#and i'm never letting anyone see them again

[brawberryz]

Goodbye World

BatFam Yan! × Neglected Magic Girl! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

Pt: 2

"(NAME), PLEASE DON'T GO!"

the girl screamed trying to stop her, this couldn't be happening, this shouldn't have happened, I was supposed to have more time but your transformation accelerated

"I'm sorry, ######, but there's no time left... sorry"

"Please (Name)!, don't go..."

The girl felt tears falling from her face, she was supposed to save you but she made the same mistake again...

"Goodbye"

You gave her one last smile before falling to the ground and your body began to deform

"(NAMEE)!"

The girl screamed for the last time before your vision went dark, there was no more pain or suffering, you felt like your body was deformed but you couldn't feel or do anything it was like you only had your conscience left

The original (name) had disappeared forever, and there was nothing else to do

Or well, maybe there was something they could do

_

Bruce was sitting in front of the batcomputer trying to find any trace of you, but there was nothing, not even a trace, it was like you had vanished in the wind

He felt too bad since your last interaction with you, if he had known what would happen he would never have let you go from that hug

But it's just "would have" it was too late to regret but he could still fix things, he would find you and take you home with everyone else and finally have the family you always dreamed of

"We found nothing, not a single clue"

Richard entered the batcave feeling defeated Again, he went out with the whole family to look for some clue but there was nothing, they even tried to see if some villain had you kidnapped but there was no one who knew about you

"This is shit"

Jason said angrily while leaning against a wall, as much as he didn't want to admit it in a way it was his fault he always treated you badly and insulted you

You had too many reasons to leave the mansion and hate all of them, but if he was honest he hated the feeling that you had left, you are supposed to be a family and you should stay together

Wherever you are they will find you and when they do they will never let you escape from their hands again

"And Tim?"

Bruce asked without taking his eyes off the Batcomputer, he hated feeling like he couldn't be in control, not having control over you, like he always had

"He decided to stay a little longer to patrol and see if he found something"

Jason said putting his hands in his jacket pockets, wherever you are he just hoped you were okay although knowing how Gotham is, it would be a miracle if you were okay without a single scratch

"I'm leaving here"

Damian spoke as he walked angrily out of the batcave, a part of him was angry with you and with himself, he was angry with you because you abandoned him without even saying goodbye or giving him reasons, you decided to hide and not tell anyone

He hated having things hidden from him, and at the same time he was angry with himself for how he treated you in the past, but he had changed he swears! When you get back to the mansion she'll be the best sister you've ever seen

"Damian, wait-"

Richard tries to stop him but Damian just pushes him out of his way before yelling at him

"SHUT UP, I don't plan on staying here even a minute longer.(Name) is lost somewhere in this stupid city and all we do is stay here like idiots"

Damian said angrily as he quickly left the batcave

Richard just sighed, when Damian had something in mind there was nothing that would stop him from reaching it, not even his own family

_

Damian walked angrily down the hallway of the mansion cursing under his breath

He continued walking until a door caught his attention, it was half open and he could barely see the small light coming out

Curious, he decided to open it, he was surprised when he realized it was your room...

It was small but still well decorated, it bothered him a little that your room was so far away from the others

He didn't want to invade your privacy (if he wanted to) but the curiosity about your things was too great, he began looking in your drawers but only found unfinished crafts or clothes

It seemed strange to him that all your clothes were still in their place, if the theory that you ran away was true you should have brought some clothes, but everything was completely in order

As he continued looking he found a photo album, it seemed old since it had some dust

He removed the dust that it had and decided to open it, there was almost nothing interesting just photos of you, some from when you were little and others from your birthdays

But there was one that caught his attention, you were in a park with a girl, it seemed to him It was strange that you had left since you never left the mansion

He was also very bothered by the approach that girl had with (name), who did she think she was to touch her sister like that?

But if he was honest, in that photo you really looked happy...

You didn't have that forced happiness like in all the photos, in this one it was seen that you really felt happy with that strange girl

He put aside the album and went back to searching through your things to see if he could find something else

Some of your drawers were full of board games full of dust, he remembered that once you asked him to play one with you but he simply ignored you and said that you had time for children's games

A soft voice took him out of his thoughts

"What are you doing in (name)'s room?"

Cassadran asked, looking at Damian with doubt. She thought it was strange that he was in your room since she thought she was the only one besides Alfred who knew your room.

"Something that doesn't matter to you."

Damian answered abruptly as he continued searching through your drawers.

"You seem too worried about her to be going through her things without permission."

Cassadran spoke again. She thought it was strange that none of the family members were around the house, but she didn't pay much attention and decided to go to your room to greet you. But she was surprised when she found Damian searching through your things.

"So what? It doesn't matter now that (name) is missing. I don't think it will bother her. Besides, it's for research purposes."

Damian was getting tired of Cass's insistence, because out of nowhere he is so worried about his privacy. Were you two close?

"Missing?"

Cassadran repeated in surprise, that answer hit Cass hard, she never imagined it would really happen, were you able to leave the mansion? Although if she was honest you had reasons to leave this fucking place

"Yes, my sister is missing and apparently I'm the only one who cares about her and tries to find some clue, so go away you're just bothering me"

Damian let out a snort of annoyance before resuming his search through your things

"She's your sister now?"

That answer took Damian by surprise, what the hell was she referring to

"What..."

"She's your sister now?" Cass repeated again before speaking again "you always left her aside, well, everyone left them aside and I include myself but it seems hypocritical to me that you want to blame others when you are also guilty, you always look to blame others for your problems because you are an egocentric and selfish person who only thinks about himself, you don't care about her you just want to have a reason not to feel bad about yourself"

Those words left Damian speechless, he hated to admit it but she was right although he would never admit it out loud

He simply looked away and focused on continuing to search pretending as if Cassandra's words hadn't mattered to him

Cass turned around and left the room before giving Damian one last look

Deep down she hoped you were okay wherever you were, but if you were truly lost she was going to do whatever it took to find you, she wasn't going to allow herself to lose another important thing for her, not anymore

_

Tim was jumping from building to building trying to find some clue about you, but there was nothing. He had been investigating criminals, villains or gangs all night but no one knew anything about you.

At this point the guilt was drowning him, he felt like the worst brother in the world. How could he forget someone so important?

Most likely you are now in some dangerous place, alone and scared thinking that no one will go looking for you because you are not important enough for them.

But he will do everything possible to find you, I promise.

He decided to stop at the top of a tall building so he could rest. He felt the worst. He had been patrolling all over Gotham for more than 4 hours but had found nothing. At this point he felt like he would never find you. No...no, if he found you he should not lose hope. You were somewhere in this place...he just had to find out where.

He felt something fast approaching him. Before he could react correctly and dodge it, a supernatural force ended up throwing him against the fire escape of another building.

Shit... that hurt, he was sure he broke his back or some rib, that thing that pushed him had too much force, it was clear that it was not a criminal or villain, they were too fast and strong to be one

But before he could get up he saw how a black mass with a strange figure approached quickly

It was easily the size of a damn bus or bigger, whatever it was was not human, that black mass reminded him too much of someone, he felt that he knew that figure from somewhere

But before he could think that large figure ended up hitting him again

It seemed as if that thing had something personal with him like some kind of hatred or resentment

Tim tried with all his strength to recover from that last blow, he had to warn the others about this thing and to come quickly before this strange creature taken from a horror story finished him off

With his last strength he grabbed the communicator and sent a signal for help before that thing hit him again now with more force causing his body to hit a wall

It seems you already have your first victim in your hands, you were going to finish off all those who made you feel miserable and you were going to make them feel the same pain that they made you feel

The original (name) had already died, the only thing left was this creature full of resentment and hatred

You were going to destroy every person who stood in your way and if that meant having to destroy the city or the world you were going to do it

"MADOKA PLEASE DON'T GO" aahhh reference 😭🙏💀

Sorry if it's too short or something, I hope you enjoy this shitty chapter

You can leave me questions or anything about this AU, I'll be happy to answer them🙏

[nibbelraz]

if you have more yqy + baby thoughts i would love to hear them ouo

I DO I REALLY DO THANK YOU ANON

I was talking with @/artsarasp about it a couple days ago but I just keep thinking about how Yue Qingyuan finding out that he's pregnant after either having a one time heat of the moment fling with Shen Jiu (he can never think fo Shen Jiu as a fling, it was everything to him) OR he's pregnant from some plant that involved both of there DNA. I like the idea they had a heated moment because already with that Yue Qingyuan would be riddled with guilt about how much he misses Shen Jiu, How he's always wanted to be close to him like that and how he can't ever get that again and how he failed him so he should've never been able to have something like that even for a moment how dare he, How dare he even think of wanting an OUNCE of anything from Shen Jiu after leaving him

And then he's pregnant. He's witn Mu Qingfang. He promises not to say anything to anyone especially because it can put the Sect Master at risk. Especially when he can see how Yue Qingyuan goes white as a sheet after telling him the news.

Yue Qingyuan would be silent. Thinking. He can't tell him. He's already taken so much from him, he's already abandoned him, he's already hurt him so much what would he think of this? He'd never speak to him again, he can handle yelling, the comments, the glare but if he was to never see Shen Jiu again he'd be nothing. He doesn't want to get rid of it the fact he has something of his and his Xiao Jiu he selfishly wants this baby as proof that they were something once, for a time. For a moment. It's not the right reasons to have a child by far and he knows it but he refuses to do anything to stop it.

Mu Qingfang would tell him what he needs and what to do and how they'd try to keep it a secret from everyone but Yue Qingyuan is half listening he has to think of how to hide this from everyone for life.

I keep also thinking about after he has the baby. Successfully without Shen Jiu knowing, except his baby has those eyes, those beautifully sharp eyes that he's used to looking at him with contempt. But on his baby they're wide with curiosity and grabbing at him with such a tenderness its making him want to scream.

Ah but I'm a softie and I physically cannot let a bad ending happen so I feel like of course Shen Jiu would find out. I'm not sure how but he does and it's more gut wrenching than Yue Qingyuan can imagine because he think he hid his own son away from him because he doesn't trust him or that he hates him so much he can't even allow a vulnerability like this. I'm sorry i don't know how but AFTER HARDSHIP AND PAIN AND TIME THEY ARE A HAPPY FAMILY YAY!!!!!

[jd-loves-fiction]

Coming back to you with another request cuz I loved your previous work

Boothill, Welt, Ratio, Jing Yuan and Gallagher with the same platonic teen reader premise but reader calls them ,,Dad" on accident and they themselves don't even notice it because it comes so naturally to them

🌑so glad you liked it🥺🥺also the dad's of all time yes yes!! Also my internet has been fucked lately that's why uploads are slow sowy 🥺

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

If you look at his lore, he was actually a dad (😭 my Shayla) so yeah big chance he won't notice at all

Because of the trauma associated with his family in general, he'll notice it eventually and be a bit conflicted

On one hand, he's absolutely delighted at the fact that despite being almost entirely made of metal, you are still able to find such fundamentally human comfort within him

And on the other hand, he has a hard time accepting that the man he was before didn't actually die along with most of his body

He won't ever correct you tho, at the end of the day he's just grateful that he's still able to make young folk feel safe around him

Reminds him that he's still human🥺

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

Did you see the way he basically adopted Sunday the moment he stepped on the express?? Yeah, that's dad right there

He basically adopts every kid (as in, anyone younger than him) that steps aboard the express, so i feel like someone else might've already called him before and he just brushed it off

Same with you, though in his heart he's over the moon

All he wants in life is to make everyone around him feel safe and loved, so to know that you of all people seem to think of him in such a way really warms his heart

Though he'll never point it out in fear of making you embarrassed

He's overjoyed!! But internally :)

✦ 𝐃𝐫. 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨 ✦

Truly baffled, at first

He's aware of his reputation and he doesn't mind it but he never expected someone to him that way

Though he's (not so) secretly very pleased

At his core, he's a teacher and that's what he loves to do - spread knowledge to all who seek it

And I'm sorry for reminding you of this but most of us have called our teacher mom/dad before so...

There's a slight chance it's happened before... also a slight chance he very dryly corrected them - "last time i checked i have no children" 🙄

Might do the same to you unless he's in one of his moods, writing down information or just lost in thought - then he'll probably just wave you away wordlessly

I feel like he understands on a behavioral level why you did it and because of it, wont comment on it or bring it up again. It's just something people do sometimes, nothing weird about it

The most neutral out of all of them but will make a mental note about how it probably means you trust him at least a little

When he lets himself be selfish and overthink it, it does warm his heart but you'll never know

✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦

Actual father to Yanqing YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!

Ooooh he's tearing his hair out trying not to tease you about it

He knows that if he does you'll crawl back in your shell again and thats tHEEE last thing he wants in life, really

It's easy to feel comfortable around him, i feel. He's just a big lazy cat - pretty independent and chill

He's good at just being there when you need him there as well as talking your ear off as a distraction - peak comfort

Definately called Jingliu 'mom' as a kid, come on

And Yanqing did the same with him

So it doesnt surprise him much since he understands its a pretty normal thing but GOOOOD he wants to acknowledge it so BAAADD

HE WANTS TO MAKE IT SILLY BUT NOOOOO 😭

He's an adult now (a very old one at that) so he understands that now is NOT the time

Will keep thinking back on it fondly tho :))

✦ 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫 ✦

Oh oh my... he gives so much deadbeat dad I'm getting nostalgic IM KIDDING

Anyway, as a bartender, i feel like thats happened to him before

People say weird shit when they're drunk so it's very likely someone's called him dad before

Though that feels very different to him

When people do that when drunk it doesn't usually mean anything - he must just remind them of their father (for good or bad) so he doesn't take it too seriously

But you? Oh he's taking it seriously

Ego? Inflated to hell and back

He's being extra sweet and caring with you

Making sure you eat and rest, etc

Gotta live up to his reputation 😉

The dad who stepped up fr

Might tease you about it, but if you have an adverse reaction he'll stop immediately

Very touched that you think of him that way even subconsciously and will try to make sure he doesn't disappoint :)

[midnite-c6]

hear me out — nam-gyu is actually soooo icky. i don’t care what anyone tells me. he’s a icky icky man. he’s so fucking mean too. he thinks of women as possessions (he’s sooo misogynistic. you can’t convince me otherwise) like what do you mean women are their own person and can control their own lives?! no…. they are possessions!

additionally, he is sooo convincing with his words — he can get anyone to trust him quite easily (especially if they’re naive) and he’s taking full advantage of that.

honestly nam-gyu probably has anyone naive trying things they were always against. he has such a way with words when it comes to getting anyone to open up or doing what he wants them to do. he'll give them everything they need to get them to say yes even if it means making promises he doesn't even plan to keep or fulfill.

also, no one can convince me otherwise that this man doesn’t have a thing for trad wives. he definitely likes the idea of codependency and the fact that someone clings to him like a second skin (but let’s be honest, he definitely doesn’t make it out to seem like he likes it — it’s always constant degradation from him: “stupid bitch, can’t ever do anything for yourself, huh? i have to do everything for you”). also likes the idea of baby trapping, because you can’t leave him ♡ but 100% does not like kids.

i also can see him fetishizes the FUCK out of lesbians (once again… this man is ICKY) and i definitely feel like if he was the type to get into a relationship with someone who is bisexual (or closeted lesbian. specifically if he coerces them) he would exploit the shit out of it. bro definitely has a premium subscription to ph. constantly doom scrolling to find something he hasn’t watched yet (specifically lesbians or threesomes (two girls, one guy) it’s definitely one of his biggest fantasies. he is soo gross ♡)

he would probably likes giving some naive, lightweight (never done drugs before) drugs that he knows they wouldn’t be able to handle just so he they can take advantage.

I AM GOING INSANEEEE. i am clawing and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

warnings: 18+, DARK content, dubcon, baby trapping

bro i am so sorry i haven't let this out to the public sooner, this is so good and factual fr 💔 like this guy is an misogynistic incel honestly, idfc what anyone else says, u literally can see it in the show how he treats se-mi. he's a meanie.

THE PH SUBSCRIPTION IS SO REAL. also, forces or not, makes u watch porn with him, the disgusting ones like heavy bondage/bdsm, prolly whilst sticking a wand vibrator on ur clit in a setting that's intense BUT wont make u cum so its pure torture..

guys has anyone done se-mi x reader x nam-gyu ? like hello? hello????? ITS RIGHT THERE prolly would watch u & se-mi whilst he's cucking himself. or he's right in the middle of the action, both ur pussies rubbing on his dick.

also, i love nam-gyu corruption kink, to someone whos absolutely clean, pure, law abiding citizen, prolly doesnt even know half of the kinks or stuff u see in pornhub, BUT THAT'S WHY NAM-GYU EXISTS!! to teach you allat, to corrupt u :^

i just dont feel like hes a good person at all, in smut mindset, and in fr the character, hes those toxic bfs who's only "strong" cuz u're just a lil bit weaker than him. and if u try to leave, nuh-uh, u can't, u wanted a child to begin with right?

"fuck you mean, 'i'm leaving you'? bitch please," he scolds, pumping another load inside- straight to your womb, "you wanna be a single mom?" you shake your head immediately, you were on birth control.. but maybe not... oh no! "then don't bullshit me with saying you're 'leaving me'... you know you love me." let's just hope he'll be a good dad... (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

if anyone needs a fluffy lovey namgyu smut this aint the place.. jk, i would prolly post one too heheh <3 also, now i wanna make a full on incel!nam-gyu x reader smut mannn

[enhaniki-san]

Nishimura Riki as your classmate that's in love you.

warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, etc.

♱ student!reader who is a mean girl and delinquent but classmate!ni-ki thinks he might be into it.

♱ classmate!niki who keeps on showing up wherever you go.

"what the fuck, niki? do you have a tracker on me or something?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

he replied, "it's just a coincidence." shrugging casually. "don't flatter yourself."

"bullshit." you shot back, crossed arms. "you're always popping up where i least want you."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who's very attentive to you and even though he never actually said it, he's making it painfully obvious how much he likes you.

when the teacher had finally decided to do something about your constant tardiness, you ended up sweeping the dusty classroom floor where ni-ki spotted you.

"what do you want?" you asked when you heard his footsteps. you turned to face him, resting your hands on the broom handle.

he replied, "i'm just going to wait for you."

you rolled your eyes and turned back to your task. "don't you have something better to do?"

"hmm, not really." he stepped into the room, "i think this is more fun."

"watching me clean? oh you've got a weird definition of 'fun'."

he didn't answer. he simply stood there, watching you and even though he is silent, ni-ki's presence was still distracting.

you felt tired suddenly and with a huff, you glanced over your shoulder.

"ca-can you help me?"

the words left your mouth quietly before you could stop them, you instantly regretted it. "my god..." you thought. you weren't used to asking anyone for help, let alone ni-ki's.

your cheeks burned slightly as you turned away. "nevermind..." you said, turning to focus on the floor again.

ni-ki stepped forward and took the broom from your hands without a word.

"hey-"

"i got it." he said, cutting you off. he started sweeping like he'd been doing it all his life and within minutes, the dirt pile you'd been struggling with had already doubled in size.

you stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do or feel with yourself. "you don't have to do everything..."

"you asked for help, so i'm just being thorough." he said, making you flustered.

you turned away and muttered, "thanks, i guess."

"no problem." he replied, still focused on sweeping.

you couldn't help but steal a glance at him. his sleeves were rolled up slightly and his hair was bouncing with every movement.

ni-ki looked so…

and before you could finish that thought, he dusted his hands off with a satisfied smile. "done. anything else you want me to do?"

what is he, a butler?

you stared and blinked at him, unsure how to respond. finally, you shook your head. "no... that's it."

"good." he said, walking past you to put the broom away then he leaned close to you making you step back. "next time, just ask me from the start. you know i don't mind doing stuff for you."

"are you genie?"

"jinny? who's that jerk?"

"the genie from the movie, you idiot..."

ni-ki laughed awkwardly. "ahh the one from movie."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who gets jealous easily when a guy approaches you.

"hey." a voice called. you looked up to see a guy from another class approaching, smiling easy and confident. "do you wanna partner up for gym?"

"ni-ki! here!"

you turned and saw ni-ki standing with a group of guys with a soccer ball in his hands. he was staring at the guy beside you and without hesitation, he launched the ball. not towards his friends though but directly at the guy's head.

the ball smacked into the back of his head with a satisfying thud, cutting off whatever the guy was about to say.

"ow! what the hell?" the guy turned around, rubbing the back of his head as niki jogged over, faking innocence.

"sorry, bad aim." ni-ki said, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips said otherwise.

the guy said something under his breath before walking off, leaving you staring at ni-ki in disbelief.

"seriously?" you asked, shaking your head.

ni-ki shrugged, completely unapologetic. "yeah, so what?" he asked.

you rolled your eyes, kicking another rock as you walked away from him.

♱ classmate!ni-ki who keeps asking you to go to school everyday that you actually started showing up little by little and going in early didn't seem so bad anymore, and not to mention, you're grades were starting to improve too.

you handed back his notes then ni-ki adjusted your tie, his knuckles were brushing against your chest.

suddenly, ni-ki glanced at his watch then cupped your face gently. "i gotta go before someone sees me hanging out with a bad girl." he teased, grinning while anticipating your reaction.

you raised an eyebrow, scoffing. "oh, so you're embarrassed to be seen with me?"

his lips curled into a smirk, "i'll kiss you in front of everyone if you want." he said, adding a laugh.

you eyes widened, heat started to rush to your cheeks. flustered, you pulled his hands away. "you just said-"

"i'll see you later!" ni-ki interrupted, spinning on his heel with a playful grin before sprinting off, leaving you standing there, completely stunned.

"that guy..."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who teases you about your handwriting but secretly keeps every note you've ever written for him.

♱ classmate!ni-ki who kept asking to copy your homework, but it's actually just an excuse to check if you did it right.

♱ classmate!ni-ki whom you unexpectedly started making out with, one night while studying at your house.

and when he stood and stretched after, you accidentally looked at his pants where his dick were straining against the fabric, making a tent on his sweats.

you quickly whipped your head away. but ni-ki noticed and laughed as he walked towards the bathroom. "yeah, but i promise it's nothing you can't handle."

♱ classmate!ni-ki who seems to be really patient with you.

you wandered through the library then you spotted niki sitting by the window. his head were leaning back against the seat, eyes closed and looking so peaceful.

your heart ached slightly. you sat down quietly beside him, trying not to disturb him.

and as if sensing your presence, ni-ki's eyes fluttered open. a small smile formed his lips as he shifted, putting his arm on the back of the seat behind, welcoming you. then, without a word, he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

"i missed you." he murmured, his voice were low and sleepy.

you swallowed hard, heat creeping up your neck and cheeks. "what happened the other day…" you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. "did you tell anyone?"

ni-ki lifted his head slightly, his expression turned into worry. "no, of course i didn't."

"good…" you muttered, letting out a shaky breath you didn't realize you'd been holding.

he smiled faintly and rested his head against your shoulder again, his hand grabbed yours, caressing it, as if reassuring you.

"i- it's not a big deal, right? niki?" you asked.

ni-ki's jaw tightened for the briefest moment, his outward calm masking the storm that's happening inside. maybe it's just making out but the truth? he's been thinking about it nonstop, replaying every detail in his mind and it gave him more clarity just how much he likes you... and that he had probably stroked his dick thousand more times since that day.

but he wasn't about to let you know that.

"no." he whispered, his lips brushing close to your ear, "it's not."

you turned to him, your eyes lighting up with relief. "great! thanks…"

before he could respond, you stood abruptly, brushing your skirt down. "well, i've got to go now. see you!" you said, smiling while giving him a quick wave.

ni-ki watched you go, his hand still resting on the seat where yours had been moments earlier. he sighed confused, running a hand through his hair.

"yeah, sure." he muttered to himself, half-heartedly returning your wave. his eyes watched you until you disappeared from view, and then he leaned back in his chair, the ache in his chest stronger than ever.

♱ classmate!niki who uses your birthday as his phone passcode.

♱ student!reader who's slowly getting more conscious and aware about how popular ni-ki is, but he's yours.

you went back to class where you notice girls were chatting together. "niki asked me to wait for him after class!" a girl squealed nearby, her excitement cutting through your thoughts.

your ears perked up liked a dog then stepped closer to eavesdrop.

"do you think he'll ask you out?" another girl added.

you scoffed audibly, unable to help yourself. the sound drew their attention and you froze as their curious gazes landed on you. blinking awkwardly, you mumbled an apology and quickly walked away.

you: are you busy after class?

you: are you going somewhere with someone?

ni-ki: oh, right. i'm just going to talk to the new class representative. like an orientation thing.

ni-ki: i can cancel, though.

you laughed loudly and shook your head.

you: no, no! don't cancel. we can hang out later.

later, the two of you were lounging on your couch, the TV playing in the background. ni-ki had his head resting on your lap, scrolling aimlessly on his phone but after a while, he sat and he set it aside. you could feel him staring at you.

"what?" you asked, not bothering to look away from your own phone.

he didn't answer immediately, instead he gently moved your hair to the side. his fingers were brushing lightly against your neck.

"stop." you muttered, still scrolling.

ni-ki chuckled softly. "i don't want to."

sighing, you set your phone aside as well, giving him an exasperated look. "why the hell do you keep doing this?"

"doing what?"

"i don't know, maybe the flirting, doing everything for me, following me around-"

"oh, i thought you already knew." ni-ki interrupted.

"knew what?"

"that i like you." he said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

you blinked, taken aback, before scoffing. "how can you say that so casually…" you muttered under your breath.

he smirked at your reaction. "what? it's true. i thought you knew."

"i know that! but i just never heard you actually say it until now." you replied, your voice quieter than before.

ni-ki sat up slightly, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to meet his gaze. "i like you, y/n."

you turned your head slightly. "i- i said i know that… you don't have to repeat it."

his lips curved into a mischievous smile. "you shy?"

you pushed his hands away, cheeks flushed. "i'm not!"

ni-ki didn't buy it, a chuckle escaped his lips. he reached down and grabbed one of your thighs, effortlessly pulling it over his lap.

"i bet you're going to stop being like this once i become your girlfriend." you mumbled.

he shook his head with a smirk. "hmm, i don't think so."

"rea- really?"

he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. "yes," he murmured. then, his arms wrapped around you. "come closer."

you scooted closer to him, your heart pounding as he tilted his head, capturing your lips in a series of soft, gentle kisses. slowly, the kisses deepened, his hands sliding to your waist.

your hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as his lips trailed down your jawline, every touch of his lips on your skin made you shiver.

breathless, ni-ki paused, his lips hovering over yours.

"you're hard." you said.

he kissed you again, deeply before pulling away slightly. "it's okay."

"but i want to..." you whispered against his lips. ni-ki smiled, reaching down and with a slow, deliberate motion, pulled his pants down, revealing his erection that's pulsing with anticipation.

he felt a rush of heat as your eyes locked onto him, the intensity in your gaze sending shivers down his spine. he reached out, cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

his cock throbbed when he felt your fingers around it, light as feathers, stroking his hard length.

ni-ki's breath hitched as you lowered your head, your lips following the path your fingers had taken. "that's good..." he groaned out as you took him in your mouth. the sensation was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure crashing through him. your head bobbing up and down, gagging each time his cock hit the back of your throat.

he gripped your hair, his fingers tangling tightly in the soft strands causing slight pain you chose to ignore.

"yes, just like that." he managed to gasp, breath catching in his throat while arching into your mouth as the pleasure became overwhelming. ni-ki shuddered, a deep guttural sound escaping him, hips bucking wildly as he came, a hot burst of release flooding your mouth.

cum started to drip in the corner of your mouth, "don't let it out." he said, wiping the remains as he watched you swallowed it like a good girl, your eyes locked on his.

you sat beside him with a smirk playing on your lips. "you're a freak."

ni-ki chuckled at your remark. "for you."

you started making out again, the kiss charged with the afterglow of what had just happened. then you felt his hand slip down, stroking his member, which was already starting to stiffen again.

"you're still hard..."

"i know, right?" ni-ki groaned, looking so needy. "can i put it inside you?"

a/n: the only way i could write these days lol

please read Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend

read part-timers!niki x reader

read part-timers!niki x reader part 2

read snitch - reader x niki

read touché - niki x reader

read touché - niki x reader part 2

read exes - niki x reader

[angelltheninth]

How We've Both Changed

Pairing: Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, friends to enemies to lovers, clit stimulation, name-calling, degradation, rough sex, creampie, teasing, dub-con, body betrayal, forced orgasm, dom/sub dynamics, manipulation

Word count: 0.7k

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Caleb has an iron grip on my brain. I won't hear anything about it because it's not gonna get any better.

"Look at you. When did you get like this? So submissive and docile? Is it those... other men you've been hanging around with? Well it doesn't matter now, I'm gonna show you what a real man is like." Caleb growled next to your ear as he fucked you into your bed with the full intention of breaking you or it.

At first you were happy to see him. Even if he seemed a little bit different. But this was never the way you imagined he'd make love to you. Could this even be called making love? Because his love doesn't feel like the love you used to get from him.

Every sound was rough, every look judgmental, every thrust painful, every touch scolding.

He smirked as you let out a whimper, weather it was from pain or pleasure he didn't seem to care all that much. His fingers, cold against you, kept pressing and torturing your clit to the point it became painful. "This isn't about you feeling good, although I can tell that you are by the way your cunt is squeezing around me. But don't mistake that for my kindness, love." Caleb leaned in close. "I waited for you. Every day that was hell I kept going because of you. But you... you forgot about me the moment other men showed up."

"I never forgot. Caleb, I... always thought about you." You wanted to reach out and hold him but you only managed to struggle against the unyielding grip he had around your wrists.

Caleb smirked above you, his cock ramming itself into your pussy, creating lewd, wet, sloppy sounds. "Really? When you fucked yourself with those toys you thought of me? Or when you were on all fours, desperately trying to make yourself come? What about when you were with those other guys, did you want it to be me fucking you instead?"

His words hurt as much as the way he was fucking you did. "I never... I haven't been with anyone... in a really long time."

"Huh. Explains why this pussy is so easy. It needed a good cock. You'll never need or want for anything ever again, I'll give it all to you!" The necklace hung just above your face, clicking and shining, almost like Caleb was taunting you with it. His rigid cock kept hitting your sweetspot every time his hips smacked heavily against yours, causing your back to arch and your clit to push against his fingers. "So messy. God, you've become such a desperate whore in the time I've been gone. Your pussy is so good at taking cock isn't it. Mine. The only cock it'll be taking will be my cock!"

Caleb pushed his fingers into your already abused pussy and curled them upwards just as his cock sank in and stilled. "Ca-Caleb, Caleb, that's too much!"

"No it's not. No it's fucking not, I know you can take it. You can be good. If you were good for those other guys, then won't you be good for me too?" His voice dropped to an almost cooing tone. "Don't you want to be good for me?" He asked, his fingers curling again and again, each movement sending lighting across your body until your mind went blank.

"I can... I can't-!" You cried out, tears spilling down your face.

"You can. My love, I know you can. You will." His tone turned commanding towards the end, "You will come for me." With one last cruel flick of your clit you came with a desperate whine, your voice breaking as you arched off the bed. Just then he chose to let go of your hands, allowed you to embrace him. "Yes, hold onto me. I've got you, I've got you now." He chuckled against your ear, his fingers easing out of you and holding you against him with both arms as his cum filled your desperate, fucked pussyhole.

Desperate sounds kept falling from your lips as you shook against him, your clit pressing against his abs, your legs locked around his hips and pussy stretched to its limits. "Ca-ah-leb..."

"Easy, easy, I'm here, I've got you. I'm not going anywhere, I'm never leaving you again." His words were flavored with an equal amount of a sweet promise and a dangerous threat. "We're together again. Nothing will get in the way of our love. As long as we love each other, that's all that matters." The more he cooed those words in your ear the more you started to believe he was right.

[grinnames]

200+ FOLLOWERS SPECIAL EVENT

THE POSSESSION COLLECTION

I've decided to cook up a fun little event that is open for anyone wanting in! Inspired by @4thwallbreakerdraws2, (they're awesome go check them out) and @niramihasters's Billsona trend, I've decided that I want to draw your OCs, but with a twist...

Here's a special lore-drop about Godbox AU:

SMG4 AND SMG3 CAN POSSESS BODIES.

They do so by physically crawling into someone's body, kind of like a ghost!

Here's the plan!

You draw or write your character about to be possessed by SMG4 or SMG3! How do they get possessed? Do they get jumped and forcefully inhabited? Do they fight back? Or do they willingly let them in? Did they make a deal with the demon? Or did they even… lose a bet? Were they tricked? Bribed? Creativity is not required, but it is encouraged! Make sure to mention me (@grinnames or @smg4godboxaucollection) in the post!

This step is optional. You can draw or describe the possessed design yourself! If you're gonna submit a drawing, make sure it at least is flatly colored. Either way...

...I draw one of my boys wearing your OC’s skin like a glove in the order they were submitted! Please note that I will be taking my own creative liberties, and my design may not always line up with yours.

Window for submissions closes March 1!

Here's a rough idea of what possession looks like for the two of them:

Placement of the missing texture skin can vary, SMG3's claws are protruding from the inside of the fingers, and if you are not comfortable drawing gore, don't feel forced!

Something extra to know if you are considering making the design yourself:

SMG4 could care less about clothes. He has little to no fashion sense. As long as he's allowed to stretch, he fine with anything.

SMG3 always cares about how he looks no matter what body he inhabiting.

Do with this information as you wish.

RELEASE OF LIABILITY (joke): By joining in this game, you consent to having your OC's free will be stolen by force and their body used as a demonic tool for "silly silly fun times." Grinnames is not responsible for any injuries, trauma, or possession-induced actions that may be inflicted upon or by your characters. "Accidents" include, but are not limited to: bleeding from the head, puncture damage to the arms, wrists, and fingers, bleeding gums, bleeding back, stretched facial skin, twisted joints, and "the general feeling of being violated."

I'm looking forward to seeing how this goes! Will you kindly let my boys borrow your OC?

Again, thank you all so much for the support!

EDIT: If you're not gonna design the OC yourself, please send me a reference or description of your OC to work with!!!

ALSO please only choose one OC and either SMG3 or SMG4, I will not be drawing both!

(I'm sorry for the late information I've never done this sort of thing before please forgive me)

[thebarneschronicles]

Closer To Home IV

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 8.7k

Synopsis: The storm changed everything. A week spent trapped together, moving around each other like it was second nature. Mornings spent wrapped in his warmth, nights spent unraveling under his hands. And now, the words you’ve been swallowing for months are fighting to break free and you don’t know how much longer you can keep them in.

You love him. And he knows it. But love has never been easy for Bucky. And if you say it—if you let yourself finally speak the truth—will it pull him closer, or will it send him running?

Trigger Warnings: Emotional breakdowns; Angst, banter, and all the feels. Surprisingly no smut this time around... but their chance will come!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Author’s Note: The words are out... now we can focus on their other shenanigans. Loving to see your thoughts about this story and my ask box is always open if you wanna know more. P.S.: There'll probably be more updates this week, but I'm not setting it in stone. B xx

--

“Just kiss me. Keep my mouth shut, will you? Do it until I forget my name.”

The kissing had worked. The slow, lingering press of his lips, the desperate way his hands had explored your skin like he was learning you by touch alone—every moment had distracted you from the pressing truth of your feelings. And when he finally took you, when he split you open at your very core only to put you back together again with every roll of his hips, every whispered praise against your lips, it had done its job.

You hadn’t said it.

Those three little words that kept haunting you, lingering on the tip of your tongue every waking moment since Bucky Barnes had stepped into your life.

I love you.

They could cement everything you had built together or crumble it into dust. And yet, they pressed behind your teeth, growing heavier each day, aching to be voiced, desperate to reach his ears.

You loved him.

God knew when it had happened. Was it when you first read his files, when he was still just a name and a tragic history? Or when he first looked at you—really looked at you—after you were assigned to work alongside him and Sam? Maybe it was the day he effortlessly picked up the stack of reports you had been struggling to carry, flashing you that small hesitant smile he wouldn’t normally share with anyone.

Or was it that first night he offered to walk you home?

No. Who were you kidding? It had happened long before then.

It had crept in through stolen glances over mission briefings, through late-night talks over cups of coffee you always made for him without asking, in the hopes of stealing just a moment of his time. It had settled in the quiet, in the routine of his grumbled, "Morning, doll," when he found you in the communal kitchen, in the way his tired eyes softened when you gave him that worried look as he walked in, battered and bruised from a fight.

And now, it was torture.

Because you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The snowstorm had come and gone, the city slowly crawling back to life after nearly a week buried in ice. You and Bucky had spent those days together, and you had been blindsided by just how easy it had been—how natural it was to cohabitate. As if this was something you did all the time, as if domesticity had always been woven into the fabric of your relationship.

In the midst of unspoken feelings and a push and pull you actively ignored, you learned things. That he liked to watch you cook, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, incapable of hiding he was mesmerized. That he didn’t mind washing the dishes afterward, sleeves rolled up as he worked in comfortable silence, so long as you kept him company. That he’d rub your ankles while you lounged on the couch after hours spent bustling around the house, his strong hands kneading into your skin with practiced ease, relishing in the way your breath hitched when he squeezed just right.

He was the perfect boyfriend.

Except he wasn’t your boyfriend.

Because you couldn’t call him that. Could you?

You groaned, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes, your head dropping onto your desk. Hours had passed, and you still couldn’t concentrate on anything. Your mind was consumed by the what-ifs, spiraling around the impossible tangle of your relationship with a 1940s super soldier who carried more trauma than you could count on both hands.

Fantastic. Just great.

The faint scuff of boots outside your door jolted you back to reality. You lifted your head just as Sam Wilson leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, an all-too-knowing smirk tugging at his lips. He held a file in one hand, but the amusement in his eyes told you he had other priorities.

"Well, did I just catch you napping on the job?"

You snorted, leaning back in your chair. "I wish. And good morning to you too, Sam. How can I help you?"

"Mission stuff," he said, tossing the file onto your desk. "Figured I’d go over it with you before Barnes shows up to derail our day with his useless questions. Also, wanted to check in—how was your week harboring a former assassin cyborg in your apartment?"

You pressed your lips together as memories of those days surged through your mind—his touch, his warmth, the way his eyes held you like you were something he never wanted to lose, the hunger in them when you straddled him. You hesitated, caught up in the memories, which was enough to set Sam off.

"Did you talk about it yet?" he pressed.

"About what, exactly?" you asked, feigning innocence.

"Oh, I don’t know—your big ol’ feelings? The fact that you two have been dancing around the subject for months? Did you ask him to be your boyfriend yet?"

With the playful lilt in his voice and the mischief dancing in his eyes, it was hard to believe this man was a war veteran—let alone Captain America.

You rolled your eyes, tapping your nails against the desk. "Don’t you have aliens to fight, Cap? Kittens to rescue? Children to kiss?"

"I’m Captain America, not a politician," Sam shot back, dragging out a chair and dropping into it with a pointed look. "So, that’s a no?"

You exhaled sharply, rubbing at your temples and urging the flush on your cheeks to go away. "We didn’t really… talk much. Not really."

Sam let out a long whistle, shaking his head. "Damn. Didn’t think Barnes had it in him."

"Sam—" you groaned.

"Oh, come on. You spent a whole week holed up with Terminator, what do you expect me to do? Just sit back and not pry?"

"You are way too invested in my love life for someone who has yet to offer a single useful piece of advice."

Sam grinned, leaning forward. "Alright, spill. What happened during the storm?"

You hesitated, glancing down the hallway to make sure Bucky was nowhere in sight. When the coast was clear, you exhaled, shoulders sagging. "We stayed at mine for most of it, but one night, we went to his place, and… I kind of lost it."

Sam’s smirk faded. "Lost it how?"

You swallowed hard, fingers twisting together. "I broke down, Sam. Full-on sobbing, ugly crying—everything. He wanted to know why, and I just—" Your voice caught, and you forced yourself to push through it. "I told him. That I know about Hydra. The torture. And... I saw the way he lives, like he’s punishing himself. Like he doesn’t think he deserves anything good. It wrecked me."

Sam’s expression tightened, but his voice stayed level. "And how did he handle it?"

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. "I didn’t give him the chance. I was about to say ‘I love you,’ and I panicked. So instead…" You sighed, dropping your gaze. "We slept together. More than once. And now everything’s a mess because I’m—" The words caught in your throat, heavy and terrifying. "Because I’m in love with him. And he knows. But I haven’t said it to him yet."

Sam blinked, then let out a low whistle. "Damn. Maybe I should start brooding—chicks love it."

You shot him a glare, but your heart wasn’t in it. He held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. So you’re in love with him. What’s the problem?"

"Everything," you whispered, the weight of it pressing against your ribs. "I love him, Sam. And I haven’t told him because… I don’t even know if I should."

Sam’s teasing faded, his voice softer now. "Why not?"

You swallowed hard, staring out the window as if the answer was somewhere out there. "Because I don’t know if he’ll stay. He’s lost so much already. People, time, parts of himself. What if I tell him, and it’s too much? What if it pushes him away? Or worse—what if he doesn’t feel the same?"

Sam exhaled, shaking his head. "You really are in your own head about this."

"That’s helpful," you shot back, voice thick with sarcasm.

He leaned forward, forearms braced against the desk, voice steady and certain, that way he usually got when he was about to drop some wisdom. "Look. This is Bucky we’re talking about. Yeah, he’s been through hell. More than anyone should have to survive. But you know what else? He’s still here. He’s choosing to be here, with you. And if you love him, and he already knows—because trust me, he knows—then saying the words isn’t going to send him running."

Your chest ached, emotions clawing their way up your throat. "How do you know that? Because this… this is eating me alive, Sam. I just want him to stay. I want to love him. And I’m terrified he won’t let me. There have been so many times I almost said it, but I had to choke it back because…" Your voice cracked, a tear slipping free before you could stop it. "Because I know this will either be everything or it’ll be the thing that breaks us. And I don’t know if I can face it if it’s the latter."

Sam’s expression shifted, his voice unwavering yet gentle. "Maybe you should let him decide that."

“And what if he decides it’s not worth it?” The words barely made it past the lump in your throat. You dropped your gaze, unwilling to let Sam see the way your lips trembled, the way your hands clenched into fists against your lap.

“He’s had enough people deciding everything for him to last a lifetime,” Sam said, his tone edged with something firm. “Don’t be another one on that list just because you think you know what he'll do. Maybe, if you actually ask him about his feelings, he’ll surprise you.”

“You sound awfully sure of something you know nothing about,” you muttered, but the usual fire in your retorts was absent. It was just exhaustion now, doubt curling into your bones.

“Who said I know nothing?”

That got your attention. Your head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “Sam... What do you know?”

“Nothing,” he replied too quickly, the picture of innocence as he shrugged, but the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away.

“Samuel, I will call your sister.”

Sam’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered, but you caught it. He clicked his tongue, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, about that—maybe don’t. You know Buck had a thing for her back when we were in Louisiana, right?”

Your jaw fell open. “He what?”

Before Sam could respond, heavy footfalls echoed down the hallway. You barely had a moment to process the revelation before Bucky strode into your office, his expression mildly suspicious, his vibranium arm clutching a pastel pink bag. The contrast of the bag’s soft color against his all-black ensemble was so stark it nearly gave you whiplash.

“There you are,” Sam boomed, standing with a grin as he clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “What’s in the bag, Barnes? Something sweet for your sweetheart?”

Bucky shot him an unimpressed look before his eyes landed on you, and his features softened instantly. “Breakfast. For her, not for you,” he clarified, lifting the bag slightly. Then his brows drew together, scanning your face with quiet concern. “Why are you crying? What did he do?”

“I’m not crying,” you rushed to say, though the evidence of your damp cheeks begged to differ. “It’s allergies,” You quickly wiped them with the back of your hands, forcing a smile. “What did you get?”

“I got you a bagel from that place you like,” Bucky said, stepping closer, his voice laced with something almost hesitant. "They didn’t have coffee, so I got you, uh… a strawberry matcha? The girl at the counter said you'd like it." He shifted slightly, as if bracing for your reaction.

You froze for a second, staring at him. The idea of Bucky—gruff, no-nonsense Bucky—standing at a café counter and listening to drink recommendations was almost too much. But then the weight of it settled in your chest: he’d gone out of his way. Remembered your favorite bagel. Chosen something new just because he wanted to bring you something—God, you were in too deep.

“That’s really sweet, Buck.” You pushed yourself up from your chair, unable to stop yourself from leaning in, rising on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm beneath your lips, his stubble rough against your fingers. “You didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”

“I wanted to,” he murmured, echoing something you had said to him so many times before it almost felt like second nature now. For a moment, Bucky just stared at you, his blue eyes tracing your face like he was trying to decide on something. Then, before you could fully process what was happening, he shifted slightly, tilting his head, and brushed a kiss against your lips.

It was soft—so soft it almost didn’t feel real. But it was enough to send your mind reeling, your breath hitching in your throat as a jolt of electricity raced through you. When he pulled back, his expression was unreadable, and you were too stunned to speak. Your fingers gripped the paper bag, anchoring yourself to something, anything, to help you process what had just happened.

And then Sam’s voice shattered the moment.

“Ah, look at the two of you. My favorite couple,” he said with a dramatic sigh.

Your entire body stiffened. “Sam,” you hissed, heat flooding your cheeks.

“What?” Sam shrugged innocently, though the smirk tugging at his lips said otherwise. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. Right, Buck?”

Bucky didn’t so much as flinch, but his jaw tightened slightly, a tell tale sign of his annoyance that only you seemed to notice.

“Sam, we haven’t even—” You started, grasping at some semblance of control over the rapidly unraveling situation, but Sam cut you off with an exaggerated groan.

"For the love of God, Barnes, put her out of her misery already," Sam groaned, nudging him with an elbow. "Tell her she’s your girlfriend. Tell her she’s got you wrapped around her finger. Do us all a favor."

You wanted to die. Right there. Spontaneously combust and vanish from existence.

“Anyway, that’s my cue to leave,” Sam said, grabbing the file he’d initially dropped on your desk.

“But we haven’t even discussed—” You started, grasping at the one thing that could spare you from the awkwardness sinking into your chest.

“We can discuss it later. Right now, I’ll leave you lovebirds alone to talk.” Sam said with an infuriatingly knowing look before turning toward the door. He paused, glancing over his shoulder with a wicked grin. “Oh, and by the way… I told her about Sarah.”

Bucky inhaled sharply through his nose, exhaling in a long, put-upon sigh. His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, annoyance now evident. “Sam…”

“Consider it payback for flirting with my sister. And what’s a little jealousy? It adds spice to the relationship,” Sam teased, stepping just out of Bucky’s immediate reach.

Bucky turned fully toward him, which only made Sam laugh, hands up in mock surrender. “She threatened to call her, man! I had no choice.”

Bucky turned back to you, groaning softly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I swear, he lives to torment me,” he muttered.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound easing some of the tension in your chest. “So… Sarah?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

His head shot up, his blue eyes widening, genuine worry flickering across his face. “Nothing happened,” he said quickly. “With Sarah, I mean. There’s—there’s nothing to tell.”

You bit back a grin, warmth curling in your chest at his obvious distress. Reaching out, you took his hand, squeezing it gently. “Relax, Buck. I’m not upset. Honestly, I’m just shocked you had any interest in anyone besides that waitress before I threw myself on you.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly as your words landed. “You didn’t force me into anything,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. His thumb brushed slow circles over the back of your hand, grounding you in the moment.

“Good,” you teased, pulling the pink drink bag closer to you with a smirk. “Now let’s try this strawberry matcha you so lovingly procured for me.”

You did it. You got over the awkwardness by skillfully dodging the subject. You nearly sighed in relief—right up until Bucky let out a noise, half scoff, half laugh, before his amusement faded into something else as he stepped closer.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he mumbled, moving behind you with a calculated slowness, his presence looming but never overbearing. His arm slid around your middle, pulling you back against him, and your breath hitched as his chest pressed against your back. “And it won’t work.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice unsteady .

Bucky held you in place, his lips brushing your ear as he leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Why were you crying?” he murmured, low and insistent, his lips trailing down to press the faintest kiss to the curve of your neck.

Your knees felt like they might give out, your eyes fluttering shut involuntarily. You sent a silent thank-you to the universe for the secluded corner your office was tucked into, sparing you the humiliation of anyone catching you like this—being thoroughly undone by your super soldier.

“Sam told me I suck at my job,” you lied, barely managing to string the words together.

Bucky chuckled, the vibration of it reverberating against your back. “You’re a terrible liar,” he said, finally twisting you around to face him. His arms circled your waist, holding you securely, leaving no room for escape—not that you wanted to.

“And your interrogation tactics are crap,” you shot back, trying to mask your flustered state with sarcasm. Your hands instinctively slid up to rest on his shoulders, fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his shirt.

“We’ll see about that,” he warned, his voice teasing but his gaze unwavering as it flicked over your face.

You took a moment to really look at him, letting your eyes trace over every detail—the softness in his gaze, the faint smirk tugging at his lips, the roughness of his stubbled jaw that you knew would scrape deliciously against your skin. Your heart raced as you took him in, suddenly overwhelmed by how effortlessly gorgeous he was. “God, you’re handsome,” you blurted, your voice quiet but sure. “It’s unfair.”

His smirk deepened, though his expression remained serious. “Compliments will get you nowhere,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I will make you tell me.”

You considered his words, tilting your head as you let your nails trail lightly through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Maybe,” you said, your lips curving into a sly smile. “Maybe we can do it over dinner?”

Bucky’s brows raised slightly, a flicker of interest crossing his face before he recovered, the smirk returning in full force. “Are you asking me out, or is this another attempt to dodge the question?”

“Maybe both,” you quipped, tugging him just a little closer, your noses nearly brushing.

His gaze softened, his arms tightening around you. “Dinner, huh?”

“Dinner,” you confirmed, your heart thundering as the word hung between you.

The look in his eyes told you he was already on board, but his voice stayed teasing as he finally replied. “Fine. Your place. I’ll bring the food. But don’t think this means you’re off the hook.”

You laughed, leaning your forehead against his, but your insides twisted with the promise of the conversation that awaited you. 

–

Instead of leaving work together, Bucky had, surprisingly, let you fend for yourself. You walked the few blocks back to your apartment with a jittery sensation that only grew more restless as you thought about how the night would unfold.

There was no avoiding it. Tonight, you'd have to talk about it, define your relationship once and for all, and you had no idea how it would play out. Or if you were prepared for it.

By the time you reached your door, you were wound so tight with nerves you were unable to sit still. You headed straight for the kitchen, hoping to lose yourself in the steady rhythm of baking. Soon, the rich scent of cinnamon and apples filled the small space, wrapping around you like a hug. The pie had barely cooled and you had just gotten finished spritzing your perfume when Bucky’s knock came at the door. You smoothed your hair one last time, and opened it with a breathless smile.

There he was. Casual, but devastating in his dark Henley and leather jacket, black jeans hugging his frame in all the right places. He had a bottle of whiskey tucked under one arm and a stack of takeout bags in the other—Thai food, from the place you’d offhandedly mentioned wanting to try. How did he remember it? You had no idea.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice soft, warm, and entirely too casual for the buzz of energy humming between you. His blue eyes swept over your frame, lingering just a second too long. You had thrown on a simple outfit after your shower—soft jeans and an oversized sweater that slid teasingly off one shoulder—but the way he looked at you made you feel like you were naked and exposed.

“Thanks,” you murmured, your cheeks heating as you lifted onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He tilted his head slightly, deepening it for just a moment, accepting the way your hands cupped his cheeks to keep him steady, before pulling back with a sigh.

He couldn’t resist giving you another once over, before he got distract. “What’s that smell?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.

“Apple pie,” you said, closing the door behind him. “I figured I’d take care of dessert since you were handling dinner.”

His brows lifted. “Apple pie? That’s awfully domestic…”

You shrugged, feeling the blood heating up your cheeks. “Thought it might remind you of home—or, you know, simpler times.”

Bucky hummed, setting the food and whiskey down before reaching out and tugging on the hem of your sweater. “Looks good on you.”

“Domesticity or the sweater?” You joked, closing the door behind you and leaning on it as you watched him. It never failed to catch you off guard—how effortlessly he settled into your space. Dropping the bags on the counter, peeling off his gloves and jacket, rolling up his sleeves. He moved like a man who belonged, who knew he was home, as much as he refused to call it home. The sight of it stole your breath.

His lips quirked. “Both.”

Dinner was easy, the two of you falling into a comfortable rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. He teased you about the mountain of spring rolls you’d pulled onto your plate (“Is that all for you, or am I allowed to have one?”), and you ribbed him right back for always stealing bites off your plate instead of sticking to his own. The laughter came easily, and for a while, the tension simmering under the surface felt like a distant echo.

That was, until Bucky leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting from playful to intent.

“So,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “Ready for the Spanish Inquisition?”

You groaned, your head dropping into your hands. “Oh, come on. Can’t you let me off the hook?”

“Not a chance,” he said, his voice laced with humor but his eyes sharp. “I already let you off. Twice.”

The covert mention of the night you broke down didn’t go unnoticed. Lifting your head, you rested your chin in your hand, meeting his steady blue gaze with a pout. The stare-off felt like a challenge—like you were daring him to back off while he silently willed you to break. The only question was who would give in first. And you had no doubt—it would be you.

You’d do anything Bucky Barnes asked you to. Sighing, you pushed back from the table and stood. “Fine. If you’re going to interrogate me, we’re at least going to make it fun.”

"Fun?" His tone was doubtful, but the slight twitch of his lips gave him away. "In my experience, interrogations usually involve dark rooms and torture."

"Not this one. As tempting as it’d be to watch you try all that Winter Soldier stuff on me—" You cut yourself off before saying too much. This was already giving away enough. "We’re playing Truth or Drink." You nodded toward the whiskey he’d brought. "Grab your liquor, Sergeant, and meet me in the living room."

You plopped down on the soft rug in front of your couch, crossing your legs, an arm leaning over the soft cushions as you settled in. The rug’s texture was a comfort beneath you, grounding you for what you suspected was about to be a very revealing game. Bucky followed, setting the whiskey and two glasses down on the coffee table before sitting across from you, all the way down the other side of the couch.

“You’re so far away,” you complained, leaning forward slightly.

“It’s on purpose,” he said with a smirk. “Can’t let you distract me. I’ve got a mission here.”

His teasing tone made your stomach flip, but you masked it with an exaggerated sigh, rolling your eyes as you reached for the whiskey bottle. “Fine, Barnes. Let’s get this over with.” You poured a generous amount into each glass and handed him one. “You wanna go first, or should I?”

“Ladies first,” he said smoothly.  Ever the gentleman—even when he was expertly deploying psychological and emotional blackmail.

Resigning yourself to your inevitable demise, you pretended to think, tapping a finger against your chin. “Alright. Tell me a story about you and Steve.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a question.”

“Fine. Would you please tell me a story about you and Steve?”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he took a slow sip of whiskey. “What kind of story?”

“I don’t know... Something interesting. Something no one else knows. Something fun.”

For a moment, Bucky’s gaze drifted, lost somewhere in memories you’d never be able to touch. Then, a small, genuine smile pulled at his lips, and your chest ached at the sight of it. “Alright… Before the serum, before the whole ‘Star-Spangled Man with a Plan’ schtick, when he was just a scrawny kid, Steve used to put newspapers in his shoes to make himself look taller.”

You grinned. “That’s adorable.”

“Yeah, well, not so adorable when it rained and he forgot to take them out.” Bucky snorted, shaking his head. “One time, we got caught in a downpour on the way to a dance. Steve walks in, shoes squelching, and suddenly the whole place smells like wet dog and cheap ink.” He chuckled, eyes shining. “God, the way people looked at him. I had to convince the bouncer we weren’t trying to stink up the joint on purpose.”

You laughed, watching the way his shoulders eased, the usual tension in his frame loosening as he let himself revel in a memory that didn’t hurt to hold onto.

Then, before you could stop yourself, you blurted, “Do you think Steve would’ve approved?”

Bucky blinked, confused. “Approved of what?”

“Us,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “Me. Being with you.” You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of the couch cushion. “I mean, we only met a few times before… y’know. And from everything I’ve heard, he was pretty protective of you.”

For a second, you thought he might deflect, but instead, Bucky’s answer was firm. Certain. “Yeah. Steve would’ve approved.”

Your heart did a little flip.

“He would’ve liked that you take care of me,” Bucky continued, his voice softer now, the burn of his unvoiced gratitude not going unnoticed.

Something inside you melted. “See, this is why you need to sit closer.” You scooted forward, shifting toward him. “I need to kiss you and I can’t.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nice try, doll, but you’re not getting out of your turn that easily.”

You groaned. “Fine. What’s your question?”

“When was the last time you dated someone?” His eyes glinted with something unreadable, but his tone was casual. “Before... this.” He gestured again, this time between the two of you.

You scoffed. “That’s what you wanna know? Out of all the things?”

“Just answer the question, sweetheart.”

You groaned, pulling at the fluffy rug beneath you. “I don’t know, four, five years ago? I lost count. Last real relationship I had was before I got into this whole ‘girl in the chair’ thing. And it didn’t go well.”

Bucky frowned. “Why?”

“Communication issues,” you said vaguely, then sighed. “And the fact that he had a habit of sleeping with anything that breathed within a three-mile radius—except me. Which included both his best friends. And my roommate at the time.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up before he could school his expression back into something more neutral. “What do you mean ‘except you’?”

You shrugged, forcing nonchalance. “Exactly what it sounds like. He thought I wasn’t... good enough. Or at least not good enough for him.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked, something dangerous flashing in his eyes, but before he could open his mouth, you cut in, “You’re overextending your turn, Sergeant. I’m the one asking questions now.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, visibly annoyed that he couldn’t dig deeper into that revelation, but he nodded. “Fine. Go ahead.”

You hugged your knees to your chest, eyeing him. “Did you really have a thing with Sarah?”

Bucky groaned, tipping his head back against the couch, exhaling like a man who’d just been handed a life sentence. “I knew you wouldn’t just let this go. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill Sam.”

You grinned, biting back a laugh. “That’s not a no.”

Bucky rolled his head to the side to glare at you, but there was no real heat behind it. It made you want to kiss him. But then again, everything made you want to kiss him. “There was no thing,” he huffed, shifting so he was facing you more fully. “We flirted. That’s it. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“I’m not worried,” you said, though the way you hugged your knees closer and half-smothered your smile into your arm made him smirk.

“Sure. You’re jealous, though.”

You wrinkled your nose. “So what if I was?”

Bucky hummed, his smirk widening as he leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something infuriatingly smooth. “It’s cute.”

“Ugh. Shut up.” You stretched your leg out, nudging his thigh with your foot to change the subject. “Your turn.”

Before you could pull away, Bucky’s hand wrapped around your ankle, firm but warm. In one effortless motion, he pulled your leg over his lap, drawing you in like it was the most natural thing in the world. His thumb brushed absently against your shin as he settled back, casual as ever. But the way his fingers found the muscle of your calf—slow, deliberate, kneading just right—was anything but casual. A shiver ran up your spine. If he noticed, he didn’t say a word.

He stayed quiet long enough for your nerves to start creeping in. Then his grip tightened, just slightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, deliberate. “Did you ever think we’d be a one-time thing?”

Your breath hitched. “Us?”

His fingers traced slow, idle patterns against your calf—deceptively nonchalant. But the way his touch set every nerve in your body on fire? Not even close.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “This… thing we’re doing. Did you think it’d last? Or did you go in thinking it was just for one night?”

You hesitated. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, this hadn’t even been on your radar.

“I…” You exhaled, shifting slightly, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. How warm his hands were against your skin. “I never thought of it as a one-time thing.”

His gaze flickered—sharp, assessing, unreadable. “Why?”

You huffed, trying for annoyed, but it came out breathier than you wanted. “Why what?”

His smile was slow, knowing. “Why’d you think it’d be more?”

Your throat tightened. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Reading me.”

“Why?”

“Because some things need to stay a secret.” You swallowed. “Some things… you don’t need to know. It’s too much.”

His grin widened, dark amusement curling at the edges. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

You curled your fingers into the rug beneath you. “Fine.” The word felt heavier than it should. “Just don’t be mad if you don’t like it.” You pressed on before he could interrupt. “This, you… it was never something I could walk away from.”

His fingers stilled—just for a second—before resuming those slow, maddening circles. “And that’s a bad thing?”

You scoffed, mostly to deflect. “For me? Yeah.”

His thumb pressed deeper into your skin. “Why?”

You sighed, dropping your head back against the couch before meeting his gaze again. "Because I got attached. One kiss, and I was already in too deep. And now? Now, I don’t know how to want you halfway. If you had only ever wanted me for a night, I would’ve taken it. Even if it broke me.” Your voice quieted. “And now we’re here, and it’s been months, and if this goes wrong—” You swallowed hard. “If you suddenly realize you don’t want this, or me, or that it's all too much— I don’t think I’d come out the other side in one piece.”

Bucky didn’t speak right away. Just watched you, unreadable as ever. Then, his thumb traced a slow, deliberate path along the curve of your knee, sending another shiver down your spine. “I know”, he said after a moment. Then, softer—raw, stripped of bravado:

“That’s what scares me.”

His words burned, low and true, cutting deeper than you expected. It wasn’t hesitation. It wasn’t doubt. It was something else entirely.

It was honesty.

And in that moment, you felt it—the shift. He was cracking open, piece by piece, letting you see the soft, bleeding parts of him that no one else had ever touched.

He let you see him. All of him. Let you peer in for as long as you wanted, as if he had made peace with it. That there was no wall you couldn’t bring down, so he just accepted it.

And maybe that was the real weight of it. Not the sex, not his past, not your willingness, but this—this terrifying, aching certainty that he could ruin you. That you’d let him. That if he asked, you would lay yourself bare at his feet and never ask for anything in return. He knew that if he asked, you would give him everything. Every last piece of yourself, until he was whole and you were the one bleeding.

Silence stretched between you, thick and humming. His eyes stayed locked onto yours, searching, waiting. And you realized—this was the test. Not the chase, not the tension, not even the words you hadn’t yet spoken. The test was whether you could hold his gaze, whether you could sit in the weight of this moment and not look away.

Your breath came shallow, chest tight, but you didn’t look away.

You couldn’t.

Not when his fingers curled just a little tighter on your thigh, like he was feeling the way you trembled. Not when his gaze flickered down, tracing the shape of your lips, the quickening pulse at your throat, the way your body betrayed you in ways your words refused to.

His voice was softer this time, but no less intense. “You know… I don’t do halfway either.”

Damn him.

The air between you turned electric. Your pulse hammered against your ribs, a warning and an invitation all at once.

“Bucky…” Your voice barely cleared a whisper, but he heard it. His fingers slid a little higher, grazing the sensitive skin of your thigh.

“What?” His tone was laced with challenge, teasing, but his eyes—his eyes were dark. Intent.

You let out a shaky breath. “Don’t… don’t play with me, okay?”

His smirk faltered, something shifting in his expression. “Is that what you think? That I don’t feel the same way? That this is some kind of game?”

“I don’t know.” You swallowed. “You’re hard to read.”

“I’m easier than you think.”

You shook your head. “I can’t read you right now.”

Bucky hummed, tilting his head slightly as you shifted, letting your arm rest against the couch behind him, seeking another point of contact. Your fingers slipped into the soft strands at the nape of his neck—an experiment, really. His lashes fluttered shut, just for a second, and your stomach flipped. Gravity, that’s what he was. A force pulling you in, impossible to resist. God, you wanted to climb into his lap and devour him whole.

“You can read me,” he murmured, eyes still closed. “You’re just scared you’ll see something you can’t ignore.”

Your heart pounded. “You always say that… Like you’re so sure I’ll wake up one day and decide you're a monster.” Your voice was quieter now. “That I'll finally see you the way you see yourself. It's not going to happen, Bucky.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He finally looked at you, his voice quieter now, but no less sure. “I mean… you’ll finally let yourself believe I feel the same way about you as you do about me.”

Your stomach flipped violently.

The air thickened, pressing in from all sides, and suddenly, you weren’t sure if you could breathe right. His words settled deep, threading into places you weren’t ready to touch—places that made you want too much, feel too much. It was too honest, too real, and if you let yourself linger there, you might drown in it.

So, you did the only thing you could. You swerved.

You sucked in a breath, forcing a smirk. “You really gotta stop saying things like that.”

His brow lifted slightly. “Like what?”

“Like… things that make my heart feel like it’s about to explode.” You made a vague, fluttery motion near your chest. “It’s very inconsiderate. You should warn a girl before you go throwing around words like that.”

Bucky huffed out something that almost sounded like a laugh, but he didn’t take the bait. His gaze stayed steady, unyielding, like he was waiting for you to actually sit with what he’d just said.

Nope. Not happening.

Instead, you let a wicked grin curled at your lips, a lifeline in dangerous waters. “Okay, I have a good one.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, wary but intrigued. “Go on.”

You bit your lip, leaning in like you had a secret too tempting to resist. “That first night we had sex… was that your first time since the ’40s?”

For half a second, he just blinked at you, like he couldn’t believe the words had actually left your mouth. Then, with a groan, he tipped his head back against the couch. “Jesus Christ.”

He laughed, but you caught the way the tops of his ears tinged red, his cheeks following suit. “That bad, huh?”

You gasped, swatting at his chest. “I never said that.”

He smirked, reaching for his drink. “Can you get me another one? I might not recover from this.”

You laughed, fingers curling tighter in his hair before dragging down the back of his neck, feeling the way he shivered under your touch. “If I tell you the truth about it, your ego will get so big we’ll both suffocate in this room.” You tilted his chin up with a knuckle, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss. “Come on, tell me.”

He took a slow sip of his drink, but you saw through him. He was stalling, rolling the words around in his head, figuring out how much to give away. Your heart picked up pace, watching the way his jaw worked, the way his fingers flexed.

Finally, he exhaled. “Yeah,” he admitted, voice quieter. “It was.”

You swallowed, lips parting, but before you could respond, he continued.

“I didn’t even remember how good it felt. Not until—” Bucky sighed, leaning back into your touch as if it steadied him.

“Until?” You urged him on, your nails dragging lightly against his scalp.

“Until I had you naked under me, wrapped around my fingers.” His eyes darkened, and his voice dipped lower, sending a shiver down your spine. “You were so wet and so… warm. When I—”

“I remember,” you cut him off, voice barely above a whisper, pressing your mouth to his shoulder to ground yourself.

And you did. You remembered the way he had frozen, realization crashing over him like a wave, the way his breath had hitched when he finally understood what it would feel like to be inside you. The memory sent a delicious shudder through you, and when you glanced down, you found his hand still on your leg, fingers tracing absentminded circles over your skin.

“So do I,” he admitted, his laugh coming out breathy, almost disbelieving. “Thought about it more times than I’d like to admit.”

You bit your lip, sliding your palm over his stomach, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. “You don’t have to just think. You can do it again,” you murmured. “Anytime. Anything you want, you can do it to me. You know that, right?”

His breath hitched, those piercing blue eyes locking onto yours, holding you captive. In that moment, you understood—he wasn’t letting you slip away. Every dodge, every joke, every attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere, he unraveled it effortlessly, guiding you right back to where he wanted you. "Why do you offer me so much?" His voice was low, edged with something unsteady. "Your body. Your trust. Why do you give yourself to me so freely?" The illusion of a lighthearted game shattered, the bourbon forgotten on the table, its amber warmth abandoned in favor of something far stronger—the charged air between you. It pulsed with the weight of everything you refused to admit, with the inevitability of what came next.

It felt like being caught in a storm’s eye, a vacuum where time stretched and condensed, where the world outside ceased to exist. There was only this moment, this man, and the unrelenting gravity of his presence. You could either surrender and give him the truth he was so keen to obtain, or wait for him to relent, to spare you, to step back and let you escape once more.

But you knew—God, you knew—he wouldn’t. His gaze was unwavering, his body coiled with the kind of patience that promised he could outlast you. He would outlast you. He had outlasted every single person in his life, why would you be any different? He wasn’t just waiting; he was chasing, methodical and unshakable.

And you? You were already lost. Because deep down, past all the resistance, you knew there was only one ending to this. You would give in. You would tell him what he wanted to hear.

Because how could you not?

Your chest tightened under the weight of his stare, each word peeling you open. "I want you to take it. To have me." The confession felt too vast, too exposed, but you forced yourself to continue. "You always hold back. Always deny yourself of everything good. I don’t want that for us. If you—if you don’t want this, it won’t be because I never gave you the choice."

His expression didn’t waver. “Is that the only reason?”

“I—” Your inhale was shaky, your eyes searching his.

“Do you only want this because you think I need something to hold on to?”

“No.” The word ripped from your throat, immediate, your head shaking, your voice cracking under the weight of it. “No, Bucky. That’s not… I don’t want to be some rehabilitation for you. I want to be with you. All of you.” 

Your fingers twisted into his shirt, clinging to the fabric like a lifeline, like letting go would unravel you completely. “You don’t understand… I chose you, even when you never asked to be chosen.” A breathless, humorless laugh escaped you, sharp and fragile all at once. “But I couldn’t help it. With you, it’s like I finally—” You exhaled shakily, searching for the words, for air, for him. “Like it’s finally right. It fits. We fit. It’s like I was always meant for this. Meant for you.”

The confession scraped against your ribs, raw and aching, and you blinked hard, forcing back the sting behind your eyes. “I’ve never felt like this. For anyone. Never trusted anyone enough to—to let myself be claimed, to be theirs” Your voice barely held, a whisper on the edge of breaking. “But with you, it just… happened. You looked at me and it was over. I want you to be the one I belong to.”

Bucky’s lips parted, his breath shallow, but his voice was firm. Certain. “Because you love me.”

The moment he said it, you felt it—the trap snapping shut around you with perfect precision. You had to hand it to him; he was a damn good interrogator. You hadn’t even suspected that this was where he was leading you. Your breath hitched, emotions rising too fast to control, clawing at your throat like something primal, something desperate. His hand was still on your ankle, grounding, waiting. But he let you move, sensing the shift, the way your body coiled like a spring, the way your lips trembled as you fought against the inevitable.

“You’re not being fair,” you choked out, voice cracking as you turned your face away from his unwavering gaze.

“I just want to hear it, doll.”

Your chest ached. You squeezed your eyes shut, fingers curling into the fabric of your own sweater like you could hold yourself together if you just squeezed hard enough. “You know why I can’t.”

“I actually don’t.”

“You’ll leave. It’ll be too much…” you whispered, the words barely more than a breath. “You’ll run. And I don’t want to lose you because of my stupid feelings.”

Silence stretched between you, thick, suffocating. The air felt electric, charged with everything you weren’t saying. When you finally dared to look at him, his expression was unreadable, something soft, something searching. And then, just the slightest tilt of his lips—sad, knowing.

“Doll…” His fingers trailed slowly up your calf, not teasing this time, but tethering. A lifeline. “I’m here.”

“Until when?” The question was a wound, raw and bleeding. The first tear slipped free before you could stop it. The second followed before you even realized it was there. Bucky’s grip faltered, his fingers tightening—then loosening—like the words had landed somewhere deep, somewhere fragile.

Then, he let out a rough, breathless laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Until you’re done with me.” His voice was quiet, resigned. Like he already knew the ending to this story before it ever happened. “Until you don’t love me anymore. Until you realize what a mess I am and find someone better.”

Your breath stuttered, your heart hammering against your ribs so hard it hurt. “There’s no one better. No one else.”

You didn’t push him away when he reached for you, cradling the back of your neck with steady, careful hands. His touch was warm, unshakable. The kiss that followed was a collision—of fear, of longing, of too many unspoken things. It was salty with tears, but it tasted sweeter than anything you’d ever known. Bucky cupped your face, thumbs chasing away the stubborn wetness on your cheeks, lips moving slow, deliberate, like he had something to prove to you. And you let him. You let him tilt your head back, let him drag a hand down the length of your throat, let yourself drown in the sensation of him.

He tasted like bourbon and longing and home, and you drank him in like he was the only thing keeping you alive. 

You couldn’t get enough.

Not when he pulled you onto his lap, not when he tangled a hand in your hair and tipped his head back against the couch, letting you take what you wanted—what you both wanted. Not when your kisses turned frantic, desperate, until your lips were bruised and swollen from the way you couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop.

“You ready to tell me now?” His voice was a rasp against your lips, breathless, hungry. His fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of your neck, his free hand dragging under your sweater, fingers mapping the heat of your skin. “I wanna hear it, sweetheart. Do you know how badly—” he pressed a kiss to your jaw, your throat, your shoulder, “—how badly I’ve wanted to hear it? Since that night at my apartment? You were crying for me, and I—”

He was unraveling. And so were you.

You barely had time to react before he moved, pressing you down against the rug, his hands burning paths down your thighs as he spread them open, pressing himself against you, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as he hovered above you.

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded. “You want me to take what I want, don’t you? You want me to claim you? This is it, sweetheart. This is what I want.”

Your breath caught. This version of him—raw, unfiltered, pleading—it stunned you into silence. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, his name barely more than a whimper on your lips as his mouth found your skin again, leaving bruises, leaving proof.

Your hands were trembling, your pulse a thunderous rhythm beneath your skin. Fear curled in your belly, a living thing, coiling tight around your ribs, squeezing your lungs. You had never been so afraid of words before, of the weight they carried, of the way they could change everything in an instant.

“C’mon, sweetheart, say it,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper against your lips. His hands gripped your waist, grounding himself in the reality of you, as if touch alone wasn’t enough. “I already know, doll. I just—I need to hear it.”

His voice was softer this time, but no less commanding, no less desperate. His eyes searched yours, stormy and endless, as if he were trying to commit you—this moment—to memory, afraid you might slip through his fingers like sand.

His breath hitched, fingers tightening ever so slightly, his forehead pressing against yours. “Give me something real,” he rasped, his voice thick, aching. “Let me hold onto it.”

“James—”

“Say it.” His voice cracked, a raw, broken thing, like he was shattering before your eyes. “Please, doll. I’m begging you.”

Your lungs burned, your heart a frantic drumbeat against your ribs, an erratic melody of terror and longing. Your throat closed around the words, refusing to let them go, but you knew—God, you knew—you couldn’t hold them in any longer. Not when he was looking at you like that. Like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

“I love you,” you finally breathed, the confession slipping from your lips like an exhale, fragile and trembling. 

The effect on him was instant, visceral, breathtaking.

A sharp inhale. A flicker of disbelief, of something breaking and rebuilding all at once in his expression. His hand tightened at the nape of your neck, his forehead falling to rest against yours as if the weight of your words had stolen his balance. His breath was uneven, shuddering against your lips, and for a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak, just held you there in the space between heartbeats.

His lips parted, but no words came out—not at first. His breath hitched, his fingers curling slightly against your skin like he was afraid to let go. Then, finally, in a voice so raw it nearly shattered you, he whispered, "Say it again."

“I love you.”

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

GOLDEN HOUR

PAIRING : jensen ackles x actress!reader

SUMMARY : jensen admits his adoration for reader during an interview at the boys season 3 premiere in paris. karen, who already knows of reader’s infatuation with jensen, overhears and plays matchmaker. and you two couldn’t be more grateful.

WARNINGS : age gap. strong language. crushes. flirting. love. lust. cheating. mentions of previous cheating. smut. unprotected p in v. rough sex. semi-public sex. creampie. praise kink. size kink. breeding kink.

A/N : this is my first jensen oneshot—yay! got the inspo from all the pics and videos from the paris premiere and he just looked scrum-deli-um-ptious. imo jensen deserves more attention from this premiere and i’m here to give it! i also made the two pictures to the right and i’m semi-proud of them, please don’t hate if they suck. hope y’all enjoy this!

Jensen stands in front of 'The Boys Prime Video' backdrop, posing for the countless cameras before him. He was solo, his wife choosing once again not to accompany him. The flashes would've blinded him if it weren’t for his sunglasses. It was his first time being in Paris for work, and he was ecstatic. He went from one backdrop to the next, making his way down the line.

His smile was wide and bright, fueled by nerves and excitement. Like a pro, he jumped from one news outlet to another. Jensen was enjoying the love the show was receiving, and he was thrilled to be a part of it. With each interview, he felt more confident and comfortable in his skin. It had been a while since his last premiere, and if he was being honest, he missed the attention.

"So, Jensen, how was it working with a new cast?" The interviewer asks before turning the microphone toward the star.

"You know, i-it's always nerve-wracking being the new guy. I starred on Supernatural for the last 15 years, so it's been a while since I've been 'the new guy' on a show. Everyone's been here since season one, and now Grandpa’s coming in!” He jokes, making the French man laugh. “No, but uh, everyone’s been incredibly welcoming, both cast and crew. I think they're all wonderful. There was never a dull moment, that’s for sure. We had a lot of fun."

"Is there any actor or actress you would've liked to work with this season?"

"Are you referring to actors in previous seasons or in general?"

"Anyone. Anyone in the world, who would you choose?"

Jensen's smile grows, and without hesitation, he answers, "Y/N Y/L/N."

"Ooo. Y/N Y/L/N, great choice. ‘Great actrice."

"The best! She’s extremely talented." He couldn't help but gush once he began speaking about you. "Her range is beyond anything I’ve ever seen. She can act in every genre, and what’s great about this show is that it pushes you out of your comfort zone, and I think she would have handled it like a boss. And I, for one, would have loved to see her in action. Not only does she have the skills, but I’ve watched interviews and promotions she's been a part of, and she's just—she's so hilarious and so sweet. I think she would've fit in perfectly."

The interviewer cocks an eyebrow and slyly accuses, "Sounds like you have a crush on Ms. Y/L/N."

"I mean...who doesn’t?" Jensen confesses. He had a major crush on you, and as silly as it was for a 43-year-old married man to have, he wasn’t ashamed. He chuckles, trying to suppress the blush from rising to his cheeks just thinking about you. "No, no. I, uh, I'm a huge fan of hers. I think she's incredible. I respect her work and her as a person. I'd be thrilled if I ever got the opportunity to work with—let alone meet her."

"Well, it's rumored she'll be ‘ere tonight."

Jay's eyes widen, and his smile falls. He wasn't expecting to hear that. He quickly skims through his brain, trying to remember if he saw any mention of you attending tonight’s premiere via your Instagram. No, he would’ve remembered. He would’ve been searching all over if you announced your attendance. His heart begins to race at the thought of seeing you tonight. Suddenly, he felt as if all eyes were on him. He forces a smile and tries to act aloof.

"Really? Well, I, uh, well, that's—wow. That's awesome." But his attempt fails. He was a stuttering mess. “Hope she enjoys the premiere.”

The man laughs, amused by Jensen's reaction. It was indeed true; You would be in the audience. He finishes his last few questions before moving on, trying not to let the possibility of seeing you distract him too much. Little did he know Karen Fukuhara heard everything. She smiles to herself and carries on with her interview.

The cast had left the blue “red” carpet and moved into the venue. Their teams escort them to a designated room where they wait for the audience to fill Le Grand Rex. Jensen talks with a few people near him before keeping to himself as his nerves climb. And not for the reason everyone thought. Is it true? Would Y/N be here? Would I be lucky enough to see her in the crowd? Questions flood his mind, keeping him occupied until Karen pulls him from his thoughts.

"Is it true?"

Jensen glances at his costar, furrowing his brows in confusion. "Is what true?"

“What you said about Y/N.”

“W-what? What are you talking about?” He tries to play it off, hoping to avoid the conversation.

“Oh, please. I overheard your interview. You like her!” She quietly accuses.

Blush rushes to his bearded cheeks. "’Course. She’s a great actress."

Karen shakes her head. "No, I mean like her like her."

Jensen rolls his eyes, trying to draw the attention away from the implication. "What are we in middle school?"

She giggles, then admits, "Well, she likes you too. Hell, she's obsessed with you! I swear half our conversations about this season revolved around you."

"Wait—you’ve talked about me?"

“More like her bringing you up every chance she got? Yeah, we’ve talked about you.”

He was stunned. Sure, he’d seen your interviews where you raved about your favorite show, Supernatural, and how in love you were with Dean, but he figured that was the extent of your adoration. He thought back to all the praise you gave to the show and the actors themselves, wishing he could’ve DMed you his appreciation but instead sparing himself an argument with his nosy wife, well aware his accounts weren’t safe from her. Maybe if he ran into you, he could vocalize his gratitude. He knew how much trouble he was getting into, especially after that interview but learning that you mirrored his infatuation made it worth it.

"You talking about Y/N's crush on Jensen?" Tomer joins.

Ackles's jaw drops from the shock of his other co-star's knowledge, too. He shakes his head, not believing the news. "You guys are screwing with me, right?"

"No."

"Not at all."

His mind begins to wander. What should he do with this information? Was this a sign to act on it? Would you even let him? Tomer watches as Jay's mind turns.

He smirks, only imagining what his friend was thinking. “Don’t forget that you’re married, my friend.”

“Tell that to my wife,” Jensen mutters under his breath, but loud enough, they hear.

Before they can question or comfort their friend, a crew member enters the room and takes Kripke, telling everyone else to “get ready.” Jay was so preoccupied with the thought of you that he hadn’t found the time to realize he would soon be facing a crowd of a thousand faces. His once confident demeanor had vanished. The thought of you liking Jensen should've given him that boost; However, between his starstruck state and the sea of fans, he was a nervous wreck.

The next thing he knows, they’re being ushered toward the front entrance of the auditorium and waiting to be introduced. His heart pounds, and he pushes you out of his mind. Suddenly, the doors open, and one by one, they walk down the aisle as Eric calls out their names in order, and fans scream over the speakers. Jensen was last in line, grateful he wasn’t first. At the steps, he’s handed a microphone and noticing Claudia’s lack of one, takes hers too. He graciously hands it to her as he takes the stage, immediately feeling the bright light beating down on him.

He smiles, interacting when necessary, and when the light allows him to, he scans the audience. He was in awe of the premiere’s turnout. Yet nothing prepares him when his eyes find yours. You’re in the front row, on his side of the theater of all places! His smile’s wide, heart thumping against his ribcage. You bite your lip as your eyes look him up and down, taking in the delicious sight. Seeing your not-so-subtle action, he winks at you.

Your heart, amongst other areas of your body, flutter. With your lips parted, you dramatically fan yourself, earning a smile from your celebrity crush. Jay glances elsewhere but can’t help the return of his eyes. You smile lovingly, overjoyed that he pays as much attention to you as you do to him. In all honesty, you hadn’t listened to the panel. You’re so captivated by his charming smile—hell, even the tiniest of movements, that you miss your friend’s answers.

Usually, you’d feel guilty, but not when it involves the love of your life as the center of your attention. You don’t even realize that the interview ends until everyone claps, snapping you out of your trance. Your hands join the applause before the stars step down the stairs to their reserved seating. The lights dim, and the first episode of the season begins.

The premiere ends, and the after-party begins. You couldn’t get Jensen out of your mind—as if it were different from any other day of your life. But this time, it is. This time, you have the opportunity to speak to him. Just thinking of it fills you with nerves. Would you actually talk to him? Would he even talk back? Your mind begins to race with questions until you conclude that you’d at least have a conversation with the man of your dreams. Who could that hurt?

You were so excited to see him. The longer you wait, the more anxious you become. The anticipation of seeing him again is all you can think about, even when you distract yourself by talking to others. Your eyes dart toward the door of Le Rex Club, and as if you have a sixth sense, the cast members walk in. Their presence elicited a roar across the guests, hooting and clapping for the stars. And that’s when you see him, walking in last once again.

With a grin, he scans the energetic crowd, refusing to admit he was looking for you. Finally, he finds your pretty eyes, and the room suddenly becomes empty. You were the only one he could see and the only one he wanted to. If it weren’t for others physically grabbing his attention, he would’ve made a beeline straight towards you. As he speaks with a few producers, Karen finds and gives you the warmest hug.

“Hey!”

“Hey! Congratulations! You were AMAZING.”

You pull away but stay close as the crowd grows louder. “Really? You think so?”

“Of course! Not many people can play a character without any lines,” you nudge her arm playfully. “That’s talent.”

“Awe, thank you, Y/N. That means so much.”

Jack comes over to greet you, pulling you into a side hug before introducing you to his girlfriend. Claudia wears the biggest smile on her face as she shakes your hand. Her giddiness was lost on you, but her confession of being “a huge fan” struck clarity. Fame was something you tried to forget. Sure, you loved acting, but it came with a price, and it wasn’t always an equal trade. Despite being in the spotlight, you refused to let it change who you are.

After some small talk, they left to mingle with others, leaving you alone with Karen. When she sees your eyes linger on Jensen, she smirks to herself.

“Do you need a napkin?”

“Huh? For what?”

“To wipe that drool off your lip,” She points to the corner of her mouth.

You swat her arm gently, but it doesn’t stop your blush. “Shut up! I am not drooling.”

“Might as well be. Could it be any more obvious that you want him?” She giggles.

“Please. He’s married.”

“Do you see his wife anywhere?”

Your eyes grow wide at your friend’s insinuation. You’ve known Karen for almost two years, and this was never something she’d condone. Ever. So why now? Why was this time different?

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She gets closer, speaking low enough for only your ears to hear. “No one knows this, but his wife cheats on him.” Your widened eyes grow wider as if it were possible. They wander to Jensen, and his eyes shift to yours. A smile brightens his handsome face, making you melt. How could anyone EVER cheat on him?! “She’s been doing it for years, and he pretends not to know.”

Directing your stare towards Karen, you demand, “How do you know all of this?”

“He got really drunk one night and confessed to me and a few other cast members,” She frowns with sorrow, then shakes her head, “He’s a great actor; He hides his pain well, but there’s days when we all see it.“

It would be a lie to say you were surprised. You’ve had your suspicions over the years, but there hadn’t been any solid evidence. The way they’d speak and act towards one another pointed to a deeper marital issue. Sure, some relationships were more teasing than others, i.e., the Reynolds. However, their body language suggests otherwise, and not what everyone excused it to be.

“And until today, I haven’t seen him interested in anyone else.”

You slowly nod, taking in the information. Despite the terrible news, you felt a rush of excitement from Karen's statement. Was it true? Was he interested in you? No, he couldn’t be.

“You’re lying. He isn’t—he can’t be.”

“Now, Y/N, why would I lie? And why’s it hard to believe?” She crosses her arms.

“I—I don’t know. He hasn’t even met me.”

“Well to be fair, you haven’t met him either.”

She got me there, you thought.

“God, Karen, what do I even say to him? “I love you, and I wanna have your babies. Please choose me, and we’ll raise our children as one big happy family.””

“Well, you better think of something quick ‘cause he’s coming over.” She hurriedly tells you before her eyes shift behind you. Plastering a huge smile on her face, she greets, “Hey, Jensen!”

“Hey!”

You turn around, and there he was, in all his glory. He was breathtaking. His perfectly trimmed beard complimented his gorgeously styled hair. You swallow hard as he stares down at you, a crooked smile on his beautiful face. Annnnddd cue the wetness.

“This is—“

“Y/N,” He extends his large hand, and you shake it, your skin tingling at his touch. “I’m a huge fan.”

Your eyes threaten to widen, but you force yourself to play it cool. With a smirk, you tease, “You took my line.”

He chuckles, then clears his throat, nodding. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

You lay your hand over your heart. “I’m a huge fan!”

“Feel better?”

“Much.”

You both stare into each other’s eyes, dazed and amazed.

“Well, I have to go. I‘ve gotta say hi to a few other people. I’ll catch up with you later, ‘kay?” She leans in and kisses your cheek. Before she pulls away, she whispers into your ear, “Get ‘em, tiger.”

Karen walks away, leaving you and Jensen alone. Your hearts race in the presence of one another.

“So, congrats on The Boys. Soldier Boy looks badass. ‘Can’t wait to see more of him.”

“Thanks. And trust me when I say you’ll definitely see more of him. More than I would’ve liked.“

“Oh?” You raise a brow, intrigued.

“Let’s just say I was exposed more in my 40s than I ever was at your age.”

Your eyes widen. “What? You have to tell me more!”

“Hey, man!” You and Jensen stare at the male who came over to disrupt. He grabs Jensen’s hand and pulls him into a bro hug. “Congratulations on Season 3. How’s it feel to be done shooting?”

“Uh, good, man. It was fun while it lasted, but I can’t wait for everyone to see it.”

“I heard you got traumatized on set.”

“Uh, yeah. ‘Shooting Herogasm.” Jensen looks toward you as he explains, “During an episode, there’s this massive orgy between supes and non-supes.”

“Ahh, I see.”

“That must’ve been something. I was just talking to Antony and—“

“That’s great, man. Listen, we’ll have to catch up another time. I was in the middle of a conversation.” Jay gestures your way.

“Oh, dude, my bad.” He shifts his attention to you, and his eyes widen. “Wait, you’re Y/N Y/L/N! Oh man, I’m a huge fan. Can I take a picture with y—“

“And we’re done.” Jensen pats the rude individual on the shoulder before turning him away. “Look, there’s Eric. Why don’t you talk to him.”

He lightly shoves the man in the direction of his boss, earning a grin from you. “Sicking him on Kripke?”

“I gotta get back at him somehow.”

“Right. For participating in Herogasm?”

He laughs, the crinkles around his eyes on display. “Not quite,” He shakes his head. Even in the dim lights, you can see his blush. “My, uh, ass is displayed for the world to see when I meet The Boys.”

Your heart pounds faster when you hear the news. I’m gonna see Jensen Ackles’s ass!

“You’re gonna break the internet.”

“Oh, God, don’t say that.” He groans.

“Trust me, I could’ve said a whole lot worse.”

“What? You have to tell me more!” He mocks.

“Shut up!”

You shove his bicep, but he doesn’t budge. He laughs with you, and your bodies gravitate closer. You realize your hand lingers on his muscle, and you can’t help but bite your lip. Even through his suit, you can feel how strong he is.

“Wow. You’re so toned.” He glances at your hand, and nervously, you remove it. “Sorry. They didn’t look that big in Supernatural.”

“I don’t know whether to be amazed or worried that you noticed the size difference of my arms.”

“No, I—I saw your Instagram post of you working out last year,“ And oh, how you watched that video on repeat. “I mean—I-I’m not a stalker or anything, I just—“

“I’m messing with you.” His deep chuckle rings in your ears as a blush rises to your already crimson cheeks. “But thanks. It’s nice to be complimented once in a while.”

“Don’t you get it at home?” It comes out of your mouth before you can stop it.

“Uh…not as much as I’d like.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, and a shimmer of sorrow crosses his face. As fast as it appears, it’s gone, and he changes the subject. “‘S fine. Anyway, there’s a story behind the muscles if you wanna hear.”

“‘Course!”

“Alright, so…”

You and Jensen began talking about anything and everything. The longer you conversed, the deeper you both fell in love with each other. You both clicked. It was natural. It was easy. It was meant to be. And anyone with half a brain could see it.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you when your conversation was constantly being interrupted. Jensen had to remind himself he was here for work, not pleasure. Yet, he couldn’t pull himself away from you to mingle with others like he was supposed to. And you, well, you were here to support your friends, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t make a new one. Without knowing the information Karen gave you tonight, you would’ve been more than pleased to just be his friend. That’s all you could ask for. Putting his looks and talent aside, you fell in love with his personality. In this industry, you never know if someone likes you for what you do or who you are, and you hope you can prove to Jensen the latter.

“Y/N!” You both look in the direction in which your name came from. A woman waves at you eagerly. “Hi!”

“Do you know her?”

You smile and give a short wave back. “Not at all.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere more private?”

The multicolored lights dance on his expecting countenance. “Please.”

“C’mon,” Jay’s hand hovers over the small of your back as he guides you toward the exit. “I know the perfect place.”

“The view is incredible,” You breathe as you look out the watchtower, watching the sunset over the city. “So beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,”

Your heart skips a beat, and your breathing stops. Had you heard him right? Had he called you beautiful? You turn around, stunned at his words. Your lips twitch, unsure whether to smile or frown. He stares at you with those forest-green eyes, making you internally squirm under his gaze. The sun’s warm glow shines upon his handsome face, and you’re in awe.

Just what you needed: the golden hour making him look more desirable than he already is. Your mouth parts to speak, but your brain doesn’t know what to say. Jensen takes slow steps toward you, and your heart races. He halts in front of you, and he’s dangerously close. He brings his hand up to your bare arm and lightly traces upwards. His soft touch leaves a trail of goosebumps on your hot skin. His gaze lowers to your parted lips as his hand cups your check.

His thumb swipes your bottom lip as he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widen, astonished by his question. “Y-you wanna kiss me?”

He chuckles. Resting his other hand on your lower back, he pulls your body to his. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to.”

His smile disappears as you gaze at him with your innocent eyes. You can’t trust your voice, so you nod instead. Despite your heels, you were still shorter than his tall figure. He moves his left hand behind your neck and leans forward. This was it, you thought. This is what you’ve longed for. And then it happens; his lips meet yours.

All of your nerves get thrown out the window as he kisses you. It was gentle yet firm. It wasn’t rushed or lustful. It was perfect. It was everything and more.

The kiss ends, but another quickly begins. You wrap your arms around Jensen’s neck, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, this time with a little more urgency. His beard pricks your face, but you ignore it as he bites your bottom lip. You open your mouth, and he takes the opportunity to shove his hot tongue inside. A moan erupts from your throat. You’d have been embarrassed if one hadn’t fallen from his, too.

Your tongues explore each other’s mouth, not bothering to fight for dominance. If it weren’t for your bodies forcing you away, you both would’ve forgotten you needed air. Your heart hammers against your ribcage while your chest rises and falls. Neither of you pulls away, your breaths mingling as your noses brush against one another. Despite both of your eyes being closed, you could feel the other’s grin.

After regaining your breath, you compliment, “God, that was so much better than I imagined.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about us before?”

“I told you I was a huge fan.”

“And how far has the fantasy gone?”

“Let’s just say I’m an all-in kinda girl.” You purr against his mouth.

“Well, sweetheart, lucky for you, kissing isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He utters, his gruff voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh, lucky me, huh? And what other skills are you holding out on?”

“Why don’t I show you instead?”

His hand runs past your exposed upper back until it reaches the curve of your ass. You press your thighs together, feeling your wetness soak your lace underwear. He gently squeezes your plump derrière before connecting your lips again. This time, they were pecks, and they left you craving more. However, your slightly-corrupt moral compass reminds you of the elephant in the room: his wife.

“Wait…” You press your hand to his chest, pushing him back gently.

He steps back, concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong? Am I going too fast for you?”

“No, no. That’s not it. I just—your wife. We talked about everything else but her.”

He sighs and adds more distance between you, shaking his head. “She…she doesn’t matter.”

You hesitate but confess, “Look, I know your wife cheated on you. It’s horrible, and I’m so sorry that happened. I can’t even imagine how you feel, and I sure as hell can’t understand how she could ever cheat on you. You’re everything and more! But I don’t want to be someone you use to get back at her. I know my worth, and as much as I love y—like you, I refuse to be someone you regret later.”

His eyes perk up, and his hands reach your arms, pulling you into his warm body. “You love me?”

“Jensen! I’m being serious!”

“So am I,” his eyes bore into yours. “Do you love me?”

“I’ve always loved you.”

His lips crash onto yours, and you’re swept off your feet. Without hesitation, you kiss him with as much passion as he gives you.

He pulls away, assuring you, “I would never use you, especially to settle a score with that witch. I know the arrangement she and I have is…complicated and untraditional, and that’s something I’m gonna take care of after tonight, but meeting you—being with you is something I’ll never regret. I love you more than words can describe. So let me prove to you how much I want you, how much I need you.”

His words touch your fragile heart. You weren’t expecting him to admit what he did. If you weren’t so horned up, you’d cry. He loves me, you mentally exclaim. And you’d be damned if you refused to consummate the love you felt for each other right here, right now. You glide your hand to the front of his suit and unbutton his jacket.

His light-hearted chuckle warms your soul. “I take that as a yes?”

“Take it as a ‘Hell, yes.’”

Without wasting a beat, his mouth smashes against yours. His lips are intoxicating, but you aren’t upset when he moves them to your neck. As if he’s kissed you there before, he instantly attaches to your sweet spot. Your eyes shut as he harshly sucks your skin. You whine as the stinging sensation physically hurts, but you love it anyway. His lips move lower, marking your neck in various places, his bread tickling your sensitive skin.

Your hands run up his chest, grasping the peaked lapels near his collarbone and pushing his suit past his broad shoulders. It drops to the ground before Jensen backs you up against the wall. Your polished fingertips unbutton his dress shirt before flattening your palms against his hot chest. They slowly slide down his abdomen and stop at the top of his pants. His large hand slips through your dress’s slit, straight to your ass.

A moan erupts from your throat as you feel his bulge press against your clit. The pool between your thighs threatens to overflow. As if he read your thoughts, his hand slides inside your panties. His fingers brush over your sensitive nub and through your soaked folds. Desperate for more, your body arches into his touch. He teases you, pulling away from your littered neck to watch your face scrunch in agony.

After enough torment, he pries your drenched underwear down your legs, and you kick them off. His fingertips run from your outer to your inner thighs, and your breath hitches once they circle your slick entrance. You reposition your hands, one on either side of his toned shoulders. Giving him room to work with, your stance widens. His lips wear a proud smirk, seeing and feeling how ready you are for him. Moving the front of your silk dress out of his way, he holds the material near your hip, and your heart races faster.

Finally, his finger slides into your warm cunt. You sigh in contentment, feeling his digit in your holiest of places. His hand moves slowly, enjoying third base. Small moans fall from your pretty lips as his speed gradually quickens. When he sees your baseline of comfort, he adds another finger, drawing a loud gasp from your agape mouth.

His two digits alone stretch you deliciously. He slows his pace so you can get used to his thick fingers, and you can’t help but whine. Your neediness grinds your hips against his hand, wanting more than girth. He took your not-so-subtle hint and gave you what you asked for. And in return, you were a moaning mess.

You never thought you’d get this far with him, that it would only happen in your dreams but never in reality. Yet, here you were, squirming beneath his touch, being absolutely violated by his unholy fingers. Your head falls back against the wall as he curls his digits, hitting your G-spot perfectly. The pit in your stomach tightens, and you realize it isn’t much longer before it uncoils. You bunch his black shirt in your hands once his thumb applies heavy pressure to your clit.

Your moans grew louder, and you couldn’t stop them. Jensen’s left-hand pounds your aching pussy without mercy, and you feel like you’re in Heaven. His knuckles harshly kiss between your thighs and you revel in the promise of bruises. You glance in between your bodies and watch his hand pump in and out of you. The pleasure had built fast, and you were losing yourself faster. Your walls clench around his thick fingers, feeling your orgasm approach quickly.

“Fuck, Jay, I’m gonna—”

And before you can finish your sentence, you finish all over his hand. You scream into his chest as your climax washes over you. He works you through your high, drawing another orgasm seconds after the first. Your legs give out from under you, and his strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you upright. His hand stills inside you, giving you a chance to catch your breath.

After a few minutes, you regain the strength and stand on your own. Jensen finally withdraws his hand from your dripping cunt. He brings it to his mouth, and you see your juices coat his wedding ring. It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did, but something about coming undone on the symbol of his and his wife’s “eternal love and commitment” made you feel wrong in the best ways. His lips wrap around his digits, sucking your cum clean.

“Mmm,” the handsome man hums. “You taste as good as you look.”

His words make your pussy throb, and all you want left is confined behind his designer pants. You smooth his shirt from where you wrinkled it before and swiftly relieve his restraints. He sighs in gratitude when you reach your hand inside his pants and gently rub his bulge.

“You gonna let me taste you now?”

“Maybe next time, sweetheart. Right now, I just wanna be hip deep inside your guts.”

With one hand, he lowers his pants and boxers enough to free his aching member. It was long and thick, more than you ever imagined. The tip was a suffocating red and glistening with pre-cum. Your mouth salivated at the delicious sight, jealous of your awaiting vagina. His hand touches the back of your thigh, sliding it toward the back of your knee before pulling it towards his hip. His unoccupied hand wraps around his cock and swipes the tip along your wet folds. He presses it against your bundle of nerves, eliciting a whimper from your impatient self.

Before you verbally hurry him, he shoves his member into your entrance. Your back arches off the wall, and you hiss in discomfort. He was bigger than he looked, and your body knew you’d be feeling him for days after. Your hands wrap around his neck, holding on as he attempts to fit his entire length in your small hole. It isn’t long before Jensen’s thrusts go deeper as your walls adapt to his size.

“Fuck, princess. You’re so tight.” He wraps his arm around your back, keeping you in place. “Not used to a man this size, are you?”

“N-no.”

“That’s gonna change. You’re mine now, sweetheart. And I ain’t never letting you go.”

Your dominant hand grabs his hair, running your fingers through it before tugging at the long ends, not giving two fucks if it messes up the style. The pain quickly turns into pleasure, and your moans reflect it. His rhythm was hard and fast, just how you needed it. The squelching noise from his dick slapping against your wet pussy joined your unholy moans. The sounds fill the air, and neither of you cares who hears. Danneel herself couldn’t stop you two.

His lips attack the area where your shoulder and neck meet, sucking, licking, and biting. You fight to keep your right leg wrapped around his waist, but the pleasure between your legs is becoming too much to handle, making it feel heavy. With every ‘bottoms out’ thrust, he bruises your cervix, and you feel like you're gonna die the most blissful death. The familiar coil in your belly returns, and you continue your shouts of praise. His drive gets sloppy, and you know he’s as close as you.

“Cum in me,” you choke out. “I wanna have the honor of your babies.”

Part of you was scared after you uttered your confession. You knew Jensen was done having kids. Yet the other part didn’t care: You wanted his seed. You craved it.

And you were shocked at his response, “Sweetheart, the honor will be all mine.”

That was all you needed to hear before you gushed on his hard dick. He follows immediately after you, spraying his promise inside its new home for the next 9 months. Your leg slides off his hip, and he leans against you. A layer of sweat coats your entangled bodies, proof of the vigorous love you made. Your panting mixes with his as you each come down from your highs.

Your mind swirls, overcome with ecstasy. You just had sex with Jensen, and Jensen just had sex with you. Not only did you each have sex with your crush, but it was the BEST sex you’ve ever had. He slowly pulls out, and you whimper from the loss. The instant his cock leaves you, your mixed juices drip down your leg.

You press your thighs together, refusing to let any more escape. Jay lets go of you and tucks himself back in before kneeling. Your hooded eyes gaze after him. He grabs your discarded underwear and slides it up your shaky legs. The fabric works as a dam, for now, at least. He turns around and pulls his suit jacket over, grabbing the grey handkerchief from its pocket. You move your gown away, allowing him to clean up the excess cum from your skin.

“Thank you,” You breathe.

He stands, taking you in his arms before giving you a small kiss on your temple. “Of course, princess.”

“I don’t want to go back,” You admit as you button his dress shirt.

“So let’s go to my hotel room instead.”

“Really?” Your face perks up before furrowing with concern. “But don’t you have to be here? It’s your premiere, after all.”

“I’d rather take this party somewhere more private. And besides, I’m sure they’re all too drunk to notice I’m not there.”

You giggle at his silly remark before capturing his lips with your own. “Lead the way.”

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO JAYS-BONNIE-ON-THE-SIDE

: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform

*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.

[litnerdwrites]

There's no indication that anybody from Velaris is, or has the ability to become, a soldier for the night court. The only soldiers we see are darkbriners and Illyrians. Velaris has also been warded two times over to keep it hidden (even though nobody knew it existed anyway). There's also no indication that either Illyria or THC have access to the library in Velaris, or have any similar resourced (even though they are the only places that provide the NC soldiers, and, by the IC's own admission, rife with misogyny and abuse towards woman and children).

The ones who suffered under Amarantha's reign were Illyria and the Hewn City. Exclusively. The ones who fight to protect the Night Court are Illyria and The Hewn City. Exclusively. The ones who were orphaned and widowed by war (up until Velaris was attacked in ACOMAF for the FIRST TIME IN 5000 YEARS (which we can assume was when it was built)) was Illyria and The Hewn City. Exclusively.

Velaris has no slums. The Illyrians live in tents.

Velaris was by no means poor, its people mostly cared for, the buildings and streets well kept. My sister, it seemed, had managed to find the only thing relatively close to a slum. (ACOFAS Chapter 4)

And yet my sister managed to find the seediest, most miserable taverns in Velaris (ACOFAS Chapter 12)

Rhysand talked to the 'governors of the Palaces' and getting them to refuse service to the people from the Court of Nightmares.

“Starting with meeting with the governors of the Palaces and getting them to agree never to serve, shelter, or entertain Keir or anyone from the Court of Nightmares.” (ACOWAR Chapter 27)

“They have been sending out the word to every business owner in the city,” Rhys went on, “every restaurant and shop and venue. So Keir and his ilk may come here … But they will not find it a welcoming place. Or one where they can even procure lodgings.” (ACOWAR Chapter 27)

Velaris is built and protected on the blood of others. One of the only issues that they faced were a lack spices, and probably other imports, due to stopping trade for fifty years.

“It’s just … so lovely to have such spices available again—now that … that things are better.” (ACOMAF Chapter 29)

After it was all over, and Amarantha was dead, they could have reached out to other courts, offered aid and helped rebuild. Or, at minimum, they could've offered Illyria and The Hewn City, aid. They could've helped them recover. But they didn't.

Velaris protected by the blood and sacrifices of Illyria and the Hewn City. What exactly have the IC, or the people of Velaris done in exchange? Deny them service and lodging? Did nobody contest this? At all? Did nobody, in this entire city (a place that's supposed to be the only 'good' in the Nc) ever protest? Or even ask about the conditions in either Illyria or the HC?

I know that there was something similar happening in the winter court, with Viviane protecting a small city near the border, but in that case, Viviane had to stay there to keep whatever magic shielded it strong, whereas in Velaris, the city was already a secret, and shielded, so I'm still not following why he had to shield it again. Also, the city she protected took in any outsiders that made it there, and the wards on Velaris, actively encouraged people away from the city.

And in the aftermaths, there is no reason to think that Viviane, or the people of that city didn't extend their help in rebuilding The Winter Court to others who had not been as lucky. Whereas we know for a fact that neither the IC or the people/governors of Velaris didn't extend help. Instead, they agreed to help segregate the HC residents even more.

So the argument that 'Velaris is the only good place, because the The Court of Nightmares is made of monsters and Illyrians refuse to change' is bs. At this point, the only change either should make is letting the IC, and Velaris fend for themselves during the next war. There is no reason for them to lose their loved ones and spill their own blood for the people of a city that will refuse them service and lodging just because of where they're from, at the encouragement and behest of their shared monarch.

Remind me again, how and why that stupid bat should be high king? He can't even govern his own territory.

[serickswrites]

Hold Back the River

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, water boarding, cruel whumper, self sacrifice, defiant whumpee, strangulation, unclear character status

"Caretaker, no matter what happens don't cry. If you cry they will hurt you. I can't let that happen."

Whumpee had said that hours ago when they had struck up a deal with Whumper that would keep Caretaker physically unharmed. Whumper had agreed enthusiastically on the condition that Caretaker not cry or else the bargain was null and void. Caretaker had tried to voice their protest, but Whumpee spoke over them, agreeing. Whumpee didn't want anything to happen to Caretaker.

But as they watched Whumper move from various methods of torture, leaving Whumpee weak and in pain, Caretaker felt they were fighting to hold back the river of tears that was threatening to overwhelm them. But they couldn't cry. Whumpee had asked them not to.

"Now, Whumpee," Whumper drawled as they tipped over the chair they had lashed Whumpee to, "you have done so well. You haven't begged me to stop once."

"You call this torture? I've had so much worse," Whumpee shot back weakly from the ground. Caretaker could see Whumpee was trembling. But they didn't let on that they were suffering. Caretaker knew Whumpee had to be suffering.

Whumper frowned. "I highly doubt that. Needless to say, I'm going to modify our bargain."

"So not only are you a shitty torturer, you can't even your own bargains. How disgraceful," Whumpee said as they glared up at Whumper. But Caretaker knew better. Caretaker knew that Whumpee was now very afraid.

"No. I'm making you a better bargain, Whumpee. I still won't hurt Caretaker. I keep my word. No, I'm going to make you a bargain that benefits you."

"I'm listening," Whumpee said carefully.

"In all my years working on people, I have never seen anyone not break under this next method. I doubt you will be the one to not break, before you get any ideas. You just have to last five minutes. Five whole minutes without begging. If you do that, I'll let both of you go."

"Deal."

Caretaker's heart was pounding. What did Whumper want to do to Whumpee? They opened their mouth to protest, but Whumper spoke again. "I'm going to give you three tries, Whumpee. Three tries to make it to five minutes. If you make it to five, you're free to go."

"Just get it over with, Whumper, I want to go home. I'm sure Caretaker does, too."

Whumper tossed a towel over Whumpee's face and re-angled the chair. Caretaker's mouth went dry as they realized Whumper planned to waterboard Whumpee. There was no way Whumpee would make it to five minutes.

Whumper grabbed a hose and aimed it at Whumpee's face. "Oh, and Whumpee? If you don't make it to five minutes, I'm going to keep you here until your body gives out. So, give it your best shot. I doubt you'll even last two minutes."

And they turned the water on.

Whumpee sputtered and choked as the water blasted their face. Caretaker strained against their own restraints trying to get to Whumpee. "PLEASE! DON'T YOU'RE KILLING THEM!" Caretaker screamed.

"See how they beg for you, Whumpee? Don't worry, I won't count their begging against you. Thirty seconds now, how are you feeling?"

Whumpee choked and coughed. "Stop," they rasped at last.

Whumper grinned as they turned off the water. "One try down. Total failure on your part. You didn't even make it a minute. I'll let you catch your breath."

Caretaker could see Whumpee's chest heaving as they struggled to breathe under the wet towel. "Whumpee, Whumpee. Say something! Please!"

"'m fine, Careta'er," Whumpee mumbled.

"If you have enough breath to speak, we can begin again." Whumper said as they turned the hose back on.

Whumpee lasted two minutes that time. Their whole body was shaking and they were sobbing as the water was turned off. Hearing Whumpee's cries of pain and terror made Caretaker's eyes well up once more. But they couldn't cry. They had to stay strong for Whumpee. Whumpee had bargained for their safety. They couldn't let that be in vain.

"Two minutes, not bad, Whumpee. Not bad." Whumper stared down at Whumpee with a maniacal glint in their eye. "But still not close enough to five. I'm going to enjoy destroying your body over these next few weeks. Maybe I'll still let Caretaker go when your body gives out. Maybe I'll keep them and force them to watch you to decay. Who knows?"

Whumpee made a low moan in their throat as Whumper spoke. The sound broke Caretaker's heart. Whumpee was fighting against impossible odds for their life. Whumper was beyond cruel.

"Ok, Whumpee, final attempt. Make it a good one. Or not," Whumper smirked as they turned the water back on.

Whumpee sputtered and choked, but they didn't speak. Caretaker could see their clenched fists shaking. But as the first minute went by, Whumpee held strong. Then the second minute went by and Whumpee still didn't speak.

After the third minute, Caretaker began to hope. Whumpee could do this. They would both be free. And then they could take care of Whumpee. They owed their life to Whumpee and they would spend the rest of their life repaying Whumpee.

"Four minutes now, Whumpee, you're doing impressively. Honestly, this is the longest I've seen anyone make it. But I doubt you will make it to five."

Whumpee's whole body began to shake at Whumper's words. But still, they didn't cry out. They continued to cough and choke, their breathing growing more and more ragged.

Whumper frowned. "You have twenty seconds to go, Whumpee. Remember not only your freedom, but Caretaker's freedom rides on this. You'll be letting them down any moment now."

Caretaker's heart fluttered in their chest. Hope built until they felt they couldn't contain it anymore. Whumpee was going to do it. They would both be free. Whumper wouldn't kill Whumpee today.

"Five.....four.....three.....two.....one. Impress--"

"For the love of God, please!" Whumpee cried out at last.

Whumper smirked as they turned off the water. "Congratulations, Whumpee. You survived five whole minutes of waterboarding."

Whumpee didn't say anything as they retched and coughed. And though Caretaker knew they should feel elated, Whumper's smirk and strangely happy demeanor had their blood running cold.

Whumper pulled back the towel off Whumpee's face. They knelt close and stared down into Whumpee's terror filled eyes. "Too bad you won't get to tell anyone what it was like." Whumper grabbed by the neck and began to strangle Whumpee.

"STOP! YOU'RE KILLING THEM! YOU SAID YOU WOULD FREE BOTH OF US!" Caretaker screamed as they watched Whumpee struggle weakly beneath Whumper. Whumpee's eyes were wide with fear, their mouth opening and closing as they desperately begged for air.

"I did say I will free both of you. And I will. I just never said if they would be alive when they were freed."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

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@pepeniascat

[brightvelvet]

I'm going through season 1 of Rings of Power again before I start watching season 2. There's so much to talk about, but what I want to talk about here is Halbrand. Specifically, Halbrand and what he meant to Galadriel. **NOT WRITTEN WITH HALADRIEL IN MIND**.

For one, looking at interactions, these two don't feel like friends. There's no casual exchange of friendly words or touches. Galadriel looks at Halbrand and sees so many things. He's rough around the edges and wary, handsome if grody, and too clever. His goodness wasn't apparent from the get-go, and it appeals so well to Galadriel's own seeming struggle with darkness. They're equals, but Galadriel's watching Halbrand to see what he does as much as he's evaluating her.

Galadriel wasn't being wise or powerful when she kept coming back to Halbrand and his potential royal bloodline. To be clear, she doesn't trust anyone. She can only go to him because he won't care enough to use her and he's too kind to say no. Most importantly, she recognizes his type, someone she doesn't want to leave by their lonesome. Maybe it was selfish of her, to keep dragging Halbrand into her journey, but I don't think so. Halbrand was a cracked reflection of her flaws and strengths, and so she treats him not like any friend or ally. She treats him like he's cut from the same cloth as her, like he's a mirror of herself. She pushed him like she wished someone would push her. Unfortunately, we know that Halbrand was incredibly receptive to this.

For two, Halbrand's reciprocation to her actions just enflames their strange, intimate dynamic. Galadriel pushes hard, asking more and more of Halbrand and it seems harsh from the outside. Yet Halbrand stays with her step by step, taking in her commands and demands. Galadriel pushes so much of her own expectations on him and when she thinks of him the words -thank you- must surface. She realizes how tired she is of carrying everyone's expectations alone. Her gratefulness and guilt for him sharing her burden are what finally manifest Halbrand as that mythical King in her mind. Not his silver tongue or Southland's crest. They speak the same language, 'favors' as a weak cover for the fact that they are too loyal to ever refuse the other. She meets him at the bow of the ship and acknowledges this attachment. It becomes something she holds close to her chest in the absence of anything else. Not love, but some type of dream fantasy/fulfillment where Galadriel doesn't have to fight alone.

For three, Galadriel watches Halbrand fight the orcs and it cements something in place. Galadriel appreciated Halbrand before, was grateful and saw good qualities, but here we see that she genuinely doesn't want to let him go. She was never interested in redeeming his bloodline, not really. The 'bloodline right' was to convince other people of her cause and his glory. She never needed a material reason to want better for him. But now it sets a line between them. He was her equal when he was a low man but now he is a King and he has other obligations. It threatens to drag him from her, and I mean drag because he's demonstrated on a few occasions that he's just as attached, and she's conflicted. Maybe some part of her wants to grab him and run. It's not simple, what she feels for him. It's not simple what his person does for her. And the thing is, she knows what the correct course of action is. He looks noble, acts noble, and hundreds of Southlanders need him. He would be the King they were Promised. So she begins to let him go in her mind, loosen her dream from her heart, because she won't keep him. He'll become one of her ideals (like Elrond, like her husband, like her brother) and she'll remember their time together as bittersweet.

In the end, Sauron grows impatient of Halbrand.

Her dream dies when Halbrand eventually asks for the one thing Galadriel wouldn't give.

Halbrand himself dies a dishonorable, screaming death. His pupils shrink to slits, his eyes shot through with red. His teeth become ungainly and sharp. His skin turns grey and darkens with visible veins.

Galadriel turns her blade against him.

She'd looked up to him on his mortal, Kingly pedestal. She'd envied him, been so proud, and wanted to steal him away. And in the wake of his utter betrayal, she has to try and think past the flames.

Halbrand's dead, even if he never existed in the first place. She can't mourn him, for so many reasons, and she must immediately get ready for battle because her massive fuck-up could cost the lives of everyone she loves.

Halbrand's ghost will haunt her though, and I'm sure not just in the form of her worst nightmare come to life.

[jd-loves-fiction]

Requesting a Jade Leech thing where the reader and Jade have been broken up with, but he’s a manipulative bastard and fully intends on charming them back. Get as creative as you want with the prompt, I just wanna see him being all scheming lmao

(I’ve had “bad idea right?” stuck in my head on loop)

🌑I'm gonna make this a bit more comedic, hope you like it :))

𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞

Jade seemed strangely unaffected when you told him you wanted to break up, accepting it easily with an oddly peaceful smile on his face. Just what is he up to?

You tried to steer clear of him for a while, in fear of what he might be scheming as well as for your own emotional stability, but he always just seemed to be there. 

Studying in the library? There he is, just standing around suspiciously, looking as effortlessly beautiful as always.

Enjoying a snack at the lounge? He’s the only one who brings it to you everytime, despite how many other workers there are, flashing a soft, gentlemanly smile and wishing you ‘bon appétit’ in a sugar sweet tone.

Talking to a cute underclassman stuttering through his attempt at asking for your number? Suddenly he seizes up like he’s being shocked and makes up some sorry excuse to run off in the other direction. When you turn around, there he is, smiling innocently and waving at you from where he stands – no doubt having a hand in what just happened.

You quickly started to understand why he looked so unbothered when you were breaking up with him – that was his scheming face, already thinking up ways of driving you back to his arms.

Loneliness won't be what does it. You’re stubborn, damn it! And the more he tries the more you want to see how far he’s willing to take this little game. It shows effort, at least, it’s just a shame he seems so hellbent on making you give in instead of having an adult conversation. 

So you play his game. Jade is a jealous man – nothing makes him spring into action like envy, this you know for certain. Next time you pass by the lounge to study, you make sure to sit at the bar and never acknowledge him, instead making loud conversation with Floyd about… whatever it is he’s rambling about, though he seems to be in a happy mood which is good for you.

He talks so much at you that it’s barely a conversation, more like a sermon of some kind – especially so given his passionate tone, Though you know Jade pays little mind to those details while he’s boiling with jealousy behind the bar. And to anyone watching you two it sure looks like you’ve moved on from Jade and onto his brother.

You leave the lounge that day exhausted but pleased, knowing you’ve successfully riled Jade up more than he did you. Maybe this’ll be enough for him to let you move on… but then again… do you want to move on?

Caught up in your conflicting thoughts you fail to hear him approach until he’s breathing down your neck. Startling, your back bumps against a nearby wall as you quickly turn around, seeing Jade right in front of you with a strangely neutral expression on his pretty face.

“...Jade?” You try to sound casual, but you’re sure the fright seeps into your tone regardless of your efforts.

He calls your name softly in turn, a troubled look crossing his face for a moment, “Had a fun time listening to Floyd prattle?”

Lips twisting in indignation, you righten your posture, “Very much so! He's a surprisingly good listener – compared to a certain brother of his.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.” You assure him disingenuously, arms crossed petulantly. Jade watches you silently for a moment, a familiar look of longing in his eyes – forming a tightness in your chest, before he sighs heavily. For a moment you think he might finally be honest with you, open up about how he truly feels and vow to be better – it’s all it’d take for you to take him back. But of course, it can't be that easy to change such a man.

For now, he settles for leaning in close, one hand against the wall behind you and taking a lock of hair between his fingers before bringing it to his lips. You hold in an undignified squeal.

“Just don't have too much fun with him. We both know he could never compare.”

You scoff, “I think you’ve been watching too many romance movies. You seem to be getting slightly delusional.” Shouldering past him you walk away without looking back to see his thoughtful expression. Not that you’d know what it means or care! Hmph!

If only you could both just talk to each other,  there’d be no need for these silly games. Though they sure are fun…

[someone1348]

It was long overdue...its time; I'm doing a squid games fic! I'm scared, but I'm posting it anyway! I've wanted to write for it for a while now, I just never had ideas or motivation! There's already so many great squid games writers, and I just am nervous!

Anyway!

The people in this: Ler!Jung-Bae, Lee!Dae-ho (naturally, I had to do them first!)

Tw: Anxiety, a little cursing, regardless this is a tickle fic, so if you don't like it, please keep scrolling! Thank you! :]

Also, squid games season 2 spoilers, so if you haven't watched it, I'd recommend watching it first!

With that being said enjoy!! <3

____________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

Such a ticklish marine

They had just finished the six-legged pentathlon. Spirits were high for about five seconds before they heard the gunshots again from the other side of the room. Dae-ho squirmed back again, covering his ears. Heart racing as Jung-Bae put a hand to his shoulder. It was almost like it was second nature. Dae-ho definitely showed his love through physical touch, and Jung-Bae did, too, so it just worked. They mirrored each other perfectly. The older of the two really took Dae-ho in, especially after he found out he was also an ex-marine. The bond of marines is unbreakable, but with how big Jung-Bae's heart is, he saw Dae-ho like the son he never had. Even if he doesn't admit it out loud, his actions show everything.

So when he's freaking out, covering his ears, fidgeting, the whole nine yards, he clocked his ptsd pretty fast. It made his heart ache a little for the poor boy. He wanted to, no, needed to do something to help him out. Jung-Bae took a deep breath and walked behind him as they entered the main room. Several teams who made it already sitting on one of the bunks groupped together, naturally. They did the same, sitting down waiting now for dinner to be served. Dae-ho was fidgeting again with his hands, scanning the room as some of the teams gave their team ugly stares. Jung-Bae placed a gentle hand to his knee for support, to try and ground him so he knows that he's not alone. Dae-ho's shoulders jumped a little at the impact but relaxed when he realized it was just Jung-Bae.

"Don't worry about them... they're just greedy assholes. We won't let anything happen to you or anyone on our team." Jung-Bae said with a determined smile as Dae-ho nodded.

"Sir, yes, sir!" Dae-ho replied out of instinct as Jung-Bae giggled gently at this.

"Atta boy!" He gently squeezed Dae-ho's knee as his hearty laughter grew. Without having time to hold back a reaction, Dae-ho squeaked quietly, but it definitely caught Jung-Bae's attention. Even through his laughter, he definitely heard that correctly. Blinking gently, Jung-Bae looked up at the boy with curiosity. Dae-ho's eyes widened. He tried to keep a poker face, like nothing happened, but he was really bad at that. Jung-Bae and everyone around him could see right through him.

"Dae-ho...?" Jung-Bae said a slight tease in his voice.

Dae-ho gulped gently and blinked "Yes...Sir...?"

The nervous reaction sent Jung-Bae's smile into a wicked smirk. He scooted closer to the already anxious marine. Now his heart was racing again, not out of fear, though. It moved quickly knowing what was potentially about to happen. He has four older sisters. He knows a 'I'm gonna tickle you' look when he sees one!

"Don't tell me, you, a strong, brave, ex-marine is ticklish?" He teased him, obviously not talking down to him. Dae-ho knew this and was thankful that he didn't make fun of him for it. It was normal, nothing to be ashamed about. Dae-ho took a deep breath, not knowing how to respond. Jung-Bae just giggled.

"This is gold!" He seemed happier than ever at this newfound information. Was...was that it? Was he really not going to get tickled? Dae-ho was overthinking it before the gaurds called everyone to grab dinner. Snapping out of his thoughts, they all got in line to get their portion of the meals. It was barely anything. Every day, there was less. They did that on purpose, but hey, at least they were getting something to eat.

After getting his tin and water, Dae-ho sat back down in the same spot. Jung-Bae, however, moved up a step to sit next to Dae-ho. The younger looked at the older with wider eyes than normal. Jung-Bae didn't say anything he just opened his tin and started eating.

"What did you get?" The question made Dae-ho blink before he opened his tin.

"Um...the same thing as you, we all get the same thing, sir," he said matter-of-factly. Which again made Jung-Bae giggle. This man was just always full of laughter, even in a situation like this. Something that made Dae-ho admire him even further. The conversation fell silent again as they kept eating. Jung-Bae talking to Gi-Hun and the others before turning back to Dae-ho.

"So...where are you most ticklish?" He asked teasingly and excitedly.

Dae-ho nearly choked on his rice at the question. Coughing a little before regaining his senses, Jung-Bae laughed.

"You okay, soldier?"

Dae-ho nodded quickly. The older patted his shoulder again happily. Jung-Bae was doing all of this on purpose. Sure, he wanted to know this information, but he wanted to help, mostly. He thought that maybe tickling him could help get him distracted enough to calm his anxiety. It worked on Gi-Hun whenever he had nightmares as kids, so maybe it'll help Dae-ho, too. He needed to try regardless. If it doesn't work, he'll try something else. Jung-Bae smirked and went back to teasing.

"If you won't talk, that's fine, I'll figure it out one way or another," he hummed gently, running a hand down his spine. Dae-ho arched gently out of instinct and smiled. Good a smile, that's a start. He's not uncomfortable. That's all he wanted to make sure of first before he could do anything.

Once dinner was completed, Jung-Bae finally put his plan into action. Dae-ho tried to move away to throw his tin away, but Jung-Bae pulled him back.

"Ah ah ah... you can do that later! I wanna see what you can do, boy! You've impressed me a lot as of recently. Let's keep that streak up, sha'll we?" He hummed as Dae-ho raised an eyebrow.

"I'm honored, sir, but I'm not exactly following..." He said honestly as Jung-Bae's smirk returned.

"Don't laugh~" he teased. Without warning, he used both hands to gently squeeze at Dae-ho's sides. A loud shriek rang through the place, followed by laughter and Dae-ho rolling over, trying to escape him. If he started with any other spot, he would've been able to hold it in, but Jung-Bae had to get his worst spot first! On a total guess too! Not fair!

Jung-Bae giggled with him. "You didn't even last a second! Such a ticklish marine~" he teased again, stopping for a second so Dae-ho could catch his breath and sit up.

"That wasn't fair! I could've done better if you didn't go for-" he inhaled and bit his lip as Jung-Bae tickled his neck in retaliation for the attitude. This was so fun for him now.

"Ohhhh, there we go! You're lastly relatively well. Let's see how you pair up against two spots at once!" He cheered before using his other hand to skitter gently across his ribs. Dae-ho squirmed a little but kept his laughter back as best as he could.

"You can do it, Dae-ho!" He supported him while actively scribbling across his stomach to get to each side of his ribs. Back and forth, while his other hand still wiggled against the right side of Dae-ho's neck. It took 10 more seconds before Dae-ho burst out in giggles again. Lying on the steps to try and get away. Jung-Bae's hands followed his movements with a smile.

"Juhuhung-bahahae!! Sihihir! Please! Hahaha!" It was light airy giggles since Jung-Bae was being relatively nice about it, for now. The older marines heart practically melted into puddy at the sound.

"Please what Dae-ho? I can't understand you with all this laughter!" He pulled up his shirt a little, using both hands to now tickle his stomach, which got Dae-ho kicking now. His water bottle now knocked off the stairs. Thank God it was closed. But Young-il had to duck, moving out of the way of the water bottle and the pair.

"JUHuhUhung-BAHaEHe!" He laughed a little more as his hands held onto the others' wrists. The other laughed with him and continued to tease him. One finger finding it's way into his belly button. This caused Dae-ho to make a sound similar to a snort and laugh some more.

"You know I think this might be why you're not a marine anymore, you're an interrogation risk, one little tickle and you'd spill all the beans of our plans" he joked which made the other a little embarrassed. His ears were a little red as he kept laughing.

"HaHaHAHAHA!" He kept going. "I wOhoHould nEHeHeVer! BETraHAhay! My TeHEHEheam!" He tried to defend himself before Jung-Bae smirked. He knew that, duh, but that was still adorable. He liked it when he was laughing rather than panicking. It suited him.

"Tickle Tickle Tickle~" he teased more, moving up to gently tickle his underarms. Dae-ho slammed them down quickly, his laughter never subsiding as he squirmed around on the step.

"GEhehEt OhoHOUT oF tHEHehere!!" He shook his head no as Jung-Bae giggled.

"Oh? Do you want me to pick a different spot?" He asked gently as Dae-ho nodded frantically through his laughter. He soon regretted his decision as Jung-Bae's hands went from his underarms to his sides, squeezing the ex-marine's most ticklish spot with determination.

"AHAHAHAHA NOHOHO HAHAHAHA!" Dae-ho let out a bout of laughter mixed with some incoherent speech. His kicking increased ten-folds as well. He was a squirmer, that's for sure. Jung-Bae smiled and kept going.

"What's the matter soldier? Is it too ticklish for ya? Hmm? I'm gonna getcha!" He was deep into tickle monster mode now. There was no stopping Jung-Bae now. Dae-ho squeaked this time as he let himself laugh.

"IHIHHIT TIHIHIHICKLES! JUHUHUHUNG-BAHAEHE!" He threw his head back gently, laughing as his back arched into his hands out of instinct. This was amusing to Jung-Bae. So he was enjoying this, good!

"SHIHIHIT!-" He said, moving his body back to the floor. Jung-Bae smirked at this.

"Such fowl language for an ex-marine! Watch your tone, young man!" He smiled before blowing a raspberry into one of his sides, still tickling his other side with the other hand. He lost his mind.

"SIHIHIHIR! IHIM SOHOHORRY! MERCY PLEHEHEHEHEASE HAHAHA!" He asked for mercy. Jung-Bae gave him a few more scribbles before he finally stopped. Beaming, Jung-Bae sat back and watched Dae-ho catch his breath, giggles poking through every now and again.

"At ease, buddy"

"Thahank you...sir" he sat up gently as Jung-Bae patted his shoulder again. His duty was done. Mission completed.

"Dae-ho, don't worry about it, you aren't the only ticklish ex-marine around." Gi-Hun smirked as Jung-Bae gasped

"Gi-Hun!" He said, sounded offended even though he really wasn't. Dae-ho giggled at this and turned to Jung-Bae.

"I see..." he hummed teasingly

Like father like son.

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

Thank you @sleepy--anon for pushing me further to write for squid games and giving me the duo idea! I hope I did the fandom/show justice!

-K :]

[buckdiazlafd]

Thoughts on Vampire!Eddie ??? (I'm a little bit in love w the idea rn)

at first he didn’t want to tell buck. he was being all cagey and repressed about it. but buck kinda figured it out, put some of the pieces together. he’s not dumb. and so eddie confessed one night while they sat on his couch.

buck: do you like… need to drink blood? everyday?

eddie: well..ideally yeah but. it’s not like in the movies. we can eat regular food, we can drink animal blood it’s just. not…

buck: it’s like junk food vs organic? lol

eddie (relieved that bucks still buck. not freaked out. not looking at him like something to be scared of): yeah. lol yeah basically

buck: well… you could always. i mean. if i get a paper cut . maybe you could..

eddie: no! no way. no i would never do that. besides once. once I taste it it’s harder to. to go back to..

Eddie gets a vampire cold. nothing serious but especially since he doesn’t get human blood daily he can’t fight it off as easy. so he feels like shit. bucks in the kitchen chopping vegetables to put in his soup even though.. he’s not even sure it’ll even help but. anyone, vampire or not, likes warm soup when they’re sick. eddie shuffles in asks if he can help in anyway, buck ofc says no but that eddies bedhead is hot even when sick and he doesn’t know how eddie can look that good even with a cold. eddie blushes. not. in a human way but in an eddie way that buck loves. small smile, little head shake that says omg shut up but also. keep talking. it’s all very mundane despite the vampire sized elephant in the room until.

“shit”

buck cuts himself. dropping the knife he holds up his pointer finger. warm red already dripping down the side of it. realization hits buck and he looks up at eddie who looks. frozen in place. no not frozen. restrained. hungry. like it’s taking all the resolve in his weakened body to stay in that spot. he also looks. ashamed. which buck hates the most. eddie should never be ashamed of how he was made. of who he is. bc buck loves him. he would give eddie anything. all of him. what’s mine is yours eddie he had said once. and he meant it.

buck takes a step forward.

“Buck dont” eddie holds his hand out.

“eddie… it’s okay.. i want.. i want to help you feel better i want to help you.”

“buck..” eddie closes his eyes, gathers himself. when he opens them again bucks rounded the kitchen island is now in front of him. he holds out his finger, an offering. if you want this, if you want me, you can take it. use it in whatever way you need.

eddie pauses. stares. then, as if he’s made some sort of silent decision with himself, gently takes bucks hand. buck feels like he can’t breathe. eddie brings it up to his mouth. places the lightest gentlest kiss just above the cut, (which is already starting to coagulate. it wasn’t deep.) and grabs a paper towel off the counter, wraps bucks finger, holds bucks injured hand in both of his and w a small smile, voice rough from the intensity, says, “the soup smells delicious buck, i can’t wait to try it.” he gives bucks hand one last squeeze before letting it go. buck feels slightly shaken. almost like after a close call at work. but eddie looks steady, sure, not fighting himself like earlier. so buck takes a breath. exhales. smiles and says “it Does smell delicious doesn’t it” and eddie laughs. it’s beautiful. grounds buck. settles that nervous energy. “see? ok cowboy, I’ll grab the bowls and then you meet me on the couch. we’ll start a movie.”

buck nods, tends to his finger the old fashioned way, not by your vampire bf sucking the blood out of it, he thinks slightly dejectedly, and puts the finishing touches on the soup.

eddies grabbing the bowls and utensils. but buck. bucks been looking at him bc. actually. eddie had the smallest drop of bucks blood on his bottom lip. from the kiss. he wasn’t even sure if eddie noticed it. Bucks attention is half on the stove but still on eddie. always on eddie. and before eddie heads to the living room, eddie takes a quick glance at buck, sees if he’s looking. bucks perfected the act of obliviousness, so eddie, thinking he’s free from bucks gaze, tentatively and gently brings his finger up to his bottom lip. swipes. and tastes. like when you’re taste testing a dish. small, delicate, efficient. but eddie? he savors. allows himself the quickest of indulgences. closes his eyes. breathes in deep. takes one last glance at buck, making sure he wasn’t caught. and heads into the living room. buck smiles, he’s stirring the soup but he’s not even there right now. he’s on eddies bottom lip, on the pad of his finger. On the tip of his tongue., He feels a rush go through him. electric like lighting. maybe tonight’s not the night. he doesn’t know when it will happen, but somehow he’s going to let eddie know. this isn’t just for eddies sake. this isn’t buck just offering up his body his blood in order to find some absolution, some salvation. buck wants this just as much as eddie needs it. he thrums with this resolution. ladles out the soup. and heads into the living room.

[genderqueerdykes]

thank you to everyone for the constructive criticism & feedback on a recent ask, i appreciate everyone who took the time to point out where my logic was out of line! i genuinely appreciate it when people let me know that my responses to things are out of line! thank you for helping me see how my line of thinking was misguided! i meant no ill will, but i see how people could have thought that i did- so thank you for taking the time to point out another perspective.

i take criticism very seriously! i'm not here to only talk and not listen. thank you to everyone- and in general, thank you if you provide constructive criticism to me in any scenario. i seriously do not take this shit personally. i care about other people's lives and experiences and if i say something that invalidates, speaks over or misrepresents a person or group of people, i want to be told immediately so i can stop the behavior as quickly as possible.

thank y'all! i appreciate the feedback i receive on here, especially when i've said something completely out of line! i appreciate how so many people are willing to tell me how my perspective wasn't right without resulting to insults or anything like that. i really appreciate that y'all will tell it like it is instead of assuming the worst and attacking my person. that's huge, so thank you! that helps me out a ton as a blogger so i don't say things that can really hurt a person, or give people incorrect information.

appreciate you all, thanks again, i will never be upset at anyone for providing constructive criticism. it's important. i have to humble myself, too. i need to know when i'm hurting others or saying something that's not right. thank y'all for being an amazing community who is willing to show support, but doesn't want to coddle me. that's huge. i feel like so many communities that surround a person end up coddling that person because they don't want to offend them. i do not want that treatment. please tell me when i've messed up. it's the only way we can grow and move past toxic mentalities. thank y'all for not being afraid to give me that feedback!