#and now i cannot move 3 toes

[potchi-fics]

note: backshots with g!p vi mhhmmpffhmmhfpphfmmm, also it's 3:50 am here when i finished writing this (w/o the good boy for the folks out there, here's the link, all of my g!p works will be posted in there.)

      vi’s libido is exceptionally high—especially when it comes to you and you only. you have the power to turn her on, to make her dick so hard, it’ll leave her aching, needy, and whiney. you could be bending to get something you baked from the oven, or press your tits on her arms to show her something, or just wear shorts that reveal your thighs.

her eyes have never shined so brightly. her dick gets harder and harder every time. the moment you step out of your shared bathroom wearing just her shirt and underwear—she is gone.

“vi, how are you turned on right now,” her hands roam your body, still slightly damp from a shower, “you seriously cannot be turned on.”

      she kisses your neck, vi’s front making contact against your back, leading you to lean your head to the side, giving her more access. 

vi whines out, her hips grinding on your backside, hissing at the small pleasure, “please, baby. can’t help it,” your hand lands on her hips as she begins to grind, letting you feel her cock through her shorts, “you make me feel so good.”

“vi–” you feel fingers at the garters of your underwear, eyes widening once she pulls it down, pooling around your midthighs.

      well, good thing your libido is higher, yeah?

she pushes you towards the end of your bed, making you land on your knees. and without even a second thought, vi flattens her tongue on your pussy, toes curling at the sudden pleasure. her thumb circles your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, but her tongue, god, her tongue is doing wonders to you.

a squeal escapes your throat when you feel her push in, hands gripping the sheets. vi’s groans serve as a vibration and it adds to the pleasure she’s giving you. she pulls her tongue out, licking down to replace her thumb. she alternates between sucking and giving your clit kitten licks.

“ne-need you inside, vi,” your mewls and whimpers spur her on, eyes shut, “inside, hurry.”

      obeying like a soldier, she quickly slips two fingers inside of your sopping cunt, groaning at the warmness and tightness of you. vi curls her fingers, her tongue doing circles on your clit.

the feeling of the tip of her fingers prodding on your g-spot makes your entire body quiver in need. you wet your sheets with your drool, face digging deeper into, crescent-like marks appearing on your palms with how tight you grip.

vi is no better; her shorts are ruined, the head of her cock dripping with precum. her cock itself is already sensitive, pulsing and twitching inside the material, straining against it. 

“vi, baby,” your voice is muffled, barely gasping your words out, “need you inside. your cock.”

      you turn your head to stare at her—the big bad wolf of zaun is broken, disheveled: hair is tussled, body coated in sweat, eyes needy. she pulls down her shorts just enough for her dick to slip out, slapping against her navel, and the tip just a little bit shorter than the patch of red hair.

your eyes glint dangerously under the light, face holding a barely contained smirk; you’ve got her wrapped around your finger. 

she grips the base of her cock, slapping it on your wet cunt, making another whimper escape you. vi slowly slips the head of her cock, biting her lip at the sight of you welcoming her. you bury your face into the mattress once more, attempting to at least suppress your noises.

you can cum with how her dick slides into you, how she goes deeper and deeper, ever so slowly; letting you feel her thickness, the veins. 

vi whines when you clamp down on her the moment the back of your thighs meets her own, “baby, so tight.” she brings the hem of her tanktop to her mouth, biting it to keep it from covering your pussy, “gripping me so good.”

“move.”

      vi rocks her hips, you refuse to let go of her. her thumbs press down on your back dimples, using your body as leverage to pump your cunt on her dick. unconsciously, you spread your legs wider, arching your back a little more, pushing back against her. 

every time she pulls out, only to thrust back in, it makes your eyes roll. with the way she’s moving, you can feel it deep in your pussy, the head of her cock dragging itself on your walls—you’re already convulsing in pleasure.

vi changes her pace, faster and harder, slamming into you like she’s about to put a baby in you. she bites down into her shirt, seeing your slick on her dick encourages her to fuck you harshly.

your unfocused gaze lands back at her, “i think i’m about to cum already, baby,” vi’s surprised gaze, hazed even, bores into you, “mh-hmm… you make me feel so good, vi. such a good boy for me.”

      she shudders at your praise, abdomen flexing, her dick twitching inside of you. she pulls you up by your arms, your back still arching as she pushes her hips into yours, forcing her dick to go deeper.

she pulls out until her tip’s only what’s left inside of you before slamming back in. she wraps one hand around your throat, attacking your neck with bites and kisses, leaving marks that’ll last for days. 

you’re letting out sinful and unforgivable noises, throat beginning to get sore, but neither of you cares. you lean your head back on her shoulder, a hand going up to caress the back of her head, grasping her hair to ground yourself.

“make me cum, baby, rub my clit,” to help you get over the edge, she gives attention to your puffy clit, rubbing it, her cock splitting you thin, “just like that, vi.”

      vi’s shudders again, holding back her orgasm just for you. she speeds up, a yelp emitting from you. you are just so tight, so warm, so good. your pussy sucks her cock in like a succubus, you’re milking her.

she feels your chest heave excessively, broken whispers of her name—her eyes are tightly shut close, and she’s cumming. she cums like a hose, filling you up to the brim with her cum. with each spurt, she thrusts; you love it. you love it so much that you’re going over the edge along with her.

“baby, your pussy’s crushing me,” vi whimpered meekly, cock still cumming, “fuck, you feel so good.”

you laugh tiredly, enjoying how her dick spasms inside of you, your eyes still closed, “not my fault your dick is massive, honey.”

      her posture relaxes once she stops cumming, her arms hugging your torso, the both of you catching your breath before she’s separating herself from you. vi lifts her tanktop once again as she looks down, she pulls out slowly, groaning at the way your cunt grips her dick, or how a bridge of your cum and hers appears.

“you’re carrying me to the bathroom.”

[anantaru]

hii <3 do you think that dr ratio or argenti would be into eating you out? like argenti just being so sweet abt it, he’s such a cutiee. and dr ratio doing it like he claims you or smth. idkk they could be anything but i’m interested if these two boys would be into thatt. ( ps your writing is so good… i love it sm 🙏🏻🙏🏻🫶🏻)

including. dr ratio, argenti

cw. oral (fem! receiving), petnames used: doll, angel, fem! reader

— ꒰ VERITAS RATIO ꒱ + rough & sloppy

veritas cannot lie to himself but he finds it adorable how you cannot mutter out a single word right now, and the only thing you were still capable of doing was holding your thighs apart so he could fit his head in between and fill your tummy with consistent pleasure.

"you don't want to show me how you feel, doll?" he utters in that unbearably arrogant tone he adored to use on you whenever he proved you wrong as you shake your head, your sticky cream coating his chin, "hmm... well, i'll just force it out of you then, don't you think that's fair?" a refined mewl spills from you when he licks at your folds again, never breaking the eye contact and not caring if you'd end up making a mess of his entire face with your sweet liquids.

and the way his tongue vibrates on your pussy was turning you head over heels for the man, the coarse laps of his tongue full of affection that your toes curl at each lick, and he only gets rougher with proactive drags of his tongue rolling over your hole and collecting everything you give him.

by now, your core has been drenched by a mixture of your slick and his spit, and your legs shake when he kneads the skin on your thighs as to simultaneously comfort you and hold you deep against his greedy face.

one more, just to taste you once more, and you're finally showing him what he does to you, your labored breathing exhaling with the rapid thumping of your heart as your thighs clench around him to ride his face, his enthralling eyes looking more graceful and dark with no mercy reflecting off of them.

you lift yourself onto your elbows to get a better view of the mess on your lower area, watching him closely as the sensation of his mouth made you lose your mind.

your fingers move swift as to reach down and twist into his soft hair, holding him tightly into your cunt when he flips his tongue left and right, his breath hitting your pussy with every exhale— your folds were just so hot, so wet, and squishy that he needs to suckle on them before filling you with his cum later.

— ꒰ ARGENTI ꒱ + attentive & fast

oh, you sure as hell are starting to see stars when argenti suckles on your folds, with his nose dragging into your cunt the more he forces his head in between your thighs— but you're unable to meet his gaze and it saddens him, despite the fact that it felt so deliciously good, doesn't it?

"argenti.." you moan his name just above a whisper of your labored breathing, your lower lip trembling at how dirty it felt to have him lap around your cunt like a mad man, his hands continuously feeling you up when you arch your back into his mouth.

"yes, angel?" his eyes flicker up with lust, "enjoying yourself for me?"

argenti receives no response, at least not a verbal one, instead you hum dazedly as your eyes flutter shut when his nose rolls between the flesh that protected the little pearl on your cunt, your swollen pussy aching to feel more of the friction it so desperately desires.

"such a good girl," he groans into your pussy, lowering one hand from your thigh to your hole as he gently pushes into it before curling deep to scissor your cunt. fuck, argenti simply cannot tear his eyes off you.

you're just so impossibly perfect to him, and he treats you like an ancient treasure whenever he received the gift of going down on you.

you repeatedly whisper his name imbedded in praises as you left it to your crumbling voice to find his ears— and argenti wasn't sure on who, out of the two of you, would break under the pressure first.

because listen closely now, your pussy was like none he has ever tasted before and he hopes you know it by the way he circles the tip of his pink muscle so precisely into you.

you turned him achingly hard, his tongue pressing upwards and back only to lap slightly faster, ugh, he swears that every time you chant his name or tremble your legs around his head he can feel his cock throb in his pants, pushing harder and harder against his boxers.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[starlightxsvt]

Guilty | sibilance. 3

synopsis ➳ ❝ after months you see Wonwoo at the annual party. lines are crossed, accusations are made and just after, your colleague voices out a crazy proposition.❞

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo (ft. Jeonghan)

genre ➳ angst, smut, drama

word count ➳ 4.5k + 900(patreon bonus)

warnings ➳ cursing, toxic ex vibes, slight love triangle, rough sex, unprotected intercourse, dom!wonwoo, big dic!wonwoo, messy makeouts, dirty talk, degradation, cream pie, no aftercare, so much drama.

previous chapter

The weather is misty today. Winter has passed quickly over the past three months, and now spring is starting to ease the chill from the air. Yet, you still feel just as tired, if not more so than before.

A break is an imminent necessity, but you will not be getting any until you wrap up your current case. It is a huge one, viral on social media due to its scandalized nature, but most importantly, your client and his opponent are extremely exhausting. It is like managing toddlers, and you are ever so grateful that Jeonghan is also handling this case with you.

It is a particularly sensitive case because your client is the owner of the biggest textile company in the country and also, Chairman Jeon’s good friend, Mr Kim. Last month, he married his daughter off to another huge chaebol family in the country and the issue began with the catering service for the wedding, owned by Mr Kim’s ex business partner and current rival. The guests all got food poisoning right in the middle of the ceremony and the bride had an allergic reaction, throwing Mr Kim into a fit as he claimed it to be an attempted murder to get revenge on him.

Things have been chaotic since then, keeping you on your toes.

Despite being snowed under your work, a particular rumour floating around the Jeon Corporation caught your attention and has been a constant form of distraction ever since you heard it.

Word on the street says that Chairman Jeon is set to announce a new CEO at the annual party of the company taking place this weekend and apparently, one candidate is his own son and the other is a completely new hire. Six months ago you would have laughed at the rumour of the Chairman’s son, Wonwoo— who you know personally, taking over the company but now, you can say nothing for sure.

It has been nearly three months since you last saw him, partly due to your hectic schedule and also due to the lack of work at Jeon Corporation. Since you have not visited the headquarters recently, you have not been tortured by the sight of that infuriating man but you have to admit that thoughts of Wonwoo have been plaguing your mind. They pop up randomly in your head and you hate your mind for betraying you like that.

You are supposed to move on. And it was not even an actual relationship so why are you still thinking about that stupid, spoiled brat?

“Your drink.” Jeonghan places your coffee on your desk, snapping you out of your reverie. You turn from the window in front of which you were standing and walk back to your desk, taking a sip of your latte with a grateful smile. “I still cannot believe you got my order exactly right on the first try. Thank you.”

It is truly insane. A month ago one day, as your work started piling up, you stopped taking your usual coffee breaks and instead asked Jeonghan to grab you something, forgetting to mention how you like your coffee. Unbelievably, when you tried what he brought for you, you were astounded to the point of silence.

Turns out you and his sister have very similar tastes so he got lucky with that.

“You are most welcome.” Jeonghan smiles, throwing a cheeky wink at you. “Just knock on my door if you need anything.”

“Will do.” You pause for a moment. Just as he is about to close the door behind him, you call, “Jeonghan, you’re attending the party this weekend, right?”

The man steps back into your office. “Yes. Actually, I am glad that you brought it up.”

You wait, looking at him expectantly.

“Would you be my date for the evening?” 

You smile. “Gladly.” Everyone you know already has a plus one so you were dreading showing up alone. As always, Jeonghan has come to the rescue.

“I am honoured.” Jeonghan smiles, his eyes crinkling beautifully. “I was worried Mr. Pi would ask me to be his plus one. I mean it was either going to be you or me.”

You snort a burst of laughter. “I know, right? But he will not get off our backs when he figures out we’re coming together. You know he has that weird obsession of pairing us together like a couple.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan’s face grows serious.“That isn’t a bad idea, you know.”

A soft sigh falls from your lips.

“You should move on from him. It has been long enough, don’t you think?”

“I am over him,” you reply, almost defensively. “Listen, if there is one thing I have learned, it is, not to date where you work.”

Jeonghan chuckles softly. “Office romance is quite fun you know.”

You arch a teasing brow. “Someone seems experienced.’’ The man smiles secretively before stepping closer to the door, pulling it open with one hand. “Just giving you a heads up, you haven’t seen me in a suit yet.”

“I see you in a suit every day, Jeonghan.” You sass.

The man rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. A proper three piece suit. A tuxedo. Prepare to have your mind blown.” He shakes his palms for dramatic effect.

You sip your coffee. “Mhm, stop pestering me now. I have so much work to do.”

The man flashes a smile before pulling the door closed.

You still have a grin lingering on your lips as you open your files and start skimming through them.

—

On Saturday night, Jeonghan is in front of your house sharply at 7.

You rush to the door as you receive his text, putting on your heels and scrambling to get your purse and phone. 

You are going to be late but hey, at least you will be fashionably late. 

Buying this emerald green dress impulsively six months ago was not a bad idea, you now realize, because you love how the dress fits you. With your hair and makeup done, it is almost a completely new you and you may have taken too long admiring yourself in the mirror.

Jeonghan’s jaw goes slack as he watches you step out of your apartment building. His expression makes you laugh and you cannot help but shake your head at his overexaggeration. 

“Wow,” his eyes move up and down as he steps closer to you. “Fucking hell. You look absolutely stunning.”

Shyly you avoid his gaze. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.” You gesture towards him, waving your hand up and down his height. The coffee-coloured three piece suit is truly a fabulous compliment to his brushed back blond hair.

The man shakes his head. “You were the one who should have given me a heads up. I have the prettiest woman in the party as my date.”

This man sure has a way with his words.

“I can see why you are such a successful lawyer, Mr. Yoon.” You saunter past him. “Let’s get going now. We’re already late.”

“Yes madam,” he rushes past you to hold open the car door, making you smile.

—

The venue is crowded when you arrive.

It takes no more than five minutes for your colleagues to spot the two of you and five more minutes later, you are graced by Mr. Pi’s holy presence. He gushes over the two of you and when Jeonghan escapes the conversation by saying he’ll get drinks for you, Mr. Pi corners you.

“Are you sure you are not dating our dear Mr. Yoon?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “No, Mr. Pi. Come on now, let it be.”

He hums and then nods thoughtfully, pushing his sunglasses up his nose bridge.

Who knows why he is wearing that indoors and at night.

“I understand,” the man rubs his chin slowly and seriously as if he is pondering the most critical issue of life. “Our chairman’s handsome son left a lasting impression on you.”

Even before you realise it, a soft, almost wistful sigh escapes your lips. “Can we not talk about him? At least not here?”

Mr. Pi looks at you from above his sunglasses, “This is the place to talk about him. Tonight people will talk about him.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Wait, what?

“Mr. Pi—” You reach out for him but he spots an old colleague and walks over to him, ignoring you with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Right then, Jeonghan is back with two flutes of champagne in his hands. You snatch one from him and immediately gulp it down. Then, you narrow your eyes at him. “Nice job, jerk. Leaving me alone with him.”

The man cheekily shrugs his shoulder, unable to fight off the knowing smile blooming on his lips. Grinning at you, he sips his champagne. 

With a shake of your head, you go around the room accompanied by Jeonghan, mingling with old and new faces. The stage is being set up for the upcoming speeches by the top executives of the company. The closing speech will, of course, be Chairman Jeon’s. The grand hall room increasingly grows crowded as you finish two more glasses of champagne while socialising, everyone eager to hear the big announcement.

“I think you have drunk enough for now.” Jeonghan blocks your hand when you reach for the fourth glass as a waiter passes by. You pout, “Oh come on. Socialising takes a lot of energy. I cannot talk to these boring people about boring things on a Saturday night while being sober.”

A scoff of amusement comes from him and he opens his mouth to say something but his vision shifts, focusing on something behind you. His expression changes and you turn your head back to see what he is looking at.

Not what. Who.

Wonwoo stands a few feet behind you, looking unfairly stunning. The contrast of his black blazer against his crisp white shirt is stunning and with sharp features and his hair brushed back, he is a scene stealer.

He, however, seems not to attract attention as he remains on the edge of the hall room, near where the lights are dimmer. As your eyes meet his and the raging beat of your heart loudens, he holds your gaze before taking quick steps towards you.

Within a couple of seconds, he is right in front of you. 

“We need to talk. Privately.” He says, his posture slightly rigid, and he looks around the room as if making sure no one sees him.

You don’t have much time to process his words as he ushers you away by tugging your wrist. You look back at Jeonghan almost helplessly and the man gives you an understanding nod. “I’ll be here, don’t worry.”

You are quickly rushed out of the grand room and pulled down a hallway at the end of which there are a few private rooms. Wonwoo pulls you inside and shuts the door behind you.

The room is messy and if you are not wrong, it seems to be his dressing room.

In your mind, an equation starts to form as you take everything in.

Finally, your eyes land on Wonwoo after scouring the room and you find him looking at you attentively.

There is a hard lump in your throat that you have to swallow.

“Hi.” The man says quietly, almost shyly.

“It has been a while,” you murmur as a greeting, trying to keep your voice as flat as possible. 

“Way too long,” he replies, his voice much quieter as he enunciates each word slowly and carefully. You wonder if it is your mind playing tricks on you or if the depth of his eyes just increased tenfold.

Whatever, you cannot let yourself get caught up in this again. The tension in the air is thickening by the second.

“Why did you bring me here?” You avoid his eyes, your gaze settling on the skin peeking from underneath his shirt as the two buttons are undone.

“Right.” Wonwoo blinks as if breaking out of a trance. “I wanted to tell you something. I mean…it will be announced later but I thought you out of all people should hear it from me first.”

The way he speaks, his eyes skirting around, his hands fidgety tells you what the news is. You voice it out for him. “You are taking over the company?”

You see his pupils widen. After a moment's pause, he says. “Yes.”

Hm. He is dressed too fancy to attend as a mere employee anyway.

You are proud of him for sure. He has grown as a person since you last saw him. But at the same time, there is dread in the pit of your stomach. With him now taking over the company, there is no escaping him. You will be seeing him, whether you like it or not. 

“Congratulations.” You hum. “I appreciate you informing me separately but it wasn’t necessary. We don’t have any personal contact. I am just another employee, Jeon…Chairman Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo looks at you with surprise and you wonder if it is your icy demeanour that makes him frown.

“Still…I have to thank you. You had a huge part to play in getting me here.”

Oh really?

For a brief moment, your mind flashes back to earlier this year when you were seeing each other. The late night talks about his future with the company. You find yourself wondering how he managed to earn his father’s trust so quickly because you remember him telling you his father would never let him take over. Due to his unrefined behaviors, of course. But it seems that he has grown out of them which is good for him.

“I better get going. Jeonghan is probably waiting for me.” You step towards the door but Wonwoo grabs your upper arm, pulling you back with a gentle tug.

“Do you not miss me? Not one bit?” His voice is so thick with emotion that it feels foreign to you. Like his, your throat closes up, and you hate how a few words from him make tears burn in the back of your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. Just let—”

“It does! There is something else I have to tell you.”

“I don’t care!” You yell, jerking yourself free from his hold. “You can not act all familiar after so long. We are not like that anymore! Why can’t you understand?”

In the semi darkness of the room, you see his eyes glimmer. 

The very next moment he is kissing you.

And you are kissing him back. 

Just for tonight, you tell yourself as your resolve slips. You are going to give in just tonight. Just one last time. You truly don’t have it in you to turn away from him now, from his warmth, touch, and embrace when this is what you have been longing for the past few months.

Maneuvering your body with his, he pins you against the wall, trapping you with ease. And tonight, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"I missed you." He whispers like a mantra, devouring your mouth like a starved man. He trails kisses down your jaw as his hands remove your straps from your shoulders, revealing the entire expanse of your shoulder and neck for him to play with. In between heated kisses, his hands explore your breasts, playing with your soft mounds over the fabric of your dress. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you. 

Your hands move over his chest, feeling the firm muscles under your fingertips before pushing his blazer off his shoulders. The lines are hazy just like your mind as you cannot decipher who pulls whom closer. In the dense cloud of lust, you can only fathom the opening of the buttons of his shirt and his warm body pressing next to yours. 

“I need you,” Wonwoo murmurs against your lips. One of his hands moves expertly down your thigh before he grips the back of your knee and places it around his waist. You pull him even closer, smashing your lips against his, hot and heavy as your tongue meets his.

Briefly, you hear the groan of his zipper being undone. You lift your dress, standing at an angle that helps him comfortably slide between your legs, his unrelenting grip on the back of your thigh.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. " His whisper is a command as he positions himself at your entrance, pushing your panties to a side.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud, breathy groan of pleasure that makes you squeeze his shoulders and bite your lip. 

This. This is exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you needed.

You feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your hold on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're so tight. I missed you.” He grunts with each thrust. “Letting me fuck you against a wall, in my dressing room. Tell me, did you miss this? Did you miss me like I missed you?" Wonwoo demands, a hand reaching up to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Look at me and tell me you did not miss me,” he pants, a snarl etched in his tone as he removes his hand from your face and grips the back of your throat, pulling your face closer to his.

"W-Wonwoo," you try to moan. Wonwoo keeps watching you with a darkened gaze, his pace matching the fierceness in his gaze as he continues to drill into you. He shakes after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back. “You are still that dirty girl. You're still my filthy slut."

You hate how much you missed his filthy mouth. 

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, let me come, Wonwoo."

The man smiles, and it almost appears cruel and cocky as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall. He increases his pace, thrusting in and out of you so hard that your back starts aching. However, you are way beyond complaining because the next moment his release is filling you up, triggering yours. Your cry is loud and unceremonious as you cling to him and ride out your high, feeling your release in the deepest fibres of your being

A short moment later, Wonwoo’s grip on you loosens. With a slightly hazy mind, you watch you grab some tissues, cleaning up you and him. With the haze of lust disappearing gradually, you find your head clearing up. The silence in the air now feels suffocating and you find yourself playing a guessing game.

Why is he so quiet? What is he thinking?

As Wonwoo buttons up his shirt and fixes his jacket, his gaze meets yours and you see his eyes fall on your lips. Pressing your fingertips around your lips, you realise your lipstick is smudged. Quietly, he hands you a tissue paper and you walk to the mirror, using it to dab the lipstick stain around your lips.

In the mirror, you watch Wonwoo watching you. All throughout, another strange, suffocating silence persists. As you toss the tissue in the bin, the silence is finally broken by his quiet, somber voice, “My father arranged a marriage for me.”

Your body grows ice cold.

For one long, horrible moment, you stop breathing, thinking, praying that you heard wrong.

“What are you…what— what do you mean?”

“He wants me to marry a chaebol heiress— Yuna Lee, sometime next year.”

Suddenly, you are scrambling to get your thoughts in order. It is always like this with him. One moment it is quiet and the next you are hit by a full speed freight train. 

“You should not have done that. We should not have done that. Why didn’t you tell me that before?” 

“Well, I tried—”

Suddenly, your blood is boiling and you are seeing red.

“What was this, a goodbye fuck?” You hiss, fixing the straps of your dress.

“What?” Wonwoo scoffs. “No! I have been thinking about you for months! Trying to figure out how to approach you—

“With all that thinking you sure did one good job!” You find yourself turning towards the door. 

“Oh come on! I…I missed you. You drive me crazy. You know damn well my brain stops working when you are near me.”

“No, Wonwoo. I don’t.” You grit. 

The passion, the emotion that you have been holding back all these months comes out in tidal waves. “In case you don’t remember, during our relationship, you were always so nonchalant, so detached. You did not give a shit about me. Not really because I was a fuck buddy to you. A girl getting paid to get your ass out of trouble every time and also someone available for a quick bang!”

Wonwoo’s demeanour shifts. You visibly see him get defensive. “Well, it's not like you professed your love to me! You did not ever hint that you were in love with me.”

Your mouth falls open at the absurdity of his words.

“You… you did not treat me with the minimum respect. You would disappear for weeks, Wonwoo, completely out of the radar only to show up when you needed my help.” You pause. “Never mind, it is pointless to argue with you.” You turn, reaching for the handle of the door.

Wonwoo stops you by roughly tugging on your arm. His grip is iron solid. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to leave without hearing my piece!”

You place a hand on his and use it to remove his fingers from your skin. “The time for speaking was months ago. Not now in a dressing room, minutes before you are about to be announced the new CEO.”

“I finally have my life together!”

“Do you?” You take a step closer to him with a challenge. “Do you really?”

Wonwoo remains silent, his eyes sparkling with thundering storms and clouds of emotions.

You continue. “I was your comfort zone. You used me when you needed me and then forgot about me when you were not in the mood. It would not have mattered if I professed undying love for you. You did not love me, not in the right way. You did not and you don’t right now. This is you trying to find comfort in something familiar…me.”

A twisted, unironical smile appears on his lips. “Oh, so you are what now, a therapist?”

You remain silent, watching him without blinking.

The man shakes his head, scoffing. “If you only knew how I truly felt…” His fingers card through his hair as he takes a step back. “You have no idea how I feel. In fact, right now, I don’t think you even know how you feel!”

Your lips part, ready to interject, but he goes on. “You are right. This was a mistake. I should not have told you about my dad’s plans of getting me married. No, because you would have liked to just straight up receive my wedding invite, huh? I should have just married her and showed up with her one day and introduced you as a special friend, no? Would you have liked that? Would that be the right thing to do?”

Each syllable coming out of his mouth burns like acid. Tears blur your vision but you force yourself not to cry in front of him.

“I fucking hate you.” You breathe, uttering each world slowly. “I hope you have a miserable life with her, you asshole. Never show me your face again.” Gathering your dress with one hand, you march towards the door, not stopping when he calls out your name or tries to hold onto you.

He can go to hell.

Your steps are quick as you pick up pace, running down the long hallway of the private rooms and then down a common corridor before you come to the large foyer in front of the elevator. With your skirt fisted in your hands, you dash for it but a voice makes you pause.

You turn back to find Jeonghan calling your name and jogging after you. As he comes to a stop in front of you, his eyes go up and down the length of your body, taking notice of your dishevelled appearance. 

“Are you okay?” His fingers gently touch your arm but you don’t let him pull you closer.

You need to leave.

“I need to go home.” You whisper, voice wobbly.

“Why are you running?” He steps closer to you, a desperation in his voice that matches the look in your eyes. “That bastard keeps hurting you and you keep running from him. Go and fucking… I don’t know— cause a scene! Drag him on stage and smack him once or twice.”

You are not in the mood for this.

“Stop it, Jeonghan,” you grunt turning away but the man steps in front of you.

“No! I won’t stop when I see you repeatedly suffering because of him.”

If you were not so overcome with emotions, you would roll your eyes.

“Just let me go.” You hiss, stepping past the man blocking your way. As you cross him, however, a harsh grip on your wrist forces you to stop. 

“Go out with me,” Jeonghan says in the calmest manner, the hold of his fingers on your wrist steadfast like his voice.

You almost make a move to yank yourself free but the diction of those words stops you in your tracks as if a thunderbolt has just struck you. You slowly turn your head back to meet Jeonghan’s eyes, wondering if he really said that. The strength you had moments ago to break your hand free suddenly dissipates as you meet his piercing gaze.

Along with your heartbeat, time stops.

You forget to blink, feeling the subtle tightening of his grip on you. As the silence hangs longer in the air and the depth of his words settles into the empty grand hall and every crevice of your tattered heart, you find yourself motionless, thoughtless, speechless.

“Date me. You know I’ll treat you better.” He states, again.

You feel like you are hyperventilating. A shaky breath comes from your lips and after that, each breath is a struggle. 

Suddenly, everything is too much.

Too much light in this hall. Too much noise in the background.

Too much sincerity in his words.

For a moment, you genuinely find yourself considering.

And as your gaze strays from your colleague for the smallest moment, you notice Wonwoo standing a few meters behind him. 

The look in his eyes is inexplicable but you feel every emotion radiating off him and you immediately know he heard everything. He doesn’t move, however. As the silence persists, his gaze darkens, watching you like a hawk, almost as if he is waiting to hear your verdict.

At the same time, the longer you look, his gaze appears vulnerable, betrayed.

And you feel…guilty.

Want to know how Jeonghan actually got the reader's order right? Read the special scene here!

series masterliest

[rad-batson]

Batlantern Headcanons Because I Found My New Brainrot and I Cannot Contain Myself (Platonic or Romantic, You Decide <3)

Hal is the only one who gets away with calling Bruce nicknames. Oliver tried calling Bruce “Spooky” once. He still has nightmares.

Several long-winded missions combined with Hal’s couch-surfing escapades have resulted in Hal having his own official Wayne guest room.

Alfred has smacked Hal with a dish towel several times. Reasons include: trying to wash the dishes, using a mini vac that he brought from home, and spitting gum into the garbage without wrapping it in a tissue first.

Tim gave Hal all of their streaming passwords to piss Bruce off. Hal proceeded to make his own profiles because he fears nothing, so Bruce changed all of his profile names to “Parasite.” Since then, it’s turned into an all-out war of renaming Hal’s profile every time they’re using it.

Highlights so far have included Sugar Baby, Freeloader, Ring Pop, Green Abomination, Magical Girl, Noisemaker, The Better Side Piece, and This is Your Official Eviction Notice Hal. (Bruce still hasn’t changed the passwords.)

Hal: You need to let go of your fear, Bats. Let’s do a simple breathing exercise. Bruce: I am breathing. Hal: No, like calming breaths. Follow my lead, okay? In- no, not that fast. Maybe close your eyes first. In…and out-No. No. Are you having a panic attack? Do I need to call someone?

For one mission, a few other JL members had to go undercover as couples. Bruce and Hal were the spares and paired up out of necessity. To everyone’s surprise, however, they were the most convincing duo because they “bickered like an old married couple.”

Bruce: I’m growing soft, Clark. I’m weak now. Clark: You told Hal ‘Good job.’ What’s wrong with that? Bruce: It’s unprofessional! *in the other room* Hal: I think Batman just confessed his undying love to me.

They have each other’s coffee orders memorized and regularly prepare the other’s coffee for them out of habit when they’re together.

After a while, Hal stops playfully flirting with everyone and reserves it only for Bruce because he gives the best reactions.

At a ‘Thank You, Justice League’ party hosted by Bruce Wayne, Hal slips up and flirts with Bruce in his civvies, only for Brucie Wayne to flirt back without missing a beat.

Hal had to go cool down in the bathroom for a few minutes. He was not ready for that. (Bruce is so fucking smug too. He’s been waiting FOREVER to give Hal a taste of his own medicine.)

Hal, introducing Bruce to the Lantern Corp: This is my pet bat. Careful, he bites.

Bruce, introducing Hal to new JL members: This is my partner. He’s been in training for ten years.

During an important strategy meeting, Hal waves his hand around, and Bruce just sighs. “What now, Lantern?” “Your plan of attack has like four holes in it.” “Where?” Hal gestures to the areas and suggests different strategies, and suddenly Bruce is like Does anyone else think it’s hot in here?

He lies in bed that night contemplating every single life event that’s lead up to Hal Fucking Jordan turning him on with his impeccable battle strategy.

Barry: I think Batman’s mad at me. He didn’t even react when I told him about the great rescue mission from last week. Hal: What do you mean? He was smiling the whole time. Barry: His face didn’t move an inch. Hal: You didn’t notice the lip twitch?

Batman has blackmail material on every single Justice League member, but only Hal has blackmail material on Bruce and the guts to use it. (Hal knows Bruce gets pedicures for fun. And he gets little designs on his toes too.)

Arthur: So when did you and Green Lantern start….you know. Bruce: No, I do not. What did we start? Arthur: You know what?! I think I forgot to walk my fish. Bye!

*Barry sees Hal with a hickey while they’re drinking coffee* Barry, jokingly: Did Bruce give you that? Hal: Yes, actually. How’d you know? Barry, backing away frantically: Oh okay, cool! Okay okay. Cool. Cool cool cool. Okay. Bruce, entering: What’s with him? Hal: I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to like the mug you bought me, though.

The JL has a betting pool called “BatLantern FMK” where they bet on which will happen first: will they fuck, marry, or kill each other?

Only Clark, Diana, and J’onn know that one of them happened already

[senanatheskenana]

Being Their Soul Mate <3

Tanjirou, Zenitsu, Inosuke x reader (separate)

Tanjirou Kamado

From the moment you got close enough for Tanjirou to smell, he knew you were his soul mate. And before you know it, he's sprinting towards you, following the perfect smell. He stops in front of you, blushing like a fool from head to toe.

You can feel the pull towards him, even without an introduction. Your eyes can hardly leave each other, basking in the overwhelming silence. You smile at him, your own cheeks tinted pink, holding out your hand to him. He jumps out of his daze and grips your hand enthusiastically, bringing it to his lips to place a heartfelt kiss on your knuckles.

"I'm sorry to be so forward, i really should have introduced myself before. Please forgive me!" he bows deeply- so deeply you think his head may hit the floor. You fight back a sheepish laugh, shaking your head.

"My name is Tanjirou Kamado, it's beyond a pleasure to meet you," he still holds your hand carefully, loose enough for you to pull it away should you desire to. You don't.

"I'm (f/n) (l/n). I never imagined my soul mate to be as sweet as you, Tanjirou," you can see how his face turns even redder at your words, stuttering out broken sentences.

You gently squeeze his hand, "Did you want to join me on my walk? we have a lot to talk about, I feel"

He nods eagerly, letting you pull him through the streets, all while staring bashfully at the way your hair sways as you move. He thinks he might already be in love.

Zenitsu Agatsuma

'Marry me!'

Those were the words inked into your wrist. A brash, scribbling handwriting. Admittedly you were worried about the circumstances of you meeting your soul mate, given the intense first words.

Evidently, the situation was not nearly as sad as you worried it could be. You weren't being married off, no.

Your soul mate was just super weird.

You shake your leg, hoping to remove the boy from his hold. He's sobbing on the floor, mumbling incoherent pleas at you, still shaken up from the demon he would have been attacked by, had you not struck.

"W-what the hell? You can't just spring that on someone!" you squeal. Finally, he lets go, a look of shock on his face. A moment later a shockingly warm sensation takes over the two of you. You grip your wrist, and he scratches at his shoulder, letting out yelps of 'ouchies'

You look down at your wrist to see the letters glowing gold, pulsing against your bones. Zenitsu gazes up at you momentarily before bawling and returning to clinging onto your legs. You take the time to help him up while his two friends watch in confusion and embarrassment at his actions.

He holds both of your hands and brings them to his cheeks, and you can feel how hot his face is. "Y-you're my soul mate. That means you have to marry me"

You sigh but smile. At least he was enthusiastic, you guessed.

"Maybe let's just start with a date and we can go from there" His tears disappear at your words, replaced by a gigantic smile, not even you can resist.

Inosuke Hashibira

For as long as Inosuke can remember, he's had the name (f/n) (l/n) engraved into his collarbone. Too bad he couldn't read it without Tanjirou's help.

"(f/n) (l/n)..." Tanjirou taps his chin in thought for a moment before gasping, "I got it- that's the ice pillar's name! "

Zenitsu fawns at the idea, "Wow, imagine having a soul mate strong enough to be a Hashira"

He hears the word strong and immediately puffs out his chest, "If they're strong, I'm gonna beat 'em!" Tanjirou now realises that Inosuke doesn't know the concept of Soul Mates.

By the time he tries to explain it, the boy is sprinting through the courtyard, dodging pillars and kakushi.

"Inosuke-" Tanjirou cannot finish his mortified plea.

"ICE HASHIRA COME HERE AND FIGHT ME!" everyone turns towards him in shock and confusion.

"Don't be so loud! if you really wanna see them, they're sitting on that bench" Sanemi scowls at the group of boys, making Tanjirou blanch, uttering apologies.

You're peacefully lying across the bench, nose planted firmly in your book when a shadow falls over you. Slowly you gaze up at the man towering over you before moving to sit up straight.

You recognise the boy in the checkered haori, smiling "Hello Tanjirou. It's nice to see you again. Are these your friends"

Before a smiling Tanjirou can respond, Inosuke brings his sword down beside your hand.

"FIGHT ME!" his face flushes with blood as he seethes under his mask.

You give him a serene smile, "I'm sorry but I believe it would be dangerous for you if I were to fight back."

He pays no mind and swings his sword above him. He looks down only to find you gone in the blink of an eye. In less than three seconds, his katanas are wrenched out of his hands as he is pinned to the ground.

Tanjirou gasps at the embarrassingly short battle- if you could call it such. "Inosuke! Are you both alright?"

'Inosuke?'

You glance down at the man under your foot, "Is your name Inosuke Hashibira?" you ask as calmly as ever, gently releasing him from the hold.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" he scowls under his mask. He doesn't know why he's so nervous around you but it's pissing him off.

"My name is (y/n), the ice Hashira," your smile has an unanticipated calming effect on inosuke, "it would seem we are soul mates"

he blushes at your giggle, still not understanding what a soul mate is. He looks at Tanjirou for help, who sighs.

It was going to be an agonising conversation. He drags the boar boy away, inosuke still staring at you as you wave them goodbye. He wouldn't admit that he missed you already.

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! Could you do a Bodyguard!James Potter x reader where he is guarding her during a high profile event and something happens? With a bit of angst to fluff? If you’re comfortable of course! I hope you have a wonderful day, i’m new to your page and ADORED your bodyguard james. <3

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: guns, shooting

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You shift your stance a bit and have to bite down on a whimper. 

“I’m going to have to throw these shoes out after this,” you mutter to James. “I’m pretty sure there’s blood pooling around my toes.” 

“You wanna take them off?” he murmurs back, lips barely moving as he keeps his face in a mask of businesslike impassivity. 

You sigh. “I wish.” 

“You could. Just step out of them, no one’s looking over here.” 

It’s true. Every camera in the chamber is pointed to where your mom stands on the podium, her right hand raised as she takes her oath. As much as you hate coming to these things, you can’t ignore the kernel of pride shining behind your sternum. She’s waited so long for this day, dealt with so much opposition, and now she’s finally going to be able to enact some real change. You can keep up appearances for her. 

“I’d better not risk it,” you tell James. “With my luck, the second I do—” 

You’re on the ground before you even register the sound of glass shattering. James’ grip on your shoulder is harsh, almost painful, but the noise that follows has enough adrenaline spiking your bloodstream to forget about that. The loud, rapid popping of gunfire fills the chamber. 

James’ hand moves to clasp around your elbow, but you tear away from him, headed in the opposite direction. The podium is empty. Where’s your mom? Did they get her already? Is she hurt? Did she—

You’re not fast enough to outpace James, definitely not limping around in your heels, and he gets an arm around your waist, hauling you away from the center aisle. You can’t tell where the gunfire is coming from—who has the guns?—but he pushes your head down before you can look. A low buzzing burrows into your ears. You try again to go to where you last saw your mom, but James yanks you back to his side, a cutting “Stop” hissing past his lips. Any other time, a tone like that would have you stilling like a frightened bunny, but you know he’s not the danger here. 

When you don’t listen, he lifts you off the ground. The crowd is swarming, frantic and disorganized, but James maneuvers through it expertly, running down the hall until he finds an unlocked door. The bathroom door swings open for you, and James sets you down quickly, locking it before you have a second to recover. 

You lunge for the door anyway, only for twin bands to wrap around your middle. They pin your arms to your sides and press you securely to James’ front. 

“Stop. Stop it.” His tone is as hard as his grip, dispassionate to your struggling. “You cannot fight me when you’re in danger, understand?” 

“They’re not here for me,” you plead. Your voice is scratchy with desperation. 

“No, but I am. I’m here for you.” His hold tightens, but now it’s less a restraint than a comfort. You can feel his heavy breaths tickling past your ear. “Your mom has her own detail, okay? She made it out before we did, they probably have her somewhere safe.” 

Now you can hear your breathing too. Short, stilted pants that wheeze in and out of you. You think you might be shaking. 

“That’s enough,” James says gently, starting to lower you both to the ground. Your knees give easily, relinquishing your weight to his hold until he settles you both on the tiled floor. “That’s enough, alright? Can I let you go now?” 

You’re not sure you want him to anymore, but you nod. He slips out from behind you, checking the lock on the bathroom door and then removing his gun from the holster at his hip. The sight of it makes your trembling worsen. He checks something with it while murmuring to the people on the other end of his earpiece, convoluted jargon you’ve long since ceased paying attention to. 

“She’s fine,” he says after a minute. “Your mom. They got her into an office, and now we’re all just waiting for security to clear the building before we can go.” 

You drop your head to your knees, relief like a tidal wave washing over you. You hear James’ footsteps move back toward you before his big hand lands on your head. It smooths down your hair as he squats next to you. When you glance at his gun balanced on his knee, he catches the look. 

“I have to keep this out for now,” he says, looking you in your eyes like he’s making a promise, “but the safety’s staying on unless someone tries to come in here. Okay?” 

“Yeah.” You nod, still trying to get your breathing under control. 

James strokes your head again, his touch weighty and reassuring. The noise outside of the bathroom seems to be lessening, but you’re not sure how much sound is blocked by the door. There could be shooting still happening just past it, people hurt or dying in the halls. 

“I’m sorry for fighting you so hard,” you say quietly. 

James blows out a breath. “I get it,” he admits. “In those situations, it’s natural to freak out and head toward the person you want to keep safe.” He flashes you a little smile. “I’m lucky it’s already my job to do that.” You grimace back, but his expression grows serious again when he says, “You just have to keep your head, though, you know? The whole reason you and your mom have protection is to make sure someone else is already looking out for you. You don’t need to worry about her, you just need to trust me.” 

You look at him. His body is still taut, ready for a fight if one comes to him, but his expression is gentle. It’s easy to forget it’s his job to take care of you when he seems to do it so naturally. Caring emanates from James like it’s the core component of his soul. 

“I do trust you,” you tell him. 

His mouth slants, expression unbearably fond. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll work on those instincts, okay? I get that it’s not an easy adjustment to make.” 

“Have you ever had to do that? Run away from the person you cared about the most?” 

He shakes his head. “Like I said, I’m lucky. I always get to run towards you.”

[first-edition]

if you still take requests and ofc if you're willing to, could you please do a one shot of sandor clegane x f reader with lactation kink? like they're married & he survived (post got) and have children - type of scenario?🤍

OFCOURSE omg. Firstly thank you to @dat1angel aka my bestie for helping me figure this out as I’ve never wrote a lactation kink fic before but it was fun.

MINORS DNI

Cw- pinv unprotected, fem reader, pregnant reader, lactation kink, consumption of human milk, Husband a wife ,mother and father , with little plot, not proof reader sorry for any error as usual i write this shit at 3 am usually lol.

I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

Sandor holds your waist as you grind against him. His cock has been buried in your cunt for over an hour and just being able to watch you riding him is enough to keep him hard and cum better than he ever has.

You’ve had the greatest honor in giving him two sons both of which are old enough to be riding thier own horses and exploring the village under the supervision of the guards you have at the castle and that is where they are now. Exploring the village as the festival goes on.

You’ve become pregnant with sanders third child only a few months ago your belly every growing as you prepare to give birth once again. Sandro cannot help the fact that he is utterly obsessed with your plump state. How you flesh grows softer and your body becomes rounder in support of the little life he helped create inside you.

Any chance he gets he. Has you strip and dance for him the new baby fat perfectly giving you more curves than before. Even now as he groans under you his large hand grips the flesh of your waist once in a while giving your apple ass a slap causing your cunt to clench around him as you jump.

You open your eyes only to see him lustfully starring back at you his hand exploring your sides feelign every inch of you. His actions and look of adoration makes you smile but that smile fade when you feel liquid secrete from your breast your face reddens as cover your chest gasps about to get off your husband in embarrassment.

But he grips you still and sits you looking you square in the eyes before he runs his thumb over your hardened nipple taking your breast into hand.

“Fuck…we cant let this go to wast now can we.” He speaks before dipping down and licking the liquid off. The sweet taste of your milk coating his tounge as he moves to the other.

He groans as he sucks on it wanting more. You moan out as he then turns your both over so he’s on top only to pull his lips away for one second to being fucking up into you relentlessly your tits begin bouncing up as he does.

He grips one and massages it causing more milk to seep out. He quickly laps it up and does the same with the other. Somehow keeping control as he roughly fucks you. Drinking up your sweet nectar. You clown at him and moan out as he continues to stimulate you.

“Fuck you taste like gold!” He groans deeply continuing to feast.

“Ah-ah s-Sandor i-“ you trail off as your toes curl and your pussy clenches. The sensation of your orgasm washed over you in shock causing your back to arch only giving your husband better access to your breasts.

Moments later his thrusts falter and hes cumming up in you making sure you get all of his seed despite being currently pregnant.

You pant as you stay in place for a moment. Sandro comes off your boob with a light ‘pop’ you look to him as his lips and chin are coated in a sheen as he licks off the access. You glance down at your chest seeing it littered with mini bruises from his rough suckling.

You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him too you kissing his lips deeply tasting your own on him. And fuck he was right.

You do taste like gold.

MY REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN SEND A NOTE IF INTERESTED.

[lightseoul]

Congratulations!!! 🎉🎊 How about #5? 🫣

thank you, love! tagging also @tsunderelover07; thank you for playing <3

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

warnings. includes themes concerning depression; negative affect in general. read at your own risk.

5. "I'M NOT LEAVING SO GET USED TO ME." (1.3k)

ever since who-knows-when, the goal has always been simple.

pain alleviation.

at least, in theory, it sounds simple. when you think about it, it’s nothing like the seemingly insurmountable task of getting a master’s degree, neither is it as grandiose as finally finding a partner and settling down.

but for someone like you?

well, it’s the best you can muster on most if not all, days, really.

and today’s a textbook example of that.

you squint at the small text displayed on your phone screen, the blue light hurting your eyes in the darkness that’s enveloping the entirety of your studio unit. the clock reads 6:08 PM, but the lack of light cannot be credited to the sun’s waning presence—your black-out curtains have been drawn since, what… yesterday?

the past few days have gone by in a complete blur, you’ve lost track of which day it is.

you’re about to put your phone down in favor of stewing in your bed and debating whether or not you have the energy to order yourself some dinner when your phone chimes its familiar ringtone, indicating a text message.

picking it up, you recognize the id right away.

(6:09 PM) katsuki💥: Omw. Want me to pick anything up by the store?

shit.

now you know it’s a friday.

mustering the little strength you have left, you type out a reply as quickly as you can. before you can think twice about what you just wrote down, you hit send.

(6:10 PM) you: actually, can i take a rain check? i don’t think i’m the best company rn.

sighing, you finally place your device beside you, opting to stare at the off-white ceiling.

you hope bakugou actually listens to you for once and doesn’t press like he usually does. when you first met him in the same agency you both interned for three years ago, you instantly caught wind of how mind-bogglingly stubborn the guy is. but it wasn’t until you became great friends, strangely enough, that you realized the extent of his tenacity. you never thought you’d end up being best friends with the budding hero you found yourself disliking since day—

your train of thought is rudely interrupted by your stomach growling, and you decide then and there that the one thing you can do to alleviate your pain for today is to feed yourself.

you repress the urge to groan in pain as you slowly sit up and move to shimmy your feet into your slippers.

but you don’t even get to reach your kitchen when the telltale sound of your lock clicking echoes through your foyer, almost instantly followed by the door bursting wide open.

you know you should be alarmed, but there’s only one person who can and has the audacity to use your sole spare key without your explicit permission.

still, you don’t fight the frown that takes over your face as you haul yourself to the doorway, watching the man closely as he toes off his trainers and puts them neatly beside your everyday sandals, nonchalant as ever.

“i thought i told you i’m taking a rain check,” you immediately cringe at how rough your voice sounds from unuse.

bakugou stands upright, placing what looks like a bag of groceries on top of your kitchen counter before rounding you and approaching the windows like he owns the place.

“you asked me if you can,” he shoots back as he opens your curtains. “the answer is no.”

a familiar surge of anger pulses through your body. you clench your fists in an attempt to ground yourself—you know from experience that mouthing off on your best friend would do nothing to lessen your pain even if it seems oh-so appealing at the moment.

“…well, don’t expect me to host you. i actually had other plans tonight.”

“is that so?” comes his signature snarky reply, the man turning to regard you. “does your plan include starving yourself ‘til you fall asleep?”

your frown deepens. “i was just about to order dinner before you showed up.” you debate for a second whether you should say the next thing, ultimately deciding fuck it. “now i don’t have an appetite anymore.”

that was a blatant lie. you’re famished, but he doesn’t need to know that. you just needed to be alone right now.

bakugou’s face hardens at your retort. his jaw clenches ever so slightly, in a way that tells you he’s trying to be patient but is getting frustrated.

when he doesn’t say anything, you shuffle back to your bed and sit on the edge of it, ready to wait him out on his exit.

but bakugou katsuki isn’t anything if not stubborn.

“i heard from mina you called in sick again today,” comes his gruff voice.

damn your closest girl friend turned co-worker and her running mouth.

“so?”

bakugou sighs from where he’s now standing in front of and looking at you. “how many leaves do you have left?”

at the mention of it, your stomach drops in dread. an all-too-familiar pulse of anxiety also shoots through your veins. “…two.”

two sick leaves left, and it’s only motherfucking july.

silence befalls the two of you, but it’s not the comfortable kind that usually lulls you both whenever you’re alone in each other’s presence. no, this quiet is borderline irritating, and you can practically hear the gears turning in the man’s head as he processes the fact you’ve been trying to grapple with yourself for the last few weeks now.

the fact that you’re absolutely fucked.

before he can comment on your situation or say anything uselessly placating, you pipe up. “but don’t worry about me. i know you have a lot on your plate right now.”

at that, bakugou scoffs, and your features instinctively contort in annoyance at the sound.

you’re trying to be nice, for god’s sake. something that takes so much of you lately when it used to come naturally your whole life.

you purse your lips in a tight line. “look, if you’re just gonna keep on being an asshole, it’s better if you just leave.”

instead of turning a 180 and giving you your solitude, however, bakugou crouches down on his knees until you’re face to face.

you suddenly become acutely aware of the fact that you haven’t washed your face nor brushed your teeth since yesterday. despite your exasperation with the guy, you hope he doesn’t notice.

if he is noticing, though, he doesn’t mention it. instead, he reaches out and uncharacteristically gently brushes out a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“i’m not leaving, so get used to me.”

with that, he moves to stand up and maybe make his way to the kitchen to cook you dinner, but your reflexes work fast enough for you to grab his wrist before he's out of reach.

bakugou freezes in his tracks, eyes drifting from the grip you have on him to your face, a confused expression etched on his features.

“…just leave, kats,” you barely manage to get out, unable to meet his gaze. “i’m really not the best company right now.”

you brace yourself for another scoff over which you were absolutely going to smack him, but it doesn’t come. instead, bakugou merely coaxes his wrist from your hold before clasping your hands together.

you look up at your best friend, stunned at the rare gesture.

his face is solemn and grip firm when he replies. “don’t i get to be the judge of that?”

[persicipen]

𑑛 “KEEP AN EYE ON ME” ﾉ WRIOTHESLEY. GENSHIN IMPACT

performer gn reader ﾉ words 1.0k ᯽ bodyguard wriothesley. reader goes on stage — no specifics, so technically it’s still canon au and could be a singer, a dancer, an idol. very suggestive with explicit language but it’s only teased once ﾉ rewritten (old request) because i saw mooties talking about this :3 ᯽ SUGGESTIVE CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

Wriothesley shifts nervously from one leg to another, trying to shake off the itch of an unspecified feeling. Hand brushing through the hair, hoping to gather back his thoughts just like the matted greying strands, but to no avail. You’re not leaving his head, your mirrored silhouette sparkling in his silver eyes.

The way you move, hips swinging to the side and down just as the music gets low, makes him gulp down and blink. He has to make sure he’s not imagining it, for it feels too good to be true.

Then, with a pop, you break out of your routine, the special dance you had trained repeatedly in secret exclusively to surprise the crowd tonight, all while never going against the melody nor losing the perfect rhythm. He’s amazed by your ability to become one with the sound, something he could only dream about.

He’s just here to observe you, but other than that — any possible interruptions or unpleasant events, such as nagging fans or worse. Standing still, silent, and leaning on the wall behind the scene where he can get just a glimpse of the grand performance; he’s cautious. Only pretending to be relaxed, a small part of him is enchanted and enjoying your view while the rest is ready to act. Just in case. He never wishes for anything to happen. The less work there is for him to do, the better for everyone around him.

Yet he lets his mind wander to what-ifs. His fingers tap lightly against the metal buckle of his pants, playing with the leather strap on the side of his thigh. How would you move to a slower song? Does your body still find harmony with this kind of cadence too?

Of course, it does. It has to.

You’re so hardworking, there’s probably nothing you wouldn’t be able to do. But currently in promotion are more dynamic performances, and you have to bounce across the stage, elegant and beautiful like the sight of a deer in the forest — almost magical if not for the heavy instruments buzzing through all the surfaces.

Despite everything, the shine in your eyes and the curve of your smile remain unmoving as ever. You’re captivating, stealing hearts and bringing people to tears of joy. You’re a star that gives them all the happiness they need.

And he’s no different. He sees you as the perfect being. It doesn’t matter if it’s the persona you use on the stage or the one that becomes you when you slump against him after every exhausting performance, mumbling how proud you feel and ranting about the soreness of your body, and other stuff like that. Truly, just incoherent babbling — but he loves to hear everything, making sure at the same time that you two won’t get caught by any pair of prying eyes.

(He always thinks about that, so you don’t have to.)

As the mood slightly changes, the tunes mellow down. Not as much as Wriothesley would love to hear, that would be too good — and you bend down on your knees as you prepare for the next piece. It’s the one he called the sexy one when you were sharing the plan with him a few weeks ago, something you giggled away and shushed him immediately, not wanting to agree out loud.

But it was true. And the live dance was no better.

So now he has to endure watching you twirl on your toes, arching your back, sliding your hands along the curves of your body, all that sensual shit that drives him crazy and yet— and yet he cannot do anything about it, just taking the spectacle as it is, so thrilled to be able to see it from a different perspective.

It’s almost burning, this feeling inside, as his thoughts involuntarily drift off towards lustful imagination. Could it be possible to ask you to do the same move that you just did, but right in front of him? Or maybe even on his lap, the one where you crouch down innocently just to act provocatively once again?

Damn, that would be so hot. He has to clench his fist to calm down and return to the present moment.

When you at last walk offstage after another successful performance, your footsteps sound strangely satisfying as they click-clack down the corridor. There is no doubt about the fatigue and thirst in your expression, yet he has a feeling that you wouldn’t ask for a break aside from a quick few minutes to cool down and change your outfit.

Sweat glistens on your skin, sticking to your hair, making you sparkle in the harsh lights of the changing room. You’re beautiful like that; it’s the sweat of success and because you’re doing something you love. It’s not the same sweat when you stress over something or get sick and have to stay wrapped in hot blankets to fight off the illness.

Nonetheless, it feels nasty, so you quickly grab a towel and hug it closely, tapping gently on your face so as not to ruin your makeup. The cool and soft fabric works wonders on your excited body.

You tell the others it’s just a quick trip to the bathroom, while in reality, you glance towards your bodyguard, and that’s all he needs to know. He thinks that if you could only give him even a light kiss on the cheek, that would be enough, that would make him happy and fill him with a new surge of motivation. Oh, that would be so great.

But everything is different…

As soon as there are just the two of you, he pulls you close, failing to control his rapturing emotions. No, of course, he will not do anything stupid now — you only have a minute or so for him, but he wished for it to be untrue. His lips barely graze against your temple, leaving a tender peck there; you hear his low and velvety voice whisper right into your ear some words.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard later tonight…”

And that’s the only praise that makes you genuinely know that you did exceptionally well on the stage.

[giuliettagaltieri]

Swarm of Bees

Pairing: Fiancé!Gojō x Fiancée!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Gojō Satoru gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warning: angst, arranged marriage, age gap, hints of dacryphilia, Gojō is a bully at heart.

Word Count: 1596

3 of 9

There are many things that Gojō Satoru hates.

One, the higher ups of the jujutsu society.

Two, when people say “No offense, but…” And proceed to insult him.

Three, people who get in his way.

And four, when he is not getting the attention he deserves.

In the past few years, Gojō has been working as a teacher in the Jujutsu High.  He still leaves for missions, it was only expected as he is the strongest sorcerer.  But he stays in the school quite often compared to when he was a field sorcerer.

And quite frankly, he expected more visits from a certain someone.

But he never got them anymore.

Shoko would often put out her cigarette to drop her face on her palms whenever Gojō talks about this.  And he cannot understand why she does that.

From time to time, he receives gifts from you.  But no more letters.  Nothing that adds a personal touch from you.  Just food.  As if you’re sending them so he won’t forget you existed.

But if he were to be asked, forgetting you was impossible as your time to be wedded comes closer and closer.

And now, you are celebrating your 20th naming day.

You turned into a beautiful young lady.  Truly worthy of him. 

But much to his aggravation, it seems like many took notice of your change too.

Men from different clans were hovering over you. 

Greeting you, complimenting you about the simplest of things.  It made something inside him itch and it bothered him to no end.

They only liked you now because you turned out to be a well-polished woman.  They did not see you with snot on your nose as you wailed after scraping your knee, which he absolutely had no involvement whatsoever or when your face bubbled like a squirrel when you did not get your way.

“You’re pouting.”  Shoko comments as she sips on her glass of champagne.

The celebration was at its peak.  The musical ensemble was playing a lively tune and gossips and giggles were filling the floral air of your estate house.

And you, the center of the event.

Almost every pair of eyes were on you.

Gone was the shy little lady of your house.  You are now a woman who is ready to take her first steps into society.  You were like a fresh fruit, ripe for the taking.  Had it not been for Gojō’s presence, many insolent men would have asked, no, begged for your hand right then.

Your hair glittered with every turn of your head.  Your painted lips curving up to a perfect smile whenever a gentleman compliments you.  Yet the innocent smile is always paired with the haughty spark in your eyes as you decline their offer to dance.

It was the fourth time that you declined an offer in the same hour.

And Gojō Satoru cannot stand to watch such blatant disrespect any longer.

Both Shoko and Nanami follow him with their watching eyes as he makes his way to you.  Their feet are ready to move as soon as the man makes a fool of himself or starts a fit in the middle of your perfect evening.  Or both.

They were at the edge of their seats when Gojō clears his throat to catch your attention.  The two of them watch very closely for any sudden movement from any of you.

But like fluid from the most graceful of waterfalls, you rise from your seat, standing on the tip of your toes to lean on Gojō’s chest.

All breaths halted at your action, including the man you were smiling up to.  His crystalline blue eyes watching you, almost calculating your every move.  But you smile slyly at him as your fingers trace his jaw and your lips find his cheek.

“I am delighted to see you.  But I am terribly sorry Gojō-sama, I would have to decline.”  Your thumb caresses his cold cheek.  “My dance card is full for the evening.”

Like a nymph, you slide away from him to accept the hand of a young man who was waiting for you.  And Gojō can only watch as you are being guided to the center of the floor.  

And you danced so beautifully.

The itch turned into a burn.  And Gojō had to sit the entire evening with such sensation nesting in his chest, almost clawing out into a form of aggression.

Whenever your dance partner spins you or their gloved hands wander closely to your bottom, Gojō has to quell the urge to pummel them to the ground.  He did not quite understand the urge to do so.  But after having the feeling for the rest of the night, he has come to terms with it.  Given up on trying to understand the impulse and just settled with the idea that every man who speaks with you is disrespecting him.

And you.

Oh, he is so cross with you.

How dare you fill in your dance card without reserving even a single dance for him.  Have you forgotten that you are betrothed to him?  Or do you just fancy the little game you are playing?  Acting as if he is not around.

The clock hand tells that the night was no longer young.  But you were still being twirled around in the middle of the dance hall.  It was your final dance for the evening.  And by the slight delay in your steps, he is well aware that you are exhausted from dancing for hours.

By the time the last note travels through the air, Gojō was already on his feet and marching towards you. 

You took no notice of course as you were smiling brightly at your dance partner as he bowed to place a kiss on your gloved hand.

But before his lips could touch you, Gojō Satoru unceremoniously grabs you by your midriff and carries you like a mannequin being set up for display.

Your startled squeal catches the attention of every person in the room and they watch as you wrap your arms around your fiancé’s neck in panic.

As the man carries you and disappears behind the doors to your garden, the chatter resumes but now, soft smiles are gracing the lips of every attendee.

They have been granted the front row seats to watch your game of push and pull with the strongest sorcerer.  Some of them have been watching ever since before you learned to walk.

It brought them great joy to see the man finally taking an action to claim you as his woman.

You, on the other hand, have your heart beating wildly on your chest.

Have you pushed too far?

Has your act of refusing his offer to dance been too much of a blow to his pride?

When Gojō places you down, you also pull your arms back to your sides.  You do not want to meet his eyes.  No, not at all.

“Sit.”

You still instinctively look up at him though.  “Huh?”

He gestures to the bench behind you.  “I said, sit.”

Immediately, you pull at your dress to smoothen the fabric as you sit down.  You did not appreciate how the act made you even smaller compared to his full height.

Your fingers twiddle with each other to release some of the budding nervousness in your chest.

“I-I am terribly sorry if I upset you, Gojō-sama.”  You stammer.

There you are.

A smirk finds itself on Gojō's lips.  You haven’t changed one bit.  You were only brave when there were other people around but you are the same shy little girl that he knew the moment you were alone.

He kneels before you to look you in the eye.  “Upset me? Whatever do you mean, my love?”  His tone was dark and dangerous despite him smiling playfully at you. 

You wanted to cry.

And his smile widens when your eyes turn glassy just as your lips wobble.

He just watched your suffering, willing yourself to hold back the tears.  Just as you thought you'd break, he clicks his tongue and digs through the poof of your gown to take off your sandals.

And as he expected, blisters covered your dainty feet.

“How were you dancing so beautifully with such discomfort.”  He says with his voice grim.

You can only watch him as his hands work on healing your wounds.

At times like this, you feel the safest.  As if nothing in the world could harm you.

And without much thinking, your hands cup his cheek.  And Gojō looks at you with still a tiny frown by his eyebrows.

“Are you upset with me?”  You ask with your voice barely above a whisper.

“That depends.  Are you done with your ruse?”  He cocks an eyebrow and you nod shyly.  “Then we’re good.”

“Will you dance with me now?” 

When you smile at him so softly, how can he say no?

But to your surprise, the man grabs you by your waist, lifts you up until your now healed feet are stepping on his shoes.

You hastily tried to get off but he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Stay.”

It was a simple command but you find yourself surrendering all that you are to him.

Your hands find themselves resting atop his shoulders and with the echoes of the music spilling to the dim garden, Gojō Satoru makes you feel as if you too were honored throughout heaven and earth, simply because he had you in his arms and he was swaying you to the faintest of melodies.

Where the Blue Roses Grow

[c4ttheart]

3 times you were embarrassed (vulnerable) near yuta and one time it didn’t feel all that bad (yuta okkotsu x gn!reader wc 2.1k)

reader is a bit clueless and emotionally constipated bc that is my fav trope w yuta, mentions of animal death reader speaks in italics incase it isn’t clear enough

« i saw a dying bird on my way to class this morning. »

yuta quirks an eyebrow, unsure of where the conversation is leading or why you’re even speaking to him in the first place.

« it reminded me of you. » you continue, as the boy next to you chokes on his drink. you scoff and wipe away the droplets that have landed on your shirt and glare at him.

his cheeks are flushed with embarrassment from the harshness of your stare, yet he does not speak up. he is way too afraid to do so.

you lean back against the stairs you are resting on, watching as maki flings her weapon into the air with precision. it seems she has started to warm up to yuta, considering how their practice sessions have become less agressive. you are the only one here who has yet to get to know him, but somehow, you cannot. your way of introducing yourself is speaking about dead animals, something that would make gojo call you emotionally constipated if he was here.

« uhm, how so ? » yuta asks, carefully, as if he’s afraid of angering you.

you sigh, making him tense up. « it was weak and useless, but nevertheless, it was trying it’s best to survive. and i realised that i was not helping, being but a simple bypasser. »

you look at him, while he holds your stare quizzically.

« i’ll try to not make your survival as harsh from now on. » is your conclusion, and your body silently fights itself to not run away from embarrassment. you think this is the kindest you have ever been to someone, and it makes you want to curl your toes and clench your teeth. yuta smiles kindly in response, with eyes so empathetic it makes your breath hitch. he looks like he understands what you’re trying to say and how hard it is for you to say it, but before he can answer, he is pulled to the side by maki, meaning his break is officially over.

he waves goodbye to you, and you watch him leave. you do not wave back, but you do not look away.

( eventually, some time later, you do let your walls down and call yuta your friend. )

it is late at night when he finds you, sitting outside like you always do.

« hey. » he mumbles, cold nibbling at his skin.

you look at him only.

yuta sits himself on the bench next to you, bringing his knees up to his chest to keep the warmth flowing in his body. you do not speak, so neither does he.

the trees rustle together from the breeze and you do not shiver even though he can see the slight chicken pox forming on the skin of your arm, the one that is not covered by your pyjama.

you have the same eyes as his mother, he realises. the one that are always empty, staring at something unattainable in the distance. the ones that are so deep they look like they could hold the ocean in them and never let go. yuta thinks you probably have never cried. or else your eyes would be a little less vast.

you sigh when you catch his stare, but it has a hint of something happier.

« i used to hate you, y’know. » you mumble, observing the way your legs swing back and forth. he nods.

he fiddles with his fingers as he opens his mouth, « why ? », he asks, so careful, like he has always been around you.

you hum in satisfaction when you hear the answer you were expecting, but you do not reply. you furrow your brows and he notices, gently placing his hand on your shoulder. (although he immediately flinches and moves away when you turn to look at him.)

emotions have never been your forte. speaking about them is worse. but then you see his face, so curious yet so scared and you remember the bird, that if you had let it die you would’ve been an accomplice in its murder. you think of how you helped it spread its wings till it was ready to break the shackle surrounding them. you remember that he is him, and yuta would never hurt you the way you hurt yourself. so you let out a small smile and intertwine your pinkies because his hand is moist and it feels a little too warm around your shoulder but you get too cold without him.

« i hate change. you represented that. »

the rest of the night was a blur. you talked back and forth without a sense of direction, about things you have now forgotten. but you remember walking back with the weight under your eyes heavier than the one on your shoulders and you heart beating but the tiniest bit faster.

« you could always choose to stay. »

you were the last person he broke the news to. like he was delaying the inevitable, as if he was afraid of what you would react.

yuta gulps, watching as you sort through a pile of paper from your classes. you do not say anything else, but you do not look at him. it seems as if, for once, the ocean wishes to feel more than just the sand.

« (name)..? » he speaks again, but you do not waver. you do not turn your neck to look at him. you keep on going like he was never here in the first place.

there are three piles in total on the floor. the main one, that you are sorting into two: one he presumes you want to keep, and the other you’re throwing away, considering how it is primarily composed of ripped off notebook pages with various doodles inked on them. but he realises that you are not sorting them anymore. you are throwing your papers into random piles, without even looking at them first. a frown tugs at his lips. it is your way of making him leave, of telling him you’re busy. but he wants to say goodbye.

so he sits on the floor besides you, and for once, he is the one doing the talking. « you know, just because you won’t acknowledge it doesn’t mean it isn’t real. » he starts, and your hands freeze.

he intertwines your pinkies together, because you are touch starved but you don’t like to admit it.

« i’m leaving, (name), but that doesn’t mean i’m not coming back. »

« how far ? » you ask, eyes still cast downwards. he smiles bitterly. « close enough to come back every now and then. »

he’s lying, but you don’t have to know that just yet. you’re smart enough to figure out, but hopefully not right now.

« and hey, listen, i know you don’t like change, but sometimes it’s necessary. it’s a part of the world we live in. we’re constantly evolving. maybe its scary, but i can promise you that when i come back, you’ll never see a bird struggling to survive. » he says as he tightens the grip he has on your finger.

your eyebrows furrow. it seems a storm is coming in. your lips quiver. the waves are fighting to stay inside. yuta lets go of your hand and places his arms around your neck. you have never been hugged like this, especially not by him. tears run down your cheeks and you clutch his waist like the world depends on it. he does not complain.

« it’s okay. you can cry, i won’t look. » and he doesn’t. he doesn’t say a word as you dampen his shirt, he doesn’t move a muscle as you squeeze him. you have never cried in front of people, but you suppose this time won’t count because no one really saw your tears.

you hold on to him even after your eyes are dried up until you don’t. your grip loosens and he understands it’s time to go. he smiles, but you are not looking. you let him leave, but you do not watch.

« you’re gonna have to talk to us one day. » maki says, and although it does not seem like it, you know the tone in her voice is worry.

you nod your head and pick up your weapon, signalling to toge that you’re ready. maki huffs, and although she is persistent, she walks away as to not get hurt by your sparring session. that doesn’t mean she’s giving up.

a damp towel is flung over your shoulders and your hair is dripping all over your dorm floor when you get a call. something inside you swirls in your stomach in a delightful way as you accept.

« hey. » you say, putting your phone down as you brush your hair.

« hey, you alright ? maki told me you didn’t seem all that good. »

you hum. « yeah, how was your first week in africa ? any suffering birds yet ? »

he laughs a little, and the sound of his voice being distorted through the phone makes you frown.

he rambles on and on about his training, but you do not care. it feels like a weight has been placed upon your cheeks, and you cannot bring yourself to do anything but pout.

« yuta, maki was right. »

that makes him stop. he waits for you to continue, like it’s part of his routine whenever you speak.

«  i don’t- it’s like. my stomach hurts. i can’t smile. »

« what !? do you need medicine ? » he replies, anguished.

« i don’t know. it doesn’t feel like that. »

a little oh is heard from his side followed by small laughs.

you scoff. « this isn’t funny. i don’t even know why i’m talking to you about this. »

« uhm, right, how do you feel right now ? »

« like you should be here to train with maki. » you answer, picking up your phone again so he could hear you better.

he hums. you furrow your brows. he isn’t helping at all. panda knocks at your door, asking for your charger. you indulge him.

as he sits on the floor near your bed, you turn to face him and press your phone on mute.

« hey panda, what does it mean if i feel like yuta should be here ? »

panda looks up at you, a small grin on his face. « it means you miss him. »

you let out an ‘oh.’ in response and thank him, grabbing your phone to talk to yuta somewhere more private.

« yuta ? »

« yes ? what happened ? you were gone for a bit. »

« i miss you. »

he chuckles, and you smile.

« i miss you too. » he answers, his grin being heard through his words.

you pick at your nails, ignoring the way your heart seems to beat faster in your chest. the same way his would beat when you’d grab his wrist.

« i’m still annoyed at you for leaving, though- » you say before your sentence is cut off abruptly by yuta.

« i miss you, like, a lot. » he rushes, and your cheeks heat up. you don’t answer to that, because you don’t really know what to say.

he sighs.

« (name), i was planning on saying this a week ago but you were crying and it just wasn’t the moment and then we just weren’t able to call but one of the reasons for that actually is because i was too nervous to speak to you and god and then maki told me you weren’t well and i was just like fuck it i really couldn’t care less about what i was feeling which made me realise that i really cherish our friendship and you’re a great person and i don’t want to lose you, you know ? »

you let out a small ‘yeah’ in response, because your words are stuck in your throat and you don’t know what else to say.

he sighs again, slowly, and you realise it sounds more like he’s taking deep breaths.

« (name), whatever happens, do you promise we’ll still be friends ? »

you bite your lip. what exactly is going to happen ? why would he do something so stupid that would risk your friendship ? nevertheless, you hum.

« god, um, i love you. »

you stop breathing for a second. the speed of your heart increases, and all of a sudden, all you can do is smile.

« since when ? » you ask. this doesn’t feel real.

he hums. « i think i always have been. since the first time you talked to me. when you spoke of that bird on the sidewalk. »

« you loved me even when i failed ? like when i cried ? »

you have always hated leaving your emotions on display for people to touch. it made you weak. why would he love someone with such flaws ?

«  i mean yeah, every time you opened up you showed me a part of yourself. and i like that, knowing that i know the whole you. »

« i think- i think i love you too. »

i hatz the ending rahhh thank you to my proofreader @ownerofsix love you baba

[sexlapis]

ᡣ𐭩 nanami x gn!reader

nsfw drabble. no sex - just spanking, soft dom!nanami, gentle “brat” taming, d/s dynamics, praise, petnames, reader is stressed & anxious, crying (not sad)

-> synopsis: sometimes you just need a good ol’ spanking!

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i rushed this a lot, i was tired and wanted to post. this is filth and sweetness <3

masterlists

*

a gargled groan crawls up your throat as you fiddle with the top button of your crisp, white shirt, biting the inside of your cheek and throwing your head back.

nanami, sitting right beside you, gives you a look.

the first warning.

“now, what’s that for?”

you huff, purulent, sagging into the plastic seat and crossing your arms tightly over your chest. you pout.

in the back of your mind, you know you are being irritable, but you cannot help it. the white lights in the room are far too loud, the whirling of the air conditioner rings in your poor ears and the shirt that graces your body is too tight too tight too tight.

“my shirt is too tight.”

nanami sighs.

he looks good today. not that he doesn’t usually, but this was something else. his three-piece suit is a dark navy that’s snug on him, fitting him almost too well. your eyes trail down to his slacks - tight over his thighs and the bump of his bulge does not go unnoticed. one single strand of blond hair hangs over his forehead. it makes you dig your toes into the soles of your shoes.

the meaning of this meeting you and nanami are attending? you have forgotten. in fact, you don’t think you even knew in the first place. probably just some bullshit complaints about your teaching methods or your blunt nature. or both. when you learned that just nanami was going to be there with you, thinking was a foreign concept. because you know he would handle it all for you.

he glances at his phone, reading a notification. “i thought you said you wanted to-”

“‘wear the green one’, yeah, well that just didn’t happen, did it?”

nanami glances at you again, squinting slightly.

a second warning.

“what have we said?” nanami asks, moving closer to you. “what do we do when we’re stressed?”

“…we take three deep breaths and stay grounded in our surroundings…”

he speaks the last part in unison with you, nodding with just a small smile on his lips. “that’s right. how about we try that, see how you feel? hm?”

“ugh!” your upper body quite literally collapses onto the table. knots thaw in your chest, your hands are clammy and your heart bangs in your ear. “I don’t wanna do that crap anymore! i’d-”

the sentence barely even leaves your mouth.

hands are on your biceps in a second, essentially dragging you up out of your own seat, a gasp just leaving your mouth as you’re dragged out of the meeting room and into the nearby restroom.

the ordeal is so fast, so quick you feel winded. before you know it, you face the mirror, heavy breathes leaving your soft lips. your hips are pressed up against the ceramic sink, your fingers clutching onto the rim to stabilise yourself. nanami larger stature stands behind you, looming over, his arm wrapped around your waist keeping you still. if he’s worried or cautious about anyone walking in, he does not show it on his face or in his actions. he leans down, lips to your ear.

“what did i say? you know what the rules are.”

you whine, teeth gnawing on your poor bottom lip, looking down at your own fingers. your body is winded up, tight and tense like a spring, unable to get it to relax and give in.

your leg shakes.

nanami’s big hand slithers down your arm, cupping over yours, “the rules are there for a reason. to help you, to keep you safe. you know that. look at me please.”

you look to him immediately despite your previous disobedience. you can’t help it, can’t help but do everything he tells you. nanami is safe, he is comfort, protection and guidance. he’s what you need.

his umber eyes meet your glossy ones, gentle yet stern. soft yet firm. by this point you already know what is happening, feeling your mind and body already sinking into the place where no worries or fears are present.

nanami hums, caressing his thumb over your cheek, almost losing his mind at the dazed look in your eyes. his hands slide down further, to the front of your trousers, fiddling with the button, “i know just what you need, sweetheart,” the button is undone, along with the zip, “…just what you need.”

your knees knock together, trapped by your trousers and underwear as you are bent over the sink slightly. you moan at the position change alone.

“hmm…” nanami looks downwards, biting his lip as he admires the bare flesh of your ass, soft and just waiting to be tainted red by his calloused hands. he shifts, standing adjacent to you now.

he does not bother to warn you before he strikes.

the first one has you crying out into the empty restroom, lurching forward and clawing onto the counter. it is sharp, sudden and hard, the string already prevalent, the control you once held over your mind rippling away and all you want is more.

“that’s one,” nanami states, groping your raw cheek with one hand, “look at you, already so responsive and we’ve barely even started...

he checks your face, eyes closed, mouth open, already gone, head in the clouds from that one hit alone. “tell me your colour, sweetheart.”

“green…’s green.” your voice is breathy, weak like your limbs. being at nanami’s complete mercy, under his guidance and control does that to you.

“good. you’ll tell me if that changes.”

what follows next is a series of swats and slaps, not too hard but with just enough force for you to know that you will feel sore for a couple of hours.

each strike leaves you breathless, frazzled, your grip on the counter the only thing keeping you from going insane as the ache at your core only grows and grows. the swats are loud in the quiet of the bathroom, the sounds making your face warm and arms wobble. your falls forward between your shoulders.

it does not help that nanami keeps on talking, more than he usually does in situations like these. he rambles on about how good you’re being, how well you’re taking it for him, how soft you feel, how pretty you look with your teary eyes, how sweet you sound, how badly he wants to take you right in the restroom where anyone could walk in and see.

it’s clear that nanami is in a talkative mood.

“fuck, look at you…” he momentarily pauses his assault on your welted, reddened ass, gripping one cheek and pulling it to the side. “you’re perfect. so, so perfect.”

you grunt at his praise and your head swells up. the juxtaposition of candy-sweet words and his continuous cracks landed on the crux of your thigh and ass has your kind reeling.

small whines and whimpers escape your mouth, and with the single tear that falls down your face, nanami knows it is time to stop.

the last hit he lands is heavy, stinging, it has you garbling right as it happens.

more tears drip onto the counter as a sob takes hold of you. and then you’re being flipped around and into nanami’s embrace, prodding your face into his shoulder, trying to catch your breath and come down to earth.

nanami caresses the middle of your back, kissing the top of your head while he coos, “shh, sh, sh. you did so well. you’re so good for me, sweetheart…see how good it feels to take the edge off?” he closes his eyes. “that’s all you needed, hm?”

you shake your head, not yes or no, but nanami understands all the same.

“yeah, i know, i know.”

you both stand like that for a little while, recovering from the scene you have had with him, soothing and shushing you until you’re back to him. it is only slightly awkward for you as your pants and underwear are still at your knees but whatever. you forgot that you are even in a public place.

“we should get back to the meeting.” nanami suggests, then looks at the watch on his wrist. “i think we’re the late ones now.”

you huff, chuckling a little. nanami pecks your lips and croches, pulling up your trousers and securing them around your hips. he fixes up your obvious ruffled, messy appearance, straightening your shirt and smoothing down your hair.

nanami holds your face in his hand, swiping away tears with his thumbs. he admires your wet eyes and bitten lips, thinking that you’re at your most beautiful when you look like this - blissed out and falling back down from your high.

“how do you feel?” he asks you.

it takes you a few seconds to respond, to find the words. “…’m good…yeah, i feel- i’m good.”

“alright.”

“i want to go home now.”

“okay.”

“i also want a lot of unhealthy food for my stomach.”

“you got it.”

nanami is smiling softly at you while you try to think of any more demands you may have. when it seems to be nought, he begins slowly guiding you out of the restroom, holding you close. he is warm.

you speak, “so not meetings today?”

nanami just sighs, shaking his head, half hearted, kissing the top of your head, “no meetings today.”

[ellabsbb]

♡ྀི ༝ ₊˚ ⌒ now kith ꒱

꒰ ellie x reader x abby. 1.6k words. you make abby and ellie kith. everyone makes out. sexually charged but not actually that sexual? i think! enjoy <3

imagine dating both ellie and abby…

they live for you…. cannot stand eachother. but for you they.. well, tolerate isn’t quite the right word, because they hardly do that, but they.. let you do what you want when it comes to being with both of them. they definitely don’t hold back on arguing and fighting though. you’re getting tired of not being able to actually be with them at once, and you have just the plan.

𝜗𝜚

“oh fuck no.” that’s ellie, who’s just walked in, coming over per your request. and she’s spotted abby, who has the nerve to be chilling on her girls couch. abby really doesn’t care all that much, but she’s giving as much as she’s getting. “can we help you?” that’s abby, giving ellie that look. the one you always giggle at, the same dirty look she would give gum at the bottom of her shoe. “babe!” and that’s you! you hurry to grab ellie’s hand before she turns around to make her way back to the door. you tug her closer and wrap your arms around her, chin against her chest, peering up at her with puppy eyes and pouting lips, really pulling out all of the stops. “stay! please?” ellie sighs, wrapping her long arms around you to return the hug. “babe.. you know we don’t get along. it would be better if-” “just sit down, williams” you could hear they eyeroll from abby. ellie quickly switches her gaze from your pouty lips to glare at abby. “don’t try to tell me what to do-” “els! please. she’s just saying she doesn’t mind. right abs?” you hurry to tug ellie over to the couch before either of them can respond, pushing her down and clambering on top of her. you shoot abby a greatful smile behind ellie’s head, holding back a giggle when she playfully roles her eyes. “come on els, please. i just wanna chill with both of you. is that so bad?” it’s said to make her feel bad, make her compliant. ellie doesn’t bother with a response, just letting out a heavy sigh and begrudgingly turning her head towards the tv. it’s a win in your book. you kiss her cheek with a smile and snuggle into her side.

you’re in the middle between the two, of course. you throw your fuzzy socked feet into abby’s lap, digging your toes into her side. she raises her eyebrows at you before clamping down on your ankles with a heavy grip. “no!” you squeal with a giggle, trying to squirm your feet away, already anticipating her tickling them. “no? that’s not what you wanted?” abby asks, mockingly confused. the fun is interrupted by ellie pouting. “can you guys like, not.” she’s deadpan, her gaze not even moving away from the tv that’s playing whatever netlfix show is trending. before abby can respond you nudge her with her foot, urging her to stay quite. she gives you her famous side eye but says nothing. you shift to bring your arms around ellies neck, settling into her lap with your legs around her waist. “els cmon, don’t be like that” you lean down to mumble into her neck, placing gentle kisses along the line of her throat. trailing over her collarbone. you knew she’d be the one you’d have to butter up. “what, im supposed to sit here and watch you guys play footsie?” she’s grumbling, but breathless, turning her head so you have more access to her neck. “you can play to, you know.” you gently nip her with those words, quickly soothing the bite with your tongue and lips. “nah, i’d rather just play with you.” she cups the back of your neck with long fingers, her multiple rings cool against the flush of your skin. tilting your head up she wastes no time into practically mauling you. her tongue slides into your mouth, dominating and hot and heavy. her other arm curls around your waist and tugs you even closer, rising her thigh to push firmly between your legs. at your soft moans she smugly looks up at abby behind lidded eyes. god,she’s so cocky and annoying. abby scoffs but doesn’t break eye contact, her cheeks warming at your soft sounds. when you break away, panting, ellie looks away. she’d much rather gaze at you, all flushed, lips swollen and wet. “fuck” you say, more of a breath than a word. “let’s.” ellie’s hands drift to the bottom of your shirt. “wait! lets go to my room.”

you have them sitting on the bed across from eachother with you making the point of the triangle. “you want us to.. what?” ellie, of course. she’s looking at you like you’re insane, she probably thinks you are. abby doesn’t look surprised, she’s probably not. her face doesn’t really give away anything, if not a little amused. “els bear, please. i hate when you guys fight. i want us to be able to be together, all three of us. this will help? just gotta get past that line?” oh your really pleading now, all soft and sweet and low. “don’t els bear me!” ellie’s whining. incredulous. “wha- did you guys like, plan this?” her brows are furrowed, voice high, looking back and forth between you and abby. “no. im just not a little crybaby like you are.” abby’s had enough, you guess. ellie scoffs and you know she’s about to start a argument for the ages, so you quickly reach out and put a hand on both of their thighs. “okay okay, im sorry els. of course if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. i won’t be upset at all. and that goes for abs to. i just think you guys have some… unresolved tension… and this would help with that.” “we do not!” ellie is still whining. you look up at abby, only to find her already looking right at you. you tilt your head, inquiring. her gaze flicks to the side, considering. you gently squeeze her thigh to get her attention back on you. you slowly move your hand a little higher. please. for me? you both knew she’d have to be the one to make the first move. and you’d definitely reward her for it. god, you’d do that anyways. she’s been so good, so sweet, in her own way. so compliant in your plans. fine. she moves her attention onto ellie.

“god, shut up williams. our girl is over there all flushed and excited just from the thought of us kissing. and you wouldn’t give her that? she’d do it for you.” abby’s tone is accusing, low and predatory. she knew just how to work ellie up. ellie splutters, eyes wide. “what?” she takes a second to really look at you. your breathing is fast, excited. you’re slightly sucking at your bottom lip, releasing it from your mouth with a pop at her stare. your thighs are clenched together, nipples prominent under your thin tank top. you smile encouragingly at ellie when she meets your eyes. “i.. that’s-” again, abby interrupts ellie. “she just wants to make you happy. make us happy. you don’t want to make her happy?” ellie scoffs, but she can feel her cheeks warming. ellie finds her eyes being drawn to abby’s full smirking lips, her stare just making abby even more cocky. ellie can feel her own nipples hardening and chooses to ignore abby’s gaze flicking down to the chest of her wife pleaser, for her own sanity. “fine.” els whispers, as if it would kill her to say it any louder. “nuh uh. need you to say it williams. tell us what you want. tell her.” abby gestures to you with her head, still leveling ellie with her heavy stare. “yeah, baby?” you prompt ellie, smiling. “i… fuck. i want abby to kiss me. n want you to watch.” abby wastes no time. they were already so close. she winds her hand into the hair at the base of ellie’s neck, hard, directing her. ellie hardly gets to digest what just happened before abby’s mouth is on her own. fuck, she kisses like she’s hungry for it. starving. abby licks into ellie’s mouth, demanding her way in. ellie moans, real quite, clenching abby’s shirt in her fist. they battle for dominance, er.. well, ellie tries? you think? but she’s not winning. fuck. it’s so hot. abby is devouring her, putting on a show, all for you. so sloppy and wet.. you’re left panting at the mere sight of them. finally, ellie jolts when abby sucks on her tongue, eyelashes fluttering, before she pushes her away roughly and backs up even more, just to be safe. both of them are flushed, breathing heavily, lips swollen and wet. abby sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and gives ellie a final slow once over before patting her lap, turning her attention towards you.

you shuffle over to her and settle on of her thighs between yours, squirming around already, kissing at her neck. “god abby that was so so, so.. fuck. i love you guys. ellie?” you sounded so wrecked, as if you were the one being ravaged instead of simply watching. you’re so whiney and needy, reaching back for ellie without looking. abby gives a ellie a “what the fuck are you waiting for?” look from over your shoulder. ellie hurries, coming to kneel behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other sliding under your tank top and up to gently palm at your breast. “you did so good ellie, so so good. i need you now, please?” you turn your neck to be able to reach her mouth, still warm and swollen from abby. you whimper at the thought. “i know baby. that’s our sweet girl. just wants everyone to feel good, yeah? don’t worry, we’ll make it better.” you pant against ellie’s mouth, abby’s voice low in your ear. her strong hands cupping your waist to control your movements on her thigh. yeah. you’re a genius.

[frostironfudge]

I Need You To Listen - Steve Rogers

Summary: For @the-slumberparty 's Week 3 Something New Challenge, I went with the medium mode - sex pollen but with exes to lovers. This took alot of work I ended up rewriting it entirely, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 7.4k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, angst, smut, fluff, sex pollen, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, love bites, steve rogers dirty talking (this man), swearing, nipple play, past is in italics, sort of a post civil war rewrite so we're going completely off canon

Main Masterlist || AO3

Fate works in the most hilarious of ways, a stubbed toe over here and a broken heart still being nursed over there. 

Tony Stark stands in front of your cell, staring at you through the glass. You don’t hold back your tears from him. Disappointment colours his features. 

Broken pieces of trust lay scattered on the floor. The damage by him was done. Leaving you to bear the brunt. Leaving you to walk on the jagged edges of the broken family. 

A family that shared jokes, laughed, drank and protected each other. 

Won together. 

Lost together. 

In the past few days died together. 

“How are you holding up?” His arc reactor gleams as he takes a seat on the stool. Unzipping the jacket he wears his arm in a sling. You close your eyes, more tears fall at the memory of the fight. An involuntary shiver as the chiling bite of the cold manifests itself from your memory. 

The cell isn’t uncomfortable. There is a cot in the corner, the bathroom has a door. The sterile scent of the cleaning agent stopped giving you a headache hours ago. 

“Why are you asking me?” You look at him, he should be mad, he should yell, call you a traitor. 

“Contrary to what you all think and did to me, I trust you.” He shrugs, left eye twitching, he rolls his shoulder. 

“How is the arm?” Your gaze falls to it. 

“Seen better days. You know, heart troubles.” He looks at Wanda’s cell, “Kid, Vis is asking about you.” 

She looks up at him, “Is Rhodes alright?” 

Tony presses his lips into a thin line, shaking his head. 

Wanda looks down at her hands. 

“He tore us apart. That Baron Zemo. I know you have a lot to learn, alot to grieve. The accords may be dissolved. I’m working on it. At SI we’re  preparing the bail documents.” He informs you all. 

Sam scoffs, “What about Cap and Barnes?” 

“James is in recovery as per my last conversation with T’Challa. Where Cap and Nat are I do not know nor does he.” Tony gazes back at you. 

“I trusted him.” Is all you can say to him. You stare at your palms, you couldn’t get the blood off. 

“I know, I did too.” 

“Tony.” Your lips quiver another sob at the heartbreak Steve left you with to deal. All alone. 

Bucky fights Tony, you don’t want to see your best friend hurt. The man who took you under his wing when you joined in, your steps halted by the blonde haired man who harbours your heart. 

“Sign the accords.” Steve orders, you gape at him. 

“Steve, do you fucking realise? We’re here because I didn’t sign them because I am siding with you?” You almost yell. The tempreture drops as the snow cascades into the facility from the now broken windows. 

Bucky lands on the floor, a pained groan, his arm blasted off. He kneels, eyes widened at the implication. At the man he hurt irreparablely being the one to take away one of the curses HYDRA bestowed upon him. 

“Shit!” Your eyes move to Tony, slowly he rises from the floor. The suit broken in several places. 

“Y/N, you need to listen. You cannot go rogue with me.” 

“Steve,” You push his arm away you had to intervene. 

“It was good while it lasted.” He says and everything turns to static. 

“Wh-what?” 

“Look, I, we had a good run but I know your stance on the accords you’re just with me for the sole reason we’re together.” Steve says to you. 

“Are you serious right now?” Anger courses through you, your grip on your pistol tightens. 

“It's not even the accords. I, I didn’t think we would make it beyond this month. Look, I have to think about Bucky. Its all of this, it doesn’t, priorities.” He lunges over to defend Bucky leaving you defenceless. Your ears ringing, you watch as they fight, you can’t hear any of the clangs the groans. 

You stand there dumbfounded. 

As Steve throws Tony down the beam reflects off of his shield and hits you on the shoulder you’re thrown against the wall. Bucky meets your eyes, at least he seems apologetic.  

Tony tries to get up to help you, “Rogers, she’s hurt—,” The shield slams against the arc reactor. 

“I don’t care.” He says so easily.

You pant as the pain increases, both the burn and sting of his words as well as the physical injuries manifesting across you. 

Steve helps Bucky up, you try to push yourself to your knees, crawling to Tony while keeping your arm close to your body. 

Bucky looks back at you, his eyes convey his remorse. Tony breathes hard, you blink back tears at the glance Steve doesn’t spare towards you. 

Eight months down the drain.

The morning kisses, cuddles, the random sketches of you he left as gifts all lose their importance. Remembrance only causes pain. 

“Mr. Stark, you need to leave.” 

Tony sighs, “I’ll visit, or I’ll have you guys out before that. Work some arrangement.” 

“I’m so sorry, Tony.” You look at his arm and back at his face. 

He gives you one of those sad smiles of his, the one where he pretends it's just another day, another common thing. 

“Aren’t you foolish to trust us again?” Sam questions him as Tony passes by his cell. 

“I just have to do my job. It’s the people who have to trust us.” Tony turns to face Sam. 

“So the people trust the missile maker millionaire Stark?” Sam knows the jab is stinging, Tony hated 

that about the company’s past. 

The rift was ever present, your friend looks towards you. 

“Y/N, let him know not to insult me, I’m a billionaire.” He grabs his glasses and moves away. 

You resist the urge to laugh, everyone would resort to their coping mechanisms. You’d have to bide your time here. Usually getting black out drunk was how you solved your own problems. 

True to his word Tony has you all released on various conditions. You, Scott and Wanda are released together. 

When you reach the tower it isn’t surprising that there was a break in, you’d scoff that Steve didn’t come to break you out but he made his decision in Siberia. 

The faint scent of his cologne lingers in your room. Hints of Patchouli and Bergamot. You stare at the box on your bed. 

Opening it reveals a burner phone. 

“I got a burner too, one number loaded upon it.” Tony stands at the door holding a glass of scotch for himself and your favourite Vodka in a bottle. 

“Surprised he bothered.” You open the phone and it chimes an unread text upon it. 

“I didn’t get that.” He observes, you take the bottle from him. 

Opening the text. 

SGR: I want to talk to you. Please let me explain. 

You laugh bitterly, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip. At least you can blame these tears on the alcohol. 

“Are you going to? Call him I mean.” Tony settles on your desk chair. 

“Nope.” You set your bottle down after three more sips, grabbing the edges of the opened flip phone you press. The phone snaps from its hinges and you place it back down in the box, “Did you track it?” 

“Fake return address.” He twirls the ice in his drink. 

The two of you bask in the silence. Drinking in tandem and out of sync. 

“Were you going to sign the Accords?” You ask after a while staring at the setting sun. 

“Nope,” He reaches for your bottle, pouring himself a peg, “I was having them redrafted. Steve only had to agree for them to shut up. My draft would have gotten approved.” 

“So confident.” You raise your brows. 

“Comes with the job title.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Do you think anyone will trust anyone?” You tap the bottle neck. 

Steve’s laughter reverberates against your chest. He reaches up to cup your face. 

“Why is it so amusing?” You ask, not meeting his eyes. 

“Because it is, Poppet. I wouldn’t break your heart.” He assures yet again. 

You gnaw at your bottom lip trust was difficult to come by for you. 

“You want to know why?” He whispers, making you meet his gaze. His nose brushing against your own. 

“Because I have your heart and it's what is keeping me alive.” 

You lean closer, pressing your lips to his, Steve kisses you back. Hands pulling you closer. You feel his smile between the kisses and you begin to retract knowing what he was upto but it’s too late. 

Steve tickles your sides and laughter blubbers from your chest. He grins, cheeks flushed as you press against him. The thin sheet hides nothing from the way you feel. 

“I love you.” He says, you stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“I loved him with everything in me.” You blubber out, tears falling down. 

Tony sits next to you, your head rests on his good shoulder, “I know you did. It's a hard road ahead, kid. Not an undoable one.” 

“I hate him.” You declare, “I hate him, he just, how could he be so selfish?” 

“Sometimes we all are, he is in the wrong. He didn’t exactly reciprocate the trust.” Tony sighs, you look up at him. 

“I’m sorry about your parents.” You watch him give you those sad smiles, he flexes and extends the fingers of his left hand. 

“He could have told me, I trusted him enough that he could.” He whispers then shakes his head. 

“Steve Rogers is an asshole.” You declare raising your bottle to his assholery. Then you giggle. 

“You just thought of the word assholery didn’t you?” Tony giggles as well. 

Both of you burst out laughing. 

“Hey Tone?” You ask mid laughter. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here, also can I get a box?”

“Sure.” He stands, FRIDAY has the box led by one of his tinkered bots to the room. 

“I need to check on Rhodey.” He says, “I’m a call away okay?” 

You nod, he leaves. The box stays on your bed and then you stare at the sketches hung around your room. With a delicateness that Steve didn’t spare towards you, you pack up the papers. Sealing the box with plastic wrap and head down to the safety deposit lockers. 

Your steps are misjudged and you drop your box of trinkets several times. The stupid ceramic mug from that couples pottery class probably shattered. 

You giggle thinking how it resembles your heart. 

Locking the box leaves you in silence. Your room is void of all things Steve except the one shirt he gave you on your first mission together where the two of you fell into the muddled waters that left the two of you in need to change out of clothes. 

The shirt smells like him, you curl up with it on your pillow. 

“This is the last time you gave your heart away.” You tell yourself. 

“This is the last time you cry over him.” You promise yourself. 

Eight months pass and you all sit in the conference room. The accords are abolished. They reinstate Natasha, Sharon, James, Sam and him. Tony holds his flip phone. Resorting to texting rather than speaking to him. 

A reply comes when you all are back at the tower. They’d be there tomorrow. Rooms are prepared with favourite foods stocked up. You had requested your room be shifted away to another level. 

Heart ache didn’t manifest beyond those few nights. 

Your walls that Steve Rogers broke down were built back stronger. Impenetrable. His shirt was placed in his room by you a month into getting over him. 

You don’t pass by the floor, you’re a level above. Thankfully the elevators divide the levels they service and you won’t ever be on the same floor as him. 

The night is restless despite your indifference to all of them. They were the family you chose and yet you were abandoned by them. 

Dreams are but a loop of memories you have buried. 

After your morning laps you head to Tony’s lab. 

“They will be dropping in at SHIELD first. Fury wants to discuss some things and then they come back here.” He stifles a yawn. 

“You need caffeine my friend.” You hold up the coffees, “Luckily I come bearing gifts.”

“I love you.” He whispers gingerly while taking the cup. 

“Are you talking to the coffee or me?” You ask, taking a sip of your own. 

“I can love both.” He defends, whispering to the coffee he loves it more. 

You throw one of his discarded paper balls on him. It doesn’t phase him. 

“Are you sure you want to come along?” He asks for the umpteenth time on the drive to SHIELD. 

“Tony, I will leave you behind if you ask me again.” You glare at him. 

“I think you will be fine.” Vision assures a gentle smile on his face and he laces his fingers with Wanda. She smiles at him, her own mind filled with thoughts. 

“See we’ll be okay.” You declare. 

Minutes later you’re seated on one side of the conference room. Tony on the first seat, you on the second. Vision opts to stand behind Wanda as she sits. 

Fury sits at the head of the table. The door opens and Natasha, Sam and Steve step into the room. A thick silence settles over. You look at each of them and then back at Fury. 

Natasha’s hair is shorter and blond, Sam seems to have gotten leaner. Steve was sporting a beard and longer hair. 

You wondered if the post break up look was something you should have gone for, maybe dyed your hair blue.

“Well, as you know you all have been reinstated. The Avengers operate without any Accords binding them but they must be mindful of their poweress and the possible damage they may cause. A country has full discretion to forbid the Avengers from subduing threats that may lead them there and you must honour that no matter the cost.” Fury gazes at you all. 

“What if they need help?” Steve questions, you scoff. 

Cold blues flash to you. You roll your eyes. 

“The dissolution of the Accords was done keeping this one rule in mind. I suggest you make peace with it. You will not be able to save everyone from damage and hurt, it is better than causing it.” Tony adds. 

Steve’s jaw tightens. He nods. 

“Now since this is done and dusted. Official missions may resume.” Fury places down a manila folder. 

“Official?” Sam questions, raising a brow. 

“Agent Y/L/N here was liasoning with us for recon purposes. Kept under wraps. We have identified HYRA bases. Once the plans are sanctioned you all will be back on duty.” Nick sighs, “I suggest you all train together to get a sense of your skill sets and moves again.” 

No one nods. 

Nick shakes his head leaving the room. 

“Your old rooms have been cleaned at the tower. Access is via FRIDAY, food is stocked. Layout’s almost the same. Few changes here and there. Oh and there are new succulents in the living room.” Tony fiddles with the folder. 

“We can conduct a meeting about these missions tonight or tomorrow. You all settle in, there is a car outside and your vehicles are in pristine condition at the garage.” He informs them further. 

“No welcome back party?” Nat muses, you laugh. 

“I drank all the liquor so unfortunately no parties.” You deadpan. 

Nat and Sam stare at you. 

“It has been a difficult few months. I understand everyone will take time to return to a semblance of previous normalcy.” Vision’s words are both reassuring but also farfetched. 

Wanda grasps his hand and gives it a squeeze. 

Steve’s brows furrow in worry. He observes you trying to find any hints but you give him none. You learned to school yourself. An agent well versed in hiding her intent, emotions and aim. Your skillset is what brought you to the team and it is what you have. It's what you could trust. 

Sam nods, “Well best we head back.” 

“Yes we could use some sleep.” Natasha says, you flash her a smile. 

“Yep, well I have a few things to discuss with Fury.” You push away from the table first. Tony follows your lead. 

“Should you not include us in the conversation?” Steve says in his authoritative baritone. 

“Unfortunately, Captain, it isn’t an Avengers matter but a personal one. Which you aren’t entitled to know.” You spit back. 

His mouth opens again to speak. 

Tony beats him to it, “Where’s our Manchurian candidate?” 

“Bucky’s in the UK for a bit, after Wakanda we were there for a while. He stayed back for personal reasons.” Steve explains and you slip out. 

Steve stares at your room door, knocking on it yet again. Two weeks since his return and you had avoided him in every capacity.

He had worked up the courage to knock on your door today. But there was no response as it was over the past fifteen minutes. He requests FRIDAY to check in and all the AI says is that you’re fine.

You had gotten back from a mission yesterday morning. You had to have been resting. 

“Why won’t she open her door then?” He mutters, pressing his forehead to your door, “Poppet, I just want to speak to you. Please.”

“Captain.” Vision greets floating out of Wanda’s room.

“Vision.” He acknowledges.

“Why are you knocking on an empty room’s door?” Vision tilts his head. 

Steve blinks at him, “This is Y/N’s room.” he states as if obvious.

“It isn’t, she switched rooms about three months ago.” Vision says

Before Steve can ask anything further, Wanda opens her door, “Vis.” She gestures with her hand for him to return.

“Wanda.” He walks to her this time.

“FRIDAY, where is Y/N’s new room?” Steve questions walking to the elevators. 

“She’s on the twenty-fifth floor.” The AI responds, he switches to the other elevator. 

“Captain, you will have to go to the ground floor to switch elevators.” FRIDAY informs him. 

Steve sighs moving back in front of the original elevator. It stops at every single floor; he almost misses the elevator as you’re getting on, luckily a Stark Industries employee holds the door for him. 

You bite the inside of your cheek. Looking away. 

“I want to talk.” He says over the all too silent but crowded elevator. 

Everyone looks at him except you. They follow his gaze to you. 

“I don’t.” You answer while staring at the numbers. 

“Poppet.” He says and you shoot him a glare before looking away again. 

People trickle in and out. 

Steve’s gaze is trained upon you. He nods politely at those greeting him but his gaze nerver strays from you. 

You look into your phone pulling up a forgotten game loaded into the device. Anything. Any stupid thing to avoid him. 

Finally it's just the two of you. 

The automated air freshener hisses filling the space with the scent of lavender. 

“Poppet I just want to explain—,” Steve steps closer, his hand outstretched. 

“No. I don’t fucking want to hear a word.” You seethe, you move forward pressing the button to your floor if it makes you reach quicker. 

“Poppet.” He grabs your hand, turning you towards him. 

“Y/N. Use my damn name.” You spit out, finally meeting his eyes. 

There is a tick in his jaw, he nods, “Y/N. Just five minutes. I know I don’t deserve it—,”

“You don’t deserve to even ask for a minute of my time. You never saw us work beyond that month correct? Well guess what? We don’t.” You push at his chest, he doesn’t budge. 

“I lied. I said those things so you wouldn’t follow. I could not have you living rogue with me.” Steve admits, you stare at him. 

“You lied?” You repeat. 

“I didn’t want to break things off but that was the only way I could ensure you wouldn’t follow behind me. It was dangerous. Poppet—Y/N,” he corrects, “I told you your heart kept me alive, I love you—,” 

Steve’s head snaps to the side, cheek turning red at the impact of your slap. You breathe hard, eyes tearing up. 

“That was not for you to fucking decide, you do not get to come back here and make your sorry excuses for being a horrible human being. Betraying my trust. Leaving me and your friend injured. You picked Bucky over us. You picked Bucky over me and I understand I would pick him too if I were you. But I would not fucking lie or leave my girlfriend and best friend behind injured horribly. You’re welcome back to the compound Steve. Even back to your glorious Captain America title. However,” 

The doors open to your floor, you step out. 

“I don’t know how you say you’re alive because I took my fucking heart back from your undeserving self. I don’t care if you lied, I don’t care if it was all fun and games. I don't care about you. I don’t want to care about you. You are a teammate because I am forced to consider you one. I don’t need to listen to you to provide you closure or a second chance. You fucking liar!” 

“Poppet,” Steve reaches for you again, you take off running to your door. 

“FRIDAY, deny access. Override only with Tony.” You order, the locks on your doors bolt and Steve keeps knocking and pleading. 

He sinks to his knees outside your door apologising over and over. 

Natasha is pinned to the floor by Wanda as the latter grins triumphantly. Natasha praises her and they break apart. You take Wanda’s place and Sam takes Natasha’s place. 

Mixed training was now mandatory. 

You had almost burned Nick Fury with your glare. Steve hadn’t shown up to any, in fact he hardly was in the same room as you. 

Sam goes full offence, you block the blows. Defending yourself you had worked hard over the time away from official duties. 

Minutes pass by, neither of you yields. Panting you stare at Sam waiting for an opening to take him down. 

“Come on, that's all you got, little spy?” Sam teases, you laugh. 

“You wish birdy.” You stick your tongue out childishly. Wanda and Nat laugh. 

“Come on Wilson.” Nat prompts, “We’re bored here.” 

“Alright,” Sam moves, pulling a fake. You catch it a moment too late, as he’s about to tackle you to the ground you turn. Tugging on his arm as Sam’s eyes widen. 

The momentum thrown off both of you land on your sides, recovering swiftly he’s pinned to the ground by you. 

You grin at him. 

“How's that birdy?” You laugh at his irritation. Sam rolls his eyes. 

“Y/N.” 

Everyone’s heads snap to the door, Steve and Tony stand there. 

You help Sam up. Sam keeps an arm around your shoulder. Steve’s eyes linger and his fists clench. 

Sam takes his arm away. 

You roll your eyes, they land on Tony as he bites his cheek, oh this can’t be good you deem. 

“Wheels up in an hour for Rogers and you.” He delivers the news. 

“Sam, Nat, Vis and Wanda are needed to take on a bigger base with Tony.” Steve looks at you, “Fury’s orders before you try to whine your way out if it.” 

You glare at him, “Alright.” 

An hour later you’re on the jet with Steve. He doesn’t talk. The last conversation between the two of you was enough. 

“We won’t be splitting up.” Steve informs you. You nod, studying the layout. 

You frown in recognition. 

“I was here on recon. This is supposed to be a dead base.” You look up at him. 

“Fury said they detected activity.” He looks back ahead. 

“Hopefully it's just random people looking for shelter.” You look back at the plans. 

Steve hums, observing you again. Wishing it would be like before where the two of you would be holding hands. 

Cobwebs litter the walls, plaster cracked. The scent of something decaying permeates through the space. 

Walking into the HYDRA base is carefully crafted, Steve leads with his shield. You keep a double check on the back trail. Something was not sitting right with you. 

The hallway diverges, you stand next to Steve, “Left side first then we can go right.” You whisper. 

He nods, “Stay close, I don’t know why something feels wrong.”

You don’t verbalise your own feelings, following in his footsteps. 

The hallway leads to an abandoned lab, the computers torn down and broken apart. Steve relaxes his defensive stance looking around the area. 

You move carefully through the edge of the room, “Something should be of value here.” 

“I don’t think there is anything.” Steve declares, “Let's clear the other pathway.”

You give another once over and then follow him back down the path. 

Your boot catches on the uneven flooring, “Shit!” You whisper yell as you fall forward. 

Steve turns, breaking your fall. You land against his chest and his arm encircles your waist. For a moment that echoes a broken promise of eternity he holds you close to him. 

Steve sneaks a moment he lost over a stupid decision. He takes what crumbs he’s given by fate. 

Your palm is against his chest, your head tucked against the crook of his neck. 

Why can't you move away?

Why do you want more of him? 

Why do you miss him? 

He hurt you. 

He lied. 

He hurt you. 

You break the eternity Steve was living as you pull away, silence stretches between the two of you as you head down the other hallway. 

It's empty yet again, you shake your head at the waste of time. Steve steps closer to the vials on the shelf. The liquid in them gleams a certain way. 

You hear a pneumatic hiss from your left. You turn quietly making your way to the wall. 

Steve studies the shelf again. There was no dust on it. No pattern on it. These were fresh vials. Then his eyes widened, “Y/N don’t!” 

You turn to face him when the hiss is louder and the slits of the vent open. A dust like substance pours over floating around you. 

A coughing fit grips you, you place your hand against the wall to steady yourself the gun falls as you clutch your chest wheezing. 

Steve pads over to you, trying to rub your back to ease the coughing fit. He asks FRIDAY to scan the micro dust to see if it is anything dangerous. 

The coughing fit subsides over a few minutes, your breathing shallow. You look up at Steve blinking away the tears. He cups your cheek.

“Are you okay? Do you feel anything?” He questions, gaze running over every aspect of you. Glove clad large palms moving over your form. You nod, but then your stomach cramps. 

“What is it?” Steve takes not of your discomfort. 

“I, it's my stomach—,” Your words are cut off by a whimper as the cramp gains severity. You lean more against the wall as the cramp travels across. 

Steve rummages through his mind to know what this substance could be, he had been to HYDRA bases before. He spoke to Bucky all about them, their experiments which he knew. 

He watches as your skin flushes, you squirm in his grasp. He steps closer to support you. 

“Poppet?” Steve makes you look up at him, your eyes have a dazed look almost glazed over. You feel his warmth through your tactical suit. His thigh between your legs and the ache the needy ache is all you know and you need to get rid of it. 

“Please,” You plead to him gazing at his slightly blurred blue eyes, your hips moving out of their own accord against his thigh you moan as your core makes contact with him. 

Steve pushes your hips away, “Poppet what—,” 

“Steve, it hurts so badly. Please,” You cry out wiggling against his hold. His fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place. 

Your palms cover his, you look up at him. 

You lean up, he shifts back. You use the distraction to guide his palm to grind down on it. Your choked moan has his cock harden further. He can’t help but watch as you use him. 

Logic hits him then when he feels just how wet you’ve gotten, before he can pull away there is a prick in the side of his neck. You begin to blur from his view. 

“Poppet, something is wrong.” 

You look up at him, why did his words sound garbled? 

Why was he falling to his knees? 

You look behind him, people standing and watching. 

The need clouding your mind clears in the slightest, “Steve,” you kneel next to him. 

“It’s okay,” he assures you, reaching for the shield. 

The cramp hits you again harder; you cry out in pain, doubling over and sinking against the wall to curl up. 

“FRIDAY, dis-distress signal.” Steve orders as his vision begins to blacken, he reaches for you with the last of his strength covering your curled up form with his body. 

Steve keeps his eyes closed. 

Enhanced hearing picking up the dripping pipes from the left. To his right he hears your pained whimpers. 

How long was he out?

Chains bind his arms above him, the uneven concrete digs into his knees and shins. He would search for the shield in the aftermath. 

He counts four people by their rhythmic footfall. They were in the same facility. It couldn’t have been easy to move them. 

Lolling his head to right he watches you through hooded eyes, chained like him kept on your knees but you’re struggling. Squirming on the ground trying to find respite and crying out of frustration. 

“Sex pollen.” Bucky spoke, with a shake of his head in disgust.

“Sex pollen?” Steve repeated as if to confirm. 

Bucky gives him a look, Steve’s eyebrows shot up higher. 

“What does that do? Did they use it on you?” Steve questioned his best friend. 

Bucky shook his head, “It basically sets the libido up to the maximum, forces the person in contact to orgasm but basically they need to have sex, self pleasure seldom works. The intensity is higher to combat the inevitable effect.” 

A dark expression crossed Bucky’s features, he sighed sadly. Looking out at the view from his home in Wakanda. The house, though borrowed, was Bucky’s own. 

Steve had placed a few sketches of Brooklyn around. The place he used to consider home now changed. Steve stares at the more recent sketch of his home city. 

Two men out of time in a place decades ahead of the world outside. 

“How long?” Steve clutches his charcoal tighter as he forms the curve of soft lips on the paper. A stray tendril of hair. 

Bucky looks down at the half done sketch of your face. His heart aches for Steve and you. 

“Two hours, it gets progressively maddening. At first one can try to speak or answer what is asked. After that it is variable how long it takes for the need to become the sole focus. If nothing is done in two hours then its too far gone and well...” 

He had limited time, he could not gamble any further. Steve opens his eyes, tugging at the restraints to catch the attention of the captors. 

You hear the rattling, you look up at Steve another pang through your core. 

“Steve—,” 

“Ah, Captain. Welcome to the land of the waking, you were out for just under an hour. Now who is this sweet little needy thing with you?” The man asks, stepping closer to you. 

Steve growls, “Stay away from her.” he warns. 

The man raises his hands in defence, “She’s a little needy Captain,” he walks back toward Steve away from you, “Why so possessive?” 

Steve bites his tongue, “She’s mine.” he grits out. 

“I see and why is she yours?” 

He can’t tell them, they would exploit you but his will is crumbling swiftly and his mind is compelling him to speak, “I love her.” 

“Hm, it seems she needs you, Captain.” The man grins, walking back to you. His palm touches your scalp as he pulls your hair back. You want to recoil but the touch is soothing some of the ache. You look at Steve, pleading.  

“I could fill in.” He says suggestively.

You try to shuffle away but the grip on your hair tightens. 

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her!” Steve bellows as his thumb approaches your lips, “What the fuck do you want?” He pulls against the restraints, almost snarling. 

“I want to know where my Soldat is, tell me.” The man demands, leaving you. The words register as does the scent of cigarettes you recoil. You feel your mind working again, clearing the need to be fucked. 

“Steve don’t,” you warn him, he couldn’t sell out Bucky whatever this was, it wasn't worth ruining his life again, “I’ll deal with this…” you bite back the pained whimper. 

Steve stares at you, eyes wide and with an emotion you can’t place. 

“Oh but you know what is wrong with her don’t you Captain?” The man demands and you look to Steve, “Tell her the truth that burns your veins, Captain.” 

Steve wants to lie, wants to cushion you, “Truth serum?” He looks at the man who nods.

“Brilliant isn’t it? You’re compelled to tell me whether or not she chooses to be saved. You’re on a time limit.” The man taps his watch. 

“It’s a sex pollen.” Steve informs you, you stare at him. 

“That, that's why I need?” Your insides churn and your clit pulses as you watch Steve lick his dry lips before he continues to speak. The small insignificant action has your body wanting to be devoured. 

“Yes, and if you don’t get release, it’s fatal.” 

Silence stretches on the footfall of the three others has stopped, they watch the show play out. The consequences and the outcomes weighed. 

“Fight it, don’t tell them. It's not worth it.” You whisper. 

“Poppet you cannot say that. I am not risking your life!” Steve yells, pulling at the restraints again. 

“You can’t have him at risk again!” 

“I won’t let you die!” 

“You already left me for the dead once! You chose him once. Just fucking do it again!” You seethe, your skin clammy and you just want this suit gone. The material irritates you. 

Steve gapes at you, “I, I didn’t—,”

“Save it.” 

“As much as I enjoy a lover’s quarrel. Where is Soldat?” The man interrupts. 

“Gone.” Steve answers, “Poppet, please,” 

“Don’t fucking tell them!” You demand, “Consider it my last wish! Fight the damn truth serum.” 

“You are not dying.” Steve grits out. 

“Where is he, where is Bucky Barnes?” The man lands a punch to Steve’s face. His hair falls forward, slowly Steve looks up at the man. Rage colouring all his features. 

“I will let you help her. Just tell me where Bucky is, Captain.” The man promises. Steve considers, you begin to yell no at him. 

“He’s in the United Kingdom.” 

“Are you insane?!” You slump to the ground, “Do you have any fucking idea what have you done?” 

The man walks over and slaps you, “Shut the fuck up! You want a cock so fucking bad you fucking bitch in heat, I’ll give you one!” 

Steve snarls, wrapping the chain around his own palm and tugging hard until it breaks away from the wall. The man turns, gun cocked and ready, it's grabbed out of his hand by Steve. He looks at the man dead in his eyes before delivering the fatal shot.

You look up at Steve, as the man drops to the floor between the two of you. 

Steve watches the other three scramble about, he quickly fires the shots, he keeps one person alive. 

He grabs the other chain, yanking it with all his strength. It gives way. 

“Where is the shield?” He walks over to the man on the ground, pleading in pain. 

A shaking hand rises, pointing to the vault. 

“Access code?” Steve picks him up and takes him to the keypad. 

The man enters it crying when Steve presses on the open wound, “Don’t fucking pull any stunts.” 

You watch as the doors part and the shield stays there as a momento. 

You blink when everything goes out of focus. You blink again. Heat spreads over your body goosebumps raise across. 

Your thighs clench and you squirm trying to get some friction to release the ache. Tugging at the restraints is maddening. They don’t relent when you try to manoeuvre but no position provides any respite and you sob out as the frustration grows. 

“Poppet.” A warm voice calls out, you whimper. The hold on your right arm loosens and your hand reaches for the tactical suit. You had to get it off. You needed to get it off. 

You blink and watch as Steve’s hand stops yours, you push at him. 

“Please,” you whimper as another cramp takes over. 

“You smell so sweet baby.” He groans, the sound urges you on, you guide his hand to where you need him. 

His warm palm cups you the fabric of your suit soaked Steve hears your sigh of relief. 

“Going to take care of you Poppet, but you need to hold on for me okay?” Steve assures, breaking out your left arm as well. 

“Steve please,” you beg again, your mind screaming at your body, your hips move making you grind onto his palm. Your smaller palm wrapped around his wrist not letting him pull away. 

“Fuck,” He groans, pushing you against the corner and undoing your suit’s zipper, you don’t face him palms braced against the wall. Steve’s warm calloused palm is as though cold respite to your heated skin. 

He doesn’t waste time, fingers running over your folds, palm pressing against your clit. Your head tilts back resting against his shoulder, mouth parted moans leaving you. 

Steve presses his fingers into you, two thick digits and your walls clench around him he almost wishes he’d fuck you right there. 

“Fuck this pussy remembers who she belongs to doesn’t she?” Fingers curve finding the spot he very well could have placed. Stars line your vision as he hits the spot over and over, fingers curving.

“Right there Steve!” You cry out your ass rocking against him, pressing onto his cock. He keeps his thrusts hard and fast, palm rubbing your clit in the most delicious of ways. His grunts fill your senses.

Pleasure thrums from his touch to your body, your back arching as his fingers drive deeper and deeper into you. Your walls are gripping them back in not wanting him to stop. 

“I know sweet Poppet. I know what makes her weep for me. I’m going to taste you. But first you’re going to make a mess on my hand alright?” He instructs filthy words offset by the sweet kisses placed against your forehead and cheek. 

His other hand cups your breast playing with your nipple. Your hands fall from the wall, gripping onto his nails leaving indents on his skin. Steve watches your chest constrict, your voice choke off, eyes rolling back as your orgasm crashes into you. 

His fingers keep moving, riding your orgasm out, your walls quivering around him the sensitivity of your clit as it pulses. Some of the haze clears but the need just returns tenfold.

“Steve, please, I can’t, can’t wait—,” 

His lips are on yours, cutting you off, your suit pushed down further without breaking away from the kiss.

The shield clatters to the floor, his suit haphazardly discarded. Steve’s hands explore your body, remembering the planes he explored before. The love he whispered across your skin. Marking you with his touch, his lips, his seed.

“Wanna see you,” You want to turn, he grabs your hands pinning them to the wall. 

“No one gets to see you this way but me.” He growls, you feel his hard cock move between your thighs. His larger body covers yours, shielding you, watching over you. 

When your thighs clench around him,  Steve hisses, “Going to fill you up, sweet girl.” he coos. 

Inch by inch Steve’s length stretches you, your back arches. The relief the stretch of his cock brings is unlike anything else you’ve felt before. 

“You can take it, made for my cock aren't you?” He stills inside you, throbbing as your walls clench around him. He moans biting down on your shoulder the feel of you decadent, unable to be given justice by his mind.

“Heaven. Pussy feels so good, baby. Missed you so much.” He grunts, you push back against him needing him to move, “hands around my neck.” He orders, leaving your hands.

You wrap them around him, holding onto his now longer hair, soft between your fingers. Your mind remains you of the soft moments when he laid in your lap and your fingers combed through these locks.

Steve pulls you out of your thoughts with the snap of his hips. His palms gripping your waist anchoring you to him. Skin slapping against skin, his cock feels so good you could sob, the need turns into embers, your thirst being quenched. 

Each delicious, deep stroke moves you towards sweet bliss. You hear your name in an echo of his name. Steve watches the wall you mould against him, as countless times before. Your heart may have put up walls but your body left no space.

The way he sees the telltale signs of your orgasm he brings his right hand towards your apex, timing his rough circles on your clit to his thrusts. The sensations blooming become too much, your body alit with flames of pleasure, Steve moans as your walls begin to milk him just as your orgasm shatters through you.

He keeps his thrusts going, pumping into you. The arousal that spills onto your thighs, the mix of you and him. 

“One more.” He demands, fingers coated with the mix of the two of you, his marked fingers brought back to your clit, you cry out in ecstasy. 

The blissful haze clears, everything returning to you. The mission, the power, you can’t, you can’t, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve–,

“Right here my sweet poppet, you will give me one more. You know I'm greedy.” He reasons, only increasing his pace, you thrash in his hold. Lips find the sweet spot of your neck.

It’s your undoing, you cum around him yet again. Crying out his name, tugging on his hair. Aftershocks moving through you. He holds you up, pressing kisses to your forehead, temple, cheek, jaw and shoulders. 

Grounding you, palms moving over you after he brings his coated fingers to taste them. Your head lols against his shoulder, you reach for his jaw, placing a soft kiss. Steve smiles at the familiar gesture. 

Helping you get dressed he follows as well. You’re lifted into his arms and carried to the quinjet.

As it had turned out Bucky wasn’t in UK it was a precautionary measure they came up with to secure Bucky from any life threatening attempts. The guilt you had harboured lessened.

Steve had stayed away from you, once Tony and Bruce cleared you of any remnant pollen he took his leave. Avoiding you as he had after the elevator confrontation. It left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

As much as you felt as if you were an emotional fool for considering the thought of wanting to approach him, you missed him. Terribly. 

You knew your walls were useless against the one man who you had given your jagged heart to, the blue eyes you had drowned yourself in multiple times. Whether it was when he found your gaze across the room or when you were pressed against him.

Your feet carried you after three days to his door. Your hand shook when you knocked. Thoughts swirling through your mind insecurities gaining fleet. 

The door opens, Steve’s eyes widen then his brows furrowed with worry, then fall to the still fading love bite that  he placed on your collarbone. You shift your weight to either side. Hands fiddling with the hem of your top.

You look down at your feet, Steve’s palm cups your cheek. 

Your eyes meet their old home of blue.

“I want to listen.” You manage to say, his pink lips stretch into a familiar smile.

He steps to the side inviting you further into his room.

-x-x-x-x-

[al9ayf]

Could I request headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor finding out their f!s/o has suicidal thoughts please?

yay my first bg3 request! hope u enjoy <3

ᥫ᭡ suicidal thoughts | dammon, haarlep, rolan, zevlor w/ f!so

｡˚ explicit content :: thoughts of suicide ofc, mentions of rape

ʚ dammon:

you had known dammon before the fall of elturel and were quite in love. but after the fall, and after you had lost your home, parents, and even dammon for quite a while, everything to your name was POOF gone just like that. and even after returning back to faerûn, it did not make shit any better for you

dammon was by your side the whole time. he gave you so much to care for. you even helped him set up his shop in the druid’s grove, but the happiness did not last long. the thoughts of everything you had being stripped away from you is too much to handle and dammon’s love and kindness cannot fix the thoughts that run through your mind. now with the threat of being kicked out and having to face this vast world with more refugees only makes this sadness worse

you would be better off dead than have to survive in a new hell. you want to see your family again and run to the front door of your house and smell a brewing dinner again. to laugh with your mother and poke fun at your younger siblings. the thought of seeing it again makes the adrenaline rush through you

dammon finds out about all this by accident. you do not confide in him about anything because you are scared to break his heart. you always try to seem okay but dammon knows better. he has seen the hells and seen many slaves there with that look in your eyes. the look of pure release. the glint of sweet death. but he does not confront you about it just yet. he waited another day to see if you will say anything, but night falls and you pretend to be just fine

dammon confronts you with sweet words and comforting arms. he holds you tight because he is afraid that if he lets you go, you will never return to him. the promise of a sweet girl in his arms gone from him forever

“i see it in your eyes. the promise of death, my love. i do not want such a beautiful soul torn from me so fast. not after we had lost everything.”

his words bring you to tears and you collapse. you cry out your confessions to him, and dammon kisses your head and promises to make things right. baldur’s gate is a new beginning and is already so close. your family would have wanted you to keep on living for their memory

dammon’s words comfort you and for the first time in a long while you do not think those thoughts anymore. he holds you tight and promises to always be there for you

ʚ haarlep:

haarlep not gonna give a FUCK 😭

you’re a reoccurring guest at the house of hope. one with many troubles and many, many offers to make raphael very happy. haarlep does not ask how you manage to keep the cambion on his toes, but it is working

occasionally you wait for raphael in the boudoir while haarlep helps you relax. most of the time when he sees you, you’re tense or your head is somewhere else. he helps you take your mind off things rather easily and has even become a great comfort in your life. even the incubus himself has taken a liking to you that he cannot believe

there comes a day where you enter the boudoir to wait for raphael again. haarlep takes you to the bath for a pleasurable experience, but you are far too gone this time. he kisses you and touches you in ways you like, but it barely elicits a reaction from you. finally getting annoyed yet concerned, he pops the question

“do i not please you right, little mouse? or perhaps raphael’s form is not what you need right now, hm?”

he tries to kiss you again, to somehow comfort you, but you place your fingers on his lips and stop him. there, naked in that warm bath with him, you confide in him that troubling thoughts have taken over your mind. that your traumatic childhood and now pathetic life led you to make deals with the devil to keep yourself moving. the only joy you find in life is with haarlep yet the painstaking thought of slitting your own throat is more joyful at times

haarlep did not expect those words to come out of your mouth. it seemed like you did not either. you go to leave when you see the confused look on his face, muttering something about seeing raphael at a later time, but the incubus pulls you back down into the bath and kisses you

he has feelings. although he is an incubus, he has attached himself to you. you are a complicated character and he thinks of it as a challenge he is willing to take on

“do not think because i am an incubus i cannot harbor feelings for you. when the only thing i look forward to is seeing your sad face coming through that door. to enjoy a pleasurable time with you. mind the past and present, and let’s live a future together. the house of hope will bring you just that… and i am also here to bring you a life full of surprises.”

he kisses you again to seal in his words. a change of life would most definitely change you, and although it would be in the house of hope, you could live lavishly like korrilla. a life by haarlep’s side is a life of joy itself

ʚ rolan:

rolan met you at lorroakan’s tower working as an assistant. at first he paid you no mind, not caring who you were. but there was an aura of mystery to you. a hidden sadness

rolan is attracted to you almost immediately. he tries to focus on his apprenticeship with lorroakan, but finds it hard to when all he wants is to be with your beautiful self. to see what magic you can conjure and set his heart aflame

soon enough you find each other entangled in each other’s arm, sharing a night of passionate love and conjoined sadness. you both suffer from the wizard’s abuse, and the both of you will endure it together. yet everyday rolan notices that you have it worse than him in some other way

after the shop closes and rolan heads off to sleep, he hears you in lorroakan’s bedroom. he shouldn’t eavesdrop, but he was concerned. and after only listening for a few seconds, he finds himself against the opposite wall panting heavily. his heart aflame in a sorrowful way. so that is what lorroakan does to you at night? the thought of it makes rolan angry. angry at the wizard for having you whenever he wanted to, and angry at himself for not being able to stop it

the next night, rolan knocks on your bedroom door only to have it swing open to reveal an empty bedroom. presumably you are with the wizard again against your wishes, and so he decides to step up and enter the bedroom. there he finds your diary unopened by your bedside table. rolan knows he shouldn’t, but he must. and when he sits on your creaky bed and reads through pages upon pages of hateful words and unthinkable actions, rolan can only throw the book in anger and frustration at the ground

you were beautiful, sweet, and smart. and lorroakan stripped it all from you and left you as a husk. the urge to kill yourself became a line too thin

finally when you return to your bedroom, you break into tears when you are met with rolan. he holds you tight and protectively against your bedroom door. you clutch at his robes and cry into them. you confide in him everything that lorroakan has done to you

“death is kinder than men, and i will embrace it with open arms and sweet kisses…”

your words sting rolan. he knows it is true. you would find a more peaceful life in death, but he loves you so. he caresses your cheek and kisses the top of your head gently. you relax in his arms

“i promise you i will kill him. i will kill him a thousand times over if it could undo all the pain he has inflicted on you. that bastard has what’s coming to him!”

and you trust rolan’s words. you love him so.

ʚ zevlor:

you were amongst the refugees and had known zevlor for a long while. although inexperienced yourself, you swore to him that you would one day be as strong as him and learn how to wield a sword. he was your protector, your leader, and you wanted to show him your thanks and love. long have you loved him, and long has he felt the same

zevlor has comforted you during your lowest days. you lost your home in elturel, and it was difficult to keep on going without support. but he became that support and it made you so happy

after he was taken away by the cultist’s in the shadowlands, you too drowned yourself in your sorrows alongside rolan. you only had zevlor who meant so much to you, and now you have nothing. not even a glimpse of hope of escaping the shadowlands safely or alive. it was eating you up on the inside

after days of feeling hopeless and at a loss, you do not even have the strength to speak. you watch as the adventurer’s help reunite families again and loved ones, yet zevlor is nowhere in sight. it only drags you down deeper and deeper into a bottomless pit. the light starts to get dimmer at the top and to you that is alright. that is what was promised to you back in elturel

you were one of the last people left behind in moonrise towers. you stayed longer to drown in thoughts of how the world no longer mattered. how all family and love you lost in your life could not be found in a city with empty promises. everybody has something there waiting for them. alfira with her bardic school, rolan with his apprenticeship with lorroakan, and even the adventurer’s with their own separate journeys and determination to take down the absolute. what do you have in baldur’s gate? nothing. no family, no love, no home, and certainly no opportunity

you weep in the throne room not knowing that zevlor had managed to find a way out of the illithid colony and back inside moonrise towers. he finds you sitting at the steps leading up to the throne, weeping. when he calls your name with the gentlest voice yet filled with great worry, you jump up in shock to see him there

you at first hug him before he kisses your sweet lips. your heart is pounding at a million beats per minute. all adrenaline is rushing through your blood. he is alive and well. the only man who brings comfort and home to you is alive. there, in his bloody arms, you confide to him that you were ready to end it all. that you would rather die than live a life without him

zevlor yells at you for being so foolish. that there is more to life than just him. but he is your life, and he is the air that you breathe. and he finally understands why you would do such a harmful thing to yourself

he holds you closer to him. and you two don’t say anything. you just hug each other in a silent embrace, finally reconnected after so long of being apart

i hope u enjoyed it !! this was my first time doing headcanons so criticism is very much appreciated. also a reminder that bg3 requests are open <3

[fayes-fics]

Making an Heir

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: "An heir is needed...soon"

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, loss of innocence, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink.

Word Count: 610 (ehhh closer to 250 than I was expecting tbh)

Authors Note: Tenth in my 2k follower celebration drabble request fills. This one is for @fiction-is-life prompt is the summary (ask here). Listen, it's me; you knew you were going to get breeding kink with a prompt like that, lol. I will dedicate an upcoming full-length fic to you to compensate for this being short - i.e. an actual drabble lol. Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

He looms over you, so masculine and all-encompassing. You lay wide-eyed, panting, the pressure just… so much. Pleasant, definitely, but overwhelming. It feels like he is so deep inside you, you will never be the same again…

This - the marital act - is not at all what you were expecting. Your mother had tried to inform you, woefully ineptly as it turned out, of what to expect on your wedding night. But nothing could prepare you for when he disrobed, and you caught sight of his “member” engorged and red-tipped, almost angry looking. And then what he did with it. 

Getting you to lie down on the bed and open your legs wide as he crawled between them and first pressed his fingers inside you, whispering sweet nothings, you crying out as he brought you to a place that made you float among the stars. Then he pressed inside you—the initial stab of pain ceding to pleasure. The blunt pressure and heat unlike anything you could articulate. And then he started to move, and all your could do was cling to him, shock and tingles running through your frame.

“Anthony…” you breathe his name, your hands clamped around his shoulders as his hot, wet lips map your cheek.

“Yes darling, you are doing so well,” he groans, sounding winded, wrecked, shaking with something. “Are you ready?”

“For what, my lord?” your brow knitting. You thought this was it. Surely there cannot be more to this act?

“For my seed, darling,” he chuckles, punctuating his sentence with a sharp thrust that makes your toes curl, hooking into his calf muscles.

“What is that?” you whisper between pants. He feels even steelier inside you now; you can barely form words.

“Oh my girl….” there is that chuckle again, almost menacing, “An heir is needed….soon.”

“This?!? This is how I come to be with child?” you are so utterly astounded you cannot stop your mouth from gaping open.

“Yes, darling. You will grow the next Viscount,” he explains warmly, running a hand down between your bodies and cupping your dewy but empty belly. “Right here. But only if you lay still and take my seed like a good girl. Will you do that for me?” he pants, an errant curl slipping over his forehead as he pounds into you.

“Yes, my lord, of course,” you rush obediently, eager to please your new husband.

“Good girl… good fucking girl…” he grunts, and then you find yourself screaming as his fingers drop between your legs, and he hits a spot that blinds you; rockets you again into a celestial plane outside of yourself.

Then you feel him curl around you, his mouth steaming a litany of praise as you flutter around him, wracked sobs as you fight to get air in your lungs, stolen by how huge he feels as you convulse around him. 

“Take it,” he warns, jerking violently, then holding himself deep as he groans gutturally. “Stay down, my darling, don't move, take it all,” he murmurs, running his nose over your cheek as you feel something warm bloom inside you, his weight slumping onto you. “Well done, darling,” he compliments, pulling up slightly but still buried deep inside you as you feel his steeliness ebb away.

“What if it did not work, my lord?” you fret, running a hand down his handsome face.

“Do not worry. I will fuck you every day, all day, until you are with my child,” he assures with a handsome smile that catches your breath. Then he leans in and bites your earlobe as he slips from your body. “And even then, I won't stop. Ever.”

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @debheart @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23