#I don't think I needed to use your name much

[nephynes]

Jay calls you “baby” like a threat. Heeseung fucks you like he hates you. You say you’re confused, but you’ve got both of them on their knees and still keep the door open. Someone should stop you, too bad they’re both in love with the wreckage.

➺ minors do not interact

➺ pairing: jay x afab reader x heeseung

➺ wc: 12k

➺ content tags: SMUT, toxic relationship, manipulative behavior, possessive ex, jealousy, dubcon undertones, emotional whiplash, angst, degradation, praise, emotional manipulation, hurt/comfort, power imbalance, obsessive love, heartbreak, crying during sex, coercion, unprotected sex, unresolved feelings, blurred boundaries, rough sex, aftercare (questionable), guilt, shame, self-worth issues, eroticism as control, reader with poor coping mechanisms, kind of a self righteous slut, complicated ex, trauma bonding, spiraling emotions, unhealthy attachment. NOT PROOFREAD.

➺ a/n: going against all tumblr protocols/norms and posting fics without wips or teasers, let’s consider this my comeback after taking so many BEATINGS. i wrote this with like zero emotional stability and no moral compass whatsoever and i wrote the ending with so much anxiety about my work, i feel so insecure about it but whatever. enjoyyyy and block your ex! reblog and heeseung will appear in your dream calling you angel face

➺ nsfw warnings under the cut

oral (f receiving), rough sex, degradation, threesome, double penetration, hair pulling, mean dom!heeseung, kind of switch!jay, crying during sex, jealousy sex, handjobs, manipulation kink (implied), ass play, saliva for lube (lots of it), power play, coercion themes, sub!reader, possessive behavior, humiliation, slut shaming (not corrected), multiple partners, use of pet names, hand over mouth, spanking, forced positioning, reader cries but doesn’t stop. let me know if i missed any.

Jay's room always smells like wood smoke and something mixed with his cologne and boy musk, but you've grown way too used to it over the years. You're currently stretched out across his bed with your laptop propped against your thighs and your phone in your hand, hovering a finger over a barely there lace slip in your shopping cart. "Is it too much?" you ask, turning the screen toward him.

He barely glances up from where he's messing with his journal on his desk. "It's basically dental floss. You should get it." You snort, clicking to add it to your cart. "How supportive."

Jay turns then, walking back over with a bottle of water in hand, eyes flicking toward the screen like he's expecting more lingerie picks. He drops down beside you, one knee brushing yours, lazy and comfortable and way too familiar.

You scroll through another site, mindlessly showing him crop tops and overpriced boots. He makes stupid little comments until eventually, you lean across him to grab your charger from the nightstand beside him and your tank top slips. Just slightly thin straps sliding down your shoulder, fabric dipping lower than you meant to but it's enough for him to see them. The darkened, wine colored shadows blooming along the swell of your breasts, stark against your skin.

He goes still and you don't even notice at first, you’re too busy trying to untangle the cable, but Jay reaches without asking, curling his fingers under your strap and tugging it down a little more, his eyes sharpening. "You let him mark you up like that? Heeseung?"

You frown a little, brows raising as you glance down at where his hand is still lingering so close to your breast. Then you swat him away, annoyed. "No, Jay. The fucking tooth fairy. Who do you think?"

He doesn't laugh like you assumed he would. He leans back against the headboard, jaw tense, tongue poking the inside of his cheek like he's chewing on something he won't say. You can feel his stare, heavy and unreadable.

You roll your eyes defiantly and turn the screen back to yourself. "I didn't realize I needed to send you a memo every time I get fucked."

Jay scoffs out dry and humorless. "Guess not," he says, "just didn't think you'd still go back to him." He glances at you. "What? I didn't meet up to his standards?"

That makes you snap your head toward him. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That thing. Where you act like I owe you something."

Jay laughs low under his breath. "You don't owe me shit," he says, "but maybe you could admit you liked it."

You go quiet. Just long enough for him to know he's hit a nerve and now he looks smug, but not in a gloating way, it’s in that I know what gets under your skin and I'm going to sit there and rot it out kind of way. He shifts a little closer, gaze lingering too long on your collarbone.

"You're said we were just having fun," you say, stiff.

Jay grins. "I did."

You don't know what pisses you off more—his smile, or the fact that part of you wanted to hear something else.

You open your mouth to say something, maybe something catty but the buzzing of your phone on his bed interrupts you.

What shitty timing, you think as Heeseung's name flashes across your screen, loud and abrupt in the quiet lull after Jay's last comment. His lips curl in amusement, and he lets out this mocking laugh, like of course it's him. "Speak of the devil," he mutters.

You want to melt into the floor or throw your phone out the window, but instead you sit frozen, watching the screen pulse with Heeseung's name.

Then it goes silent—only for a text to flash up a second later.

Heeseung: you coming or not?

Jay hums, mean. "Such a romantic."

Your stomach drops as he reaches for your phone. "Jay—don't," you snap, lunging forward, but he catches your wrist easily, holding the phone up and out of reach with a bored flick of his hand. You try to grab it with your free hand, but he's quicker, suddenly twisting you around with too much ease, like he knows every way you move. In one slick move, he tosses your phone across the room and catches your arm behind your back, pinning you on the bed.

"Jay!" you gasp, twisting under him.

He leans over you, lips brushing your ear. "You were really about to go crawling back to him again?" His voice is soft but razor-sharp. "After everything he's done?"

His thigh slides between yours, pining you in place. His grip on your wrist tightens a little and you can feel his warm steady breath against your cheek. "Is that what you like?" His voice is rough now. "Being treated like a fucking afterthought."

You try to twist away from him, to say something, but he turns you over and kisses you before you can, with brute force and possession. You can feel the frustration radiating off him as he swallows the sound of your protest. Your heart rate increases and you hate how quickly your body turns against you, how familiar it feels, how much worse it makes it, the fact that it's Jay. The one person who's always known how to get under your skin.

"I just didn't think you were still that easy," he says lowly, right at your ear. "Still letting him fuck you like you mean nothing."

The words sting somewhere deep in you. You try to jerk away from him, but his hand doesn't move. "That's all he does, isn't it?" Jay adds, almost casual. "Fuck you and leave. And you run back like some good little pet."

Your heart's racing faster now and you’re trying to twist harder in his grip.

But he cuts you off by pressing in, his lips brushing your jaw in a cold and measured contact. "You let him treat you like that. But I'm the one you keep in your bed?" He asks. "Don't think that's fair."

You're too stunned to respond and he knows it. Jay releases you just as suddenly as he grabbed you, pulling away like it didn't mean anything, like he hadn't just shifted the air in the room.

He doesn't even apologize, he just watches you with that stoic look in his eyes, waiting to see what you'll do next. His eyes never leaving yours, even as he stands up from the bed.

You're panting, chest rising and falling as you sit back up on the bed, glaring at his retreating figure. He's already halfway across the room, calm like nothing happened, when he says, too offhandedly, "Your mom called me."

You frown, confused. "What?"

He looks at you. "Said you haven't been eating."

Your stomach twists and you shoot up to your feet, face hot with frustration. "You bring that up now?" you snap, breath catching in your throat. "Seriously?"

Jay just shrugs like he doesn't see why you're upset, like it's just another data point he's sliding across the table. "I'm just trying to show you what he does to you," he says simply.

Your jaw clenches. "Don't blame Heeseung for that," you bite out, angrier now. "I had issues with food way before him. You know that."

There's a pause and the air in the room feels way too heavy for how quiet it is.

He doesn't argue this time, he just flops on the bed again and says, "Come here."

You don't move at first, you shouldn't move—in fact you should get your shit and leave his apartment. But his voice is soft and smooth and too familiar, like a trigger your body's been unfortunately conditioned to obey.

You go, as if something tugs you forward, your legs moving even without your consent.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed by the time you reach him, and without asking or saying a word, he takes your wrists and pulls you into his lap, guiding your thighs to straddle him.

You settle there, shaky and annoyed, but too used to the way this goes to resist. His hands settle on your hips, holding you there. "I’m not the problem." he says, looking up at you. "I'm the one who cares, baby."

You stare back at him. At his straight face. At the boy who always knows exactly when to twist the knife.

You don't answer him right away.

Because all you can think of is how this whole fucked up thing between you and Jay didn't even start with care. Not really.

It started with rage.

Two nights after your third breakup with Heeseung.

You'd shown up to Jay's apartment with mascara bleeding under your eyes, your hoodie sleeves pulled over trembling fingers, and that look you always wore when you were ready to swear Heeseung off for good.

Jay didn't say a word when he opened the door. Just stepped aside and let you in. You stormed past him, fuming, fists clenched like you wanted to punch something.

"I'm done," you'd said. "This time I mean it. He can fuck himself—he can rot."

Jay had nodded, slow. "So he said it again."

You broke. Right there on his couch. Hot, angry tears spilled down your cheeks, your voice cracking with how bitter it all tasted. You told Jay everything. What Heeseung said, even what he didn't say and how he always knew just how to keep you hooked.

Jay sat there the whole time—legs spread, arms resting over the back of the couch, like he was soaking it in.

And then he leaned forward, pressing a hand to your thigh. "Let me help." His voice was quiet, measured even. "I could make you feel better? Or…forget?"

You didn't really know what he meant until he dropped to his knees. You definitely didn’t expect the way he grabbed you by the hips, dragged you down until your back hit the cushions of his couch. You didn't expect how gentle he was when he peeled your sweats down, your underwear off. How he kissed the insides of your thighs like they were bruises only he could soothe.

How he said—"Just let me do this. You don't have to think."

And you didn't think, in fact you couldn’t. His mouth was too good—hot, slow and sinful, tongue fucking into your soaked pussy like he was trying to reclaim every inch of you Heeseung had tainted. He moaned when you gripped his hair, when you cried out, "Jay—Jay, I'm—"

You came with your fists in his hair and your mouth slack from the shock of it, thighs shuddering where he’d placed them over his shoulders. You'd never cum like that before, not even with Heeseung.

He just looked up at you, lips wet, expressionless. "Feel better?" he'd asked.

You could barely nod.

But that was how it started and how it didn't stop.

After that night, you kept coming back. You told yourself it was casual, just a physical thing to get your mind off your ex. Jay never made a big deal about any of it, never even asked for more.

Until he found out you'd gone back to Heeseung.

He didn't yell or sulk that day. He just looked at you one morning while you were still naked in his sheets, and said, "So you let him fuck you again?"

You froze, mind scrambling for a lie to give him, but nothing came out.

He didn't press further or accuse you of anything. He stared at the ceiling and muttered, almost to himself,

"I didn't realize you liked crawling back to someone who doesn't even pretend to care about you."

And then he got out of bed.

He didn't touch you for two weeks after that. Not until you caved and showed up at his door at 1am, asking if he hated you. He just gave you that same look and pulled you into his lap like always.

Jay never needed to yell, he only needed you to come back. And somehow you always did.

The memories fade, but Jay's mattress is still beneath your knees and his hands are still coasting lazily over the backs of your thighs, because to him he's always had the right to touch you. He's moved up against the headboard now, taking you with him, dark hair messy from where you yanked it earlier. His eyes pin you in place with calm surface to them but cold calculations rippling underneath.

His thumbs press just above the curve of your hips.

"Promise me you're done with him."

It isn't a question, it's merely a line in the sand. No heat, no coaxing, just the terms of staying right here. Your mouth parts, but no sound comes out. Jay lifts one brow, waiting.

"I...can try," you whisper, hating how small it sounds.

He shakes his head once. "Not good enough." Followed by a slow inhale, an almost disappointed one. "I've cut off half the girls I see for you—stopped answering DMs, stopped returning calls. You know that."

You do and part of you was always stupidly flattered every time a name disappeared from his phone.

Jay's fingers slide under the hem of your tank, thumbs brushing skin. "So here's what you're gonna do." His voice stays level, matter of fact, with nothing pleading or cruel. "You're going to block him. Delete the number. The next time he wants someone to fuck when he's bored, he can call literally anyone else."

You swallow, feeling the air too thick in your chest.

"Say it," he demands, eyes never leaving yours. "Promise me."

You despise your pulse for fluttering and that it feels like gravity tilting the room. But all you manage is a small nod and a softer, "Okay...I promise."

Something in his jaw unclenches as his palms slide up your sides, settling possessively at your ribcage. "Good girl," he says, and it isn't praise so much as confirmation that you've aligned yourself correctly. His hands guide you down until your chest brushes his. "Keep me happy," he adds, voice almost gentle, "and I'll keep making you forget why he ever mattered."

Your eyes flutter shut, equal parts relief and dread. You want to keep him happy. God, you do. Even if it means burning every other bridge until only Jay's hands are left to catch you.

So you kiss him, seal the promise on his tongue, and try not to notice how pleased he sounds when you sigh into his mouth—like he's already sure you'll never break your word.

He laughs into your mouth condescendingly, like he's entertained by you and it knocks the rhythm right out of your kiss.

"Fuck," he murmurs when you bite down on his bottom lip, his hand tightening briefly at your waist. But it's still followed by a chuckle, smug, cruel and lazy. "You're so eager now. Look at you."

You grind down on him, hips shifting instinctively, desperate to make a point, but it only makes him laugh harder. "Aww." He tilts his head, voice thick with derision. "Look who thinks she knows how to ride now."

Your stomach flips as you feel the heat of shame curling with arousal prickling up your neck.

"So precious," he keeps going, hand dragging down the small of your back, right over the curve of your ass. "You kiss like you're starving, but your hips still falters every time."

"Shut up," you mutter, breathless, but it comes out whinier than you want.

"Oh, now you're embarrassed?" His smile sharpens. "Didn't seem so shy when you were humping me just now."

You shove at his chest, but his hands only tighten, grounding you in place, locking your body against his.

"Go ahead," he says, softly now, teeth grazing the underside of your jaw. "Get mad, but prove me wrong, baby. Show me you finally learned how to fuck me properly."

And fuck—he knows exactly what he's doing. His voice, his words, his mouth, all of it designed to crack you open. He drags the shame, defiance and desire out of you like he's mining for gold.

Your hands shake a little where they press to his chest.

But you roll your hips anyway.

Because God help you, you do want to prove him wrong. But when he doesn't move you nearly falter like he predicted, he doesn't help you or even touch you, he's leaned back against the headboard, arms spread uselessly beside your knees, his expression deadpan but his eyes locked on you with sharp, dark, and maddening patience.

You're the one shifting on top of him, dragging your skirt up around your hips with trembling fingers, your breathing shaky as you tug your panties to the side yourself. He doesn't make a sound, not even when you reach down between the two of you to palm him through his sweats, trying to coax his cock hard.

Still, he just watches. You're a private show, meant only for him. Not someone he's touching, but someone he's witnessing, every breath and movement is a performance he can't tear his eyes from.

His dick twitches in your hand, slowly filling, but he gives no reaction—not a moan, not a sigh, not even a shift of his hips. Just that steady gaze that makes your skin burn.

"You won’t help me?" you whisper, a little breathless.

He shrugs, that same frustrating smirk on his lips. "Thought you were trying to prove you could ride me good now."

You glare at him, fingers curling tighter around the base of his cock. You stroke him a little rougher than necessary, but he only raises a brow like he dares you to keep going.

"Come on," he murmurs, voice low, goading. "Figure it out. You wanted to be the one in control, didn't you?"

You press your lips together, swallowing a shaky breath as you line him up, lowering yourself slowly on the thickness of him and shaking just slightly, fingers clutching his shoulders for balance.

You gasp as the bulbous head of his cock slips in. But he just watches quietly like he’s waiting.

And somehow, to you that's worse than anything he could've even said.

You're whimpering, trying to take more of him rolling your hips just right, moving slow and deliberate like you think he wants. Like you hope he wants.

Your hands brace on his chest, your thighs burning already, and you move with every ounce of desperation you can muster—arching your back, biting your lip, trying to look as sexy and confident as you can manage.

But inside, it's sheer panic. Because you know what Jay could have, you know all the other girls he's brushed off for you. All the girls who would've killed to be in your place, bouncing perfectly in his lap, earning his soft praises and smug grins.

What if one of them would've been better? What if you're just…forgettable?

The jealousy twists sharp in your gut. And the need to matter and to mean something to Jay pushes you harder. You grind your hips down with more focus, swiveling just right, clenching around him tight and desperate.

And it finally pulls a real moan from him. It seems so raw and almost involuntary, but your heart stutters in your chest anyway.

You look down at him through your lashes, still rocking your hips, barely breathing. "Am I..." Your voice is shaky. "...doing good?"

Jay's eyes lift to meet yours—half-lidded and blown black, finally trailing his hand up to rest on your waist, not guiding you yet, just holding.

He exhales slowly, like the sight of you ruins him.

"So good," he croons. "So fucking good, baby."

And like that, you feel your whole body light up with relief, pride and maybe even power. Like maybe you’re finally enough for him.

His fingers suddenly tighten around your waist, and without warning he starts moving you himself, bouncing you harder on his cock. It’s not gentle or kind like you had hoped it would be when you’d asked him to help you. No, Jay is using his strength like it's second nature, like he's been waiting for you to tire out just so he could take over.

Your breath punches out of your lungs when your hips are dragged down hard, the thick length of his throbbing cock pushing in deeper than you'd dared to go on your own.

"Jay—!" you cry out, head snapping back, thighs trembling. But he's already covering your mouth with one large palm.

"Shhh," he breathes, lips brushing your cheek as he leans forward. "You're gonna get me a noise complaint, baby."

You can't help the way your eyes roll back, the stretch, the pressure, the depth of him inside you making your body seize with too much sensation. "Mmpfh."

His grip on your waist is absolutely bruising, dragging you down again and again, faster and harder. Your moans go muffled into his hand, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, your body turning to nothing but a puppet in his lap.

And Jay just watches you fall apart with that same infuriating calmness. "Look at you," he mutters. "Didn't even know how to ride it right five minutes ago."

His voice is smug and dirty. "But now? Now you're screaming for it." He says shifting his body a little, just his hands, one still rests at your waist while the other slips off your mouth and between your bodies, fingers seeking out your clit with perfected ease. You gasp when he finds you, the slick sound of your wetness absurd in the quiet of the room.

He presses his thumb just right and you jolt, the sudden pressure driving you dangerously closer to the edge. Your hips start to stutter, rhythm completely lost, but he picks it up for you—gripping your waist and moving you with a strength you'd forgotten he liked to flex. The next thrust is deeper, more brutal, and your head tips back with a cry, body arching into his. "J—ay! Ngh—Y—yes! There! There!"

Jay doesn't let up at all. "You're babbling now," he says, voice like velvet and venom. "What, you getting stupid for me already?"

You try to respond but your mouth won't cooperate, nothing comes out but a broken whine. Your limbs are trembling, your head swimming. He can feel it in the way you're squeezing around him, right on the brink.

Then he leans forward, mouth at your ear, voice a low rasp, "Do it again."

Your whole body slows to the stiff point. You know exactly what he means, exactly what it means and panic flares across your face, just for a second. Then his hand is on your throat, but not to choke you, just guiding you and pressing you gently back down onto the bed. Your back hits the sheets, chest heaving and Jay climbs over you, slow and deliberate, gaze fixed on yours.

You don't have to say a word. He sees the desperate, delirious relief in your eyes now that he’s on top. The smirk that spreads across his face is so mean and satisfied.

"There she is," he whispers, brushing your hair back with mock affection. "Right where you belong."

Then he moves inside you again, and your world splits open. The new angle is different and it’s letting his cock brush something achingly good inside you.

Your mouth opens, forming a silent no, but it's already happening, he's coaxing it out of you with the same rough rhythm, the same maddening meticulousness.

Your body starts to stiffen again as the pressure boils over, and just as you start to panic more. "Relax," he breathes. "Let it happen."

"I said do it again."

Your thighs quake. The wet slap of skin, the slick mess between your bodies—it's so overwhelming, so humiliating, and so perfect.

You choke on a gasp as your orgasm crashes down, blinding and involuntary, and then it happens. You feel it. The heat, the release, the wet flood you tried to hold back.

Jay's eyes light up, fucking triumphant. "Look at the mess you made," he says low, like he's proud of you and taunting you all at once. His hand glides down, wet with you, lifting his soaked fingers to your mouth. "Open."

You do. Of course you do.

He pushes two fingers past your lips, and you suck them obediently, tongue swirling slow even as your chest still heaves from the aftershocks. His eyes darken.

"You like it nasty, don't you?" he mumbles, pulling his hand away with a wet pop, dragging your jaw open with his thumb. "So fucking easy."

He shifts then, the weight of him pressing your legs wider as he strokes himself once, twice, and not gently. He's so hard and even almost angry with it, and it makes you realize he's been holding back, waiting for you to cum first.

He leans forward, teeth at your jaw, whispering, "You want to be used, right? That's what Heeseung doesn't get. You don't need love. You need to be ruined."

Then he pushes deep in again, faster and meaner.

You scream a loud sound you really try to swallow but it comes out anyway.

He doesn't hold back this time, his pace is rougher now, desperate, driven by something darker. He holds your leg up over his shoulder, trying to mark his name into the deepest part of you.

"Fuck," he grits, breath coming hot against your throat. "You're still so wet—squeezing me like you want me to finish inside."

You can't seem to form any sensible thoughts so you just grip his shoulders like a lifeline, head rolling back, another moan choking in your throat.

"Still so tight," he pants, sweat dripping down his temple, his thumb dragging across your spit-slick mouth. "Still...fuck—still letting him fuck you like you're not already mine."

You sob when he shifts your legs higher, deeper now, hitting that spot that makes you claw at the sheets.

"Jay—" it's all you can manage, too far gone to stop him but too full of him to breathe. But it’s not like he's even listening. Not really. He's watching the way you fall apart, as if he's memorizing the proof that he can still undo you this thoroughly.

His hips pulse, the rhythm of them breaking down—he's close. You feel the way his breath goes jagged, the way his arms start to tremble, how his teeth dig into the underside of your jaw before he groans right there, like he's in pain.

"I'm gonna cum," he grits, voice tight. "You want it, don't you?"

You nod frantically, already crying from the sheer overstimulation. He's everywhere—his scent, his voice, the weight of him fucking you into the mattress.

"Say it."

You try, you do really try. "Want it—want you to cum—inside, please, Jay, please—"

And that's what does it for him. He buries his cock inside you to the hilt with a broken sound, hips grinding into you as he cums hard, long and deep, filling you with thick ropes of his cum until you swear you can feel it pooling inside. His whole body jerks, muscles clenching, breath catching at the base of his throat. He stays like that for a long moment, frozen over you, forehead pressed to yours, both of you slick with sweat and sex and something even heavier.

He props himself up on his hands to look down at you when both your breathing slows, but he still doesn’t pull out. He just stares down at you, still inside, his hand sliding up your ribs until it's cradling your jaw.

"Next time you go back to him..." His thumb strokes over your bottom lip. "I'm done with you."

"And if you do...you better make sure I don’t find out."

His voice isn't even loud but it's steady and enough to make your stomach drop. He ignores the look on your face and shifts your panties back in place then gets off you.

Sometime between the kisses he peppered all over your face, the threat and the uber he'd ordered you, Jay had helped you get dressed again, his touch cool and careful, not speaking as he smoothed your hair down and tucked your phone back into your hand like a peace offering.

You're curled up on your bed, thumb hovering over the keyboard of your phone, the half-typed message to Heeseung glowing like a bruise.

you: ok fine. you win. when?

You stare at it too long, not because you're hesitant but because you know you should be. True to your word and your promise to Jay you had deleted Heeseung's number but you hadn't blocked it, and what use was that when you had it memorized.

Jay had looked you in the eye not even an hour ago and basically told you to choose between them. And maybe you'd meant to take it seriously. Maybe.

But then the soft thud against the glass pane of your window that has you blinking and turning you head—changes everything.

And there he is, changing everything. Heeseung.

Climbing through your window like it he would when you first started dating, but it's not with a smile and an embarrassed chuckle like those days, it's with a frown.

He's mad.

You can tell from the second his feet hit your floor, his jaw locked tight, his eyes raking over you with that specific brand of fury only Heeseung has, that’s quiet and cold, but mean under the surface.

His gaze drops to your legs tucked beneath you on the bed, your wrinkled tank, your flushed skin, and something shifts in his expression—tighter, darker.

"Why the fuck didn't you answer my text?" he says, voice low but sharp enough to cut.

You swallow hard. Your phone's still in your hand, the screen glowing with the message you never sent. He sees it.

"I was gonna—"

"Yeah?" He takes a step closer. "You were gonna what?"

You flinch at the heat between your legs cooling too slowly, the sticky ache of Jay still clinging to you. You didn't even shower or change, the drop in serotonin you experienced after leaving Jay's house left you in a rut.

And now Heeseung's standing here, inches away, breathing the same air as you.

He stops beside your bed, looking down at you, and you can't seem to meet his eyes.

Your shame feels loud, you're even scared he can probably smell it on you.

All your fears are validated when he grabs you by the ankle, one strong hand curling around and dragging you down the bed like a ragdoll. You gasp, your phone slipping from your grip as your back hits the mattress edge.

"Don't ignore me," he mutters, but it's distracted now. His hands are already on your thighs, pushing your skirt up. You squirm, legs instinctively snapping shut, but he doesn't allow that, never does. He spreads you open with one rough motion, ready to scold you, tease you, touch you but then he looks between your legs and his hands stop moving.

Your panties are soaked. Still a little askew. You hadn't fixed them right. Hadn't bothered.

You watch his face twist in real time—brows pinching, mouth parting slightly, like he can't seem to believe what he's seeing.

"What the fuck?" he says, low, breathless. "Did you let someone else fuck you?"

Your stomach flips violently. You try to sit up, to cover yourself, to explain, to say something but he grips your inner thigh tighter, forcing you to stay open.

His voice is flat now. "Who was it?"

He blinks at your silence.

And then, without even looking at you, just staring down at the complete mess between your legs, he lets out a laugh. It's not loud, it's not even mean at first, it's actually almost like he's stunned.

"So you're a little slut now, huh?" he whispers.

The word hits you like a punch to the stomach. Your chest caves in a little. Not because of what he said, but because he said it. Heeseung—who's never called you that. Who's always had this unspoken softness for you, even when he was being cruel. Even when he was distant or cold or high out of his mind, he'd never call you out of your name.

"You don't get to say that," you whisper, voice shaking. "We're not even—" You break off, choking on the heat rising in your throat. "We're not together anymore."

"Right," he scoffs, running a hand through his hair. "You just keep my name in your phone. Keep my number on speed dial. Let me fuck you whenever I want. But now suddenly I don't even get to ask?"

"You don't," you snap. Your hands slam into his chest, weakly at first then harder the second time. "Get out. Get the fuck out, Heeseung."

He doesn't budge.

You push him again, as hard as you can, trying to guide him toward the window he so casually crawled through as if things were normal between you two. "You can't just show up here and—and check my fucking underwear—"

That makes him grin. A slow, infuriating grin.

You hate him.

You want to cry.

"You're really throwing a tantrum right now?" he says coolly, dodging your push like it's child's play. He catches both your wrists with one hand, effortlessly holding them in place. "What happened to that little whimpering mess I had in my lap last weekend?"

"Fuck you," you spit, writhing in his grip, breath catching. "You don't get to shame me and then act like you care!"

He just shrugs. "Didn't say I cared."

Then his grip tightens just enough to make you stop squirming. "But I'm not leaving either."

He walks right past you like you're not even standing there, like the argument didn't just happen. He moves with lazy arrogance—shoulders relaxed, hands in his pockets.

You watch, stunned, as he sinks down into your bed, like he's done it a hundred times before. Which in his defense, he has.

He reaches over to your nightstand and picks up your phone. Just grabs it, thumbing through your screen, looking for God knows what, maybe the name of the person he's so sure you fucked earlier.

Your throat is too tight. Your fists clench by your sides, but he doesn't even glance at you, he's sat there, scrolling through your phone and the silence starts to ache.

Then he looks up.

Expression calmer now. "Go shower." He says with a flat and final tone.

You don't move, the twist in your stomach and the ache in your chest from the shame blooming there makes it hard to move. The worst part is that you don't even know if it's from what he said, or the fact that a part of you wants to listen.

"Now," he adds, eyes flicking back down to your phone.

Like you're just some mess he needs to clean up. You do as you're told—of course you do because Heeseung said so.

Your bathroom light is too bright, too exposing. You scrub harder than you need to, the soap scalding your skin as the shame now settles thick in your chest. You clean yourself like you're trying to erase something. Like you can.

What if Jay calls? What if Heeseung picks up?

Your mind races as you step back into the room, wrapped in a towel, your hair dripping, your skin flushed from the too-hot water. Heeseung looks up from where he's sprawled across your sheets and laughs, so casually amused.

"That supposed to impress me?" he asks, gesturing to the towel. "Like rinsing off some other dudes cum suddenly makes you clean?"

"Cute," he says, tilting his head. "You look nervous. Is it guilt or just performance?"

"Don't just stand there," he says after a beat, voice slow like syrup, sliding back into his usual apathy. "You think we're gonna cuddle or something?"

You shift uncomfortably, still frozen in place, clutching your towel.

He finally sits up, rolling his shoulders back, spreading his legs and patting the edge of the bed like he's calling a dog.

And somehow, stupidly, your body moves before your brain tells it not to.

You sit beside him, still shaking a little, heart hammering against the wet towel. You don't look at him, and you wish he couldn't see the panic painted all over your skin.

He doesn't touch you.

Just leans closer, nose grazing your ear, voice flat and low.

"I'm not gonna fuck you in the same hole you just gave another guy." He exhales a soft, sharp breath

You jolt, but his hand grips your waist tight enough to make you shut up and stay still. "You wanna make it up to me?" he says, voice so calm it cuts deeper. "Then get on all fours. Be useful for once."

"You know what I want."

The worst part is that you do know and you feel it breaking something open inside you—something ugly and raw and so, so tired.

But regardless of the tiredness, your body still moves.

Because that's what you've always done when it comes to Heeseung.

He shifts over you, his chest grazing your back, towel slipping as he cages you in. His mouth brushes your shoulder in a slow deliberate kiss, laced with the kind of false tenderness that makes your skin crawl. You shiver, more from the pressure than the heat of it.

Then he reaches around and pushes two fingers between your lips.

"Open up for me, angel face." he says, voice low and close to your ear and when you hesitate, his other hand presses down on your lower back, a clear warning. You part your lips, and he pushes the fingers deeper, right against your tongue. You nearly gag, your cheeks heating with sheer mortification. He doesn't move them until your saliva begins to pool around them.

"That's enough," he says, yanking them out and watching a strand of saliva cling between your lips and his fingers.

Without pause, he brings that spit slick hand behind you, reaching between your ass cheeks, spreading you open.

He coats his cock with the spit lazily, intentionally letting you feel every second of the slow glide of his fingers against you. You flinch when he teases the tight ring of muscle, his voice flattening into something amused.

"What?" he asks, tauntingly innocent. "You gave him your pussy. I'm just working with what's left."

You squeeze your eyes shut, thinking of how his cruelty has never sounded this casual.

"You should be grateful," he continues, positioning himself behind you. "Most guys wouldn't want you after that. But me?"

He chuckles.

"I'll still fuck you."

His hand comes up to your throat in a choke. A reminder, as his hips press in slowly, forcing your body to adjust. Your legs tremble, stretched awkwardly on your knees, hands digging into the mattress. You can barely breathe through the sting, and he hasn't even started moving yet.

"You look so pathetic right now." He says, feeling the way the walls of your asshole spasm around him as he pushes in deeper, hot and slick with your saliva and his precum. "Poor you, helpless and weak. You just take me whenever I show up, uhn?"

You squirm in pleasure at his words, nodding, repeatedly moaning words about being his slut and for him to give you his cock, completely forgetting about the promise you just made Jay—like a true whore.

"Yeah?" He taunts you, slipping one hand under you to your tit and pinching your nipple so hard you arch your back at it, arching into him as you feel the pain shoot all the way through you in pleasure. "You're only good for taking my cum, right angel face?"

A gasp rips from your throat when his nails bite down on your nipple again, the sting shooting straight through you. Waves of goosebumps ripple across your skin, relentless, and all you can do is nod harder, desperate to keep up. "Ah—Hee, oh my god!"

"Shhh, isn't your mum home? You want her to come in here and see me fucking your needy hole? See how much of a fucking slut her daughter is?" You shake your head violently but the drag of his cock against your walls and the slap of his balls against your cunt that's dripping onto the bed as you doing otherwise.

His thrusts stay unrelenting, each one a willful reminder that this is only about release, not some sort of reunion. He leans down, mouth beside your ear, the rasp of his breath harsher than the slap of skin against skin.

"This doesn’t mean we're getting back together?" His laugh is cold and cruel, hips snapping forward harder just to hear you gasp. "Keep dreaming. I'll fuck you, but I'll never get back together with you again."

You clench around him, feeling the shame, hurt and sheer pleasure all tangled, and he hisses, the smile in his voice turning near vicious.

"That's it—tighten up like you don’t believe me," he taunts, hand curling in your hair to keep your face buried in the pillow. "We're done, angel face. You're just a convenient hole I'll use when I'm bored."

He punctuates every word with another sharp thrust, voice dropping even lower. "So stop pretending, stop hoping—because when I pull out, I'm gonna walk away, and you'll still be nothing but leftovers in another guy's bed."

You’re nearly in tears at his words, feeling it pooling on your lash line. You’re starting regret breaking your promise to Jay or for not standing your ground and pushing Heeseung out of your window. "Hee—Heeseung, please."

In one swift motion he pulls out and drags you to the edge of the bed and onto your back, pushing in again, completely ignoring your pleas. "Oh fuck! Shit’s so fucking tight—You let him fuck you here?"

"No! N—Never!" your response has him fucking forward faster, pinning your knees to your shoulders as he fucks deeper and rubs his fingers all over your clenching pussy. "You gonna squirt for me like a good girl?"

The sounds your pussy is making are messy and obscene, and when he hooks two fingers inside your pussy and curls them up? You don't stand a chance in the world, you cum hard, body spasming violently as the liquid shoots out of your cunt and sprays his chest and stomach, he laughs at the sight, "Yeahhh, there we go."

It drives him on towards his own orgasm. He thrusts faster and harder, pushing your legs into your chest harder, so hard that all you can do is bask in the pain. Your ass is burning deliciously, your pussy is hot, and your clit swollen as he finally groans and spills inside you. Hot strings of his cum filling your ass, making you keen and moan at the delicious feeling.

His skin is slick against yours as he falls over you, caging you in with your sweat cooling in the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You lie tangled together on the rumpled sheets, the aftermath of your stormy reunion thrums through every nerve of your body. His breathing comes out in ragged gasps as he shifts, body weighted onto you.

His hand drifts across your waist, the pads of his fingers rough where he's still too worked up. He leans in, voice clipped on your neck, every word laced with that familiar sting, "Don't get soft on me now, angel face. I'm not your boyfriend again."

Your heart thumps at the barb because you want him to be. But instead you force the usual shrug, feigning like you don’t care and wincing at the ache between your legs.

"Yeah," you whisper, a little out of breath. "I know."

He presses closer, chest against your spine, and you feel the heat of his body like something too close to a claim for someone who just outwardly said he doesn’t want to be with you again.

"Good," he mutters through a sharp exhale. "Then you know I'm sleeping here. Don't bother moving."

You don't argue, not because you don’t see the need but because you’re far too exhausted and you know damn well he won’t listen to you anyway. You're too used to his cold commands and your quiet yielding, so you let him pull you tighter, you let his arm settle across your ribs.

No kisses or soft words or aftercare, at least Jay had tried to make you look more presentable—smoothing out your skirt and trying to tame your here it’s just the steady thump of Heeseung’s heartbeat against your back and the whir of the street outside your house.

You close your eyes, mind drifting instead to Jay as you try to ignore the not so soothing circles Heeseung’s thumb is rubbing into your stomach.

He'll kill me, you think, eyelids heavy. He said he'd be done if he finds out, he actually said to make sure he doesn’t find out. The worry threads through you, sharp and anxious, but sleep drags you under before you can chase it down.

And for a moment, you're caught between their worlds—Heeseung's cold possession holding you in the dark, and Jay's promise of finality echoing in your head as you drift off.

You wake up to the sound of someone exhaling sharply through their nose, it’s not quite a sigh, not quite a laugh. But it's enough to pull you from the tangle of sleep, your limbs feel heavy and your skin is too warm beneath the sheets. Your body aches, but not sore in the good way, this is in the used up and exhausted way.

There's a dull throb between your legs and the rawness in your throat reminds you that you cried hard last night. For a second, you don't even remember where you are, but then you shift, and the bare skin against yours moves with you.

Heeseung still asleep beside you, with his chest rising and falling steadily. One of his arms is draped across your waist. You're completely naked with sticky thighs and a dull ache between your ass cheeks. The air in your room feels wrung out and the smell of sex is clinging to the sheets.

That same breath comes again and you realize it’s not from Heeseung, so you blink your eyes open.

And Jay is standing above you.

Dressed in sweats and a white tee that clings to him like second skin. His face is stoic, eyes flicking between the shape of you under your blanket and the man lying beside you.

Your heart stops, it actually stops before crashing into a violent rhythm inside your chest.

"Wow," Jay says, voice calm in that terrifyingly low way. "Not even twenty-four hours."

You shoot upright, dragging the sheet over your chest, like it'll somehow undo everything or erase the guilt growing like mold in your throat, threatening to suffocate you. You feel exposed and nauseous, like you could throw up right there in the bed.

"Jay—" you start, voice cracking.

But he just lifts his hand, not even to silence you, just so incredibly dismissively. Like your words aren't even worth hearing.

"Your mum said you didn't eat dinner," he says after a beat, not even looking at you now. "That's why I came. She said she was headed out for the day. Thought I could check on you."

Your stomach sinks. Shame slams into you so fast you have to look away. You want to be so angry at your mother for thinking Jay is so responsible with you but you can’t because he is responsible, especially with you.

Heeseung starts to stir at the sound of voices around him. He blinks up at Jay, completely unbothered. "What the fuck—?"

You can't breathe, not to talk of move. You feel like a child about to be punished, or more like a criminal caught red handed, but worse than all that, you feel absolutely pathetic.

"Is this how you let random guys barge into your room now?" Heeseung grumbles, rubbing his eyes. He squints at Jay. "The fuck are you even doing here?"

You want to scream at him to shut up. You want to cry, as you watch Jay stare into your eyes.

Heeseung sits up slowly, scoffing under his breath. "Get the fuck out, dude."

Jay doesn't budge or even feign like he’s about to. No, instead he plants himself at the foot of the bed—arms crossed, back straight, that unnerving calm carved into every line of his face. His gaze stays glued to you, not even wavering when Heeseung pushes up onto an elbow, blanket slipping low across his hips.

"Get dressed," Jay says, voice quiet but completely resolute. He isn't loud, because remember? he doesn't ever have to be. The authority in his voice is always ice cold and precise.

You scramble at the sheets, fully dizzy with panic, shame and adrenaline. Your hands are shaking so badly you can't tell if you're gripping cotton or fucking air.

Heeseung scoffs, a bark of incredulous laughter. "Who the fuck are you to tell her what to do?"

Jay doesn't still spare him a glance. He just extends a lazy hand toward your dresser. "Clothes. Now."

Heeseung's eyes narrow, confusion dawning into something uglier. "Wait." He sits all the way up, raking his gaze over Jay's face, then yours. "Hold on. Is this—" He points between the two of you, lips curling. "You? You're the guy who fucked her?"

You fathom speaking now, even though he truth is screaming inside your skull, your throat feels cemented shut.

Heeseung lets out another humorless laugh. "Wow. Your so called best friend, huh?" He looks you over, disgust edging his tone.  "You'll really spread your legs for just anyone, won't you?"

The words punch a hole straight through your chest, it has your vision blurring, but you still slide from the bed, clutching the sheet to the front of your body—the ache between your ribs way louder than the ache between your legs.

Jay's jaw flexes, but he doesn't rise to the bait of Heeseung referring to him as just anyone. He still doesn’t look at him. Rather, he turns slightly, exposing his profile to you, creating a corridor of privacy in the room that somehow excludes Heeseung entirely.

"Drawer," he says softly. "I'm counting to ten."

The absurdity of it almost makes you laugh—or sob. You stumble to your dresser, jerk it open, and pull the first t-shirt you find over your head. Your fingers fumble with a pair of panties. You feel Heeseung's stare on your back, burning with hate and disbelief.

Jay murmurs, "Eight...nine—"

You wrench the panties up just as he reaches ten, heart jack-hammering in your throat. Then you stand there, arms wrapped around yourself, sheet puddled at your feet like evidence.

Finally Jay shifts his gaze to Heeseung—slow and intentional with his eyes flat and glacier cold. "Out," he says. One syllable and absolutely nothing more.

Heeseung brims with tension, rising from the bed. "Fucking make me."

The air in your room turns heavy, electric, charged with something darker than anger. You tug the oversized shirt lower on your thighs, cheeks burning, pulse rabbiting beneath your skin. You should tell one of them to leave, you should scream, you should do something. Instead you stand there uselessly with a pounding heart and a twisted gut while the two men who know your body like a map stare each other down over the wreckage of your sheets.

Jay breaks the silence first, voice low. "You promised."

Heeseung lets out a dry laugh, eyes flicking to you, then back. "And? She promised me once too. Didn't stop her moaning my name last night while I fucked her ass."

Your breath catches so hard you think you might faint. You taste shame, guilt and it’s something sour that turns strangely sweet when both their gazes snap to you at the same time, like you're the prize in a game neither of them intends to lose.

"You proud of that?" Jay asks, still calm, but you hear the steel under the words.

Heeseung's smirk widens. "Looks like she is," he says, nodding at the way your knees knock together, the way your fingers twist in the hem of the shirt that ridiculously smells like Jay's detergent and Heeseung's sweat. "Little thing's shaking."

Your stomach flips with equal parts dread and a perverse thrill. Yesterday's memories flash hard behind your eyes, both of them inside your head, under your skin. You know you'll never be able to choose. Because part of you likes this, you like their attention crashing over you from both sides, two tidal waves colliding with you caught in the undertow.

Jay steps closer, toying with your phone in his palm. "Show him you can fucking follow instructions." he says quietly, gaze never leaving Heeseung.

The command sinks into your bones, all too familiar and unraveling. Your lips part but you don't even know what you're about to say or do. But then Heeseung's hand snakes out, catching your wrist and pulling you toward him instead.

"She listens to me just fine," Heeseung declares, fingers sliding to your chin, forcing your head back so you're looking up at him. "Don't you, angel face?"

You swallow, throat tight. A tiny sound, half-whimper, half-yes escapes your lips.

Jay's eyes are blazing when Heeseung shifts you to have your back against his chest. His hand traces a slow, infuriatingly confident line down your stomach, and you flinch at the intimacy of it. You don't even have time to move before Heeseung's mouth is right beside your ear, dragging a lazy kiss against your neck, possessive and smug.

Jay doesn't say anything, but his eyes darken, you see it and so does Heeseung.

"Seriously?" Jay finally mutters, voice low, somewhere between daze and something shockingly hungrier. "You're letting him touch you like that, right in front of me?"

Heeseung just laughs, warm breath skating over your shoulder as his hand slips lower, palming your pussy like he has every right to. "You can't look away though, can you?" he says, eyes fixed on Jay now, goading. "What's the matter? Didn't get enough yesterday?"

Jay's fists curl at his sides but he doesn't move, the tension radiating off of him is palpable. His stare drops to where Heeseung's hand is inside your panties you put on, groping like he's testing ownership.

"You're disgusting," Jay snaps, but his voice is thinner now, less conviction. His gaze is low and lingering.

Heeseung hums. "And you're hard."

That hits Jay like a gunshot and he freezes, nostrils flaring because he is hard.

Heeseung turns his attention back to you, smirking a little. His fingers slip between the folds of your pussy, finding your clit and you whimper, head dropping forward into your hands, embarrassed, but not enough to tell him stop, or enough to make them leave.

"Don't pretend this isn't what she wants," Heeseung says, dragging his lips along your neck. "She's been taking both of us, hasn't she? Plus I don’t really care about her, she just lets me do things other girls don’t."

Jay doesn't answer, but he does step closer. Close enough to see everything and close enough that your skin burns from the weight of both their attention.

"You gonna join me?" Heeseung asks him, too cocky now. "Or you gonna watch with your dick in your hand like a fucking cuck?"

Jay looks at you and the way his eyes soften is the only warning you get before he grabs your chin and kisses you, rough and unrelenting. Now you know neither of them are leaving at least not until one of them wins or they break you.

Heeseung's grip on your waist tightens, but his gaze is all on Jay now, trying to stand behind you like he's bored, like he's not fully hard from just watching Jay kiss you. He lets out a slow exhale, smirking a little as he confesses something that seems to not matter to him anymore.

"You know," he starts lazily, still watching as your tongue collides with Jay’s, "when I was with her...back then? You used to piss me off. Thought you were some kind of threat."

Jay pulls his mouth from yours. "Shut the fuck up."

"But looking at you now..." Heeseung tilts his head, continuing and dragging his eyes lower in a way that makes the air shift. "I don't think I wanna fight you anymore."

There's a beat of silence, something electric buzzing underneath it. You blink, unsure if you heard him right.

"I kinda wanna fuck you instead," he adds plainly.

Jay's lips part slightly, brows drawn in confusion that's quickly swallowed anger or curiosity, you can't truly tell.

Heeseung laughs at Jay’s reaction and then leans in closer to you, resting his chin lazily on your shoulder, eyes still on Jay. His tone drops. "Bet you taste good too," he says, like it's nothing, like he's not teasing the both of you. "Wouldn't mind finding out."

You tense between them, pulse thudding, because you see how this is power, pride...and a pull between them that neither of them wants to admit but both of them feel.

"Fuck off," Jay mutters, but his voice is hoarse now. "That’s not fucking happening."

Heeseung grins, victorious, and kisses your neck again, but slower this time cause he knows Jay is watching.

Heeseung's palm slides possessively over your stomach again while his mouth works a heated trail up your throat—never taking his eyes off Jay. Every flick of Heeseung's tongue feels like a dare thrown directly at the other man, and Jay's control is visibly eroding, his jaw flexed, chest rising faster, fists clenching as though he's deciding whether to shove Heeseung away or drag him closer.

"Getting worked up just watching?" Heeseung murmurs, lips brushing your earlobe, but the words are for Jay. He drags his hand lower across your thigh, slow enough to make you squirm. "Thought you were the one giving orders."

Jay's reply is a dark and unamused laugh. "Keep talking."

Heeseung does—whispers something filthy against your skin, hips nudging his hard clothed cock against your ass until you gasp and he continues to goad Jay.

"Tell me," Heeseung says, voice low as he noses along your jaw. "Is he a good kisser?" His question hums with challenge, and his fingers flex on your hip, reminding you how completely you're pinned between them.

Your pulse thunders. Shame and anticipation collide in your chest, and something reckless slips past your lips, something soft and breathy and meant only for him.

"Why don't you...find out?"

For a beat neither man moves. Jay's eyes flash in shock and something close to resentment, a flare of something hungry. Heeseung's grin spreads, slow and wicked. He leans past you, crowding closer until his breath mingles with Jay's.

The charged silence hangs, but then Jay closes the distance, grabbing the back of Heeseung's neck like he didn’t tell him a moment ago that it would never happen. Their mouths crash together, raw and forceful. You're caught between them, heat bouncing off their bodies, every muffled groan vibrating through your spine.

It's messy and competitive—Jay bites Heeseung's lip and Heeseung answers with a low growl, hand sliding boldly down Jay's side before circling back to squeeze your thigh. You feel the tremor that rolls through Jay at the touch, and pride twists with awe in your lower belly.

Heeseung's grip on your thigh loosens just long enough for him to shove you forward, away from the collision of their mouths. You stumble onto your knees beside the bed, watching as he turns fully to Jay, eyes blazing with hungry curiosity.

Heeseung presses his palm to Jay's chest, sliding it down over his ribs, fingertips tracing the line of his abs. Jay's breath draws sharp, caught off guard.

"Ever been with a guy before?" Heeseung's voice is soft, teasing, every word loaded.

Jay blinks at him. "No," he manages, tone rough.

Heeseung just laughs, soft and smug, thumb brushing over Jay's exposed skin. "That's alright. I'm honored to be your first..." He glances at you, eyes gleaming. "Just like I was hers."

Jay's jaw tics, but he doesn't move away. Heeseung steps in closer, chests brushing, heat rising in the thin space between them. His hand moves higher, curling around the back of Jay's neck, pulling him in again. And this time the kiss is filthier, open-mouthed with teeth grazing and tongues sliding without hesitation.

You're breathless watching them. Jay's hand grips Heeseung's side, uncertain but firm causing the other to groan into his mouth, hands slipping lower to snake between both their bodies to palm Jay’s hardened cock over his sweats. Jay jerks, gasping into the kiss, hips twitching forward in shock.

"Fuck," Jay hisses, pulling back just enough to suck in air.

"Sensitive already?" Heeseung grins, licking his lips. "That's cute."

You press your thighs together, pulse pounding at the sight of them, Jay's cheeks are flushed, Heeseung's calmness is near predatory, and the sheer tension vibrating between the three of you. Your body still aches from the night before, but all you can think about is them.

Heeseung bites his lip, fingers curling tighter around Jay's waistband, tugging it down enough to expose the hardness beneath.

Jay shudders. Heeseung raises an eyebrow. "You hard for me already?" he murmurs. "Or is it for her?"

Jay doesn't answer and it causes Heeseung to grin wider. "Guess it doesn't matter."

And then he spits into his hand, slow and deliberate, before wrapping it around Jay’s dick without breaking eye contact with him.

You swear you feel your clit forming a heartbeat.

Jay takes a sharp inhale he tries desperately to stifle. This is new to him, but his chest tightens either way and his pulse hammers in his throat when Heeseung wraps his spit covered hand around his dick. Everything in Jay screams that he shouldn't want this, that Heeseung is the enemy, but beneath that war, a dark current of arousal is coiling.

Heeseung's fingers pump him slow and sure, eyes locked on his as if he willing him to break. Jay's lips part, and for a heartbeat, he almost moans but he clamps his jaw shut instead, head tilting back so only the curve of his throat shows, as heat floods his face.

His hands twitch at his sides, yearning to grip something, anything. He lifts one to knot in Heeseung's hair, not in anger, but instinct like a desperate plea for more and it makes Heeseung's grin flicker with victory.

Jay's vision darkens at the edges as the pleasure builds, electric and terrifyingly sweet. He fights for control, but his body betrays him when a low groan slips free, startling even him, one which has you trailing your hand between your legs to find some sort of relief.

Heeseung doesn't even glance your way but his voice slices through the thick air like a whip, "Touch yourself and neither of us lay a hand on you."

Your fingers freeze, inches from your cunt, the sight before you too overwhelming, their bodies are close, with tension humming like live wire, and you’re drowning in it, arousal clouding everything else.

A pit of embarrassment forms in your chest. You slowly lower your hand back to the ground with your heart racing.

Jay looks you too now with a dark gaze, you notice his chest rising and falling hard like he's on the edge of saying something—but doesn't.

Heeseung's pace stroking Jay's cock quickens, it turns somewhat relentless, he has one hand still steady at Jay's hip while the other pumps him with confidence. Jay's eyes flutter shut as the pressure builds, you know that look.

"You like that, don't you?" Heeseung says, voice laced with amusement.

Jay's fingers cling to Heeseung's shoulders, body trembling under the rising tension of his orgasm. You watch, breath caught as Heeseung leans in close, lips brushing Jay's ear.

"Look at you—so proud you could handle her, and yet here you are, helpless for me." His thumb presses in right over the phallic tip of him, dragging a trembling, lewd pulse through Jay's cock. It makes Jay's hand jerk, scrabbling at Heeseung's wrist, helpless.

Heeseung smiles knowingly against Jay's skin—slow, knowing. "No hiding," he teases, brushing fingertips over Jay's lower lip until Jay parts them, letting Heeseung trace the wet line. "You don't sound like the tough guy you pretend to be."

You watch Jay try to swallow, try to form a retort, but his voice is gone, it's replaced by a soft, whimpering moan that vibrates through his whole body.

"Go on," Heeseung says. "Let me see what you look like when you cum.”

Jay's head falls back, neck bare, throat exposed. And then it happens, a trembling exhalation, guttural and urgent, as Jay's body shudders and clenches. You see the flush spread across his cheeks, you hear the wet heat of Jay's cum slicking across Heeseung's palm.

Heeseung strokes him through it with a steady hand, letting Jay's orgasm roll through him until the final shudder. Then he slowly withdraws his hand, setting Jay's spent cock free to twitch in the cool air. He watches Jay's chest heave, eyes still closed, mouth parted.

For a heartbeat, there's only the sound of Jay's ragged breathing, then Heeseung's gaze flicks downward, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips when he notices Jay still hard, flushed and ready like he hadn't just come undone seconds ago.

"Well, shit," he drawls, low and smug. "Didn't think you had stamina like that."

Jay doesn't respond at first, he just eyes Heeseung up and down, standing firm, his chest heaving with barely restrained unease. But there's a flicker in his eyes of something darker, especially when Heeseung keeps looking at him like that, like he's impressed and still in control all at once.

Heeseung's grins because he doesn't miss the look Jay gives him. He leans in a little, "I wanna know, Jay. You ever fucked her ass?"

That hits. Jay's head snaps toward you, and there's a twitch in his lip, his whole body tensing like he's about to swing, but it's not from shame or shock but something possessive and territorial, and it makes his tone is clipped and bitter when he replies, "No. I haven't."

Heeseung hums in jest, clearly savoring it, but then Jay steps in, crowding his space more with a tight jaw. "You think that makes you better than me?" he mutters, eyes narrowing. "You think that means you get to take what's mine?"

Heeseung raises a brow, not backing down. "You really think she's yours right now?" he says, voice velvet-smooth. "She let me in first. And look at you..." He chuckles as his gaze drops again. "Still acting like you've got any say."

But instead of escalating, Heeseung steps back a bit. A surprising glint of generosity or maybe twisted mischief shines in his eyes. He turns to you, then grabs your wrist, dragging you of the ground effortlessly toward him.

"Come here, angel face," he says, already sitting back on the sheets.

You shake as he guides you to straddle him, already pushing your panties down your thighs.

Jay's confusion flashes at the sight, followed quickly by understanding. His eyes drag across your body as you're pulled onto his lap. The way you're still pliant, already slick, flushed from everything that just happened. You settle over him like instinct, thighs shaking.

Heeseung lays against the bed with his hands spread on your ass, satisfied. "Go on," he tells Jay, like he's giving him a gift. "Or you don't wanna fuck her ass?"

Jay doesn't speak, he just gets on the bed behind you and grabs your hips roughly, eyes never leaving Heeseung's. The tension between them is tangible now, some primal challenge in the air and you're caught right in the center of it—torn and dizzy with it, as Jay pushes you down onto him, every inch of him searing and full of purpose. And all the while, Heeseung just watches cause he likes what he sees.

The sheets are cool under your knees as Jay's hands splay around your ass, guiding you to angle back against him. Every breath from you seems too loud in the sudden hush of your room, it's just the faint creak of the mattress and the muted hum of morning outside your window. Jay's hands are warm against your spine, his skin damp where he's still riding the edge of anger and desire.

Heeseung lounges at the head of the bed and under you, propped against the pillows, dark eyes tracking every twitch in your body and every flicker of tension across Jay's jaw. You're hyperaware of his presence—how his gaze sears like a brand, claiming you even as Jay'sce fingers spread across your waist in their own possessive pattern.

You're pinned between them—straddling Heeseung's lap as Jay lines his spit and cum covered dick up with your clenching hole. Heeseung's hands grip your hips too, trying to keep you in play for Jay, his thumbs digging into the flesh of your ass, forcing you back hard on Jay's cock behind you. You moan out something incoherent, "Oh—! W—Wait! Nggh."

Heeseung's voice is a rasp at your ear with something wicked and out of breath, "Look at you—between two men like some cheap toy." He adjusts himself under you, pulling out his cock from his boxers and gently lining it up with your pussy. "Oh my god! Heeseung wait!"

You gasp, heat roaring through your core as Jay picks up a steady pace of fucking his cock into you and Heeseung pushes his up into your sopping cunt, each stroke makes you push back Jay, the feeling of both of them in your holes has you digging your nails digging into Heeseung's shoulders.

Heeseung chuckles darkly. "You like that, don't you? Two big dicks fucking you?" His grin is jagged, but you can't even look at it for too long because the fullness is so intense you have to close your eyes. "So good! So good!"

Jay's hand finds yours on Heeseung's shoulder, gripping tight, his is palm hot on yours. He doesn't say anything, but you feel the strain in his muscles as he drives his cock into you harder and faster.

Heeseung leans upward, kissing you quickly before shoving his fingers into your mouth. "Ngh! Oh! Goddamit! I can feel your dick through her." He takes his fingers from your mouth and uses the same ones to rub your clit in harsh circles.

"Too much! Heeseung! Jay!"

"Sloppy little thing," he snarls. "But Jay'll fix that, huh?" He fucks up into you with renewed determination, the pressure of your orgasm building inside you in a jagged, desperate wave.

Tears sting your eyes as Jay's grunts fill the room. "Hole's so tight—My God."

"She ever squirt for you before?" Heeseung asks Jay, pace never failing, "Yeah," Jay groans, his eyes screwing shut and his head lolling back.

Heeseung laughs. "Yeah? Think you can go faster?"

You hear Jay grumble in agreement as his pace picks up along with Heeseung's and they both brush something delicious inside your two holes. The stretch is impossibly overwhelming, it has you drooling right onto Heeseung's chest.

You're right at the edge of losing control and you know they are too, every nerve ending in your body erupts into a blazing white-hot spark. You can feel the relentless fullness of Heeseung thrusting into your pussy and the deep burn of Jay pushing into your asshole like two currents of pressure that clash inside you, building into one ridiculously impossible wave.

"I'm gonna cum! Hee!—Jay! Gonna cum! Gonna cum!"

In that instant, your vision blurs at the edges, your breath catches in jagged gasps, and your holes clench down around them both. Your hands slam into the headboard as a rush of heat floods outward from your cunt, simultaneously constricting and exploding, like every drop of blood in your veins has turned to molten fire. "Yes yes yes! Use me! Use me!"

Your whole body convulses with Jay's name on your lips, need shooting through every nerve until Heeseung's words pull you back from the edge. "Fuck, that's right—Ugh."

A strangled moan tears from your throat, your back arches, and your toes curl as the wave crests. You're suspended between fierce ache and a blissful orgasm, every inch of you humming with overload.

Time fractures and each of your heartbeats thump in your ears as your orgasm rolls through you again and again with thick surges of bliss that crackle with humiliation and joy all at once. Your vision swims with dizziness, you're so fucking elated and completely undone.

Behind you, Jay grunts grow louder, his own ripping orgasm from him in a raw exhale as he cums into your asshole, continuing to pump himself into you. His hips jerk with every pulse, driving you higher even as you cum. "Oh fuck me."

Beneath you, Heeseung's breath snarls in your neck, with a husky voice. "Cumming!"

You feel his cum spill inside your pussy, so warm and grounding, as his hands tighten on your hips and hold you in place.

You're suspended between them with Jay's and Heeseung's pleasure and yours intertwining in a moment of pure, overwhelming abandon. Your body trembles so hard you think you might shatter, tears slipping free as the last tremor fades.

You feel trapped in their storm of shame, lust, and fear. It has you dizzier and you start to drift, so close to passing out. Your limbs feel heavy and detached, as if you're watching someone else slumped between them. Their bodies surround you so steadily while the world outside your bedroom window carries on oblivious.

Heeseung's breath is soft against your neck, his hand still resting on your hip. Jay's steady weight behind you reminds you of every promise made and every threat whispered. But no one speaks and time thins.

All you can feel is the slow pulse of your heart, the faint sting of tears on your cheeks, and the relentless press of desire still humming through your veins.

Then, almost too quietly to hear, Heeseung shifts, voice against your skin but eyes on Jay.

"I wanna fuck you next."

➺ taglist: @immelissaaa @fancypeacepersona @inawonderfulworld @usuallyunlikelyfox @starry-eyed-bimbo @strayy-kidz @mheretoreadff @bloomiize @xoenhalover @mamuljji @rawwwre @gabrielinhaa @cherrieikeu @niyzu @ieatwon @rialikesbts @lunacrtk @dulcetnostalgia @bussolares @lovel1z @dearestdreamies @kristynaaah @rosepetals09 @c1eod1n3 @kiikiisblog @plumdove @pqrkjyx @tojiworshipper @loverseon

[crowfish-brainrot]

LaDs Men When You're Ovulating and Feral

I should be chained to a tree when I'm ovulating. I'm like an omega in heat. So, in honor of my feral energy, here's what I think the Love & Deepspace Men would do when you're ovulating and feral with need.

MDNI. Explicit! Smut! Breeding, overstim, bratting, rut instincts, and idk, lots of horniness, d/s dynamics if you squint. Lemurian!Rafayel, dragon!Sylus so maybe some light monsterfuckin? Entirely unedited. You get this raw (like our Lads!)

XAVIER

He's in heaven when you're ovulating. He might be an alien but he's got that bunny energy. He will put you through your mattress over and over again, until you're both slick and breathless.

Will match your energy until you're too tired to move, but if you let him, he'll continue doing all the work.

Breeding is definitely on the table (though it's just talk until you don't want it to be)

Not done until you can't take anymore, then it's food and cuddle time.

"Xavier!" you moaned, your voice hoarse. You lost count of how many times he made you come. Your thighs trembled, slick and sticky with your arousal, yet he showed no signs of stopping.

He rolled his hips, shoving his cock all the way inside you. You choked around your moans, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, then peppered more down your hickey-covered neck. "You can still talk. I'm not done with you yet."

He throws your legs over his shoulders and pushes them down to your chest as he leans over you. His cock hits so deep, almost too deep. Sweat has his pale blonde hair clinging to his forehead, and his big blue eyes are dark with his lust. His gaze doesn't leave your face, not that you know, you can't keep your eyes open. It's too much pleasure.

"Look at me, bunny," Xavier commanded, his voice firm in your ears.

You struggle, but you open your eyes, meeting his unrelenting gaze. The way he looks at you, flushed, sweaty, and almost drunk of pleasure does you in. You come around his cock and scream his name. He curses under his breath, and as your walls convulse around his cock, you beg for his come.

"Want me to fill you up? To breed this needy little pussy?" Xavier groaned as he railed into you. You nodded, and he shoved his cock all the way inside you with a curse. "Take it all, bunny. Take every drop of my come."

ZAYNE

Handles your feral brattiness with the most patience. Tries to get home at a reasonable hour to take care of you.

Leaves detailed instructions on what to do until he's with you. You should follow them, but if the horny demons win you're going to bend those instructions to get him riled up.

Ties have more than one use. He doesn't play about breeding, so be sure you want that if you're going to ask him for it.

Not stopping until you're melted in a puddle, then he'll feed you chocolate and praise you

You broke the rules, and now you were paying for it with every sharp clap of Zayne’s hand across your ass. You were supposed to edge. Only twice — Zayne was merciful, most of the time — but you didn’t listen. He took to long to get home to you, and instead of edging and waiting for him like a good girl, you came. Squirted all over the sheets. You were meant to wear your vibrating panties out tonight, but you greeted Zayne naked when he came home. Why? You wanted his attention, of course. Well, now you had it, and you weren’t getting away.

You were bent over his lap, naked. Zayne was still dressed, his pressed clothes as perfect as ever, his glasses perched perfectly on his nose. Your hands were bound behind your back with his striped tie, the only thing he’d taken off so far. Another sharp smack landed across your ass, and you wriggled in his lap. Zayne’s free hand held his tie that bound your arms to still you.

“You wanted to misbehave, though you knew the consequences. Don’t try to escape your punishment, darling. You won’t get far.” Zayne’s calm, cool voice pulls goosebumps to the surface of your skin. He continues the smacks across your ass, and soon you’re fully writhing in his lap. You’re so wet it’s dripped down your thighs and onto his dress pants. Your ass is bright red by the time he’s delivered his punishment.

Two fingers dove deep into your soaking cunt and fucked you at a rapid pace. Your walls fluttered around his fingers and you arched, the stimulation too much. Yet, Zayne held you there until you came across his fingers. You sobbed as your release took you, and once you came down, Zayne withdrew from you. He helped you stand on trembling legs, then pulled his pants down. He pulled you into his lap, and you both hissed when his big cock slipped inside you.

“You wanted to come, darling? Then come. Don’t stop. I’ll tell you when you’re done, just keep coming for me,” Zayne said as he settled his hands over your hips. He pounded into you for hours, and that was the first time you realized too much pleasure was its own form of punishment.

RAFAYEL

If his Lemurian rut and your ovulation week lined up neither one of you would see the outside world for an entire week. He's always a little feral for you (he did wait 800 years) & seeing you equally as feral for him? Yeah. You're going to need to call out of work until he's done with you.

Will go until you're too sensitive. He'll pout, but he'll give you a few to recover. Maybe an hour, max. Then he's back at it. You switch who's in charge every few rounds, but he'll take over once you're too tired.

He talks about breeding you all the time. If he's in his rut? It's not just talk anymore. He wants to breed you.

He'll give you a relaxing bath after to help your tired muscles, but while he might be a fish he's also got that bunny energy so expect a few more rounds before you both pass out.

You’re fucked out. Sweat has long since slicked your skin. You’ve gone from the bed, to the bath, and back to the bed again. Rafayel came into his rut along with your ovulation week, and it was almost as if another force possessed him. Like he couldn’t stop. You were just as bad. You needed him inside you more than you needed air. You had to take a few days of leave from the Association, because there was no way Rafayel was letting you out of his sight right now. Not when you needed him as badly as he needed you.

“Fuck, cutie, you feel so good. Can’t stop fucking this perfect pussy,” Rafayel babbled as he fucked you with long, deep strokes. “Need more. So much more. Can I take you into the sea, cutie? Please? Need to take you beneath the waves. Need to breed you. Fill you up. Over. And. Over.”

He ended his plea by punctuating each word with a firm thrust of his hips. All you could do was nod, too blissed out to do anything more than feel. And that felt right. Like it was supposed to be. You and him, beneath the waves. With your agreement, he lifted you into his arms, pulling out just for a few moments. You whimpered at the loss of him, and he cooed soft assurances into your ear. His private beach opened up behind his house, and it was only a matter of moments before the cool water hit your overheated skin. He kissed you as he dragged you below the waves.

On the soft, sandy seabed, he fucked you in his true form. So massive he blocked out the sight of anything else. His tail wrapped around your legs, holding you in place as he fucked his dual cocks into you. They were so massive you didn’t understand how they fit, but you were his bride, his bonded, and you would forever give yourself to him as a form of worship. Feeling both his cocks inside you, stretching you, using you, was everything you didn’t know you needed. You begged for him to come, to fill you up, to breed you. Rafayel lost it, pounding into you with an almost feral growl.

“Take it. My beloved bride. Mine. Take every last drop of my come. I’ll keep fucking you just like this till it sticks.”

SYLUS

He's having a blast. You're marking him up and he's so happy. He's got tools to keep you occupied if he has to go somewhere. Will wear your favorite outfit of his just to tease you.

He's so hungry. He'll use his evol to pin you in place while he eats. This is his happy place, and he'll stay between your thighs as long as you let him.

Dragon nesting/rut instincts might be a thing. I can see him giving you extra gifts or making his bed extra comfy for you as a means of soothing those instincts. Breeding is on the table if you want it.

He's only stopping once you've both had your fill, then he's going to give you the BEST snuggles because next to eating your pussy, his favorite thing in this world is probably holding you close tbh.

Sylus’ fingers squeezed your writhing hips as you left yet another mark along his collar bone. You covered his neck and chest in your love bites, staking claim to your territory. Marking him as yours. The bed was a mess of silk sheets, comfy pillows and dim lighting. Everything made softer, more beautiful, all for you. The best gift he’d given you, though, was the silver chain wrapped around your wrist that tethered to the collar at his neck. He gave you control, and he loved how you used it.

You pulled on the chain, dragging his lips to yours. You kissed him like you were starved. Like he was your sustenance as much as you were his. You ground down into his lap, taking him in to the base, your hips flush against his. Your thighs burned from riding him so hard for so long, but you couldn't stop. His cock felt too good, he split you open too well. Every time the head of his cock pressed against your cervix you saw stars. You clutched onto the chain, keeping him close as you used him to come.

You came with a scream that he greedily swallowed. Your hips stilled, but he took over, fucking into you with greater force. He pulled away from your lips with a low growl. "Can I come inside you, sweetie?"

You agreed with a sharp yes, begging him to come inside you, to breed you. To fill you up. He chuckled into your neck, the sound dark and rich. "If you want me to breed you, kitten, hold on tight." You did as he said, and a wave of his evol rushed over his body, and he seemed bigger somehow, both inside you and around you. You moaned and opened your hazy eyes, seeing his dragon form. Black scales, horns, and long claws. You moaned at the sight of him, and something hot and swollen pressed against your opening. Sylus gripped your hips and pulled you all the way down. His knot slipped inside you, and you screamed as you came once again. He growled into your neck, sharp teeth biting into you as he came. Hot, thick spurts filled you to the brim.

"You're the one who wanted to be bred, sweetie. Now we're going to be stuck like this all night. I'll make sure you get what you asked for."

CALEB

He matches your feral energy 100%. Nothing you could say, do, or ask for is too much for this man. Anything you say you want, he's doing to/for you.

It's a messy, sweaty, marathon run. King of "just one more" & that's SAYING SOMETHING with this group!!! You'll hit every stable-enough surface in his house at least once. Maybe three times.

Puppy-eyed, he'll ask to breed you. It's all he's ever dreamed of. If you let him, he WILL go feral. He says the most unholy things tbh.

When you physically can't take anymore, he'll wrap you up in his arms, feed you, and hold you close bc that's his happy place.

You'd come so many times your brain has melted out of your ears. Your throat is hoarse and dry from screaming so much, and the entire room smells like sweat and sex. You don't think you can come again. Your body is sticky all over from the combination of sweat and come, his and yours. Still, Caleb can't stop, he's fucking into you hard. Right now, you're bent over the back of the couch as his hips relentlessly thrust inside you. You meekly tell him you can't come again, and his fingers immediately go back to working your clit.

"C'mon, princess. One more for me, please? Just one more. One more and I'll put you to bed. Just come one more time for me." He begged so sweetly, how could you deny him? It didn't matter that he swore the last six times he needed "just one more", not when he moaned. Not when he fucked into your sloppy cunt like that was the only thing he lived for.

"One more," you agreed. "Last one." Caleb cursed under his breath as he pounded into you. His big hands spread your ass apart so he could watch himself sink into your pussy over and over again. Your body didn't want to let him go, despite how wet and raw you both were. Every thrust further fried your nerves, all of them overstimulated and too sensitive.

Caleb flipped you around and held you in place with his evol. He shoved his fat cock as far into you as he could go, and you whimpered. Overfull and sensitive. He leaned down and brought his lips to yours in a heated kiss. "Can I breed you? Please. Gods, I need to come in you. I need to. Please, princess. Please let me breed you. Please, please. I need to feel you milk my cock, please." His panted breaths and the big violet puppy eyes did you in. You couldn't say no to him. You choked out an agreement, begging him to come inside you, to fill you up, and he broke. Three hard, sloppy thrusts, then he came inside you. So much more than he had earlier, filling you up to the brim. The throbbing of his cock sent you over the edge a moment after, and you screamed his name.

"That's it, princess. Milk me dry. Take all my come. It's all yours, pretty girl. You've earned it."

A/N: This is filth. Pure filth. Brought to you by the ovulation demons that make me want nothing else but to be fucked all day for like a solid 3-5 days a month. On those days, I'm delulu enough to think I could handle all 5 of these men at the same damn time.

Anyway, Mistakes Were Made Set 2 is coming soon. In the meantime, you get my headcannons.

[loveharlow]

Can you do one where you broke up with rafe in he just won’t leave you alone

⋯ ♡ᵎ 💬 : idk i kind of love this

soft!rafe(?), swearing, fluff at the end

The first few days, your phone was a constant buzzing in your pocket, his name flashing across the screen. You let it ring, the vibration a dull ache against your thigh.

Then, the ringing stopped, replaced by the satisfying click of you declining his calls. You thought, hoped, that he was finally getting the message.

You were wrong.

One afternoon, a call came through, and without thinking, you answered.

"Hello-"

"Please, baby, just talk to me. I'm so sorry. I messed everything up, I know, but please, just give me a chance." His voice, hoarse and desperate, filled your ear.

"Rafe..." you sighed, the weariness heavy in your voice. "You can't keep calling me. I said I needed space. And I really do. I need to think."

"Think about what? A-about us? About whether you want to be with me?-"

"About whether it's healthy to be with you." You interrupted his ramblings. You'd broken up because Rafe, lately, had just become too much — too many parties, too many drugs, too many arguments, too many apologies. "I...I'm sorry, Rafe."

So with those last words, you hung up, the silence that followed almost deafening. You immediately put your phone on do not disturb, hoping for some semblance of peace.

It lasted all of five minutes.

Your screen lit up with a barrage of texts. You scrolled through them, each one a fresh wound, especially since you hadn't had the heart to change his contact name just yet, or the picture of you two that accompanied.

(4) New iMessages from Rafey (My Baby)💕🧸 Please, I can’t live without you. Just tell me what to do. I'll do better, okay? I'll do whatever you want me to. Baby, please, let me fix this. I love you.

You took a deep breath, willing any lingering tears to go away as you typed out a curt reply.

You Please, don't make me block you, Rafe.

But he didn't listen. And the texts kept coming, interspersed with notifications of money being sent to your Cash App. He was trying to buy his way back in. And that was the final straw. So, with an extremely heavy heart, you blocked his number.

The quiet was a relief, but it was once again short-lived. He moved to social media. Every picture you’d ever posted, even ones from years ago, or ones he’d already liked, suddenly had a fresh like from @TheRealRafeCameron. He was reliking them, a desperate plea. Then came the DMs.

New Messages from TheRealRafeCameron You took our pictures down? Babe, please, don't do this I love you. Tell me you still love me. I need you.

You blocked him there too.

Minutes later, your phone buzzed with a text from your friend.

Nat💙 omg, did u see rafe's story?

You No, I blocked him.

Suddenly, a screenshot popped up. It was Rafe's Instagram story, a white background, a photo of the two of you in the middle, with black text above it: "$1000 to the first person who can get my girlfriend to unblock me. No questions asked."

Nat💙 girl, if it was me, i'd unblock him but maybe i'm too weak for this actually, yeah no, stand on business!! (idk what he did)

Your blood ran cold. He was really doing this. You took a deep breath, opened your own story: "If you message me about Rafe, I'll block you too."

Moments passed and, finally, everything went quiet.

You were able to drift off to sleep, the silence welcome. But in the middle of the night, a familiar roar shattered that peace.

Rafe's car.

Outside your window.

You shot up, heart pounding, and rushed to the window, careful not to wake your parents.

And there he was, standing in your driveway, the headlights of his car illuminating him, blinding you. He was holding a ridiculous, oversized stuffed animal, a bouquet of flowers, and a bag from your favorite restaurant.

You cracked your window. "Rafe!" You hissed, hands gripping the edge of you window seal. "What are you doing? My parents are sleeping!"

He looked up, his eyes wide and earnest. "I had to see you. I know it's late, okay, I know. But I can't do this, baby."

You gritted your teeth, rolling your eyes. "Wha- When-" You sighed, giving up whatever thought was trying to roll. "And where the hell did you find Valentine's stuff? It's June."

He offered a sheepish grin. "I have my ways." He said, a hint of smugness in his voice before it disappeared. "Please, just come down and talk to me. I know you're mad, but please..."

You stared him down without a word, though a part of you was already weakening.

"Just come down." He pleaded. "Five minutes. That's all I ask."

You hesitated, then sighed. You knew he wouldn't leave until you did. But there was also a part of you that didn't want him to.

You tiptoed downstairs, unlocked the front door, and stepped out into the cool night air.

He was there in an instant, the stuffed animal almost as big as him. He handed you the flowers and the food, then the giant plush. "I know I messed up..." He started, a hand reaching out to caress your face, voice low. "But I'm willing to do anything to fix this, okay? I mean it this time. I'm not lying, and I won't fall back, I swear. I just... I love you, and I don't know what to do without you. I don't know what life looks like without you, but I don't wanna find out. I never meant to hurt you and I won't do it ever again. I promise, okay?"

You looked at the ridiculous array of gifts, at the genuine remorse in his eyes, and a small, reluctant smile touched your lips. "...You're unbelievable, y'know that, right?"

He took your hand, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. "Is that a good unbelievable or a bad unbelievable?"

You shook your head, a laugh escaping your lips. "Good."

©loveharlow.

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[getozitos]

— blossoming of a perverted youth.

(abby × fem reader)

summary: abby was surely one of the most lustful demons in whatever hell there was for him; you weren't that different from him, except for the fact you weren't a demon.

c.w: cunnilingus, teasing, grinding, semi-public?, clit playing (biting), edging, spitting, porn without plot (pwp), smut, unprotected sex, breeding, fem!reader, pet names, a bit of slapping. no beta reading cuz im lazy lol

with his nails (more like claws) teasing all over your body, you wrinthed under his touch, your heart fluttering as his nails seemed to tease your nipples without much thought. well, just like you, he didn’t seem to think much of anything other than pleasure, too.

he didn’t care what happened before, fuck, he didn’t even knew what happened for you both to be in this position now. all that he knew was that your ass felt great against his straining dick and that was enough for him to hold on tight to your hips.

of course, it felt almost sinful to fuck a demon who seemed to be at least 400 years older than you while wearing a cross on your neck, but, again, you didn't care about it. you were just as much of a perv as he was and he noticed it the moment he caught you staring at his body as if he was some kind of meat.

his hat, that was one of the sexiest things you saw a man wear, was hanging at the doorknob of your room. and thank god! you told your mother you weren't hungry, so, now, your biggest concern should be letting this demonic himbo (don't let him know you said that) eat too.

"y'know i can't finger you, right?" he muttered, the tip of his nails playing with the side of your panties while he heard you purr, fuck, you really needed him, didn't you?

"why?" you asked, pouted lips and glossy eyes from how much you wanted it. you wanted every part of him, it seemed like you were just as hungry as he was.

"what do you mean, why?" he asked, brows arching as he chuckled from how useless your brain was getting. he showed you his hands, his claws a bit too pointy for you to not notice.

you gulped down, his arm still hugging you and forbidding you from getting away from him. and you wouldn't walk away even if he asked you, and that's how much you were yearning to be fucked by him.

"don't get so dumb, love. i know your brain is still working inside this tiny, little head of yours." he said, biting your neck, and you could do nothing but mewl and whine for every bite given you. it was truly a gift.

"there's... other ways of playing" you said, voice hoarse as he smiled against your neck. it seemed like his grip on you was working, for you to be talking like a whore.

"truly? then, what do you want me to do, dear?"

"...use your mouth."

he smiled, a smile that exposed his fangs with great pride as he laughed, slapping your face for no great reason other than the fact that he wanted to slap you, not because he didn’t want to fuck his tongue inside you, no, of course he wanted it, but he also wanted to slap you until you were just as pink as his hair.

he grabbed your face, smiling and licking your cheek as if he was your owner and you were the finest patisserie in this side of the world. he placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing it hard enough for the tip of his nails to leave small marks on your sensitive skin.

"you're so dumb, princess." he said, a devilish grin on his mouth as he pressed you against the wall, getting on his knees. "you should be rewarded for it."

he put your thigh on his shoulder, looking up just to see your smile and the redness of your cheeks from both lust, heat and the slap he gave you. fuck it, right? fucking was also a way to get souls and shit like that, but right now, his only goal was to eat you, not your soul.

so, he put himself to work, and that's how you found out that he had a cold tongue, maybe because he wasn't an human being, or maybe because he was putting his tongue ring right on your clit, pressing it on your pearl before he began to suckle on you as if you had honey in between your legs. maybe the fact that you looked like everything he wanted to have for breakfast, dinner, lunch and tea-time was helping his hunger for your cunt.

you held onto the small desk beside your bed, breathing hard and biting your index finger as he bit you, of course, just enough for you to feel the right amount of pleasure and a bit of agony, fear that he would bite you too hard.

he pushed your thigh further up, savoring the taste of your cunt and savoring the way you moaned a bit too loud before slapping your hand over your mouth, he could see in your eyes just how much you wanted this, how much you wanted to keep grinding on his face, tasting the way his nose felt against your pussy. but he also could see the fear in the way your chest was heaving, fearful that somebody would walk in.

you were so precious, weren't you?

your hips rolled on his face as if you wanted him to go further, if there was a way to. and, well, he noticed that too, maybe that's why his hands grabbed the full meat of your ass to push you closer (if there was even a way to get closer) to his tongue, that, just like you wanted, dreamed and yearned for, was finally thrusting into your pussy with as much hunger as you couldn't even dream of.

his nails almost stabbed you, and with the way your hips were grinding, humping, rolling kn his face, it was obvious that his nails would end up hurting you, but, well, who cares? it was for greater reasons.

you grabbed his hair a bit too hard, just like he wanted it, and your poor mouth opened in a perfect 'o', in a reaction to how he was thrusting his tongue inside you in a cruel way of showing how much he knew your body, even if he never touched you before – he knew just how much you liked to thrust your fingers inside you.

"abby- please, please, calm down" you begged, almost crying as you felt yourself throb and flutter on him. he was forced to get a bit away, of course, but not enough for him not to pleasure you.

"why?" he asked, licking his lips and tasting the remainings of your wet essence on his bottom lip. "weren't you the one who wanted this?"

"yes, yes. i still do-" you breathed hard, still feeling his hands on your butt. "but i don't want anyone to hear me."

"that's your problem?" he asked, chuckling. humans were such prudes, right? "well, then let's make it less embarassing, then."

and just as you were about to thank him, he got up in an instant, putting you right in front of the closed window as he got back on his knees behind you, his mouth going back to your parts as you forcibly bended your back to him. you could see your family gathered under a tree from where you were standing, and you could only hope they wouldn't see you in this position — your hair was a mess, your tank top was a bit too much exposing of your chest, a round low cut that wasn't there before, and etc etc.

"abby-!" you pleaded, breathing hard and whining as the tip of his sharp nail teased your clit, his hand slapping your ass with a hard smack that would be red and was already hurting you. "fuck, fuck, i'm so close-" you cried out.

and why would you tell him that if not for him to abandon you mid-way?

you didn't want him to stop, but seeing you would cum on his face when he wanted you to cum on his dick was something that made it quick for him to stop. he got up quickly, his mouth obviously wet and it's obvious, he just had to kiss you with his mouth tasting of you.

your tongue was already entangled on his when you felt your own taste on his tongue, his hand holding your face before he spit in your mouth and just why did you swallow it? it was so quick, too. as if you were expecting him to spit on you.

"didn't even had to tell you what to do, did i? you're such a good girl you figured it yourself" he laughed, pulling your panties aside again as he took his cock away.

you could only feel his inches pressing on you, his hand on your neck as he forced your figure on the window, his mouth latching on your neck as he sucked on your skin again, marking it until it was so red he knew it would be purple on the next day. it was truly a shame that you didn't got to see how hard you made him, his dick standing proud and already leaking even though you guys didn't do much.

his hand travelled all the way back to your hips, pulling you back against him before he teased you by rubbing the head of his dick on your wet slit, sharing some of your heat and wetness before he pushed you hard against him, his dick plunging into you and feeling the heat of your tightness around him, his face and yours both contorted in pleasure as he felt you already throbbing around him.

"you're so sensitive, dear," he panted, pushing your hips back and forth as he watched his dick disappear inside you, it was such a pretty sight, too. "for fuck's sake" he growled, his hand gropping your boob and pinching your already hard nipple.

"abby," you managed to cry out,pulling your tank top to cover his hand on your boob. you could only hope, hope and hope again that nobody would see the demon behind you, thrusting inside you and smiling at your reactions, smiling at how good his body felt on you.

"wanna say something, princess?" he asked, tightening his grip in your waist as he fucked you, his dick being milked by you and your cunt.

"please, don't stop-" you begged, once again not for the right reasons as he laughed and smacked your butt.

"i couldn't stop even if your whole family break into this room, dear." he said, kissing his neck. "you're so pretty on my dick, i just cant get enough from you."

he smiled, kissing her again and, once she felt her walls flutter on his dick, she knew she couldn't ger away again. she moaned against the kiss, crying, letting him feel every flutter of her pussy on him before she came undone on him. he bit your bottom lip, smiling before he, too, came undone inside you, making sure to fill you up with every load of his dick before he felt you almost fall on him.

he got you on his arms carrying you over to your bed and letting you rest your head against his chest, his hand patting your head and making sure you rested, even if that meant he would be your pillow now.

how the fuck did you get a demon to cuddle you?

[womanofwords]

Hay, um, I don't know if you're taking story requests right now or if this is how it's supposed to be done, but I've had this one reader x batfam thing stuck in my head for a while and I figured I'd at least see if I could get your thoughts on it.

So y/n runs away after the yandere starts getting out of hand. Maybe it starts similar to Cold Hearts with y/n getting hurt. Eventually, y/n runs into Bane while trying to get out of Gotham. He hears her story and helps her get out using his private boat or something. The family sees her getting while searching for her in costume.

Bane takes y/n to some island compound and gives her a room to stay in while he decides what to do with her. Eventually, he takes her on as an apprentice, and they start to bond, three or so months in, she accidentally calls him dad and then again and again, and soon enough, she's unironically calling Bane things like papa and daddy and he's calling her his own little pet name( in my head I imagine it "little dumbbell " but you do whatever). They, of course, create a costume for her to where when she's helping Bane with his stuff, I imagine it being various shades of blue with a mask reminiscent of her papa's.

One day, the batfam finds the compound and crashes in demanding to know where y/n is. Bane is surprised to see them but takes the opportunity to introduce his new partner

"Well, Batman, I don't think she'd want to go home even if you could take her. But how we take the time for you to meet my new apprentice"

Y/n leaps onto the scene in costume, now a tower of muscle thanks to Daddy's exercise regiment. The fam doesn't recognize her thanks to the costume and new muscles.

"Where is y/n Whane??!!!" Batsie screams

"Dead," y/n replies, "killed herself, something about how even if her family cared enough to want her back, they'd never get to her."

The bats are horrified by this and leave after a large brawl ensues.

They find out the truth eventually and start trying to get her back to no evail.

I don't have much more than that, but I still feel it was worth presenting to you.

I honestly think you read my mind, because I've been having a similar idea for a while now. Bane would make a great parent, if the standard for 'great parent' was being slightly more attentive than Bruce Wayne and remembering things other than their name and maybe their school. Since none of the Batfam really look at Reader (that plus the bulking up), that would go some way to explaining why they don't recognise her when she shows up with a new identity.

Bonus point for the Batfam realising that after searching Gotham for a dead body matching your description and not finding one because you're not dead (and they couldn't describe you anyway), you never actually died and was in front of them the whole time, as Bane's 'daughter'.

"How did you not notice her leaving to go and meet me, Batman?" Bane taunted. "If she's really so unfortunate as to be your biological daughter."

"Alfred handled most things," Bruce admitted. "We just want Y/N to understand that she has nothing to fear from us."

"But I always do!" you insisted. "Your son stabbed me with a serrated katana and you told me to consider his feelings. Hell no. Not taking my chances."

"Y/N, get away from that monster!" Damian demanded. Typical Damian, expecting things to go his way.

"Leave my daddy alone!" you yelled. "You have your dad and I have mine! Now go away!"

"But Y/N, I'm your daddy," Bruce said. "I'm the daddy to both of you."

"No, you're not! Don't be disgusting! Daddies play with their kids and know things about them! You're not my daddy!"

"Good girl, Y/N," Bane said, hugging you proudly. Bruce's stomach turned. "Let's leave this flock of bats in their belfry. You need to meet your protein goals, don't you?"

"Uh-huh," you said, relaxing into Bane's touch as he led you away.

"My sister doesn't love me," Damian whimpered. "And she thinks I'm not her brother."

"I should kill Bane just for looking at Y/N," Jason growled.

"I'll help you get away with it," Dick said.

"We'll need a new tactic." Bruce's voice cut through the plotting. "Something to aid Y/N in realising that we love her."

"She used to always want to read my books. I'll gift some to her," Jason suggested.

"Y/N could totally use a girls' day," Stephanie said. "She can't be left alone with just Bane. She needs girls around her."

"We can discuss the details later," Bruce said. "Let's go home."

The bats retreated to their belfry, which was much colder than they would have liked.

[rusty-noodle]

⋆˚࿔ walking in v.2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

feat. monster trio x gn!reader

My last one was very well received! So I’m making another one! Should I do more characters following the first one's plot? this one's kind’ve lot different. Enjoy my loves! (I say this is gender neutral, but Sanji does use words of endearment that could be implied to be feminine!) V.1 -> walking in Synopsis: monster trio walking in on you in... situations (muahaha) CW: Nudity (non-graphic), embarrassment, sexual tension and implications, language, pet names. Luffy-537words Sanji-546 and 342words zoro-446words

Luffy

The water falls onto the tiles and into the drain below, you hum a tune as you scrub the soap off of your body. You step out your wet feet making pitter patter noises with every little step you take.

you reach for your towel that hung on a bar next to the shower

Then the door creeks open

“oh sorry…” Your captain says, no remorse

“LUFFY!” You yelp hurrying for the towel and throwing it over yourself

“What the hell!” You shout face flushing

“whats the matter?” He asks walking into the room

“you…!” The nerve on this guy, he just saw you completely bare. Nothing covering you, raw. How could he just sit there?

little did you know, behind that nonchalant face

I just walked in on them, thats bad, can they see how red my ears are? They must think im crazy! I mean hot damn they looked good- thats not the point!

he mentally scolded himself

he clears his throat “i just needed a rag” he smiles walking over to where you grabbed your towel you were now holding tight to your body.

He walks out like nothing happened

leaving you astonished

——————

dinner was awkward, your ears were burning the entire time. Your hand running through your hair when you two were interacting in conversation.

You catch yourself staring at him across the table. He’s just happily scarfing down meat, like he didn’t just see you in your most vulnerable state. Does he even care? You shake your head, cheeks burning again.

“You okay?” he asks, mouth full.

“I—uh—yeah,” you stutter, shoving a bite of food in your mouth just to do something.

He grins. “You’re acting weird.” You almost choke. “I’m not!”

He tilts his head. “You keep lookin’ at me like you’re mad or something.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Okay~,” he shrugs.

But you catch it this time—a tiny smirk tugging at his lips.

That little shit.

Sanji

you giggled, holding up a shirt you were planning on wearing up to the mirror,

“oh yes! This is definitely my colour!” You hummed, setting it down to grab a different piece of clothing

“my dear! Breakfast is… ready…”

Sanji stood in your door way, mouth wide, cigarette fallen on your floors at this point, nose twitching, threatening to bleed everywhere

how could he make such a rookie mistake? Not knocking before entering? How could he, it was a beautiful mistake, but still a mistake!

you huff and try to cover yourself up with your hands, to not much avail he falls to the floor on his knees

“thank you for this blessing! Im sorry mon cheri! This will never happen again!” He shouted, closing his eyes shut

“oh…!” You say to your surprise, quickly pulling your clothes on as he sat on the floor, eyes still squished together

“I'm… modest…” you hum raising an eyebrow, his reaction definitely made you feel less stressed, yes it was embarrassing, and he just saw where the sun don't shine but his reaction was a tad funny,

a blessing? How cute…

“ah yes!” He rises back up to his feet “I'm sorry ma belle!” He flutters his eyes open and quickly leaves for the dining room

——————

as soon as you two are done eating he’s at your side, apologizing like if he doesn’t he’ll drop dead on the spot.

“Im sorry again gorgeous…!”

He’s practically groveling beside you as you clear your plate, hands folded like he’s about to recite a prayer.

"I swear on the Baratie, on the All Blue, on my entire spice rack—I’ll never walk in without knocking again!"

You snort into your drink. "You make it sound like I died in there."

"I almost did," he says, clutching his chest. “I’ve seen heaven and I wasn’t ready.”

You glance at him sideways, trying to stay cool. "You’re such a drama queen."

He leans in, close enough for his voice to dip low—silky, teasing a spark of confidence surging through him

“Only for you, ma belle… Though I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance someday—if invited, of course.”

You choke. He winks, picks up your plate, and hops off like he didn’t just drop a flirt bomb and walk away. You blink at his retreating back, face warm.

“huh?”

how the tables turned

(i kinda had two outcomes for sanji so heres another one for you sanji simps ❤️)

——————

“im so sorry gorgeous!” He whined next to you,

“hmm?” Nami spoke up “what did you do Sanji?” She asks, putting down her newspaper to give him a curious look.

“I walked in on them changing!” he huffed.

Your whole body locks up.

“Sanji!” you squeak, face burning.

Nami perks up with a mischievous smile. “Oh? Did you now?”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” he blurts out, eyes wide and frantic. “I swear I didn’t mean to! I was just telling them breakfast was ready and i forgot to knock!—”

“Sanji.” You look up at him, pleading. “Please stop talking.”

He shuts up immediately, lips pressed tight, clearly panicking.

A beat passes.

He scoots a little closer, voice small. “Are you mad at me…?”

You sigh, trying not to look at him directly—because of course he has the softest, guiltiest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“No,” you mumble.

“You’re sure? Because if you are, I’ll go stand in the rain until you forgive me, mon chéri.”

You let out a quiet laugh, covering your face with your hand. “You don’t have to do that…”

He visibly relaxes. “Good… I really like when you smile at me. I’d rather see that than anything else.”

Your heart does a little skip. You glance at him, his own face pink, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

It’s sweet. Embarrassing, still. But maybe… kinda sweet.

Zoro

(Sorry same shower premise like luffy’s 😭)

The room is warm with steam, your damp skin cool against the air. You’re mid-way through pulling your undergarment up, humming softly to yourself, hair still dripping from your shower—

Click!

The door swings open.

"Oi, you seen my—"

Zoro freezes.

You freeze.

“oh…” you both think

The undergarment is bunched awkwardly halfway sitting at your knees

Your eyes meet.

Silence.

Then—

“ZORO!” you shout, yanking your undergarment up as fast as humanly possible.

“I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING,” he blurts, spinning around so fast he nearly headbutts the wall. “NOTHING. I MEAN—NOT—LIKE, NOT ON PURPOSE—”

You grab a towel and throw it at his head with deadly accuracy. It hits the back of his neck as he stumbles back out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

"Knock next time!"

“I thought this was the supply closet!” he shouts from the hallway.

“It’s literally my room!”

“Same hallway!”

——————

later that day you decided to train up on the crows nest, borrowing some of zoros weights when he wasn't looking.

Once you reach the top, zoro’s there, polishing his swords

you debate leaving but he calls you over

“hey… comere…” he mumbles

you trot over, as he starts to speak again

“Sorry…” he says gruffly, turning away, making sure not to look at your face. He refuses to see your reaction

"Hmm? What did you say?" You try to hold back a smirk that threatened to break across your face

"I said sorry, damnit..."

"Sorry for...?" You continue to drag it on

"Walking in on you!" he grumbled

"I know..." you whisper back

"damn minx.. think this is funny?" his voice low and gruff

"Yeah" you giggle

---------------------------------------------------------

ahhh thank you for reading! if i missed any CW please tell me so I can fix it!!!

[patri56001]

Fic idea! Tim once heard his parents say something along the lines of "if you want to be rich, you spend other people's money not your own" and for whatever reason didn't pay it much attention until he wants something and Bruce tells him no bc he can't justify it on paper, fine. BUT NOW he is pissed at Bruce bc he won't buy it for him neither bc "Your vigilante persona doesn't need a car, Tim. You already have a motorcycle, keep your civilian car and that's final"

"You just don't want me to have a cooler car than the batmobile, Bruce" he mutters.

"what?"

"Nothing, B."

So later that week he is still pouting and gets kidnapped by Ra's again. (It's that time of the month) And Ra's ranting about all he can give Tim if he becomes his heir or something, and Tim gets an idea... Use Ra's money to get his car. Bruce won't know bc he keeps his vehicles in another place from the batcave and won't see the transaction on the bank. So he plays along with Ra's until he buys him the parts and he builds it hidden from the batfam. Now, of course he has to offer something to Ra's, so he draws up a contract. He won't become Ra's heir or spouse, but he will allow the occasional visit and dinner or chess game, and give him attention (nothing sexual ffs). And he doesn't think much of it until the car is done, and he is testing it with Cassie, Bart and Kon, and explains how he got it and they are stunned by a full minute before laughing so hard they cry.

"DUDE you are Ra's sugar baby" Kon says wheezing.

"WHAT N- .... OH MY GOD I TOTALLY AM" Tim said horrified

"Oh My God Tim, I want to be there when you tell Damian" says Cassie.

"You can win every argument now, just threaten to become his Grandma" Bart said with pure delight in his eyes.

Tim tried to seem annoyed but the notion appealed to him. "No one says anything to anyone... Or else Bruce will have a stroke.." he tried to sound serious but they just stared at each other and burst laughing at the situation.

Months go by and they develop a system to keep it a secret, they don't speak about it unless they are behind steel walls at their own secret base (thanks Ras) and bc the core four are separated from the JL and the titans and are their own hero organization, they don't have to justify their budget or anything they get to anyone. But that doesn't mean that the JL isn't questioning how they get many of their rare or expensive gadgets.

As part of their agreement, Tim has to answer anytime Ra's calls him to check on him and his training. So Tim is having breakfast with the whole family one rare morning, his phone is on the table, for some reason he is not near it when his phone goes up and it's a phone call from Ra's... Only his contact number is saved as "Sugar Daddy" instead of "Incoming headache" bc Kon and Bart played a prank on him. And since he never knows when Ra's is going to call him, he just shouts for someone else to answer the call bc he doesn't think that it's Ra's.

So of course Damian answers the call

"Good morning, you have the misfortune to be calling Timothy Drake's phone, now fortunately for me I don't know who you are, given the fact that you not only are unfortunate enough for needing to talk to Drake, but have a bigger misfortune of being saved as Drake's Sugar Daddy, would you care to leave a message?"

The silence is so loud at the dinning room that everyone heard the call end after a few seconds. And Tim gets back to the room and everyone is staring at him all weird. He asked what was going on and who called.

Damian just hands him his phone casually and says "Your sugar daddy called but didn't leave any messages" and goes back to eating while Tim blue screens and panics bc he forgot to change the contact name... And Bruce is seconds away from paper bagging it, Alfred is drilling a stare at him, everyone else is just shocked.

"I DON'T HAVE AN ACTUAL SUGAR DADDY I SWEAR, BART AND KON WERE JUST PLAYING A PRANK ON ME, BRUCE DICK FUCKING BREATH!" Tim yelled, but ain't looking at Cass bc she knows he's lying. But he is begging her to not say anything. Bruce and Dick are just breathing heavily bc "goddamn it Timmy please don't do that to us"

"Guys seriously, I'm rich enough to be a sugar daddy, it was a prank, I swear" he is giving the performance of a lifetime bc Alfred will beat his ass if he finds out the truth. And it's not until Casa straight up lies to them, saying that Tim is saying the truth, that the rest of the family calms down, and they forget about it, but as soon as it's possible Cass interrogates him, and just helps him (I swear they match each others freaks better than anyone else) and starts asking Tim for stuff as well. (I just think Ra's gave Tim a personal debit card for him to use freely)

[lambcultist]

　　　　𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍. 𝐸.𝒲.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — ‧₊˚ ⋅ part one here ! ellie must learn to be okay with what terrifies her as you begin to fight the invasion of your respiratory system. she's going to light a fire for you, no matter how much it burns her skin, as she is determined not to be the reason you go cold.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — ‧₊˚ ⋅ MINORS DNI ( 18+ ) modern au. brother's best friend!ellie williams x fem!reader. ellie has haphephobia (fear of touch). reader has... something (hanahaki disease). reader also has anxiety and insecurities. angst. disaster lesbians. vivid descriptions of: hospitals, ptsd, foster system + past child abuse, poor mental health, panic attacks + fear, terminal illness + symptoms of nausea, vomiting, coughing, needles, medications (morphine) — gross/graphic descriptions, warning for squeamish readers. hurt / comfort. reader is 19, ellie is 21.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — ‧₊˚ ⋅ this part includes discussion of ellie's backstory, involving child abuse and neglect as well as the foster system. she suffers ptsd and this is where her haphephobia originated from—i've tried to portray this with respect and realism. there is no vivid description of these events but heavy mentions/references to it. just a trigger warning! i love this little fic so much. i don't know what to call this? a mini mini-series? a duology? anyway— sorry this part took so long. thank you for reading, i love you. and ellie. aaaaaaaaa.

　　　　m.list　wc — 7k.　mdni, please ♡

a constant itch irritating your arm, a monotonous beeping that grates your ears, a soulless room. it's gloomy, the only light granted by an overcast sky through the window.

you're waiting for a different kind of natural light. waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and it's taking its sweet time.

this is supposed to be comfortable. this was intended to be a comfortable few days. end of life care.

it's been one month. there's nothing comfortable about this.

morphine flows through your veins, it masks the aches only for a little. you barely notice how your breath stutters and shakes anymore, it's easier with the aid of the drug, but you're just not sure that it's better than being at home, conscious of every impairment.

you try not to look at the iv as much as it begs your attention. it will only make you feel sick.

the clock ticks away every second until dark. every hour blends into one another, each nurse flowing through the room seeming like they are simply the same words in a different font. you think you remember receiving another dose of morphine, but it doesn't feel like it.

your phone screen lights your face as you check the time. ten.

your eyes close and you think of her. it isn't like it used to be. it's not that you wonder what she is doing or if she is thinking of you. it's that she promised a visit soon.

if you get through this night, you'll be able to see her sooner.

you own a stuffed animal named hope. you couldn't touch the poor thing as your descent into ill-health turned dangerously fast. you'd look at the bear and think about how ridiculous the name is.

you've clung to hope for years and it's as if reality has slapped you in the face for it; a punishment for your wistfulness, served in rose scented bile.

hope was futile.

but now, it doesn't feel that way; ellie made progress.

so, hope sits in your lap day in and day out. she shares this gurney with you, and you squeeze and play and fidget with her. a piece of home, youth, and a reminder to fight what once seemed like a losing battle.

another hour passes. turning over and lying on your side takes the breath out of you for a moment, a hoarse gasp following after the action. it is never this hard, usually.

you squeeze onto hope. those browned curls warm your chest, the fluff soft on your fingertips, but you don't feel any less alone.

being a special case sucks.

they needed to give you a room away from other patients. from the moment you were wheeled into the emergency room you were treated like a risk. some people have allergies, you know. it made you bitter. your flowers are something beautiful.

you may be overly attached to something that harms you more than it does care for you. but ellie gave you these flowers. she's turned you into a walking perfume. maybe if those people knew who she was, they'd understand rather than turn up a nose and cringe at the scent.

sebastian sees you for a few minutes each day. he wears a mask—he told you the smell of florals puts him in a bad mood these days. he answers the phone slower these days.

your mother has been busy with work.

something tells you that's bullshit.

the nurses lack in personality. they're all bubbly and kind and at first, they seemed to look over you with pity. now, they seem eager to get your bed empty and ready for the next unfortunate patient.

are they getting careless? with time racing toward you until you meet your fate, perhaps they think it wiser to save resources? something about the dose you received earlier just wasn't right. it's not supposed to wear off this fast, right?

you're not supposed to be feeling like this anymore. that flicker of hurt inside your ribcage every time you take in a breath is back. the embrace of silence isn't supposed to be this goddamn loud. your ears ring as you glance around the dark room, something eerie in the way that cars and sirens yell and screech in the city outside.

the symphony of chaos out there is overarching at this point, you cannot even hear your pulse. but you can feel your feet tapping against the end of the bed like a metronome out of time.

you search your brain for lyrics that make sense and nothing of the sort erupts. it's all blurred—it's all panic. i don't wanna be alone anymore. you just want out, every thought pointing towards the door. if you had the strength to rip off all these needles and wires and march out there, take your life back, you might've done it already.

you tenderly brush a petal from the top of hope's head after coughing, reaching towards the side table for your phone. however late it may be now doesn't matter, you need noise; something that won't make you feel so small.

ellie put together a pretty good playlist for you. that'll do.

you underestimate the effort it requires to get your phone at this very moment, an audible whine leaving your lips as you stutter and struggle for breath. it pulls something. some neglected muscle in your back lashes out and you draw back into the bed.

hope tumbles out of your hold and onto the floor.

so you're not even allowed the solace of material comfort today, huh?

you have a hundred 'last straw's every day. this was the last of the last. you're in pain.

her fingers move along the fretboard with a practised passion, the joints tired out after hours of rehearsal and perfecting. sometimes ellie writes, but nights like these, she remembers why she doesn't do it often.

it doesn't come right the first time around. not ever.

she stops and watches the window. the sky is a blank canvas tonight, no stars nor flashing lights, just blackness and fog. her eyes follow the usual path around her room, twinkling string lights and old polaroids on the wall. those ones were her first happier memories.

ellie sighs, her fingers resorting to picking a random, comfortable pattern on the strings of her guitar as she stares down at the words scrawled into her journal. the acoustic rests in her lap and the pen hooked into the strap of her top.

she decides it's time to quit for the night. rearranging this bridge a fourteenth time is fruitless, because still, nothing could describe the feeling she had when she finally had the courage to hold your hand.

and still, nothing can describe how pathetic she feels for being afraid to do it again.

ellie liked it. she really, truly did. she cradled your hand with the same gentleness present in the way she holds the neck of her guitar. she took care and warmed every bone in your fingers, rubbed her thumb across the back of your palm to help you breathe.

she wasn't only doing something good for herself, but for you—she was admitting to you her blindness. she was taking the first step in the right direction.

now, ellie can't seem to replicate the same bravery she walked into your bedroom with. she's just a coward.

the first step is supposed to be the hardest—why did it feel so easy?

why doesn't anything feel as easy since?

she lets out a sigh, deep and slow, rubbing her face and moving her guitar to the bed. she's closing the blinds when her phone begins to vibrate and she squints a bit, fishing through her pockets. probably some scammer, she doesn't have anyone to call her these days—

okay, definitely not a scammer.

it's you.

answering feels just as easy as holding your hand felt. maybe it's the spontaneity. she doesn't have a chance to think about it, really. all ellie knows is that it's past midnight and you've called her.

no hello, no joking around—none of that, simply her voice rushing to beat yours. 

"are you okay? it's late."

"ellie, i just wanna hear your voice." nothing could prepare ellie for the way your voice sounds. she's never felt such a strong punch to the gut, but your voice—wavering and weak, quite clearly in the throes of tears—it has the impact of a hard fist. "please. i'm scared."

and she softens quickly, holding her breath so that she can hear all of you. how your own breath hitches, your tone runs pitchy around the edges, you sniffle. she can picture you in a hospital bed with teary eyes, and fuck. it's not right.

"i'm here." ellie sits at the edge of her bed, lip drawing between her teeth. she won't draw attention to your cries. it's not what you need.

"everything hurts," you say through a gasp. there's no need for convincing, ellie believes you from just the sound of your pain alone. there's a familiarity in the heartache, it's something ellie knows too, now.

"i'm here," she repeats. she feels so stupidly capable right now, her shoulder pressing the phone to her ear as she holds her hands together, rubbing the skin so gently as though it is your softness she caresses. she's losing herself to the thought of what she thinks she'd do in your presence at this moment. "i'm always here, don't panic. do you need me to be here when you go to sleep?"

without hesitance, you respond. "yes." and something of it makes ellie feel as though she's neglected you. she needs to hear your voice now, and not just muted by the peaking and crackling static of a call; she needs to be at your bedside. 

and there's no questioning that you need it too. she doesn't need to see you to know what you need. you need to see her courage once more.

"okay, baby— i—" she buries her face into her hand and suppresses a groan, rubbing out her temple. vulnerability is clawing its way out of her throat and yet, something in her still tries to stop it before it becomes too much. calling you that, ugh… it felt like second nature. "okay, i'm gonna stay on the line."

"everything hurts, it's too much," you say. you tried to speak, anyway—it comes out in a whisper, as though that's all you can manage. "can't breathe."

"i need you to try," ellie encourages. "but just slowly. think, maybe it hurts because you need to slow down, yeah?"

slow or fast, light or deep, breathing feels as though it's twisting each thorn, piercing your heart and your lungs. ellie may be right. maybe, it's your fear that does it. after all, these flowers have what seems to be their own intuition, and they prey on your anxiety.

and ellie's just as lost, trying to talk you down—god, if she could hold you right now…

you hear your name and it startles you to attention once more. "just need you to make it through this night, okay?" she asks. "if you get some sleep, yeah, i'll come hang out with you tomorrow?"

"yes, yeah," you reply shortly, sniffling. "please."

it's quieter after that. ellie coaxes you into silence, she promises you there will be warmth tomorrow. whatever that means, it brings you the slightest hope once more.

going through the motions of the morning was difficult for ellie. 

the shower burnt her skin red and raw yet she swore the water was lukewarm, her breakfast took its time going down, and when she sat in her car and turned the heater on, the air leaving the vents felt icy. she had not the patience for anything, her mind askance.

more like, she was waging war with herself—i got this. i'm gonna march into that room and take back what i lost. of course, the situation is not 'all or nothing', even if that's how she treats it. there are baby steps necessary for her recovery, but she'd rather not give herself flowers for those. and ellie's well aware that she's setting herself up for disappointment by rejecting the small wins. it's like trying to knock down a stone wall with a wrecking ball made of cardboard. it doesn't work.

she just wants to be normal; she just wants to be what you need.

and walking into that gloomy room, scanning every wire hooked up to your body, and, frankly, her ears assaulted by all kinds of beeping, it raises her hackles. hospitals are quiet, until they're not. they're all hushed voices and whispered reassurances, only for that to be combated by monitors and machines ellie has no idea the purpose of. they feel malicious.

"hey." 

the word startles you. but ellie sees nothing but relief in the softness of your gaze.

"hi."

ellie takes a seat, and she feels like she's accidentally just glued herself to this spot— it's something she'd liken to a duty of care. like she can't leave. "so, you're feeling better after last night? i wish i could've done more, you know, but…"

"the nurse gave me a lighter dose by mistake," you reply. "that's why i was in so much pain." your voice sounds more distant, more uncaring of what words come out—your eyes run ovals around her. it's as if you can barely believe she's sitting here. it's the fairest sight you've had since your last day at home, and you thank heavens she's not changed. every freckle is where you last pictured it, the corners of her lips curl up with awkward hesitance, that one strand of hair that never sat with the rest is still antagonising her.

her hands are bare. no gloves.

"shit, for real? that's fuckin'..." ellie trails off, replacing what would have been a protective rant with a simple sigh.

she doesn't like this. nobody does, seeing you weak and scared, perishing in the coldest place imaginable. but that doesn't make it fair to avoid you.

it doesn't make her want to be here any less. ellie's almost shocked by herself when her eyes lay upon your hand and she feels this absurd, unconscious jolt in her own hand with the instinct to reach out.

"how's your mom? and seb..?" she asks, her eyes set on your hands as much as yours are on hers.

"uh… next question?" you murmur, flashing a lopsided grin.

"oh." ellie blinks, and again, she feels that tightening in her wrist, this urge she's barely able to restrain. "you haven't seen them?"

"not for a few weeks," you say, shaking your head. "they're really busy lately." 

ellie can tell you believe that excuse as much as she does. and what does it make her feel? it's unusual for her. it targets something tucked away inside of her, blanketed by confusion and tears; the inner child.

she finds herself wanting to whine. that's not fair. 

"that's— but they're— you're their baby. they can't make some time?"

you brush it off with a croaky voice, taking the cup of water at your bedside and having a small sip. "i'm not sure. it's fine though."

her eyes flick from your hands to your lips, the skin no longer as soft as it used to be, instead dry. it reminds her of that post-crying feeling, and even worse is the barely restrained hurt in your eyes that she catches. 

ellie knows it isn't fine. it isn't fair. she's been lonely. she's been the black sheep in every herd she was passed between, she's been the skeleton hidden in tiny closets. she was young, and innocent, and so easily forgotten. passed from family to family, no stay intended to be permanent, she suffered—she was deprived of attention.

it was always the warmer families that couldn't keep her, and the colder ones that she had to endure for longer. she was replaced, she was ignored, she was neglected, so long that touch soon felt like a foreign luxury. 

and soon, it became not a luxury, but something to fear. for a while the only touch ellie felt would be a push or shove on the playground, and of course, she'd push back and scoff (and perhaps use some language too vulgar for her age). it became something to cry over when she'd leave detention and whomever she was under the care of would be waiting for her. arriving to an address that was not hers, different homes that never felt like home, where human mistakes left bruises on her body.

touch became something worth flinching over. she learned to see kicks and punches coming before they left their impact.

and now that it's all over, ellie never unlearned that.

inside, there's still a little girl who aches for love. it stung, but she craved it. and to ellie, looking at you, withering and wilting by the lack of her affections, it feels like looking at that little girl.

so she feels that she is being pulled, suddenly, the legs of her chair screeching across the floor so she may sit as close as possible. it's no conscious effort, just her limbs working in tandem with what her heart needs at this moment.

ellie reaches, and then pauses, breathing in through her nose. "can i—?"

your lips work into a small, but reassuring smile, pursed tight to contain excitement. you don't want to be overwhelming, or intimidating, or too desperate, or whatever else—doesn't matter if your entire predicament is the overwhelming result of a desperate yearning, you tense like a statue just in case. "of course."

from their frozen position in the air, her hands finally move. you weren't sure where she was going for, but ellie has been telling herself this is what she would do to ever since the last time she saw you. 

she cups your face, palms meeting your cheeks slowly, as though she holds a piece of her very soul in her hands.

your two sets of slow breathing mingle in the silence of the room, and for seconds ellie just holds your face. then, her thumbs caress the high points; they run along your cheekbones, her callouses press into the curve of your jawline, as though mapping out every depth or crevice in your face. analysing the structure, appreciating the curves and the softness, not only with her skin, but her eyes. it feels like she can see through you, and it's not even an invasive feeling. in fact, it's not been this easy for you to breathe in a long time.

ellie thinks of her half-written poetry from last night. her mind is fresh with ideas, the passion reborn. she's realising it now, that unless she turns this into a habit, she won't be able to remember how it feels to touch your skin. she'll be back tomorrow, or maybe she won't even leave. it would be alright to hold your hand as you sleep.

your cheeks, once lifelessly icy, now warmed by ellie, rest in the palm of her hands like they are a bed. her face is rose-flushed, but more calm than earlier. inside, there's fire spreading from heart to hands. it doesn't burn like she thought it would. sure, the initial connection was scorching, but now it's comfortable, healing.

something beautiful happened. you would describe ellie's touch like some kind of healing power, in fact, so might she, in a different way; things that used to feel impossible for the both of you are quite easier.

you can breathe on your own, without medical interference—no drugs, no machines. your voice is clearer, food stays down, you can stay awake. ellie wasn't aware of it herself until you stood for the first time in weeks. it was like she had seen a ghost rise from the grave.

of course, it wasn't like you'd taken any miracle cure. you were frail and failing to maintain your balance. it was okay, though, because ellie darted over to catch you. she walked you to the café downstairs.

she could see herself quickly becoming nothing short of an addict to the feeling of your skin beneath her fingertips. when once she was uncomfortable by the feeling of another's shirt, she now feels like it isn't enough to dig her fingers into your pyjamas.

doctors who were certain you were perishing before were now bemused. tests and scans were ordered.

not only was there a clearer picture and tidier result, but the specialists found that what little was left of your flowers were charred. it aligned with what nurses had been reporting as well—a higher body temperature, and black, dried petals leaving your system. 

the hanahaki was dying, and you were blossoming. eyes brighter and face rounder, fuller, softer.

you could go home.

and it could've been better—perhaps it would've felt nicer if your room had been cleaned before you got home, and if things weren't so awkward between you and your family—you can't help looking with bitter eyes at them for how they had acted. it was like you were disposable. 

but getting to see ellie for the first time since you got home makes up for it all. strategically planned so that your mother and sebastian won't be around, of course.

you open the door before she can knock. it's like the tables have turned, and ellie is the one who struggles to breathe when you're near, looking so alive and so comfortable like this, with a smile on your face that knocks the wind out of her lungs, and a recovered lust for life. 

"hi," you say with a small nod, and you inch closer almost hesitantly, which she notices, of course. to save you the trouble of asking for it, she wraps her arms around your middle and holds you. 

but you don't miss the hitch in her breath. still, every time you touch, she stiffens or holds her breath. what would you take it for, if not discomfort? this time, though, when you try to pull away, ellie snorts a little and tightens her grip, nosing into your neck.

"you're fine, baby."

the look on her face when she pulls away is reverent and somewhat sheepish, the corner of her lips curled up and eyelids heavy. if there's one thing ellie hates about this, it's the process. why can't she snap her fingers and be rid of the side effects of her past? why must she sit through all of the messy feelings, the awkwardness, the way that touch still makes her skin blister even when she likes it?

and how, still, are you so patient with her?

"listen, so, uh… i wasn't sure if you ever wanna see another damn flower again, but, i figured you deserve something nice, right?" ellie pushes the single tulip forward, shrugging one shoulder. "s'not a rose, at least. think you might hate them now. that would be reasonable, yeah.."

you nod, that same grin on your face as always, plucking the flower from her grip. "this is okay. but— can i have another hug..? just one more?"

"oh—" ellie's throat tightens, arms opening before her mouth. "sweet girl, you don't even need to ask. c'mere."

this time, you sink into her. it's like being doused in fire, her body warming yours on the way to the car, all because she couldn't bring herself to let go. and that brings another one of those half smiles to her face that she always tries to hide. a hint of pride. progress.

she thinks about resting a hand over your thigh on the drive—it would be even better progress, but something makes her hesitate. something of a debate takes place in her mind before she finally does it, and once more, she feels that sense of pride. the pride of each move forward burns every doubt as though they're pages in an old diary.

plus, ellie truly enjoys the way your leg tenses beneath her hand and how you're quick to gaze out the window with the hint of a smile on your lips.

the drive is empty of conversation, the space filled by the stereo, and it should be that everything about this is already familiar to you. the route, the person, the intention. you're heading to the park, but this time you sit in the passenger seat, you actually trust that the driver will keep you safe (you'd never tell your brother this, but ellie is a far calmer driver than him), and your stomach isn't tying itself into knots. your breathing isn't stifled by stems and thorns and petals.

sometimes you still struggle with chasing for her touch now you've had your samples of it, but it battles with the need to make her comfortable. and so, you grip onto her sleeve as you walk to the old ice cream van stationed in its typical spot. your fingers cling to the fabric, pulling it taut, in the hopes that it won't hurt her, but soothe your need. 

"cookies and cream?" ellie asks, glancing down. your heart lurches when she starts pulling her arm back, only to replace her sleeve with her hand.

you search her for fear from the corner of your eye, but there's no wide eyes or bitten lips. "uh, yeah. i miss it."

"i'll have it too," she says, giving you a fond grin. "you don't know how much of the stuff i've been pigging out on these past few months. it makes me think of you."

you let out an involuntary giggle, squeezing her hand. "i extended my comfort food to you?"

"pretty much, yeah." ellie nods. "i started gorging myself the second i got kicked out of your house."

"well, i'll take that as though you were doing so in my honour," you reply, a cheesy grin on your face. "i missed having an appetite."

soon enough, with a cone in each of your hands, you sit beside ellie on a bench and share a comfortable silence. birds sing in the distance, trees shielding you from the summer fever.

ellie is so unusually quiet that it's powerful, and you turn your head towards her at the very moment that she is, apparently, leaning closer, and the sudden contact makes her jump back this time—something about the unpredictability of it frightened her.

"jesus, you almost killed me."

"oh—! sorry. payback, i guess, because you almost k—"

once ellie closes her mouth (that comment rattled her a bit too hard), she gives you a light pinch on the arm. "don't say that kinda stuff, that's morbid as fuck. i didn't try to—"

"sorry," you repeat, laughing softly. "it's a little bit funny though."

"it's not funny." ellie's words are betrayed by her own chuckle, however. "that's a sore spot still."

"alright, i won't say that again. you have my word." you give ellie a tiny salute, then nod your head to the ice cream sitting idle in her hand. she's barely touched it, if at all. "are you okay? just.. thinking a lot?"

ellie glances down at her hand, a stream of melted ice cream dripping down her skin. "uh… yeah. just…"

she takes a pause, eyes flitting back to you, landing on your lips. she realises she must look like a deer in the headlights, and forces herself to look away with a halfhearted shrug of her shoulders.

"i'm just happy we're here."

why can't i just kiss her? ellie wracks her brain on the way home, so distracted she's driving on autopilot. the world passes by in blurs of colour, her heavy huffs of breath the only sound in the car. the scent of your perfume still lingers in your wake, and when she's idling at a red light, ellie looks over to the empty passenger seat. the sight of a little black petal clinging to the seat makes her smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

it's like you leave a little trail, the occasional remains of scorched flowers following you wherever you've been. maybe she'll pop this one into her journal tonight.

ellie takes the long way home. it's filled with deep sighs and her white-knuckling the steering wheel, her inner monologue rather unhelpful. if only she could explain why she halts right on the edge every time she is about to meet a goal.

she tries. she really thought she could do it today. she felt so ready to grasp your chin and press a little kiss on your smile, but she faltered at the last second, when you turned and caught her staring. fucking faltering. she always does it.why am i so fucking scared? she grits her teeth, willing herself not to pull over when tears start to pool. she's nearly home, anyway. yeah, she narrowly avoided death trying to merge with blurry vision and some asshole in her blind spot. but she just wants to be home.

it's like drowning in shallow waters; she should be fine, but something is holding her hostage. something keeps her holding her breath, something's weighing so heavy on her that she can't pull herself out. there's always something ugly working behind the scenes to keep her from living. whether she's conscious of it or not, there's a memory or an instinct that rears its head. nightmares, flinches, even a small gasp—it's as if her body remembers it more than her mind.

a hand near her head, it makes her think her hair will be yanked.

a movement too sudden, it makes her want to brace for impact, only for it to be the gentlest embrace.

ellie hates it. she hates the way you pull back with a crease worrying your brows and that cloying tone of voice ringing in her ears, the apologies and the check-ins. because she loves the touch. it felt so freeing to admit such a thing for the first time. ellie loves to touch you, but she's so scared, still, and what's worse is that pit of guilt that forms in her stomach every time she fails.

she needs this—to no longer be so alone, and to take up space, and to touch. for the little girl she once was, who was not given the grace to do those things. 

if healing was measurable, that would make this simpler. but it's easy to get lost in the wishes and the goals. it's not so easy to think about the journey it takes to meet those goals.

"ellie? ellie. did you mean to call? or did you butt dial?"

"no…" ellie murmurs. she holds her phone against her ear and closes her eyes. she definitely made somewhat of a spectacle by calling and saying absolutely nothing in return when you answered. "i wanted to call. just… want you to talk to me."

"oh… okay," you reply. she can hear the pleasant surprise in your voice, that and something like fondness. "that's kinda cute, els. you dropped me off two hours ago."

"yeah, i, uh— i miss you." the phone doesn't catch her sniffling, but it carries the shaking current in her words. "can you start talking my ear off now?"

"what— well, yes, but what's wrong?" 

"nothing, what do you mean?"

"come on, ellie," you groan, and she can picture you pinching the bridge of your nose like you always do when she's said something silly. but really, it's far from that. you're pushing your phone up to your ear and spamming the volume button so that you can hear her over the sound of your own increasing heartbeat, fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. "you're being all standoffish and stuff. like you've got something you need to get off your chest."

"uh… no." she clears her throat quite roughly, her free hand swiping at her eyes. "i just wanna hear your voice."

you know you shouldn't push. ellie will come to you when she's ready, like she always does, but this gnaws at you. it's hard to find a new topic when your brain drifts into all the possible explanations for ellie's hurt.

you never want to be the reason she's hurting. and if you are? what if you are? if you pushed boundaries today, or if you're just moving too fast? 

"okay, well, i miss you too," you begin. "i really like it when we hug. it's so warm and, like, comforting."

"i like it too," she says slowly. "you left a lil petal in my car."

"oh, right, that was probably from that coughing fit i had," you muse. "it really hurt, actually."

"you were very loud about that."

"how am i supposed to be quiet about choking?" you snort, but the moment is short lived. you're getting to the bottom of this. "can you please tell me what's wrong? we don't even have to dwell on it. just let me know."

"ah, it's just…" she lets out a flustered sigh, then starts to mumble. "just feeling generally shitty. that's all. i'm stressed. it's nothing you need to be worrying about."

"it's you, els, i do need to worry about it." you choose your words carefully but they flow easily. loving ellie has never required effort. you've spent years waiting for her to see it, and now it's the easiest it's ever been to show her. "i care. and i will always be here. i'm never going to vanish. i think i've made it very fucking clear i don't plan on doing that. i'm stubborn."

"yeah…" ellie swallows thickly and rests her chin in the palm of her hand, eyeing her lonely bedroom. "it's guilt. for… i dunno… just…"

you let ellie fall into silence. she's gathering the words to explain herself with—at least, you hope she is—and that is something you do not want to be pushy with.

"i hate how long this is taking," she says finally. "i want it. i'm ready for it. but my mind is just— it's like it's on a completely different track. i love you. but i'm so pathetic. i've made you wait so long."

"this isn't about me," you say. "i waited for you because i wanted to, and i'll wait as long as it takes. actually, i'm really impressed by you. you're making progress."

"but it's not fair. i hate that you have to be cautious. i wish— i mean, i wish i was normal. i wish i could snap out of it."

you stop her before she spirals further into a self deprecating rant, hushing her very gently. "you are normal. you're learning how to react to things that happened to you that should have never happened. and you're taking huge steps towards healing. and i am so proud of you. i really am."

"i'm scared, but it's not even about touch anymore," ellie murmurs, this time her sniffles sounding clear down the line. "i don't want to be too much. i don't want you to leave."

"i'm never leaving," you reply, voice softening like a blanket. "i love you, ellie. you couldn't get rid of me even if you tried."

by all means, you should be dead right now. you were knee deep in the grave when ellie came back and she battled her way into pulling you out. brute force and fear and love combined had made a new version of ellie, one who was determined to walk you out of that hospital.

"i just… can't.. accept myself," ellie says.

"you can't accept the journey," you correct, "look at the bigger picture, els. you are able to live life now in a way you could never have imagined one year ago. i haven't seen you wearing gloves in a while. that's incredible."

"i figured they were holding me back," she mumbles sheepishly. "i try not to wear them unless i really have to."

"see? that's amazing." you smile. "when i think about the past year, i think about all the milestones. i think about the first time we held hands, then when you traced my face, then when you sat in the hospital bed with me. i think you forget that this is a process and that you're gonna struggle with it sometimes, but that's just realistic. you can't make any progress at all if you won't allow yourself to fail."

"yeah," ellie whispers. she's resorted to fiddling with the little black petal she took home, her heart swelling as she listens to your voice. the calm of it all, the patience that never dies. she blinks back tears, and then speaks up. "thanks baby."

"do you feel a little bit less like the entire world is about to crush you into tiny pieces?"

"yes." ellie lets out a halfhearted laugh, smiling. "can you please start yapping about random shit now?"

"ugh, alright. you're gonna make me lose my voice again. actually, that might be a good thing. then i won't be so annoying."

ellie lets you continue without interruption. she holds that petal up to her chest, balled into her fist, and mulls over the conversation.

she's got to keep trying.

burnt flowers became few and far between, your coughing spells less frequent than ever. ellie noticed this before you did, and it was the biggest encouragement to her conquering her fears. she was healing, finally, and so were you—all because of her. 

life has this sense of normalcy now. she doesn't bristle at the feeling of a stranger passing by, she goes without her gloves more often. she gets less stares in public. ellie can see her old best friend without him looking as though she did something bad anymore; she just isn't alone.

she can wake from terrors in the middle of the night and no longer does she have to face them alone, crying in the dark and curling into balls. you're there to bring her back down when fear shoots up her spine. you, and hope—the teddy bear, that is, but the figurative idea as well. the unwavering patience, the trust, the optimism. 

ellie can hold your hand. she can hold you. she can snuggle and play with your hair, and she likes hers to be touched too. she can feel herself never wanting to let go of you. things she only ever heard of in tales of romance and vows, that she never thought she'd get to have. things she didn't think she even deserved. 

she thought she'd die alone, and now she's drawing pictures of you in her journal and scribbling promises beneath them; forever, sweet girl.

"this is a lot of touching and not a lot of drawing," you say, laughing softly at her distraction. you don't mind one bit, of course.

when you were in hospital, and ellie had caressed every inch of surface on your face, she had tried to take it all into her memory. now, she makes a habit of it, and insists it makes it easier to draw. you think she's simply sheepish about how much she enjoys it after all these years of avoidance.

"then don't be so pretty," ellie murmurs, swiping her thumb over your lashes. your eyes flutter and she catches her lip between her teeth, stifling a sigh.

there is one goal she hasn't met yet. 

still, she hasn't kissed you. 

she comes so close and every time something stops her. at first it was her own reluctance, now, it's like life won't give her the chance. last time she tried, it felt like there was some divine being fucking with her—the sky started pouring over the both of you as soon as the moment stood still enough for her to lean in.

this time, ellie's going to seize the moment. it starts with the light urge to kiss every individual lash, then your browbone, then of course, her eyes flick to your lips as though it's instinct.

she wonders if you think she's going to chicken out again, but you're none the wiser to her intentions in the first place right now. she thinks she's putting signals out with her eyes so heavy on yours, but she hasn't seen what you see. she hasn't seen the way she looks at you on a daily basis—this is no different; her eyes are practically hearts. you feel her gazing upon your every move, never to judge, but instead to possess.

her thumb now moves to your lower lip, shaky but sure as she gently parts your smile. and your lips, no longer dry or sore, but now pillowy and smooth, are the catalyst for what she is about to do. it reminds her how long you have waited, how much you have suffered, and her the same. the neglect, the rejections, the simmering anxieties.

the final push is thanks to the shared progress translated by your lips, the healing on both ends of a love that stays ignited, crackling, and refuses to burn no matter how long it stays lit.

ellie closes her eyes and at last, her soul feels whole, lips meeting yours for the very first time. she knows it is the first of many, because even as she runs out of breath, she can't pull away. it's much like a standoff, neither of you urgent to let go of the other after all this time.

and it pains you to be the one who pulls away first, but you were beginning to feel increasingly faint. you open your eyes but ellie is sat still as a pole, her eyes sewn shut for seconds after the kiss, her cheeks ablaze.

"you nearly killed me," you mumble, giggling at the way that she glares at you after.

"you are not allowed to say that, remember?"

"it was too good not to say right now!" you erupt into laughter as she grunts and tackles you without a moment's waste, your back hitting the bed and face attacked in the softest way imaginable; her lips scouting every area, a kiss planted in each spot like a claim. "okay, easy, easy. i love you too."

🏷️ @dolleyedfemme @valeisaslut @eriiwaii @ellieshothousewife @piercedome @therealhexstrap @jinxedbambi @heyimrye @rhian88 @g4ys0n @yoosohh @marvelwomenarehot0 @l0veylace @gold-dustwomxn @yashirawr @httpsiluvizzy @areyna

thank you for reading as always ♡

[chara-cat5]

lads isekai au ch 11

reader is gender neutral, warning: swearing, mdni

masterlist

first 1

previous 10

next 12

(q/a for any confused readers!!)

you woke up with with a start, shooting up and grasping at your chest. disoriented, it took a long minute before you actually felt mia's hands on you, trying to stabilize you and your pounding heart.

"breath, breath. you're safe, it's okay."

you met her gaze, seeing the dark circles under her eyes. she shifted sitting back down on the chair next to the bed.

"what..."

you paused, swallowing at the dryness of your throat. mia sat up, grabbing a glass water from the table and handing it to you.

"try to relax a bit. i'll explain, just... sip the water and sit back."

you gave a hesitant nod, sitting back against the pillows and sipping the water.

"you've been asleep for about two days... we're not sure what happened. one minute you were fine and then you just- just passed out."

you blinked at her. two days? you spent two days in that dream-like world? not even dream- like, you were asleep!

you touched your hand to your forehead, trying to think back to your dream. it had felt so real. like you forgot everything and stepped into another life. your life, you were sure of it, but not your... current life. it had felt medieval in nature, like the far away past. but even as you think about it now, details slip from your memory.

"i don't k-know if it's something i did or- or-"

you blinked back into reality, seeing the way tears pricked the corners of her eyes. reaching out to take her hand with one of yours and wiping away her tears with the other.

"hey, hey, mia. it's okay. i'm awake now right? and... i don't think it was your fault. i actually got some new information."

she sniffed, eyebrows pinching together in confusion.

"new information? what are you talking about?"

you let out a sigh, slipping your hand from her cheek. geez, you always put your foot in your mouth, huh?

"my dream. i think... i think it was a memory, not just a dream. it felt too real."

she let out a huff, rubbing her thumbs over the backs of your hands. she said your name, a conflicted look passing over her features.

"... are you sure it's not just a dream..."

you nodded, squeezing her hands.

"i'm sure. i just need time to sort it out."

a knock on the door startled the both of you, caleb poking his head in. a look of relief crossed over his face and he entered the room. the mouth watering smell of food following him.

"hey, poppy. how are you feeling? i got your favorite."

mia stood up so he could get by, putting the tray over your lap.

"thank you, caleb. it smells amazing."

he and mia made eye contact before shuffling out of the room. you watched them with full cheeks and raised eyebrows. you heard their mumbling, a few minutes passing before caleb came back in. he sat on the edge of your bed, watching you eat.

"what was that about?"

"don't worry too much, poppy."

he put he hand on the top of your head, gently ruffling your hair.

"how are you feeling? well rested?"

you huffed at his joke, pushing away his hand.

"i'm okay, caleb. why'd you kick mia out though."

"she hasn't been resting. i told her i could take care of you while she sleeps."

you nodded, feeling guilt over stressing her out like that. why did that happen and what did it all mean? more questions and less and less answers.

"anyway, i'm more curious about something else."

you hummed, turning to meet his gaze, only to startle and lean back. okay, he's close. he grabbed your shoulder, pushing you down into the mattress. in any other situation, you might have blushed, but the dark look in his eyes made your blood run cold. his voice feel into the darker one he used for colonel duties.

"you're gonna tell me who you are and what you know about this 'sylus'."

you felt your heart skip a beat, swallowing nervously. he wasn't supposed to know about him! and if he learned about him, what kind of ramifications would that even have.

"s-sylus? whose that?"

he huffed softly, using one hand to hold himself up while the other slid through a chunk of hair by your face.

"don't play dumb. i heard you and mia talking about it. you made it seem like he was oh so important to her, so i need to know. who is he?"

shit shit shit- he's not gonna let this go, is he? you looked away, your hands shifting to push at his shoulders in an attempt to get him to back off.

"he... he's just a friend of her's. i had a disagreement with him and was worried she'd get upset with me..."

that didn't seem to convince him, his hand sliding from your hair to your chin, making sure you held his gaze.

"he must be important if you think she'd choose him over you, huh? doesn't sound like 'just a friend' to me."

"i- i can't tell you, alright? it's not for me to tell you..."

maybe it was shitty to put it on mia to explain, but it was her problem. thats what happens when you try to juggle five men.

but caleb just seemed to take it as a challenge, sweetening his tone as he tilted his head to the side. that sticky sweet tone contrasted his dark gaze in a way that made your stomach flip.

"can't you give me a little hint, poppy? you know i only want you and mia to stay safe."

"caleb, no. get off."

you tried again, pushing at his shoulders, but it was like pushing at a wall. he seemed to give in though, sighing and going back to sitting on the edge of the bed. you let yourself take a deeper breath, watching him close his eyes as he rubbed his face.

"... i really do want to keep you two safe, poppy... 'm sorry if it comes off too much."

you tugged your knees to your chest, watching him closely. course you knew how he was. he was overprotective to a fault. you also understood why. his past was cruel and trauma made people do shitty things.

"you don't have to apologize for it. just be conscious and do better. i know you care about mia and i know you just want her to be safe and happy- i do too. but she's her own person and can make her own choices. we just have to be here to back her up."

he turned his gaze to you, taking in your words for a moment before putting his hand on your arm. his eyes were softer now, almost puppy like as he tilted his head slightly.

"i care about you too, poppy. don't just count yourself out."

you blinked back your surprise, glancing between his hand and face.

"ah- i just mean that you care about her more, you know... i mean, you're closer to her, right?"

"sure, i guess."

he scrunched up his face, squeezing your arm.

"but that doesn't mean you aren't important. remember what i told you before i left for the academy?"

you swallowed, hesitantly shaking your head. hopefully he wouldn't think it was too weird to forget...

"i told you that you're apart of our family too."

he huffed softly, letting go of your arm as he stood up. his face shifted between a few emotions before he gave you a friendly smile.

"and since i'm the oldest, i have to look out for you two. try and get some rest, 'kay? i'll check up on you later."

he left you there, processing his words. part of their family... you were really that close? maybe you need to review your past again...

.

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affinity l̷e̵v̸e̷l̸ [e̷r̶r̶o̷r̸]

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affinity level [3̷̛̣̱͖̯̐̉̚0̵͖̓̉]

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taglist: @sleepisfortheweakpooh @plzdonutpercieveme @young-adult-summer @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @asakiyu @leftpoetrymoon @hon3yydew @anemobabygirl @clandestienly @crimsonrubie @beaconsxd @yuurisfavblog @cutiesgaloree @udejoenrlddo @mephisto-with-a-knife @poptrim @rhoswen-drake

hello!! chapter before bed anyone??

i'm bout to hit the hay myself. just gonna finish this episode of solo leveling. (i love jinwoo. shadowy guys are just my type i guess).

anywho, stuff is happening, blah blah blah, system glitches and all... oh, affinity level 30, huh caleb? hmmmm...

also!! i got fan art from @sleepisfortheweakpooh and it was AMAZING!! thank you so very very much! i absolutely loved it!!

thank you for reading! i value each everyone of you!

-chara <3

[trannyradfem]

You are seemingly OP, although your blog name is different now, and I am aware of that, rendering most of your reblog above the cut... entirely irrelevant. Based on your writing style you sound young, and you've confirmed you definitely are younger than me but still an adult, so I actually was 100% on point about that.

I also marked the post as having adult content, and tagged it excessively with content warnings. If the minor could see it at that point, it's because they lied about their age and bypassed all means of age protection. I am not responsible for that.

Does being accused of being a groomer all the time make you do the same to others, or something? Seriously, where the fuck did that vile shit come from?

I also don't check the profiles of every single person who responds to me, I do not have time for that with the amount of interactions I constantly receive. Maybe you should encourage the minor to not interact with TERFs if we're so dangerous, stay away from political tags, and to protect themselves by not lying about their age. But that would require you actually doing something that benefits others.

You're acting like I was screaming and swearing at this kid in the single reblog to them, which did not include any of what you're saying. You all seriously need to go touch some grass. I mean that in the most loving way possible. This is not the end of the world.

No, I will respond. You think that's a boundary, but that's not how boundaries work. You are choosing to participate in a massive online platform and directly tagging me to speak to me directly. You don't get to do that and go, "But you're a predator if you respond!". Demanding others do not respond to your replies is a childish form of manipulation so you can have the last word and I am effectively silenced.

Exactly why do you think you don't deserve to be treated the same exact way you treat others?

Furthermore, the readmore prevents me from seeing the rest as I type. But, man, if you cannot understand the collective damage trans rights activists have done, that's your own privelege and ignorance. You are also far more upset about my trauma than I am, that's a laugh. You can't even see that I was using it all as examples. How self centered. Do you always make other peoples' traumas about you?

If you gloss over the word "inherently" when I talk about the pain involved in living as transgender, as if I'm trying to put you down instead of acknowledge the shared realities we go through as marginalized people on a day to day basis, that's your own ignorance. Your inability to read this in anything but the worst bad faith interpretation possible is not my problem.

All I'm getting from you is that my identity is not real or valid, because I do not think like you. The antithesis of the mainstream TRA movement, invalidating another trans persons identity. And if what the TRA movement believes is not what you believe? Congrats, you're a TERF, too. You are no different from me. That is what I mean when I talk about how reactionary TRAs are, and you're feeding right into that.

That's been my entire point all along. You either agree with the mainstream TRA values and belong, or you're a TERF, per the trans community itself. I did not say you're pro rape, but the community at large very much so is, and if you can't see that then it's because it's not been directed at you yet. If it's not extremely disturbing to you that the trans community does that to perceived TERFs, regardless of if they actually are one or not, and even when they're trans, you probably are pro rape deep down.

There apparently is no other way, as you have been upholding that very strict binary of "us vs them" so hard from the beginning that there's no need to pretend that you believe otherwise, unless you actually say what you believe. Which you still haven't done, at all, aside from that one sentence where you say you believe in bodily autonomy, people being entitled to housing, food, etc. Which is honestly very, very basic, and no different from what I believe, nor what I expected you to say.

You've actually exclusively spent most of your time here writing paragraphs analyzing and insulting me. For hating TERFs you sure spend a lot of time focused on one instead of the topic at hand, which has always been how the conduct of the community is deeply bigoted in ways nobody is brave enough to admit. You also refuse to answer any questions I did ask about what you believe, so again, that's on you.

You say I assumed your beliefs, but refuse to correct anything I said, and parrot the same exact things I fully expected you to say. Yeah, I'm so presumptuous. How are you 27 and not mature enough for this conversation, my god... Aren't you the one who's been waving "trans exclusionary" around this entire time despite not knowing my beliefs? For the record, I believe the same wrt clothing, food, housing, bodily autonomy, etc., but you're the only one who suggested one of us doesn't believe in that.

You are ridiculously easy to figure out because your arguments are entirely empty and mimic the mainstream, which is precisely what I have a problem with. You're not engaging with the content on a real level or thinking about it critically, and haven't been since the beginning of this interaction because you still hold the mindset that "collaborating" (read as treating us like human beings) with "TERFs" is always bad. You say what feels good even if it totally contradicts your actions. So, what exactly are you doing here? There are no accolades or praise I can give for that, and if you want to be entirely free of criticism, you should just simply get off the internet.

In case you haven't figured it out by now, you are not entitled anybody's respect, and you lost mine as soon as you stereotyped my arguments in the same exact way I responded in kind to yours in my next reply. Doesn't feel very nice, does it? Do you understand why I did that, now? Again, why exactly should you be given a special exception and not be treated the same way you treat others?

You say I'm angry, that I'm yelling. This is text. There is no yelling, and I didn't use any indicators to remotely suggest that beyond using indicators for brief emphasis. Yeah, that's projecting. You are clearly upset and wishing that upon me. Sorry, that's not the reality. I'm enjoying waking up with my cat on my lap and my best friend at my side while going through one of many of my notifications. How many times do I need to say this isn't the end of the world, this isn't war, this isn't extreme, etc. for you to understand that it really isn't that dire?

You deleted the reblogs "out of respect for your followers" when you simply could've put all of it under a readmore, and then wildly mischaracterized my responses trying to make me look like a groomer in a public space. Yeah, that IS trying to exert power over me in a deeply malicious way. You don't need to know someone personally to use gaslighting as a technique of abuse. You are not some innocent sheep fighting the big bad wolf, your actions have power and consequences.

Acknowledging differences is not inherently hateful, and the TRA movement at large does it constantly... when it benefits them. If your response to me acknowledging these pressures and injustices boils down to, "you just hate yourself!", why exactly should I even take your opinions seriously or regard them as anything more than yet another attempt to prioritize transfems over transmascs? That's what it's called when you're complacent with the inequality that exists in the trans community, it doesn't matter how you personally treat people if you can't acknowledge the reality in front of you. And you very obviously can't, not even after excessive amounts of examples.

uvb76fan is posting in this tag talking about all the ways trans men have it “worse”, while misrepresenting the statistic she is citing. most likely banking on no one looking closer or reading the links.

this person is a terf. if you search trans on her blog it is immediately clear, i am not using terf loosely she is literally actually a terf.

we cannot let our weariness at not being heard by some of our community push us into the sick and malformed arms of transmisogyny and radical feminism, these people do not care about us at all, they are trying to harm every single one of us. our solidarity with trans women, men and people as whole should cause us to slam hard on the breaks. no matter how many trans women you see being antitransmasculine it does not mean that there are not so many more who are our genuine allies, do not let the algorithm pushing hateful person after hateful person your way skew your understandings. the transphobes want dissent, they want us to tear each other apart. we do not need to contribute to the harm to have ours lessened. (causing harm to a vulnerable minority is never morally correct no matter what got you there in the first place. also straight up trans women are easy to love and are inherently deeply deserving of community solidarity, and fascism (which terfs are) should not have any appeal whatsoever no matter how hurt you are but i digress.)

on another note: we cannot and must not reactively take on the mentalities of trans rad fems, no gender in the trans community needs to be the most oppressed to be taken seriously and given respect in our community, the equality in our suffering is immense and must be acknowledged without each group needing to prove we are the most victimized to get the care and community support we need. this is harmful no matter who is doing it. we absolutely must nip this kind of thinking in the bud.

push back on terfs in this tag everywhere you can, and if there is a reason you cannot comment or reblog to shut them down, block them on sight.

[rekino2114]

Death devil x male reader scenarios

A/n:this is a collection of some small scenarios I had in mind for death that weren't long enough for a full fic some I had in mind ever since she was still fami. Genuinely the more I write for death the more I love her

Disclaimer for this one: I don't know Japanese, and I am probably very wrong, so blame Google translate. Also, don't question the logic of this cause they're supposed to be speaking Japanese so it really doesn't make sense

"We need to find you a human name"

Your girlfriend put down the food she was eating and looked at you with those piercing pink eyes of hers

"Why?"

"I can't just go around saying that my girlfriend is called death"

"I've heard humans with weirded names"

"I.....can't deny that, but don't you think people are gonna get suspicious if they know your name?"

"And why should that matter? If someone starts bothering me I can just scare them until they give up and if they're really persistent I'll just deal with them"

"But you don't have any paperwork and you need to find a human name for those"

"And what would I need paperwork for? Boring human procedures don't interest me"

"To get married for example, you can take my last name but for that you need a human first name and that can't be death"

Death looked lost in thought for a while before resuming to speak in her usual emotionless tone

"......so I can't get married to you unless I get a human name?"

"I guess-"

"Alright then, I'll come up with one'

".....o-oh ok, I didn't think it would be this easy"

"Please I'd do much more to continue being with you"

"Alright, so you got any ideas? oh, and the name can't be fami. I'll admit calling yourself fami when you actually weren't famine was a genuis move, but you need to find another one"

"I wasn't going to use that anyway"

"Then what is it going to be?"

"I.........do not know"

"Really?"

"Sorry, I am not fully familiar with human names, also it's weird to think about changing your name......well I suppose I already did that once but still"

"Oh yeah I get it let me think"

She nodded and resumed eating while you sat opposite to her with your hand on your chin thinking hard about the name for some minutes, until you had an idea

"How about shin?"

"Hm?"

"Doesn't shi mean death? And shin is an actual name right? So it still works do you like it?"

She looked at you even more enigmatically before nodding softly

"Shin......I like it"

"Oh really?"

"Yes its nice"

"OK alright then shin it is"

"Alright........but still call me death in private"

"O-oh of course"

You deadpanned at the sight of your girlfriend dumping in the entire box of cereal she had in the much smaller bowl causing a mountain of small chocolate flavored circles to stand inside and on top of the bowl but it was way too early to deal with her weird tendencies plus you had gotten used to them

"Worthless"

That caught your attention as you took another sip of your hot drink and looked up at death yeeting the box at the wall and starting to eat the cereals spoonful after generous spoonful

"I suppose the cereals are good at least"

"What's wrong?"

"Hm?"

"You looked disappointed when you opened the box"

"Oh yes, I was looking for the toy"

"...........what?"

Death picked up another box of the same brand of cereals and turned it around to reveal the back showing an announcement in bold brightly colored letters that advertised an action figure of a cartoony mascot hidden in some boxes of the cereal

"However when I opened the box the cute toy was nowhere to be found. I will have whoever is responsible for this decapitated"

You were like......65% sure she was joking, but it's always hard to tell with death's lack of expression or any emotion, so you didn't want to take the risk

"C-calm down, it says it's only in some boxes looks like you just got unlucky"

"Oh......I suppose it's true, but it's still disappointing"

"Why are you interested in that toy anyway? I didn't take you as the type to like stuff like that anyway"

"It's cute plus I like his attitude"

".....what do you mean his attitude?"

"His determination to do anything to get the cereal is inspiring, even if all of his plans always end in failure he never lets go of his objective and relentlessly pursues it. It's inspiring really, a representation of humanity's relentless spirit and determination that I admire"

".........death did you......watch the ads for this cereal?"

"Yes, once they came on the tv and I got interested so I watched all of them"

".............you got actually invested.....in cereal ads?"

"Yes, it's one of the better human shows I watched"

You blinked twice genuinely wondering if the woman in front of you actually was the strongest devil in the entire world who was literally this close to ending the entirety of humankind before she met you, but just sighed again and decided to start your own breakfast

You dropped some of the same cereal in your bowl now, understanding why death had been so insistent on buying that specific brand the last time you went grocery shopping but stood shocked when you saw a small plastic toy coming out of the box and resting on the cereals in the bowl

"..............."

You looked up and saw exactly what you expected death staring right at the action figures, once again you sighed and handed her the toy

"Here take it"

"..........really?"

"Yeah of course, it's not like I like it that much anyway"

She quickly grabbed it and started playing with it, twisting its arms and moving it around the table, it was actually kind of adorable to watch. After a few more seconds of playing, she put the toy in front of her chest and hugged it protectively

"Thank you so much, I will treasure your gift with my life, just like you"

".........i-it's nothing"

The next two ideas were given to me by: @michaelaftonhasjoinedthechat thanks

"I'VE GOT IT!"

You put the plate aggressively above the table making sure bot to break it, death moved her pink glowing gaze between your exhausted form while you were trying to catch your breath and the food in front of her

"More food for me? Thank you, you're really been spoiling me with meals lately, is there something special going on?"

You continued breathing heavily, taking a drink of your energy drink before speaking almost yelling in between breaths

"I've spent *breath* these past two weeks *breath* making the perfect dish for you"

"...?"

You took a deep breath and calmed down, wiping sweat from your forehead and now being able to talk in full sentences

"You know how I've been taking cooking classes?"

Death nodded

"And how I've been feeding you food for these past days and asking what you thought of it?"

Another nod

"Well now I have done it! I have made the perfect dish according to your tastes, I took everything you told me you liked and made you the most perfect food possible"

"......I see, can I try it?"

"Obviously, if you couldn't then why would I have done it in the first place?"

Death was taken aback by your unusually aggressive tone

"Oh....You're right I apologize"

You sighed and took another sip of your energy drink

"No it's fine I'm sorry....I'm just.....it took me way too long to make this and now I'm sleep deprived, I'm not complaining mind you, I'm doing this because I love you it was just.... tiring, I hope you like it at least"

"I don't have a shadow of a doubt I will as they say"

Death grabbed the utensil and took a bite out of the dish you made and.....she gasped and her eyes widened it was genuinely the most surprise you had seen out of her in a long while

"So.....what do you think"

After she finished swallowed death started drooling, looking at the food. She ignored your question ans started scarfing down all of the food on her plate without thinking about etiquette or getting her clothes stained or anything else really

Once she finished eating in record time she placed the silverware down before grabbing a napkin you placed next to her, expecting this exact result

".......I.....assume you liked it?"

She finished wiping her mouth and looked at you with her usual emotional stare

"It was the best thing I have ever tasted in my immortal existence"

You sighed in relief, took another energizing sip, and bowed, death, slightly misunderstanding the gesture, started clapping......stopping when she heard a thud and saw you collapsing out of pure exhaustion

".......oh"

Death got up and started carrying you bridal style to bed, you stirred and woke up seeing her staring at you

"....death?"

"Please don't overwork yourself"

"...o-oh yeah sorry"

"It's alright, I just don't want you to be exhausted like this, if cooking that delicious meal causes you to end up like this everytime then I'm more than willing to never eat it again"

"N-no, it's not that. It's my fault. Really, I just worked too hard trying to make it perfect"

"Well it was perfect so at least you reached your results......however"

She lowered her head to kiss your forehead

"I truly dislike seeing you in this state, so remember to take breaks alright? Not even the greatest food in the world is worth seeing my boyfriend like this"

"......thank you"

"By the way how old are you?"

"Hm?"

"Since you're the death devil and all I was curious, I mean i always assumed you were pretty old every since you told me you were a devil but isn't death supposed to be like the oldest fear every living being has in common?"

The devil stopped eating and looked up for a second before her gaze came back to you

"May I tell you a story? It's about how and when I was born"

"Sure"

You sat on the pillow in front of the table and locked eyes with her as she cleared her throat ready to start speaking

"An immeasurable amount of time ago the first being that considered itself alive realized something.....one day it would no longer be, it would cease to exist like the leaves in trees that didn't exist yet, be forgotten by being whose idea wasn't even born yet only existing as an idea a concept of the first life in the world and nothing else......once it had that realization it started living differently, it took the smallest precautions, started taking less risks, whatever those may have been been, all because of one simple idea, a law of nature that every single living thing, human, plant, devil, animal follows with incredibly few exceptions......everyone wants to live as long as possible and die at the latest possible opportunity, some even do not want to die at all despite how impossible that is.....and the first living being followed that rule as well.......even the progenitor of everything around us....was scared of death and once it realized its own mortality....."

Death finally breathed, having not taken a breath during the entirety of her speech. She raised her eyes now, looking at you again with a gaze that made you freeze for no real reason

".....that's when I was born"

You know death didn't mean it but her sheer presence made it hard to breathe you only relaxed slightly once she finished the story because she had resumed eating

".................."

"I don't exactly remember when that was but if I had to take a guess I'd say i'm......around 810 billion years old"

"................really?"

"Approximately so"

".......i guess I'm into older women then"

Warning:this one is pretty suggestive and is probably the result of the many dirty thoughts I had about her. And also my writing sucks even more than usual cause again I don't know how to write smut oneshots

It all started when death came over to you and started kissing your face for no apparent reason, sure it was weird that she did it so out of nowhere but death was such a good kisser that you certainly didn't complain to receive more

Then the kissing moved to your lips, and you two engaged in a heated make-out session for a while. You saw death's face go red, which was unusual considering how muted her skin tone usually was, she was the pale rider after all. But what caused you to become even more surprised is that she quickly started straddling your hips and breathing in your ears

"......y/n.....what I'm feeling right now.....it's the first time I've ever felt anything like it, it's something more than normal love"

You blushed even more. Her closeness made it so you could feel all of her curves pressing against you and her hot whispers made you feel just as turned on as she was

"...d-death"

"Please y/n I want to make you happy in any possible way, please let me make you feel good"

She planted a bite on your neck, however it didn't hurt at all it felt more like another one of her amazing kisses, she continued leaving hickeys across your neck until she reached your lips pulling you into another passionate kiss.

When she pulled back, she looked at you again and then, without warning, started to remove her shirt. You blushed even more at that and looked away for a second but death grabbed you by the chin and turned your head to stare at her face

"Y/n....don't be shy, look at me, at my body, do I......look beautiful?"

Your blush deepened, but you did as said and started scanning her torso. She really did look stunning

"You look more than bea-......WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?"

Death blinked looked at herself and then you before having a realization

"Oh have you never seen a woman naked before y/n? It's alright there's nothing to be embarrassed-"

"NO I MEAN WHY IS THERE A GIANT GASH ACROSS YOUR BODY!?"

She looked down again and emitted a sound of understanding while you continued staring at the giant cut that was present from below her chest all the way to above her crotch

"Did I never tell you about this?"

".....n-no you didn't what the hell even is that?"

"Some time ago, before I met you, I tried to remove all of my organs from my body to see if I could die......as you can see i was unsuccessful"

"................"

"Do not worry though, I have put all of my organs back in their original place.....I'm fairly certain of that at least, I'm not completely familiar with human anatomy and the internet can be unreliable at times so I can't guarantee everything is where it should be.....not that it matters anyway"

".......s-so you're just ok with living with that forever?"

"Why not? It doesn't hurt.......or does that make me less attractive in your eyes?"

For some reason she sounded more worried about the possibility of looking less attractive to you than the gash actually hurting or being an inconvenience

".......no it's fine, to be honest I should have expected something like this when I started dating a devil, you still look beautiful with it it's just......gonna take a while to get used to"

"I understand, I'm sorry for not telling you earlier"

"It's alright just......whenever we go to the beach or the pool....please wear a one piece swimsuit"

"Alright........could we resume what we were doing earlier?"

"........yes"

And with that she kissed you again and placed her on top of you making you fall on the couch and starting to take off your shirt while you were still making out

You don't know exactly why you agreed to go with her, maybe cause you were hungry too or just wanted to stay with her but probably it was because you really did love her so much but no matter the reason you are not sure if it was worth standing in a McDonald's parking lot at 3:54 AM with little to no sleep

Death had woken you up and demanded a midnight snack, the problem was that you had planned to go grocery shopping the next day so your fridge was rigorously empty of any edible things so the solution was obvious, drive to the closest fast food and grab some pick up

You rested your head on the wheel as you turned around and saw death getting into the car with two bags of food in her hands, she gave you one and placed the other on her lap

"Thank you again, I really needed this"

"Yeah alright whatever"

"I promise I'll make it up to you"

You sighed and grabbed one of the burgers from the bag as death did the same

"It's really fine, I don't mind.....just next time let's do this during the day"

Death nodded and took a bite out of her burger. You were about to do the same until you noticed something in your burger, causing you to sigh

"......dammit"

"Hm? Whats wrong?"

"No it's nothing, I just don't like pickles but they're still in the burger"

"........what?"

You turned to see death looking at the burger with what you assumed was indignation

"I specifically asked that yours should have had no pickles.......and they still didn't listen"

"....i-it's fine really, I wasn't hungry anyway"

"....I'll fix the issue"

"Wha-"

Before you could finish your sentence, death wasn't in the passenger seat anymore, you don't know if she teleported or was so fast that you genuinely didn't see her but you quickly ran out too and entered the restaurant to see her arguing with the overworked underpaid teenage girl at the register

"I don't see anything wrong with the burger"

"There are pickles"

"And?"

"My boyfriend doesn't like them"

"So what am I supposed to do about his baby palate"

Death narrowed her eyes at his comment but tried her best to maintain her composure

"I need a new burger"

"I am not making another burger at 4:00 am cause you ordered wrong, you're lucky I even made you the first one, you know I shouldn't even be here, my stupid boss-"

"I could not care less, I need a new burger and you are going to make it"

"And the hell would I do that?"

"Because I ordered one without pickles and you still added them, You made a mistake so now fix it, isn't that common human decency?"

"Fuck off weirdo, I'm not making your stupid boyfriend another burger just because he can't handle a little bit of pickles"

In that moment you knew the poor girl was fucked, as soon as she finished her sentence death grabbed her by her uniform making her look up at her while she was glaring at the girl with her piercing eyes

"Apologize to y/n"

"W-wha-"

"I don't care if you called me weird or whatever, what I care about is you insulting my boyfriend because of his tastes, apologize and make him a new burger, do you understand?"

"...........i-i-"

"Do you understand?"

"I-i'm sorry"

Death let go of the girl's uniform as she started running to the back to make the food while you approve your girlfriend sweat dripping down your face

"And give us free fries"

"Y-yes ma'am"

"........did you seriously just scare to death a teenage girl cause she put pickles on my burger?"

"No......I did that because she disrespected you"

"...I.....I see"

"Don't worry I'll give her a tip later for the good service"

[qinzyuu]

"What a surprise.."

Wriothesley x (very feminine looking) m! reader

Summary : Wriothesley develops strong romantic feelings for reader, all while not being aware of their sexual orientation.

Warnings : fluff, probably ooc. (Dummy wrio:P)

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• Wriothesley personally didn't think or didn't put much thought into romance. He didn't personally 'hate' nor 'dislike' the thought of being in a committed romantic relationship. Of course, he's found some people attractive and appealing, once or a few times. Just not enough to develop intimate feelings for them.

• Though it was until you were introduced to him personally. You were supposedly requested to work with the 'Duke of the fortress of meropide'. Assigned specifically by Monsieur neuvilette.

• During your first meeting, you both exchange polite greetings. Wriothesley did have to admit he found your delicately carved features appealing. Though, he wasn't the type to "fall in love at first sight". Sure, appearances are intruiging, though he thought they were also a bit.. deceiving. Not that he was accusing you of being a bad person whatsoever-- no. To simply put it, he admired your gentle, doll-like appearance.

• Now, overtime. Getting to know each other a bit more. He found himself spiraling, carefully falling for you. He felt, comfort; warmth in your presence. Something he didn't expect from someone. Your gentle, sweet demeanor. Appealing characteristics. Sure, it sounds cheesy but, your presence truly brightens his day.

• It didn't necessarily take a while for him to notice his developing feelings, gradually changing from time. He was self-aware. Yet, he didn't actually expect to develop such a romantic perspective of you as a person.

• It didn't take long for sigewinne to notice the gradient difference between how wriothesley was with you. Wriothesley wasn't unfriendly, though he was a guarded person. When sigewinne realized wriothesley ongoing romantic feelings for [name], she deeply encouraged him, leading him to confession.

• Though wriothesley was slightly hesitant about this, ever since being paired up, you've grown pretty close. From co-workers, to acquaintances, to simply just.. Friends. He truly adored and appreciated having you around. although, he thought work value and ethic might grow insufficient if he threw himself into a relationship. Secondly, he didn't want things to grow awkwardly and eventually apart. As stated earlier, he loved having your presence close. Initiating conversations and spending gradual time together when you're both free.

• After long anticipation, contemplation and encouragement from both sigewinne and neuvilette. He decided, it was better or nothing. Either way, if there was a chance, a risk. He'd probably take it. Besides, he didn't necessarily appreciate the romantic burden burrowed deeply into his chest. It was.. Truly starting to make it's way to him.

• He's even decided to travel back up to the surface to simply say this. He thought confessing that he felt he had romantic intentions towards you in his office wasn't the best way to approach romance.

• You two are together, privately. Chatting lightly near the shore. When wriothesley randomly goes silent, you turn to glance at him while he contemplates whether he should say what he wants to say or not. After 2 minutes of sitting in complete silence he eventually mutters out a reply. "Right, this really is a bit more.. Embarrassing than I thought. [name], I appreciate you as a friend and i don't want this to cause an awkward space between us, but-- I felt the need that it was time for me to say this. I like you, [name]. Really, I do." he glanced up to see your reaction. At first you were surprised by his sudden confession next, you found yourself fighting the urge to laugh. "Wriothesley-- I like you too. Really-- but.. I'm a male." You reply all whilst giggling uncontrollably. This was a supposed to be romantic scene, intimate situation turned into comedy when you blatantly admit that you were the same equal gender as his. The surprised look on his face had you choke back literal tears, trying not to burst out laughing as he attempts to form words in response. I mean, does this still technically mean you two are 'dating' now?

• after this incident, wriothesley found himself questioning his sexuality. Was he a homosexual for having a crush on a 'female' looking guy? I mean on the bright side he's dating the person he likes. It's just it turns out they were also a male.

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(I've been looking for a fic like this before I just decided to make it myself.. Idk if this is ooc. XD)

[queersyourgender]

Do you have anything cooking for Dr.Ellis? I think i’d pay real money to have her smile at me.

Something Nice — Parker Ellis x GN!Reader

Notes: I feel that on a spiritual level, Ayesha knocked that shit out of the park and right into my heart... Je suis SMITTEN!! And now, so are you ;3c

———

Everybody and their grandmother knew you were absolutely smitten with Dr. Parker Ellis. It wasn't just common knowledge, it was fact. If someone looked up the expression head over heels in an idiom dictionary, your face would pop up next to a picture of Parker. That's how bad it was.

You're an x-ray tech, so you're rarely seen out and about on the hospital grounds. Usually, it's nurses and med students who are the ones to come to you to receive updates and results. One time, just once, during her second year of residency (because, you've been nursing this crush for two years), Dr. Ellis was the one who came in.

You never forgot her from that day forward. You doubted she even knew your name, but you definitely knew hers. You knew perhaps too much about her, about her camaraderie and family-like relationship with her attendings Jack Abbot and John Shen.

The only reason you knew this is because you thought you'd been subtle while asking around about the doctor with the beautiful smile. Now you live in a Hell of your own making, when John stops you at even turn and asks you if you've even introduced yourself yet.

So yeah, you don't really leave your little hidey-hole much. But sometimes, just sometimes, you need a break from the images of broken skeletons. Especially when they're little ones. So today, after glancing at the clock only to find it reading midnight, not even halfway through the shift yet, you sigh and get up off your chair to take a walk.

The Emergency Room isn't exactly anyone's top spot for a relaxing break away from traumatic displays, but it's the one you seek out anyway, given that it's the only other place in PTMC you have any friends in. You saunter around aimlessly, hoping John is around to take your mind off of things with his nonchalant attitude and stupid little iced coffees.

It's not John you find.

It's her, in all her radiant beauty, talking to Dr. Abbot and pointing down at her chart to ask him about something or another. The older man spots you first, and a downright evil smirk crosses his face as he waves you over, like you have any reason to be part of that conversation at all.

Still, when Parker curiously looks up to see who it is he motioned over to talk, you have no choice but to heed the call and walk towards them, heart racing in your chest. “Hey, kiddo,” Jack greets you amicably, though a little teasingly. “What're you doin’ out of your burrow?”

“Just needed a break,” you say, cringing at the way your voice leaves you high-pitched and strangled. Jack doesn't seem worried, since he knows that you're only panicking because this is the closest you've ever stood to Parker since you met her, but she doesn’t know that.

So she asks you if you're alright, and she uses your name. Your jaw drops slightly at that, blinking at her in pleasant surprise as the butterflies in your stomach start throwing raves. “You know my name?” You can't help but ask, like some kind of middle schooler with a crush, and Parker cocks a brow.

“I wouldn't forget a face like yours,” she says casually, and it completely knocks the wind out of your lungs. Visibly, it seems, because she suddenly smirks, like she now knew something you didn't. She turns to her attending and gives him a nod. “Anyways, I've got to go check in with Room Two. Thanks for the consult, doc.”

Before she leaves, she very minutely tilts her head in your direction and smiles. Your knees nearly give out as she gives you a mock-salute and says: “You should come out here more often. Wouldn't hurt to see something nice every now and then.” Then she walks off like she didn't just upend your entire night.

“Don't pass out, kiddo,” Jack half-jokes, eyeing you like you actually might, and you bury your no doubt flaming red face into the palms of your hands to muffle your scream.

[bulgingforbucky]

Sweet Drip

NSFW Warning: Jockey position, Daddy kink, Cunnilingus, Brief Spanking, Finger Sucking, Chokehold, Aftercare Bucky Barnes x arab!reader Word count: 3737 Summary: When the New Avengers come back to the tower, you prepared sweet treats for them. Bucky has a different taste for something sweet instead.

In your own mind, you're humming to yourself while doing your usual baking for the team. It's not that often, but it's enough to soothe the sweet tooth of the New Avengers. Bob is helping with the decorations, adding different frostings and sprinkles to the baked goods. The smell of the goods fills the kitchen, enveloping it with a warm, inviting scent that takes hold.

"Bob, don't forget to put minimum frosting, you know Ava doesn't care for it that much," you reminded him, before taking the last batch out of the oven, placing it on the large stove.

The mittens are pulled off and placed to the side. The smoke coming from the sweet treat is coming off strong while you let out a sigh of content. You couldn't help but think about how much of this space isn't needed before you glance at the soft boy who's finalizing the finishing touches.

"Okay, Bob, are you ready for the last batch? You—"

The doors opened, catching both Bob's attention and yours, cutting your sentence off. All you hear is Bucky calling Walker's shield a "shitty shield" making you roll your eyes at the instant bickering. With the team getting closer, you can understand what is being said, which it consists of a disagreement with Sam. That makes you sad, you know the history between Bucky and Sam, and you hope it won't damage their relationship. Other than you, Sam is the only other person he is close to.

Observing, you can see the creases in Bucky's forehead from stress and frustration. The legal situation of the Avengers name has taken a toll on him and the team. The New Avengers have been trying their hardest to prove themselves worthy of the name, but things aren't working in their favor. Alexi's personality comes into play, redirecting the conversation to the newly-fresh-baked goods on the table.

"I would love to continue this conversation, but I see a better opportunity of relaxing with sweets and beer," Alexi muses, immediately making his way to the kitchen, his feet retreating from the group.

With the Russian super soldier changing the subject to food, Bucky looks up with his gaze aimed in your direction. The first act of acknowledgment since he has arrived, his expression relaxes seeing you in your apron. The brunette also begins to make his way to you, in contrast to Alexi's, his steps are silent. A skill he has been taught that has stuck with him, among other things.

"Hey."

A smile comes forth across your face, speaking to him in that innocent, sweet tone, "Hello, James."

The tension in the man's shoulders began to simmer. He can see how your apron has a variety of stains on it, indicating you've been working hard.

"I already made yours, one for yourself. You can enjoy it later," you murmur softly, seeing him nod as a response.

A low hum rumbles in his chest. "Been working hard?"

"Sure, if you can call it that, yes," a laugh slips from you, shying away from the buff man.

You wouldn't consider baking a job, it's more of a hobby for you. It gives you peace and happiness and opportunities of learning new things, whether it's with someone else or on your own. Bucky glances at the baked good that's on the counter, which is being devoured by Alexi.

"They look amazing, baby, as always," the small compliment making your heart jump, you can never get used to his small remarks.

He progresses to get closer to you, reaching out, he grabs your hand, running his thumb across your knuckles. From standing so close, he can smell the cinnamon aroma lingering around you.

His body leans forward, taking in the scent of you, "You smell yummy."

The tone of the atmosphere makes a complete three-sixty from a few seconds before this. The tension is ascending quickly and wrapping itself around the neck of its victims, strangling them. Heat rises in your cheeks, his whispering, the way he's speaking to you. It was a lot to take in at once.

"Careful, James, your soldier peeps can hear you," you mutter lowly to hide your conversation from potential lurkers.

The blue-eyed man narrows his eyes, keeping his gaze on you and also observing his surroundings. No one was paying attention to what was happening between them.

"Then maybe we should take this time to..." his sentence trails off, making you tilt your head in curiosity.

"To what, Bucky?" you urged him to finish what he had to say.

"Go to our room? If you're done down here, that is," he purrs, caressing your hand, and you react positively.

You hope deep inside that the team doesn't notice your exit.

"Fine, Buck."

He smirks, pulling you with him, and the both of you make your way down the hall. The team gets left in the other room to enjoy the sweet treat you've prepared for them.

—

Once inside, Bucky pushes you against the cold door, attacking your lips. His hands immediately reach out and grip onto your hips. He just has to be close to you, to touch you in any way, and you'll have him. A sharp sting is felt in your bottom lip from him nipping it. You winced, licking the small cut on your lip, followed by him letting out a dark chuckle, his lips moving direction, attaching to your jawline.

Soft suckles on your neck, making you moan softly against him. The sweet smell of you makes his cock jump in his pants. The hold on your hips tightens as the suction of his mouth gets harder. Your heart is beating out of your chest from Bucky's ministrations. Around you, the room seems to be getting smaller, hotter. Or maybe it's just the way the soldier is pressed up against you, his body warm as well as yours, turning you on. You are getting worked up along with Bucky, your wetness getting uncomfortable in your panties.

"Pretty girl."

The grip on your hips moves, sliding down to your thighs before using the leverage to pick you up. You make a sound of surprise, wrapping your legs around his waist. Bucky carries you to the bedroom that's low and dim with just a lamp on. You're placed onto the bed before you witness him covering your body with his.

His fingers grab the waist ties, undoing the knot that's securing them to your body. The stained apron peels off your body, getting thrown to the side. Your shirt is pulled off over your head, leaving you in your bra and pants. You take matters into your own hands, unbuttoning your pants, seeing Bucky watch you. As you push down your pants, he helps pull them completely off your body standing up.

The ex-assassin pulls off his own shirt, revealing his muscular body to you. Your eyes travel along his body, seeing the different scars. You look up at him, reaching behind you, taking off your bra, and exposing your breasts to him. Lying yourself out, you invite him to come closer to you, which he does. His rough hands rub your thighs before leaning down, putting his mouth on your nipple. He sucks on it softly before groping your unattended breast. He drew back, gazing at you, taking you in.

Bucky gives you a soft kiss before leading it to your jaw. As the kisses went further down, he started giving you hickies. The kisses continue to go down south between your breasts, to your stomach, and finally, passing your belly button.

"Sadly, we don't have lime and salt," he jokes, making you laugh, shaking your head.

He reaches the waistband of your underwear, and this is what both of you were waiting for. He looks up at you before he teasingly lick a stribe on your clothed pussy hooking his fingers into the waistband. Pulling down your underwear, visible strings of wetness are seen connecting you and your underwear. Your underwear is then discarded to the side before Bucky looks at you with a disapproving look.

"You were hiding your neediness from me," he remarks in an accusing tone.

"No, I wasn't."

"Then why didn't you tell me you were dripping and ruining your cute panties?" his head tilts when he observes how you're trying to seem innocent.

At that statement, your face gets hot from how bold the man is. Even though you've been together for a while, you still get shy around him. Technically, you weren't hiding your arousal from him; he just didn't ask. That doesn't make you a smartass either, it's just common sense.

"You're not a shy girl, don't tell me you were embarrassed," he teases you before his thumb makes connect with your slit.

Your body jolts at the feeling of his finger on your hot, wet skin. The sheets crumbled up under your grip, and the ache for the man grows. You have to tell yourself, don't get greedy and your time will come.

"Getting wet for daddy isn't something to be embarrassed about, baby. It doesn't take much for you to get riled up and that's okay," he starts to rub his thumb up and down on your slit with slight pressure.

Your pussy pulses softly under his fingers with wetness coating his thumb resulting in a smirk from Bucky.

"Look how hungry you are for my touch," he tsks at your behavior before hitting your pussy watching you flinch from it.

"If I get too rough, you know you can stop me, you know."

You nod immediately, you trust him to stop if you ask. You know he won't hurt you intentionally. He cares about your well-being and makes sure you're okay with anything he does. The last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable.

Bucky smiles.

His head starts to descend between your legs placing kisses onto your clit coating it on his spit. Eating your pussy, he sucks on your clit and giving it little licks knowing you hate that. He knows you prefer long licks, slow, and fast. The warmth of his tongue gets pressed against your slit licking firmly. He groans into you making you twitch from the vibrations on your sensitive pussy. Too soon, he pulls away, trying to not laugh at the annoyed look in your eyes.

"You're probably thinking I should stop teasing and touch you like you want."

Funny thing is, he's not wrong. You hate being teased. The chance of receiving something that is in arm's reach, only for it to be taken away. You hate it. God, you were so needy for it. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing as you feel his hand touch your breasts. You pray that he wouldn't be too long, you needed to feel him now. When you try to grind down on his finger because you want him inside, you receive a sharp slap on your inner thigh.

You squeeze your eyes shut with a quick wince, "Ouch, that hurts!"

You reach out your hand, rubbing the stinging flesh that was hit. A glare is thrown in his direction, and the soldier is all but intimidated.

A mischievous smirk appears on his face.

"It wouldn't have hurt if you had been still," Bucky said with no remorse for his actions of disciplining you.

You frown before sighing softly, "I'm sorry, can you touch me please? I'll do anything, Bucky."

You plead with him wanting needing him to touch you. The downside is that he can see through your facade. He chuckles, shaking his head, knowing you're only saying what he wants to hear. He wants you to mean it.

"Anything, sweetheart?" he pinches your clit hard making your legs close unsuccessfully shielding yourself from him.

The only thing coming from you is pained sounds, making you unable to answer his question. Bucky's head tilts at your squirming, but he still doesn't let go of you.

"I expect an answer."

You quickly nod, wanting him to let go, which he does. The six-foot man gives you a smile before rubbing your pained throbbing clit. A whimper slips out of you with the feeling of both pleasure and pain, which is carried out through your body. His hand parts from your cunt before hold up two fingers placing them in front your lips.

Your eyes follow his fingers before you look up at him, silently wanting him to confirm what you think he wants you to do. The man's eyebrow raises, indicating what he wants you to do, and he expects you to not defy him. You curse yourself in your head before you open your mouth, taking in his fingers. Closing your mouth around him you being to suck on them.

"Good girl, get them wet for daddy," he whispers to you, encouraging you before he makes you make eye contact with him.

Both of you hold eye contact, he's watching you suck his fingers as you're watching him watch you do so. It's an intimate exchange. His fingers leave your mouth before his mouth is placed on yours. Immediately, you kiss him back, relaxing under his touch. His tongue swipes at the bottom of your lip, asking permission to enter.

His wish is granted when your mouth opens partially, allowing him to slip in his tongue. Soft sounds are heard from both of you, feeling each other's tongues. Pulling away from you, he looks at you before spreading your legs, opening you to him.

"Are you going to let me in, baby?"

You chew the inside of your cheek before you lie back onto the bed, answering his question. Bucky looks down at you spread out for him, his cock twiches inside his pants. Reaching down, pressing two of his fingers to your entrance pushing into your pussy. Almost instantly, you squeeze his fingers as they progressively get deeper.

"Just let me prep you, then I'll give you what you want," he states in a promising tone.

His fingers start pumping into your pussy as your wetness squelching. Following his fingers, his thumb rubbing on your clit. Whispering encouragement is heard from him, making you grind down on his fingers. It feels so good it feels like your pussy is pulling him in more. Subtly he grinds his clothed cock against the bed with growing need to be inside you. Your lips are parted as his fingers drag along your walls, avoiding your G-spot on purpose.

The metal-armed man doesn't want you to come on his fingers as it would be harder to make you come back to back, so he prefer to wait to give it to you. The sounds from your throat get louder as the pace of Bucky's fingers gets faster. You feel him pulls his fingers out your cunt and before you could protest he begins to rubbing your clit fast with his fingers. A loud cry comes from you. Your legs start to close on their own before Bucky prevents it.

"I feel tingly," you warn him, making him stop.

You sink into the bed with a sigh. The brunette leans down, kissing your knee, waiting for you to relax. Once you've succeeded, he grabs your hips, guiding you on your belly. You let him move you without any protest. Behind you, you can hear the sound of Bucky's zipper being unzipped. He pulls his pants and underwear down to his ankles before he steps out of them. The thickness of his cock slaps against his thigh before he grabs it stroking it.

"You look beautiful like that, sweetheart," his voice deep, filled with desire.

You duck your head with a quick 'thank you,' nervously drumming your fingers on the bed. With a chuckle, he lets go of his cock letting it fall back between his legs. Stepping towards you, he climbs onto the bed, getting behind you. He checks in with you once more to make sure you still want to continue.

"You still want to keep going?" he checks, rubbing your lower back.

"Yes, please, I want to keep going. I'm fine," you reassure him that you're comfortable with the situation.

Upon receiving the green light, the soldier positions himself at your dripping opening. His tip rubs up and down on your folds, pulling a moan out of you. When he pushes in, you can feel the burn from being stretched, even though he prepped you. His cock goes in slowly making sure to not cause any complications. Once he is fully settled inside you, he waits for you to adjust to him.

When he sees you testing it out for yourself, he assists you by moving his hips a little, observing your reaction. He doesn't hear a wince or see you buck away from him, so he keeps the same slow rhythm. As time passes, you can feel yourself opening as his thrusts remain frequent. Your body arches indicate the need for more. Bucky picks up on it, moving his hips just a little faster.

He buries his cock into your pussy grinding against you before pulling back and repeating. You yelp when you feel his hard grip on your hips pulling your ass up. With this his cock pumps into you much smoother and better. Your body can feels this as it is gripping Bucky's cock. He bites his lip at the feeling of your tight, warm, wetness.

"Poor girl, your pussy is just gripping me. You needed daddy that bad?" he coos to you before slapping your ass.

You gasp, feeling the sting move through you, shuddering. Again, his hand comes down on your ass making your asking burn momentarily. Small whimpers roll from your mouth as you reach back, trying to stop him, only for him to grab your hand. Bucky begins to speed up his movements, going harder inside you. Loud moans come from you at his rough fucking.

"Oh fuck!" you shout feeling his cock deep and hard filling you up with everything he has to offer you.

When his hand reaches over and presses down on your lower stomach, you let out a mewl. His cock feels so good inside you, you can feel it throbbing. You made the conclusion that the hard thrusts are most likely from not receiving any pleasure until now. Bucky did that on purpose.

"You feel me right here? It's all for you, all yours," he uttered against your heated skin.

With each hard thrust, a noise comes from you, your hands gripping the sheets hard to ground yourself. Seemingly, you can't take it becoming overwhelmed by how deep he's going. You attempt to falter his thrusts by try to get off his cock. You hear a huff behind you before you feel his arm wrap your neck. Your cheek is pressed up against his bicep, making you squirm.

You beg him to slow down, to stop going so hard. The more you beg, the more you forget what you're even begging for. Bucky holds you still as he rams his cock into you. Soft kisses are pressed to your temple, which contrasts with his rough thrusting. He can feel your juices cover his cock groaning in your ear. Your hand grips his arm, and all you can do is take it.

"Daddy, it's too much, you're going too fast," you whine out as your eyes gloss over, you can't fight back, you will just get punished.

"Stop trying to run from me then baby, stop trying to deny me of your sweet pussy," he grumbles holding you against him feeling your soft body against his chest. "Just submit baby, I got you," his voice is soft in your ear making you clench on his cock.

Once he feels you go limp against him, his hips circle against you, slowing down his thrusts. His cock is still going in deep and it hurts a little.

That's the good part, isn't it?

With each stroke your pussy you can hear squishing like sounds coming from in-between your bodies. His big heavy balls hits your clit while they swing along with his body rocking. He's so thick you can feel every drag of his cock. If you could see it you would see if your poor pussy is stretched around him. It's a miracle how he can even fit.

"Daddy is so proud of you, you always do your best every time," his body grinds into you as he feels wetness on his arm.

Looking over you, he can see how you are so out of it that you're drooling on him. The tip of his cock hits your sweet spot sending sharp pleasure through you.

"Such a good fucking girl. Let me help you," he coax feeling your pussy squeeze him and release. To help you he reaches down stimulating your clit. God, it's all too much to comprehend at once. The feeling of Bucky's cock pounding into you the right way, his fingers rubbing at your clit, and the whispered praises it's all too good.

With Bucky's encouragement your pussy begins to gush on around his cock triggering the start of your orgasm. You can't even call out from being loud, causing your thrust to be sore. Your cunt cling to his cock even wanting him deeper as you come hard shaking mildly.

Bucky grunts watching you in awe while fucking you through your orgasm before his balls draw up. His cum shoots out of his tip stunning his body, he pushes deeper into you instinctively. He fills you up, bucking into you before settling down, panting against you. Both of you stay still, enjoying each other's company. He withdraws his cock from him as well as his arm.

"You okay?" he asks with concern, rubbing your arm.

"Yes," your throat hurts when you talk, but other than that, you're good.

You receive kisses on your back, sighing at his tenderness. Groaning, you turn around on your body, looking at the man. He looks disheveled, his hair is damp and messy, with his pupils being more blown than they are normally. Raising your hand, you swipe at the sweat on his forehead before you hear him talk again.

"I'm going to get you some tea from the kitchen, and hopefully the others didn't hear you," he chuckles softly, making you laugh as well, covering yourself.

[ooohnoidontthinkso]

I'm Not A Kid I'm Your Baby

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: You are a new avengers recruit that is going to be trained by nat and clint. Living in the Avengers Tower you have seen Bucky before and finally have time to bother him. Major Daddy Kink alert that's basically the entire premise!!!

Word count: 968

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Flirting, Brat Reader, Bold reader, Sub Reader, use of pet names (baby,sweetheart)

Authors note: I just yearn for a Daddy Bucky fic and it has to be in the Avengers Tower because I miss it. Shout out to my bestie for the Book choice. Bucky would absolutely eat up Twisted Games and I love him for it. He is Rhys Larsen. Let me know if I need to add to the tags/warnings it's literally my first time posting a fic. Also let me know if I should do something with New Avengers in the Tower because I am a Thunderbolts slut.

Omg also let me know if I should do a more explicit part 2 ????

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“Hey handsome”

Bucky looking as grumpy as ever looks up from his book “What?”

“I said," Hey handsome.”

“Yeah, No.”

“No?” You ask baffled.

“No. Go find someone else to bother, kid.”

“Aw but everyone else is busy. And don't call me kid”

“Yeah well im busy too… KID”

“No your not” you say just to be difficult

“Do you not see me actively doing something” He hold up his book

“Actually what your actively doing is talking to me” You sit next to him

“Fine.”

“Fine?” You turn your head to the side slightly

“Fine, what do you want?” He clarified exasperated.

“Weeellll” you drag out the word teasingly. “Originally I was just going to say hi and have a seat but you made it seem much more appealing to bother you.” You say with a mock polite smile.

Bucky groans.

“So handsome can I see what you're reading?”

He showed off the book and says the title, “Twisted Games”

"Oh my God Rhys Larson is my favorite book boyfriend. Literally my favorite line of all time is 'From this point on, you’re mine. No other man touches you. If they do...I know seventy-nine ways to kill a man, and I can make seventy of them look like an accident' he is so hot. I mean those are kind of rookie numbers but still the sentiment remains the same."

"Know a lot of ways to kill?" He raises an eyebrow with a smirk.

"Wouldn't you like to know?” You ask with a wink.

“I didn’t know a kid like you was allowed to read books like this.”he says with a teasing smirk.

“I'm not a kid” you glare at the nickname.

“How old are you anyway? These people keep recruiting younger and younger children.” He says almost uninterested.

‘Well your in luck because i'm not a child” You wink.

“Whatever kid” he turns away.

“Is that a result of being an old man?” You ask demanding.

“What?” He laughs lightly at your cheekiness.

“Well of course everyone is a kid compared to your age.” You taunt.

“I guess so. Look at you, you're practically a baby compared to me.” His faces begins to show his genuine amusement.

You blush lightly at the way he coos the nickname “Yeah okay you can pretend to be an old man but i don't think it counts”

He takes notice of your reaction “No?”

“No it's not like you remember and have all the life experience of all that time so it doesn't count.” You answer annoyed at your own reactions.

“Oh so I'm young then?” He laughs as he admires your attitude.

“Well you're not old. I did say you were handsome. It's not like you have wrinkles and gray hair.” You look deeply at his hair and joke “Mostly”

“Oh I bet you’d like me with gray hair.”He flirts.

You blush and try to hide it by picking up a book from the table.

“Oh so I was right? Into a silver fox are you?” He looks at you smugly as takes the book in your hands and places it back on the table. He chuckles and asks you curiously. “What are you even here for?” He questions with a smile.

“Nat and Clint are training me. So you know I can kick your ass” you retort.

“Now wait a minute. Could I Take down Nat? maybe not, but you, you're just a kid” He gets up to serve a whiskey from the bar.

The nickname causes you to send a glare in his direction.

“Oh right you don't want to be called kid, you want to be called Baby.”

You turn red and try to turn it back on him. “ Oh so you want to be called old man then?”

He shrugs, “its what Nat calls me”

You frown at his indifference.

“Aww you even pout like a baby.” He drinks his whiskey again.

You grow even redder with the combination of the nickname and your frustration, you say the first thing that comes to mind “Fine What about daddy.”

At the same time you turn a bright red, he coughs on the whiskey he was drinking.

Once he recovers he says, “ Wow you are bold aren’t you?” He grins and crosses his arms as he says, “If you wanted to call me daddy all you needed to do was ask.”

You're at a loss for words, “n..no..i..i.. I don't want to call you that i was just y'know”

“Oh baby I think you do want to call me daddy don't you.” he walks closer and grabs your chin pointing your face up towards him. His gaze darkens.

You pull your chin out of his grasp and turn away.

“Oh someone's bratty aren’t they. You don't have to be embarrassed, baby.” He takes a seat on the other end of the couch, legs spread out, relaxing back into the couch.

“I should get back to training.” You start to get off the couch but he grabs your wrist

“Don’t lie baby. I know Nat and Clint left already.” He grins

“You made your point. I'm embarrassed. What do you want, Bucky?”

“Now Sweetheart you’ve stolen my line.” He pulls you back down but onto his lap this time. He whispers in your ear. “What do you want?”

Your breath hitches and you feel his large hand rubbing small circles in your back.

“Now if you aren't going to answer me I might have to call you Brat instead of baby.”

He practically growls into your ear you can feel his hot breath grazing your skin. You shudder at the feeling. He moves his other hand to your thigh and lightly strokes up and down.

“Fine baby, I can make it easier. Do you want more?”

“Yes” you breath out your throat feeling dry.

“Yes, what?” he presses.

“Yes bucky.” you say defiant.

He pulls you to lean against him and harshly smacks your ass. You feel the sting linger as you hold in a moan.

“No, no you know that's not what you call me.Come on baby try again.” He coos in your ear as he rubs where he smacked.

“Y..yes Daddy.”

“That’s my girl” He grins and pulls you into a kiss. It starts off slow as your lips lightly graze each others. It quickly becomes more fierce and consuming.

[bellysoupset]

Heyy!

So I have an idea, considering wedding is practically just around the corner and Jonah being the groomzila that he is, i feel like all the stress would makes him have a nightmare, I think it would be super fun if you could write a fic about that and maybe he wakes up and is immediately sick from the stress. And how I see the nightmare going is like it’s the wedding and everything’s going well until something terrible happens and that’s when he wakes up.

This one isn't very long, but I was so in love with this prompt!!

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"It's looking a little grey out, isn't it?" Jonah stressed, pacing the bedroom as he watched the makeup artist finish up Angie's makeup. He damn nearly pressed his nose to the window, staring angrily at the sky.

He had been promised a stunning sunset, but now grey clouds were collecting in the horizon, already shielding away the sun and the luminosity was only going to diminish even more in the next 40 minutes for the ceremony to start. By the end of their vows they'd be in the dark.

"You have torches out, Jon," Luke reassured him, getting up from his spot in the couch so he could squeeze Jonah's shoulders, thumbs rolling away the tension knots there, "you'll get stunning pictures either way."

"Not if it rains on us!" Jonah groaned, feeling clammy and nauseous. He shrugged off his jacket and Luke once more patted his back.

"It won't rain, Jonah and you're taking the vows at the pavilion, so relax, will you?"

How could Atwood be so damn calm about things? How had he just married Bella with less than two days of preparations? They were different species entirely.

"Jonah," Angie was sitting up correctly on the makeup chair now, instead of nearly lying down, and she looked gorgeous, even with that amused smile tugging at her lips, "your day is already happening. Right now."

Uh.

He frowned, crossing his arms defensively, then deflated with a sigh as his baby sister continued on to say, "aren't you supposed to enjoy it?"

Bloody hell.

"When did you get so wise beyond your years?" Jonah grumbled, while Luke patted his back and let out a snort, followed by a gasp.

"You look amazing, Ange!"

"Well, wait until you see me in the dress!"

Jonah rubbed his sweaty palms against his trousers. Angie was right, he was stressing so much that the day couldn't be good even if everything went right. All he'd remember later would be how stressed he was...

His phone buzzed and Jon picked it up, smiling as he saw Leo's name across the screen.

Leo: I changed my mind.

Jonah stared at the text for a solid minute, only snapping out of his daze as the tree little grey dots appeared next to Leo's contact, showing he was typing.

Leo: I don't think we should marry.

Leo: I'm leaving.

"Jonah?" Luke's voice caused him to raise his head, or try to, he seemed unable to look away from the screen. Jonah sucked in a breath, tried to click on Leo's picture so he could be redirected to the call button, but his fingers kept slipping for some reason, "JONAH!"

His stomach lurched and Jon's whole world capsized as he was suddenly rolled on his side, gravity seeming to give up on him-

His heart was drumming in his ears and there was hot, bubbling bile climbing up his throat, coming up in a projectile wave as he opened his mouth. A death grip around his chest and stomach.

He needed to call Leo. He needed to fix this. To understand what had happened, to- To get him back, change his mind somehow- What had changed?!

He tried to breathe, but his body seemed to have forgotten how to do it and instead Jonah only wheezed. There was a harsh thump to his back.

Leo?

"Jesus fucking Christ, Jonah!"

Lucas. Patting his back. A hand grabbing his shoulder, keeping Jonah from diving out of the car or strangling himself with the seatbelt. Luke.

"I need- I need- Call-" Jonah tried to say, before a coughing fit overcame him and the nausea surged up once again. He gagged, spat in the growing puddle on the side of the road...?

Road?

The seatbelt released and Jonah nearly fell forward, just as Lucas caught him, pushing Jon to lie back against the passenger seat of the car and all but climbing over the handbrake in order to cup his face.

"Jon, Jonah, HEY!" Luke slapped his cheeks, forcing their eyes to meet, "you had a nightmare, you're freaking out. Not real, wasn't real-" he snapped his fingers before Jonah's eyes, frustrated and panicked, "HEY!"

Jonah nodded, nervously, sucked in a breath- Then lurched to the side just in time to retch another mouthful of acidic saliva. Behind him he heard Luke let out a sigh.

A nightmare. He was in Luke's car. They were going to the airport to pick up Angie, Jackie and Matteo. Fuck. It was a random Friday, Leo was stuck in court, Luke had volunteered to tag along instead and kicked Jonah to the passenger seat because he "looked horrible."

"Bloody...Hell," he breathed out, clearing his throat and spitting a glob of bitter, thick, saliva, finally collapsing back against his seat. Lucas promptly shoved a lukewarm water bottle in his hand, grabbing some takeout paper napkins from his glovebox.

"Here..." Atwood hoovered over him, looking like it was physically hurting him not to shake Jonah like a rattle toy or question him on the spot. Energy and concern was rolling off of him and Jonah raised a hand to shut Luke up preemptively.

"Give me a minute."

Lucas' jaw clenched and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, bouncing his leg up and down.

Jonah swished the water around in his mouth, then spat it out of the still open door, slamming it shut. He lowered his head to the glovebox and let out a slow, deliberate breath.

What a ridiculous fucking dream.

Nevertheless, he fished out phone from his pocket, wiping his sweaty hand on the paper napkin in order to click on Leo's contact.

Leo: Stuck in court, fuck my lifeeeeee

Leo: Luke said he'll pick you up.

Leo: No, I didn't ask him to, he volunteered.

Leo: BE NICE

Leo: Apologize to your family for me? 😭 I'll see them at dinner, I promise I'll be out by then.

Leo: I love you so much.

Leo: Less than a week!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Leo: Chuck's asking the address of the venue again, can I tell him he's uninvited?

Jonah let out a chuckle, then it caught in his throat and quickly turned into a sob. Tears sprung up, burning his eyes and his nose, emotion getting the best out of him.

"Aww, Jon," Luke cooed, no longer able to hold out his nature and wrapping an arm around his back, "dude, c'mere-"

"Don't touch me," Jonah groaned, sniffling and angrily wiping away the tears, only for Luke to let out a snort and tug him anyways, smushing Jonah's face to his chest and hugging him.

"You're so stressed, Jon," Luke's voice was deep in his chest, vibrating, followed by a chuckle, "nothing will go wrong."

Jonah let out a groan, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Luke always smelt a little like mint, because of his after shave, and it was grounding to reality.

"How can you know?" slowly he peeled away from Lucas, rubbing his face and taking a gulp of water.

Luke's face got all wrinkly as he opened a huge smile, "because you're marrying the man you love, Jon. Even if everything goes wrong, horribly wrong, you're still marrying Leo. You got it?"

It was like a knot deep inside his chest loosened up. He was marrying Leo.

The guy he had been in love with since the first time they had shared a hotel room back in the football team, the man who had caught his eye immediately, the one who understood all of his ticks and noises, who could read him as a book. He was marrying his best friend, even if the venue caught on fire, Leo was counting down the days to marry him.

"Yeah," Jonah cracked a smile, going boneless on his seat, "yeah, you're right."