickly killed them; with the element of surprise, it was easy to take them out almost silently. Hoping that you had some time before more guards appeared, you unlocked the cell.
The commotion had caught Sonny’s attention, and he rolled over to see what was happening. When he recognized his spouses fighting for him, he propped himself up on an elbow. And once you had opened the door, a smile pulled across his face, albeit painfully.
“My knights,” he mumbled, trying to push himself to sitting.
You were there first, and you stooped to help him. “Sonny, my love, you need medical attention—”
“What happened to you?” Mike asked, that deathly quiet back in his voice. He squatted next to you, reaching out to cup Sonny’s face, turning him towards the light from the lantern behind you.
One of Sonny’s eyes was swollen shut, and bruises covered his face. Dried blood was under his nose, and his lip was split. It appeared as if his arm was broken, and he kept it tucked awkwardly to his side. There were slashes through the cloth that dared call itself a tunic, blood from cuts visible through it, some still actively bleeding. The most worrying thing, however, was how thin the prince had become in a few short days, dark circles under his eyes that could be bruises or lack of sleep.
“I’m fine,” he murmured, trying to give Mike a reassuring smile. Sonny hated violence, and he knew that Mike had a temper about him when it came to protecting Sonny.
But Mike’s face didn’t soften. “Who did this to you?” he asked, voice a whisper.
Sonny answered just as quietly, reaching up with his good hand to cover Mike’s. “Don’t. We must not tarry.”
“He’s right, Mike. We need to go, before we’re found out and executed,” you said, standing.
Mike clenched his jaw before straightening. He scooped Sonny’s frail body into his arms, and Sonny tried—and failed—to not grimace in pain. “When was the last time you’ve eaten?”
“Later; we must go now,” Sonny replied. You agreed, and you went first out of the cell, leading the men up and out of the prison.
*****************
The rescue of the prince was noticed just before you made it to the kingdom walls atop your horses. You told Mike to take Sonny and run while you drew your sword. There was still time before the guards at the exits tripled, and you knew you could take them…and if not, at least your husbands would be safe.
Both men were unhappy with your decision, but Mike was more interested in saving Sonny, so he followed your orders, the prince commanding he not leave you behind, his cries ignored. There were only three guards at the exit, and you went first, clashing with them all and giving Mike time to ride by. You vaguely heard Sonny’s screams as they went, calling Mike a coward for not helping you. But all that faded from your mind as you sparred with the guards.
You heard when the alarm went off, and you knew it was time to go. You cut one man down, injuring another, before you pulled yourself back onto your horse to gallop away. While mounting your horse, however, the lone guard still standing slashed out, cutting your back from shoulder to hip. You cried out, slumping onto your horse as it galloped, barely clinging to the reigns. The cut at the shoulder was deeper than the rest, since he hit you as you had moved forward, but you were still worried about what this meant for your life. You couldn’t move your left arm—the shoulder that was struck deep—but you hung on to your horse with your right.
Your horse didn’t slow until you were at a small overpass; the place you and Mike planned to meet and assess the rest of the trip home; your kingdom was a two-day trip away. Mike came out from under the overpass when you rode up, and his face filled with concern. He helped you off your horse, asking what had happened. You fell to your knees once you were on the ground, pain rocketing through your body.
“Shit, this is bad. Come on; get inside so I can bandage you up,” Mike said, helping you to stand. You shuffled on weak legs underneath the overpass.
Sonny sat up as he saw the state you were in. He was shirtless, most of his wounds either bandaged or cleaned, a half-eaten roll in his hand, his other arm still tucked to his side. “Are you okay, doll?” he asked as Mike laid you face down on his bedroll. They both eyed your back wearily.
“F—fine. A good night’s rest will heal me right up—”
“It’s bad, love,” Mike muttered. He quickly pulled out the meager amount of bandages he had left before he started to clean the wound.
Sonny’s face filled with worry. “Can you use bandages from me?” he asked, already knowing the answer. But still, he had to try.
“No, that would only lead to infection. We just have to hurry home,” Mike replied.
You winced as he washed you, even with his gentle touch. “We should leave tonight, then.”
“No; both you and Sonny need rest—”
“If we rest here, we may not get up again. Mike, sweetheart, we must get the prince home, before a war starts. And if my injury is as bad as you say it is, then all the more reason to head out now,” you reasoned.
Mike looked ready to argue, but Sonny said, “she’s right, Mike. I’m okay to ride. Why, after eating, I feel as strong as you.” He smiled softly, but Mike didn’t return it.
“Can you ride?” he asked you.
You nodded. “Of course.” You knew why he asked; Sonny, who had only ridden mild-mannered horses through the city during parades, could not ride alone. Mike would have to make sure he didn’t fall.
He gave you a skeptical look, and you tried to convey your conviction through your eyes. You still couldn’t move your left hand or arm, but you could ride one-handed. Finally, he sighed, “fine. Let me finish bandaging what I can, and then we move.”
After packing and forcing another roll of bread onto Sonny, Mike helped you mount your horse. Then, he lifted Sonny up onto his own horse, before settling in behind him.
“It’s a two-day ride back to the kingdom, but if we hurry and only stop to let the horses feed and drink, then we can make it in just over a day. But if either of you need to rest, you better speak up, understand? I will not let either of you die on this flight,” Mike warned.
Both you and Sonny agreed, and then you were off, heading for home with nothing but the moon to guide your way, hoping beyond hope that you weren’t being followed.
#sonny carisi x reader x mike dodds#law and order svu#law and order svu fanfics#fanfic#my writing#adarafaelbarbaseptmeberbingo
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Winner’s Choice
A/N: I only have series-type ideas in mind, so I’m trying to write out short one-shot type fics instead just to pump the breaks a little. Any ideas are welcome but here’s my go at this: you lost a drinking contest to Harry and winner decides a tattoo for the loser...
--------------
"3...2...1...GO!"
I lift the mug to my face and down the beer, ignoring how it splashes over the new top I had worn today. I should've know going out with Harry & Co meant I was getting messy.
Just a second apart, I slam my mug down.
"That was Harry!" The crowd shouts. "Harry's won!"
"It was tied!" I try to shout, ignoring Harry's smug face as his ego rises with the crowd's voice.
"I say rematch!" I shout.
"Don't be a sore loser, love!" Harry shouts at me. I stick my tongue out and hold my empty mug up, declaring louder I wanted a rematch. My swimming head tries to reason with me that it may not be a good idea but I needed to redeem myself.
Harry and I were good friends, I worked as an actor in the industry he dabbled in. And when he laughed at a stupid joke I made one day a few years ago, I'd latched onto him and we'd just become part of each other's lives since.
I moved across the pond from my childhood town in Maine when I turned 21 for an acting job, and have stayed since flitting from role to role. I missed my family and friends but moving here was also the best thing I did for myself. It did get lonely...which was why meeting Harry was also one of the best things to happen to me. Over the first year of knowing him, his friends became my friends and vice versa. I called them all Harry& Co. especially when I was drunk, all their faces blurred into each other and there were too many of them. Except for Harry. His face always stood out from a crowd. Being around him usually cured the ache I had for home.
"If I go again, you've got to put something on the table." Harry finally agrees. The crowd shouts out inappropriate things I could put down and I flip them off. I catch my friend's eye and she gives me a cautious look but I shake my head. I was having fun tonight.
"Loser gets a tattoo of the winner's choice. Tonight." Harry announces and the group goes crazier. My own mouth drops. I had to win this, knowing Harry he would do something ridiculous like his face on my ass. And this was the first time I lost to Harry, I could do this.
"Deal," I shake on it.
"Wait!" My friend tries to reason with us but we pull our mugs supplied by the crowd, closer to us.
"3...2...1...Go!"
I black out downing it but somehow, Harry's mug clashes down millisecond before mine does. A silence descends the room before Harry laughs. And suddenly everyone is shouting, cheering, throwing out tattoo ideas, and one voice is just shouting long live Harry over and over.
"I...." my mouth doesn't close on it's own, I lost. I rarely lost a drinking contest. But...Harry had me beat.
"Fair and square," Harry maneuvers around the table to sit beside me.
"I lost." I say, dumbstruck.
"It happens to the best of us, eventually." Harry kisses my cheek before jumping up and taking my hand. "Celebration dance."
I let him drag me to the dancefloor, trying to bring my mind back to reality. I was going to get a tattoo. My first. "Harry-Harry!" I try to get his attention. "Nothing ridiculous?"
"No promises," he winks. The alcohol sloshes in my brain as he pulls me into him and moves from side to side.
"Harry!" I shout out.
"You'll see," he grins, enjoying my torture way too much. "Just dance now."
His voice in my ear tickles, and I feel fluttery, far away. Some part of me knows that sober me was going to be pissed at drunk me.
I dance with Harry, following his lead, eventually drifting off to my friends, some strangers, and back to him.
"Should we get that tattoo now?" Harry says in my ear then.
"Maybe..." I try to put on my best convincing voice on. "We should wait for tomorrow."
"Nope!" Harry shouts gleefully. "Let's go now!"
"Nothing's open!" I shout but I was lying and he doesn't believe me for a second. I sigh, and find my friends to say goodbye. They try to tell me I didn't have to follow through but I know Harry would get this done one way or another. I may as well get it done while I was drunk and blame it on that.
The cold outside reminds me I left my coat inside, and when I come back out Harry's jumping up and down to keep warm. It makes me laugh but he quickly tugs on my arm. We run to stay warm towards wherever he decided this was going to happen.
It's a few blocks away, a sterile looking place with crazy colours on the walls that I realise are tattoo designs. The warmth inside the studio makes me shiver and Harry wraps his arm around me as we walk through.
"Harry nothing unprofessional please? I don't want to get fired from a job I don't even have." The cold air had sobered me up a bit and I was starting to regret this even more.
"Don't you trust me?" He asks with a glint to his eye that I didn't trust. "Wait here."
I sit down while he goes to talk to the artist, showing her his phone, pointing to various parts of his body.
"Y/N! Come on!"
I drag my feet over and glare at him as I settle in.
"You'll have to take your shirt off," Harry lets me know.
"You're picking where I get it too?" I ask.
"That's part of the deal!"
"I should've read the fine print," I grumble. Harry shows the artist the side of my rib cage-my shirt was still on but his finger traces a small curve up and down where he wants to place it. It sends butterflies to my stomach.
"Okay," I grab his hand so he could stop doing that. It wasn't helping my nerves. "Let's get this over with. But you can't stay."
"Yes I can," Harry insists. "I make up the rules."
"If I have to take my shirt off, he goes." I look at the girl giving me my tattoo and she shrugs, looking over at Harry. He sighs but agrees.
I take my shirt off and have to hike my bra strap higher, ready to settle into the torture.
"Please tell me it's nothing crude? His face included? Or a stupid message like Y/N hearts Harry?"
The artist laughs, "I'm not allowed to tell you anything apparently but from one girlfriend with a crazy boyfriend to another. It's not. Don't worry, just relax."
I try to tell her Harry wasn't my boyfriend but she turns away and I decide it wasn't worth it. I'd explained that a million times to my own mom who always asked if we'd gotten together yet. It was embarassing, my family back home was convinced we were having a secret affair. I stopped wasting my breath nowadays.
"So, do you get this kind of request often?" I try to make small talk.
"More than you think," the cold of whatever she spreads on my skin makes me shiver. I sort of wish Harry was here, to keep me distracted. I pull my phone out and text him.
"I'm back," his head pops in a few minutes later. The tattoo artist looks to me to make sure I was okay.
"Just talk your usual shit so I don't have to think about what I agreed to," I call out. He sits beside me but he falls silent. When I lift my head to look at him, he's staring at me. "Hey!"
"Sorry, I was thinking about the other tattoos I'm going to beat you into getting."
I roll my eyes, but my skin warms under his gaze. "I'm never agreeing to something like this ever again. You got me while I was weak."
"I'll convince you to get another tattoo again," Harry rolls closer to me. He rests his arms on my leg and leans his head on it.
"My leg's going to fall asleep," I warn him.
"Then we'll put another tattoo there," he smiles.
And back and forth we go, he keeps me distracted, and for the most part, the tattoo process is okay. I'm barely listening as she begins to tell me about its aftercare, she'd already said she would give me a pamphlet and Harry had plenty experience, I could ask him.
"Do you want to see it before I wrap it up?" She asks me. From what I felt, it was at least a few inches long and a bigger tattoo was too scary for me to think about.
"I need something to drink before I look at it," I say. "But I know if I don't like it it's his fault not yours."
"You'll love it," Harry pulls me to him and presses a wet kiss to my cheek. I push him away aggressively and agree to be bandaged. I tell Harry he owed me a few beers before I looked at it and he agrees. He purchases some on our way back to my place along with some food. The train ride home is mostly filled with him gloating but I suffer through it, imaging the worst case scenarios.
Back at my place, I stand in front of the full length mirror in my room, deathly afraid. I had waited nervously, threw back a couple of beers and shoved excessive pizza in my mouth. Harry seems more excited than me for the reveal and finally he joins me upstairs.
"So?" He asks, eyes on me in the mirror.
"Fine." I decide. I peel my shirt off slowly and Harry helps, I try to ignore the way my knees turn into jello at the sight of him doing that. "Fine."
My bra is crooked and I act as casual as possible that Harry is still standing behind me. I slowly peel the bandaging off, Harry comes around to help. I close my eyes as he finishes and count to three in my head. When I see it, my heart stops.
"Do you like it?" Harry asks like a kid on Christmas morning. He's buzzing with nervous excitement but all I can do is stare at the simple tattoo as my heart swells.
A few inches big, covering the side of my ribcage, is a twig of wild blueberries: a symbol of home.
"How did you..." I'm at a loss for words. My first tattoo. I just got my first tattoo, and it was...perfect.
"Well, you're always taking about how you miss home. And you rarely get to go back because of your schedule. And I looked up the official things for Maine, didn't think you wanted a moose so I-"
I shut him up by kissing him; that was the only possible response to this. He'd tricked me into getting the most perfect tattoo and if I was ever unsure before I was sure now that I loved Harry Styles. He knew me. His choice of tattoo made that clear. And I loved him.
"Woah," Harry steadies my shoulders when we part.
"It's perfect," I say, feeling tears well up in my eyes. "I don't know what else to say."
"I should've got you a tattoo a long time ago," he says before kissing me again. I could do this forever, I think, as I bury my hands in his hair.
His hand brushes the open tattoo and I flinch. It didn't hurt, but it was slightly sore.
"Sorry," he apologises against my lips. "We should probably take care of that."
"Ugh, wait." I kiss him one last time. "Where's that info sheet-"
"It's okay, c'mon." He leads me into the bathroom and sits me down on the countertop. I watch as he carefully washes his hands and washes the area. He knows where everything is. His face is scrunched in concetration as he washes and dries it. I marvel at how the evening started with his chaotic public personality to this gentle version here.
"This is gonna be cold," he warns before applying jelly over the whole thing. "Don't sleep on this side."
"I won't. I don't really plan on sleeping at all," I grab his shirt and pull him back up to me. I feel him smile as I kiss him, and he pushes me as far back as I can go before I hit the mirror behind me. I can tell he wanted this as bad as I did, and if it weren't for the tattoo we would be a roughened jumble on my bed right now.
"Bad night for a tattoo," he rests his forehead on mine.
"A tattoo can't stop me," I say. "Let's go." I lead him back to my bed and unclasp my bra. "I probably shouldn't be wearing this anyway."
"Fuck," Harry's mouth hangs open but before I can grow self conscious, he strides over and crashes into me. He doesn't bother with holding back, although he avoids my right side. But it doesn't even matter as I simultaneously forget every sense I have and feel every single nerve in my body at the same time as he takes me to bed.
After, when we lay facing each other on the bed, Harry uses his finger to trace my face. When he reaches my mouth, I kiss his finger. "Thanks. Tonight was...great."
"If you think tonight was great, wait until your tattoo heals." He swipes down my nose.
"I was only talking about the tattoo," I tease. "The rest of the night was...okay."
"Okay?" He immediately perches up.
"Yeah. Like...a 6 out of 10?"
He turns on his back and laughs, "You're in so much trouble. You better watch what you say next!"
"I'm not afraid of you--you had your chance with the tattoo and you chose something lovely."
He turns back to me, pressing a kiss to my lips. "You have to trust me."
"I do...usually." I smile. Harry rests his hand on my hip and zones out, his mind elsewhere. The silence stretched out and I can't help but ask.
"So...tonight isn't like, a one time thing right?" I was going to wait to ask but my nerves needed to be soothed. I also didn't want things between Harry and I to be in a gray area. He meant too much to me.
"No, unless...you want it to be?"
"No!" I nearly shout. "Only the tattoo part. Everything else, I'd like again."
"Okay, good." He slides closer to me under the duvet. "Because I wouldn't mind putting a label on this and-"
"Done." I say, not caring how eager I sounded because the grin that splits his face shows the same eagerness.
I mentally apologise to all the people I scolded who asked when Harry and I would get together. As I nuzzle my head into his chest, and he drapes his arm around me, I just think about how right it feels and why I didn't do it sooner. Tonight was a crazy night of bad decisions but every single outcome was perfect.
"I love you Y/N," Harry says after a while, I thought he'd already fallen asleep. I peek out from my position and his eyes are closed. I wait a moment but they remain closed.
I snuggle back in and suppress the urge to squeal. This night felt too good to be real, like I would wake up tomorrow morning and realise it was all a drunk-hallucination. And on the off chance that might be true, I wrap myself tighter against him and whisper the words back, hoping that he was awake enough to hear them.
When his arms tighten around me, I fall asleep happy, knowing he knows too. Maybe tomorrow morning, I would say it again.
#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#writingsfromhome#fic#one shot#idk
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TMNT 2014/2016 Raphael x Reader- Oneshot
“No way you’re lying!”
“No uh! We got it yesterday. April said it was a gift from NYPD since it’s our birthday and all. I’m telling you it’s awesome. I’ve been trying to get my hands on it forever. Donnie says it’s too expensive. Can’t believe we finally got it. “
Mikey talked non stop about getting the just dance system. The both of you were suckers for the game. So hearing that he finally managed to score the machine, it was music to your ears.
If you’re day wasn’t already going well, it was nothing short of awesome now.
“What are we waiting for, let's go!”
You were already in the tunnels of the sewers, you picked up your pace, racing to get there first. Mikey was laughing behind you following. As you ran in through the entrance, you almost tumbled into Leo. He held you by the shoulders, laughing softly at the excitement on your face. “Woah there, is it Christmas?” you shook your head, trying to peep over his shoulder. When he saw the direction of your gaze he smiled.
“So that’s what you’re here for. And I thought for a second you wanted to wish us a happy birthday.” you grinned, reaching over and giving him a hug. “Happy Birthday Leo!” Of course you would never forget their birthday. You’d been waiting all month just to stop by. But when Mikey told you about his birthday present your excitement got the better of you. Leo returned the hug, and when you pulled away, you dug into your bag, taking out a small gift wrapped box, along with a few books. Leo’s eyes lit up like a child, and he hesitated for a second. “Is this..for me?”
“Of course silly, who else is standing here.” He took it slowing, a bit in awe. They weren’t used to getting gifts from others. It had always been just his brothers and Splinter. He appreciated the gadgets and gizmos his brothers managed to get their hands on from above, but actually getting a gift from someone other than family, it was foreign. He opened the small box, and stared at the chain with a silver sterling dragon.
“My dad says dragons are fierce leaders that protect their own. It kind of reminded me of you, so I thought I’d get it. Do you like it?”
“I love it (Y/N), thank you.” he placed the books down on the table, putting on the necklace with a smile. “How does it look?”
You gave him a thumbs up. “Awesome my guy.” you responded in a deep voice, trying to imitate a man’s voice.
“Hey where’s our gift!” Mikey called.
“You really think I’d forget my favourite boys, never.” you placed the bag down, folding your legs. Donnie seemed to catch unto the commotion from his spot. “What’s going on?” he called, eyes still distracted by his screens.
“(Y/N) brought us presents!” Mikey said excitedly. Splinter who was at the back making some tea, walked out from behind the small shed where he usually brewed his drinks.
“That’s very nice of you. I’m sure they are very grateful.” you just brushed it off.
“Yeah it’s no sweat. You guys absolutely deserve it trust me. If I was a millionaire I would have bought a mansion. Sadly I’m still saving for college so you’ll have to settle for these.” One by one you took out their presents. Each gift was wrapped in their signature color. Mikey took his running on the spot in anticipation. When he opened the rectangular box, his eyes grew wide.
“No way..” It was a pair of metal tonfas. Mikey was glued to his original weapon, but you remembered the way his eyes lit up when he saw the advertisement a few months ago. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he wanted. He picked them up slowly, testing it out.
“THESE ARE FREAKING COOL!” well, it seemed that he approved.
“(Y/N).” from Leo’s tone you could already tell what he was going to say. “Leo come one, it’s really no big deal. You only celebrate once a year, you have to make every one memorable. Plus he loves them.” you grin. Mikey was making action noises as he struck the air. “Thanks (Y/N)!!”
“You’re welcome.”
You turned to Donnie, who was staring nervously at you. “Y-You really didn’t have to get me anything.” He assured. You rolled your eyes. “Like hell, of course I did.” None of his brothers probably knew, but Donnie, despite his very logical nature, was pretty sentimental. With all the little knick knacks he’d already obtained, you were stumped for a while on what to get him. Then it hit you. Donnie always loved the pictures you showed him of your family and friends.
You lifted the square package that was tied with a violet ribbon. He took it with a small thanks, pulling the string loose. As it fell open, the paper slipped off the side, and Donnie stared at the indigo patterned photo album. When he flipped it open, Leo leaned over, watching the pictures stuck in the small clear page. They were placed in sections. Each picture displayed a different story. One when you were wrestling with Mikey, another with Leo and Raph arguing. There was even an image on when they were awarded the keys to the city.
“This is incredible…” He was speechless. The images captured so much, Donnie thought for a second he would get teary. He pushed up his glasses, shuffling over to give you a hug. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” You replied. You patted his shoulder lightly as he pulled away. He was already rushing over to set it up. You giggled. Your eyes lifted to give out your last present, but the turtle you were looking for was nowhere in sight. “Raph is in his room. He’s never been the celebrating type.” you nod. “Well I’ll change that. “ you zipped up the bag, about to head over to his room.
“When I’m done we’re definitely having a dance battle Mikey!”
“You’re on!”
Leo and Splinter watched as you jogged to the older turtle’s location.
“She is a very special girl.”
“She really is.” Leo was thankful, not just for himself, but also his brothers. The care that you showed them, it was as if it came effortless to you. It never stopped surprising him. And he was more than grateful. He just hoped his numskull brother didn’t blow his chance with you. Leo knew full well how you felt about Raph.
Raph was probably the only one who didn’t see it.
“Maybe today will be his lucky day.” With that, Leo walked away, taking the books with him.
~~
You knocked twice. Raph always yelled at Mikey for constantly barging in. Even though you strutted there all confident, you were nervous as hell. Raph was the only one who ever made you anxious, mainly because of your gigantic crush on him. You couldn’t remember exactly when you fell for him. For as long as you knew them, they’d always been just really good friends, almost family. But somehow, you’d fallen for the hot tempered turtle. And today, you decided you’d finally own up to it.
“What do you want Mikey,I told you I don’t want to celebrate.”
“It’s me.” you twisted the knob, walking in slowly. When you entered Raph was standing with his back to you. His fists were clenched, and you realized it must have been because he was punching the bag hanging from the pole above. “What do you want?” his rough tone didn’t help much with your nerves.
“I-I just, I got you a present.” you had no idea why you were speaking so softly. Your hands gripped the backpack tightly, not sure if it was such a good idea to approach him when he was already in a bad mood. To your surprise he turned, and he didn’t look as agitated as you thought he would be.
“I’m sorry if I interrupted you. Mikey and everyone else is out there having fun, maybe you should join them. I’m sure you'll have fun. Why don’t you like celebrating your birthday anyway?” The moment you asked you wanted to take it back. Because it was obviously a personal issue that he maybe didn’t want to talk about.
“Y-You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!”
“I’m an idiot.” you scolded yourself.
Raph looked to the side, moving to his bed. He took a seat, bracing his elbows on his knees and joining his hands. There was a flash of hurt in his usually sure emerald eyes.
“Every year in this place, it was a reminder that we’d never be accepted up there. It’s different now, we’re a part of the NYPD helping people. But what about the rest of the world. No matter what we do, they’ll never see us the same. “
So that was it. Who would have thought. Of course he was sad. They had feelings just like everyone else.
You placed the bag down, walking over to take a seat right next to him on the bed. His head turned to you, and you smiled.
“I’m so sorry you went through so much Raph. You deserved so much more. You guys are easily the coolest people I’ve ever met. U-Uh I mean turtles.” you corrected. A small smile inched its way on his face.
“You’re not so bad yourself.” You couldn’t believe it, you actually got him to smile. And it was the purest thing you’d ever seen. You could physically feel the way your heart pick up. You just hoped it wasn’t loud enough for Raph to hear. He was still looking at you, and you him. Maybe your body stopped functioning, because you couldn’t pull your gaze away.
Raph was having a similar problem. You swallowed, hand raising slowly. Your palm rested on his cheek lightly, and you could only pray that your next move didn’t completely ruin your friendship. Raph didn’t utter a word when you started to lean forward. Your hand slid from his cheek to his shoulder. He should have done something to stop you.
He told himself that maybe you just felt sorry for him, or got caught up in the moment. But with the fluttering of your eyelashes, and your plumpness or your deliciously rosey lips, how could he stop it. When he felt your soft breath brush his lips he came to his senses, placing his hands on your shoulders to halt you. It felt like a dagger to his chest, the hurt that was now reflected in your eyes. His head lowered, unable to speak with you watching him so sadly.
“You don’t have to do this just for me…” He fully expected you to pull back and storm off. Maybe even smack him across the face.
“Good thing I’m not doing it for you then.” His head shot up, eyes opening in confusion.
“What-” you darted forward, claiming his lips. Raph stiffened, hands hovering in the air.
He wasn’t sure what to do now. Were you really kissing him because you were...
“Shit..” he groaned. At some point you managed to slip into his lap. His hands found your waist. You were so small compared to him. Yet, the way you were kissing him, it wasn’t hard to tell who was in control. When he felt your fingers trailing down his chest he almost lost it. His hands tightened on your waist and you moaned, rocking your hips into him. Raph parted from the abrupt action, gasping softly. When he pulled away he could see the need in your eyes. This entire time he wanted to convince himself that this was a pity kiss. Nothing more. He poured a bit of his heart and you were just trying to offer comfort.
The need glowing in your usually innocent gaze, it certainly had nothing to do with pity. You were panting, but your eyes were still marking his slightly moist lips.
“Raph..”
Why did you have to say his name like that. His will power went right out the window.
“Is this my present?” he smirked at you, and you grinned.
“It’s one of them.” you whisper, wrapping your hands around his neck and going in for another long awaited kiss. “I don’t care how other people see you Raph, because to me you’re just...you.”
He didn’t feel like he needed much validation from the world right then. Because if you would continue to stare at him with such unfiltered want, then he could do anything.
This was the first birthday he really didn’t mind celebrating. Now he had many more to look forward to with you.
#raphael#leonardo#michelangelo#donatello#tmnt 2014#tmnt 2016#splinter#newyork#NYPD#crimefighters#teenage mutant ninja turtles#love#acceptance#crush#gifts#raph x reader#confessions#comfort#friendship#family
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dralshy’a ka’ra (brighter stars): chapter five || din djarin x reader
Read on AO3 | Masterlist
chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four
Series Summary: In the lake country of Naboo, you and Din romance each other under summer’s brighter stars. || Part Two of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)
Chapter Summary: You and Din enjoy the last days of your trip.
Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader
Genre: Pure fluff | Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: None!
A/N: Hello! It’s been a hot minute since the last chapter! I know I said this was going to be the last chapter of the series, but I wrote too much fluff and had to break it up into two chapters. Chapter six will be up tomorrow, and I hope you like this one! ♡
The rest of your trip passed blissfully. You drank up every moment you had with your husband, careful not to let any moment pass without a grateful appreciation of it. It would be a long time before you could indulge in such a long, restful trip like this again, and there was much to be done when you returned to your “real” life. Until then, though, you and Din both enjoyed your time together.
He took you dancing one night, in the city square where musicians played as the sun set. He was graceful even in his armor, and the pair of you caught many curious gazes. Mandalorians weren’t known for dancing, but Din was open and friendly to everyone around you; when you stopped to catch your breath for a dance, Din had a gaggle of children asking him to dance with them. He let them stand on his boots while they danced and allowed them to put their little hands on the shiny beskar that entranced them so, a laugh coming through his vocoder whenever one of the children called it “pretty”. It reminded you of the way he played with your baby; as you often did, you found yourself very glad you had married a man so gentle and kind to children.
You asked him to take you to the beach, and he very selflessly obliged you, even if it meant tramping over the sand in full armor. He declined to go near the water and settled on a dune nearby to watch as you let the waves run over your feet. You smiled as you watched him - he was a funny sight, in all his beskar, sitting on the sand like he hadn’t a care in the world. You waved to him and were pleased when he waved back.
“How do Mandalorians enjoy any leisure time in full armor?” you asked, walking up the beach to sit next to him. You buried your feet in the warm sand and leaned your head on his shoulder.
He laughed. “We don’t really do leisure, cyare. At least, I’ve never known a Mandalorian who didn’t have full armor on every time they left the covert.”
You traced your fingers over his chest plate; your fingers were still wet from the water, and you left little droplets over the surface of the beskar.
“What if you had to dive in the water and save me?” you asked. You’d pestered him with hypothetical, Mandalorian-related questions often enough to know he didn’t mind them, and in fact liked giving you the answers you sought. “Wouldn’t your armor be very heavy?”
“Yes, it would,” he said. “We had to do training exercises, when I was younger, to make sure we were strong enough to swim with our armor on.”
“But you’d do it for me.”
You knew he was smiling under the helm. “Yes, cyar’ika. I’d do it for you.”
You laid back on the sand, shaded from the sun by his broad shoulders. “And what if you wanted to make love to a beautiful woman on the beach?” you asked.
He patted your thigh. “I’d say I wouldn't be caught dead with my armor off like that, and the sand would make it miserable anyways. Even as much as I wanted to.”
You laughed and pulled on his arm to lift yourself back up, resting your head against his back. You ran your hand under his cloak, settling between his shoulder blades.
“Can you feel my hand?” you asked. He wore so many layers that you sometimes couldn’t tell if he could feel you or not.
He hummed in agreement. “I always feel you, cyare. Your touch could go through beskar.”
You smiled. “You’re very sweet to me, you know that?”
He looked over at you and gently bumped his helm against your head.
“I love you,” he said simply.
You stayed like that for a while, listening to the sound of the waves and the lake birds. A mother and her two children claimed a spot a little down the beach from you, and the sound of the children’s laughter mixed with the sound of the surf.
The littlest one couldn’t have been but two years old, toddling with his older sister down to the water to gleefully splash in the gentle waves. You smiled as you watched them play, and weren’t entirely surprised when you felt an ache in your chest at it.
“I miss our baby,” you said.
He straightened; you knew he’d been watching the children too.
“I miss him too,” he said. “I was thinking how much he would like it here.”
You laughed a little. You could just imagine the kinds of mischief your little one would get up to, running headfirst into the water in search of fish eggs to snack on.
“We’ll bring him, one day,” you said. “My parents miss him, and one day we’ll be safe enough to come and stay for a long time.”
Din’s hand found yours, and you held on tightly.
“Thank you for your patience with... all of it,” he said sincerely. “And your faith in me. After some of the things I’ve gotten us into, I sometimes can’t believe you put up with me.”
You gave a soft laugh and wrapped your arm around his, resting on his solid, steady frame.
“Fair’s fair,” you said. “You put up with me, so it’s the least I can do. Besides, my life would be so boring if I’d stayed here.”
He chuckled. “I guess that’s one word for it.”
He watched the children playing, building a sandcastle just near enough to the water that the waves would eventually topple it.
“We should head to Sorgan tomorrow,” he said. “If that’s alright with you.”
“Wherever you go, I go,” you said simply. If he thought it was best, you’d leave Naboo tomorrow and gather your son before you headed off wherever in the galaxy he needed to go next.
You touched your knuckles to his neck, right under the lip of his helmet. He pulled away from you a little and actually giggled.
“You hate it when I do that, don’t you?” you asked, amused. You could listen to his laugh forever, especially one as surprising and joyful as that.
“No, I don’t hate it,” he said, and you could hear his smile. He relaxed against you again. “I’m just ticklish, that’s all.”
“I won’t tell anybody,” you teased. “It’s very cute, though.”
“Oh yeah?”
He grabbed you by the waist and tickled you mercilessly until you conceded defeat, doubled over in laughter as you grabbed hold of his hands. He held you close to him, chuckling he listened to you laugh, and you were so glad you were married to him. You were so glad you loved a man as kind and good as he was, with hands that would only ever touch you in love, with a body that would defend you until his last breath, with a heart so deeply bonded to yours that to love him was as easy as breathing.
“You have to teach me more Mando’a,” you said.
He chuckled. “Okay,” he agreed. “Just in general? Or is there something specific you want to know how to say?”
“Well, both,” you admitted. “But right now I wish I could say something to you.”
You felt a little embarrassed - maybe it was silly of you to want to speak his own language to him. “Even though I probably won’t pronounce it right and I should probably just stick to Basic.”
“I don’t mind,” he said sweetly. “I love your voice no matter what language you speak, even if your pronunciation is terrible.”
You gave him a light nudge with your shoulder, drawing a gentle laugh through his modulator.
“I’d love to teach you Mando’a if you want,” he said.
“You won’t ever make fun of me?”
“No, love. I won’t make fun of you.” He rested his helm against your head. “Tell me what you want to say, cyar’ika.”
You brought your hand to rest on the side of his helm. “Teach me... ‘you are my heart’s home’.”
“Hm. That would be... gar ner yaim be kar’ta. You are the home of my heart.”
You repeated it back to him. “How was that?”
“Perfect,” he said. “You’re the home of my heart, too.”
You put your arms around his neck and let him hold you. On Naboo or on the Crest, on the run or on a warm summer afternoon, it would be the same no matter where you were. He was your home, and you were his, no matter where in the galaxy you went.
-
You carefully packed away your beautiful dress in your chest of clothes aboard the Crest, taking the time to wrap it back in its paper and place it so it wouldn’t wrinkle. You didn’t know when you’d be able to wear it again, but you cherished it and the kindness of your husband in giving it to you. The memory of it would serve you well until you could put it on again.
Din finished his once-over of the ship, checking to make sure everything was as it should be, and called you up to the cockpit as he started the power-up sequence. The Crest hummed pleasantly as her engines came to life under Din’s familiar hand, and your emotions were a little bittersweet as you listened to the Crest and looked out at the bay and the docks filled with people coming and going from their ships.
“You alright?”
You started a little at the sound of his voice, even gentle as it was, but he steadied you with a hand on the small of your back.
He chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, affectionately running his thumb back and forth. “Everything ok?”
You hadn’t taken your usual seat behind him, even though you knew he was ready to leave and the Crest awaited his direction. You turned to face him.
“Yes, sorry,” you said. “I was just... people-watching, I guess. You’re ready to go?”
He hummed in agreement. “Everything’s set. But you can people-watch for a few more minutes, if you want.”
You smiled. He understood your reluctance to leave and wanted to make it easier on you if he could. You reached your hand out towards him and he took it without hesitation.
“You’ll miss it, won’t you?” he asked. There was no judgement in his tone, only understanding and sympathy.
You sighed. “Yes, I will,” you admitted. You squeezed his hand. “But I’m ready to see our baby, and we have things to do. It’s time to go.”
He tugged you towards him, gently, and spread his knees for you to stand between them. He looked up at you, cocking his head slightly as he studied your face.
“How did a pretty thing like you end up with someone like me?” he asked. “Weren’t there any ruggedly handsome guys on Naboo who wanted to marry you?”
You smiled. “I had an offer or two,” you teased. You had in fact gotten one marriage proposal before Din’s, but it had been from an arrogant young man who hadn’t bothered to woo you at all - perhaps thinking his proposal was flattering enough - and saw you as nothing more than another achievement to add to his list.
Even with his helmet on, you could read your husband’s distaste as plain as day.
“Don’t remind me,” he said, his tone just as uneasy as the day you’d first told him that story. “I was only being rhetorical when I asked.”
You laughed, genuine and deep and full of love for him. You felt his gentle grip on your waist tighten with affection, and you kissed the top of his helm.
“I’m glad I didn’t accept any other proposals,” you said needlessly. Din knew that, but you thought he might like to be reminded every so often. You rested your hand on his shoulder, toying with the fabric of his cloak.
“I didn’t want to marry any of the ruggedly handsome guys on Naboo,” you said. “I wanted to marry a very religious man who could have been a Gungan, for all I knew.”
Din snorted. You giggled and drew his hand up so you could pepper gentle kisses across his knuckles.
“I wanted to marry someone with kind eyes and an easy smile,” you said gently. “I wanted to marry someone with beautiful curly hair and big, strong shoulders. Someone who loves to laugh with me and takes care of me and my babies.”
You pressed his knuckles to your mouth and looked steadily into his visor, knowing you had his full attention. He was sweetly willing against your touch, allowing you to take your time, waiting for you to speak again.
“I wanted to marry someone who takes me on grand adventures across the stars,” you said.
He didn’t say anything, and you wondered what he was thinking. He released his hold on your waist and took his hand from yours, and you briefly worried that you’d offended him somehow. Your fears were soothed as he reached up to take off his helmet and set it on his thigh. The deep love and unwavering devotion in his expression warmed you from head to toe, and you couldn’t help a lovesick smile as he pulled you down to sit on his lap.
“I love you,” he said. You knew it meant a million things he couldn’t figure out how to say, and you leaned closer against him as he put his arm around your waist.
“I love you,” you said back. His curls were mussed, as they always were when he first took his helmet off, and you brushed your fingers through them.
He smiled. “Happy with your scruffy Mandalorian who takes you on grand adventures and gets into trouble with the law for getting you a baby?”
You beamed at him. “Perfectly,” you said. “I wouldn’t have you any other way, Din Djarin.”
He kissed you deeply, drawing you close to him; you put your arms around his neck and let him hold you.
After a few long moments you spent lost in each other, the Crest started a soft, slightly impatient alarm to indicate she was ready and waiting. Din fumbled around blindly to shut it off, still kissing you, and you laughed against his mouth.
“You other lady’s getting jealous,” you teased.
He gave you quick, gentle kisses all over your face. “Let her,” he said. “I want you.”
His desire for you never failed to spark the same in response, but you knew it was time to go. The harbormaster had been informed, and the Crest was ready to take off, and you’d sent a message to Omera letting her know to expect you. There would be plenty of time for lovemaking later.
But oh, his kisses were heady, and the promises of what would come if you let him take you to bed called you like a siren’s song. You pulled back from him with some difficulty, giving a soft laugh at his insistence and your own hesitation.
“More later,” you said, giving him one last, consoling kiss. He accepted it gratefully, but his hand still lingered on your waist as you stood from his lap.
“You drive me crazy, woman,” he said affectionately.
Kriff, you wanted to get back in his lap and kiss him silly. You took his helmet in both hands and lowered it onto his head, hoping not being able to see his expression would ease your longing a little.
He looked up at you with that steady, unreadable gaze, and you knew it hadn’t worked. Instead of making you less keen for him, it turned to something different, something that wasn’t hungry for his gentleness so much as his dominance. You almost blushed at the thought.
“What?” he asked, and you could hear his smirk through the modulator. “Oh, love. Did you think the helmet would make it any easier?”
You laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Din.”
He rapped his knuckles over the side of it. “We both know you fell madly in love with this tin can, cyare. Beskar’s the way to your heart.”
You leaned a hand on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to the corner of the T-visor, right over his cheek. “Fine, you got me. Beskar’s the way to my heart.”
He gave a satisfied hum, pleased with your agreement. Though your desire for each other still sparked between you, it settled into a comfortable warmth that would keep until you had more time to enjoy it. You perched into your usual seat and he finally obliged the Crest and eased her into flight, both of you settling in for the trip to Sorgan.
Read chapter six!
pedro pascal character taglist: @punkgeekchic, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl, @stardust-galaxies, @theorganasolo, @qhbr2013 ♡
series taglist: @kyjoraven, @sarahjkl82-blog, @remmysbounty, @bitchin-beskar, @cosmicbreathe, @prettyboyskywalker, @happyxdayxbitch ♡
let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! ♡
#the long awaited next installment in this series.... i know you've all been dying to read it :)#i hope you like it! the last chapter will be out tomorrow <3#din djarin x reader#din djarin fanfiction#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin fluff#maddie writes stuff!#dralshy'a ka'ra
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A Christmas gift exchange with John Spartan where he gives you a hand made scarf with a heart stitched on maybe as a confession
I hope you like this!😊💛
Credit Where It's Due.
John Spartan x reader
Warnings: none
Masterlist
"Visitor awaiting entry to your domicile: John Spartan. Do you wish to allow him inside?" The overhead voice informs me, interrupting my brooding thoughts as I sit in the square, a frown forming on my face at the new knowledge, confusion tinging the undeniable glow of happiness at his visit that flows through me.
"Yes, let him in." I agree, standing from my seat a little shakily, my legs cramping up from being sat down for so long.
Glancing around the room, I find myself cursing the fact that it's an absolute tip: my uniform is thrown into every available corner, empty food containers stacked to one side, the trinkets in my room cluttering every shelf. The sound system plays a cheesy Christmas tune, something from the time of good music, back in the 20th century, that I managed to salvage from the records, finding this melody to be far more enjoyable to listen to than the old commercial tracks. Apart from this, however, there is no other indication of the time of year evident in the living area, save for the crooked action figure Huxley got me as a gift, which wears a tiny Christmas hat. I've yet to ask her where she got it from, but I know full well it's hand made.
The sound of the sliding doors opening alerts me to John's presence, the muscular cop stepping through them with a gentle smile on his face. Returning the smile, I ignore the butterflies fluttering in my stomach as I go over to him, hoping that my appearance isn't too messy.
"Hello, John. What's the occasion?" I greet him, signalling for him to come further inside.
He does so, keeping his hands crossed behind his back, dark eyes watching me in amusement, though his gaze holds a note of something else, something more akin to nerves.
"What kinda question is that, (Y/n)? It's Christmas!" He laughs, his gravelly voice resonating pleasantly through the room.
"That's not what I meant." I roll my eyes playfully, grinning at him, "I meant, what are you doing here? I thought you were spending the day with Huxley?"
"I was, but I remembered you saying something about being alone today, so I left early and came here." He shrugs, seemingly oblivious to the way a warm blush spreads to my cheeks, my heart skipping a beat at the thought of him considering me like that.
"Oh, you shouldn't have! I'm no fun, it'll be boring for you." I say to him, turning to go further into the room.
"Give yourself credit where it's due, (Y/n), you're a great person to be around." John reassures me, going to sit in the square, his hands moving to duck between his legs, his knees closing to conceal them.
"If you say so." I respond, going to the fridge, "Want anything to drink?"
"Er, no, not yet, thanks." He declines, watching me, "Hey, I've, err, got you something."
At his tone, I turn around, my brow creasing gently.
"You did? I wasn't expecting you too. I mean, I got you something, but I didn't realise you'd get me something, too." I ramble a little, only now remembering the badly wrapped gift stowed away in a drawer nearby. Going to grab it, I turn back to him, unsurprised when I see he's brought his hands out from under his legs, revealing a more neatly wrapped package to me.
Handing him his, I take the proffered gift with a small smile, enjoying the feeling of the smooth paper wrapped around the object inside. It's surprisingly soft, something I wasn't expecting, the gift shifting in my grip as I wonder where John managed to find wrapping paper. My own gift, that he now turns in his hands, is loosely covered in old cloth I found I had, the bundle tied badly with cord from the police station, barely hiding the object from view as his nimble fingers start to pull at the fabric. Glancing back down, I gently tear off the paper, careful not to damage whatever is inside, giddy excitement and curiosity getting the better of me.
With slightly more vigour, I tear the wrappings loose, my eyes widening at the gift inside.
Almost gingerly, I take the knitted garment in hand, letting it fall out over my palms, the soft wool expertly pulled and woven into a beautiful scarf, each stitch and loop perfect. It's a deep navy colour, most likely to match our uniform, though there are flashes of red towards the ends, which I overlook to begin with, dismissing them as a simple pattern. Reverently, I run my fingers over the scarf, warmth flooding me at the thought behind the gift, knowing John's opinion of his newfound talents, his workmanship excellent in every single stitch.
"John, it's beautiful…" My voice trails off, my attention totally transfixed on the scarf itself, "Thank you so much!"
"Of course, (Y/n). You always look way too cold walking around in the winter." He chuckles, though there is an edge to his tone.
Looking up at him, I frown as I realise he's staring at my gift for him, the photo frame (something I salvaged from the old record room) held loosely in his grip. The picture is one of Huxley, John and I, near the time after Simon Phoenix was apprehended, when everything started to sort itself out again. We'd all been far too pleased with ourselves, but we had reason to be: the world was righting itself again.
"Thanks, (Y/n). This is great." He looks up at me and smiles, making me blush and glance back down again, my eyes finding the scarf again.
Turning it over in my hands, I find the end of it, intending to put it on, only to stop still when I catch sight of the stitched design at the edge: a line of small red hearts adorn the navy wool. My eyes widen, a finger running lightly over one as I take this in.
A tension falls on us as we go silent, John watching me closely, his breath held as I inspect the pattern, unsure of what to make of this. Eventually, he starts to speak, thinking he may have overstepped himself.
"Look, (Y/n), I'm sorry, but I've been meaning to tell you for weeks now...I didn't know how else to do it…" He struggles to find words, something that isn't a frequent occurrence for him, placing the picture frame down beside him. I flick my eyes up to meet his concerned ones, my pulse staggering.
"Tell me what?" I ask him, wanting to hear him say what I think he's going to say.
Taking a breath, the cop wrings his hands and regards me.
"That I've fallen for you. Hard." John finally admits, dark eyes betraying his nerves.
In my chest, my heart jumps, my pulse spiking at his confession.
"Really?" Is all I manage, unable to say much more.
"Yeah. Since we first met, you've always been nice to me, you're funny, down-to-earth, hot as hell, and innocent, too. You're nothing like any of the others, and I love that about you." He tells me, keeping his gaze on me as a blush colours my cheeks.
Speechless, I'm left gawking at him, my heart close to exploding as I feel my every wish come true.
"You do?" Again, I find my ability to form proper sentences limited.
"I do, yeah."
Under his hopeful gaze, I feel myself wishing I could just go to him and pull him into an embrace, to tell him I'd love to be with him. Instead, am I force out is:
"I really, really like you too, John. You're everything I could ever wish for." My voice is shaky but my intentions are true.
His face becomes the picture of joy and relief, his lips pulling into the wide, crooked smile I love so much as he steps forwards, having stood up somewhere in the last five or six minutes. In moments, John has his arms wrapped around me, my body crushed into his as his large hands splay on my back, holding me against his muscular chest. Breathing in his familiar scent, I return the gesture, dropping the scarf in favour of holding him, feeling over the flexing muscles under his shirt.
Carefully, he pulls back, looking down into my face, his arms at my waist now as he starts to lean down. Confused, I watch him, only to gasp in content when he presses his lips to mine, kissing me passionately, his hand pulling my hips further into his, the other shaking up to cup my jaw, his thumb stroking over my cheekbone. Tilting my head, he presses closer, my lips parting slightly under his, pleasure and happiness coursing through me as I react to his every move.
He pulls away again, a soft smile playing at his lips as he looks me over, dark eyes not so hard as they usually are, though no less endearing.
"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that." He murmurs to me, breath caressing my face even as his fingers do, a strand of his hair falling into his face.
"That was amazing…" I sigh, already craving more of his touch.
"Glad you think so, because I'm nowhere near done." He chuckles, before maneuvering us to the floor, inside the square indent, holding me close against him as we lean back against the rim. John presses me into his body, his hands roaming every inch of me as his lips return to mine, kissing me deeply and slowly, content just to explore as much as possible.
#demolition man#john spartan#john Spartan x reader#sylvester stallone#john Spartan imagine#demolition man imagine
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Valentine’s Day In
This is a bit late to say the least, I was hoping to post this on Valentine’s Day but school work had my ass occupied so for the past week I was going back and forth between school work and writing 😒
Also I know I have a bajillion wips todo, a few of which are Valentine’s Day prompts
bUt
I got a super cute fluffy idea for Valentine’s Day and the motivation came to me so I hope we can let it slide for now. Right? 😅
Anyways I hope you enjoy ~
Also I wrote this while listening to THIS, so if you want you can listen to it while you read as well :3
Fandom: Obey Me!
Pairing: Satan x GN! Reader
Word Count: 2,866 words
Warning(s): Cheesy, kinda rom-com-y, probably not perfect lol
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The forecast was said to be sunny with slight cloudiness. When you opened the window this morning the sky was indeed cloudy, but instead of sun it was matched with a downpour.
You and Satan had planned the whole day together.
Starting with a relaxing morning of talking and reading in eachothers arms. Then to go for a walk around town, window shopping till dinner time. But since it was stormy outside and you weren’t really in the mood to get dressed up to then get soaked.
But although going out wasn’t really an option anymore, you were still going to spend your day relaxing with Satan as you’ve already planned.
The agenda was already in motion as you and Satan started your day having breakfast together, followed by hanging out in his room reading and cuddling. When it came to be around noon you went to take a shower. Once you were out, your hair still damp, you headed back to Satan’s room. But when you knocked on his door and opened it, the room was empty.
“Hmm.” Since he wasn’t in his room, you went to the study. But came to find he wasn’t there either, infact, he wasn’t anywhere in the house. ‘Where the hell is he?’ Letting out a sigh, you headed back to your room and texted him.
Y/n: “Hey, where are you?”
Satan: “Sorry, something came up and I didn’t get a chance to tell you. I should be home in a couple hours. 💚
Closing your messages you sigh, falling onto the plush mattress of your bed.
Since Satan wouldn't be around for a while you spent your time doing some work. In the time waiting for him you finished up an assignment for class and tidied up your room a bit. Nothing too exciting but it beat just sitting around. While scrolling through Devilgram you got another message from the awaited demon.
Satan: “I’m probably gonna be another hour or so.”
Sitting up in bed, feeling a bit defeated, you leave to go downstairs. On your way down you ran into Beel and Belphie. “Hey, Y/n.”
“Hey, Beel. Whatcha guys up to?”
“Nothing much, actually we wanted to see if you wanted to come hang out for a bit.”
Considering the request, you accept. “Sure, why not. Satan won't be home for a bit longer anyways.” You say, a bit sadder than you intended.
“Great! I got some new snacks I want you to try. Come on.” Beelzebub says with a smile, throwing his arm over your shoulder.
~~~
It had been awhile since you’ve entered the twins room. The time was spent eating different treats and chatting. Feeling ready to leave you stood up, “Well I think Imma head out. I had a lot of fun with you guys but I don’t want to intrude anymore.”
“Wait!” Beel says. Belphegor sighs at his brother's outburst.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothings wrong.” Belphegor corrects. “It’s just that we don’t get to spend much time with you it seems. With you dating Satan and all, Beel just thought we could have you around a bit longer.”
You frown a bit. “I’m sorry guys, I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just sit back down.”Belphie sighs, making you laugh.
~~~
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Door’s open.” Beel hollars, not looking up from the card game the three of you are playing. The door opens,
“There you are.” You turn towards the familiar voice to see the man you’ve been waiting for. “Sorry I kept you waiting.”
“You should be.” You sass.
“Mind if I take her from you guys?” Satan asks his brothers. They nod their heads, engrossed by their game. Putting your cards down you say your goodbyes to leave the room with Satan. Once the door is closed you smack his chest, causing him to laugh. “Woah, easy.”
“You know, you left me high and dry, right?” You cross your arms, brow raised.
“Yes, yes I did. Won’t you forgive me?” Placing his hands on your hips, he looks down at you with his gemstone eyes.
“Fine! But don’t think I’ll let it slide again.”
“I wouldn’t expect it.” He smiles, punctuating his sentence with a chased kiss.
Back at your bedroom, you walk in while Satan stays on the other side of the door. “Well, aren’t you gonna come in?” You say.
“Nope. That’s because I’m leaving you to get dressed.”
“Wait, why?” You asked, confused.
“You’ll just have to find out, won’t you.” He grins, “Now get dressed. I’ll wait for you downstairs.” Before you can say anything else, he closed the door. And with that you spent the next hour getting ready.
Stepping in front of a mirror you take a look at your work. Wearing your best outfit, admiring how the rich green fabric accentuates your body perfectly. Your hair styled. Face fresh. Brushing the invisible wrinkles from your front you head to the stairs. From the top you see Satan standing at the bottom, dressed in his finest suit. His eyes light up when they land on you, a smile accompanying the starlight gaze.
Descending the staircase you take your time letting your eyes wander down his frame.
His hair is combed back, allowing a clear view of his shape features. His body’s adorned with a well fitted suit, the breast pocket housing a pocket square in his signature color. Trailing your vision down to where his hands join at his stomach. A bouquet of peonies resides between his palms.
Nearing the end of the staircase he extends his hand, guiding you down the last few steps. Standing before him he looks down at you, words yet to be spoken between you. Bringing your hand to his lips he places a kiss on your knuckles.
“You look perfect.” He confesses, almost in a whisper as if speaking to himself. “These are for you.” Offering your hands the flowers, he smiles.
Looking down at the bouquet you admire the layered petals in variants of blush pink. Taking a breath of the sweet smell you sigh. “They’re gorgeous, Satan. You didn’t have to get me any~.” You’re cut off by a strong arm taking yours.
“Of course I did. Every beautiful person deserves the small treasures of life.” His voice is like butter. The way each syllable rolls off his tongue effortlessly, always seeming to have an answer for everything.
“Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.” He says with a wink.
Reaching the back of the house you are led to a door that leads into another study of sorts.
Upon opening the door you hear soft jazz and the fireplace crackling in the air. Looking around you see candles lit and flowers everywhere. A few vases of the same pink flowers in your hands scattered around the room and petals trailing a path through double-doors that lead to a patio area that has a full view of the lush garden with a pond. Outside under the covering you see a table set for two with more candles littered about. A bottle of wine and two glasses reside there waiting for you. Breathing in the smell of the earth mixed with the rain you sigh.
You’re speechless. The music. The setting. Him. It’s all perfect.
“Oh, Satan. This is… amazing. How~ When?” Your mind is racing.
“I’ve been working on it all day. Since we couldn’t go out for Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d bring it to us. Do you like it?” He asks, worried he might have done too much.
Placing your bouquet on the table, you turn around to wrap your arms around his shoulders, drawing him in for a kiss.
Pulling back you gaze into his eyes, your fingers gently raking through his golden locks. “I love it.” Satan smiles, relieved. ”So, I’m guessing that’s why Beel and Belphie asked me to hang out. You just needed a distraction, and here I thought they actually missed me.”
“Well, truthfully, I did ask them to make sure you didn’t come downstairs. Though, what they did to accomplish that I had no part in. But enough about that, please ~.” Satan says, gesturing at the quaint table. “Would you like to sit down?” Satan asks, pulling out your chair. Accepting his invitation you sit down. His fingers linger awhile after pushing you in, as he makes his way to the other side of the table. Handing you a glass of wine he poured, your fingers hold his for a moment before separating once again. “You’re not cold are you?”
You shake your head. “No, I’m fine.” You were definitely more than fine, you actually began to feel a bit warm. The way his eyes look over you. Unable to read what he must be thinking. Your guesses and wishes of what those thoughts may be only made you warmer. Shaking yourself from those thoughts you relax into your chair.
Sitting in comfortable silence. The music playing, lulls you into a trance. Sipping your wine you sway to the mellow notes. You don't notice right away how Satan is watching you. His chin propped on his hand, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. When you see him eyeing you, you sit up straight and laugh a bit. You feel your cheeks heat up slightly.
Getting up, Satan offers you his hand once again.
“Won't you dance with me?”
“Of course.” You say, taking his hand.
Standing in the middle of the covered area, your left hand enclosed in his as your right rests on his shoulder. His strong arm wraps around your back holding you close. Swaying to the notes playing in the air, you rest your head on his chest. Breathing in the scent of his cologne mixed with his natural musk. His cheek rests upon your head, pressing a gentle kiss in your hair.
Looking up, your eyes meet, foreheads touching. His eyes alone are enough to speak a thousand words for him. They tell you everything he doesn’t.
They compliment you. Say how much they adore you. They say, ‘I need you!’
In this silent conversation your free hand moves to cup his cheek. The sweet touch makes him sigh into you. Reachin up he holds your wrist to kiss your palm. His eyes, never leaving yours. You can’t help the giggle that leaves your throat. The sweet yet sensual motion creates butterflies in your stomach.
Releasing you, allowing your hand to resume its place on his shoulder as his, goes to rest on your hip.
“You know I love you, right?” He says. A flirtatious glint in his eye.
“Well of course you do. It’s only natural.” You say playfully making him laugh. His toothy grin makes your heart flutter.
“Is that so? Then tell me Y/n, what else is ‘only natural’?”
Your breath gets caught in your throat for a moment. No matter how long you’ve been together he still somehow manages to make you flustered and giddy. Biting your lip in thought, you smile.
“Well, ignoring the fact you’re a demon and I’m a human.” You start. Pulling another low chuckle from the blonde. “I’d say, this moment and every other moment shared between us is. Being with you, whether in sweatpants on your bed or dressed up like we are now, every minute spent with you is perfect.”
“So you’re telling me I didn’t have to do all this then? I wished you told me sooner, it would’ve saved me a lot of time” He says with a chuckle and slapping his shoulder only made him laugh harder. But you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.
“You think you’re so funny, huh?”
“Well I’d like to think I’m quite humorous” He says, pulling your waist into his. Leaning down for a kiss but you pull away.
“Is that so? Then prove it.”
He studies your challenging eyes. Kissing his teeth he accepts your jab. “Ok. Then how do you suspect I’ll do that?”
“Hmm.” You look to the side, pondering the question. Then an idea popped in your head. “Ok Mr. Humorous, why don’t you prove to me just how fun you can be by jumping into the pond.” You say, holding back a smile. Seeing him process your request, you are about to laugh when you see him beginning to take off his blazer. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m doing as you asked.” He says with a smirk.
You watch him remove his blazer and button up, followed by his shoes and socks. Standing straight in all his shirtless glory you take a moment to appreciate his physique. His smooth skin stretched over toned muscles. The flexing of his arm as he moves to sweep his hair back to look at you.
“What are you waiting for? Take off your shoes, unless you want to get them dirty.” He says. You let out a hum as his words shake you from your thoughts. He laughs, as if knowing what had you distracted. “You didn’t really think I’d be walking out there alone did you? I expect you to help me out since you’re the reason I’m going to be in there.”
“Fine. But only if I get to push you in.” You say taking off your shoes. He smiles at your requirement.
“Fine by me.”
Holding your jacket over your head to shield yourself from the rain as much as possible you and Satan begin to walk across the grass.
At the pond Satan turns to you, “So are you gonna push me in or do I have to jump in?” Laughing at his question but mostly at his appearance. Already drenched without stepping a single foot into the water.
“Oh I’m gonna push you in.” You say. Inching to the edge of the pond, ready to push Satan in. When your hands make contact with his hot skin a hand wraps around your wrist and before you knew it you were going down with him.
Splashing into the water you come up gasping at the frigid temperature. “Satan!” You say splashing water in his face. All you can hear is the rain and the hearty laugh coming from the demon’s chest. Slicking your hair out of your face you look at the man still laughing. “It’s not funny!” Though despite your words you couldn’t suppress the laugh that comes out of your mouth as well.
“It’s pretty funny if you ask me.”
“That was not part of the deal.”
“Well actually, our deal was you get to push me in. Nowhere in that agreement did we state I couldn’t pull you in with me.” He says, stepping closer to you. His strong arms holding you close edging away the cold around you.
“Well remind me next time to cover all bases because that was cheap and you know it.”
“They don’t call me a demon for nothing.” He says. His voice low, a small smirk playing his lips. Droplets of water fall from the loose strands of hair around his face.
“You look like a wet dog.” You say, pushing his wet hair back.
“I think we both do but that doesn’t matter, right? What was it you said earlier? No matter where we are, as long as we are together, it's perfect? Well to that I couldn’t agree more.” His words make you smile, warmth fills your chest. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. Once your lips touch the arms around your body tightens, lifting you up. Encircling your legs around his waist your kiss deepens. Your tongues dancing with one another. The taste and feeling of him sends electricity through you. Your fingers coil in his wet locks. Everything around you faded away. You couldn’t feel the rain or hear the music playing in the house anymore. Your senses are completely consumed by him. His touch. His smell. Everything. You wanted it all. You couldn’t care less where you were at this moment. You’d sooner let yourself drown in the water around you than let go of him. How can one person have such an affect on you?
Pulling away, both catching your breaths, your foreheads resting against each other. Though separated, the heat between you two is ever-present. His large hand cradles your cheek, keeping you close. His eyes shut for a moment to collect himself before looking back to you. His gaze is softer than before,
“I love you more than you know. Thank you for being mine.” Your chest swells. Stocking his cheek you kiss his lips once more.
“You don’t need to thank me, Satan. But I will ask you to warn me next time you decide to throw me in water.” You tease, but you both know you don’t really mind how things turned out.
“Let’s go back inside and warm up by the fire.” He smirks.
“I’d love that.”
Satan carried you back to the study where the rest of the night was spent by the fire where many more heated touches were shared. Maybe getting soaked in the rain wasn’t so bad after all.
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Oh lord she can never post anything on time or in a timely manner huh? . . . Nope! :)
But I hope you enjoyed this somewhat. I know it’s not perfect but I still think it’s pretty cute. Cheesy ... but cute :3
I hope you had a good Valentines day with your 2D or 3D baes.
Till next post ~
💛💛💛
#obey me!#shall we date obey me#shall we date#obey me satan#shall we date satan#satan#satan x reader#x gn reader#obey me x reader#fluff#valentines day
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All is Calm
Square Filled: Impala for @spngenrebingo & Huddle for Warmth for @spnchristmasbingo
Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam mostly mentioned
Word Count: 2445
Summary: Dean been distracted by hunting lately, but he’s fully focused now. Everything is clear to him.
Created for @spngenrebingo & @spnchristmasbingo
Dean was usually so good about keeping Baby maintained and in top condition. Her oil was always changed hundreds of miles before it needed to be, the air pressure and tread on her tires was checked on practically a weekly basis along with her fluid levels. Some people might say he was obsessive about his car. You’d come to understand she was more than just a car to him, and the way he cared for her was the way he cared for anything and anyone that mattered to him.
It was one of the many admirable qualities about Dean. You had noticed this softer side of his in so many small ways since you’d met him. Along with that softness, he possessed a driven determination. That determination pushed him to keep hunting the next monster, save the next person, do what he could to make the world better. That was why Baby hadn’t been receiving her usual amount of attention lately, too many monsters in the world. That was also the reason the two of you were stuck in the middle of nowhere Montana right now. Baby had a dead battery.
That was bad enough, but it was the week before Christmas, and in Montana that meant full fledged winter. Walking out of here wasn’t an option. The last town you’d passed through was thirty miles back, and new snow was beginning to fall. Even worse, the cell signal out here was so weak Dean had barely gotten to say ten words to Sam before the line went dead. He reassured you that was enough for his tech geek brother to turn on the GPS and find you. You just had to wait it out.
Fortunately, Baby’s trunk contained not only every weapon known to humankind but also sleeping bags and blankets in the compartment beneath those weapons. Dean fetched those and covered the backseat with a sleeping bag, leaving the other covers in a pile for now, then he motioned for you to get inside with a lopsided smile, “We’re going to have to make the best of it until Sam gets here.”
Sam didn’t drive the way Dean did, but he could be fast enough when the situation called for it. Still, it would take hours for him to get here. That was a long time with the temperature dropping the way it was. You tried to sound more sure that the two of you would make it through this okay than you felt. “What are we going to do exactly?” The uncertainty was in your voice in spite of your best efforts, and you knew Dean could hear it based on his reaction. He went into joking and downplaying the situation mode.
“We’re gonna get under those blankets and sing Christmas carols. I have a fabulous voice.” He held the car door open and swept his arm gallantly toward the interior and the back seat. You climbed in and Dean followed, closing the door behind him.
It wasn’t the first time you’d been in Baby’s backseat by any means, but it was the first time you had been here with Dean. You knew it wasn’t the first time Dean had been back here either; the difference was he wasn’t a passenger when he was in the backseat of this car. Better not to think about that right now. You were in danger of freezing to death; you could think about your crush and deal with your jealousy tomorrow after you survived.
Dean reached around you, grabbed the other sleeping bag, and settled it around the two of you; then he did the same with a blanket. His final move was to put his arms around you and draw you in close to him. He rested his chin on top of your head and dropped the bravado. “I’m gonna keep you warm, Y/N. It’ll be okay.”
His body was warm, but as the last of the heat disappeared from the inside of the car, you could feel the cold gathering around the little cocoon Dean had made. You weren’t going to let yourself be scared. You were with Dean, and he would take care of you. You tried to snuggle closer to him, but you were already about as close as you could get. So, you tried to distract yourself. “What about those Christmas songs, Dean?”
He rubbed his hand along your back to create more warmth. “I kinda exaggerated that a little. I can’t sing at all.” You put your head on his shoulder and sighed, only it wasn’t the contented kind; it was much more the “I can make it through this” kind of sigh. Dean tried to redirect your thoughts with a different approach. “I can tell stories though.”
“Really?” You didn’t lift your head from his shoulder and slipped your hand beneath his jacket. Dean took it for what it was, a gesture to keep warm, but it was more than that to you. It comforted you to feel him closer. “Tell me one. Tell me a Christmas story.”
“Well...um...I don’t really have too many Christmas memories, but I’ll tell you what I’d like to do.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I felt your hand slide across my stomach and come to a stop on my ribs. Under different circumstances, it wouldn’t be long before I’d be kissing you. It’d be the kind of kiss that was hot and previewed what else I was about to do to you. We weren’t in those kind of circumstances. I should have gotten you in the back of this car before now and made out with you the way I couldn’t stop thinking about. I should have done a lot of things, but now here we are. You want to hear a Christmas story, so I’m going to tell you what I should have done about Christmas.
“When we get back to the bunker…” That’s it. Keep the focus on we are going to get out of here. “I’m going to get a tree, and we’re going to find some ornaments. I bet the Men of Letters stashed some somewhere in that place. Or, we’ll buy some. But we’re going to decorate that thing. You, me, and Sam. It’ll be a big one too. You can decide where we put it. Where do you think the tree should go?”
You shifted against me. You still felt warm enough, but I wish there was a way I could keep you warmer. It’s my fault you’re in this mess. How could I be this stupid? I’ve been taking care of this car since I was a kid. This is probably the biggest fuck up of my life, and there’s plenty to choose from. You answer my question, pulling me out of the downward spiral I’m in. “I think it should go in the library, so we see it as soon as we come into the bunker. And we spend the most time there. Maybe we could get another tiny one for the kitchen to look at while we eat?”
You love Christmas trees. Why didn’t I ever know that? You love them, and I haven’t gotten you a single fucking one the whole time you’ve been living with us. “Yeah. Sure we can get a little one too. We’ll make strings of popcorn to put on it like they did in those Christmas movies Sam watched when we were kids.” I realized then it was Sam who’d watched the movies and the reindeer cartoons. Sam had wanted Christmas too, and I’d just blocked the whole thing out. Christmas had probably gone up in flames on the ceiling for me the night my mother died. I regret that now.
What else was in those movies Sam used to watch? “We’ll make hot chocolate too, with whipped cream, and stick a candy cane in it. We can wrap presents together. Maybe you could teach me how to wrap them better so they look pretty good?”
Your hand felt so small on me, and your voice was quiet. “Yes, I’ll teach you how to wrap presents. There should be a lot of presents under the tree. You haven’t had many presents, Dean, and you should have. You deserve presents.” Where did that come from?
“I...I don’t know about that, but you do.” You were beginning to feel colder to my touch. I needed to do something. “Y/N, let’s lie down, sweetheart.” Hopefully, full body contact would make you warmer. I lay you down on the seat and stretched out next to you so the entire length of my body was against you. I made sure a blanket was pulled up behind you to cover the seat of the Impala because it was probably warmer than the leather.
You put your cheek on my neck, seeking out the warmth I had to give you. “You okay, Y/N?” You nodded but didn’t answer out loud. I didn’t like the quiet. It was better to keep you talking. “What do you want for Christmas this year? I’ll make sure Santa knows.”
That made you laugh. “Is Santa real too? Have you been holding out on me?”
Yeah, I’ve been holding out on you, but not about Santa Claus. “I could get a message to him. What do you want?”
You giggled, and it was a beautiful sound. “I want some Christmas pajamas.” I could picture you in something like that. It was cute and sexy. “Will you get some too? And Sam? We could have matching pajamas. Like a family.” Wait a minute. Did you just put me in the brother category? And why was I worried about that now?
“Sure, sweetheart. I’ll tell Santa to get us all Christmas pajamas.” It’s going to take one hell of a bribe to get Sam to go along with this one.
Then you surprised me because you asked, “Dean, what do you want?” I had no idea how to answer that question. The things I wanted couldn’t be put inside a box or under a Christmas tree.
Hell with it. I’m just going to be honest. “I want you and Sam to be happy.” That sounded a little like I was making you a sister which I’m definitely not, so maybe you didn’t brother zone me before.
You kissed my cheek, and it warmed me inside, making me forget how cold it was on the outside for a few seconds. “I want you to be happy too, Dean.”
It wasn’t the right time or place, but I put my finger under your chin, tilted your face up, and kissed you. It was a soft kiss, a kiss to tell you what I was afraid to say, what I’ve always been afraid to say, afraid to even admit until we’re in a situation like this, until I can’t push it away or distract myself with something that doesn’t matter nearly as much. I love you. But I can’t tell you that now because it might sound like some kind of deathbed confession, and I can’t let you think you’re going to die. You’re not; I won’t let you die.
One thing my father did that I am very thankful for at this moment was teach me how to survive. I hope you understand what I’m about to do. In this kind of cold, you need body heat. Direct body heat; our clothes are in the way. They’ve got to go. Your eyes are starting to drift closed, and that can’t happen.
I lift your head up, and you slowly open your eyes. “Hey, Y/N. Stay with me. Okay? Keep your eyes open. Let me see how beautiful they are. Look at me, Y/N.” I put my hands on your cheeks and hold your face steady to keep you focused on me. “I need to get you warmer. My body can do that if I take off my clothes. It’ll be warmer that way. Okay?” You nod at me. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest. I’m scared, but I steady my voice for you. “Then, I’m going to take yours off, so our skin is touching.” You nod again.
“Alright.” I kiss your forehead then take my jacket off, thinking I can put that on top of you later too. I take the rest of my clothes off and get back under the sleeping bag. I notice the snow is falling heavy outside. I hope Sam can find the car when he gets here. I’m careful when I take your clothes off to keep you under the covers.
When everything is gone, it’s just you pressed up close against me. I’ve got to keep you awake, keep you talking. “When we get back home, I’m going to take you on a real date. The least I can do is take you to dinner after you got naked with me.” You smile at my stupid joke. That’s good. “We’ll go to Lawrence. I’ll show you where I grew up. There’s this steakhouse there that I can barely remember, but my dad used to take my mom there. They couldn’t afford a babysitter, so I went along. They had these menus for kids you could draw on, and I always got crayons. I colored everything blue. I remember my mom laughed about that.”
This was too far down memory lane. I was probably boring you. “Do you like steak? We could have seafood instead, or Italian, or something. Anything you want.”
“I like sweet potatoes. Can you get a sweet potato with your steak?” Crap. I don’t know. You couldn’t thirty years ago, but you couldn’t get sweet potatoes anywhere then.
“You want sweet potatoes? We’ll go somewhere where they have sweet potatoes.” I kiss the top of your head again. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. We can go to a real city if you want. Go somewhere really fancy. Dallas maybe. Do you want to see the lights of the big city?”
The only answer I got was, “You’re so warm, Dean. You feel so good.”
I put my hand on the back of your head and held it. “I’m gonna make you say that under different circumstances.” My joke, that wasn’t really a joke, wasn’t working this time.
I wasn’t sure you even heard me, but then you whispered, “Promise?”
“Promise.” A single tear slid down my cheek.
The knock on the window was loud; it made me jump, but you didn’t notice. “Dean! Dean!” I have never been so happy to hear my brother. We’re going home, and you’re going to have those pajamas.
Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @ledzeppelinsbonzo @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @neveratease @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @maddiepants @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @oldfreakything @winchesterxfamilybusiness @deansotherotherblog
Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @sammit-janet @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05
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Cold and Broken
PAIRING: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
WARNINGS: Language, injuries, hypothermia, one-sided conversations
WORD COUNT: 3682
SQUARE FILLED: Huddling for warmth for @star-spangled-bingo and Damaged vocal cords for @badthingshappenbingo
“Hang in there. Just a little bit more. Come on.”
You nodded, clinging to Bucky’s metal arm. You were dragging your right foot behind you, one arm clutched to what you were sure were broken ribs. You couldn’t speak, since the HYDRA operatives you’d been tracking had been enhanced—something you weren’t expecting—and one had nearly crushed your throat before Bucky got the upper hand on him.
A muscle in his jaw twitched every time he glanced back at you, because as soon as his eyes met yours, they’d flick down to the still spreading dark purple bruises on your neck. You’d tried to pull your suit higher, but without a scarf, there wasn’t much you could do to hide.
Speaking of a scarf, it was fucking freezing. Snow swirled all around you, the cold biting through your suit. Holding onto Bucky’s metal arm was like clinging to a block of ice, and you were honestly afraid your fingers may be stuck to it. You really wished you’d listened to Steve and gone with at least the fingerless gloves.
The HYDRA base had some sort of technology that made your comms die almost instantly, and even escaping the base—leaving no survivors behind—hadn’t changed anything. You had faith that Steve or Nat or maybe even Clint would figure it out soon and come save you, but there was no way you were waiting around all the blood and bodies, and there was no way you and Bucky could just sit outside and wait in the blizzard you were currently trudging through.
You swallowed and gave a hoarse whine, and Bucky glanced back at you, jaw muscle twitching before he nodded.
“Little bit further. Can you make it?”
You nodded, wincing as a pain shot through your body. Bucky blew out a breath, pulling you closer, turning to face you.
“There should be a safe house right behind those trees. Can you make it that far?”
You looked out towards where he was talking, your face falling when you saw the distance to the trees. You took in a deep breath and winced, eyes meeting his. You were trying—really, you were—but you were exhausted. Every inch of your body hurt, and Bucky nodded.
“It’s okay. You’ve done so good. Here.”
He turned around and you shook your head, gripping his flesh shoulder. He glanced back at you and shook his head, snow flying from his hair.
“You can’t walk that far. I can get us there quicker than you putting yourself through more pain. It won’t be pain-free, but let me carry you.”
You exhaled, staring into his blue-gray eyes, then nodded. You gasped as you climbed onto his back, doing your best to breathe through the pain, but tears were in your eyes when you were finally settled.
“I’m sorry, kid.”
You nodded, wrapping your arms around him and tapping the side of his neck. Bucky nodded.
“Just hang tight.”
You put your head down, face in his hair as he started walking. It jarred you at first, but you grit your teeth and soon got used to the rhythm of Bucky walking. You could feel his body heat through his suit, and you closed your eyes as your chest and stomach started to warm.
“Y/N? Hey. Hey, don’t fall asleep. Come on, kid.”
You blinked heavy eyes open, glancing around. You lifted your face from Bucky’s dark hair, sliding off his back and landing on the front porch of a cabin. You looked up at him and he nodded, twisting the doorknob and walking inside. You waited by the door, stepping further inside when you couldn’t take the cold anymore.
“All clear.”
You sank against the wall, rubbing shaking hands together and blowing into them, wincing when that hurt both your ribs and your throat. Bucky walked into the room and saw you, and he walked over to loop your arm around his neck, picking you up and carrying you to the sofa. He sat you down and threw the blanket on the back over your shoulders. You nodded to him and tried to smile, and he gave you a forced smile back as he knelt before you.
“I’m going to start a fire, okay? See if I can’t get you warm.”
You poked a numb finger into his chest and he rolled his eyes.
“Don’t worry about me.”
You poked him again and he gave a soft laugh.
“You’re shivering so hard I’d think that couch was a vibrator if I sat beside you.”
Your eyes widened and Bucky laughed again. He patted your knee and stood up, and you tried to pull the blanket tighter around you.
He had a fire going in no time, the logs crackling and popping as the flames burned through them. Bucky lifted the sofa and pushed it closer to the fireplace, and you held out your hands, wincing as you reached for warmth. Bucky grabbed a few more blankets and surrounded you with them, and you’d at least stopped shivering. You still felt cold, so you knew Bucky must feel the same, but he wouldn’t stop moving for you to ask. He did find a pen and a notepad, so you were at least not gesturing anymore.
He always glanced your way whenever he made it into the room, whether to throw another log on the fire or check your blanket nest or—his best idea yet—finding a pot in the kitchen and filling it with snow, boiling it over the fire so you’d at least have something to drink.
You held a cup of the cooled snow water in your hands, wincing every time you swallowed. Bucky walked into the room and you tapped your pen against the notepad, getting his attention. He lifted his eyebrows when he looked at you and you held up the notepad.
Would you PLEASE sit down?
He huffed out a breath.
“I had to check every nook and cranny around here, make sure we’re safe.”
You scribbled across the notepad.
You did that 3 times already. Relax.
Bucky sighed. He narrowed his eyes at you and you raised an eyebrow at him, and he finally acquiesced, walking over and sitting beside you on the sofa. He exhaled, and you reached over, patting his flesh arm. He turned and grabbed your hand, shaking his head.
“Jesus, Y/N. You’re freezing.”
You pointedly looked at the blankets around you and nodded at the fire, but Bucky shook his head.
“It’s not enough. You’re going to catch hypothermia. And with your ribs broken the way they are …”
He swallowed, and you raised an eyebrow. Bucky shook his head, unfastening the buckles on his suit. Both of your eyebrows jumped to your hairline when he shook off the jacket, pulling the tank over his head and standing before you in some serious shirtless glory. You blinked and he started unwrapping blankets from around you. You shook your head and he hung his, letting out a breath before lifting his head and staring into your eyes.
“Your lips are blue. Don’t even try and start with me.”
You opened your mouth and he glared at you. You shut your mouth, unwrapping the blankets around you and giving a full-body shiver. Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open when you looked to Bucky, who was cursing under his breath, now clad in just his boxers.
“Buck—“
“Don’t talk. Christ, you sound like you’ve gargled glass.”
You shook your head and he rolled his eyes.
“Body heat is the quickest way to warm you up.”
You opened your mouth and he closed his eyes, shaking his head. You leaned forward and grabbed the notepad, handwriting shaky this time.
I don’t think I can take my suit off.
Bucky’s lips moved as he read the message, and you watched him swallow before he nodded.
“Can you stand? I’ll help you.”
You nodded, gasping and shivering when you were free from the blankets. Bucky helped you stand, made sure you were steady on your sprained ankle—at least, that’s what you hoped it was—then leaned around you, picking up the sofa and pushing it closer to the fire.
He came back and stood before you, and you pointed to your back. He moved a bit, finding the zipper at your neckline, slowly unzipping your suit. You shivered, giving a hoarse moan when the chill in the cabin hit your now bare skin. Bucky unfastened your bra before you could say anything about it, stepping in front of you and pulling you to his chest. You gasped, moaning brokenly before burrowing closer to him.
“Shit, baby. You should have said something. God, you’re freezing.”
You nodded, putting your face in his neck. Bucky cursed again, rubbing his flesh arm up and down your back.
“My damn arm …”
He sighed, and you wobbled a bit, both of his arms coming around you to steady you.
“Easy. Here, let’s sit down.”
You nodded, letting him lead you to the sofa. You sat down, hunching over towards the fire, moaning softly when that tugged at your broken ribs. Bucky fixed blankets around you, then crawled onto the sofa behind you, pulling you to his chest. You gave a low keen, and Bucky shushed you, rubbing his flesh hand up and down your arm before pulling the blankets around the two of you.
You sat like that for a while, huddled together in the blankets by the roaring fire, Bucky’s flesh arm gently caressing you while he tried to keep his metal arm away from you. You leaned your head back against his and he turned his head, touching his forehead to your temple. You let your hand drift down to the back of his, slowly tracing letters.
B A B Y
“‘Baby?’”
You nodded, tapping his wrist. Bucky moved his head to your ear, growling the words there, making you giggle.
“Are you having delusions? Hearing things? You may be worse off than I thought.”
You shook your head, reaching up and scratching his stubbled chin. He sighed, shifting a bit, pulling you closer.
“I guess I let it slip, huh?”
You nodded, shifting your position, sitting sideways in his lap, head on his shoulder. He sighed again, resting his head atop yours.
“I just … I didn’t mean … “
He blew out a breath.
“It took me off-guard how cold your touch was. I didn’t realize how cold you still were. The damn serum or whatever I’ve got keeps me from getting too hot or too cold, but I should have been thinking about you.”
You shook your head, clutching his flesh arm. He glanced down at you, licking his lips.
“You’re tired, aren’t you?”
You nodded, widening your eyes and shaking your head. Bucky smiled, cupping your chin in his flesh hand.
“You don’t have to be scared. And you don’t have to stay awake for me. You’re warming up. I’ll keep watch, keep an eye out for the quinjet. Rest.”
You nodded, sitting up and moving until you were backwards in his lap, your soft breasts pressed against his chest. Bucky gave a soft groan, pulling you closer. Within seconds, you were asleep, wrapped in his warmth, and Bucky stretched out on the couch, twisting until you were laying beside him. He tucked as many blankets around you as he could, putting your back to the fire, staring at your sleeping face, the few wispy hairs that had escaped the bun on top of your head that Nat must have helped you with.
Bucky sighed, feeling his own eyes grow heavy. He blinked and widened his eyes, staring into the fire. You snuggled closer to him, and he let his arms hold you tighter. Surely someone would notice the smoke from the chimney. If not, they’d see his multiple SOS from around the house and come find them.
He shifted a bit on the sofa, holding you close, resting his head atop yours. He wouldn’t be any good to you exhausted. Just a few minutes of shuteye is all he’d need, and he’d be back in fighting shape. His eyes slid closed as one of the logs broke in the fireplace, sending sparks flying up the chimney and a burst of heat towards your back.
“Shit. I found them!”
Steve dropped his shield as he ran to the couch, breath visible when he exhaled.
“Damn it. Come on. Come on, guys.”
He unwrapped blankets from the bodies on the couch, neither of which were responding to his pleas. He untangled the last blanket to discover you on top of Bucky, both of you clad only in your underwear. Steve reached a shaky hand to press two fingers under your jaw, giving a breath of relief. He moved his hand to Bucky’s neck, giving a breathy laugh when he felt the slow throb of Bucky’s heart.
“Goddamn it, Steve. Give us a status report!”
Steve sat back on his heels, one finger going to the piece in his ear.
“They’re alive.”
Breaths of relief seemed to echo in his ear. He shook his head, speaking again as he tucked blankets back around the two of you, surveying your bodies as best he could
“Y/N has severe bruising to her neck.”
“How severe?”
“From ear to ear, Tony. God, her throat looks horrible.”
The comms were quiet, until Tony spoke up again.
“What about Barnes?”
“No visible bruises. They’re both alive, but unresponsive.”
“Probably hypothermic.”
“Definitely. Looks like they had a fire going and they’re huddled together under a ton of blankets, but they’re still cold.”
“Together?”
Mumbles sounded in his ear and Steve rolled his eyes. He glanced out the window and spoke again.
“Looks like the jet could land fairly close to this cabin.”
“We’re almost there, Cap. Think you can get them out yourself?”
Steve pursed his lips, then nodded. He started to try and pick you up, pulling you away from Bucky, but Bucky weakly grabbed onto you, holding you close and giving a quiet grunt. Steve let you go, watching Bucky calm a bit and smiled.
“On second thought, I may need a little backup.”
“Y/N? Hey. Can you hear me?”
You did hear something, but it sounded like you were underwater.
“Come on, honey. Open your eyes.”
You didn’t want to. It was nice and dark and warm where you were, and you wanted to stay there.
Wait.
Warm?
You groaned, feeling a gentle pressure on your hand.
“Easy. Take it easy, Y/N. Take it slow.”
It felt like a chore, and honestly took a lot of work, but you finally opened your eyes. You turned to see Tony sitting beside your bed, a soft smile on his face.
“There you are. Hi there.”
You blinked and he nodded.
“How you feeling?”
You lifted a shaky hand to your throat and he nodded.
“Yeah you, uh … You had us all worried. Your vocal cords were damaged pretty badly, but with as quiet as you’ve been … still, Dr. Cho wants you to rest your voice as much as you can.”
“And that’s why I’m here.”
You turned your head to see Clint at the foot of your bed. He smiled at you, moving his hands as he signed while he spoke.
“They knew you were pretty good at sign language, so we decided to have me translate until Cho gives you the go-ahead to talk again.”
You raised an eyebrow and Clint grinned at you.
“Hey, I can do it. I won’t even lie and tell them you’re saying nothing but bad words.”
You smiled, turning your head and giving a deep sigh. You patted your side, noticing then how bandaged up you were. You looked back to Tony and he nodded.
“Four, five, and six are broken on the right, eight and nine on the left.”
You looked to Clint and finger spelled F-O-O-T. He nodded.
“Broke your right ankle.”
You let your head fall back to the pillows and he smiled.
“Please. I’ve had worse.”
Tony didn’t need an interpreter when you held your middle finger up to Clint, the two of them laughing softly. You looked back to Clint, fingerspelling another word. He gave you a soft smile.
“He’s alright. They had a time warming him up, but he’s doing better now.”
You furrowed your brows, hands slowly moving. Clint watched for a moment, then nodded.
“Yeah, you both were badly hypothermic when we finally got to you. There’d been a fire, but it was long burned out.”
You shook your head and Tony patted your shoulder.
“It took us almost two days to find you.”
You looked back to Clint, motioning again.
“He’s okay, babe. I promise.”
You signed again and Clint’s eyebrows raised before he slowly nodded.
“Yeah, I’ll get him.”
“Barton, if you’re going to translate, you’ve got to do it both ways.”
“She just said she wants to see him. I said I’d get him.”
Tony rolled his eyes and you smiled at him. You nodded and he sighed.
“Don’t scare us like that again, got it?”
You nodded, and he leaned up, kissing your forehead before standing up and opening the door.
“Goddamn it, Barton, I said I’m fine. Ain't nothing wrong with my legs.”
“Clearly something’s wrong with your ears, though. Cho said take it easy—“
“And that means I can’t even walk?”
“Stop being such a whiny baby. Nothing’s wrong with her ears.”
Clint pushed a wheelchair into your room, and you smiled at the sight of a clearly grumpy Bucky. His face softened when he saw you, leaning forward and taking your hand when Clint rolled him close to your bed.
“Hey, sunshine. How you feeling?”
You shook your head, pushing your hand away from your chest and Clint laughed.
“Lousy, she says.”
Bucky held your eyes for a minute, then spoke.
“Hey, Barton? Can you give us a minute?”
“Oh, I’ve been hired to translate.”
“I think I can handle her for a few minutes.”
“But I —“
“Clint.”
Bucky glanced over his shoulder. Clint looked to you and you nodded, and he raised his eyebrows before he turned and walked out. You looked to Bucky and he sighed. He shook his head, reaching out and laying his hand on yours.
“I’m sorry.”
You shook your head and he gave your hand a squeeze.
“No, I … I should have taken better care of you. I fell asleep and—“
You sat up, wincing with your broken ribs, laying a finger against his lips. Bucky closed his eyes, reaching up and taking hold of your hand. You smiled, resting back against the pillows. There was a whiteboard and a marker on your bedside table, and Bucky grabbed it, handing it to you. You wrote for a moment, then turned the board around for him to read.
You saved me.
Bucky swallowed, shaking his head. You nodded and he blew out a breath.
“But I should never have fallen asleep. I should have kept the fire going, made sure you were warm.”
You underlined the words, forcefully motioning the board towards him again. He hung his head and you set the board aside, scooting closer to him and reaching out to hold his face in your hands. He lifted his head and you felt him swallow before he shook his head, moving closer to you until his lips were touching yours.
You swear your heart stopped, but your brain kicked in and you kissed him back. He broke away and settled his forehead against yours, giving a sigh.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”
He laughed when you pinched his side and he nodded, never moving his head from yours.
“I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner. I should have, before I almost let you freeze to death.”
He yelped when you pinched him again, pulling his head back to glare at you. You smiled, lifting a hand to his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone. He leaned into the touch and you took his metal hand, lacing your fingers with his. Bucky glanced down at your joined hands and nodded.
“Tony said he’s going to work on some upgrades. Temperature regulation or something. Maybe some way we can cover the metal with something smoother? Or warmer? I didn’t really understand the intricacies of what he was saying.”
You nodded and rolled your eyes, and Bucky smiled.
“Right. It’s Tony. Who can understand him? Besides Pepper?”
You mouthed “Pepper” at the same time Bucky said her name, and the two of you shared a smile before Bucky sighed.
“I really want to kiss you again.”
You raised an eyebrow and he smiled as he ducked his head.
“I don’t know what I’m waiting on. I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
You rolled your eyes, pulling your hand from his and settling back against your pillows. You motioned with your head and his eyes widened.
“What about when your audience comes back in?”
You grabbed the whiteboard and scribbled on it, turning it so Bucky could read.
They found us wrapped up together in our underwear. If they’re surprised by us making out, it’s their own damn fault.
Bucky laughed when he read your message, then nodded. He climbed up onto the bed with you, laying on his side, brushing your hair away from your face.
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long.”
You shook your head and he nodded, focusing on his hand in your hair.
“I’m probably going to be a mess sometimes. Just … don’t give up on me?”
You reached up to hold his wrist, grabbing the whiteboard again.
I’m not going anywhere.
Bucky smiled, nodding his head. His eyes met yours and you set the whiteboard aside, then looked into his blue-gray eyes again. You mouthed the words, careful to make no sound.
Kiss me.
Bucky grinned, nodding as he moved closer to you, the two of you huddled together once again, this time for a different sort of warmth.
#SSB2020#star spangled bingo 2020#bad things happen bingo#marvel reader insert#mcu fanfiction#mcu fic#marvel fanfiction#mcu#bucky barnes x reader#reader insert#avengers fic
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#29 i have a fetish this week, i guess lol.
29: a kiss on the inside of the wrist.
Wind whipped her hair back to thrash in the breeze, and Kagome tightened her coat around her. One of Miroku and Sango's twins inched a little too close to the edge, and the miko quickly snatched her up before she could fall.
"Careful," she smiled, tapping the cute munchkin's nose.
Hachi was generously giving them a lift to the former Demon Slayer's Village where Kohaku awaited them. It was thankfully faster than travelling on foot. Kagome couldn't help but stare wistfully at the passing scenery, mind cast adrift.
"Don't worry, Lady Kagome!" Miroku called from up front, "we're making good time."
"Hm?"
"You looked a little bored," he chuckled.
Kagome blushed and noticed Sango staring. "N-no! I was just wondering if the village would be alright without us," she lied, feeling terrible that her priorities were so missed up that she wasn't worried about them.
"Inuyasha is there to protect everyone, try to relax. This is meant to be a break," Sango smiled.
Nodding, she returned it, playing with their twin's feet and causing her to giggle.
After a few moments of being left alone to her thoughts however, Kagome naturally fell back into her musings. She began recalling that night. That fateful rainy night Sesshoumaru had extended an offer to her that would change the nature of their relationship forever.
----
Rain poured hard, pelting her shoulders like icy needles. Kagome shuddered miserably, arms curled tight around herself as she hurried towards a tree. Ducking down against the bark gave her mild relief, feeling only small droplets reach her from the position. She sighed heavily, breath fanning out visible.
In retrospect, navigating by night from the Bone Eater's Well towards the village hadn't been a wise decision without a torch. ‘I'd been in too much of a hurry to leave.’
Mindling soaked dark strands back from her damp forehead, Kagome blinked and squinted into the darkness. Something was flying through the rain filled skies. Faint green flames could be seen like flickering stars. They drew closer, a black square shape becoming visible.
Kagome wasn't sure what to make of it. The structure resembled an ancient Japanese court carriage, the shutters thick black lacquer to ensure privacy, lanterns hanging from the roof. Flowers patterned its side, carved into the wood in intricate, sprawling patterns and shining gold.
Instead of being pulled by a man or horse though, it was a demon drawn carriage. Small kappa-like demons ensured the carriage glided through the air smoothly. Kagome shivered. She could taste youki the air it seeped so thick and strong. Familiar...
The carriage hovered, lowering itself to muddy, rainsoaked ground. From the back, wooden blinds were turned and snapped up sharply, letting a thick haze of pipe smoke escape like a dusty exhale from a dragon.
Sesshoumaru gazed at her from within the carriage, endowed with more grandeur and finery than she'd ever seen him wear before. Usually his outfit comprised of refined beauty mixed with practicality and strength. Without battle armour, he looked softer. Lilac silks were patterned with his house crest. Earrings glittered upon pointed ears. An ornate pipe was held between deft fingers, and he took a drag, observing her with watchful curiosity.
"Are you going to stand there all night, miko?"
Kagome gaped and glanced around, wondering if Kaede had appeared or Kikyo had risen from the dead a fourth time. Surely he wasn't talking to her?
But sure enough, that flat, unimpressed gaze was mistakable. Kagome swallowed and hurried out from the shelter of the trees. Climbing up into the back entrance of the carriage, she found the space limited and swathed in furs. Cosy, but alarmingly close to Sesshoumaru. Their knees were almost touching as she sat opposite him. The blinds were snapped down over the exit before she could protest, her body swaying forward from momentum as the carriage ascended once more. Kagome quickly righted herself before she could land atop his lap.
Sesshoumaru observed her with mild amusement, tilting a regal chin up. "Is there a reason I find you by yourself?"
Kagome bristled and hugged her arms "I don't need Inuyasha to mind me like a child. I can do things on my own," she grumbled.
"Mn, so I have observed. You have often been alone lately, miko."
Her teeth ground, shivering violently. She jumped upon feeling plumes of lavish fur wrap around her shoulders. It practically drowned her in warmth. "T-thanks."
Busying himself with another languid drag, looking decadent yet exuding opulence, Sesshoumaru hummed. He seemed to be waiting for her to continue, so Kagome sighed and reluctantly elaborated.
"We broke up a few months ago. Things are still a little strained between us, is all. Why do you care?"
"I do not, this one is merely making conversation."
She frowned, gesturing to him. "Your turn. How come I find you cruising around Japan in this era's equivalent of a Porsche?"
"What is a Porsche?"
"It's a car."
"What is a-"
"We're getting off the subject," Kagome giggled, catching herself. Had she ever giggled around him before?
Sesshoumaru didn't seem to mind, now pouring himself some saké, "I am returning from a gathering of influential demons."
"Ohhh now I get it," her eyes danced. "You're drunk because of a party, that's why you're so amiable tonight. Makes sense."
Golden eyes immediately turned flat. They were relaxed and not as sharp as per the norm but awareness kept his pupils focused. "This is not my true form. I have not nearly consumed enough to become inebriated."
Kagome glanced him over, frowning when he offered her a cup of the clear liquid- ultimately shrugging and accepting it. Taking a tentative sip, she choked and coughed, blinking rapidly. "That tastes vile," the words came out as a squeak.
He sniffed primly, giving a haughty look and eyeing the cup. "...You are entirely correct. This is not good saké. Perhaps Lord Onozuka was attempting to poison me."
She nodded seriously. "My Grandpa's stuff is better- though at 18, it's technically illegal for me to have tried it. Don't tell anyone," a grin was working its way onto her mouth.
"Would not dream of it," his lips curved, honeyed gaze smiling. "Perhaps you are not as pure and innocent as first assumed, miko."
She abruptly lost her playful mood, glancing away with thin lips. Silence engulfed them, filling up with large consuming bursts of miserable scent as her emotions rolled turbulently. "...Surely...you can tell I'm not 'pure' anymore," Kagome mumbled. "Are you making fun of me?"
Sesshoumaru stared at her levelly, nostrils flaring. Winter lashes lowered slightly. "I could scent that you were no longer a virgin, but that has little to do with the purity of your soul, miko."
She sighed heavily, taking a sip of the alcohol and wincing. "It was wrong of me- n-not the sex part. I don't believe sex before marriage 'taints' someone or anything like that. It's just...I did it with someone I shouldn't have. My boyfriend..."
He arched a brow. "Is that not the term of a human male in a relationship?"
"Y-yeah, I'm not making sense, I know. Asahi was a rebound, we only dated a short time. That's the problem. I totally used him- and I feel terrible for it."
Violent shame twined with regret, tears pricking her eyes. She gripped the porcelain cup so hard it trembled in her hold. "Inuyasha moved on so quickly from our relationship. I-I thought there was something wrong with me, so I forced myself to date someone else. I'm lonely, sure, but that's no excuse. I wish I'd never done it- I should've just stayed far away from any relationship until I knew for sure I wasn't going to use the guy-"
Sesshoumaru's fingers wrapped around her hand, cutting her off mid-tirade. Her breath stalled, quelled by his calm gaze.
He huffed softly, claws lightly skimming sensitive skin. "First of all, foolish woman; did this Asahi boy seem dissatisfied or upset about being 'used?'"
"N-no...but he didn't get the full story."
"You do not owe him an explanation," Sesshoumaru rumbled, something tinging his voice. "He could not tell you were miserable, and knows nothing of your life here- furthermore would not understand. I see no reason to punish yourself thus for experiencing a moment of pleasure after months of distress."
She'd never heard him be so chatty before. Nonetheless, Kagome remained unconvinced, staring at her shoes miserably and attempting to lift the alcohol towards her lips- Sesshoumaru's grip preventing her.
Ever so slowly, in a way that turned her stomach inside out and sent a rush of heat shooting straight down to her core- Sesshoumaru lifted her occupied hand, brushing soft lips over the inside of her wrist.
"In light of this new information," he said quietly. "I feel something should be done to drastically alter your mindset on indulgence."
"W-what-" Kagome squeaked, swallowing and closing her eyes. When they slid open, the miko raised her chin, intrigue blooming like a fresh flower bud in her forget-me-not eyes. "What did you have in mind?" she breathed.
"I have a proposition for you."
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