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laiiaaa · 10 months

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CINNAMON SUGAR — CARMEN BERZATTO

summary Carmen comes home to you late at night. Luckily, you manage to stay awake.

length 2k

contents absolutely zero plot, literally just a sweet n cute n sappy moment existing in a vacuum, holy shit so much fluff i might die (got the idea for this while listening to margaret & let the light in by lana del rey n it's realllll obvious), too many kisses to count, this is what he'd be like after intensive therapy i reckon, not proofread so be nice

Carmen opens the door to the bedroom carefully, minding the creaky hinge in the middle of the night. Moonlight peeks through the window, caught at the right time when the city doesn’t block its path into the apartment, giving just enough glow to the room to see you fast asleep in bed. It’s late, he realizes, even later than usual. He needs to work on that.

He makes his way to the bed, stopping at your side to kneel beside you and simply adore you: the curve of your nose, the plush of your lips in that pout you wear only when you’re asleep, the eyelashes laid against your cheeks.

You stir when he presses his lips to your temple, a soft groan pulled from your lips. “…Bear?”

“Yeah, ‘s me, baby.” Even at a whisper, he thinks he’s too loud, and with his rough and tired hand he brushes over the top of your head just light enough to keep you sleepy.

A drowsy hand reaches out from under the covers to smooth over the contours of his face, tracing along shadows made hazy by a few hours’ rest. “You coming to bed soon?”

“Almost,” he murmurs, smoothing a palm up your exposed arm to hold your hand steady. He pulls ever so slightly away from your palm, only to turn to land gentle kisses against its soft skin, worshiping the pieces of you that treat him with more care than he thinks he’s worthy of. “Needa take a shower first, alright? But I’ll be right back.”

He could’ve done that much by now—could’ve cleaned himself, rid himself of a day's work before seeing you—but truthfully, waiting any longer would’ve driven him mad. He would’ve been itchy in the shower, skin aflame knowing he could’ve felt your touch by then, arms and hands jittering to have your curves beneath them. His lips trail down to your wrist before he turns over your hand to kiss the backs of your fingers.

“Okay,” you answer, muffled by the blankets and pillow and the squeak of the floorboard as Carmen stands back up.

He makes his trip quick and quiet. He brushes his teeth and swipes up a towel while the water heats up, leaving just enough time to hang it on the hook and strip before hopping in. There’s a beat where he closes his eyes and just breathes, clears his mind of the day’s stress, lets warm water saturate his hair and cascade down his back. He lathers his hair with shampoo—the one you bought for him once to free him from the chains of 3-in-1 and that he’s been purchasing ever since to keep you happy—before cleaning the rest of his body, all while thinking about how much better it’d feel, how much more relief he’d get if it were you beside him under the stream instead of just his thoughts. But with the shampoo and soap down the drain goes that idea, much like the fleeting thought of using conditioner. You’ve yet to get to him on that one, especially at a moment like this, when time is of the essence and you’re waiting on him. Maybe another night, when you take your own product and swirl it around his curls; if it gives him an excuse to stay with you just a few minutes more, he’ll do it.

He hops out of the water like it’s acid and wraps the towel around his waist after drying himself to avoid trouble in the morning (you hate when the floor gets wet, and even if it wastes time, he’ll be sure to prevent that). Out goes the light again as he walks into the hall, sneaking back into the bedroom to get dressed into briefs and nothing more—you’ll keep him warm enough under the blankets.

It’s only then—when he peels back those final layers—that he realizes he’s been smiling the whole time.

Once he’s settled into the grooves of the mattress, chest to your back, you’re turning around to curl into his torso, like a magnetic field brought you there.

“Hey,” he coos, “Y’don’t have to move f’me, yeah? Just sleep, baby.” Moved by your eagerness, his arms curl around you, one along your waist as the other nicely fits comfortably into the space between your neck and shoulder.

And yet you shift a little more to cast an arm against his chest, his heart beating beneath your palm, head on his shoulder with a leg hooked onto his hip, split halfway between mattress and his body. “ ‘S more comfy this way, Carm.” You sigh and breathe deep into his skin. “You smell good, too.”

He can’t even lie well enough to convince himself his heart doesn’t run a million miles faster when you cozy up to him like this, caught in a space part fatigue and part love, with your hums ringing in his ear. “ ‘S that shampoo you got me a while ago…Sometime this week—” he yawns, and if he weren’t dying to hear your voice a few more times, he’d be a little more thankful for sleep coming so easily— “Sometime this week we can go t’the store, you can pick out another body wash f’me to try, too.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” You smooth your hand from his chest to his neck and shoulder, massaging there gently where he gets sore as a barely-there kiss lands to the skin beneath you. “How was it today?” The restaurant. His headaches. Richie’s mood lately. The flow of the kitchen. The strain in his back.

“Was alright,” he answers, as honestly as he can, soothing himself by brushing a hand up along your spine. “Real busy, so I didn’t get to leave ‘till late, ‘m sorry.”

“ ‘S alright, I stayed in and just relaxed for the night.” You snuggle into him a little deeper, and he thinks he could melt. “I was gonna ask you to bring something home, but it’s a weekend, so I didn’t wanna bother you in a rush.”

“What’d you want?”

From your lips comes a light and airy giggle, milliseconds of the best sounds he’s ever heard. “I just wanted some fries, honestly…didn’t feel like going out.”

“Heh,” he laughs, smiling while his eyes stay glued to the ceiling—as if looking at you would make the moment disappear. “I would’ve picked ‘em up for you, ‘r at least had Fak get ‘em to you.”

You yawn in tandem with the tailend of his thought, so your answer’s a bit softer. “Uh-uh, I like them better when you make ‘em.”

“Yeah? ‘ve I been pampering you too much?” He teases you, adds on a kiss to the top of your head as he squeezes you a bit tighter, but it’s all a ruse to cover up how much faster his pulse is when you say those words, like all the work he’s put in—all the love he has for you—makes its way to the table for not just anyone, but for you, the one person he’s sure matters more than the rest. More than those fucking stars, more than Chef of the Year, more than any critic’s review, more than he can wrap his head around; he feels it in his chest and that’s enough.

“Of course you have,” you agree, peeking up at him and craning your neck to plant your lips to his jaw, savoring it long enough to leave a smirk against his skin. “You’re always so sweet to me, Bear—” one more quick peck just beneath his ear— “love when you cook for me.”

He thinks he could pass out like this, with the last thing he hears being those words, but his fatigue seems to serve as an anesthetic that lets him soak it in for a bit longer, running his free hand through damp curls while a heavy, giddy sigh leaving his lips that lets you know he hears you, that he loves telling you he loves you through his art, that he lives for the smile on your face when he stays home for a few hours longer to make you breakfast. Yet with all the time spent having his shell soften for you, he can’t always find the right words, so he settles for the next best thing: “Y’know, uh…Marcus’s been playing around with recipes…”

He feels you smile against his chest, knowing what’s to come. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, an’ I’d never let ‘im serve ‘em, ‘cause, y’know…” He loses himself for a moment in the lull of your fingertips tracing mindless shapes into his chest. “They don’t fit the menu…but uh, he made these…these rolls today…”

“Mhm? ‘M listening…”

Carmen knew that, of course, from the faint kisses you peppered between breaths. He lets the fan whir through the gaps in his thoughts. “I think you’d like ‘em, he had some classic cinnamon, ‘n…a blueberry lemon goin’…”

“That sounds really good,” you whisper, the syllables lengthened from a shared lack of sleep.

“I know,” he drawls, and he’s a little too proud of himself for once when he adds, “Which is why I said I’d let ‘im fix up the lemon recipe a few more times if he made a batch for you.”

“Did you really?” The dazed smile comes through in your voice, a bubbliness to it that tells him he made the right call.

He figures that’s why he’s so drawn to you—all the right calls come easy to him, the effort feels natural and unpracticed, unlike the tar that builds in his throat when it comes to so many other people. With you, being good is anything but demanding. “ ‘F course, baby…”

It turns him to a puddle, the sweetness that drips from your fingertips, so he cradles your wrist carefully in his hand and lifts it to his lips to show it the love it deserves before urging the hand to busy itself with the tufts of hair behind his hear, to which you happily oblige. You twirl a lock around your finger, performing a methodical spiral, and even though he knows by the time it dries it’ll stick out from the mess like a sore thumb, he’d stop breathing before pulling your hand away. It’s soothing, that pattern. It stokes the fire in his gut that makes him feel a little less lonely when you’re not around.

“I brought…” He yawns again, his eyelids growing heavy. “I brought you some of the cinnamon rolls…Sugar liked ‘em…they’re on the counter for you tomorrow mornin'…” He’s not sure whether it’s your doing or the hours of stress endured throughout the day, but he knows this is the most relaxed he’s ever been, laying with you and doing little else other than indulging in your tender touches and shy kisses.

“Thank you, my love,” slips away with breath, sotto voce, as Carmen leaves brief kisses to your hairline.

And he thanks God for being able to do it even with such an intense fatigue washing over him—at least part of him does, the part that’s still awake—because the movement lets you tilt your head and graze your fingertips by his jaw, bringing his lips kindly to yours for the first and last time tonight. Somewhere in that beautiful tangle there’s a mutual agreement: an unspoken Goodnight, I love you, in the mix, a finality in his offering and your gracious thanks that doesn’t warrant anything more than your head tucked neatly into his neck, left to bask in the comfort of his arms wrapped around you.

Just like any other night with you, he can sleep peacefully with the unconscious push and pull of your bodies intertwined. He knows that by morning, you’ll still be in his arms, in the bed you share, waiting on your good morning kiss from under the covers.

And he’ll still be beneath your warmth, his mind fuzzy and full of tenderness, every part of him dying to marry you.

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmy berzatto fic #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto imagines #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #carmy the bear #the bear fx #the bear x reader #the bear season 2

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stillmonsterz · 3 months

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GAM3 BO1

pairing: heeseung x reader

genre: smut

summary: reclusive gamer heeseung offers you the chance to live in a decent place in exchange for your companionship.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, dubcon, somnophilia, jerking off, exhibitionism, coercion, humiliation, anal sex

word count: 3.7k

The man you’re looking at in this coffee shop does not look like he could pay rent anywhere, let alone cover most of yours. He looks like he should be scrolling imageboards in his mother’s basement as he dines on high-fructose corn syrup. His eyes have bags, his skin is pale and sallow, his overgrown bangs reach below his eyebrows, and he’s so thin that the sleeves of his button-up hang from his arms. He peeks at you under his eyelashes, smiling shyly.

“You seem like a good fit,” he says quietly, fiddling with the handle of his mug of coffee. “And like I said, all you would have to do is clean up, do the laundry…make sure the place isn’t a complete pigsty.” He laughs softly. “God knows I’m awful at that.”

“Well, I can do that,” you say slowly, leaning back in your chair. “I still don’t understand why you’re being so generous. I mean, you could just get a maid. It’d cost you less money, too.” You don’t mention that the apartment is ridiculously nice for the pittance he would let you pay for it, and it’s in a choice location in the city. When you saw the ad for it on the roommate app you had downloaded, you had thought it was a scam. But then, you were so desperate that you were willing to fall for a scam. As it turns out, the apartment is real – he had sent you a video of it at your behest – and the owner was definitely real.

Heeseung – Heeseung Lee, a single computer programmer that had come into an undisclosed yet presumably exorbitant amount of wealth following his parents’ passing – laughs again, a self-conscious chuckle that quickly dies in his throat. “Well, to be honest with you…I just get lonely. I mean, my work is all online, and I don’t have many, uh, friends. I sort of just stay at home and play…” Heeseung’s voice becomes hushed. “play video games. It’s sort of pathetic.”

“Nothing pathetic about that,” you say quickly. He’s so earnest, it tugs at your heartstrings. “I think this could be a great arrangement.”

Heeseung looks up at you, and his eyes are shining. He smiles at you, tilting his head. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You smile as well. “And I’m a pretty good companion, if I do say so myself.”

Heeseung’s eyes flicker down, lingering below your collar for a full five seconds before he looks back up at you. “You know, I think you’ll be a great companion for me.”

Your first week living in his apartment is relatively peaceful. Relatively is the operative word. Your room is comfortable, stocked with plain furniture. Heeseung gives you carte blanche to decorate it as you wish, which is nice. Cleaning up after him is a simple affair, too. He deposits his dirty dishes and takeout containers outside of his door at regular intervals – 6 pm, when he wakes up and orders something, 8 pm, when he remembers to eat something, and 2 am, when he needs a snack to keep him going. You got home from work at 5, so it wasn’t hard to accommodate him. He exclusively eats Doordash, which saddens you a bit. When you made pasta for yourself one day, you decided to knock on his door and offer him a bowl of it. His eyes had widened, like you had offered him a plate of solid gold.

“Really?” he’d said, receiving the bowl.

“Yeah, of course.” You had smiled at him sympathetically; it was really so easy to please him.

Heeseung had grinned at you. “Thank you, thank you.” He had taken a large bite of it and closed his eyes, nodding and pointing at the bowl. “You’re so good at cooking, wow. Wow, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No really…you’re an angel. Like a domestic goddess.” Heeseung had looked you up and down. “You’re like a cute little maid.”

You laughed and walked away.

His eating habits were one thing, but some things he does mystify you. He refuses to let you inside of his room, blocking your view of the door. You can catch a whiff of stale air whenever the door is cracked even slightly, which piques your interest. “It’s just really messy in here,” he’d tell you nervously. Heeseung only really comes out of his room to play Overwatch on the Smart TV in the living room. Other than that, he asks you periodically to bring him things when you get home from work.

There’s also one other issue: you swear your panties are going missing. Your favourite pair of panties has vanished, as well as a pair you generally wear when you’re on your period. You take care of all the laundry (including Heeseung’s own filthy boxers), so it’s impossible that you could have misplaced them. You don’t push anything, though.

Today is weird, though. When you get home, there’s a medium-sized package outside of the door. It has Heeseung’s name on it, so you bring it to his door and knock. “Heeseung, there’s something for you.”

Heeseung cracks the door open, his hair having grown even longer in the week you had been here. “Oh, no,” he says, pointing with a bony finger, “that’s for you.”

“Aw, Heeseung,” you say with a wide smile. “You got me something?”

Heeseung grins at you and shrugs. “It’s the least I can do. You do so much for me…I hope you like it.”

You excitedly open the package, but your smile drops when you see its contents: a cheaply-made maid outfit with spaghetti straps, white lace trim, and a skirt that would cover your panties and little else. “You…want me to wear this?”

“Yes,” Heeseung says, reaching out to touch your shoulder. “Come on, it’s just a dress. No one else will see.”

You sigh. He practically lets you live here for free, so you might as well play along. “What, you want me to wear it right now?”

Heeseung nods so vigorously you’re surprised his head doesn’t roll off his skinny little neck. You turn away to head to your room to change, but Heeseung’s grip on your shoulder tightens. “No. Change here.”

You whip your head to face him. “What?”

His gaze is steely now, his previous shyness having seemingly dissipated. “Change in front of me.” Then, as though he had been momentarily possessed, his softness returns. “Please? I don’t ask you for a lot, right?”

You swallow your pride and put the maid outfit on the ground. First, you remove your hoodie, revealing your tank top. As you fold up your hoodie, you can see Heeseung’s hand furiously moving in his boxers, which causes you to freeze.

“Keep going,” he says hoarsely, leaning his head back. Dread pools inside of your gut as you continue to strip. Soft, strained moans spill from Heeseung’s lips as he watches you strip down to your underwear. When you put on the maid costume, he carefully adjusts the straps of your dress with his slick hands. “Very nice,” Heeseung says. “Turn around for me?”

You turn, and you can feel the cool air of the apartment hitting your ass- the dress is that short. “So good,” Heeseung whispers. “You can take it off now.”

Your hands fumble with the hem of your dress, but Heeseung laughs. “Not here,” he says, removing his hands from your shoulder. “In your room, silly. And after you’re done, bring the dress to me, okay?”

You’re too dazed to question his instructions, and you’re all but too happy to get out of the dress. After you’re done changing, you hand the maid outfit to him. He smiles and takes it without a word.

Things go by relatively smoothly after that, and you almost wonder if you made that incident up. The only thing that has changed about his behavior is that he comes to see you more. Not for long, only a few minutes per day. If you make cookies, he’ll ask if he can try some of the dough or try a cookie. If you’re doing the laundry, he’ll ask you about your day as you fold.

You’re currently on your hands and knees scrubbing a particularly obstinate white stain on his couch when you hear Heeseung’s voice behind you. “You know, you should wear leggings more often,” he says.

You don’t turn to look at him. “Yeah, why?”

“They make your ass look perfect,” he says with a laugh. “Of course, it looks best naked.”

You’re about to ask him how he would know how your ass looks naked before he’s already wandered off. About two minutes later, you can hear him in his room playing a low-grade pornography, his own moans mixing in with the fake screams of pleasure from the women. You put your headphones on and try to drown the sound out- even the sound of Heeseung calling your own name.

This goes on for a while, and it only gets worse. Now he leaves his door open so the sound of him jerking off echoes through the apartment. When you’re trying to sleep, you can hear the severely un-titillating sounds of the brother-con hentai he watches.

One day, you’re rummaging through your underwear drawer trying to find your comfortable, plain bra. You realize that it’s missing, and your anger reaches a boiling point. You stomp over to his room and knock on the door. “Heeseung,” you growl.

Heeseung opens the door nonchalantly and smiles. “Hi,” he says innocently, “could you clean my room for me?”

“Could I what? Heeseung, did you steal m-,”

“And could you wear this while you do it?” As if he had been expecting you, Heeseung walks over to his bed and hands you the maid outfit, your missing bra, and that pair of your favorite panties. All of them were coated in globs of cum in various stages of hardening, especially your panties.

“Heeseung!” You take a step back from him. “I’m not doing that, for fuck’s sake.”

Heeseung just smiles at you. “I think you should.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Either you wear this, or make you pay your share of the rent.” Heeseung leans towards you, and you can smell his fruity, sickly breath. “The choice is yours, of course.”

“You’re insane,” you say, leaning away from him.

“Whatever. Now get in the maid outfit.”

Tears well in your eyes as you head to your room to don the most humiliating outfit you’ve ever seen. When you put the bra and panties on, his cum oozes out of them and drips onto the floor. The maid outfit is sticky all over, and you shiver. You don’t even look yourself in the mirror before leaving your room to see Heeseung again. His hand is already wrapped around his dick by the time you walk out, his boxers resting around his ankles.

“Wait, wait,” Heeseung says, holding up his free hand. “Don’t walk to me. Crawl to me.”

The humiliation forces your head down as you sink to your hands and knees and crawl towards Heeseung. When he sees you at his feet, Heeseung smiles, still stroking his cock. “Such a cute little maid,” he says. “Now get up on your knees, come on. Be good.”

You prop yourself up on your knees, so that you’re level with his crotch. “Now,” he says softly, “open wide.”

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and Heeseung slides his cock into your mouth. When he does, he moans loudly, and he grabs at your hair. Heeseung fucks your mouth like it’s a pussy, and the musty state of his cock makes you gag the entire time. His balls slap against your face, and he keeps whimpering pathetically. His other hand reaches down and squeezes one tit after the other, and within no time he’s pulling his cock out of your mouth, tugging it hurriedly, and finishing all over your face. He tugs his boxers up to his waist again and sighs. “That was great,” he says, affectionately ruffling your hair. “Whenever you’re ready, you can come inside my room and tidy it up. I know it bothers you that I’m so messy…”

Your jaw is too sore to speak, and for a moment you just lie there on the floor in the hallway. None of it seems real, none of it makes sense to you. The worst part of it all is that you can feel wetness pooling in between your thighs, which makes you groan softly.

A little while later, Heeseung emerges from his room. He crouches down and strokes your hair. “You want me to get you something?” he asks soothingly. “Some water, juice?”

“Water would be nice.” You cough a few times. Heeseung gets up and comes back shortly with a bottle of water that he opens for you. You pull yourself up so that you’re sitting, legs crossed, and you drink the water while Heeseung pats your hair comfortingly. Once you calm down, you and Heeseung head inside of his room.

It’s disgusting, which is an understatement. The bed is unmade and piled with stained pillows, the floor is spattered with cum, his bookshelf is a horrid mishmash of coding textbooks and manga, his closet is filled with clothes, of which only half are on hangers. His desk area is relatively clean, but one of his three monitors is playing some filthy pornography. The other has Discord open, and the third has some weird game you don’t recognize open. Worst of all is the pocket pussy resting on his gaming chair.

You sigh. Seems like you have a lot of work to do.

Over the next few months, you start to realize that Heeseung is treating you like a pseudo-girlfriend. He changes your contract so that he pays for virtually all of the rent, as well as the groceries. He even gives you a hefty monthly allowance, enough that you can start building up your savings.

Of course, you doubt that a regular boyfriend would treat you the way Heeseung does. For one, ever since you cleaned his room the first time, he expects you to clean it every day while donning a humiliating outfit of his choosing. He likes to have you walk around in the apartment wearing striped microkinis, plaid skirts with black G-strings, nurse costumes, maid outfits, and an elaborate swimsuit cosplay of his favorite League of Legends character. He’ll watch you as you clean his room clad in whatever skimpy outfit he’s gifted you, commenting on your body. Other times, he’ll come up behind you as you’re in the kitchen or living room and grope your ass or tits before wandering back to his cave. That’s what he does on a regular basis.

Lately, he’s been fucking you. It started when you were eating a bowl of cereal before heading off to work. You had heard his room door creak open, then his dragging, lumbering footsteps.

“Good morning,” he had whispered, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You’ve got a little something…”

Before you could say anything, Heeseung had licked the tip of his finger and swiped up the bit of milk lingering by the corner of your mouth. He stuck his finger into his mouth, still hovering over you. Every time you took a bite of cereal, trying to finish up as quickly as you could, he would wipe your face and then suck the milk off of his fingers. His other hand rested on your shoulder, rubbing it slightly, until it slid down lower and lower. As he ran his thumb against the corner of your mouth, he slowly began groping your breasts. Heeseung pressed his lips against yours, both of his hands fondling you.

You had pulled your lips away. “Stop. I just ironed this shirt…”

“Sorry,” he had said, buttoning your shirt from behind. As soon as it was sufficiently open, he groped your tits directly, his lips on yours. He had a greedy, selfish way of kissing you; his tongue would slither down your throat, gagging you. Heeseung had unbuttoned the rest of your shirt, then he pushed your cereal to the side. He pushed you down onto the dining table, your chest pressing against the wood. You could feel his hands tugging your damp panties to the side.

“Such a nice pussy,” he had murmured. You heard him spit, then you felt cool fingers pumping themselves in and out of you. You bit your lip so you couldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Heeseung only prepped you just enough to get you wet, then he stuffed himself inside of you, inch by inch.

Your hands curled, desperately trying to find any purchase. It had been a long time since you had anything inside of you, and you welcomed the pleasure. But you couldn’t let Heeseung know that.

His gnarled fingernails dug into your soft flesh as he pounded away at you. He wasn’t particularly vocal, only making soft moans of pleasure. Sometimes, he would drag himself out of you, then slam back inside. He smacked your ass. “Just look at that shit jiggle,” he said breathlessly. “I want to try that out next…”

With that, he had slid his fingers into your tight hole, and you couldn’t hold back a gasp. Heeseung pumped his fingers in and out of the band of muscle, widening it. You had never taken anything up your ass before, and your toes curled in fear and anticipation.

You felt him slip out of your pussy, and the painful stretch of his cock opening your asshole replaced the pleasure you had previously felt. Heeseung groaned as he fucked your ass raw, only the precum that had dribbled from his cock for lube. Fortunately, he didn’t last, pumping your ass full with hot cum before pulling out of you. “Your pussy is definitely better,” he had muttered before walking away. While you rested against the table, trying to recollect yourself, you heard him booting up another game of League of Legends. With a palpable sense of shame, you finished yourself off right there as your cheek pressed against the table, your fingers wildly swirling against your engorged clit. You came with a shudder, then you darted into the bathroom to clean yourself up and go to work.

He never fucked your ass again, but your pussy and mouth were fair game for him. Whenever he sees you now, wearing the outfits he picks for you, he shoves his fingers down your throat. Once your throat is pliant and his fingers are coated in your spit, he either make you blow him or he fingers you wherever you are, his other hand stroking all over your body. Then he goes back into his room while you’re there, dripping wet. Heeseung likes having you wet all the time, so he can fuck you at his convenience.

Like right now, he was playing another game of Overwatch, hunched over his controller and eyes laser-focused on the screen. You were on your hands and knees, pushing yourself back and forth on his dick. This time, he had made you wear a cow-print bikini, complete with a bell; every time you fucked yourself on his cock, it would jingle.

“Fuck,” Heeseung says, voice ragged, “my team’s Tracer is so shit at kiting. It’s such a basic concept.”

“That really sucks,” you say through gritted teeth.

Heeseung reaches his hand out and touches your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your lips. “You’re such a good listener,” he coos, lazily thrusting as he removes his hand and continues playing his game. He soon stops moving, and you have to pick up his slack, rocking yourself as fast as you can so he can cum and be done with it. “Ah, stop going so fast,” Heeseung says, lightly slapping your ass. “I want to sync my nut up for when I use my ultimate.”

As you heed his instructions, you squeeze your eyes shut and tell yourself that homelessness is a far worse prospect than this, homelessness is bad, you wouldn’t like a homeless shelter.

It wasn’t like he didn’t jerk off anymore, either. He did, maybe even more than before he started using you. Heeseung liked to spread his legs, milk his cock right in front of you, then lick up the cum off of the couch while he told you to play with yourself. Whenever you got close to cumming, he would tell you to stop and do some task for him. Then, when you were scrubbing the dishes or wiping down his desk, he would plunge his cock into you and fuck you until you were twitching and crying out. Other times, he would make you sit in his room with him. He would sit you on his lap while he watched some degenerate hentai, and he would make you jerk him off while he fondled your tits and rubbed your clit.

Once, you went to bed early because you had a hard day at work. Your dream is odd; you’re running from a ghost in a dilapidated mansion. You can’t see it, but you can feel its presence. Then you feel it catch you, its hands wrapping around your waist, your tits. The ghost rubs your body slowly, almost tenderly, and you can feel its hardness pressing against your ass as you’re suspended in the air.

When you open your eyes, you realize that it wasn’t a dream, not quite. There is a hand that has slipped under your shirt, caressing your chest, and another hand on your waist. And someone is humping you, whimpering as he does. Quite belatedly, you realize that your pajama pants have been pulled down.

“Heeseung?” you whisper sleepily.

“Shh,” he says, “just go back to sleep, okay? I’ll be done soon.”

You’re too tired from everything to fight it, so your eyes flutter shut. Heeseung slowly thrusts into you, almost like he doesn’t want to wake you, and you smile slightly at the sentiment. He fucks you lazily and slowly, and only speeds up when he’s about to cum. He cums inside of you and uses his fingers to push his seed back up.

“Thanks for letting me do that,” he whispers before leaving you alone.

As you’re drifting to sleep again, you can hear him telling someone to, “Fucking stop camping.”

This is still better than being homeless.

#heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #enha smut #enhypen smut #a fic by rubyreduji partially inspired this!

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webslingingslasher · 1 year

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Hi can I ask for a blurb where Peter accidently hits the reader while playing or something like he sometimes forgets about his super strength but fluff at the end please 🥺.

this got away from me but this was so fun and cute to write!

“I kinda want a black eye.”

Your boyfriend slowly lowered the bag of peas on his left eye, his elbow dropped daringly, forcing you to look at the dark purple hue.

“Oh, really?”

You nod, “it looks gnarly but it’d be cool to have one.”

“Baby, my heartbeat is currently taking place from my eyeball. You don’t want one.”

Stretching across the space on the couch you raise Peter’s hand back up so he can ice the bruise some more, it does look painful.

“I think if you loved me you’d give me one.”

Peter took a second to see if that sentence would resonate with you but it hadn’t.

“We should go to the women's shelter and spread that knowledge.”

You scoff, “they weren't asking for it, Peter. I am.”

Your boyfriend lowered his temporary ice pack and reached a hand out, his thumb rubbed under your eye, you almost thought he was thinking about it. Almost.

“I’d never. I would, however, patch you up if you ever got one.”

“Do you have a friend that could-”

“No.”

—------------------------------------

Oh FUCK did your eye HURT.

It was on a level ten throb level, it felt like a ring stretching to your eyebrow and nose. You couldn’t even open it, all you could do was press your hand to it and try and stop the pressure from building, it didn’t work.

You were able to blink it open just enough to be blinded by the living room light, you’ve never been so light sensitive. Squeezing it shut you winced, you tried to be understanding and calm; it was an accident after all. But the pain was spreading all over your face and you had a target right on the corner of your right eye, and it hurt.

If your right eye could open it’d be shedding tears too, you had one continuance stream coming from your left eye.

Your voice bubbles with pain, “petey, it hurts.”

Your boyfriend couldn’t even breathe right now, he had hurt you. The one thing he swore he would never, could never do, and he did it. Panic flooded his body, panicked he’s caused serious damage, panicked you’d be scared of him, panicked you’d dump him, panicked your dad would come curbstomp him.

“It hurts so bad,” he knows you’re calling out for him, he knows you need him, but all he could replay was the ‘whack!’ in his head. It wasn’t gentle in the slightest, you whipped away from him with a hiss, your hand immediately covering your eye. You had been okay at first but after a minute had passed it became nearly unbearable.

Peter knows how bad a black eye hurts, and he just gave you one.

His short, barely there breaths start to stutter.

And suddenly Peter couldn’t see because his vision was muddled by tears, he tried to blink them back but they ran. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, but this brought him to his knees. He never wanted to punish himself more than in that second. He should’ve been quicker, he should’ve known you were behind him, he has those goddamn senses and they did nothing in that moment.

“Peter!” A desperate cry for attention, you don’t know what to do, it hurts more than you could imagine.

You look up at your boyfriend still standing in shock where he jumped away from you after hitting you directly in your eye. A wrestling battle, you had tried to take him down after he’d pinned you three times. In an effort of a sneak attack you crawled up the couch and tried to jump on his back where he sat on the floor. You dived and at the last moment his hand… well you don’t know what he was trying to do but it connected hard to your cheekbone.

Your back hit the couch and you held your hand as you hissed and groaned in hurt, Peter scrambled up and backed up behind the coffee table, as if he was scared to be around you.

He’s crying, your boyfriend’s crying. You’ve been punched and he’s crying.

“I’m.. I’m sorr.. Fuck.” Peter snaps out of it, you need him. He crosses to the couch in two steps, his hand cupping your cheek. It makes everything in him deflate when you flinch as he touches you, he bites his bottom lip to stop a sob. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

His heart hurts as you cry, his thumb taps at your hand covering the damaged eye. The one he caused.

“Let me see it, please?” Peter said it like a question, like he’d ever be lucky enough to have that privilege.

You sob, “it hurts.”

Peter blinks, more tears. He can’t believe he’s crying over this, he also can’t believe he hit his fucking girlfriend.

“I know, I know it does, baby. Please let me see it.”

You choke in air to stop your crying, it works. You slowly lift your hand off your eye, it’s not throbbing as much but the pressure has inflated tenfold and you couldn’t open it if you tried, it was swollen shut. You tried to gauge a reaction out of him, to see how bad it is. You forgot your boyfriend had the world’s best poker face.

Peter wanted to curl up into a ball when he saw the damage.

It was bruising, and swollen and you couldn’t open your eye and it was all his fault.

His fault, his fault, his fault.

If he was normal, if he was a normal boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened. A normal teenager doesn’t have the strength to hold a ferry or stop a runaway bus, he does. And he used that strength on you.

His powers, his abilities, his strength.

His fault, his fault, his fault.

“You need ice.” Is all that could come out. A wince wraps over your face when you nod, you try to sit up and groan. “Everything hurts. How do you do this? Pain has to affect you differently, right?” Peter ignored you as he backed away, you don’t think he’s ever been so aware of his surroundings and actions.

He shouldn’t be getting ice, he shouldn’t be putting it in a plastic bag and wrapping a rag around it, he shouldn’t be grabbing you tylenol extra strength, he shouldn’t be icing your black eye he caused.

His fault, his fault, his fault.

It scared you how quiet he was, the accidental punch was just that. You weren’t upset at him or scared he would do it again, you were scared how odd he was acting. He was strangely quiet and standoffish, when he came back to you with ice and pills you watched him think about holding the bag to your eye but stopped and put it in your hand.

He shifted his weight and looked at the couch, he stepped back and sat on the coffee table.

Peter cried and was quiet and standoffish and scared to touch you. He was terrified of himself, you may be physically hurt but he was emotionally broken, his one major thing washed down the drain. Accident or not he gave you a black eye, and it was tearing him up inside.

You hummed when ice hit the hot skin, suddenly it didn’t hurt.

“Am I right, super high pain tolerance?”

It’s like you broke through a wall, Peter looked up at you like he just found out you were in the room.

“I hit you.”

You would’ve rolled your eyes if you could’ve.

“That’s a little dramatic.”

Peter shook his head, upset you weren’t upset.

“I hit you hard, I hurt you. I…” His hand pulled at his curls so hard you grit your teeth. “I fucking hit you,” he whispered it, like his own mind couldn’t wrap it around.

He doesn’t pull out the fuck word often.

You thought about reaching out for his hand, but you think that’d made things worse.

“I’m not scared of you, petey. It was an accident.”

“I swore i’d never hurt you, that I would never hit you and I didn’t-”

“Mean it.” You cut him off, “you didn’t mean it.”

Peter rubbed at his jaw and blinked, you saw tears puddling and you wanted to do nothing more than hold him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, you lowered the bag of ice from your eye prepared to switch seats. He wouldn’t let you.

“Ice.” Cold and hard, like you had no other option. You didn’t question him, you followed instructions.

“Remember when you asked me to give you a black eye months ago?”

It was a joke. Sure, you saw a tiktok with a girl who had one and you couldn’t deny it looked a little cool. Then seeing one on Peter the same night you couldn’t shake it. You were just playing around, it’s not like it was that serious.

“I was joki-”

“I told you I'd never, and I did. I hit my girlfriend and gave her a black eye.”

Disgust. That’s what it was. He was disgusted with himself.

You sat up straight, your lip curled up.

A black eye? Sick.

“Wait, really?”

Peter looked up at your excitement, it came from nowhere.

“You gave me a black eye? I have a black eye right now? For real, for real?”

This wasn’t a cute or funny thing, and he won’t let you make it be one.

He hit you.

“This isn’t funny, I hit you and you’re happy you got a black eye?”

“Pete, I forgive you. And not just cause you gave me a black eye, because it was an accident and you didn’t mean to and you’re obviously extremely remorseful.”

“But I-”

You reached out for his hand, “forgive yourself. You forgive yourself.”

It wouldn’t be instant, until your eye healed, which would be at a much slower rate than him, he wouldn’t be able to fully forgive himself.

“No more wrestling.”

You scoff, “no more sneak attacks, how about that?”

He shook his head, “I don’t want this happening again.”

“If the situation was reversed would you want me to hold it against myself?”

Peter scoffed, “absolutely not, but it wouldn’t hurt me like it does you.”

“So you do have a super high pain tolerance.”

He snapped and ripped his hand from yours, “yes, I do have a super high pain tolerance. I also have super strength and give my girlfriend black eyes.”

You held your hand up, the other one slightly freezing from the cold but you were too scared to take it off.

“First off, plural. Second, please stop. You’re making me feel bad, I’m really okay and I’m not mad and I forgive you a thousand million percent.”

Peter inhaled sharply, he has to believe you. He’s more shook up than you are and he guesses he should agree with you, you were the hurt one. If you forgive him he could try and do the same.

“I think you need to give me a black eye to even it out.”

You gasp like your offended at his words, your hand lays over your heart.

“I’d never!”

Your boyfriend ran his tongue over his teeth and gave you a dead stare, his hands pushed him off the coffee table. His words grumbled, “toxic.”

#peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker angst #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #my writing

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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soobnny · 11 months

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one more month — bang chan. established relationship. fluff. chan missing you while he’s on tour. (0.6k words)

“Chan?”

It’s 11pm for you when he calls from his hotel room, somewhere oceans away. There’s still sleep dripping from your tone, and he can almost hear the rustling of sheets from your end.

“Sorry baby, did I wake you?” Chan speaks so quietly it’s almost a whisper. He was careful not to shake you out of your silence.

“Mmm, no.” You croak out.

He knows you’re lying, could almost picture you jolting from your sleep at the familiar buzz of your ringtone. The thought makes him swallow, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

“Is there a reason why you’re calling?”

He pauses before answering. Chan has no idea how the fuck he’s feeling right now, but he knows he misses you.

It’s been 4 months since he last saw you. All he has are pictures of you in his phone, and occasional phone calls that will never suffice to the way you sound in person. To the way you feel in person.

Chan stares out the big fucking window from where they’re staying, finding comfort in the thought that you might be looking at the same moon.

He swallows again. “Does there have to be a reason?”

“Of course not.”

“Just miss you.” He breathes out slowly, head tilted on the glass windows. “And I wish— we didn’t have to be so far away all the time.”

He’s thinking of you, imagining how you look right now with tired eyes. He’s thinking of what it would be like if he was there right now. You’d probably be asleep, tangled up in each other’s limbs. It would look uncomfortable from an outsider’s eye, but he knows. Knows how it feels to have your heartbeat pressed against his and how nice it feels.

You sigh. “One more month.”

The tone in your voice is gentle, yet knowing. He knows you miss him too.

“For now, you need to sleep, no?”

It’s 3 in the morning for him, and he’ll have to be awake again in three hours.

“Can’t.” He bites his lip, swallowing hard as he tries to fight the sob brewing in his throat. Your heart clenches at the way he sounds, knows that when he feels, he lets it take over him.

“Will you be able to sleep if I stay on the phone?”

“Maybe.” Shaky.

“Okay. Have the kids been treating you well?”

A smile pulls at his lips at the mention of his best friends, and the topic change does a good job at masking the nauseating pain of missing you. A bandaid. A temporary fix.

“Still loud and stubborn, but I wouldn’t want them any other way.”

“Hmmm, I won’t be surprised if you come home with a head of white hair.”

He laughs at the thought, running a hand through his hair. “I think I’m already starting.”

“Then Seungmin calling you an old man is justifiable, then?”

“I don’t think I like you teaming up with the boys against me. You’ve signed up on my team the moment you said yes to being mine.”

You laugh from your end, and Chan’s heart flutters at the sound. He can almost see you with your crescent eyes and the cute scrunch on your nose, the one you do when you cackle.

He tries not to think about it too much. Tries not to picture himself right there with you. He knows it’d only rip the bandaid he’d desperately plastered on himself.

“Not sleepy yet?”

“Just a little.” He admits quietly, a yawn escaping his mouth.

There’s stifling from his end, and you can only assume he’s slipped himself back into the covers of his bed.

You keep telling him stories, no matter how menial, anything to keep him company. You know he just needs to hear your voice, has told you before how simply hearing you comforts him—it’s a calm only you can offer.

Chan breathes in and out slowly.

It’s four in the morning now, and there’s quiet snoring in the background.

“Goodnight Channie. One more month.”

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suguann · 8 days

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an. a little 'and-they-were-roommates' drabble series to get me back into writing because it's been an age. | masterlist | part two

It starts as a situation built off convenience: he needed someone to take care of his place while he was gone, and you needed a place to stay.

Simon never thought he’d get anything out of it other than coming home to a house that feels lived-in and the entryway clear of envelopes from months of neglecting his mail—another voice throughout the day besides the intrusive ones in his head that spun like a carousel with the word work etched on top.

It’s not until you show up on his doorstep, three boxes and a measly duffel bag crowding your arms, that he thinks he really should’ve thought this through better. He’ll only realize this after the fact—weeks late, sleepless nights filled with images of daisy-shaped buttons down the front of a summer dress and a smile that nearly knocks him flat off his feet.

As it is, he’ll blame it on the handful of sleepless hours from tiny airplane seats and energy drinks sleuthing through his system that clouded his judgment, then admit it’s nice coming home to a woman who looks pretty reading a book on his living room couch.

Only his soap-slick fist in his bathroom late at night will know the honest-to-God truth. That is if there was ever a god he believed in.

He never claimed to be a good man.

(Can anyone claim to be good in his line of work?)

Just an honest one.

So it goes something like this: he tries not to come off as an obsessed, lonely fuck (the jury is out on either) by just existing in the same space as you whenever the opportunity arises—reading the paper while you make breakfast on the stove he hasn’t touched in too long to remember when, flipping through a book Simon didn’t even know he owned while you water plants you picked up on your way from work, watching whatever you have on the telly before you both go to bed—then he’s on a plane, being shipped out to who knows where with a gun holstered to his hip.

Rinse and repeat.

The fourth time he comes home after an assignment keeps him away longer than expected, he finds you in the kitchen, covered in flour, a cute, frilly apron tied around your waist that he’s never seen you wear before. A smile curls the edges of your mouth as you look over at him, everything in your face soft and attentive—a vision suddenly takes shape.

You with a ring on your finger, Simon calling you his little wife, getting to hold your hand whenever he feels like it, and not because yours accidentally brushed up against his. His hand fisting in your hair, bending you over the counter, your cheek covered in powdery confectionery, fingers rucking up your skirt and apron because he can.

He blinks once, twice, and the little fantasy falls apart.

Except you’re still in his kitchen, smiling prettily and happy to see him of all things. Imagine that.

Your lashes flutter, making crescent shadows across your cheeks. “How was your trip?” you ask. “You look more tired than you usually do.”

A shrug, a dismissal. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I have some tea that might help.”

“Tea.” He repeats to fill the quiet if only to stand there a little longer, his bag still slung over his shoulder and his clothes smelling like recycled air.

“Yeah, I got it from a friend a few weeks ago when I caught this cold that was going around the office.” Sometimes, you ramble, and he can do nothing more than let you get it out of your system—not that he minds. “I swear it’s nothing janky or anything. Just try it; it might help.”

You’re so damn earnest about it that he can’t bring himself to say no.

“Sure,” he says and watches a wide, satisfied smile stretch across your face.

It’d be easier if you weren’t so sweet and gave a sincere fuck about the comings and goings of his life. If the smell of your perfume wasn’t following Simon everywhere—sugary vanilla faintly clinging to his balaclava even after he’s washed it—as a reminder of what’s just out of his reach.

(A mindfuck is what it is.)

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost smut #ghost x you #cod smut #cod x reader #cod fic #cod imagine #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #mw2 imagine #.things i write

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bleedingoptimism · 1 year

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You Are Mine part 1

When Eddie decided to come out he thought it’d be funny to do so with a music video, so he wrote a song and presented it to the band. The boys loved it and the song was declared the first one of their next album, the third one.

And then it was time to shoot the video.

They hire their personal friend and favorite director, Argyle. Just Argyle, like Cher.

Between him and Argyle they come up with a cool script. The band is going to act in it, they just need two extras, so they hold auditions for a couple in their twenties.

On the day of the auditions, Argyle tells them the interviews are mostly for show, the band can pick whoever they feel the most comfortable with, and the boys tell Eddie he should pick since it’s his song.

The five of them sit at a long table like it’s fucking American Idol or something and just stare at the couples waiting in line through a one-side glass mirror whispering among themselves and watching amused as the couples start getting progressively nervous.

There’s a couple that immediately grabs Eddie's attention when he does a pass-over, a pretty tall dirty blonde and a brunette with big soft-looking hair.

The guy is absolutely gorgeous, with big kind eyes, a straight cute nose, a square jaw, big shoulders, a small waist, and tan skin that seems to be covered in beauty marks.

He just strikes Eddie as someone that would make Michelangelo cry with his inability to capture his perfection.

‘Oh, that’s good. I should write that.’ He thinks.

He and the girl are talking in hush tones and Eddie watches as she fixes his hair while he jabbers nervously and then, evidently says something that makes her angry because she pokes him in the ribs. The guy giggles cutely and loudly enough to carry over to their room and then blushes furiously when heads turn toward them, hiding behind his friend. The woman in question snorts and chuckles as he chastises her.

Eddie stands up, crouches behind Argyle’s chair, and tells him, “I want that one.”

“What?” he answers, so Eddie points at the couple, “I want him.”

Argyle looks at them considering and clicks his tongue and Eddie insists, “Please Argy, please, I love him, I want him, I want that one, pleaseee”

“Eddie, we need to at least consider the rest of them. This is my job we are talking about here. Please, take it seriously” Argyle says in a calm voice and Eddie deflates,

“Dude...I’m sorry I-”

“Nah man, I’m kidding!” Argyle cuts him off, “Couple number four! Please step forward!” he yells into a mike.

The blonde and the brunette look at each other and walk in nervously as Eddie goes back to his seat at the end of the table and Argyle does a small flourishing move with his hand inviting them to introduce themselves.

“Hi! My name is Robin, and this is Steve, pleased to meet you!” The girl says smiling kindly at them. She nudges Steve on the side and he does a little finger wave at them.

Eddie has to bite his lip not to smile too much because they are really fucking cute.

Argyle returns the wave enthusiastically, because nothing ever faces him, and looks at the list he has in his hands, “Any experience acting Robin and Steve?”

Robin says yes, something about drama club in high school and Steve just shrugs which amused Eddie to no end, and frankly makes him really curious, for all intent and purposes, Steve doesn’t seem to be interested in the job.

“How did you find out about this job?” Jeff asks them, and Gareth nods like he was just about to ask the same thing.

“A friend of ours told us about it?” Robin answers “He’s a photographer but I don't want to drop names, especially in case we embarrass ourselves,” she says jokingly and looks relieved when she gets a couple of chuckles from Argyle and the band.

“And you were interested because…?” Frank inquires.

Robin starts saying some carefully prepared speech about learning experiences but is interrupted by Steve saying, “We needed the money”

“Oh my god! Shut up!” Robin suddenly turns to him completely red in the face.

“What? You told me to be myself!” Steve tells her frowning.

“This is exactly why I always talk in interviews”

“What does that mean?”

“You suck at this Steve! Just as much as you suck at-”

Gareth clears his throat loudly making them stop and look at him sheepishly, “So tell us, do you know the band? Are you fans?”

Eddie takes a moment to look at his bandmates and to his relief they all look as amused as he feels, especially Argyle. The couple of newbies is clearly a mess but in an endearing kind of way.

“Well…” Robin starts but doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“Never heard of it,” Steve says looking apologetic.

“Wait, Really?” Robin asks him, once more ignoring the director and the band, “They are like, Mike’s favorite band, man! You never heard of Corroded Coffin?”

“Oh well,” Steve shrugs, “I mostly tune out when Mike is talking so…”

Robin snorts and is about to reply but Argyle raises his hand and they both look at him, flinching a little when they realize they had started talking among themselves again.

“Ok.” Argyle tells them clapping once, “Unfortunately for me, I love your energy my dudes, but I’m going to get serious for a second here: I need you two to be professional ok? We have a budget and a schedule and only three days to shoot and I can’t hire you and find out in the middle of the shoot that you are not okay with making out with someone-”

Robin visibly takes a step back and Steve snorts, “Yeah no, I’m not making out with my sister.”

Eddie, who was wondering what kind of relationship they had, does a little happy dance in his head at that.

“No, I meant one of the members of the band” Argyle answers amused.

Robin takes another step back and actually looks a little disgusted and Eddie tries not to find it offensive, “Me?” she asks unsure.

“No,” Frank answers and points at Steve, “Him.”

Surprisingly, they both relax at that, “Oh!” They exclaim in unison and it’s kind of creepy but again, in an endearing kind of way.

And then Steve looks at them one by one, he’s unmistakably and unashamedly checking them all out and Eddie swears his eyes linger on him the most before he smirks and says, “I’m okay with that”

Eddie immediately pushes the contract laying on the table toward Frank, who pushes it to Gareth, who pushes it to Jeff, who pushes it to Argyle and gives him a pen.

Argyle laughs loudly and shakes the sheet of paper, “Well shit, I guess you are hired.”

“We are?!”

He stands up and shakes their hands, hands them the contract and another paper, “This is the script, not that it has any dialogue but just in case you have any questions.”

They push their heads together and read the script at the same time.

The story is about the band being on tour. Robin and Steve would play as their roadies and the video is supposed to show them in concert, traveling, working, and hanging out. The whole video hints that Eddie is sneaking out with one of them and it ends with the band plus Robin opening a curtain on the tour bus to find Eddie and Steve making out.

The song is called You Are Mine.

When they are done reading, Steve smiles and says “Cute”

And Robin asks, “So which one of you is Eddie?”

Eddie lifts his hand lazily and winks at them.

And Steve, still holding the script, lifts it enough to cover his face but Eddie can still see the tip of his ears as they turn bright red.

‘Oh, he’s gonna eat him alive.’

to be continued

part 1: is this

part 2: ♫

part 3: ♫

part 4: ♫

☕ cafecito?

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something #corroded coffin #omg another rockstar eddie au? mimimimi

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kika-writes · 13 days

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Can I request a fic about mean/bully Lando x sunshine reader. And one they there is this party or ceremony(something big) and she dresses up all pretty pink and Lando sees her and just amazed at how cute she is. But says something mean and hurtfull thinking she will brush it off but she takes ot seriously and cries? You can put smut in it if you want

Warnings; Smut, 18+, mean!lando

Pairing: mean!lando!norris x fem!reader

You’d been invited to a part with some of your friends and you were more than happy to attend. Alex had chosen a dress for you, pink, with your favourite pair of matching heels. She’d styled your hair into soft ringlets at the back of your head, and you looked pretty, and always. “I swear if I wasn’t with Charles, I’d date you,” she groaned, standing back to admire you as you flushed.

“Shut up, you,” you groaned, covering your face as she jumped up and down, her matching blue dress hugging her body. She’d chosen the colour the match her boyfriend’s race suit in Miami, and pink for you, because you looked good in it. Well, you looked good in everything, but this was your favourite colour too. “Oh my god!” she gasped, seeing her boyfriend in the large party hall.

The lights were turned low so you could barely see, except a few lights here and there to help you. It was light enough to see and make out familiar faces, such as George with Carmen and Alex with Lily and Lando. “Hi Lily,” you smiled warmly at your friend as she gasped. “Girl, gimme a twirl,” she held your hand above your head as she spun you around, “gorgeous, oh my god,”. She clapped her hands as you flushed, waving it off.

A small scoff made you turn to Lando, a small, confused frown across your face. “Hi Lando! Well done your win!’ you congratulated him, a beaming smile on your face. “Cheers,” he shrugged, hands in his pockets. Alex nudged him, making him scowl at the Thai and roll his eyes. “Why are you wearing that?” he said, nudging his chin at you. “M-my dress?” you asked, confused, as Lily went to say hi to Carmen.

“Yeah? What else?” he said, like it was obvious. “It’d a party, I thought I’d wear something that looked nice and Alex said-,” you started, but Lando interrupted. “Yeah yeah,” he waved it off, “don’t need your life story. You look weird,”. His lips turned upwards as his eyes roved over the material. Your cheeks flushed. “Like a right prat, prancing down here, god,” the Brit continued, eyes on your heels now.

“Oh, um,” you said, stepping back slightly. “I need the bathroom,” you muttered, hurrying off into the cloakroom, trying to ignore the tears in your eyes. “Lando, what the fuck?” Alex snapped, looking at the younger man. “What?” he asked, like he didn’t do anything. Lily came back, seeing her distressed boyfriend and turning to him. “Where’s Y/N?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “This one made her cry,” Alex shrugged, nudging his shoulder at Lando.

“Lando, what the fuck? You can’t even last ten seconds without upsetting Y/N, can you?” she cried, hands on her hips as Lando looked up guiltily. “She’s not crying, she’s-,” he started but Carmen cut him off. “Yes she is, I just went to see her,” she rolled her eyes at Lando. “I didn’t mean to make her cry, it was an off-handed comment,” he said, regretting what he had said. “Fucking move,” he scowled at Alex, walking to the cloakroom. “Don’t you fucking dare hurt her, Norris,” Lily snapped after him.

He ignored her, making his way to the cloakroom. You were sat on the floor, phone in your hand, scrolling through pointless TikToks. “Lando,” you said, wiping your face quickly. “Y/N,” he nodded, shutting the door behind him, “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, frowning slightly. “You didn’t upset me, it’s just, um, allergies,” you sniffed. “Really? You don’t always have to be such a people pleaser. I was a jerk, Y/N,” he dead, kneeling down to your height. “It’s your win day, Lando, don’t bother,” you brushed it off.

“Best reward right now would be a smile,” his index finger brushed against your jawline as you laughed softly. “Happy?” you smiled softly, realising how close he was to you. In truth, he found you pretty. And he didn’t know what to do, you were very beautiful, yes, but there was something so enticing about you. Maybe how innocent and adorable you were. How hot you looked, without intending for it to be like that. And he wanted to protect you from anyone else, but he didn’t know how to. He wanted you in filthy ways, in truth.

“Are we gonna kiss?” you asked, his lips a few centimetres from yours. “I dunno. Do you wanna?” he asked, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth. You hummed to show you did, letting his hand come to the back of your hand, other one pushing your knees down so he could pull you in closer. Your legs pushed between the inside of his thighs, his tongue playing at your lips as you gasped. “Lando…” you began, his knee parting your legs as you flushed. “Hmmm?” he hummed, pulling back and attaching himself to your neck.

“I want you,” you said, almost embarrassed. “You have me?” he asked, confused. “More,” you said, tugging at his belt. That was an action he had never predicted from you. “Thank god the music’s loud,” he groaned, unbuckling hidden trousers. The cloakroom was small, like a cupboard, just enough space for about four people if they squeezed, but you’d make do. Lando latched the lock on the door, lifting you into his arms. With his back against the wall, he place you on his stomach, panties pressed against his abs.

“Someone’s wet f’me,” he said, index slightly brushing over your clothed clit as you gasped. “Mhm,” you hummed, letting him move them to the side, the cool air hitting your body. “Gonna make this quick, or Lily would think I killed ya,” he grinned, shuffling you back, his cock springing against your thigh. “Please,” you said, palms flat on his chest as he slid you down, taking his full length. “Lando!” you cried, eyed wide at the stretch.

“Never gonna be mean to you again,” he hummed, bouncing you slightly as he thrust his hips upwards. Your face was above his chest, your mouth open in shock still, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. “So pretty,” he cooed, hand cupping your breast, teeth latching onto the exposed skin. “You like that, yeah?” he asked, tongue running over the faint mark. You nodded, both of his hands coming to your waist to hold you up and firm in place, so he could hammer into you from the bottom.

“Stay with me doll,” he tapped your cheek, your eyes regaining focus as he wiped your hair away. “‘M close,” you mumbled as he grinned. “Me too,” he nodded. You felt yourself release onto him, the music fading your moans as Lando groaned, pulling out and spilling onto his own stomach. “Good girl,” he panted, “wow, doll,” he slid you off of him, cradling your body into his chest. “Gotta clean up before they come back and try to kill me,” he wiped the excess off of his body and helped you look back to normal.

“Where were you two?” George said, eyebrows raised. “Takes a lot of convincing to apologise to her,” Lando said, trying to hide his smirk. “Alright, bro,” Alex nodded, turning back to George. “Mhm,” Carmen winked at you as you flushed,

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #lando norris smut #f1

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okwonyo · 3 months

Text

when they accidentally say “i love you” for the first time.

ᙏ̤̫ 엔하이픈 ♡ femreader & fluff established relationship + cw. not-proofread skinship kissing 0.7k | ( bookshelf )

heeseung would go absolutely silent, mouth falling agape after the words slip out of his mouth. it’d come out of nowhere; during a call (or rather, at the end of one), right before you hang up.. after being at loss of words for long minutes, and not being able to respond to your ‘what’, panic will take over his body and he’d hang up so, so fast. you’d have to call him back, many times, and tell him that you love him too; then, he’d magically start talking again.

jay would not really mind, if he’d happen to accidentally say it, it’s mostly because he’d have been thinking about it for a while. in front of his beyond shocked girlfriend, who just wanted to know why he prepared diner instead of resting and ordering food, he’d continue to eat his dinner peacefully.. at some point, after noticing that you have been staring at him for a while now; he’d look up to you and just.. give you a soft smile when you say it back, still a little bit confused, before focusing on his food again.

jake would act as if noting happened— closing his eyes and praying to fall asleep fast enough to not get your reaction or that you didn’t hear him. unfortunately for him, you’d have a quick reaction and would definitely hear it. he’d act as if he is already asleep when you hurriedly sit up and start nudging him, “come on, it’s not funny!” you’d whine.. he’d not be able to not smile but, still, he won’t move. “fine.. i was about to say it back but i guess it doesn’t matter anymore” laying again, you’d sigh and he’d come lock you inside his embrace; begging you to say it back and showering you with ‘i love you’s.

sunghoon would not even notice, well too focused on admiring your features to even see that they are being torn with shock; he’d just think that your cute wide eyes and slightly agape mouth are cute. come one! you have to understand, you laughed at one of his joke.. and he’d think “you are laughing, i told you a joke and you are laughing, i love you” ..well, the last part wouldn’t be totally a thought. funny part is, he’d be genuinely confused when he finally realizes that you are shocked— he’d not take it back, even after you tell him. “i love you” you’d tell him, kissing his cute nose.

sunoo would put both his hands on mouth, immediately. eyes growing wider and wider by the second as you’d slowly turn your head to him. “what did you say?” you’d ask him, he’d shake his head with his flushed face.. he’d be so flustered and you’d find him so cute～ approaching your face closer to him as you’d tell him to repeat over and over again. taking his hands of his face, he’d still stay silent as you poke his soft cheeks, letting out; “i love you too, baby” and he’d become even more red..

jungwon would be shocked of his own words; they’d escape from his mouth as he’d tell you goodbye, mumbling it quickly after giving you a kiss.. he’d only realize it a while after— because you’d tell him the same exact words back without any hesitation. so, you’d both find yourself staring at each other with a big eyes, waiting for the other to say something. there is just no way he’d not be the one breaking the silence: “you love me～” he’d coo, completely forgetting where he was supposed to go to focus on his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer. you’d try to pull away as you exclaim, “no! you said it first, you said it first!”

riki would stop in his track, hand stopping in the air as he’d be stroking your hair; he’d look down to you who is would have your head lay on his laps. his heart would start beating ridiculously fast when you’d turn your head to look up to him, slowly moving his hand covering your face away— he’d watch a smile creeping in your face and getting wider. well too hypnotized by your beautiful smile to resist, he’d absentmindedly say it again when you ask him to..

can you lovelies tell me wether you prefer when i use english/stage names for reactions or not? :D

taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @nwjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexc @hsgpoet @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @yunabi436 @ashtxrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies @jwonsluvr @lynniebearrr-blog @bobabunhee @sunghoonsarmpit @ynsvnte @wonifullove @luvieden @shalkeren @thesunoosshining @smouches @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @sulkygyu @byhees @okwons @jwnghyuns @sleepyxxhead @baevsxii @nxzz-skz @who-tf-soddhi @armydrcamers @yeonzzzzs @boyfhee

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chlorinecake · 29 days

Text

PDA —⊹ N.RK (西村力) 🐈‍⬛

⭑⭒ 🪞 when you initiate physical touch with your shy boyfriend in public for the first time …

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠… 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ shy boyfriend!riki x fem!reader

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬… 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ fluff, public affection, hugs & kisses

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬… 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 𝟕𝟓𝟔 -> “Make it quick, alright?”

“Why do you keep laughing like that?” Riki asked with a slight chuckle in his voice while walking beside you, your hand flying to cover you mouth as a way to conceal your persistent giggles.

Your laughter was a sound that always had a way of tickling the ever-present flutter in your boyfriend’s lovesick heart.

“Like what?” you asked back, a warm smile and blush staining your face at his words.

“Like that! ‘Ehehehe’…” he said, mimicking your high pitched giggles in a playful tone, “you sound so goofy... but in a good way, obviously...”

You nudged his shoulder while walking beside him, now watching as he shyly smirked to himself at your sulky reaction.

Currently, you were both on a mission at the local convenience store in search for tasty snacks for your late night movie marathon.

His pushing pace of the shopping cart stalled as you two approached the sweets aisle, a certain thought meddling in your head before you spoke, “Hey… I just thought of something…”

“Mhm? …. Go on, I’m listening,” Riki smiled, nudging your shoulder in a similar way before reaching at the top shelf for a pack of cookies to examine what flavors it came with.

“Well… remember how when we first started dating, you didn’t like it when I tried displaying affection in public?” You started bashfully while fumbling with your fingers, despite how his piercing gaze wasn’t even on you in this moment.

“Yup… I remember,” he nodded, narrowing his eyes to get a better look at the tiny words he read on the package, “what about it?”

“Well… you just look super cute today…”

“Thanks, babe,” He giggled proudly, putting the cookies in the shopping basket and finally making eye contact with you, “tell me more…”

Now you were really starting to feel nervous about this.

“It’s just… the messy look of your hair from us cuddling earlier… and that plain black tee making your pretty little moles stand out even more…”

He almost couldn’t believe how much you were complimenting him in this moment.

“Y’know, if we were home right now, I’d give you the biggest hug and kiss for saying that,” he nearly whispered, giving your cheek a squeeze as you continued.

“That’s what I was just getting to!” You continued with a drawn out voice.

“Uh huh, and what’s that???” He returned in the same mimicky tone, peering closer to your face as if it’d help you dress up sooner.

“Uhm… is it okay if I give you a hug right now?” You pouted, leaning at the end of the basket and batting your eyelashes at him in a cartoonish way.

He chuckled under his breath, running a hand through his hair as his eyes now struggled to meet yours.

Finally looking back up at you, he smiled to himself before waddling over like a penguin, holding his arms out in a snowman manner and tilting his head at you, “Make it quick, alright?”

“Eeekkk!” You squealed, not even hesitating to wrap your arms around his waist as you melted into the comforting feeling of his heart beating against your skin, his warmth being more than enough to make you sigh into the embrace.

“You good now?” He asked, arms still hanging out like a scarecrow as he peered down to see your face snuggled into his chest.

“Mhm, almost,” you replied, taking his extended arms and guiding them to wrap around you, too.

Usually, Riki would’ve felt a bit uncomfortable with you acting this way, despite how behind closed doors, he would always cling to you like a baby sloth.

But something was different today.

You felt those strong arms squeeze around you even tighter, his fingers drawing lazy shapes at your sides before his lips sealed with the crown of your head.

You couldn’t believe he just kissed you…

And in public, at that.

Feeling as though both of your hearts were about to melt at this point, he loosened his hold on you , leaning down to your ear before whispering, “I love you, my little touch-deprived snuggle-bug…”

“I love you, too, meanie.” You replied with a tiny giggle, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound again.

Even though this was only a small step for your relationship, you’re glad Riki found it in himself to reciprocate your affection towards him.

“Alright, alright, let’s go get checked out now,” he said with feigned impatience, letting you ride on the end of the cart as he pushed the basket down the aisle, adoring fits of laughter slipping past both your lips.

tysm for reading this quick lil fic ✗⚬ﾒ𝟶 a/n ℓօⓥe always ⋆⋆⋆

🪷 𓂃 𓈒 tags: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @ot7sevenlvr

#enhypen #enhypen ff #enha imagines #enhypen headcanons #enha scenarios #nishimura riki #niki soft thoughts #niki imagines #niki soft hours #niki fluff #niki x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enha x reader #enha fluff #enhypen moodboard #niki ff

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buckyalpine · 9 months

Text

One Night

Bucky x f reader, Sam, Steve

IDK what this is, thought it’d be cute.

Warnings: ANGST but also lots of fluff, smut, pregnancy, flash back in italics, Bucky is a love sick puppy, story doesn’t follow exact Marvel timeline

Bucky didn’t have many things from the past he wanted back.

Not this desperately.

Most of his loved ones had already passed.

He made peace with the fact that he’d never get back the years that he’d lost, wouldn’t get the people that meant so much to him. He’d never get back all the hope and innocence he once had.

He’d managed to make peace with a number of things.

All but one.

It was just one night.

While he was on the run, just before Steve had found him.

He could still remember the feel of her soft skin.

The way her hands touched him so gently, the first time he’d ever had someone handle him with such care.

It was the only part of his routine in a day he looked forward to. It was the first time he felt hope again. The feeling of life. Of feeling alive.

Whenever he saw her, his heart would flutter a little faster. His feet would take longer strides so he’d see her sooner. He’d drop a few extra coins in her palm as she handed him the bag which always came with extra plums. He’d blush at the shy smile she’d give him, trying to refuse his extra money. He knew it was best to just admire from afar but he couldn’t escape the pull he felt, not when her voice was a soothing balm to all his heartache and pain.

He didn’t have the luxury to take her out for coffee. It was too dangerous, too risky, he’d never let anyone see her with him. She insisted she didn’t mind as long as she was with him, it didn’t matter where. He bought some tea and honey that day. A few cookies to go with it from a vendor beside hers.

His cheeks felt hot realizing the state of his apartment; wallpaper tearing off in the walls, the one glass and some mismatched mugs sitting on the counter top of the tiny kitchen. A single, worn mattress with nothing but a thin sheet to cover it sat in the corner of the room. A black backpack filled with his few belongings was stashed safely nearby incase he ever needed to run; the few clothes he had were folded neatly on a broken stool near his bed. She didn’t let him apologize for the mismatched mugs or the small chipped saucer he placed the cookies on but he wished he could have given her so much more.

Why did he think this was okay, this wasn’t what someone so sweet deserved. He was barely able to give her a glass of water, how could he possibly-

“James?” Her soft hand squeezed his, feeling him tense in her hold, his voice nervous as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry, I- this isn’t much-” He swallowed thickly, ready to apologize a thousand times over and beg her to leave. “You don’t have to stay-

“You don’t have to explain yourself” She smiled, letting her hand come up to cup his scruffy cheek, her thumb sweeping along the bags under his eyes. If only she knew the few times he slept peacefully was when he thought of her. There was a pull they both felt in the tiny space of the apartment, lit by the single lamp from the corner of the room. He let out a shaky breath, holding onto her waist with the softest touch as if she were made of porcelain.

“I-I haven’t done this in a long time” He shuddered, desperately wanting to feel the softness of her lips, the smoothness of her skin.

“Will you let me?” She let her hand gently trail up his broad chest, resting just above his where his heart was hammering against his ribcage. He nodded, staying frozen in place as her lips pressed softly against his, standing on her toes to reach more of him. He hesitantly dropped his hands lower pulling her closer, her tongue tracing along the seam of his lips, his mouth parting to let her in. He only pulled away when the need for oxygen was unavoidable, lips swollen and warm.

“I-” He wished he could have laid her down on the softest sheets and plushest pillows, a bed made for the angel that she was. Before he could start apologizing again she hushed him, pulling him to the thin mattress, laying with him. He let his hands explore her body, not remembering the last time he ever felt something so soft. He took his time sliding his hands up her thighs, down to her calves, feeling every inch of her skin, burning each touch to memory so he’d never forget.

He shivered at the feeling of her hands caressing his body, feeling the corded muscles that ran along underneath, fingers tracing over scars and divots that were permanently etched onto his skin. She didn’t give him a chance to feel self-conscious, worshipping the parts of himself he hated the most, her soft lips dancing along his shoulder between whispers of how he was worthy of love, clothes long forgotten.

“Can I?” He hesitantly asked, pumping his cock, gently rubbing it through her folds, feeling his tip dribble at how warm and wet she already was. There was nothing more he wanted than to be as close to her as possible, to be connected in a way so sacred and meaningful to him, to feel something he had never had before, not like this.

“Tell me what you want Jamie” her nose bumped against his, sighing contently at the feeling of him pressing against her, her thighs wrapping around his waist.

“I-

“Say it, love” She looked at him with such adoration, letting her hands drape across his thick wide shoulders, protected underneath his heavy body. His hair fell in a curtain around her, hiding the blush that covered his cheeks, the crimson flush deepening more when she pulled him in for a reassuring kiss.

“Want to be inside you” He moaned softly when she nodded, gasping with him as he began to push inside, a shiver trembling down his spine as he settled in her warmth.

“I won’t last” He shyly whispered, breathing heavily trying to collect himself, desperately wanting the feeling to last forever. “It’s-it’s been so long”

“We have all night” She cooed, squeezing her thighs together as a sign for him to be selfish, to let go and make himself feel good.

“Angel...” He moaned against her mouth as he started to move, hardly pulling out before pushing his hips back in. His strokes were deep, pressing her into the mattress each time, grinding his length in as far as it would go.

“Jamie” Her back arched off the bed, pressing her chest further against his, fingers carding through his chestnut locks.

“You- you feel so good” His voice was muffled, tucking his face into the crook if her neck, bringing his hands to lace with hers, pinning her against the mattress. Her heels dug into his lower back, locked together as he started to move faster.

“Not gonna last darling, I can’t- I-I want to but I can’t, I just can’t-

“Let go Jamie”

“Oh God-angel-m’sorry, feels-oh it feels so good-hngg, doll-m’cumming-please-”

“Thats it, c’mon, cum for me sweet boy” she rubbed his back, kissing his temple as he trembled above her, his moans and whines becoming more desperate. There was no second guessing anything as he let out a cry, clinging onto her tightly, shooting ropes of his warm spend into her.

He made love to her for hours that night as if he was the one thing that kept him alive. He refused to pull out, dozing off at the comforting feeling of his head on her soft chest, her arms cradling his body as if he were a precious baby, the both of them still connected together with a sticky mess between their legs, filling her with load after load.

“I’ll see you later” She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead as the sun peaked through the news paper that covered his windows, slipping her dress back on before collecting her things. He smiled, already planning for the next time he’d see her again; perhaps this time he’d buy some pastries too.

Little did he know that would be the last time he’d see her before he’d be on the run again.

Present

“He’s doing it again” Sam whispered to Steve, noting the way Bucky’s eyes scanned the crowd as if he were searching for someone but they couldn’t for the life of them figure out who Bucky would look for. It happened every single time. Be it a mission or a night out to relax, Bucky would zone out periodically, flicking blue eyes laser focused on every single person in the room.

“Force of habit I guess” Steve sighed, feeling awful that even after all this time, there wasn’t a day where Bucky felt safe in his surroundings, always looking out for danger. Bucky didn’t notice the conversation the men were having, too busy with doing a double check of all the faces that were also walking through the park.

It was pathetic. He wasn’t even in the same country from when he met her, it had been years but it didn’t stop him from always hoping. Always checking. He swallowed thickly while his mind continued to battle itself. It wasn’t healthy; he couldn’t go on like this, she probably didn’t even remember him but he just left without getting to even say good bye. What were the chances he’d ever see her again-

Until his eyes did a double take. The same beautiful smile, the same bright eyes, the same laughter that reignited the life in his heart. He got the same feeling all over again, cheeks immediately blushing, butterflies dancing in his tummy. His heart was ready to burst just like that night he spent with her.

There was no way.

But there was no one else. No one else like her.

No one else like you.

He’d waited and waited and he finally found you.

There you were, in the very same park in the middle of New York, in one of those sweet summer dresses he always loved on you. You had hardly changed, just as beautiful as he remembered from 4 years ago. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt hope like this, one where he thought he’d get his happy ending, not that he ever felt he deserved one but he couldn’t help it.

There you were.

His pretty angel.

His happiness was short lived when he saw you waving to a little boy jumping off the playground, his feet carrying him as fast as he could, running straight towards you. Perhaps a nephew or a little one you were babysitting-

“Mama!”

Bucky felt his heart sink to his stomach. The little one ran into your arms, clinging onto to you between squeals of laugher as you kissed his cheeks and carried him on your hip. He felt a thousand emotions crash over him at once as you walked off with your son in your arms, his already fragile heart breaking into two.

He had no right to you; no reason to expect you to be single. You deserved a life of happiness, of peace. You deserved to have someone in your life that would be there for you when you woke up each morning and someone to hold you when you went to sleep each night. Someone who could give you a family. Give you all the love you deserved every single day without having to fear they’d be missing without looking back twice.

You deserved more than him.

Then why did it hurt so much.

“You okay Bucky?” Steve noted the way his bestfriends face flushed, anxiously fidgeting with his fingers, quickly wiping away at his eyes while he nose reddened.

“Fine” Bucky nodded, clenching his jaw tightly and walking faster before the dam broke, his throat growing tighter. If only he had tried to find you earlier, always fearing searching for you would put you in danger. Now he had no chance, you’d found your happy ending. He let out the breath he was holding, thinking about the night he had with you, something he’d forever cherish. He thought about every single time he’d wake up extra early to see you. The first doll to ever make him blush like a school boy.

Maybe you were not with him.

But at least you were happy.

As long as you were happy, he’d be fine.

He had to be.

***

“Alright, what’s going on with you man” Sam spoke up, passing another beer to Steve, the three men lounging around the common room after the rest of the team had gone to sleep. It had taken both Steve and Sam hours of coaxing and bribing Bucky out of his room after he’d suddenly shut himself out from the rest of the world without reason for days on end. “You’re acting more and more like a hermit each day”

“Nothings going on-

“Cut the shit Buck” Steve deadpanned, sick of watching his best friend wither away without saying anything, clearly suffering in silence on the inside.

“You got Captain America swearing, now you have to tell us” Sam snorted while Bucky sighed, knowing he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“There was-there was a girl- she had a stall at the market I used to go to while I was on the run” The two men nodded, listening intently while Bucky recalled the way it started off as just small friendly conversations to him spending the day by her side, happy to hear her voice for hours. He recalled the extra plums she’d sneak into his bag knowing that's what he bought the most.

“Awww, you had a little crush, that’s cute” Sam gushed while Bucky blushed, continuing to the day he decided to ask you out.

“I couldn’t risk letting anyone seeing her with me and it’s not like I had money to even take her out for a proper coffee. She came back to my apartment. It was in bad shape but she didn’t mind”

“So what happened next” Sam wiggled his brows, clapping in excitement when Bucky looked away, the blush spreading to his ears.

“N-nothing-I made her some tea, had some cookies...nothing fancy”

“That’s all that happened that night?” Sam continued to prod while Steve had sat more upright with wide eyes, surprised about all the things he didn’t know up until now.

“Um-we-I-” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck while Steve smirked at the burettes nervousness, “She stayed the night” He looked at the two men with pleading puppy eyes, hoping they’d understand what he meant without him having to come outright and say it.

“Get it terminator” Sam clapped Bucky’s back while he groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “So what's the problem”

“Uh, well the next day she left in the morning and it was the same day I had to run again. Took my backpack and ran with Steve. I couldn’t even say good bye. I wanted to go back to find her but I was never able to. I also didn’t want to put her life at risk being associated with me and I never saw her again. Anyway. I-uh, just been thinking about her recently. It’s no big deal” Steve narrowed his eyes at the way Bucky nervously chewed his lip, clearly not telling them the full story.

“Stark has the best facial recognition technology in the world, just say the word, we can find her” Sam offered but Bucky shook his head. He couldn’t bring himself to tell them the reason why he wouldn’t have a chance with you again. That he did see you again and you had moved on with your life and found your own happiness. He chugged the last of his beer before calling it at early night. He squeezed his eyes shut but sleep refused to come. Maybe he would’ve been okay if he had never seen you. He’d waited too long to find you. It was his fault for being so scared.

He thought about how happy you looked scooping your son into your arms. The way he held onto you with so much love. He just knew you were the sweetest mama, your happy baby boy clear evidence of that.

What he would've have given to have a family like that with you.

***

“Mama?” You son yawned, looking at you with hopeful eyes while you closed his story book, putting it away on the shelf before tucking him into bed. “It’s Saturday tomorrow so...can we see daddy? I didn’t get to see him last weekend”

Your little one looked forward to weekends and spending the day with his dad, having missed the last visit because you had to work over time and dropped him off with a sitter instead.

“Of course baby, we’ll see him tomorrow” You smiled, kissing his forehead and pulling the sheets up to cover him. “First thing in the morning, okay? we’ll even take some snacks, remember I made his favorite?”

“Okay” Your son gave you a sleep nod before dozing off, clutching onto his teddy bear, his alarm set for 8:00 AM sharp. As soon as it went off, he was up and changed, practically pushing you out the door while you grabbed the keys and tote bag.

***

“You look like shit punk” Steve frowned at the growing bags under Bucky’s eyes, his facial scruff growing thicker each day. There was something Bucky had left out from his story, Steve just knew it, why was his friend randomly hung up over a girl years after seeing her? Sam nodded, him and the Captain ready to stage an intervention if Bucky decided to lock himself away in his room for another week.

“It’s nothing” Bucky tried to shrug it off but Steve wasn’t having any of it, setting down his coffee mug with determination written all over his face.

“C’mon. You need to get out of the compound. For fucks sake, at least get out of your room” Both men shoved him out the door, ignoring his grumpy rambling and into a car hoping a day at the museum would slightly perk up the super soldier who was also quite the science and history nerd.

***

You walked hand in hand with your little one smiling at the extra skip in his step, a contagious smile on his face. He didn’t want to waste another second, feeling giddy the closer he got. It was better than he imagined. As soon as they reached the area, he clung onto your leg, snuggling against you when you carried him.

“See daddy?” You whispered, going through the updated and expanded exhibit at the museum, doing your best to hold it together while you showed your son the new Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes display that was beside Captain America. The previous displays only contained information about the winter soldier with limited details about who he was before his capture. After Bucky had been pardoned of the things he was forced to do because of Hydra, the new exhibit rewrote his story to reflect his bravery and acts of heroism.

Your son looked in awe at the new figures of his dad, seeing him in different uniforms from one in a classic army green and another in a navy blue. You read all the information cards out to him, something he had memorized at this point from your frequent visits but it didn’t matter. He loved hearing the same stories over and over again. How his daddy loved his best friend and stuck by his side no matter what. How he saved so many people. How he tried to fight back the bad people that wanted to hurt him.

“Does daddy love me?” Your son asked in a small voice, still trying to understand why his favorite hero never came to see him and why he only saw him on tv or when they came to the museum. Didn’t his dad ever want to come see him?

“Of course baby, of course he does” you reassured your son, setting him down so he could get a closer look at the pictures of the Howling Commandos. “I know he’d love you so much” You whispered the last bit to yourself, blinking back tears, wishing you could so badly things had been different.

But they weren’t.

***

For a moment, Bucky had almost forgotten all about his heartbreak, deeply immersed in each section of the museum like a child in a candy shop. It was impossible to pull him away from anything each time he paused to read, eyes wide with wonder.

“Y’know they updated the section with you and Cap” Sam nudged Bucky's shoulder trying to get his attention, the brunette fully focused on reading about ancient civilizations instead.

“In a sec-”

“Don’t in a sec me, c’mon lets go look, I wanna see the so called handsome soldier Steve is always on about” Sam grabbed Bucky’s arm while Steve followed the two, all three men heading towards the section about American History and the World War.

***

“Is daddy safe now?” Your son asked, remembering you had told him it was hard for his dad to come see him because some bad people were trying to hurt him but luckily his best friend Uncle Stevie was right by his side. “Are bad people still trying to hurt him?”

“He’s safe now sweetheart, no one is trying to hurt him anymore. He’s out there stopping the bad guys now! See? You’re daddy is still a hero bub” You pointed to the part of the display that showed Bucky with his new arm from Wakanda, the section explaining his current endeavors working with the avengers.

“Doesn’t he want to see me?” He tried not to pout, not wanting to upset you with the question, though wishing he could see his dad just once. Your heart broke at the brave face he tried to keep up, shuffling on his feet, looking down at his shoes instead.

“He would baby, it’s just a little hard when he has to help the Avengers save the world. Remember there's chocolate chip cookies to look forward to? How about we eat it at the park once were all done?” You hoped the sugary snack would make your son feel a tad bit better, letting him wander around the area while you looked at the recent pictures of Bucky.

He was different from when you’d last seen him. Shorter hair. A darker metal for his arm. He still had to same beautiful blue eyes. The sweetest smile on those pink lips. From what you’d learned, he was doing much better, having joined the avengers and gaining more stability in his life. You sighed, letting your fingers trace over his face, missing the way his scruffy cheeks felt, the softness of his voice. You would’ve given anything to see him just one more time.

***

“Hey Buck, look, they got a new picture of Dum Dum” Steve grinned, seeing the enhanced photos with color added, with a young bright eyed sergeant standing in the middle, brave on the outside but a scared young boy on the inside. Bucky smiled softly at the Captain America figure, along with the large displays, proud of his best friend, going from the scrawny kid who was constantly sick to a symbol of bravery and courage. Bucky took his time reading every single word until another soft voice caught his attention. He’d know that voice anywhere.

It couldn’t be.

It was.

“They even got a picture of us together after our first recuse!” Steve felt his heart swell at the memories, pawing at the other super soldier who hadn’t said a word in response. “Buck? You okay?”

Bucky stayed frozen on the spot, his heart nearly stopping all together. He peered over to the side. There you were. In a sweet summer dress. Your little one looked at the life-sized statue of Bucky with wide eyes, gently touching the metal arm replica, studying each detail. Bucky’s feet carried him on their own, slowly approaching her one step at a time, the rest of the world blocked out, nothing but a faint buzzing. Steve was about to ask where he was going until he noticed the love struck look on his bestfriends face approaching a beautiful woman he’d never seen before. He and Sam looked at each other, observing silently and putting two and two together. They quietly slipped away to give you both privacy (though not soo far where they wouldn't be able to see anything).

You sensed someone was nearby, apologizing for standing in the way if they were trying to get by, moving two steps over. But they stepped closer. You looked up from the display you were reading, and gasping at the man that stood before you. There he was, after so long, the only person that had been on your mind day and night, the one person you always hoped to have another chance with.

“J-James?”

“Doll” Bucky’s voice cracked, looking down at you with the soft gaze you had fallen for, his fingers twitching to grab your waist and hug you till you wriggled out of his arms. He wanted to kiss you breathless, fall on his knees and ask you to forgive him for having to run, a selfish part of him hoping he’d still have another chance even though he knew it was impossible. He fought back tears when you closed the cap between you both standing toe to toe, your hand coming up to gently cup his cheek. He couldn't help but place his hand on top of yours, pressing it against his face and leaning into your touch, greedy for anything you’d give him, he needed you so badly.

“How have you been James” You whispered, letting your thumb caress his stubble, feeling too many emotions all at once, itching to bury your face into his chest. Bucky couldn’t bring himself to answer, too lost in your eyes and feeling your touch after so long. He pressed his lips softly against the inside of your palm, again selfishly grasping at straws. He’d take whatever he could before having to let you go. The soft scent of your perfume lingered on your wrist, the very same he still remembered.

When he had kissed your jaw.

When he kissed your bare shoulders.

When he buried his face against your neck while coming apart for you, your warm, soft, naked body under his.

“I’m okay” He nodded as best as he could while you hummed, now tracing over his lips. Those perfect lips you didn’t get to kiss enough. “How have you been, sweets” He didn’t know if he had any right to call you that anymore but it flowed so naturally.

“I’ve missed you” A tear you hadn’t noticed rolled down your cheek, his cool metal thumb swiping it away. His heart broke seeing your lip trembling, desperately trying to hold it together.

“I missed you so much doll, you have no idea I-” Bucky caught himself before rambling about how he was still in love with you when he heard the soft giggle of your son. You weren’t his. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I’m so sorry-” He shook his head to collect himself while you got lost in his eyes that were filled with emotion.

Did he still love you? Would he want you if he knew about-

“I’m happy to see you’re doing well” Bucky smiled, nodding to your little on who was so busy looking at the models of Captain America’s Shield's to notice his mommy was talking to someone very important. “You deserve it all sweets, he’s so lucky. Both of them are”

Who was both.? You frowned at Bucky’s words wondering who he was referring to while his fingers twitched, tracing over your face one last time. You wracked your brain until realization hit you like a ton of bricks; he thought you were with someone else. You swallowed away the lump that formed in your throat, struggling to speak while Bucky’s hand dropped from your cheek. He started to walk away, not wanting to break down in the middle of the museum.

“Jamie, wait!” Bucky turned around with glassy eyes, doing his best to muster a smile while you managed to grab his wrist to stop him, the feeling of your hands on him already too much. “I-uh-

“Mama! Daddy?” Your little one gasped as he approached you and took in the man that was speaking to his mom. His voice had dropped to a whisper, staying pressed by your side, gently tugging on the skirt of your dress “Mama, is-is that daddy?”

“That’s daddy baby” You nodded through teary eyes while Bucky’s heart started to hammer, not understanding, watching you pick the little one up. He looked at Bucky with wide eyes, the same steel blues as his father with a mop of soft, dark brown hair on his head.

“W-what?” Bucky stuttered while you took a step closer to him.

“This-this is your son, Daniel James Barnes” You whispered, eyes locked with his while he stayed frozen on the spot. Daniel looked about 4, the dates all adding up to when he had last seen you. Your son grew bashfully shy, tucking his face away, taking occasional peeks over at the one person he was dying to meet.

“He’s mine?” Bucky felt like he’d lost his voice, unable to speak above a whisper while you nodded, “I have a son?” He felt like a child himself, joy and love blooming through his chest, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, overcoming with emotion.

“He’s yours Jamie, Daniel, sweetheart, say hi to daddy” Daniel’s shyness melted the second Bucky nervously extended his hands out, immediately jumping into his daddy’s arms and crawling up him till he was wrapped around him like a little koala.

“Daddy” He smiled, eyes twinkling with mischief and love, just like a young baby Bucky.

“Hey baby” Bucky smiled against his hair, holding him for a moment before loosening his hold if he wanted to be set down, not wanting to overwhelm him considering it was the first time they’d actually met. Daniel seemed unbothered, continuing to cling onto his father, more than happy to finally see him in real life.

You smiled at the scene before you, one you’d only ever seen in your dreams. Bucky reached out, wrapping his arms tightly around you as best as he could, the broken fragments of his heart quickly piecing back together as you held onto him just as tightly, your head on his chest.

“I’m sorry love, I’m so sorry you had to go through it all alone” Bucky whispered into your hair, pressing firm kisses along your hairline, his hands ghosting over your tummy, wishing he was there for feel the little kicks and flutters from when you were pregnant. “I wish I was there, I’m sorry I had to run baby, I didn’t want to leave”

“It’s okay” You shook your head, not caring the slightest because you finally had him back. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t want to show up with a baby and make it harder for you when you were just getting your life together. We missed you Jamie”

“Never leaving you again, m’here now doll” Bucky pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before also kissing his son’s head, still reeling over the fact that the little one he was carrying was his. Nothing else mattered anymore, not when he not only had you back but also the baby you’d made together. The three of you stayed in your own little bubble of soft whispers and giggled until a crashing interrupted your conversation.

Bucky whipped around, snorting when he saw Sam on the floor along with a sheepish looking Steve on top of him, both men doing a poor job of masking the fact that they’d fallen over from their hiding spot. Bucky shook his head, taking your hand in his and walking over to them while they got up and straightened themselves up, grinning at the blushing super soldier.

“That’s yo kid” Sam pointed to the little one in Bucky’s arms with wide eyes, not doubting it for a second, not needing a DNA test to confirm it. “Tell me I’m right. That is your son”

“This is Daniel James Barnes” Bucky grinned, gently ruffling his sons hair while Daniel pulled away from his dad’s neck, gasping at the other two faces he recognized from the frequent museum visits with you.

“Uncle Steve! Uncle Sam!”

“Hey little man” Steve smiled, grunting when he was met with 35 lbs of force running into him, much stronger than most kids his age. Must be from his father.

“You helped daddy” Daniel now held onto the blonde super soldier, the both of them looking at an old imagine of Bucky and Steve with their arms around each others shoulders, smiling through dirt smeared faces, their army uniform word and tearing from battle.

“He saved me first” Steve stated proudly, his eyes growing steamy when he looked over to see Bucky looking at you with heart eyes, trying to discreetly kiss every bit of your face with feathery light touched of his lips to your cheeks.

“C’mon, let me show you what me and your dad really got up to” Sam took Daniel from Steve, throwing him onto his shoulders to show him the newest things the avengers were doing.

Bucky smiled watching his two best friends play with his little one, this time wrapping both his arms around you and hugging you as tight as he possibly could. You sighed contently, only relaxing for a moment before you froze again and pulled back, gently cupping his face.

“I know its a lot, this, me, all of it after so long” You nervously chewed your lip, worried you were throwing too much onto Bucky all at once, “If you don’t want all of this- I-we can figure something out or- we don’t have to-

Bucky shut you up with a deep kiss, refusing to pull away until you both gasped for air.

“Stop. I waited my whole life to meet someone like you. Then I lost you. Just when I thought I’d never get you back again, you give me a family, doll please don’t” Bucky pleaded, not interested in hearing anything else you had to say, “I want this, I want it all baby, want it all with you. Want you, my baby, I want it, I promise”

“Are you sure?”

A second long kiss that stole your breath confirmed he was indeed very very sure, with many more kisses to prove it. He finally found his happy ending.

Bonus:

Steve and Sam’s POV

“You see that little one running around over there” Sam pointed to your son who was in his own world while you and Bucky spoke off to the side.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t think...it has to be, right?”

“What are you saying Sam” Steve cocked and eyebrow but he was thinking the same thing Sam was, just not voicing it out loud, not wanting to get anyone's hopes up. It had to be. Hopefully.

“That’s his kid right. There's no way. Look at him, that's a carbon copy of terminator. That's a tiny terminator”

“Well the time line adds up” Steve nodded while Sam grinned, noting the way your son’s nose scrunched up when he smile, just like Bucky’s

“I call God Father” Sam stated while the blonde rolled his eyes as if he had any competition in the first place.

“Get up a little closer, I can’t hear what their saying” Steve hissed from over Sam’s shoulder only to be elbowed back in the stomach.

“Aren’t you the one with super hearing, shouldn’t you be able to hear them” Sam shook his head, nearly stumbling forward at the weight of Steve leaning over him to get a better look, “If you don’t stop crawling up my back, I’m gonna fall over”

“Just scoot up a little-

“I can’t- oh fuck-

“Shit-

Sam lost his footing, crashing onto the floor from behind the display they were hiding behind, along with Captain America lying on top of him, still more interested in you and Bucky over him crushing Sam under him.

“You’re an idiot” Sam huffed, knowing they’d gotten caught when Bucky turned around and looked at them.

“Shut up”

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dilfl0v3rss · 9 months

Note

Choso punishing y/n for acting out/ talking back to him ?? 😝

YETH😩

even though choso was on the quieter side and didn’t really like to go out he always found himself outside all the time with you. whether it be a shopping spree or a cute little date, choso was outside much more then he used to be before he met you. today you had dragged him out of the house once again to do something the both of you enjoyed.

“okay you can open your eyes now” excitement ran through your bones as you posed in the fitting room for your boyfriend. the pretty shirt and crop top sitting nicely on your body as choso gave you a bored thumbs up from his seat. “look beautiful mama” though his expression was dull, you could tell he truly meant his words given the small raise of his eyebrow. “why thank you” you said before turning around to try on something else. as you dug through the clothes you had hung up you tried your best not to reveal the little scandalous outfit you snuck into your pile. since choso never really payed attention to what you got, you knew he wouldn’t notice it on the checkout table, but you didn’t want to risk leaving it on the rack since there was only one left.

as you looked for your next outfit to try choso, being the observant man he is, noticed the fishnet dress in the back of the other clothes. his curiosity got the best of him when he stood to inspect it himself. as he grabbed the fabric he noticed that the dress was completely see through, the little holes leaving no room for the imagination as he seen the paint of the white wall right through them. “try this” he mumbled, handing the dress to you before sitting back down. you excitedly took the dress. ‘maybe he’ll like it too’ you thought as you quickly changed out of the previous outfit to get it on. choso watched you quietly, his dick already hardening as he watched all your dips and curves settle in the fabric.

you looked absolutely beautiful, but also very very slutty. choso loved it, hoping you were planning on getting it for your home activities. he realized how wrong he was when you spoke. “you like it? i was thinking of wearing it to this party i got invited to saturday” his face dropped at your words, annoyance heard i’m his voice as he completely cut off your sentences with a wave of his hand. “y’thought wrong, must be crazy if you think i’m okay wit you wearing that” choso mumbled, his anger already growing at the disrespectful suck of your teeth you decided to give him. you rolled your eyes, continuing to look at yourself in one of the mirrors as if you weren’t bothered by him at all. “well ion care what you okay wit, you not the boss of me nigga”

choso’s eyes widened at your boldness, a small smirk threatening to show as he slowly got up from the small bench in the fitting room. “m’not?” he asked, his deep voice already making your thighs clench together. some of his strands of hair began to fall from his bun while he looked down at you. it was almost impossible for you not to be turned on, his broad chest in your face as choso stood in his tight white tee and black sweats, concords on his feet giving him an even taller look. his teeth were bare to you, his smirk winning over control of his face as he lowered his lips to your ear. “let’s see then”

given the shy, quiet nature your boyfriend had you thought he’d quietly walk you out the store and deal with you at home. what you didn’t know was that he was getting a little tired of waiting and decided today would be the day he did the unthinkable. you were bent over in front of the mirror, his big, inked hand covering your mouth as choso brutally fucked you from behind. all that could be heard was the calm music in the store and your muffled cries since choso thought it’d be more convenient if he freed himself from the small opening in his boxers to keep from suspicious slapping noises being heard in the back.

“ima ask you again ma…who’s in charge?” as he asked you the question choso angled his dick down towards your g spot, fucking you even harder as he watched your eyes roll back in the mirror. his other hand moved from you waist to your hair, pulling your head back so you can get a good look at what was being done to you. “ion care if you can’t talk i just need you t’look at him. look at the one in charge mama” your eyes began to refocus, instantly moving to the dark ones belonging to the muscular man behind you. a light smirk instantly moved to his lips, his eyebrow raising in faux surprise as he quickened the pace of his strokes.

“oh really now? could’ve swore you were saying it was someone else. maybe we should have them come fuck you and take care of you huh?” choso began to pull out of you, acting as if he would let you go. he couldn’t help but chuckle at how desperate you became, a pleading look in your eyes as you shook your head at him, walls tightening around his dick as your pussy tried to suck him back in. choso slowly moved his hand from your mouth to which you immediately opened your mouth and spoke. “no papa i was just playinnn. ima listen okay, you wonnn” you whined, pushing yourself back on his dick as you tried to fuck yourself the way he does it.

“i won?” he teased, slowly pushing himself deeper into you to make your eyes roll. “y-yesss you won daddy” choso chuckled, placing his hand back over your mouth before picking back up to the quick brutal pace he had earlier. your screams going right into his hand as you felt your arousal begin to trickle down your thighs.

“that’s what i thought”

#choso x black y/n #choso x black reader #choso x black!reader #choso smut #jjk choso x black fem!reader #jjk choso x black!reader #jjk choso x black y/n #jjk choso smut #jjk x black!reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x black!fem reader #jjk x black y/n #choso x black fem!reader

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aureatchi · 3 months

Text

⚕ ᡣ𐭩 . ° . AND IF THERE WAS A PLACE I HAD TO CHOOSE…IT’D BE IN YOUR ARMS TONIGHT. (bedroom session) ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, akutagawa, sigma

— how the bsd men treat you when you’re sick. (& more)

a/n. started writing when i was sick djsjsja. tagging my moots who were under the weather anytime this month <3 to them & anyone else unwell, feel better soon !!

info. fem!reader. fluff. established relationships. light angst & hospital in akutagawa’s. chuuya plays the guitar. you play the piano in fyodor’s. sigma’s a chef. some inspo from RED for dazai & fyodor’s (our hcs!)

DAZAI will cuddle with you anyway, even when you are buried under bundles of blankets. he still thinks you need a little more warmth…and you look just too cute wrapped up in what resembles an igloo to not nuzzle with you! however, don’t be surprised when he blames you for making him sick once you recover, as if it wasn’t his fault.

“A-choo!” Your eyes were watery, you felt too cold for your liking, and it was harder than usual to breathe through your nose. Your sneeze made you sit up in discomfort, and you hastily pulled the covers toward you.

“‘Bella? Are you alright?” Dazai sat up next, meeting your eyes as you turned your face toward him.

He noticed how flushed your cheeks were and how watery your eyes were as you frowned—no, the first thought Dazai had wasn’t Oh no! You’re sick!

“Aw, love! You look so cute!” And he tackled you back down.

“Osamu!” you shouted as he lay practically atop you, squeezing you like a teddy bear.

“‘Samu!” you repeated once more. “You’re going to suffocate me!”

“You feel so cold, though, darling!” His reply was muffled as he buried his face into your neck.

“It’s like you’re trying to get yourself sick!”

He sat the both of you back up.

“H-huh? What’d you mean? Why would anyone willingly get sick?”

“Oh, I’m not sure either!” you exclaimed. “Maybe so you can use it as an excuse to skip wor-“

You sneezed again, interrupting your statement, seeing through Dazai’s plan.

“Bless you ‘bella!” he replied, a bit too excited. “What were you saying?”

“I. Was-” you sneezed again. And then twice. And then thrice.

“Aw, my poor baby!” Dazai spoke in his infantile voice. “Looks like you’re super sick…don’t you worry your pretty head about that. I have a solution.”

“Yes, please,” you responded—as best as you could with him pinching your cheeks—thinking Dazai would finally get up and bring you medicine so you didn’t have to do it yourself. That was, in fact, a terrible assumption.

“You trust me so well you didn’t even wait for me to tell you!”

“Uh-”

He then proceeded to pepper your entire face with kisses.

“Get-well kisses! They work better than medicine, trust me. Because these ones are made from lo-ove~.”

“Osamu!” you shouted. “You’re really going to get sick!”

“Do you really think I care, pretty?” He moved his face so his nose was touching yours. “I’ll tell you a secret. I know why I’d get willingly sick. So that I’ll be taken care of by my favorite girl in the world-“

“You’re so stupid!” you facepalmed. “You see being ill as a reward?”

“Yeah, I’ll make you believe so by the end of the day,” he winked. “I’m not going anywhere.”

…

Thankfully, Dazai did give you medicine to clear your stuffy nose. And then he told you to stay in bed while he would prepare you…breakfast.

“Oh no,” you said, knowing well that you mostly cooked the meals for a reason. Dazai was good at many things, but there were exceptions. He wasn’t the worst cook, but he certainly wasn’t the best.

“Wait, please trust me on this one!” he pleaded before you could get up. “I promise you I won’t burn the house down.”

The brunette was staring at you with dramatic puppy-dog eyes, and you were too tired to object any further.

“You have to make sure it’s edible, too,” you glumly replied.

…

It felt like almost an hour passed. You started to get worried—was he really struggling with cooking you something? You imagined the kitchen would be a chaotic nightmare by now, and it was enough to make you want to check on him.

But the moment you decided to get up, the door opened with Dazai bringing in a bowl of hot soup. Surprisingly, you could smell the aroma—and it was good.

“You really underestimated me, ‘bella?” Dazai smirked as he placed the bowl on a portable bed tray. “Bon appétit!”

“I haven’t even tried it yet,” you smiled back. “It might be the worst soup I’ve ever had.”

It wasn’t bad. You hated to admit it, but it tasted delicious.

“The virus must’ve affected my taste buds, too,” you chuckled. “Because for someone whose forte isn’t cooking, this tastes really good.”

Dazai wiped his head with a phew! “I actually…put in a lot of effort. I wanted to make sure I did it all right for you. Sorry it took so long.”

You wanted to hug him. You found it so adorable that he had really taken his time to make you something.

“Awe, thanks, Osamu,” you responded. “This was really sweet.”

“So…do I get a few kisses and back rubs as a thank you?” he asked.

“Sorry, back rubs? I’m the one sick; you should be the one giving me them!”

…

Dazai ended up giving you the massages in exchange for continuing to cling to you without complaint. You accepted and were defeated at this point—the man really wasn’t going anywhere.

He continued to stay with you until you felt better, and very unsurprisingly he spoiled your recovery celebration by becoming sick himself.

“Heh…” he mumbled as you looked at the thermometer with a frown. Contradicting was Dazai with a large smile, despite just finding out he had a fever.

“Your turn, ‘bella!” he exclaimed. “I already called Kunikida saying I’m going to be out for another week! This almost beats a vacation.”

“Osamu!”

“What? Any time spent with you feels just as amazing. And this is just a result of how well I’ve taken care of you.”

CHUUYA wants to make your recovery as comfortable and entertaining as possible—he doesn’t want his darling feeling mopey the entire time. after all, enjoying something distracts one from the botherations of being sick, right?

You hadn’t done as much as you would’ve liked today. Unfortunately, you were sick, but not to the point where you had to visit a doctor or were stuck in bed. It was an inconvenient gray area, where you were still able to do things but accompanied by the mild symptoms of a cold.

“Nah, doll, you’re just a workaholic.”

Chuuya laughed as you pouted while trying to do your laundry. Just because you were sick didn’t mean you should skip your chores. You would probably still go to work the next day, too—as long as you weren’t dying, you’d be alright.

You sort of felt like you were, though. You were overcome by a haze of debilitation, whether you wanted to admit it or not. But you couldn’t just sit around all day.

“I’m fine though, Chuu,” you replied, but a contradicting sneeze immediately followed.

“Your nose is saying something different,” he replied, handing you a tissue. “If you’re so bored, how ‘bout we do something actually fun? And won’t exhaust the life out of you?”

“Well, what are you thinking?” you asked, curious as you wiped your nose.

…

Chuuya had you sat by the table with a bowl and a box of cornstarch.

“Out of all people, it was Q who showed me this.” You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s not dangerous. It’s weird, but I can’t deny this entrances me.”

Chuuya poured some cornstarch into the container and added a cup of water. “It gets a little messy, but…” he started combining the contents until it became a gooey mixture.

You started giggling. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the sort of crafts experiment you did as a kid.

“Chuu, this is quicksand. You’ve never made it before?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Quicksand? Nope. But look—if you play around with it, it becomes solid—isn’t that amazing? But if you let it go-“

“It turns back into liquid, yes,” you replied before you sneezed again.

“It’s so weird! What kinda manipulation is this?

You couldn’t help but laugh at how the Port Mafia executive was captivated by such a simple science project. You watched as he played around with the oobleck.

You realized you could live this day simply as well. You proceeded to make your own cool mixture as well.

“You got some on your face,” Chuuya said a little after you were finished with your venture and were washing your hands.

“Where?” you asked, about to touch your head.

“Right here,” you felt his thumb gently rub your cheek and then move around your neck to tug you closer.

“Just kidding.” He stole a kiss in its place.

…

Chuuya sat down on the edge of the bed with his guitar. It was late afternoon, and you decided for once a very needed nap. But not before your lover entertained you with one more thing.

“I’m gonna give ya a little performance.”

He strung his guitar several times and ensured everything was correctly tuned.

Your widened eyes in curiosity made his heart warm. You were so enamored with everything he did—just as he was utterly obsessed with you.

He started playing a familiar tune. Your favorite song. You immediately smiled despite your oncoming headache.

“One day, I think I’ll write my own song for you,” Chuuya said. “You work so hard, how couldn’t you be the inspiration of a ballad?”

You cherished times like these. Even though you were sick, you had the company of the soft, sweetheart side of the Mafia Executive.

FYODOR is full of surprises, and you falling ill is no exception. unexpectedly, he decides to let go of his schemes and responsibilities for the day, to make sure you’re feeling better.

He could already tell by your unusual exhaustion yesterday evening. You didn’t do anything that required more exertion than usual, and it was too frigid in the year for you to feel so hot.

Fyodor already knew you wouldn’t feel so good when you woke up the following day. Your cheeks were flushed, and your head was pounding. It even ached to sit up. It was the worst combination.

Feverishly, you sneezed. A tissue was immediately placed over your nose.

“Blow, milaya.”

You looked up at Fyodor, who was standing by the bed. His amethyst gaze fell upon you—his usual amalgam of tranquility and complacency looked a bit different today…was there a hint of concern shining through his eyes?

You took the tissue from his hands and blew your nose.

“You’re supposed to be at work, no?”

You tried your hardest not to get sick because of this reason. You would be another hassle on Fyodor’s list of endeavors. You hated the thought of contributing, especially when he was already stressed and occasionally neglected his own needs with what he already had to do.

“You would really expect me to when I had to carry you to bed last night?”

The previous evening was a blur. Sometime after dinner, the weather immediately flew over you, and all your energy just drained out.

“Ah.” You sneezed again into the tissue. “Well, I think I’ll be fine on my own. I know you have a lot on your hands. I can take care of myse-“

“Please believe me. You’re not being a burden,” Fyodor cut you off and directly addressed the point you had been dancing around. His hand found yours and started to massage your fingers. He felt ice cold against you—or perhaps, you were on fire.

“Is your throat sore? I’ll make you some tea.”

…

He didn’t leave you alone for too long. Fyodor returned with a cup of hot ginger tea that you immediately took, desperate for some relief for your throat. Your nose was quickly soothed by the warm, sharp aroma of the ginger as you held the mug close to your mouth.

If there was one thing you learned, there was a type of tea for every occasion. Fyodor had an entire cabinet dedicated to those beverages—all precisely arranged.

“Is it alright?” Fyodor asked as you sipped, the liquid alleviating the soreness in your throat.

“Yes, of course,” you replied. “Maybe after I can try to get up…” your voice trailed off as you struggled even to shift your position.

“What’s wrong?” Fyodor moved beside you again as you frowned.

“I feel really sore. Like I ran a marathon without stretching at all yesterday,” you dryly chuckled, even though that had not been the case at all. Your whole body ached; it felt uncomfortable to move anything, and you felt awfully weak.

Fyodor didn’t respond for a moment, thinking.

“You can still entertain yourself without moving. Do you want to read? I’ll bring you to the living room.”

You curtly nodded your head and picked out one of the many books on the large shelf before Fyodor carried you to the sofa in the next room.

“Stay on my lap,” he said, holding you by your waist when you tried to move away.

“I don’t want you to get sick too,” you replied, confused.

“I won’t, don’t worry. Besides, I’m doing a favor for you.”

He motioned for you to enjoy your book and not pay attention to him. So you did as he said—you flipped to the page you left off on and tried to immerse yourself in the plot.

It got easy to do so and lose track of reality because Fyodor started to massage you—hands moving in circular motions on your shoulders to ease and relax the pain on your joints.

You felt both too hot and cold alone on your bed earlier. But here, in the embrace of your lover, you could see the end of your little tunnel of fever.

“Thank you, Fedya,” you whispered sometime after.

…

He got up to do something on his own a little later, but not before tucking you into the softest blankets you owned on the couch. He admired you for a moment right after—a touch of amusement in his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” you asked with a pout. You felt like you were made into a burrito.

Fyodor had thought the same.

“Milashka,” he simply smiled.

You thought he went away to attend to the business he was able to at home—Fyodor was infamous for being a workaholic after all, but you were surprised once again when amidst your reading, you heard a melody coming from the other room. Rich and resonant, you realized he was practicing his cello.

You placed your book down and freed yourself from the warm blankets before making your way over to the next room, disregarding the dull pain that still accompanied you.

Fyodor didn’t pause as you entered and sat down on the piano’s stool. You opened the cover and placed your fingers on the keys before smoothly joining in with the composition you had secretly been learning while he was away so you could play with him.

He probably suspected it anyway, but you still smiled and felt a little pride as you harmonized with him without error—and while sick.

♬♩♫♪

There was a moment of silence after the final note. You felt at peace. The tune made you sleepy.

Fyodor stepped towards you, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

“You played it perfectly, lyubov,” he said before kissing your forehead. “How about a nap now as a reward?”

…

After a glass of water and an adjustment of the heater, Fyodor tucked you back under the covers. He checked your temperature with the back of his palm, and he was appeased to find that your fever had noticeably gone down.

You suddenly giggled, catching Fyodor off guard.

“Why are you giggling?”

“I had an observation,” you chirped. You wanted to tell him it was evident he had been stealing physical affection from you throughout the day and that he wasn’t sly, but alas, exhaustion had overcome you again.

You took his own hand in yours. “Wash your hands after,” you whispered before placing a kiss on his fingertips. “This was nice. I feel better because of you staying.”

AKUTAGAWA feels that the roles have been reversed because it is usually him who is sick, and you helping him get better. however, this time it’s you, and so he wants to repay all the care and love you showed him. for once, not to prove something, but to show proof of your adoration towards him.

You didn’t want Akutagawa to visit you that day. You had sent him a text earlier that you were sick—your pneumonia was so severe that you were admitted to the hospital. He immediately rushed over right after.

You told him he didn’t have to—truthfully, half of your heart didn’t want him to because of his already weakened immune system and his tendency to get sick easily.

Yet he still showed up at your bedside with a “get-better” box and pink tulips, a mask covering half his face.

“Ryu, I appreciate this so much,” you told him, a cough accompanying your statement. “But I promise you don’t need to stay—I don’t want you to get sick too.”

He didn’t respond before striding over to the sink as if he were in his own house, grabbing a vase and filling it with water. You watched him trim your flowers, place them in the container, and then putting it on the counter.

“Ryu…”

“You’re in the hospital. Do you think I could just go about my day like my girlfriend isn’t sick?”

Even though his tone was straightforward, his hand gently brushed away the hair covering your eyes.

He was visibly bothered. He hated seeing you in the hospital gown, lying on the bed. He hated the IV line attached to you and the distant beeps! of your vitals. Akutagawa went through this experience more often than not, and if not painful, it was always irritating and unpleasant.

He would never want you going through this, even once.

“Are you comfortable? Should I move you to one of the VIP rooms?”

“That’s not necessary, thank you though,” you replied. You noticed the exhaustive distress in his argentine eyes.

“I’m going to be okay, Ryu,” you reassured him. “I promise. Just don’t touch me for now.”

Akutagawa nodded. “Are you hungry? Is there anything you’re craving?”

“I want…something sweet,” you bashfully replied. “All the hospital food was savory…they missed a dessert.”

You could see the corners of his mouth slightly lift up—an unlikely smile, especially in a place like this. “No explanations are needed. I’ll be back.”

…

He returned with one of the sweets you always picked up whenever you went grocery shopping and a couple of figs for himself. Akutagawa didn’t like sugary things that much, but this fruit he could eat for days. He indeed ate one a day—you were able to observe how long he would be gone on a mission based on how many figs he brought with him.

Akutagawa had brought two today. Was he planning to stay with you overnight? You knew he hated the hospitals—he would never willingly go to one.

Yet here he was, pulling up a chair by your bedside.

“I brought a book,” he said. “Can I read to you?”

“Of course,” you replied. “I didn’t feel like using the TV here anyway, so nothing’s been entertaining.”

The onyx-haired pulled out a book from his coat.

“Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest,” he started.

When Akutagawa was sick, you often read him children’s stories to combat his restlessness. He was calmed by your voice and fell asleep faster than any over-the-counter medication ever worked.

The first time you had found him in the hospital before you were even in a relationship with him, you introduced him to The Little Prince. At first, he scoffed and turned his back the other way, pretending not to listen. But his furrowed brows relaxed, and his frown lifted as you continued with the story—the theme of the openmindedness of children compared to adults, loneliness, love, and loss all gave him something to think about.

Eventually, the book became a source of comfort and light to Akutagawa, and now he had his own copy.

"‘And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.’” By the time Akutagawa had gotten to that part, you had dozed off into a nap.

…

When you finally awoke, the curtains were closed, and the only source of light came from an ambient lamp on the nightstand. And in this night, you also felt a soft pressure on your legs—Akutagawa’s head. He had fallen asleep too, with the book still flipped to a page.

You felt both adoration and woe in your heart. He was sacrificing comfort and possibly his health for you. You desperately felt the need to stroke through his white-tipped raven hair, but you didn’t want to heighten any more chances.

You fell asleep again after minutes of watching your lover’s chest delicately rise and fall, just as he carried his true self without his violent front.

…

Akutagawa stayed until you woke up the following day. He went out to do some errands and then returned with a small gift for you he picked up during the day. That was the routine he followed for the next three days, always content to find you better than the previous day until you were all better.

A nurse came in with a final evaluation and discharged you. You changed into new clothes Akutagawa had brought you before running up and embracing him.

He hugged you back tightly, relieved that you were finally out. He turned to the vase of the pink tulips, which were starting to wither.

“Just in time,” he said.

“The get-well-soon flowers,” you giggled, taking your first good look at them. You loved how he knew of flower symbolism.

“Let’s get out of here,” Akutagawa said, holding out his hand for yours to take. “I despise dwelling in this place any longer.”

SIGMA is worried sick, even though you’re the one sick. how could he not, especially when he isn’t with you? are you feeling alright? drinking enough water? eating well?

“You’re sick?” Sigma asked over the phone.

“Is it my fault? I mean, I was feeling unwell last week, but I got better in a day, so I didn’t think it was that serious…”

“No, it wasn’t; please don’t worry,” you replied. You hated when your lover blamed your problems on himself. “But yeah, it sucks. I even lost my smell! I can’t smell anything.”

“Really?” You sensed his worry through the call.

“Do you need to go to a doctor? I can pick you up and take you there—or I can call the doctor to your house if you’d prefer that-“

“No, it’s okay! It’s not that serious; I’ll be fine in a few days,” you said. “I just wanted to let you know because I won’t be able to see you for a week. But don’t worry about me. I’ll update you.”

“Oh, I see,” Sigma responded. “Alright then.”

Firstly, Sigma was most definitely worried. Secondly, you couldn’t smell? He knew how much you loved the dulcet scents of the desserts he created and the delicate fragrances of your favorite flowers. You must’ve been even a little upset when you realized that sense was gone.

Of course, he wasn’t going to leave you to battle the viruses alone, despite you having just said you didn’t plan to see him until you got better. So, the part lilac, part pearly-haired immediately set out to plan a sweet surprise for you.

…

The next day, Sigma showed up at your front door with a homemade bento box and a few bags of groceries.

“What are you doing here?”

“I at least have to check if you’re eating well.”

One thing that hadn’t changed since meeting Sigma was the butterflies in your stomach feeling. He always showed nothing but ultimate consideration and compassion towards you, treating you like royalty.

“I’m trying,” you replied honestly. “Everything tastes the same. I can’t smell any of it.”

“Maybe it’ll be more appealing if the food looks nice.” With that, he walked to the dining table.

“You haven’t had lunch yet?” You nodded, expectably to him.

“Sit down, love.” He pulled out one of the chairs. You followed him, taking a seat as he prepared your meal—putting a placemat on the table and setting the bento box on top.

You opened the container, and you were revealed with an assortment of the prettiest foods. For the first time this week, you were hungry.

The ones that caught your eye the most were the rice balls decorated to look like chibi versions of you and Sigma. A part of you didn’t want to ruin something so cute.

“What—this is so cute, Sigma! You’re so creative,” you complimented him. “It’s like you cook with magic.”

You noticed Sigma’s cheeks tint a rosy pink. “T-thank you. Go ahead and eat while I prepare your dessert.”

“Dessert?” you asked as you eyed the remaining grocery bags he was holding.

“You’re going to bake here?” You weren’t complaining, but you wondered why he didn’t decide to do it at his place.

“Yeah. That way, it’ll taste the best. Everything tastes the best when it’s freshly baked.”

…

You ended up eating everything. Sigma’s cooking never failed to impress you, even for a previously sated stomach.

“I finished!” you exclaimed, earning a smile from Sigma in the kitchen.

You hadn’t paid attention to what he was making in the meantime. He had put the tray of mystery into the oven a few minutes ago, so you were unable to see what it was.

“It’ll be done in twenty minutes,” Sigma said, walking over to you and taking your hand. “Was it good?”

“Very tasty; I’m full now,” you replied, looking up at him. His ashen eyes shone a gleam of fondness once he made eye contact with you, causing him to fluster again. He was so cute—at times, Sigma still acted like a schoolboy with a crush on you.

“You know your body makes room for dessert,” he noted coyly.

He guided you to stand up, and as you did, a familiar scent softly breezed past you.

The smell of your favorite muffin—and the smell of Sigma’s kitchen. It was faint, but it was there. Your eyes widened in wonder.

“Wait, Sigma—I can smell this!”

Even though it was a bit dramatic, you were cheerful to finally be able to smell any thing after a couple of days. You spun with Sigma around the room in delight. Surrounded by the aroma that made you feel truly at home and the sunrays through the windows, you started to dance together.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, a bit concerned you were spinning around while feeling unwell.

“Yes,” you reassured him, drawing Sigma into an embrace. “I’m just thrilled right now. I think you’re cooking does have magic.”

…

The muffins were out and looked mouthwatering. Sigma took the first one from the tray and peeled down the wrapper.

“First taste is yours,” he said, taking your palm and placing the pastry in your hand.

“Today, I’ll be Sigma’s food critic,” you joked among the two of you. “He’s baked my favorite muffin—I’m rea-ally picky about this dessert, for your information. So I’m going to be really harsh on this review…”

Catching him off guard, you ate the entire sweet in one bite. You started laughing when Sigma abruptly gasped.

“Mm! That was delicious!” you declared, trying to sound like you were trying this for the first time. However, it contradicted the way you were reaching for a second one. Sigma had made this for you hundreds of times before—there was never one time you refused a muffin from him.

“Eleven out of ten!”

“And so are you,” Sigma added, bopping you on the nose. “If my cuisine does involve magic, then I hope that the food works better than medicine.”

bea’s acoustic songs are always so calming & pretty; in my mind, this is what chuuya plays for me. <3

i saw you said you were sick on the dash this month, i’m glad you’re feeling better by now/feel better soon, this is for you <3 @lovedazai @cheriiyaya @chuuyrr @osaemu @atlasnessie

i heard if you rb, your fav will give you get-well kisses until you feel better !! reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most <3

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