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ellemj · 7 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**If you haven't read Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 yet, read those first!**

Summary: You and Bucky give into the chemical that's influencing your bodies in the most hellish way. Round one leaves him planning round two.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, mention of choking, sex pollen (dubcon), possessive!Bucky, minimal use of y/n, teasing, profanity, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.

Word Count: 3.3k

Author's Note: Someone stop me, because I have another few thousand words of smut to add to this but I didn't want to post a whole novel and drive everyone away. Can you blame me though? As soon as the dog tags came into play my mind went rogue. Also, every single one of y'alls comments on part 2 made my whole night. Definitely going to be checking out a lot of y'alls blogs tomorrow. Enjoy this one!

Something dark came over him as soon as your fingertips brushed over his dog tags. Something possessive and primal, something that only partially came from the chemical you were both exposed to. You saw it every bit as much as he felt it within himself, like a switch had been flipped. He couldn’t help himself honestly. If you weren’t going to let him kiss you, the only way he felt like he could pretend you were his was to see you in his dog tags. He wanted to watch you fall apart for him, with his name wrapped around your neck and falling from your parted lips. He would’ve been perfectly satisfied with feeling you fall apart for him as he kissed you, but no, you took that from him.

You fight the urge to push him away as he brings his flesh hand up to the side of your face, cupping the curve of your jaw and looking down into your eyes. Too. Fucking. Intimate. What the hell is he trying to do here? Make love? Fuck fighting the urge, you push him back just like you did in the bathroom doorway, giving yourself enough space to step away from the wall and take a couple of steps into your room. As soon as you’re two steps from him, another stomach cramp hits you like a punch to the gut, and you’re doubling over just past the threshold of the door.

“Stop fucking pushing me away and you won’t have to feel like this.” He spits out, quickly entering the room behind you and pushing your hair to the side to expose the back of your neck to him. He wastes no time in attaching his lips to your skin, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on each raised point of your spine above the collar of your t-shirt. If he can’t kiss your lips, he’ll kiss every other inch of you until you’re begging for him to give you the one thing that you asked him to withhold. Your breath hitches in your throat at the way even just his mouth on your neck makes the cramping in your stomach reside, allowing you to stand straight up once again.

“Do we really need foreplay?” You ask between breaths. You hate how you’re already panting from his actions. You’re sure he can tell how needy you are, even though your words are making it sound like you can’t wait to get this whole thing over with. You’re trying so hard to convince yourself that this is a transaction, a swapping of favors between partners, and absolutely nothing more. You need this to be over with as fast as possible so you don’t have a moment to let yourself believe it’s really happening. You can’t dwell on the fact that you’re about to have sex with the one person that you trust above anyone else, the person that you put your life’s hands in every time you go out in the field. You can’t let your feelings creep into this. You need to hate him more than you’ve ever hated him right now, in this moment.

“I don’t.” Bucky answers your rhetorical question, punctuating his response by grinding his hard-on against your ass, causing your t-shirt to pull up above your ass ever so slightly. He groans when he realizes the only thing between you both is his boxers and your panties. “But I’m not an ass, and we both know that physical touch is what’s helping the pain stop right now.” You want to argue with him but you know he’s right. Every part of you that he touches seems to feel instant relief.

“You’re still an ass.” You retort. He laughs lowly in your ear as his hands find purchase on your hips.

“Keep acting like you don’t need me to fuck the shit out of you and see where that gets you.” Biting your lip proves to be fruitless as you let out the sluttiest moan you’ve ever heard leave your own lips. Who knew dirty talk could be that much of a catalyst for you? Bucky is instantly encouraged by the prettiest sound he has ever heard sneaking past your lips, and he pushes you forward to the foot of the bed. You climb onto the mattress quickly, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer. You’re on autopilot now, moving up to the head of the bed as the mattress dips behind you. “Shirt off, now.”

You’re getting really fucking tired of your body doing things without your permission, just because he gives you a command. You pull your shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor before he’s even fully on the bed. You don’t have time to overthink, to worry about how exposed you are right now, he doesn’t give you a second to form a thought. You feel his flesh hand wrap around your ankle and pull you toward him at the end of the bed until you’re flat on your back and he’s between your legs. Fuck. He’s good at this. He’s too good at this.

“Look at me.” His tone is demanding and surprisingly calm considering his heart is beating out of his damn chest right now. He can hear his own heart beat in his ears and yet, all he can think about is how fucking pretty you look laid out in front of him like this. You watch as he slowly reaches up to his neck. He’s sitting on his knees in front of you, the sweat on his body gleams in the moonlight that streams in from the window across the room, highlighting every ridge and curve of his muscular form. You take your time dragging your eyes up his torso and once your gaze lands on the action of his hands, you swallow hard. He’s staring you right in the eyes, holding your lustful gaze as he lifts his dog tags up over his head and grips them in his flesh palm for a second. He looks down at them briefly, like they have so much meaning to him, before leaning over you and draping them over your head. You lift your neck and hold your hair to the side, allowing him to slide the chain down and rest the tags on your bare chest. He studies the sight before him, frozen in time. You don’t know it, but he’s memorizing the scene before him. Memorizing the way his name looks laying there on the smooth skin between your breasts, memorizing the way the tags shift with every inhale and exhale. Fuck. He’s done for. He shouldn’t have made you wear them. He knows that. But is he really thinking clearly? You’ve both been basically drugged. He can’t be held responsible for the stupid shit that he does now. Not when you’re laying here like this, ready to let him do anything to you. Well, anything except kiss you.

“It hurts…” You whimper, dropping your head back on the pillow and closing your eyes as you wince. The stomach pain is back since he’s stopped touching you, and you’re noticing the wetness in your panties is approaching a near uncomfortable level. You want them off.

“I know, baby, I know.” Bucky murmurs. He lowers himself down, keeping his weight on his arms beside your head. Baby? Fuck, you should have told him that pet names were off limits. As soon as you feel his hard length pressing against your soaked panties, your legs spread all on their own, and he rewards you with a soft kiss to your collarbone.

“Fuck this.” You groan, reaching your hands down and pushing the waistband of your panties down. You only get them down a few inches when Bucky sits back once more, finishing the task for you. He drops them on the floor beside the bed and much to your relief, lays right back over you, sending your core into a frenzy of pleasure when he grinds his clothed cock against your clit. You bend your knees and spread your legs more, giving him all of the access that he needs to practically fuck you through his boxers. And he does just that. He ruts into you, giving your clit just the right amount of pressure and friction. Moans fall freely from your lips now, needy noises mixed with a few profanities and heavy sighs that make Bucky wonder how the hell you’ll sound when he’s actually inside you.

“God, I can’t wait any longer, shit.” He groans. In one swift movement, he pushes himself off of you and stands beside the bed, pushing his boxers down his thighs and letting them fall to his feet as you watch. His cock, freed from the tight fabric it’s been trapped in for far too long now, stands against his lower abdomen, boasting an impressive size and making your mouth water. You have to mentally curse yourself and remind yourself that this is just a means to an end, nothing more. It can’t be anything more. But fuck, if he isn’t the most well-endowed man you’ve ever seen. He feels a surge of pride when he notices the way you’re staring at him, licking your lips and not showing a single ounce of shame. That’s one thing he can thank the super soldier serum for.

“I need you.” You say softly, looking up at him with desperation and lust painted across your features. Your pleading eyes nearly send him over the edge right then. He has to remind himself that you’re in pain, that he’s doing this to help you get through the night. He’s back on top of you in a second, and your legs spread automatically once again, like you’ve been under him a thousand times before and know just what to do. As soon as his tip brushes against the wet folds between your legs, you’re both losing touch with reality. He closes his eyes, stilling above you, forcing you to grind your hips upward in search his dick. “Are you going to make me beg?” You ask innocently, sliding your hands from his waist up to the sides of his neck, hoping the contact will make him look back at you. He opens his eyes slowly and meets your gaze, licking his lips as his eyes dart down to look at your mouth. Don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me.

“No, I don’t think I’d last through a word of that.” Bucky’s admission spurs your hips into action again, but he pulls his away from you. He tsks softly, balancing his weight on his vibranium arm as he uses his flesh hand to pull one of your hands away from his neck, guiding it down to your clit. “You’re going to touch yourself when I tell you to.”

“Fuck, why won’t you just—” Your impatience gains you exactly what you needed. Bucky doesn’t even have to pay attention, he doesn’t have to line himself up with your entrance, he simply snaps his hips down and forward, his cock instantly finding where it belongs and sliding in. You scream out at the unexpected intrusion, the sting of his cock stretching your walls almost more than you can stand. “Oh my fucking god.” You moan, biting down on his shoulder as he stills once again. He’s nice enough to give you a moment to adjust to the few inches he has inside of you before he so much as takes a breath. For a few seconds, every ounce of pain in your entire body is gone. You feel only bliss with him inside of you like this.

“Stop fucking rushing me.” Bucky snaps, taking a deep breath as he fights to contain his own release. You’re so fucking tight, so wet for him. He hasn’t felt ecstasy like this since the first time he ever had a sexual experience, and even that was a muted version of this. It’s taking all of his focus to keep from filling you up with everything he has before he’s even started fucking you. You find yourself smiling, a real genuine smile. Not even solely from the bliss that you feel, but from how fucking funny it is that he looks like he’s losing his virginity right now. The man who’s over a hundred years old, fighting to compose himself so he doesn’t cum too soon. “Is something funny?” He asks, and only then do you realize that he’s staring down at you.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” You tease, letting out a small laugh. The euphoria you’re feeling right now is unmatched. Bucky shakes his head, tsking at you again, before leaning down until his lips are pressed against the shell of your ear, his stubble brushing against your cheek.

“You know, I said I wasn’t going to make you beg for me to fuck you…” Something in his tone sends a chill through your whole body, and the smile falls from your face in an instant. In one swift movement, he snaps his hips forward and buries his entire cock inside of you, his swollen balls pressing up against your ass as he holds his position. You cry out from the mixture of pain and pleasure, seeing stars as your eyes fly shut. “But I didn’t say I wouldn’t make you beg me to stop.” You’re a moaning mess beneath him as he begins to thrust into you at a medium pace, making sure he pulls out nearly completely before thrusting into you again and again. You’re being as vocal as you’ve ever been, but with one key difference between this moment and every other moment that you’ve ever had sex with someone. You’re not saying his name. You won’t let yourself say his name.

“Oh my god, oh my god that feels so good.” You gasp the words out as you fight to maintain control of your breathing. It’s obvious that encouragement does something for him when he picks up speed at your words, setting an unrelenting pace that has you sure you won’t be able to walk in the morning. “Just like that. Holy fuck, that’s it.” He groans and dips his head down, kissing your shoulder and sucking a mark on the smooth skin there. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, heavy breaths and moans filling the room, and the weight of him on top of you has your mind reeling. This has to be enough to abate the chemical compound, it has to be. You haven’t ever felt this kind of pleasure, not a single damn time in your entire life.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight. Rub your clit for me, baby. Touch yourself.” His voice is strained and you can tell he’s holding back. Using the hand that he previously led to your clit, you start rubbing fast circles, matching the pace of his deep thrusts. You can feel your climax rushing to the surface faster than it ever has before, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. “You’re close, aren’t you?” Bucky asks in the most teasing, condescending tone, paying you back for asking that exact question earlier. You moan out a needy yes and he smiles down at you, looking so fucking smug and confident. “Yeah, that’s it baby. You’re gonna cum on my cock while you wear my fucking name, aren’t you?”

“Yes, oh, fuck, yes. I’m so close.” You can’t speak normally anymore, every word that leaves your lips is a sultry moan. Bucky leans back on his knees, his hands gripping your calves and pushing your legs up to rest on his shoulders. “Oh my god.” He thrusts into you hard, the new angle causing you to scream out as his cock brushes against just the right spot. Something about the way you scream for him makes him feral. He reaches a hand toward your neck, and you think he’s going to choke you, but no. He grabs onto the chain that his dog tags hang on and pulls you forward by it, until you’re nearly folded in half. His vibranium hand moves to grip the back of your neck as he fucks his cock into you relentlessly, his head falling back as he edges himself inside you.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/n, I’m gonna cum inside you.” He groans out, his thrusts growing sloppier as he nears his release.

“Please, please fucking cum inside me. Don’t pull out.” You beg, hearing how desperate you sound and not giving a single fuck. Bucky practically whines at the sound of you begging. He never knew how badly he wanted to hear that, and now that he’s heard it, he fears he’ll spend every waking second doing everything he can to hear it again. You can’t help yourself. Tony’s words are still repeating in your head, you know that you need Bucky to cum inside you to have any chance at lasting relief tonight. You need it. “Promise me you won’t pull out.”

“I won’t pull out, Y/n. Fuck, I’m gonna—FUCK.”

“That’s it, don’t fucking stop. Just let go, cum inside me.” You encourage him with every ounce of energy that you have left. You’re thankful for the vibranium hand locked behind your neck as your head falls back.

“Oh, shit baby, I’m cumming. Oh, my fucking…” Bucky cries out, his pace quickening for a few seconds as he pumps his load into you. You feel the hot spurts of cum painting your walls and filling you as full as you’ve ever been. The added pressure inside you mixed with his deep thrusts and your hand working on your clit sends you over the edge right after him, and your pussy clenches on his cock as your orgasm travels through you in waves of pleasure.

“I’m cumming, holy fuck…” Your voice trails off as you temporarily lose touch with reality, your legs shaking and back arching as much as it can in your current position. Bucky holds you on his cock, thrusting into you at the perfect pace to prolong your orgasm. When you open your eyes again, his thrusts are slowing to a stop, and he’s staring down at you, his chest heaving with exertion and his cheeks glowing pink. Neither of you say a word as he lays you back on the bed, slowly pulling his cock out and helping you straighten your legs on the bed. You find yourself playing with his dog tags that are still around your neck, as he collapses on the bed next to you.

“I feel…better.” You admit quietly, noting the distinct lack of pain in your body and the heightened sense of euphoria and fatigue you feel. You see Bucky nodding out of the corner of your eye, but he remains quiet, staring up at the ceiling. “You should sleep here.” You turn on your side to face him, fighting to keep your eyes open after such a powerful orgasm. You can’t even keep yourself awake long enough to find out if he has a response or not. You fall asleep right there next to him, still naked, totally blissful in your fucked out state.

Bucky lies awake for a few more minutes after you’ve crashed. He also feels much better, but conflicted at the same time. You didn’t say his name once. Not one damn time. He was fucking you like your lives depended on it and his name never once left your lips. It shouldn’t matter that much, it’s not like you were making love or something. You were fucking to survive the night. He can’t blame you for maintaining some boundaries, but still. With how fucking perfect you sounded moaning everything else, he would’ve given anything to hear you say his name. Just once. As he drifts off into sleep next to you, he decides that the next time you fuck, he's not letting you cum until you say his name.

Next Part

TAG LIST (I suck at this, some of these tags definitely are not working so I apologize)

@sarcastickiddo @donttalktosposts @marygoddessofmischief @its-daydreamer23 @lightsonnoonehome @gyokujyn @kandis-mom @millercontracting @alicia-bmann @littlemiss-yeehaw @sdddoobydoobydoo @a-rotten-chicken-nugget @browneyedgirl22 @charmedbysarge @i-dont-know-how-to-words @maraaaamartinnnn @hensawweston @traderjoesmints @fictionallyunavailable4ever @black-cat-2 @just-act-natural @phoenixstark1708 @ladyvenera @walkingwithoutreason @bubblevicioussss

#bucky barnes #mcu #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel

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multiverse-sparkles · 1 year

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Your kiss is burning to my skin — S. Rogers and B. Barnes.

summary: steve and bucky break up with you to focus on their relationship. at first, you took the breakup hard. then you took it worse.

pairings: steve x reader x bucky, stucky x reader.

warnings: angst, language, mentions of violence, poly.

chapter one

“it has nothing to do with you, doll.” bucky reiterates, tone mellowing into a small hesitant whisper as he sees you flinch at the endearment. “i mean you were wonderful and so lovely; always understanding us, being the pillar for support and providing us, always with positive reinforcements.” steve squeezes his hand as his form of support, as if willing bucky to take strenght from him to continue his words as he stutters.

the tender moment was not missed by your gaze that were intent on the supersoldiers who sat at the sofa infront of you. the parallels already evident; steve and bucky, leaning to eachother for comfort, sitting in one sofa. the only distance in the room were with you and them; sat in the lone one seater, listening with bated breath to their reasons on why they were breaking your heart.

you could guess several other scenarios happening when you returned from the three week mission requiring radio silence; a breakup was not one of them.

you were happy. the last time you saw either of them, you three went on a romantic date followed by a passionate night spent in eachother's loving arms. the next day was a tearful exchange of goodbye's and unwillingness to part; bucky had almost begged to be included, knowing what the mission entailed. steve inteded to be more diplomatic and barter with tony who refused to budge on his stance.

so with a heavy heart, you departed to cold and frigid terrorist base along with natasha and sam, throwing yourself into your duties in order to come home soonest. even with the support and extensive planning aswell as research, it still took a considerable amount of time.

but not enough for a drastic change of heart— or so you thought.

the steely and determined gaze to steve, the way bucky could look at you in the eyes despite shifting in his seat; they were fucking serious. and intent on expressing their disatisfaction with your current arrangement. one that was implicitly expressed as you trek to your floor, and sat you down after an almost hostile welcome.

“this hurts us more than you.” bucky exhales, looking at steve.

“i doubt it.” the first words you spoke amid all these crazy tirade sounded weak, from disuse and the emotions welling up in your throat. “but please, by all means, don't let me interrupt. why now?”

“we have been talking and spending time with eachother.. unconsciously, we thought about... how we missed it when it was just us.”

you flinch. again. in the field you were almost fearless, and not even a flying knife can make you swerve— you'd catch the weapon whizing to the air with precise movements. turns out, words indeed cut deeper.

but all the more of the implication that it had been them first; and the way it sounded, you were an unwelcomed participant into the special connection they shared.

“but this is not to say we don't value you.” steve intones. “we do. you have to know that. you're special in your own way, but bucky and i have something deeper than just flesh.”

you bite your tongue to refrain from lashing out. as a coping mechanism, you entertain the anger for his fucking audacity. letting the rage simmer under the blank farce you currently wear.

“we just hope, we can focus on eachother more.” steve elaborates, tensing the slightest at your emotionless response. to be frank, both men were ready for a fight, for you to scream and be hysterical. but you were surprisingly calm and collected. which made both uneasy.

“we just want to fall inlove again, without worrying about, others.” he refers you as others now. “could be permanent, could be a thought in passing.” bucky says. “the only thing we're certain about is a break.” he evasively looks away.

“i guess what bucky and i are trying to say is that, we want more from eachother, and there are certain deeper connections that we can't sustain in a three-way relationship.” steve informs you.

“i respect that.” you run your clammy hands on your tactical gear, they couldn't wait until you were dressed and atleast fed before shoving flowery words on your throat. “but if you're breaking up with me, say it bluntly; tell me honestly, tell it in words i understand- you were a good lay but it's actually eachother we love.” you enunciate the word slowly, “and don't delude me with kind words, when i know you're going to dangle the very statements you spewed over my head, most likely in days when you're fucked up or too lonely for eachother. i will not be tripped into your bed ever again.”

you despised the words as soon as they left your mouth; the statements only providing to fuel your deepest insecurity. and it was unfair to both of them, you knew it was.

steve and bucky looked visibly wretched by your words, yet you ignore it, telling yourself to get used to not caring about either of them.

“doll”

“darling”

“don't fucking call me that.” you hiss, both men still in their seat. “we're done.” gathering whatever was left of your dignity, you trudge to the doors and out of their lives.

the door closed behind you, your own apartment looking stale as opposed to the home you have built with steve and bucky; you barely stayed here anyways, but kept it for storage reasons. it still had stark's touch, feeling more like a hotel penthouse, appearing cold and detatched.

you slide down against the door weakly, losing the false bravado infront of your ex lovers. as if a child, you hug your knees to your chest, sobbing into it unbashedly.

three years all down the drain. and they talked about it as if it were a skin deep connection, downplaying every single moment; in tenderness, in affection, in tears and the joy.

you didn't lie down with them in their bed as an extension, as a woman that can be tossed in passing.

you didn't hold them gently in your arms, and provided the warmth the world has chosen to keep from them just to be a stranger.

you didn't whisper words of comfort in their ears, in the middle of the night when the nightmares became too much to handle, just to be someone shallow and unimportant in their lives.

most importantly, you didn't love them to be hurt like this.

the pain cuts deep in your heart, like a throbbing wound, one you feel physically; one that leaves you gasping for breath, a hand held above your heart, feeling as if you could die. your chest tight, your throat welling up, you struggle to remain above ground, eyes darting around the room to keep in the moment- fuck, you were having a panic attack.

you despised when that happens. hated the sheer fact that you would allow yourself to be vulnerable when there were things that needed to be done; people that need saving, reports to be made, meetings to attend. you led a remotely chaotic life and the only thing that truly anchored you in here, to the now, turned their backs to you.

they no longer want you.

you swallowed heavily, arms instinctively hugging yourself, eyes squinting in an an attempt at concentration; color, you looked at your surroundings, dizzily naming the grey of your couch, the ivory white lamp, the silver and gold of the chandelier. your forehead was beaded with perspiration, breath coming out in shorts despite your attempts at distracting yourself.

“agent y/n, your blood pressure is fluctuating; your heart rate is abnormal which can cause the brain and other ogans to become oxygen deprived. i concluded a physical scan and deduced your emotional distress," FRIDAY “i'm at liberty to ask if i should call captain rogers and sergeant barnes, as they are—”

“no!” you managed to shout between strangled breaths, patting your chest methodolically hoping whatever it was, seemingly dislodged into your airways be cleared.

“agent y/n, in accordance to the tower's protoccol, i am hardwired to inform your immediate contacts of your current state of distress.” her posh voice inserts. and despite yourself, you groan.

“i'm peachy, fri.” you lean your head back to the door, closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing. slowly, you were able to calm down enough, “it's probably the best time to change those emergency contacts, aswell. while you're at it, remove the captain and sergeant's access to this floor; both physically and even in information.”

“ofcourse, agent y/n. please state your official badge number and code.” when you answer her, FRIDAY appears to repeat your command before doing what was asked.

“i also elected the sensible decision of reinstating agent romanov as your primary emergency contact. that being said, ms. romanov is on the way to your floor.” FRIDAY disappears before you can scold her, which made you truly contemplate wether she was conscious and, in all actuality sensitive to human emotions.

perhaps, she does have an inkling of human relationships and intense emotions, but that was no longer your concern; considering you have a black widow shaped problem coming your way. and natasha romanov was nothing, if not immensely stubborn and perpetually perceptive. you were several times screwed over.

however, as she appeared in your doorway, the waterworks resumed ten times over, and you were sobbing pathetically in the red head's arms, lamenting your broken heart.

you couldn't remember for how long you've stayed immobile in your room, but it had been several days; perhaps a week or two that you cried your heart out, barely consuming meals unless for sustenance. that in itself seemed like a chore for your aching muscle, your tired and weary bones protesting with every single movements.

this morning though... this morning, it was sunny and bright. you'd opened the curtains with much effort, peering into the bustling city; the skyline providing you with displaced warmth. a few years ago, you'd only ever dreamt about being in new york; and you've lived it. becoming an avenger was also a dream you've worked hard in achieving, and here you are, fighting alongside the heroic and brave on normal tuesdays.

should you allow yourself to wither away in a dark room, heart terribly battered and bruised when the world was set for conquering? well, perhaps it would be insensitive to use the c word; cringing to yourself upon the remembrance of several otherplanetary creatures wreaking havoc on your home planet, like it were a free for all.

you enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your skin for a few moments, allowing yourself to finally, breathe. you bask in the first time upon weeks that you thought positively for a change; so wreaked from questioning every single thing wrong about you.

for the first time in many days, you took the longest shower in history, setting the temperature just a touch scalding. you cleaned your room, changed the sheets, and donned yourself in a decent jeans and a t-shirt combo. grabbing your purse, and stuffing your phone, wallet and keys along with you, you departed from your room.

on the way to the garage, you texted both wanda and natasha; who have been at your side with the outmost vigor, crying and cursing both the supersoldiers as you wept from your broken heart.

you: mall and galiani's at the grove? :)

wands: yes!! meet you there <3

natty: otw in my sensible shoes.

you smiled softly, thankful for your friends. it may have spread like wildfire among your colleagues in the tower, and the magic six may have taken sides and pointed fingers; but amongst all the drama, you were glad that you had people to count on.

it may take a while for you to feel like yourself again... but you were willing to make it work.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #stucky x reader #stucky x y/n #stucky x you #stucky

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mm-lurking · 4 months

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Why do you care? - Blade

Perhaps you should have thought twice before deciding to take on a powerful enemy at night or perhaps you shouldn’t have, if it means you get a certain someone to care about you.

I wrote this at 11 pm sleep deprived and out of my mind for like many nights straight please forgive me in advance for the grammar etc English is like my 4th language thank you WC: 3440 words Warnings: none just angst, fluff, some description of blood and wounds and me being a simp —

Your blade clashes with the Antimatter Legion creature’s weapon continuously leaving no room for you to think or even plan an escape. With each strike you find yourself feeling weaker and wobbly, as if the enemy were quite literally taking your strength away. The large wound on your back stings and burns and you can feel blood dripping down your ripped shirt, soaking into your pants and splattering on the floor. If it weren’t for the stupid enemy ambushing you and leaving you with a slash on your back, you would have already beaten the crap out of it and gone home for a good night’s sleep.

But no, here you were struggling even to cause reasonable damage that allowed you to deliver the final blow or at least escape. Your movements were getting more fast-paced and aggressive out of frustration which caught the enemy off guard. When will this end?!? With one last ounce of energy you had left in you, you gritted your teeth and struck the creature in the chest, delivering a reasonable blow and causing it to retreat.

“Ha…huff…”

The adrenaline from the fight started to wear out and it didn’t take long before you fell on your hands and knees, clutching your shirt and trying to breathe. You did not have the energy to sit upright, let alone walk back to your residence. Unfortunately for you, the loss of blood caught on quickly. Before you could even formulate a plan your body gave way and you went crashing on the stone pavement head first, with the wound on your back feeling more uncomfortable as the cold winds of the night caressed your back. That’s all you remembered before everything turned black.

- How tardy, Blade tsked as he leaned against the front wall of your residence, waiting impatiently by the door. He had checked the time thrice already in the past ten minutes. As requested by Kafka, you were supposed to meet him at your residence to discuss some business. Why the hell did Kafka choose me for this? he thought to himself, what a waste of my time to associate with someone like her. Yet, despite his annoyance he still waited and waited until his frustration got the better of him.

Glaring at your front door, he walked off. He would let Kafka know later that you weren’t there for whatever reason and ask her to stop sending him to you every time. For some reason no matter how many times he told Kafka he didn’t want to see you, she would still find a way to send him to you. Was it because of some sort of mutual agreement between you and Kafka? Who knows. He didn’t care and nor did he want to. He just wanted to be left alone.

The path he took back home required him to cross the very street you were unconscious on. Of course, he didn’t know that. Blade was walking at his usual pace when he spotted a figure in the distance in the middle of the street, one that looked awfully similar to yours. He tsked again and shook his head. I must be seeing things. Yet as he continued walking, this lingering feeling he had about you continued to pester him and fully manifested when he approached the figure and realised-

“…!”

-it was you. His eyes widened momentarily and his breath hitched as he examined your state, trying to make sense of what had happened to you. There was blood everywhere around you; pools of it that were semi-dried and half-fresh. Your hair was all over the place with most of it soaked in blood from your injuries. And that gash on your back; the way your flesh was practically visible all the way down to the innermost layers of your muscle, the bruises that had started to form around your wound, the scratches and marks on your hands and arms, all of it, every single inch of your injury caused unfamiliar emotions to stir in his heart. It made his blood boil stronger and stronger. In a split second, he knelt by your side, uncaring how your blood soaked into his pants or how he was dirtying his clothes from the pavement dirt.

He gently flipped you over and the sight of your pale face made his heart drop for a moment. There was no sign of life on your face, you looked concerningly peaceful and your forehead had bruised from crashing into the pavement. If it weren't for more fresh blood gushing down his fingers from holding your back, he would have thought he lost you. Blade was no stranger to injuries and wounds. Blood and bruises were a normal day occurrence to him, they were his companion through this cursed immortal life of his. Yet, when it came to you, seeing you in such a state scared him, an emotion he seldom felt. He didn’t care if he was the one to get hurt but if it was you, he couldn’t stand it. He wouldn’t stand it.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he carefully put his arms behind your knees and neck to avoid touching your back before picking you up and walking hastily to the hideout the Stelleron hunters were residing in. Was he a wanted criminal? Yes, but he didn’t care. All that mattered right now was you and your well-being. The door opened with a loud bang and he walked in holding your limp body, his eyes searching everywhere to find a suitable location to tend to your injuries.

“Bladie there you are. How was-”

Kafka stopped talking mid-speech as she noticed Blade and the distressed condition he was in. She stared at the familiar body he was holding and remained speechless before running off to get medical supplies they had lying around for Blade’s mara-struck symptoms. He quickly laid you on your side in his lap and proceeded to build a makeshift bed using blankets and pillows so he could finally tend to your injuries. Kafka returned with supplies in her hands, still confused and flabbergasted at what had occurred and why Blade cared in the first place.

“What happened to her?”

“...”

He said nothing and immediately started to perform first-aid, first gently pushing the torn shirt off your back and brushing your hair aside. Despite his hands being gloved and bandaged, he felt tingles in his fingers as he grazed your skin. Destruction was what he was skilled at yet the way he handled you was gentle and soft, afraid that he would hurt you, as if you were made out of porcelain. He worked skillfully and swiftly on your gash, cleaning and stitching it all up to the best of his abilities before turning to the smaller injuries you had on your arms. By the time he was done with just your back, the moon shone at the highest point of the sky, indicating how long it had taken for him.

But he didn’t care as he looked out the window and then back at you. The moonlight basked your figure in a gentle glow and he found his heart oddly skipping a beat as he stared. Your weak breathing was enough to console him, enough to let him know you were at least alive. Subconsciously he found himself reaching out to caress your cheek, softly tracing over your skin as he watched you for a moment. What was it about you that he couldn’t get enough of? Why was he so persistent in pushing you away while simultaneously wanting your company? Why did he-

“I will call one of her friends over tomorrow to take her to the nearest infirmary.”

Kafka voiced out breaking his line of thoughts. He quickly retracted his fingers and cleared his throat as he worked on your forehead bruise. The woman chuckled and shook her head, smiling slightly. Was this all part of Elio’s plan? Who knows.

“She should be awake in the morning.”

He stated calmly but the burning gaze in his eyes betrayed him. Judging by the severity of your wounds, he wasn’t even sure if you would make it out the night. Kafka said nothing and silence fell once again.

“You should rest Bladie.”

“No need.”

“I can look after her.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

The woman smiled once again and shook her head.

“Alright if you say so. If you need me I will be in the other room. Silverwolf has brought back some interesting information for me to sift through.”

She waved her hand around and left the room leaving Blade alone with you. As he finished putting the last bandage on you, he pulled you closer on his lap, gently placing an arm on your waist to keep you from slipping before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

The image of you lying in your own blood flashed through his head again and his eyebrows furrowed. What if he had never come to save you? What if he had left through some other street and never saw you? The idea of him not seeing you alive again tomorrow, the idea of you no longer coming to meet with Kafka, the idea of you no longer looking in his direction…all of it caused a pang in his heart. It was a strange sensation that he didn’t understand and a feeling he couldn’t quite fathom. The grip on your waist tightened as opened his eyes to look at you. You looked so peaceful and content, almost like you hadn’t been gravely injured at all, like you hadn’t nearly bled to death.

As much as he wanted to remain in this position and watch over you, he had to get medicine for your injuries. He reluctantly placed you on the makeshift bed and placed pillows around to prop you up before getting up to go find some.

—

A wave of sharp pain surges through your body prompting your consciousness to start awakening. The pain combined with your tired body creates an uncomfortable feeling in you and with each ripple of pain, you find yourself awakening slowly but surely, like a diver trying to reach the water’s surface to break out.

“Hngh…”

A groan slips out from your mouth as you slowly open your eyes. As you adjust to your surroundings in confusion, the pain of your back wound comes back in full effect causing you to cry out loud. It burns, stings and aches all at once and the threshold is way beyond your bearable pain level. You try to move around but no position eases your suffering and so ultimately you try to sit upright, struggling as tears run down your face. Footsteps quickly approach you and before you can wrap your head around who it is, the figure hurriedly sits down with a bottle in his hand, concern written all over his face as he tries to get you to lie down.

“Bl-blade?”

You say through your tears, choking as you struggle to breathe. You refuse to lay down and uncomfortably shuffle around trying to even get an ounce of relief. Your mind is blurry and confused as you attempt to recall what had happened and what is currently going on.

“You’re hurt.”

He watches as you stare at him through the tears in your eyes and something about that causes those unfamiliar emotions from earlier to stir in his heart again. You shake your head groaning and seething in pain as you attempt to talk.

“Why are you- what-“

“Drink.”

He doesn’t give you an answer and instead supports your neck with one hand as he brings the bottle closer to your face with his other one. You scrunch your face and move away which causes him to frown.

“Foolish. You’re injured. Drink it unless you want to continue withering in pain.”

His voice is sharp and low which causes you to flinch and agree to his request. He brings the bottle up to your lips and you look at him as you take sips. To his surprise, you don’t hesitate to drink down the bitter herbal medicine and finish it in one go. The concoction seems to take immediate effect and you sigh from having temporary relief.

You look back at the man who's holding you up. The tears on your cheeks have dried and you notice he’s still looking at you. There is no emotion on his face yet somehow you can tell he’s concerned and watching out for anything that might happen.

“Blade…why…why do you care?”

There is a small smile on your weary face as you speak. You’re delirious, he notes, seeing how your eyes keep shutting close and how your body seems unable to support itself up. He doesn’t reply to you as usual and stares at you silently.

“I know you hate me…you don’t even like being around me, I know you hate meeting me, if it weren’t for Kafka you wouldn’t even look in my direction…”

You close your eyes and look down as you feel the tears starting to form and run down your face again. At this rate you weren’t sure what was hurting more, the gash on your back or the pain in your heart. You were spilling everything that had been on your mind since the beginning of it all when you first started falling for him. On a normal day, you would never speak your thoughts out like this but nothing about today was normal, was it? What you don’t notice is the tiny frown that has formed on Blade’s face as you speak. You draw a shaky breath as you continue.

“Why did you save me…? You should have left me alone…at least that way you would never see me again and that would make you happy I know-“

“I suggest you shut it.”

You look up as he cuts you off. There is a strange expression on his face consisting of annoyance and anger. He grits his teeth as he holds himself back from saying more. But you being you, you shake your head and continue, the tears now splattering on the blankets lying on the floor as your emotions come out in full force.

“Where are we? Is Kafka here...? I can let her know that she no longer needs to send you to meet me…I’m sure she will understand-“

“I said shut it.”

His voice drops down an octave and you feel fear creep up your spine. Afraid, you drop your head again but you can guess that his crimson eyes are probably aflame right now based on your previous observations. Do you listen? No.

“You don’t have to do this…if Kafka is making you do this you can go now it’s ok-“

“Have you always been this insufferable?!”

The sharpness in his voice and the tightening grip on your neck make you flinch in fear. He quickly lets go when he realises he’s hurting you and exhales. You remain staring at the ground, afraid to look up at his face. Unfortunately, before you can reply to him, the gash on your back starts to hurt again and you tremble, frowning as the pain sharpens.

“What’s wrong?”

There is a hint of panic in his voice as you squirm. Your knuckles turn white from the way you hold onto the blanket and your arms feel weak. Everything turns hazy again and nausea kicks in. A dull throb starts to pound in your head causing a groan to slip from your mouth.

“Y/N.”

He calls your name out as he gently lifts your chin. His frown deepens seeing the pain all over your face. Beads of cold sweat form on the side of your forehead and he notices you’re struggling to breathe again.

“It hurts Blade…it hurts…”

You say softly as your eyes blur again. The endless tears you have shed today in front of him shatter his heart. With each tear that streams down your face, he finds himself in agony, wishing it was him that was hurting instead, wishing that the pain you were dealing with were his to bear. But no, there is nothing he can do except watch you wither from your wounds. He reaches out to cup your face, slowly wiping the tears away with one hand while the other supports your shoulder. You shiver a little from the contact nevertheless welcome it. His touch is unfamiliar yet so soothing on your bare skin.

“Did the medicine wear off?”

You slowly nod yes and he sighs. Your injuries are severe after all, no wonder the concoction didn’t last long. It is a miracle that you are still breathing and conscious after such an event. He looks behind you at the faint glimmers of moonlight. Judging by the dimming rays, it should be dawn soon, he notes.

“Bear it for a little longer, Kafka will have a friend of yours escort you to a nearby infirmary soon.”

To his surprise, you shake your head and lean into the palm of his hand. He freezes momentarily but doesn’t push you away.

“I..remain with me..a little longer..please..?”

Your voice is shaky and barely audible as you make your request. Your puffy eyes flutter close preventing you from seeing how his expression softens a bit and the small smile that forms on his face. He gently pushes you towards him, causing you to lean into his body. You don’t deny the silent invitation and rest your head in the crook of his neck, a tiny smile forming on your face as you inhale his sweet metallic scent. His heartbeat is irregular and louder than usual from how your breath tickles his neck but you are too lightheaded to notice. His hand now rests at the base of your head while the other one lies loosely on your waist, gently caressing you in an attempt to ease your pain. You still squirm and twitch every now and then but it does not bother him, for right now all he cares about making you feel as comfortable as possible.

“I don’t hate you.”

He mutters under his breath. You’re barely conscious so he can say whatever he wants right? Not that you will really remember any of this.

“Hate…is not a word I would use on you.”

He glances at you. Your back rises and falls slowly from your breathing. He takes a look at your injured back once again and clenches his jaw. The bandages he had wrapped around you were starting to become bloody again.

“You perplex me. Yet your outlandish behaviour is so amusing. I cannot stay away from you.”

The fingers around your waist tighten as his grip becomes more firm. You shudder a bit at his action but say nothing. Not that you are in your right mind anyway, everything he says feels like a fever dream, a faraway voice talking to you.

“I prefer having you around. Your company delights me.”

He continues on as he strokes the back of your neck and you hum in content. You fit so perfectly against the palm of his hands and the crook of his neck, almost as if you were meant to be his. Meant to be his companion.

“You asked why I care…I care because I want you around.”

He leans into your head making sure to avoid the bruise on your forehead. Your hair tickles his face and the faint scent of your shampoo pleasantly occupies his senses. You’ve managed to fall asleep now from the low rumbling of his voice and the warmth his body radiates. A quiet chuckle leaves his lips as he realises this and the unyielding grip he has on you doubles.

“If you were to get hurt again…”

He murmurs inaudibly as he gazes in the distance. No, he would never allow you to be hurt again. He wouldn’t let such an opportunity arise in the first place. And if some lowly fool even dared to lay their hands on you…they would be a dead man walking. Once you got better and your wounds healed completely, he would make sure to protect you from any harm to the best of his abilities. But for now…

He looks at you again, his eyes burning with concern and a tinge of malevolence. No one could take you away from him. When the time was right and he was certain, he would make you his. For now, you resting contently in his arms, breathing softly in the safety of his protection should suffice. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

#honkai star rail #blade x reader #hsr x reader #blade hsr #hsr blade #blade x you #blade honkai #blade angst #blade fluff #enemies to lovers #stellaron hunters #tsundere #yingxing #hsr angst #hsr #star rail #hsr fluff

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Come back to you

Bucky x pregnant!reader

What happens when a time travel mission ends up with a version of Bucky from the 40′s standing on the time travel platform.

Warnings: FLUFFFFF, sweet charming 40′s Bucky, time travel, teensiest bit of angst.

“Buck, are you sure about this” You shuffled nervously by the platform Bucky was standing on, his latest mission requiring him to travel through a time portal. It wasn’t something he hadn’t done before but time travel was still tricky and the last thing you wanted was something happening to Bucky.

Especially now.

“I’ll be fine doll” Bucky assured you, holding onto a device Tony had made to gather information, the time stamp on the portal set to 1943. All he had to do was locate the coordinates he was given, scan a few documents and return to the present. Ever since you found out you were pregnant, Bucky pulled himself out of high risk missions but this seemed easy enough and he was the only one familiar with the location. “Promise I’ll come right back to you in just a few seconds babygirl”

He gave you a wink, kissing your cheek before nodding to Bruce who was by the machine console, rechecking the timestamps and settings so all Bucky had to do was press a button on his suit when he was ready to come back. You held your breath, standing back while the platform lit to life, a flash of white nearly making Bucky disappear instantly. While the mission could feel like minutes to hours for him, it would be mere seconds for you.

You fidgeted with your fingers while Steve monitored Bucky’s tracker, getting the platform ready for him to return. You nearly let out the breath you were holding, seeing a green light indicate Bucky had pressed the button to return and you’d have him back in your arms again.

“Alright, the portal is stable, he’ll be back in 5...4...3...2...1″

The bright light flashed again, the super soldier standing right where he’d left, not a hair out of place. Bucky blinked, looking down at his suit, frozen on the spot before looking to his best friend, the only person he seemed to recognize in the room.

“St-Steve?”

“Buck” Steve’s brows furrowed noting the way Bucky’s eyes darted around the room with a confused look on his face.

“Where-where am I?” Bucky whipped his head around, before looking to his best friend again for answers. “What am I wearing?” He looked down at his hands, eyes growing wide when he saw his metal one, flexing his vibranium digits. “My arm?”

He looked like a lost puppy, unable to move from where he was standing, nearly pinching himself because he had to be dreaming. “What’s going on punk, where am I, why-why does everything look so different, where are we?”

You felt sick to your stomach as your husband looked at you for not more than a second having no idea who you were, having no idea where he was himself. He tugged at the sleek material of the tac suit with an expression of fascination and horror, his flesh hand tracing over the metal one.

“Steve, whats going on?” You looked over to him, blinking back tears, already feeling panic rise in your chest, desperately hoping the time travel made Bucky a little delirious, something a bit of rest would fix. Steve swallowed thickly, slowly approaching Bucky, something telling him the confusion was more complex than just being shaken from time travel.

“What year is it, Buck”

Bucky looked at Steve with furrowed brows but answered anyway.

“1943″

“Your full title?”

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th” He replied with confidence, not a hint of humor in his voice. He stood with the confidence of a soldier, shoulders rolled back, with a strong stance. Steve nodded while Bruce immediately started to fiddle with the portal, understanding the mission had altered something in Bucky. The Bucky that stood before everyone was physically from the present but his mind was from the 40′s.

“Just give me a sec Buck, I’ll be with you in a minute” Steve keep his voice light, not wanting to worry his bestfriend further. He took away the device Bucky was holding, leading him to stand away from the platform while he gently led you away to speak with Bruce. “Banner, what the hell”

“His departure was fine but there must have been a glitch with the portal coming back. When Barnes travelled back, something warped with his memories; right now he’s Bucky from 1943. He doesn’t have any recollection of anything after that” Bruce continued to press at buttons while carefully watching Bucky walk around the lab, his face softening in sympathy.

Bucky eyes held child like wonder, staring at the high ceilings and vast technology he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. He found himself wandering around the room, waiting for his bestfriend to tell him what was going on, distracting himself with science in the mean time.

He always loved science.

Tony and Sam joined the lab after a few frantic text messages; Tony joining Bruce in trying to figure out what went wrong whereas Sam had come to check on you and make sure you were okay. Sam sat down with you, gently squeezing your hand in his, not wanting stress to end up hurting you or the pregnancy.

“He doesn’t remember me” You blinked back tears, your hand coming up to rest on your swollen belly, watching Bucky stare at the other creations Tony had lying around on the tables, in his own little world of fascination and utter confusion.

“Look, we’re gonna get him back. Remember when Scott returned as a baby and then an old man 10 seconds later and he wasn’t sure which version of himself shit his pants?” He gave you a comforting smile, taking you put of the lab to rest while Steve made his way over to Bucky. “C’mon mama, terminator would wage war on all of us if we didn’t take care of you. He’s gonna be okay, he’d want you to be taking care of yourself first”

Steve kept Bucky occupied for the time being, not wanting to confuse him with too much, only explaining a few things to him such as the metal arm. Bucky understood bits and pieces, such as something about time travel, war and something else about a mad scientist. Any details about you were left out, not wanting to complicate things further.

Over the next few days, Bucky was learning to adjust to the modern world all over again, staying in Steve’s room while Tony and Bruce worked on resetting the portal. You kept your distance from him, going about your routine as best as you could along with a sadness pulling at your heart when you didn’t have him by your side.

The bed was too cold.

It wasn’t comfortable when he wasn’t there to be your human body pillow.

He wasn’t there to cuddle up with when you were feeling needy.

He wasn’t immediately by your side with chamomile tea that soothed any nausea you felt, always knowing when you needed some without you saying anything.

He wasn’t there with his warm and cool hands to sooth the kicks that nudged in your belly; your Bucky would always have his hands on you, obsessed with his pretty angel all full of him.

Now you had to wait.

But even Bucky from 1943 couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Whose that?” Bucky pointed over at you, having noticed that you spent a lot of time alone, no partner by your side though you were clearly very pregnant and nearing your due date. You had come to the kitchen to make some tea, not realizing both super soldiers were grabbing a snack after a morning run, deciding to continue with what you were doing instead of leaving abruptly. Steve glanced over to where Bucky was looking at, his eyes growing wide noticing the concerned look on his best friends face.

“This is y/n” Steve nodded for you to come over, letting his hand rest on your back to give you some support while Bucky gave you a boyish smile. “Y/n, this is my best friend, the very James Buchanan Barnes, the same punk I’ve told you a lot about”

“You can just call me Bucky”

“Nice to meet you” You gave him a soft smile, returning his charming one, feeling butterflies all over again just like the first time you had met him. Your cheeks grew warm when he gave you his hand, immediately asking if you needed help with anything else.

“You need us to get you anything, doll? Why don’t you go rest in the living room, I can bring this to you once the waters boiled” He sent you away so you could get off your feet, watching you with heart eyes as you waddled away out of the kitchen. He then shook his head, remembering that you probably had a husband and it wasn’t right for him to look at you that way.

Steve shook his head at Bucky’s antics as the brunette grabbed a bag of chamomile tea before pouring the water in and checking the temperature before bringing it over to you. He didn’t linger around too much, wanting to be respectful, letting you relax while he made his way back to Steve.

However, each day his curiosity only grew. Between passing good mornings and shy smiles, he couldn’t help but wonder why no one ever mentioned anything about your partner or spouse. It had been nearly 3 weeks and you were always alone. He wasn’t one to pry and he definitely didn’t want to come off as nosy or seem like he wanted to know your business.

Still.

He didn’t like that he hadn’t seen anyone by your side the whole time.

12:45 AM

Bucky’s ears perked up when he heard soft footsteps padding towards the kitchen, setting down the book he was reading to find your tired face, your hand resting on your baby bump. He felt something tug at his heart seeing sleep still etched on your face, hair still tousled, your other hand supporting your back. He sprung to his feet, leading you to sit down before you could say anything, crouching down while keeping your hand in his.

“What do you need doll, should I get some water started?” He gave you a gentle squeeze when you nodded, hearing the faint rumble of your tummy, “Maybe a snack too” He grinned, getting up and filling a kettle and rummaging through the fridge to cut up some fruit, adding a double chocolate cookie on the side.

“There ya go, can’t have you goin’ back to be hungry” He gave you a wink, sitting down beside you with his own mug.

“Thank you, Bucky” You couldn’t help but giggle at the cookie he proudly added to your plate.

“You don’t have to thank me sweets, I’m happy to help” Bucky insisted, pleased to see you munch on the fruit with a satisfied hum, chuckling when your eyes rolled back as you sunk your teeth into the cookie. “Can’t have you doin’ all this by yourself”

“Well, I’m not by myself when you’re around” You gave him a light hearted smile, wishing you could slink into his arms and feel him wrap you up, blinking back tears that stung your eyes.

“You’re doin’ this alone?” Bucky looked at you with wide eyes, shock evident in his voice, a sliver of anger slipping through. How could anyone abandon someone as sweet as you, especially when you were carrying their child.

“I-um-sort of-” You nodded, hoping to keep your emotions at bay, swallowing the lump in your throat.

No.

You’re right here.

But you’re so far away

Your mind was screaming but there was nothing else you could say, taking a sip of your tea to keep yourself from sniffling.

“I’m sorry sweets, bet you’re real strong though. Always smilin’ like sunshine” Bucky sat closer to you, resting his hand on top of yours, holding it softly. He gave you one of his classic dashing smiles, washing up your cup and plate before walking you back up stairs and wishing you a good night. You snuggled up in your sheets with a content sigh; whether it was Bucky from the 40′s or Bucky from today, both were still sweet and protective as ever.

You made your way downstairs with your shopping list in hand, growing fed up with the lack of potato chips in the cupboards and still needing to get baby supplied with your due date growing even closer. You slipped on a comfy sun dress, stepping into the elevator and passing through the common room. You paused at the sight of your Bucky, his nose tucked in a book again, the sunlight from the ceiling high windows making his skin glow. You adored the slight scrunch of his nose as his eyes flicked over the words, heavily engrossed in another sci-fi novel, his favorite thing to read after raiding Steve’s library.

“Good morning’ doll” He peeked up from his book, giving you a bright smile, noting you were dressed to go out, “goin’ somewhere?”

“Just going to get some fresh air, stop by the store for some things I need”

“Is anyone going with you?” Bucky set down his book, looking over his shoulder to see if someone was going to accompany you, frowning when he saw there was no one else.

“I’ll be fine Bucky, really-”

“Not a chance, my ma would have my head if I just let you go out alone, especially right now” Bucky shook his head, shoving a bookmark between the pages and setting it on the coffee table. “Pretty dame like you shouldn’t be going out alone. Steve can grab what you need from the store, just give him the list. I’ll take you out for a walk"

Bucky kept his hand gently at the small of your back, the other holding your hand as you both walked though the park, keeping his eyes trained everywhere, making sure you were safe.

“Are you feelin’ alright?” He asked, always pausing incase you felt tired, concerned etched on his face whenever you huffed, firming his grip around you. “Let’s get you home sweets”

As you both walked back home, you missed your Bucky even more, a part of you enjoying spending time with the sweet care free man from the 40′s, another part of you desperately missing your husband. Once you got back, Tony was waiting for you, taking you over to the lab where Bruce was still tinkering away, both men looking exhausted from endless nights of no sleep.

“Good news, we’re almost ready, should be good to go in just a few days” Tony smiled, noting your face fall ever so slightly, your heart jumping because you’d finally get Bucky back but you’d miss the young soldier version of him.

“You’re gonna miss pre-grumpy terminator, huh” Tony chuckled, while you playfully rolled your eyes, waddling back to the kitchen, following the scent of something sweet that caught your attention. You smiled at the sight of Bucky moving gracefully around the kitchen, every so often asking FRIDAY questions, his eyes lighting up with joy each time the AI answered. You didn’t want to disturb him, quietly entering until you felt a strong kick to your side.

“Oof-”

Bucky looked up to see your face scrunch, dropping the spoon he was holding and making his way to you.

“Doll? What’s wrong, are you okay?”

“They’re kicking” You smiled, resting your hands over your tummy, trying to soothe the movement but to no avail. They only responded to their daddy.

“They?” Bucky’s eyes grew wide, taking in what you just said while you nodded, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your belly where the babies fluttered, their little feet pressing against your skin.

“Two baby boys”

“S’like you got me and Stevie in there” Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparking in awe feeling the movement in your belly, “Causin’ a ruckus for their ma. Can I get somethin’ for ya?” He gave you a boyish smile, ushering you to sit down.

“They seem to respond to you” You hummed, feeling your little ones settle after Bucky’s hands rested on your stomach, something that seemed to soothe all three of you. “Sometimes they only rest when I walk around, tire all of us out”

Bucky thought for a moment, his face glowing when an idea popped into his head.

“Steve just showed me how to work this, not that it makes much sense” Bucky fidgeted with his phone for a bit, his tongue sticking out with his focus. He pulled up a playlist of 40′s music, picking something slow before setting the phone down and helping you back on your feet, “Maybe this will help”

“What are you doing Bucky” You giggled as Bucky took your hand in his and twirled you towards him, your hands resting on his chest. He kept his hands around your baby bump, rubbing soft circles on your sensitive skin, dancing with you in the kitchen.

“I’ll be gentle” he started to sway with you, humming along to the soft music, “Can’t have those little punks tiring you out, mama” You allowed yourself to melt into his touch, turning your body to the side so you could rest your head against his chest, hearing the same steady beat of his heart that grounded you. You nearly fell asleep with the way he held you, keeping you and your babies safe, his soft scent surrounding you, every muscle in your body relaxing.

“C’mon, I’ll take you up to bed” He whispered when he noticed your eyelids grow heavy, a small yawn slipping past your lips the more you snuggled into his arms. He pushed away the thought of scooping you up into his arms, not wanting to over step his boundaries, holding you close to his side instead as you made your way up the elevator.

“Thank you for that dance, soldier” You gave him a shy smile while he stood by your door, every part of him wanting to hold you for longer.

“You’re a real charmer, sweets” Bucky blushed, his hands still resting on your baby bump, “I’m tellin’ ya, if you were mine...” He caught himself before speaking to much, his cheeks turning peachier.

It was evident things were different in the future.

If he had met you just like this in the 40′s, he would have stepped up and been by your side. Of course, he’d ask you to marry him, have Steve as his best man. He would have wanted to be your man, a good husband to you and a father to your babies if you’d let him. He indulged in his fantasy for a little longer, thinking about the two little boys he’d be happy to call his and perhaps having a baby girl later on.

“What if I was yours” you gazed up at him while he gave you a signature flirty smirk, bright blues twinkling.

“You’d be my darlin’, my sugar” Bucky pressed an innocent kiss to your cheek, blushing more himself when you giggled, returning his kiss to the dimple on his chin.

“Maybe one day, solider”

“I’d like that, babydoll”

You held your breath watching Bucky step on the platform again, repeating back all the instructions Steve had given him, still a little confused about time travel but trusting anything his best friend said.

“Push this button when you get to these coordinates and you’ll come right back” Steve assured him, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“You sure I won’t die, punk?” Bucky snorted, checking over his tac suit, glancing over to you, wishing he could take you back with him.

Maybe one day.

“Take care of yourself doll” Bucky quickly stepped off the platform to give you another kiss before getting back on with a grin at the wolf whistle from Sam and Tony, waving to those in the room before giving Bruce nod. He disappeared in a flash, your anxiety kicking up again waiting for your Bucky to come back, the green signal lighting up once again, just like last time....

“Alright, 5..4..3..2..1″ Everyone stood in silence as Bucky reappeared once again, blinking just as he had done before, but this time, his eyes landing to you first.

“Bucky?” You whispered, still holding your breath as he stepped towards you, a relieved smile on his face, instantly enveloping you into a hug, inhaling your soft scent, the one that reminded him of home, his heart, his safe space.

“Hey darlin’” He kissed the top of your head, before cupping your face to look at him, peppering soft kisses across your cheek before dropping his hands and slipping them up your shirt to feel your belly, smiling at the feeling of soft flutters and kicks.

“You’re back” You pulled him down for a kiss, letting out a relieved sigh at the feeling of his warm pillowy lips finally on yours again, ignoring the hollering that went on in the background, your hands clutching onto him.

“Told you I’d be back” He smiled against your lips, scooping you into his arms, not wasting another second, taking you straight to your shared bedroom. He set you down gently on your feet before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“My darlin’ my sugar” He playfully whispered, holding you close to him. You gasped, pulling away to see his lips tick up into a smirk, giving you a wink,

“You-you remember?”

He nodded, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“You said maybe one day” He dropped to his knees, resting his head on your swollen belly, his heart swelling at the feeling of his babies, finally home again with the one person who lightened up his life “Glad to see you’re mine, babydoll”

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc @buckybarnessweetheart @pandaxnienke @manyfandomsfanvergent

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scoutswritingcorner · 2 months

Text

Pretty Woman

Rosie x GN!Reader

TW: Cannibalism!

A/N: I love Rosie..she’s a goddess that I will gladly serve. I’m a simp for dangerous women. Did I get inspiration from listening to “Oh, Pretty Woman” by Roy Orbison. Yes I did. ALSO MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR HER-

-🫀When you met Rosie for the first time was when you had accompanied Alastor to Cannibal Town. You never believed in love at first sight but ooooh boy oh boy- her smile got your face changing color.

-🫀 Don’t think Rosie and Alastor didn’t notice cause they did, Alastor is just going to use it against you later (bastard) and Rosie thinks you're just shy. Cause I feel like she may be very attentive to others peoples feelings just not her own.

-🫀You don’t look at her in the eyes much and you wished the world can swallow you whole cause this woman? Is so pretty.

-🫀 Rosie thinks you are the sweetest and cutest thing this side of hell, she’d be tempted to eat you all up if you gave her the chance. But she won’t especially when you're so shy that you couldn’t even look at her!

-🫀 She can see why Alastor adores you so! Such a cute little thing you are!

-🫀 It’s I’d say about a year of knowing her and just still being as much as a simp as you began with to the point where Alastor was getting annoyed, he trusts you with her heart. (They are besties your honor)

-🫀 You could’ve asked Alastor how to court her but it’s Alastor and he’s gonna either give you a look or just laugh cause you should know how to court a lady such as Rosie. You don’t, so you go to your good friend Google (Hell has Google I’m too tired to come up with a catchy hellish name for Google)

-🫀 It takes you hours cause you kept getting sidetracked of hiding your phone from Alastor. You said fuck it officially and went to go buy her flowers!

-🫀 She loved the flowers and now a week or two goes by and you return with more flowers! She has to be the one to speak up cause you haven’t said anything and just keep giving her flowers.

-🫀SO FASTFORWARDING TO YALL DATIN’

-🫀 Oh this woman loves and adores you outright, she’ll talk about you all day if she could!

-🫀 If you eat flesh then she’ll happily treat you to some lady fingers! But if not? Don’t worry your pretty little head, she knows many dishes she can make that don’t require demon flesh!

-🫀 Oh boy in private? A big cuddler. Also will stain your face in her lipstick from just kissing your cute face. She’s not apologizing but she will help you get it off if you want!

-🫀 Get ready to deal with Susan a lot. Especially if Rosie is at an Overlord meeting or if Susan catches you both walking around Cannibal Town.

-🫀Dates consist of walking around or out on the town! She loves spoiling you! Bring her dancing please, she’ll definitely take the lead but you’d be having fun!

-🫀 She strikes me as a biter like Alastor but not as much. Like she’ll bite your arm to taste your blood if you let her, but she won’t do it randomly. It also only happens in private and in the bedroom. It’s how she puts her claim on you besides the lipstick stains.

ALL IN ALL I LOVE ROSIE!! LET ME SMOOCH THE TALL CANNIBAL LADY DAMN IT!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #gn reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin rosie #rosie x reader

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yaekiss · 9 months

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zhongli asking for ur help to lay his eggs only to learn they’re unfertlized… fucking him with them inside him to fertilize them… >< 👍

꩜ Room Content: GN! Dom! Top! Reader x Sub! Bottom! Zhongli, no gendered terms for reader, reader has a cock, Zhongli's anatomy written to have 2 dicks, a pussy, and a womb, mentions of heat, eggs. (thanks blake), lmk if I missed anything ! ꩜ A/N: I've been thinking about this since u dropped this in my inbox, @uplatterme. also tagging @mahal-kita !! <3 honestly, I didn't really mean for it to become a ramble....... and I feel like this could've been more monsterfucky idk,, I haven't reach the full potential for this one, I'll add in extra thoughts in the tags

You come home one day and you find your poor husband with his draconic features out, his tail and horns proudly on display, along with scales that shimmer faintly in the light littered across his skin, and his talons.

He's coiled up on your sofa, looking downright miserable as his tail flicks back and forth irritably. It's not hard to tell that he's in a foul mood.

"Apologies you have to see me in such a state but it seems that my heat has snuck up on me this time," he may sound sorry however, the way he's eyeing you down is anything but. As if trying to entrance you to take things further.

“I would love for it to be over fast, however, for that to happen, copulation is required.”

The hem of his robe slips down his shoulder, revealing his (unmarked) skin. He's tempting you, the sly dragon, lashes batting at you.

"But you will help me, right, dearest?"

A slash from his claws makes quick work of the sash tying his robes and he sheds the thin fabric, letting you drink in the sight of his heat. His 2 cocks are already hard and weeping, precum drooling from the tips. But what really catches your eye is his glistening cunt, folds so wet and dripping with slick.

Zhongli drags you down, looping his arms around your neck and pressing himself flushed against you, intoxicated by the warmth of your body. He frees your cock and traces a claw against its underside, eager to have it deep in him.

Carefully, he presses his cocks against yours, hissing at the searing heat of the contact. Avoiding the sharp tips of his talons, he wraps his hands around the both of you and frots. Precum beads at the top, dripping down and coating your cock with every roll of Zhongli’s hips. His breath comes out in pants, already losing himself to the mounting pleasure.

“Hah… This feels so good…!” His voice is gravelly, laced with lust as he speeds up his pace, frotting his length against yours harder. But just as he’s about to cum, you yank his hands away, stopping him from reaching his climax. A snarl builds up in his throat at this but it quickly melts into a moan as you slap your tip on his clit.

“Let’s not forget about our main goal, hmm? But first, I want you to beg for it.”

“Please dearest, pleasepleaseplease, I n-need you!” He’s frantically trying to take you into him, jerking up to meet you but whining when your hands move to clamp around the plush flesh of his hips to prevent him from moving.

“Do not tease, please, I need to carry your clutch!” And that’s all you need to hear before you’re sinking into him, bottoming out without any resistance because of how wet he already is.

“Hngk! S-so full!” His head is thrown back as you thrust, paired with how his cocks are trapped between the two of you, bliss floods every nerve in him. Shakily guiding your hand to his womb, he groans out, “Can you- ah! -feel my eggs? You will fill me with y-your cum, pump me full-!?”

His words are cut off with you pressing the heel of your palm on his clit, grinding on the sensitive nub, bringing your poor dragon to completion. He clamps down on your length as he climaxes, the sudden increase in tightness making you cum as well, his walls milking you for all you’re worth.

The veins climbing up his arms glow a molten gold as his two cocks twitch while they splatter his release on your skin. Something slithers and wraps around you, a glance reveals that it's his tail, as if trying to keep you in him for as long as possible. Greedy.

For a moment, there’s a dreamy far off look in his eyes as he pats his tummy, one that soon changes to something more animalistic in nature, hungry for more. His tail wraps tighter around you, helping you reach deeper into him, parts that have him seeing stars behind his eyes.

“Perhaps we need to go for a few more rounds, dearest. I need to make sure it takes, after all ♡”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

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iloveinej · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

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Steve rogers x reader

Category: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Description of an injury and blood, mentions of nausea, fainting

Summary: (Name) has never had the currant to tell Steve about the injuries, afraid of bothering him. Not realizing that it can backfire.

Words: 2.6 k

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(Name) loved Steve Rogers with her entire being, and she believed that every person she met felt the same. With his blue eyes, kind smile, and charisma. How he cared about every living, breathing thing around him.

But it didn't stop her from shutting down whenever he was irritated, mad, or even tense. Maybe it was because of past trauma, or that she simply didn't want to become the reason why he was mad. But every time he became like that, (Name) felt almost scared.

Not of him, of course, but scared that he don't want her near him. It has happened before with other people.

Which was why she was sitting in a corner of the quinjet, headphones over her ears as she tried to control the pain that bloomed like wildfire over her back.

It was an unsuccessful mission. And she knew Steve, like everybody else, hated unsuccessful missions. He was leaning against a wall, both arms crossed over his chest with a hard, stony look on his face. He didn't speak to anyone, stuck in his little world.

And she didn't want to be an inconvenience by whining about the flesh wound on her back. Especially if he hadn't noticed that she was in pain.

Either way, she planned on patching it up herself, and then going to bed, hoping that the storm would calm enough for the next day. And if she were feeling luxurious, she might even go to the med bay to get the wound checked on.

Except she hadn't planned on the fact that the wound was efficiently placed on her back, therefore making it out of reach for her to clean it. And she was way too exhausted to ask anyone else or to even care about the matter. So she grabbed the bandages and wrapped them around her chest and back, leaving it like that before turning off the lights in her bathroom and throwing herself headfirst in the bed.

Not knowing Steve lay on the other side of the wall, waiting for her to come and say goodnight.

The next morning, the ache in her back had gotten worse, and her left shoulder strained whenever she tried to move it. She needed to get to the med bay at least once today. But first, she required a big cup of coffee.

When she made it out to the sunlit kitchen, the pain in her back had spread. Now, her head ached just as much, and every time she turned too fast, black splotches would show.

And earlier, when she changed her bandages the blood had entirely seeped through, leaving it soaked in red. But the blood had been diluted with another liquid, which she found mildly concerning.

She poured herself the coffee that was left in the coffee machine and put it in the microwave since it was cold. And while she stood there waiting she noted that the kitchen was empty, which was strange to be at this time of the day.

"Jarvis? Do you mind telling me where everyone is?" She asked the AI.

"I believe that Mr. Wilson is still sleeping." She let out a humorous scoff." Mr. Stark and Mr. Banner are currently in the lab. Ms. Romanoff in the training areas with Mr. Rogers."

(Name)s ears perked at the mention of him, and her mind spiraled into calculating thoughts. "Did Steve already eat breakfast?"

"Yes. An omelet, made of three eggs and a cup of coffee, one teaspoon of sugar, and milk." A frown tugged at her face. Steve never ate breakfast without her. Unless they were fighting, which was a rare happening. Steve believed that the most important meal of the day was breakfast, and therefore always made sure that (Name) ate it with him. But so that he could have company, and also make sure that she ate enough.

"Alright then. Thank you, Jarvis." She smiled up to the roof, hoping that he could see her appreciativeness. Then she made a beeline back to her room with a downturn of her brow, planning to do paperwork before throwing herself into her, not so fantastic anymore, day. Completely forgetting her visit to the med bay.

Paperwork had always been a somewhat calming thing to do for her to relax, turn off her brain, and go on autopilot. Often when she was stressed, Steve found her with her nose in her computer typing away without any knowledge around her. It always worked.

Except for today.

The pain in her head only got worse after all the caffeine, and she couldn't lean back into her chair either because of her back. And not only that, but thoughts of Steve plagued her mind. And not the good, lovey-dovey thoughts. But instead, the toxic, poisoning thoughts were so loud that it was the only thing she heard.

She had no idea what to do about their situation. And she was really afraid that she had accidentally done something the day before to upset him, giving her a reason for his strange and unlike actions.

"Mr. Rogers would like me to alert you that there is a team meeting in the conference room in five minutes." She jumped in her chair and a small yelp left her lips as Jarvis spoke, making her back strain. And that made her wince painfully.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to frighten you." A grimace covered (Name)s face in an attempt to smile, and she carefully rubbed her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. I was just stuck in my head."

"How so?" And (Name) went quiet. She hadn't expected a question from him.

"Nothing special." She absentmindedly hummed for an answer, and that seemed to get Jarvis less curious.

"If you say so. 3 minutes left." And with that, she quickly grabbed her things and bolted out of her quarters, right towards the elevator.

She turned out to arrive just in time as Fury was about to close the door, and she quickly slithered in, choosing a stool at the back of the table so that she wouldn't get questioning eyes on her. When she entered she could feel Steves's's stare burning into her skin, but she doesn't have the time nor thought to greet him, which would perhaps leave consequences for later. But now she just longed to sit down before she fainted.

She didn't even notice when Fury started speaking because blood was rushing through her ears, and beads of sweat ran down her neck, sending a shiver through her ice-cold and fire-hot body. It was like she running a fever in an ice bath. She dared to subtly raise a shaking hand towards her back, slightly touching the wound, only to have to suppress a wince and bring back blood-stained fingers.

She was at least wearing black.

Her attention shifted when Fury changed places with Steve, and let him take his place in the front. It was hard to know if she found it either positive or negative.

Positive because she could focus on something that brought her calm, and hear his voice instead of the roar in her ears. Focus on his plack t-shirt and nice fitting jeans, which was something he didn't wear often. How soft hir hair looked and his pink , kissable lips.

Negative because now he could see how colorless her face had become, along with a thin cover of sweat by her throat and her lifeless tired eyes.

And perhaps it made Steve speak a tad bit faster, and perhaps he skipped over some of the parts he was supposed to introduce. But it looked like his girlfriend was dying, and Fury didn't need to know that his two most capable agents were in a relationship.

He could her heartbeat picking up more and more as he spoke, and it was a relief for him when he could finally dismiss the team.

She slowly stood up as the rest of them collected their things and one by one filed out. But she couldn't do anything as quickly as she liked, not even walk. She had no choice but to take a tight grip on the chairs lined up, and use them as crutches.

And when Steve turned his back to gather a pile of papers, she took a breath, straightened her back, and took two quick steps towards the door. But Steve heard the increase of speed in her steps in quickly caught her arms in a fierce grip, stopping her from escaping.

"Damn it." She mumbled, making sure that Steve couldn't hear her. And then she turned her head to meet Steves's's eye, trying to look as normal as possible, which didn't trick Steve at all. Only made him more concerned.

"You alright?" He let both of his hands smooth over her shoulders and arms, looking at her with those blue, affectionate eyes.

"Mhm!" She hummed, trying to sound as carefree as possible while plastering a smile on her face. But he didn't look convinced. Not at all.

He let his left hand travel up to her cheek, and he was about to say something. But when his palm touched her cheek, he flinched and removed his palm to see that it was damp.

"Steve-" She warned, but it was no idea. He had already raised his sleeve and laid his wrist over her forehead. And she couldn't protest because his wrist was oh so warm while she had been freezing and sweating cold ever since she entered the room.

"You're burning." It didn't feel like she was.

"Are you sick?" He asked, a frown on his face as she felt for her temperature. "Why haven't you said anything?"He scolded, and she shrunk into herself as his hands continued to investigate her. Until his hand came in contact with her wound. And she recoiled away from his hand, trying to get as far away from the pain as possible. Tears gathered in her eyes at the fire in her back, and she glued them shut as she tried to let it pass.

Steve brought his hand up to see when he felt something on the tips of his fingers, and his eyes widened in horror. There was a vermillion stain on his fingers, running down his hand. And (Name) saw both concern and panic as he looked down at her, as she was now leaning against his chest, too tired to stand on her own.

"I'm fine, promise." She said, lime on autopilot.

"We need to get you to a doctor." He insisted, about to take her under the knees and carry her there. But the second he tried to m, she leaned away.

And the guilt was there again. Steves tired but pretty face showed concern and panic, but she wasn't supposed to make him concerned and panic. As his partner, she was there to make him calm, happy, and satisfied. Sure, if Steve would hide a wound like this one from her, she would be livid. But that's hardly classed as the same thing.

"It's fine Steve, I'm sure I can get there me."

He scoffed and looked almost hurt.

"No, you're not going anywhere yourself. Not by how you're looking"

A protest lay prepared on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't get further than opening her mouth before a strong wave of nausea and dizziness washed over her body. And she swayed, once, twice, before her footing came undone, and she lost all sense of balance.

And it felt like she fell into a warm pillow, or perhaps she was just delirious. But it truly resembled a warm, fluffy pillow. And she snuggled into it, ignoring the distant calls of her (Name). And Steve's breath got caught in his throat when he saw her closing her eyes in his arms.

Steve was aware that something was nagging his lover's mind, and he had been aware of it during the last week. It was like she walked on eggshells around him and it bothered him. Because something bothered her. Something about him bothered her.

He hadn't done anything differently, not that he was aware of. He hadn't said anything either. And he liked to think that he had a great memory.

And he still couldn't figure out why she didn't tell him about her injury. Banner had told him that she was lucky that the infections in her wound hadn't reached any further. But Steve had a hard time seeing anything positive with the situation at all.

Duobts clouded his mind and made it hard to think straight. How could he know that she hadn't hidden other injuries that she could've gotten?

As if her mind was connected to his, as if she heard his self-deprecating thoughts, she came to her senses and let out a long and low groan, snapping Steve out of his head.

He quickly discarded his block and pencil to the side, leaving the drawing on the small table by the side before crouching down to her height.

"(Name)?" He dared to ask, and his heart felt lighter when he saw her eyelids twitch in response. A sigh left her dry lips before her eyelids slowly cracked open and presented themselves to Steve, giving him a confirmation that she was there with him.

"Steve." It came as a breath, her voice warm with love as she saw the familiar face.

As light as a feather, he let his fingertips ghost along her temples, repeating the momentum over and over again. Her eyelids relaxed, and Steve's back tensed as she once again closed her eyes. But (Name) could feel his muscle become rigid, and let her hand gently enclose steves wrist, running circles on his inner arm as comfort. As she always did.

"Why didn't you tell me?" An audible sigh sounded from her mouth, and for a moment Steve was afraid that he had annoyed her. But her fingertips were still dancing along the expense of his arm, and he let that comfort him. Although, she didn't provide him with an answer.

"You can trust me. I want you to trust me." He reassured her, and vulnerability spilled through his voice. He grabbed her other hand that rested on her stomach, entangling their fingers.

"I do trust you." She hoarsely whispered, throat dry and mouth like sandpaper.

But when she forced her eyes open, Steve looked at her, unconvinced.

"Then why? Why didn't you tell me that you were in pain?"

She wanted to bathe in the softness of his voice. Get nurtured by it, drink it, and stay by the sound to the end of time. The fondness, bonded with her worrying, guilty, and anxious emotions from before created bittersweet sparks under her skin. And it took form as a watery mist, covering her live full irises.

"I do trust you, but I don't want to be a nuisance to you." She painfully admitted and laid her hand on his cheek as a peace offering." You work so hard to succeed Steve, so hard that when you don't succeed, you become very tense. I don't want to be there to make you even tenser."

He shut his eyes tightly and nuzzled his cheek further into her palm, and a drop of water fell from his eye, rolling down his summer-tinted cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" Worry etched in her brows, but he only shook his head.

"I made you think that you would be a burden to me whenever I felt a negative emotion." She shook her head, already beginning her protest." A partner is not supposed to do that (Name)."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Steve, it was not on you. You didn't make me feel like a burden. I did. And I'm sorry for not telling you about my injury." She smiled sadly at him when he kissed her palm.

"I want to take care of you, and comfort you. I want to be that person to you, so let me be that the next time." And she could only nodd, her heart being free from the shackles of heavy emotions. Instead, she felt light as a feather.

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My requests are open;););;);)

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avelera · 10 months

Text

It sounds so self-obvious when you say it aloud, but the key to writing romance is that the characters need to be into each other.

I've seen so many so-called "romances" in mainstream movies and shows that somehow fail to achieve this very simple principle. Usually they're het romances but not always. I've also seen established lgbt+ couples who we're told are married but who never show any particular interest in one another to confirm this supposed love in a show-don't-tell manner.

Below the cut I want to explore how to write love (romantic or otherwise), what makes it work in fiction, and the important difference between why characters fall in love vs. why they choose to pursue or stay with the person they fell in love with, because those distinctions matter.

Let's quickly touch on failed fictional relationships before moving onto functioning ones. Because the thing is, it's important to flesh out relationships and romances if they are written into the story even if they aren't the focus of the story or they are doomed to fail as part of the plot.

I see it a lot of times in fictional relationships that are clearly plot points and so the author doesn't bother to invest in them. If a relationship is established with the protagonist just because this current partner is going to break up with them, thus launching our actual romance plot, then there's a temptation not to fully flesh out that doomed-to-fail relationship.

But to skate over the failed relationship is a missed opportunity for a writer. Relationships reveal a great deal about us, as do failed ones. Even if the relationships don't work out, we get the chance to learn what the protagonist is looking for in a relationship, what didn't work in the failed one, and we get to learn more about their love language. This also requires that we see these romantic partners are into each other, or were into each other, and how, before it went sour. Even if it's one sided and doomed to fail, we need to see what the infatuated side of the pairing was into about the other person. Even if it's just physical, that too is revealing.

Romeo was in love with Rosaline before he fell in love with Juliet. But we don't skate over what he loved about her. We learn that Romeo frequently falls in love, he's often impetuous in love (which we will see carried forward later in the famous balcony scene with Juliet). We learn that he is poetic about that love. We learn how much he loved Rosaline, and whether or not we believe he was in love or think that love is wise, it is important for establishing later, when he meets Juliet, the order of magnitude difference between his love of Rosaline and of Juliet. One left him broken-hearted when he lost her, but he quickly recovered. But Juliet? He was willing to die for love of her. The love of Rosaline set up the contrast in how Romeo loves that would be massively important to the impact of the story later.

I bring up this example because many years ago in a high school lit class, the teacher said that Shakespeare never explains why characters fall in love, and so writers don't have to explain why characters fall in love.

It didn't quite sit with me right, because I think it's only half true. The full maxim, and what writers today can learn with regards to romance is:

You don't have to explain why characters fall in love. You do have to explain why they stay together and/or pursue that love.

Actually, it's often better to not explain why a character fell in love. It's ineffable. It just happens. How often have we met or been introduced to someone who is, on paper, perfect for us with similar interests and compatible families or lifestyles, only to not feel any sort of spark? How many grand romances, in contrast, are about people who on paper are terrible for each other but just can't seem to quit one another and keep being drawn back together?

This doesn't just have to apply to romantic love, by the way. How many people are inevitably drawn back to toxic or abusive parents, even though they know this person has a negative impact on their life? How many people stick it out for friendships that damage their health and self-esteem, all out of love?

Again, you don't need to explain why someone loves, but you do need to explain why they pursue it or stick with it. The reasons can be societal, they can be because of guilt, they can be because of adrenaline, or because of long history together, or if it's a successful romance, it can be because they don't just love each other, they also really really like each other!

Now, this might seem somewhat inherently self-contradictory. I'm saying you have to show that people are into each other but that you don't have to explain why they fell in love??

But showing that people are into each other is actually about why they pursue it and stay with the person. The falling in love itself is simply the gravity between them, the magnetic bond, what draws them together. In fiction, we want that to be powerful, overwhelming, inevitable. If the story is about love, we need to see why these people can't walk away, or can't walk away for long, or are miserable when they do. They are drawn to each other, powerfully, destructively or gloriously.

But you can be drawn to someone without having a single conversation or knowing anything about them. We initially fall in love with our image of a person, what they mean to us, what we think they will be in our lives. Real love is about learning who the real person is and continuing to love and to like that person. Real long-term love is loving that person even when they change from the one you first met, and they love you too as you change. But the opposite of love is not hate, it's apathy. The love is the pull.

Why characters are into each other, or why they like each other, is the force that makes them continue to pursue that person. The love itself can be the thing they're into, by the way! "I can't get this person out of my head, I can't put it in words, but they haunt me and I'm into them for that," is a totally valid way to build a romance or character relationship without any other things that they like about each other!

But as said, it can and probably should be more than that in a successful love story. The construction of the love and like of the relationship can also be Love + Long History + Physical Attraction + Deep Understanding. Gomez and Morticia Addams love each other, they'd love each other if the other was unconscious, they'd love each other to the grave and beyond. But they're also into the fact that they're both incredibly extra romantics who love demonstrating their fascination to each other, in ways presumably no other partner could keep up with. They waltz at odd hours, engage in thrilling sword fights, raise a family together based on their shared worldview, and stare deeply into each other's eyes at every opportunity. They don't suffer one another, they adore one another's presence and quirks and foibles. They are seriously whackadoodle into each other and we see it in the joy they take in one another, how much they like each other in addition to that love.

Characters who are in love should be obsessed with something about the person. Remember, these aren't real people, I'm not giving real world relationship advice. This is fiction. You can write a tepid relationship but it will be sort of boring to read. That might be the point! The tepid relationship might be in contrast to your protagonists, for example!

But my point is that in all fictional relationships there should be something in which the characters are each other's biggest fan. In mother/daughter familial love, they might love one another's outspokenness on what is important to them, we can see their eyes shine when the mother or her daughter gives that big important speech, filled with love and pride for them, and encouraging their outspokenness at every turn, inspired by it.

If the love is between two brothers, related or otherwise, we might see that love in darker times. A brother has to pick up the other from jail. It is painful, heartbreaking, but he can't turn away, he can't not do it. That's love. But, maybe the brother he picked up cracks a joke on the ride home, makes the other laugh despite himself, and suddenly, he remembers the good side of the love too, that his brother can always make him laugh. This is important because it shows us not just that these brothers love each other, but why they continue to interact with each other despite the pain and disappointment. That might actually be tragic rather than happy. One brother might not be able to escape because of the other's ability to make him laugh. That too is love, not just the magnetic attraction of it but the reason it continues to draw them together inevitably, that ability to understand one another and make the other laugh, when he really should probably walk away for his own sake.

The reason so much slash shipping exists in fanfiction is because very often, platonic love is fleshed out in the mainstream more often between two same-sex characters with greater depth than romantic love. A mainstream show might present us with a couple who we are told are attracted to each other and from there the writers assume that is enough to explain why they got together. Nothing deeper. No spark of liking one another in addition to wanting one another.

But in a buddy cop film, the buddy cops are usually obsessed with each other. They stand up for one another when the chips are down, they save one another in moments of peril, they look into each other's eyes and discuss what is important to them in life, like solving the mystery they're working on, and in doing so find understanding with one another's worldviews. That is infinitely more satisfying as a love story than simply telling me that a beautiful Barbie and Ken of main characters have slept with each other and therefore are dating and "in love".

Obsession is key. But don't get too bogged down in how the love exists. It exists because that's love. And we are fascinated in fiction by powerful love of all sorts. We love characters who don't just suffer each other but are into each other, ludicrously, obsessively, even tragically. Turn up the love to the whackadoodle maximum and break off the knob and I guarantee, you will at the very least have characters that people will watch with interest. We love characters who are obsessed with something, or someone. Their love reveals to us what is lovable about that character or thing, it makes us love them.

And then, because love alone is not always enough, show us the joy that keeps them coming back to each other. Show us some good times mixed in with the bad, tragic as they might be for how they prevent the cutting of ties that maybe should be severed. Show us why they can't give up and walk away. Show us too why they like each other. That is what draws a good love story together.

#maggie rambles #writing #writing advice #on romance

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ven0moir · 1 year

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Byler Analysis: Mike’s phone calls.

This analysis is going over why Mike’s phone calls were, without a doubt, for Will. Bylers have been talking about this for months now, but I’ve compiled all the evidence I could find.

So, to start us off...

Hawkin’s Lab is owned by the ‘Department of Energy’, which according to Mike, Ted has said is Government/The Military.

In S1, the main antagonists in regard to Hawkins Lab were Connie Frazier and Dr. Brenner. However, by the season finale, Connie was killed by Eleven and Dr. Brenner’s status was unknown.

With the two of them out of the way, we are introduced to Dr. Sam Owens in S2.

Now, whether or not Owens is truly trustworthy or not is a whole other can of worms, but for the sake of this analysis, we will follow his introduction as an ally to the Byers-Hoppers. He was the primary doctor looking after Will and investigating what was going on with him when he was possessed by the Mindflayer. S2 concludes by letting us know that Owens has pulled some strings to give Eleven a new identity and thus a new life: that of JANE HOPPER.

Owens recommends to Hopper that Eleven should lay low for about a year before living freely, as a PRECAUTION (since, like he said before, ‘those people’ aka the bad ones, are gone), but overall, things are safe enough that Owens even approves of Hopper letting Eleven go to the Snow Ball.

S3 starts in June 1985, about six months after S2, which means Eleven’s year of laying low isn’t done yet. But since Owens is in charge of the lab, Eleven and Mike can call on the phone. We also see them using walkie-talkies, so I’m assuming that they don’t call that often as a precaution as well, but they can do it as long as it’s not too frequent.

It is important to note that the lab was not the main antagonist in neither S2 nor S3 (It was the Mindflayer & Russians respectively).

Eleven can even afford to go out a couple of times to the mall with Max without consequence at all. It isn’t until things get bad enough with the ‘flesh flayer’ that the military immediately steps in to cover it all up (and despite their best efforts, the town is still suspicious).

Owens is FIRED at the end of S3 as a consequence of the mall “fire”. This is significant because it means that he no longer holds the power to protect Eleven. Still, he managed to use his contacts (which include allies like Ellen, Wallace, and Hamon) to relocate Eleven + the Byers to Lenora and look after them very discretely.

Because of this plan, Eleven is safe in Lenora enough to go out and have a life as Jane Hopper. However, that plan does NOT include calling Hawkins as that would be FAR TOO RISKY.

She cannot call or be called from Hawkins as it is no longer just a precaution, like when Owens recommended Eleven to lay low for a year, just in case. Now, her staying away from Hawkins (which includes calling there since the phone-lines are tapped) is a NECESSITY for her long-term survival since the cover story is that ‘Eleven is dead’.

Powell’s call about Chrissy’s murder is enough to immediately summon Sullivan to investigate and pin the murders on Eleven. He even tells Owens that there are rumors of her being alive and receiving help from the ‘inside’ aka Owens. WHICH IS TRUE. So, they’re onto Owens and ALL OF THEM require to be extra careful with calling to Hawkins.

Mike was likely not able to talk about Eleven/Jane much during his calls with Will either.

THIS is likely why we see a walkie-talkie on Eleven’s Mike box and why Mike spoke about stealing Cerebro from Dustin at the end of S3.

HOWEVER, because the mail system isn’t under surveillance like phone lines are, LETTERS were established as Mike and El’s primary method of communication.

Whether or not Mike truly did steal Cerebro from Dustin to call El a few times, we see Cerebro at the top of Dustin’s house in what seems to be a very permanent set-up. I personally think this implies Cerebro hasn’t been moved, and their communication happened solely through letters.

But even if, say, Mike went to visit Dustin to use Cerebro (which wasn’t established, but is within the realm of possibilities) it doesn’t change the fact that phone calls were off the table, and thus, those were for Will and Will alone.

So, as Will himself explained, the letters were for Eleven, and phone calls were for HIM.

Which means ... this was all about Mike being unable to reach WILL.

Byler is endgame

#byler #byler analysis

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sevcasejay1chicago · 7 months

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The War Within- Jay Halstead, Kelly Severide, and Matt Casey

Summary: You have epilepsy and the stress from the week causes an episode.

Warnings: POSSIBLE SPOILERS, epilepsy, vomiting

————————

One of the first things that you discussed with the guys when you began dating a year ago was that you have epilepsy. You, Matt Casey, Kelly Severide, and Jay Halstead had been friends for years before dating, but you had managed to keep away from any and all situations that caused your symptoms to flare. It was easier to make those excuses with all of your friends around, but some situations were harder to avoid, without causing suspicion, while dating. Of course, the boys understood and all kept an eye on you. Throughout the beginning of your relationship, you had two longer episodes, but both were mild and did not require medical attention. Luckily, since they were mild and all three of your boys were there, you were able to get comfortable at home with your guys surrounding you and keeping watch for the rest of the night. After many small scares and many nights spent together just to be in each other’s company, mostly to keep the boys from stressing out over you, you all moved in together 2 months ago.

You had been extremely stressed out this past week. As a nurse in the Chicago Med ED, you are pretty use to emergency situation and work related stress, but this week of unusual flesh eating bacteria had you in a bundle of nerves. You knew that a seizure would come eventually, and have been pleasantly surprised by the fact that one hadn’t happened yet, but you tried not to focus on the what ifs while you and the boys had your date night.

Because of the week everyone had and to make sure you were in a comfortable environment incase something did happen, you all opted on a game night. So, you sat on one couch with Jay at your side, while Matt and Kelly took their spots on the opposite couch. You tried to fight Jay when he talked about arranging your couches to face each other with the coffee table in the middle and the tv on the wall over the fireplace, which was at the end of each couch, but it was best for nights like these or just cuddling with two on each couch while watching tv.

The first thing you noticed was that your heart was fluttering. You figured it was the excitement of [your favorite game], so you just brushed it off. However, you couldn’t ignore your symptoms anymore when Jay wrapped an arm around you, commenting on how you were sweating and shaking. You took hold of Jay’s thigh, attempting to ground yourself as you gave in to how anxious you felt now that their full attention was turned to you.

“P-please. I-I can’t.” You whimpered out, anxiety creeping into your voice as your body took over and you were seconds away from losing full control.

Matt pushed the table out of the way as Kelly helped Jay lower you to the floor and push the couch back. Matt raced into the kitchen for a bucket, your rescue inhaler, your rescue nasal spray and some water, knowing that you often get sick after bad seizures, and this one was already progressing more quickly than usual. Thinking on his feet, Matt quickly grabbed a fresh hand towel before sprinting back into the living room.

Kelly was laid out a little ways away, keeping eye contact as your body started to shake, but you were still somewhat coherent. He was whispering words of comfort as Jay kept his hands lightly on the shoulder and hip that was off the floor, keeping you on your side. Matt placed all the items he brought onto the floor a few feet away from your head as he sat and waiting for your full on seizure.

“Baby. I know your scared, but you gotta let go.” Jay murmured, brushing a few flyaways back from your face. “Your just hurting yourself more. We are ready. We have you. Just let it happen.” Jay soothed, anchoring you onto your side again.

You whimpered, tears sliding down your face. Almost as quickly as the sound came out, you zoned out, and then let your eyes flutter closed.

“She’s out.” Kelly informed your other lovers, moving toward your feet to get out of the way.

“Here it comes.” Jay muttered, feeling you lock up under his hands.

Then the full seizure started. You jerked around, head flinging back as your arms locked into your chest and legs kicked out. Kelly and Matt moved the furniture further away as Jay kept you on your side as best he could without hurting you. All the boys kept saying encouraging words, knowing you might not hear them, but they felt this was all they could do in their own helpless state.

Matt had thought to turn on his stop watch when the seizure started and looked down after a while. “Shit. It’s been 3 minutes. Help me get the spray in her nose.” Matt said to Kelly.

Kelly nodded, carefully walking around you to gently steady your head. Matt leaned over you from behind and sprayed the rescue medicine into your nostrils. Within thirty seconds, your movements slowed and you went completely still under Jay’s hands. All three boys breathed a sigh of relief, glad that you seemed to be coming out of it.

When you started flexing your hands, Kelly reached over and took one of your hands in his. “Hey baby. Take it slow. You just had a seizure.” Jay said, speaking slowly as you often had trouble concentrating immediately following a seizure.

You hummed, leaning back into Jay’s knees, head falling into Matt’s lap. Slowly, you brought your free hand up to your mouth, wiping away the saliva that had dribbled out while Matt wiped your tears.

“How yah feelin?” Kelly murmured, leaning down to kiss your forehead after wiping your brow with the hand towel Matt brought.

“Tired.” You slurred, slowly sliding a hand down to your stomach. “Kinna sick.” Your eyes welling with tears. As if having a seizure wasn’t bad enough, you also had to have an extreme fear of vomiting.

They all nodded and Matt silently moved the bucket closer. They carefully watched every move you made. Every now and then, you would twitch a little or whine as your stomach churned. Some color some coming back to your face, even as you fought the nausea down. They knew you were uncomfortable and probably wanted a shower, given that you had an accident during your seizure.

“Hey babe. Ready to sit up and try some of your water?” Kelly asked, running a hand over your head to push back some flyaways.

You nodded, letting the boys slowly help you into a sitting position. Jay had you between his legs, back propped up against his chest to support you and help you calm down more. You flushed as you eyed the small wet mark on the carpet before quickly paling. Luckily, Matt was still keeping a close eye on you and shoved the bucket under your chin before you could process what was even happening.

You cried out at the end of the first dry heave, immediately panicking. Jay made sure that he had you stabilized as Matt stabilized the bucket and Kelly took your hand, rubbing your shoulder with the other.

“Shhhh. Just breathe. It’ll be over soon.” Matt cooed, lowering his voice to a soothing baritone that he knows helps calm you.

“Just let it happen and try to relax. It’s okay sweet girl.” Jay mumbled, kissing the back of your neck.

You only threw up a little bit, having been scared of this exact situation and barely eating all day. The dry heaves stuck around for a few minutes before you were left gasping for air. Audible wheezes were the only thing that could be heard as the boys tried to let you calm down. Kelly, without saying a word, gently shook your inhaler as Jay grabbed the water from the coffee table a few feet to his right.

“Here sweetheart. Shhhhh. Just try to breathe for me. You need to wash your mouth out so that Kel can give you your inhaler.” Jay soothes, lightly pushing the cup to your bottom lip to prompt you to open. You did, quickly swishing your mouth out and spitting in the bucket.

Matt left, taking the bucket to empty out and to start a bath for you. Jay settled you into his chest again, slightly swaying to try and calm you. Kelly prepped your inhaler and the chamber attachment before holding it to your lips. He counted down and then counted your breaths as you inhaled the medication through the chamber, allowing the inhaler to open your lungs again. Once you were done, Kelly put tue medication aside and stood, taking you in his arms and carrying you to the bathroom with Jay on his heels.

If you’d like to be added to my tag list, please comment below! Thank you! ❤️

Tag list:

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#one chicago #one chicago x reader #matt casey #kelly severide #jay halstead #fluff #matt casey x reader #jay halstead x reader #comfort #kelly severide x reader #epilepsy #asthma

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bhaalbaaby · 7 months

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How do you think the companions would react to Tav being a virgin with intimacy issues?

oooh. i have thought about this before with one of my tavs, but never fully fleshed it out, so here are some headcanons for you ♥

gale would be understanding and wouldn't force tav to do anything they're uncomfortable with. he wouldn't want to push any boundaries. if anything, he'd take it as an opportunity to woo tav with small romantic gestures like holding hands and sitting near each other at camp. he also may make a wizard joke about virginity and something about his first time to try to help ease their discomfort. he would also find books with similar premises and read them to tav. he would be very gentle with them if they decided to sleep with him for the first time, making sure they're comfortable and again not wanting to push them out of their comfort zone.

wyll also would be understanding. he is willing to wait until the end of time so long as tav is comfortable. he would be a gentleman towards tav, giving them gifts and trinkets that reminded him of them. he'd like to take them on strolls around the camp and anywhere calm area they find while adventuring, maybe even picnicking and reading sonnets he wrote about them. while i don't think wyll has intimacy issues of his own, i do think after talking to tav, they would come to an understanding that they would wait until a very special moment happens when everything feels right. he would have to tamper down his excitement to make sure he doesn't cross any lines, but it would be an enjoyable time for better times to come.

lae'zel wouldn't understand it at first since it's just physical actions. she wouldn't coerce tav, seeing it as failed lay. however if she sees them still attempting to woo her, she'd allow it since she sees them trying to chase her. this would be a lot of communication between lae'zel and tav as lae'zel has her own intimacy issues since she saw it as a priority. she'd try her best to understand her partner after a bit of convincing since she will be pent up on her own. if tav decides to sleep with lae'zel for the first time, it would require even more communication and groundwork/rules so it would be comfortable for tav and lae'zel would learn that even softness can be erotic and enjoyable.

shadowheart would use this information as blackmail should it come to that with an 'understanding' ear, relating because she cannot remember her first time. she'd mostly see them as a friend she shared a potential wine-drunk kiss with. she would try to build up their intimacy by asking them to meditate with her and try to get them to talk about why they think they may have intimacy issues/wait to have sex, but this time just as knowledge instead of blackmail. she wouldn't want to make them do anything either since she is focused on her mission. after her mission depending on the choices, dark justiciar shadowheart would want to 'cure' tav of their 'ailment' to help them process and move forward, not so they can sleep together, but truly out of the goodness of her heart. selunite shadowheart would be ready to sleep with tav whenever as part of her new path of accepting her fears and would hope they would be comfortable enough with her to do the same.

karlach would want to help tav the best she could, knowing how it is wanting to do something like that, but not be able to. they would find non-touching ways to show intimacy (mostly out of necessity) but it would help build their bond and ease any insecurities tav may be harboring since physicalities are out of the way for now. once they can touch, karlach has to keep herself together like wyll since as excited as she is, she doesn't want to alienate her partner by wanting to have sex right away and she also doesn't want to disappoint them by being their first when she's 'out of practice.' when they do have sex, it's very passionate as karlach lets tav take the lead on what they do and how they do it, stopping if things get overwhelming.

astarion wouldn't know what to do with tav at first since his plan would fall apart immediately. he wouldn't want to force himself on them since he isn't compelled to and wouldn't want to put his safety at risk by doing that either. so he plays the long game, seeing what tav likes and dislikes. he will butter them up with compliments and pick up lines that work in the past while allowing them into his space without expecting anything in return. since he feeds on them, it's easier if they share bedrolls which is a lot for the both of them. tav at first prefers to have their rolls next to each other so there's a closeness, but still a barrier and so astarion doesn't disturb their rest since he doesn't sleep/meditate for too long. but slowly they get down to one bedroll and sharing body space becomes more common even if sex is not happening. by the time this happens however, astarion makes the decision that he himself is not ready for that type of relationship with tav, not wanting to feel the ick that he has when it comes to sex. if astarion stays a spawn, he will still take his time when it comes to tav and moving forward with sex. he is fine with small things like kisses and will start small with foreplay until they are both comfortable with going all the way. ascended astarion would not have the time and energy for tav. he would hold it over their head that since they are bound to him, so is their body. i don't think he would compel them to sleep with him, but he definitely would bring it up more often than tav would be comfortable with.

halsin would be understanding with tav, praising them for at least being upfront and honest about their situation. he knows it's not easy to have intimacy issues as he has his own. If he senses tav is interested in him, he would be respectful of their boundaries, widdle trinkets while they have time near each other. he would also try to find something in nature similar to tav in hopes of them understanding they are not alone. if they choose him, he would try his best to contain himself as he knows the bear form would be absolutely too much for tav even if they think it wouldn't.

minthara wouldn't understand unless it was a reason caused by someone else because she would vow to end the person who caused harm to tav and caused their issues. if it doesn't stem from that, it would take her mind a little bit to understand why tav has waited and their issues. she would wait until they're ready and hope it wouldn't affect how tav is out on the battlefield. as the two get closer, she would be more willing to spend time with them by showing her culture if they aren't drow or duegar, and just spend time with them the best they could. if they choose her for their first time, it would be an intense, but enjoyable time. i don't know how she would react to a drow male having these issues however. i think she would have to do a lot of self-reevaluating and reprogramming her mind from lolth to be able to accept them and move forward.

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rinixo · 1 year

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divine battle

Din Djarin/Reader | 2.5k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, pregnancy, Mand’alor Din Djarin, pregnant sex, pregnancy related body dysmorphia, descriptions of childbirth, descriptions of pain, blood

A short wrap-up to aquae vivae. This has descriptions of body dysmorphia, pain and stress during childbirth, and blood.

a/n: The concept of Mandalorians viewing childbirth as a battle is inspired by Aztec mythology and folklore.

read on ao3

You weren’t exactly trying to avoid it, but it still happens sooner than you expected.

Fatigue. Sore abdomen and breasts. Minor mood swings. All symptoms of an impending menstrual cycle - which never comes.

You keep quiet about it at first. A visit to a med droid confirms your suspicions and gives you a clearer timeline. Just a few weeks in so far. Many months to go.

Laying on the bed, you press soft fingers into the flesh of your stomach absentmindedly, trying to imagine it swollen and round. You’d have to let your clothes out, you realize. Or get new ones. Plus all of the other things babies require.

You don’t know where to even start. You don’t have any family here on Mandalore besides your husband - no one to ask, to confide in.

Din had raised Grogu, but that was different. He isn’t a normal baby. A human baby. Your baby.

The sound of the door opening makes you turn your head to look. Din has arrived, Grogu in his arms. They had been training, based on the paint splattered across the child’s clothes.

“Are you all right?” Din questions, seeing you laid out over the blankets.

You nod. “Yes. Just tired.”

Setting Grogu down, he starts to take off his boots and helmet. “Are you sure you’re not working too hard? You’ve been more tired than usual the past few days.”

“I’m sure,” you reply. He casts you a small frown, which you can’t help but smile at. You like how his lips curve naturally into a soft pout.

Raising your hand, you beckon him closer. “Come here.”

Din obliges you, walking slowly toward your bed. He lets you grab his gloved hand, and you pull him down so that he lies next to you. You entwine your fingers with his, turning your head to look into his dark eyes.

He has such nice eyes, you think. Perhaps your baby would have his eyes.

“You sure you’re ok?” Din asks again. There’s worry in his tone, and you squeeze his hand in reassurance. Are you ok? Yes and no. You’re nervous, anxious, and so full of an emotion you can’t name that you feel like you’re going to burst.

“I’m pregnant.” The words fall loosely from your mouth. You watch his expression - eyes widening almost imperceptibly. A short breath leaves his lips.

“Pregnant,” he repeats, almost as if in disbelief. You nod. Tears prick the edge of your vision, and you’re not sure why. Hormones, maybe?

He glances down at your bare abdomen. Removing a glove, he places his palm over you, warmth emanating from his skin into yours. The two of you stay like that for several silent minutes.

“A baby,” he murmurs, and there’s so much awe in how he says it. “Our baby. You’re pregnant.” He looks up at you, and you see the loving determination in his gaze. It makes you feel braver.

“I don’t know how to be a parent,” you confess, looking for support. Din’s eyes soften, and he kisses your lips, the tip of your nose, and the sides of your eyes where tears glisten.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he promises.

—

News of your pregnancy is slow to travel. It’s several months before you start to show noticeably - several months before you can no longer get away with wearing baggier and baggier clothes to cover it up.

It starts with low murmurs in the palace. Idle mumbles of congratulations, which you smile at and hurry past. It’s not that you aren’t happy or excited - sometimes it feels like your heart is going to burst from it all - but you’re nervous. Having a baby is a big deal. Having the Mand’alor’s baby is an even bigger deal.

Din is your constant shadow, unwilling to leave you alone or unguarded for any amount of time. When he absolutely can’t be at your side, he assigns his most loyal and highly trained guards to escort you.

After one incident when a guard doesn’t even let you open a jar yourself, you snap. That evening you sit your husband down and explain that you aren’t helpless and that while you appreciate the concern, it’s becoming more of a nuisance than a help.

Those big brown eyes look up at you forlornly. He agrees to tone it down, pulling you closer by the waist. He kisses the growing swell of your stomach through your linen shift as you pat his soft hair lovingly. You can’t stay mad at him.

The midwives had told you that it would be normal for you to experience an increased libido as time went on. However, it was Din who was becoming more and more insatiable with each passing day. Whether it was lathing over your breasts or buried between your legs, there was scarcely a night where his mouth wasn’t on you somewhere.

Din murmurs idolization into your stomach, and you bite your lip at the feeling of his scruff on your sensitive skin. Laying you back on the bed, he spreads your legs open and kisses softly from the summit of your bump down to where you’re swollen and waiting for him. He has you coming undone with just a few wide laps of his tongue, praising you the whole while.

He tells you how good you taste, and how sensitive you are to his touches. You feel like a goddess being worshipped with how he revels in your changing body.

It helps you on the days you feel detached from yourself. You examine yourself in the full-length mirror, propped up in your closet. Pulling your top up, you cup your round stomach with both hands, turning to view yourself from a side angle.

Din finds you there, brows furrowed in thought. “Everything all right?” He asks.

“I don’t recognize myself,” you murmur. As your body changes, you struggle with seeing yourself in your reflection. It’s made worse by people commenting on how you look - how big you’re getting or how the way your stomach sits means you’re carrying a boy or a girl or whatever other wives’ tales people come up with. You’ve taken to avoiding the court as much as possible as your due date draws nearer.

Din comes up behind you and places his hands over yours, thumbs stroking lovingly over your soft skin. He places his chin on your shoulder, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You lean your head against his.

“I see a woman carrying my child,” he soothes. “A woman who grows more beautiful by the day.” He places a soft kiss to your hair, and you give him a small smile.

—

Something happens on the southern continent, something that his military advisors say requires Din’s attention. At first, he refuses to go, citing your nearing due date.

“Just go,” you insist. “We’ve got a few weeks left. You’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’d never forgive myself if I missed the birth of our child,” he presses. “If I wasn’t there at your side.”

“I’ll hold it in,” you counter, and that gets a huff and a smirk from him.

He grumbles but acquiesces. You wish him good luck and tell him you love him, watching him and Grogu take off in his starfighter.

You waddle back to your chambers, looking forward to getting off your feet. Everything aches recently, and resting in your soft bed surrounded by an ever-increasing mountain of pillows is all that soothes you. Din had teased you about it, feigning exasperation at his disappearing real estate, but dutifully fetched you more and more pillows.

You wince at a sharp pain in your back. It’s nothing to be concerned about, you tell yourself. You’ve got all kinds of pain, in more than just your back. It would be ridiculous if you went into labor the same hour Din left the city -

Another sharp pain and you start to feel clammy. Something feels wrong, innately wrong. The pain doesn’t dissipate, and you have to sit down on a window ledge before your legs give out.

You tap on your wrist communicator, sending a message to the med droid and midwife with your location.

There’s a dampness between your legs. Did your water break? You can’t see past your stomach, so you reach down to touch and feel faint when your hand comes back smeared in blood.

“No no no,” you mumble. “Not yet, please not yet - not right now, your father’s not here.”

Another roll of pain is the only answer, and you choke back a cry. The last thing you remember before your vision goes black is the hurried drone of the med droid arriving, and being lifted in strong, familiar arms.

You come to in a private med bay as Din lays you down carefully. He snaps at the med droid trying to squeeze in next to him, and the midwife snaps back at him and tells him that, Mand’alor or no, if he wants to stay he has to move so they can do their job.

He moves to kneel next to the bed, moving your hair out of your face gently. You sigh as the midwife injects you with something that begins to make the terrible pain subside.

“How are you here?” You murmur, turning your head to look at Din. His eyes are wide, and you can see fear in the way he searches your face.

“Grogu,” he whispers. “He started to cry, and I just - I had a really bad feeling.”

“Hush now,” the midwife announced. You looked up at her helmeted face. “You need to save your energy, young warrior.”

“M’not a warrior,” you choke out.

“You are,” the stern woman insisted. “In our culture, childbirth is conceptually equivalent to battle. You are going to fight and struggle as you labor to bring your child into this world, and if you are to emerge victorious you will need all of your strength.”

A deep ache gets past whatever pain reliever you have in your system, and you curl up with a low groan. Your hand dashes out to grab Din’s, and you clench it hard as the contraction rolls through you.

“You can do this,” your husband says firmly. “I am here with you, my love.”

It’s not a quick birth. The midwife says something about complications, but you can barely think through the pain and the instinctual need for your body to just push. Din does not leave your side for a moment through the entire process, which lasts well into the night.

At last, your screams are answered by the wail of your daughter as she enters this world, and you collapse back onto the sheets. She’s placed, wet and screaming on your chest, and you barely have a chance to croak out a ‘hello’ before your vision goes black again. —

Low murmuring, like a lullaby, draws you from your sleep. Your eyes open slowly, vision blurry, and you see a broad figure sitting next to you holding a bundle of blankets in their arms.

You shift, getting the attention of your husband. Din looks up at you, a gentle smile on his curved lips. He glances back down at the bundle. There’s adoration in the way his eyes shine, like nothing you’ve ever seen from him before.

“Your mother’s awake, little one,” he hushes. You blink, trying to break out of your hazy mindset. “Would you like to try meeting her again?”

He moves carefully toward you and settles next to you on the bed. You sit up, eyes wide and curious, eager to see the face of the child you’d been carrying for all these months.

She’s asleep, and you’re delighted to see that her lips pout the same way Din’s do. She has a tuft of dark hair, and ten perfect little fingers and toes.

“Hello,” you whisper. “Hello, Rila.” Din leans over and transfers your daughter into your waiting arms, wrapping his arms around the both of you and holding you close.

“She’s beautiful,” you say dreamily. Din presses a soft kiss to your hair.

“Like her mother,” he agrees. You glance up at him, a watery smile on your lips.

Rila yawns, and blinks, and your heart sings when you realize that she does have her father’s eyes.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #din djarin #the mandalorian

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misc-obeyme · 4 months

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Tbh CC, I don't think MC is still in love with the brothers after everything that's happened,,, thinking about it, it feels more and more like MC is just putting up with the brothers and taking care of them rather than loving them

Imagine MC admitting their love for the brothers died a long time ago and now they're just here to keep things in check, what do you think would happen?

Oh hey Lucifer, bringing me the angst today I see! Ouchies!

I think it probably depends on the MC involved. Generic OM MC is highly tolerant, slightly crazy, and somehow insanely resilient. They've definitely been through a lot and I think it's interesting to note that they have never once had any kind of emotional breakdown. They've had little outbursts here and there, but that's about it.

I think part of this is due to the story format. We've got a situation where MC is a character that doesn't say or do much. They're very reactionary in general.

But if we consider how this same story might go if it was a specific MC, one who was a fully fleshed out character, things can change dramatically. And there is absolutely a chance that MC could fall out of love with the brothers or even not fall in love with them to begin with.

It's kinda funny because I have a preference for the side characters in general and I think it's because they don't need MC to take care of them. The brothers are all very demanding and don't like when MC isn't with them all the time. But the side characters have their own stuff going on and are independent. They're all still hopelessly in love with MC, but they don't rely on MC the same way the brothers do.

But let's consider the scenario where one day MC has reached their limit. They don't explode or anything, but they quietly admit that their love has died and they only stick around out of obligation.

The thing about this is that I think all the brothers would have picked up on it before this moment, but some of them wouldn't know what was happening and others would. For instance, I see Lucifer and Asmo just sorta being like yeah we expected this. Whereas Mammon and Levi would be like okay we knew something was up, but we didn't think it was this!

I think at that point, the brothers would do all they could to change things. They can all be idiots and they get carried away and often cause MC more stress than anything. But I think if they knew how MC felt, that they were feeling this way, they would try to change.

It might not work. These demons are old and old people are often set in their ways. It might be hard for them to change. Then again, they were also created to live as long as they do, so perhaps they're better at adapting than humans are. Maybe they would find it isn't so hard for them to make the changes they need to in order to have MC be more comfortable again.

The problem is that even if they succeed in changing their behaviors, that doesn't mean MC will love them again. No matter what the brothers do, MC won't be able to make themselves love again. It's not impossible, but it's not something that's predictable, either.

I think part of the solution would be MC spending time away from them. Whether that's staying in the Devildom, but living somewhere else such as the castle or Purgatory Hall or going back to the human world, I think it would require some time apart.

I think a lot of times people fall out of love because they change in different directions. So if MC has changed, but the brothers haven't, that could be the cause. It could be that MC and the brothers have both changed, but differently enough that they no longer have that same chemistry from before. And sometimes you just can't fix it.

MC would have to make their choice at that point. If they all spent some time apart, then the brothers actively tried to change, but MC still finds that they aren't in love with them anymore, then MC has to decide. They have to decide if it's worth spending the rest of their life taking care of a bunch of demons who have already managed to survive a long time without them and who will likely live on far after they're gone. If MC is still mortal, they may decide they don't have time for that. Maybe they'll permanently move in to the castle or Purgatory Hall. I think that has a lot of angst potential because they'd still see the brothers a lot, but it'd be like there go my seven exes lol.

Ahhh it's such a sad scenario! And there are a lot of ways it could go, depending on the MC involved. My MC is more likely to lose their shit way before it ever got to this point so I can't even imagine it with them lol. But a quieter MC who feels the responsibility of being everything the demons expect them to be might certainly stick around long enough.

Anyway, this is getting lengthy, but I think it'd be a difficult time for all if this happened. The brothers might try to fix things, but I think in the end everybody would want MC to make the right choice for themselves.

#it's hard not to complain about the story itself #because I think MC would absolutely have had some kind of break down by now #considering all the nonsense they've constantly had to go through #but it's always leave it to me! and let me do the nice thing! and only occasionally I'm gonna break this door down!#anyway #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #avatar0fpr1de #cc mutuals #misc answers

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gaycentral · 3 months

Text

Polar Opposites

In which Spencer Reid meets a masked vigilante with strange abilities, and he doesn’t realize he’s talking to his colleague.

Part One of ?

Virginia was a pretty safe place, all things concerned. Most of the BAU’s cases required them flying out of state, with the rare case in their own backyard. But that didn’t mean crime was nonexistent. He’d noticed it had gotten worse the last few years. Nothing outrageously bad that would end up crossing JJ’s desk, but more people were reporting thefts and burglaries and assaults.

It made him nervous whenever he walked the streets, he wasn’t exactly an intimidating presence, he would be an easy target. He didn’t like carrying his gun around when he was off work, and his physique—as Morgan had once phrased it with an affectionate lilt to his voice, was wet noodle-like. As much as he wanted to be insulted by that statement, Spencer knew it wasn’t far off.

So he wasn’t exactly surprised when one night, during a late-night dinner run after coming back from a week long case, two guys who were visibly stronger than him pulled guns on him. He was terrified, but not shocked.

He dropped the bag he was holding that contained his dinner, hands raising immediately in surrender as his mind flashed to every time he’d had a weapon held to him in a way that made his throat go dry.

“Wallet. Now.” The older of the two spoke, his voice rough, mouth curled into a snarl. The younger seemed slightly less confident, but he held the gun without so much as a tremor.

“Okay…okay.” Spencer slowly reached for his pocket, his hands fumbling with anxiety and he could see the older man growing irritated.

“Get your fucking wallet out!” He’d stepped forward, pulling back the hammer of the gun and Spencer wanted to puke.

“I am!” Spencer squeaked. “I’m trying!”

That only served to anger his assailants more, and the older man lunged forward at him, and Spencer feared for a moment that this was it, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation of the worst.

The sound of a fist meeting flesh echoed throughout the street, but Spencer felt nothing. Cracking his eyes open, brow furrowed in bewilderment, he was met with a sight he certainly hadn’t expected.

A masked stranger had punched the older attacker, sending him collapsing to the pavement and clutching his jaw, his gun lying several feet away.

“What did this poor man ever do to you, huh?” The voice wasn’t any he had heard before, but it sounded familiar in a way that nagged at his mind. He couldn’t discern if the voice belonged to a man or a woman, settling somewhere in the middle in an eerily easy fashion.

As the younger assailants hand began to tremble, gun aimed at Spencer’s rescuer, the masked person tutted disapprovingly.

“What is it with the guns?” The voice was exasperated, and before anyone could process what had happened, the gun was in their hands being unloaded while the younger assailant was clutching his nose on the ground.

“I bet you don’t even have a license for these.” The masked stranger tossed the unloaded gun and magazine aside, before grabbing something from the belt tightened firmly around their hips.

“Now, I can’t let you boys just walk away. You held a gun to this nice gentleman behind me. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. Just gotta keep you in place, you know how it is.” Whatever the object was in the strangers hand, it glowed a brilliant pink in the night.

Spencer watched in a mix of wonderment and confusion as the stranger threw the pink object at the would-be muggers. It exploded, strings of what looked like pink…goo? Covered the muggers, wrapping around them like insects trapped in a spiders web.

The masked stranger finally turned to Spencer, ignoring the frightened shouts of the struggling men. They knelt down, grabbing the plastic bag off the ground before handing it to him. “Your stuff still okay?”

Spencer stared at him, opening and closing his mouth a few times while he attempted to say something, anything. He finally peered into the bag, and his food didn’t look too jostled.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah.” His voice was higher than he would’ve liked, and if he wasn’t so shaken he would’ve cringed at how he sounded.

“Next time,” the masked stranger looked back at the assailants before looking back at him. “Just throw your wallet and run. You can always get new cards.”

Spencer nodded dumbly. “Yes…I should, uh, do that. I knew that. I don’t know why I didn’t do it.” He felt…embarrassed in front of this stranger, like he wanted to seek cool even though they’d never met and he’d likely never see them again. They patted his shoulder reassuringly and he knew he wasn’t cool at all.

“Don’t worry too much about it. Most people panic. Take care of yourself, yeah?”

Spencer nodded again, watching as the masked stranger disappeared into the darkness, just in time for the red and blue of police lights to grow closer as sirens echoed through the air.

Spencer had been wrong though. He would see them again. Sooner than he thought.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #series #part one #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff

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whorediaries-09 · 27 days

Text

the wound won't close

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort. a/n- it's about you fell in love with something that loves you back and that my friend is sirius black 🗣️🗣️

little train. series masterlist.

remus slid a plate of pancakes across the table, along with a big old cup of sirius' personal poison-the earl gray. the cup is brightly maroon, chipped from the edges as it touches his lips. sirius takes a small sip, letting the liquid burn down his throat.

'you still got it.' sirius chuckles. remus bemused, scoffs. he slides his long fingers into his sandy locks before answering.

'eat. put some flesh within your madness.'

'well you'd know all about the madness within the flesh, wouldn't you?' he says.

'you never came, sirius. the letter. i showed up and stayed there for about two hours, waiting for you.' sirius gulps before answering him.

'i ended up into a pub. i don't know why or how, but i did. the question is how did you get here?' remus moves his lips to answer, but when you enter the room, coddling with the little owl perched on your shoulder, he thinks better of it.

'he is asking me how i came here.' the owl nips at your ear before flapping it's wings and sitting beside sirius' plate, taking away little nibbles from his pancakes.

'well... i'm working on trying to justify the prejudice against half-breeds. i can't directly do it since i don't have the position in the ministry to, but for that i need a few statements. remus is the only werewolf i knew so.. well i've been in contact with him. that is basically the root of why me and remus know each other.'

'so you're just an angel from heaven.' sirius replies, taking another bite.

'i don't care who is who, padfoot. i need to know what happened.'

'james made peter the secret-keeper the last moment, upon my wishes. he faked his own death to frame me for the murders he committed. the bastard cut off his own finger-apparently the only thing they found from that night.'

'so you're not to blame?'

'no. you know i'd rather die than kill james! he was my family!' he exclaimed. he dropped the fork onto the plate.

'you know, i suspected you to the spy' he whispered, almost ashamed. you could see blood rush underneath his pale skin as tears welled into his eyes. the thought of getting back an old friend was of great joy to him. the thought of not being lonely again was hauntingly beautiful.

'you look like you're about to pass out, sweetheart.' sirius commented, huffing on your state. your papers were spread across the table, your hands stained with ink as you went through the necessary documents. remus had already left for home, leaving you to nurture for him. sirius had taken a nap after his breakfast, leaving you with enough time to sit alone with your thoughts.

'i know.' you replied. with tired limbs, your stretched your aching body. having sleepless nights wasn't of much absurdity to you. you'd spent endless of sleep less nights practicing your spells to be at the position you were. to be an auror at twenty four wasn't something of a joke, yet you'd managed to do it just the same.

even if that meant losing friends and family.

'what are you doing anyway?' he asked. he walked around the table, sitting in front of you. he was carrying a dark blue cup, steam pouring out the rim.

'i'm looking over the things i require and how many people's shoes i have to lick to change a few laws,' you answered, your eyes averting to his form as you answered. his loose linen white shirt was unbuttoned, revealing an intricate design of tattoos on his chest. black sweatpants hung on narrow hips. you could see tattoos emerging from the expanse of the skin on his legs too.

'are you feeling better now?' you asked, collecting your spread out sheets in an orderly fashion. sirius nodded.

'i am, thanks to you and moony.' you packed your things into your bag, handing him a little piece of paper.

'here's my address, sirius. if you need me, you can write to me. your owl will find me'

'are you leaving now?' he asked, looking at the piece of paper tucked into his palm.

'yes.' you said. a brief moment of sadness flashed on his face before he quipped you with another request.

'stay, you're tired.'

'no, i...i'm not' you answered, trying to stifle a yawn half way through your statement. it leaves your lips anyways. he smiles, in a comforting manner, as he rests his face on his palm.

'you're a pathetic liar,' he states, 'you can rest here as long as you want to. i have a free room down the hall.' nervously, you rub the back of your head, trying to avoid the burning gaze upon you.

'that would be of major inconvenience-i don't think-' before you realize, has his index finger on your lips. how he got up from the chair to be standing in front of you with such fast agility was a mystery.

'it is not of any inconvenience, i assure you. it's an extra room! for guests! you're a guest aren't you?' he said. you couldn't quite meet his eyes, afraid you'd be lost in the depth of them.

'i- uh- you're hungover-'

'sweetheart, look me in the eye and tell me if i'm hungover.' he said, sliding a finger under your jaw. you looked into his eyes, trying not to get lost in them.

'i- okay you win. i'll rest,'

'see, i told you! you should listen to me more often.' that earned a tired laughter out of you.

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original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

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