#as much as it repulses me to think about it-- i know I'm closer to the shooter

[homosociallyyours]

(cw for gun violence & racism mentions in tag post)

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Every Part of You

Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series

"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."

You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.

His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."

Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.

"You're so -"

He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."

You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"

He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."

Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.

You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.

Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"

"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."

"But?"

His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."

"Oh."

He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."

It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."

He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."

"How do you know what I'm thinking?"

"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"

You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."

He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."

In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.

He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.

It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.

"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."

There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.

"I love you," you remind him.

He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.

You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.

Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.

He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.

Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"

He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.

You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"

"No," he answers reflexively.

You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."

"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."

"Does it hurt now?"

"No."

You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.

"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.

You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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[osamucide]

FLAVOR PROFILE—afab+gn!reader, angst and comfort??? smoking, alcohol, established friendship, feelings, f!masturbation, loss of virginity, body worship, biting, scratching, tiniest hint of corruption (there should've been more I’m sorry) and possessive aku, praise, fingering, penetration, creampie

ABV—6.1k

BAR OSAMUCIDE IS STRICTLY AN 18+ ESTABLISHMENT. FAILURE TO PROVIDE VALID ID/AGE IN BIO UPON INTERACTING WILL RESULT IN REMOVAL FROM THE PREMISES. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

"Really?"

He can't believe you're laughing at him. You swear you're not—you've sworn twice now. He just sighs and snatches your cigarette from you.

"I just kind of can't believe it, Ryuu," you rationalize, pressing your shoulder against his. "I'm not, I promise. I'm not laughing because it's funny. Just surprised, that's all."

Surprised, sure, alright. Look at me, he wants to spit at you, but he's hacking from holding the smoke in his lungs just a moment too long and so you work the dart from his fingers and tuck it back between your lips as he rights himself.

Akutagawa crosses his arms, not unlike a pouting child, and fixes his eyes on the brick wall across from you both and the one you lean back on as you're sat atop some wooden crate, one long discarded after a weapons shipment or whatever else. He can't help but feel a little small beneath your reaction, but you resume issuing soft kicks to the gravel beneath your feet like it was nothing—like you hadn't just drawn probably one of the most humiliating confessions out of him. He never really gave a second thought to all that before you came around, but now that he's beside you, elbows crossed over his knees as he draws them closer to himself, he suddenly feels like he should've before.

You finish your cigarette in silence, pointedly not moving away from him.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, sincerely as you chuck the butt to the ground in front of you. "Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable." But he still doesn't look at you. Akutagawa's dealing with more than one predicament at the present moment and he needs to sort them before he can turn his attention back to you.

One—he doesn't know if it would've been more or less attractive, or maybe repulsive, if he could've said, yeah, I've fucked plenty of people before, or at least I've fucked someone, and Akutagawa's aware he's a lot of filthy things, but apparently he's neither a liar nor a whore, and it leads him right to his second predicament, which is this: why does he care whether you find him attractive or repulsive?

How long has he care what you think of him at all? And last: what does it mean, that he does?

It's that last one that his thoughts get snagged on.

You tap your foot beneath you. This alleyway is where you always drag him off to when you feel like getting away from work. He can hardly remember the last time he said no to you when it came to escaping Mori's iron rule for an hour or so. But he wishes he would've today, kind of like he wishes he would've skipped the only other time he can recall wishing to have skipped—the day you let him smoke one of your cigarettes.

It's funny how your conversation from that day parallels the exchange from minutes ago. It sticks in his mind right now. You, at least two years younger and having known him on a much more superficial level than you do now, had laughed a little; it makes him feel only marginally better about you laughing now. Even then you were reassuring him, not because it's funny, but just because—I don't know, that's what I do when I’m surprised, I guess. He's always envied your ability to find joy in small things like that, after all.

You didn't make him feel small just now. He finds ways to do that all on his own; he knows that. He must've been weak back then because he'd inhaled less tar than you, and he hated that, so he did it when you offered. But now, here he was. You know he's never even kissed anyone, let alone fucked. The sensical pattern, thinking back to that day when you tapped a cigarette out of your pack for him, lit it off your own, good-naturedly patted his back as the coughs raged out of him because he inhaled it all down way too fast for someone with clean lungs—

Where exactly would that lead now, logically?

It's not like he's never thought about it. But you don't need to know that.

Akutagawa turns his his head away from you, chin on his arms. He can feel his face burn. He won't let you see.

But he knows you now, and you know him. And he knows you'll offer anyway.

You sit in silence, maybe ten minutes more, kicking the ground and letting your eyes flutter open and shut, before you pull another smoke out of your pack and stick it in your mouth.

“Well,” you mumble as your lighter flicks, “If you wanna change that…”

He doesn’t move. He can still feel the crate trembling from how you tap your foot, which is good, because he’s a little restless himself. You draw off your cigarette; he sees the smoke dissipate in his peripheral as your head falls back to rest on the brick. What he doesn’t see is your little half-smirk, but he knows it’s there.

It’s not that Akutagawa doesn’t like you. Anyone that knows him well can probably see he likes you, or at least tolerates you—he lets you drag him here week after week, shift after shift, after all. He gives you grace, even if it’s small, when you fuck up on jobs—something he never gives to anyone else, hardly even Chuuya. He doesn’t flinch or swat you away when you absentmindedly pull him in some direction by his elbow or his wrist; he doesn’t scoff at you when you lean up against him, like you are right now, and shift away from you or push you off like he might even with Gin. To someone who doesn’t know him, he probably looks indifferent to you at worst, and indifference and tolerance, and maybe even liking, tend to go hand-in-hand when it comes to the wielder of Rashoumon. He’s not outright evil to you, and that’s enough—if for no one else, for you. But you know him by now.

And because you know him, you know what he’ll say next.

“No.”

And it’s not because he doesn’t like you, which is why you’ll do what you do next, and he knows you will because he knows you, too, by now—enough to maybe like you—you’ll press him.

“Aw, why not?” It drawls out of you lightheartedly, almost jokingly.

It might have something to do with the fact that you’ve never looked at him with fear, disgust, or hatred in your eyes—not even before you knew one another so well and he would regularly, in response to your antics, threaten to beat you to a pulp with his black beast. It might have something to do with how you seem to look right through him like that, and then inadvertently boost his ego by telling him you think he totally has the capacity to be cool, or even normal, doing things like fucking and smoking cigarettes. He wants to laugh at how silly it all sounds to him. Akutagawa’s never been good at letting himself understand why you make him feel the way you do. Why he deserves your kindness or companionship. Why you can’t see him for what he is: a war machine, configured from birth, far beyond—or maybe beneath—any sort of semblance of a normal destiny that includes indulgence. Love. It would make him respect you less, hate you, maybe, if it wasn’t so secretly pleasant, the fact that you don’t look at him like that. The fact that you seem to think he does deserve something more than misery.

I have a feeling this is gonna be a long partnership, so it’d be a lot more fun if you smoked! You said that the day you were assigned to each other, before you knew about his lung condition, and he knew he shouldn’t have ever accepted your offer that day in this very alleyway because he ended up liking the head high cigarettes gave him, even if it was horrible for him.

The same way he likes you, and it makes him unbearably soft. The same way he’d probably like kissing you. Fucking you. Another thing that’ll kill him one day, one way or another. He knows if he gets any closer than he is, and then for some reason you leave—die, run away, decide your relationship is awkward now and he’s horrible and you hate him, whatever—it’d kill him, undoubtedly. Better not to smoke the cigarette. Better not to fuck the only real friend he thinks he’s had since he was watching his back every moment he lived in the slums. Anything that felt good was almost certainly a trap laid to hurt him.

“Because,” he huffs.

If for sole annoyance or disgust, he would’ve bitched you out. But he doesn’t. You note this. So, you let it go. Because you know him.

“Alright,” you sigh. Not disappointed, not dismissive. Just affirming and understanding. It blows his mind all over again. He doesn't move, doesn't look at you. "Well, I suppose we should get back." Your eyes flick to your wristwatch. "Kouyou wanted us for something in about a half hour."

Some silly meeting in some bar. Chuuya's not there to keep her from getting off topic, so Akutagawa sits beneath the low light (on the edge of the booth, thank god), you next to him, while your superior's ordering another round of whisky sodas for the table.

When Kouyou distributes the drinks, Akutagawa slides his toward you, which you then slide to the man on your other side. His name's Shota—one of Chuuya's subordinates—and he takes it off your hands happily. You nestle your own between your hands on the tabletop.

"But as I was saying," the scarlet-haired woman continues, "it's going to have to happen over the weekend. I don't think it's wise to do anything until Nakahara's back from Tokyo, which will be Friday at the earliest, and the tracking number for the Makarov shipment on its way in got thrown in the trash so Hirotsu's going to have to..."

Akutagawa's gaze trains steadily on your hands; his own are busy, one propping his chin up, the other circling rings over the rim of his first and only glass, now empty. It's not out of the ordinary for him to tune out of Kouyou's tipsy ramblings, especially when Chuuya will be back in a few days to explain the game plan concisely and soberly. What is out of the ordinary is that he's still stiff, thinking about your conversation from the alleyway and the tone in which you so nonchalantly cooed aw, why not? Almost as if you'd been a little disappointed when he said no, he wouldn't take you up on your offer. Were you? He has to doubt it. You've always been a little too eager to get him fucked up on Chuuya's wine, drag him out of work, pull him out of his comfort zone—he'd seen the unmistakable excitement on your face the first time you'd jammed a cigarette between his lips. But that is way too far out of his wheelhouse, and he's pretty sure you both know it.

Even if he does keep thinking about it.

You, well—you sip your second whisky and take note of his fidgeting. Although your drink’s only half gone, you tap your foot against his, glancing between him and the door; he looks at you, then back down at his empty glass, clears his throat and nods ever so subtly. Code exhcange for I'm bored, wanna leave? Of course. So when the conversation lulls, you both stand.

"Kazuha has us at eight-thirty," you explain, bidding everyone good evening and seeing yourselves out the door before anyone has the chance to ask what for.

"Kazuha? That was the best lie you could come up with?"

"Are we still sitting in there or not?" you refute, cigarette dangling from your mouth as you walk with your hands behind your head in the direction of headquarters. "Can't wait to get home."

"Yeah, after your hard day," Akutagawa mutters.

"Hey, watch it," you poke. "I moved shit all morning. Need a shower bad."

Which is exactly what you do after you depart from your partner and scamper up to your apartment. But first you take the liberty of lighting a few candles, cracking your bathroom window for a breeze, dancing around to a little music as a bath full of lavender salts warms, and rubbing out your sore knees with that pain relief oil Higuchi recommended to you. It's true, you did spend all morning getting shipments from the port; the less luxurious side of the life and work of a mafioso moving their way up the ladder isn't something you're unfamiliar with, although you do it less now.

You settle in, sighing. Maybe it's wrong to still be thinking about it, but you had sort of hoped Akutagawa would take to your little quip earlier with at least a hint of curiosity, or bring it up on your walk home even if just to tell you how absurd it was that you'd even think such a thing; perhaps you should've been more deliberate, you think. Or maybe it's a good thing that you weren't. He's one of the last people you'd want to make things weird with—outside of being the (rather oblivious) object of your affection, he's still your coworker and, as of recent years, very best friend. Somewhat of a literal partner in crime. You snicker at that as your shoulders dip below the water. You momentarily debate trying to dismiss your little feelings for the night, and you will, for the most part—but while you're relieving physical tension under the soft flicker of your candles and the hum of the city below you, you figure you might as well dispel your disappointment, too, and you trace your fingers down the curve of your hip to find yourself wet in a way that has nothing to do with the water.

Meanwhile, Akutagawa is pacing his living quarters. He's already taken a cold shower to stave off what has only become more difficult not to think about now that you're gone—he doesn't have to hold it together for you or anyone, and he finds himself trying to sit still on the edge of his bed as his phone sits a few feet away on the nightstand. Should he text you about it? Call you? Fuck that—you do a fine job of flustering him when you're barely trying, but if he let you know—god, if he let you know, he'd never hear the end of it. Text or call you to talk about anything else, even if just to hear your voice and have your presence? No, he has a feeling that would drive him even further up the tree he's chased himself up; he's sitting, tapping his foot like you were earlier when he should've been able to answer you normally, his apartment is dead silent, his dick's half-hard in his sweatpants and he doesn't know what to do.

You probably weren't even serious. If he was smart, he would've jacked off in the shower and called it a night.

But he likes you. More than you realize—more than you can realize, because he's always stone-faced, no-bullshit, hard-ass Akutagawa and he doesn't know how to be anything else, even when you're around and ecouraging him to loosen up. You can't possibly realize how much you've done for him in terms of easing his anxiety over always being good enough, in terms of helping him understand his humanity, in terms of making him feel like a real person.

He suddenly feels like he's on a tightrope of keeping you close and messing it all up, and whichever way he decides to fall will inevitably bring unending frustration that he could've done something different, something better.

And maybe this is an opening. Or a pinnacle that his relationship with you was doomed to come to. Either way, he can't sit in his apartment. Marching forward, like he always does—no matter how hesitantly—he slips his jacket on and shoves his keys in his pocket before he's heading for the elevator.

It's not until he's staring at the interface of buttons that he decides between launching himself to the ground for a long walk along the port or punching in your floor.

And you're so close—your back's arching, your jaw hangs slack, you're spilling water down the side of the tub that pools on the floor, but you'll worry about it later—when you hear manic pounding coming from your hallway. Maybe it's not yours, you think, screwing your eyes shut and working your fingers back and forth in tight circles around your clit because you want it, damn it, but your apartment's so damn big that it's almost impossible to conceive of it being for anyone else.

"One minute!" you shout, rising out of the water with grumbling breath to wrap yourself in a towel and blow all your candles out in one swipe. But whoever it is doesn't hear you, or doesn't care—the harsh knocking pattern booms again, and you almost trip over your pile of discarded work clothes as you fumble out of the bathroom wondering what could possibly be so important, and on account of who, that they had to interrupt your first hour of alone time all day, not to mention when you were so deliciously close to an orgasm you'd been working yourself up to with painstaking care. You'd even edged yourself a little, just because you figured you had time; you would've gotten it over with if you'd have known you were on call, but here you are, unsatisfied and stomping to your door, about to crack it open and take whatever orders were about to be unloaded onto you with a smile and can-do attitude.

You fling the door open.

“What?”

Akutagawa’s fist is still raised to knock. You watch his eyes behind his sunglasses as they flit down to you—you in nothing but a towel—and his face breaks out in a blush you’ve never seen on him before.

If you were any less annoyed, you would’ve smirked.

“Ryuu, what?” you snap again as his hand falls to his side. Whatever it is, if someone needs backup, if it’s urgent, you wish he’d tell you already—it’s so unlike him to stand speechless that you almost want to ask if something else is going on. “Can you spit it out so I know if I should get dressed, please?”

No, he wants to croak out, but you’ll just keep barraging him with questions—all he does is fumble his way inside your apartment with please don’t get dressed on the back of his tongue and that really strange, dazed look behind his glasses. He can't even blame the alcohol from earlier—he only had one, and it's had ample time to wear off.

“Ryuunosuke—”

He freezes where he is, steely eyes locking onto yours, and his voice leaves him, hoarse. “Say that again, please.”

You look at him incredulously, scrunching your towel up beneath your fist that holds it up. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Akutagawa feels small again. This was the wrong decision. He should’ve gone for that walk. He should’ve jerked off in the shower and then went to bed and tossed and turned until he finally fell into an erratic sleep and he should not be here, he should wake up tomorrow morning, sleep-deprived and full of regret but knowing he’s safe because he didn’t go to your apartment to find you in nothing but a towel and he spared your relationship, he didn’t make it weird, and he’d look at you longingly for the rest of however long, only when you weren’t looking just so you’d never know how much agony your stupid little joke from earlier today put him in.

But you’re expecting an answer, and out of all the filthy things Akutagawa is convinced he is, he is not a liar.

His eyes fly to the ground. Your legs, knocking together from the chill of the water droplets that still cling to them.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about earlier,” he forces out. “What you said.”

You hesitate. “What I said…?” Had you said something wrong?

Great, he thinks, mouth falling open. So you weren’t serious.

“You know what, nevermind.” He shouldn’t be here. He goes to push past you, toward your still-open door, but you stop him, shutting the door and pushing a palm against his chest.

“Tell me,” you mean to say, but it sounds more like a question; his pale face flushes again, and you search him with your gaze. He seems to shrink a little more before he sighs and looks to you once more.

“If I wanted to change that I’ve never…”

You wait.

“Kissed.”

You blink, cock your head.

“Or fucked anyone.”

Your hand lets up on his chest, and you find yourself taking a step back—little, but it sends your partner reeling into self-doubt all over again.

“You want…” You speak, quietly, with less urgency than you have thus far. “You wanna fuck me?”

And Akutagawa’s nodding, more frantically than his pride would prefer. But he’s nodding. Not looking at you. Waiting for you to laugh and clap him on the shoulder with a yeah, as if and tell him to go home.

But your fingers slide up to curl along the side of his neck. When his eyes are still downcast, you cup his jaw in your palm.

“Ryuu, look at me.”

Here it comes. The big rejection. He’s ready. He’ll go home and punch a hole in his wall, but he’s ready to hold it together right now.

His eyes drift to yours again, still cold and nervous, like a dog’s when it’s about to bite.

But you smile, trace your thumb along his bottom lip, and whisper.

He has no idea how much you mean what you're saying next.

“I wish you would’ve just led with that.”

It’s like bombs are about to detonate in his brain. He knows what he should do next—he should kiss you, he should throw himself at you and let your tongue between his lips, but part of the reason why he’s here is because he never has, and he trusts you to show him—just what kind of weak has he become, trusting someone with their teeth so close to his throat? It doesn’t matter because he wants it, he just wants you to—

“Show me, please.”

To his displeasure, you don't latch onto him like a hungry animal. Instead, your fingers drift down to his and wind between them; you lead him past the couch to your bedroom, sit him down, and pull your towel a little tighter around you. He wants it off, he wants to see you—even if the thought of sitting naked himself, in front of you, makes his stomach flip, he wants nothing more than to tear the towel away, get to exploring the ways you like to be touched, hear sounds from you he's never heard before.

"Ryuu," you say, one hand on his shoulder. "Be sure you want this."

"I do," he squeaks out, hardly ever having heard his own voice so meek.

"Tell me. Say it."

"I want it," his words follow yours seamlessly, without another thought. He's already established in his mind that he trusts you. But he's still sort of waiting for you to start chuckling and tell him this is a big joke; his hands tremble as you stare, digging for uncertainty, but you don't find any. So as you hold your towel against you, you crawl carefully onto his lap, astride his waist.

And now, he has you. Between his fingers. They find the curve of your waist as you curl an arm around the back of his neck after you work the jacket off from around his shoulders, tear his glasses off, push his soft bangs from his face. Akutagawa looks at you with so much wonder, so much need; you set your weight on him, and you feel him, and his nails grip your ass through the towel.

"Please, don't be gentle," he whispers when your lips hover immediately over his. He can feel your breath, warm and inviting, as the tip of your nose brushes past his.

You smile into his mouth and wrap your other arm around him.

You let the towel fall as you kiss him.

Hot, slow.

And the bombs go off all at once. Before the towel can pool over his hands he's batting it to the floor, scooting back onto your mattress to accomodate you; he wants to shut his eyes but you grind down against him through his pants as your lips mold against his and he’s probably never felt so alert in his life. Akutagawa gasps in a certain way, another sound he's never heard himself make; when your fingers tangle into the hair at the back of his head, he groans, grips your waist, and his eyes melt shut, finally.

You kiss him until he's putty, and he follows your lead; you grab his wrists and guide his hands to your chest, which has his eyes flying open all over again as he feels his fingerpads twitch over your nipples. You work him onto his back, easing him down with your tongue against his, so warm, so wet; your teeth, harsh in his bottom lip, where your thumb stroked so tenderly before, force his hips in a circle, and, oh, god, you have him losing it already, completely helpless, completely breathless.

You pull back, grinning, before grabbing for the buttons on his shirt.

"This okay?"

It's not okay, it's insane. His pants are too tight. He's never needed someone like this. And you look so angelic above him waiting for him to nod, give you a small yes, before you work him out of his shirt next, taking care to trace every ridge and valley of his ribs and abdomen as you do. He shivers when it's gone, discarded with his jacket and glasses; his arms come to cover himself but you trace those, too, the dips in his lean muscle and severities of his shoulders, collarbones, elbows, wrists. Just as he thinks he might feel too vulnerable, you start mapping him out with a softness he's never felt before; he wants to sink into it, keep it forever. If he wasn't so painfully hard, he might not even need to fuck you; just laying, relaxing into the sheets beneath him as you look at him like he's beautiful, is a heaven of its own.

"You're so pretty, Ryuu," you mutter. You hunch to bite the juncture of his throat and shoulder, then soothe it with a kiss. "So, so fucking pretty. You know that?"

Akutagawa shudders again. "I told you not to be gentle."

You bite him once more, grinding your bare cunt along his clothed cock, and a groan throttles from his chest. After doing the same to the opposite side of his neck, your lips meet his again, and he forgets about shielding himself in favor of letting his hands rock you back and forth against him.

You feel him twitch below you as you work him into nothing but impatient breath and swollen lips; your irritation from not reaching your climax earlier doubles back on you in a wave of arousal, and you’re guiding him out of his pants and boxers at the same time, and thank god that’s all that’s left and that you’re so turned on already because when the tip of his pale cock hits his abs, all you can think about is sinking down onto it, feeling it fill you up and pulse inside you.

But you wait, looking at him low-lidded and asking him, “You want me on top, or you?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he curses, twisting a leg into the bend of your knee at his side; you’re not weak by any means, but in one smooth movement he’s got you on your back, pinned down by your wrists. “If you’re going to be gentle, then I won’t.”

Wasting no time. You almost giggle but you’re gasping, his eagerness streamlining into a searing kiss to your mouth and one of his rough hands snaking down to collect the wetness pooling between your thighs.

He knows he should touch you. He knows that much. He wants to know—

“Where? Tell me where,” he growls into your mouth, and you guide him by his wrist and fingers once again to draw tight circles over your clit—ones that make you arch, and after feeling how you do it he burns it into his brain, the movement you’re guiding him through that sends your head lolling onto the pillow. Akutagawa’s eyes widen. He could watch your expression replay for hours.

“That’s it,” you encourage him, breathy, letting him go as he memorizes your rhythm. “Feels so good.”

You bring your two wet fingers up to his mouth, which he accepts without hesitance; his tongue swirls around them and you realize how serious he is—he doesn’t want it slow and you’re losing your resolve against him and you think you need him in you, right now.

He stills when you reach for his cock, dark hair swaying as his gaze trails your hand; he sits back, heaving, as he rubs you, as you stroke him and smear a pathetically large bead of precum across his tip and down his length. Trying desperately not to stop, to keep making you feel good, he throws his head back when you squeeze just beneath the head of his cock and pull him back toward you by his shoulder.

“Wan’ you to fuck me, Ryuu,” you whine, lining him up with your weeping hole. He’s pushing in with hardly a second thought, and, oh—he’s groaning in yet another way he’s never heard before, watching himself disappear into you, bracing himself on your forearms until he fills you up to hilt. So wet, so warm. He hardly realizes how ragged his breath is until he hears your own.

You squirm, and after he presses another series of messy kisses to your lips to stifle the noises of pleasure leaving him that would be so humiliating if he wasn’t so drunk on you, you hold him by his chin and look so deeply into his eyes that he’s afraid for a second you’re doing that thing where you look right through him into his very soul, but your mouth is forming around words that he must hear, he must hang onto, you have to tell him what to do, and you do—

“Don’t be gentle.”

So he isn’t. He moves, on nothing but your words and intuition and the way you clench around him; there’s virtually no resistance when he pulls out, slams back in, pulls out, slams back in—and he loses himself in it so quickly, so noisily.

“Unh—fuck—” Your name leaves his lips like a song that has you linking your ankles behind his back as he writhes, pounds into you—and you understand all over again, he wasn’t kidding. He doesn’t want it slow. And neither do you, you realize, now that he’s dragging his perfect cock along your insides so deliciously.

He realizes something too, as he falls to his elbows and buries his open mouth into your neck; that he never wants anyone else to hear the sounds either of you are making ever again. He doesn't care that you're more experienced than him, or that your relationship is irrevocably changed now that this is happening; you're going to be the first and last person that ever hears him moaning like this, that ever has him blushing from face to chest at the lewd sounds that your bodies emit where they meet and then part each time he pistons in and out of you. You’re clawing at him, raking tracks down his back and biceps that spur him to a pace he didn’t know he was capable of—he can’t wait to see them in the mirror tomorrow when the rawness has left and they’re angry red, a testament to how quickly he’s learning you, how quickly you’re both falling apart, how much he thinks he loves you.

Yeah, he thinks he loves you—it’s muffled by your skin, but he’s saying it, he can’t help it, he can’t keep it in his lungs if he’s going to keep this pace up.

“Love you, Ryuu,” you echo, and he echoes you right back like he didn’t start it.

“Love you.” Thrust. “Love you.” Thrust. “Love you—mmh!”

"My good boy," you croon when he reaches down to touch you, to feel you squeezing him down on him. Your good boy. You could turn him into a whore if you kept saying that.

"My name, please," he breathes, high-pitched, almost wheezing; you hold him as close to your body as you can, shortening his unstoppable thrusts against the spot inside you that makes your toes curl, pushes rhythmic moans from your throat, and his hands are all over you, begging for it in his rough grips that undulate into soft caresses back to harsh nails back to gentle strokes.

"Ryuunosuke—" you choke out, "Don't—" Gasp. "—fucking—" Gasp. "—stop!"

The most gorgeous strand of strained moans, gasps, and growls leave him as his head batters insatiably against your cervix; he’s falling off that tightrope, and you’re catching him, all his shaking fingers and trembling thighs that still momentarily before he can warn you, before he can tell you—

"Cum in me," you sigh as you feel him, feel yourself breaking, coming undone as he forces his sounds down your throat; you swallow them all, crying out against his lips as he bites you, furrows his brow, pulls back to bore into your clouded gaze—he's sure he looks the same if not worse, more unraveled, mouth open, lips wet, when you arch back and pull him flush against you and he's cumming, taking you for every last bit you'll give him until you're hypersensitive, fluttering around him, helping him make a sticky mess beneath the both of you as his head falls forward again, into your shoulder, restless, groaning with aftershock, until his lips meet yours and he kisses you, kisses you, kisses you, neither of you ready to come down yet.

But soon enough you're reduced to exhausted writhing, slow bites, fingers through his hair and he's spent—pleasantly so. Weak, not in the way he feels after he's been brought to his knees by a formidable foe but in a way he will not be content to part with; a comfortable resignation that he could make a home in.

Akutagawa wraps himself around you, and you kick the blanket at your feet up until you can pull it over his shoulders and tuck your nose into his forehead.

"Still kind of don't believe you've never done that before," you think out loud, voice a little absent from how you’ve been sobbing for him.

And Akutagawa finds himself smiling into your skin. He sounds just as much of a wreck. "Never. Not until now."

It was good. Not only was it good, but you can feel him softening inside you, and you want him to stay.

"Meant it, by the way."

Then he looks up at you, quizzically. That strange, dazed look is in his eyes again.

But you just look back at him. Push his bangs back, mirror his tired smile. Wipe the drying sheen of sweat from across his brow.

When it clicks, he's buried in your neck again. Grumbling. "I meant it, too."

You hug yourself impossibly tighter around him, muttering his name, rolling you both to your sides where you cup his face once more, pressing smooches all over him, less heated and more playful, and Akutagawa scrunches his nose as you pepper him and start mumbling in between—

"Love you. Love you. Love you."

He catches you in your tirade and kisses you like you first kissed him—slow, deep. His own love you whispered, almost imperceptible. He'll stay. "Thank you. Love you."

Like he never knew he was capable of loving. He’s not uncomfortable. For once. For real. You caught him when he was falling. He hopes you’ll keep doing it.

But right now, he only has one more question.

"Do you have any cigarettes?"

You reach across him, over to your nightstand. “Who do you think I am?”

My angel, he thinks in response as you nudge the filter between his lips to light it. You, in control, let him puff before you steal it for yourself.

And he’s yours. The Port Mafia’s ferocious Hellhound is your good boy, your angel.

You’ll love him until he believes it.

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 7 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warnings(s): i feel like the theme is pretty established by now, still homophobia. negative talk about weight. a brief segment about Mr George's A+ parenting. as in, he's bad at it.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 8

You accosted Cady Heron after Ms Norbury's calculus class. You took her by the purse strap and hauled her to the janitor's closet, ignoring all her indignant chirping.

You'd been stewing the whole class, glaring daggers at the back of her stupid orange hair.

"You've crossed a line." You said once the door shut behind you. She was cowering against the wall, looking like a cornered animal. "Those fucking Kälteen bars were too much."

"What? What're you talking about?" She tried to lie, to seem tough like the popular girl she was so desperately trying to be.

"I'm talking about the so-called weight loss bars you gave to Regina." You hissed, stepping closer so you loomed over her. You really wanted to get your point across. "It wasn't very hard to search up what they're really for. You don't mess with someone's body like that."

"She had it coming!" Cady finally relented, looking up at you defiantly. "She- she took Aaron from me and made out with him right in front of me all the time and then she just threw him away!" She yelled, hands clenched to fists and a red flush of rage blotching her freckled face. "All she does is spite me." She added with venom.

"Aaron isn't some trophy for either of you to own." You implored, trying to not react to her raised, aggressive tone. It would be mortifying to cry now. "I'm not saying she didn't do anything wrong, but Cady that's fucked up. You need to apologize."

"Why? Why in the world should I apologize to her? She hasn't apologized to anyone even though she's probably done something to everyone in this hellhole."

"Two wrongs don't make a right. I know that's cliche as hell, but what did you think you'd achieve?"

"We were trying to topple her. Make her lose her status. By making her gain weight, well, she'd get all ugly."

You shivered in repulsion. Regina had already sunken her claws deep into this girl.

"I... I honestly don't know what to say to you." Defeated, you said one last thing: "I'm out. I'm not taking part in your scheming anymore and I don't want to hear about it."

"It's not like you did anything!" Cady huffed.

"Exactly." You sighed. "I didn't do shit." She looked confused at that, but you didn't rightly care.

With that, you stepped out of the closet. This would probably be the only instance you'd step out of the closet, figuratively, in high school. A small victory, maybe.

"What were you doing in the janitor's closet?" You almost bumped into Regina.

Too stunned to hear her speak to you in public, you didn't get to answer before Cady stepped out as well. Her face was still flush and her clothes were a bit messy from you dragging her through the hall.

Regina's expression turned stormy. She seemed to coil back, tension rising in her body as she took stock of the state of you. You could do nothing but stare as she levelled Cady with a murderous look.

When she turned to you, you nearly flinched back. Not only was she angry, furious really, but you'd hurt her. It was clear in the way she was breathing hard and heavy, how she was shuddering the lightest bit, how her lips pinched together. When Regina was angry, only angry, she went cold. It wasn't like this. This was something worse.

"Reg," You tried to say something and went to touch her arm.

"Don't." Don't call me that. Don't touch me. She hissed, hurt turning to fear as she looked around you. People weren't staring, luckily you hadn't caused a scene, but there were always eyes on Regina.

You looked down at your shoes and, with great reluctance, walked away. It was considerably harder to keep from crying now.

Not feeling up to geography, you went to your usual spot. The number of cigarettes you smoked in a day was starting to get a little too much. You couldn't find it in yourself to care now.

Once you arrived behind the bleachers, you tossed your backpack onto the grass and sat on it. The ground was cold and getting colder by the day. Soon enough it'd snow.

What the fuck were you doing? You'd impulsively confronted Cady, angry for Regina's sake, but you hadn't been able to really say anything to her. You'd asked her what she was trying to achieve, and all the while you had no idea of what you wanted.

You wanted everything to be okay. That was vague. You wanted Regina to be not nice, but herself. She wasn't vindictive by nature. You wanted her to apologize, but couldn't open your fucking mouth and say that. You wanted Cady to stay the fuck away from her, same went for Janis and Damien.

You weren't so dumb as to expect you'd be able to convince anyone. You didn't have any weight in these people's lives. You barely existed. For Regina to change, something drastic needed to happen. Something like a fall from grace, you grudgingly admitted. It would change her, but it would also hurt her. You didn't want to do that. Maybe if her dad changed. Then again, even if he changed that wouldn't erase the past. Maybe Cady could move her somehow. Regina had taken her under her wing, after all, though for misguided reasons. Maybe there was something there.

(The pattern was hard to miss. Regina rounding up pretty girls around her. When you no longer measured up to her standards, she got Janis. Then she threw her away. Eventually, she found Karen and Gretchen. Now, Cady was next.)

You heard approaching footsteps and crossed your fingers, hoping it wasn't a teacher. Soon enough, Janis 'Imi'ike appeared before you in all her gothy glory.

"Gimme one." She demanded as she squatted down in front of you.

"That'll be fifty cents." You said back. There was only one person you'd share your pack with for free.

Janis tsked. "Fine." She reached into her pockets and after a bit of rifling handed you a coin. You pocketed it and offered the pack to her.

"Got a lighter?" She asked with the stick in her mouth. You tossed it to her. "Thanks."

You took the lighter back. She didn't say anything for a while. You could appreciate that, even if you didn't want to talk to her at all.

"So, you're out."

"Yup." You took a drag. "Espionage isn't for me."

"Even though you ruined all our plans?" You'd hoped they hadn't realized you were the mole, but you supposed that'd been naïve.

"Yeah. I'm not built for it." You looked at the slowly burning smoke between your fingers. "Y'know, you're not so different."

"What? Me and who?" She adjusted on her perch. The black eyeliner around her eyes made them look huge.

"Regina." She looked about ready to punch you. "What she did to you was evil, I know. It's not about that."

"Then what is it about?" She took an angry drag. It looked ridiculous. Sucking on the filter hard enough to scrunch her lips. You closed your eyes for a moment to not be so amused by it.

"You want revenge 'cause you were wronged. Regina, she..." You didn't want to sell her vulnerabilities to her mortal enemy, but you wanted to try and reach Janis. "She's been hurt too. It's not the same, exactly, but she's not doing this because she's rotten inside."

"You don't know shit," Janis snarled, cig nearly snapping in half in her tight grip. "You're just trying to sympathise-"

"Yes, I'm trying to sympathise with her, is that so wrong?" You interrupted her, frustrated she wasn't listening to you. Or maybe she was and just not liking what she heard. If that were the case, your words meant nothing and you were a fool for trying. Still, you kept going.

"This one time, Reg and I- I mean, Regina and I,-" You knew it was futile to hope Janis hadn't noticed your slip-up. "We were climbing the apple trees in their backyard. We had a great time, sitting up there and eating the small, sour apples, just being kids. When we got back, though, we ran into Mr George.

"Regina had on a white sundress. It was covered in grass stains and bits of tree bark. Mr George got so angry. He started yelling right in her ear, I don't even remember what he said. I was so afraid. Regina just stood there, staring at nothing. We were holding hands and she just went limp. It was as if she was used to it, like she knew exactly what to do.

"Then, he told her to get the dress to Mrs George immediately. And no dessert that day. As soon as we got away from him, I burst out crying. Poor Regina didn't know how to console me, so she just took me to her mom. She was sorting laundry in the mudroom, I think, and as soon as she saw us she just said: "Rick yelled?" Like it was so normal. Regina started crying then too."

You took a drag. "I can't stop you from seeking revenge. But I guess I'm asking you to. I'm asking the same of her. She doesn't need to take her revenge against the world, either."

Janis picked at her nailpolish. All black except for the ring finger, which was a shoddy rainbow. "If you think that sob story's gonna convince me, think again. So what, her dad yelled at her so it's okay for her to, hmm, let's go down the list, uhhh, belittle her supposed friends, degrade random passers-by, steal boyfriends like it's a hobby, breed eating disorders, and so on. Riddle me that."

"Where do you think Regina learned to treat others the way she does? Where did she learn that in order to be safe, she needed to be above everybody, that she needed to be in command at all times? Where did she learn that she needed to be mean to gain that authority? Not just mean, but vicious and cruel and fucking scathing." You raved, voice rising. "Riddle me that, Janis."

"Her daddy issues don't take away the choices she's made!"

"No, they don't, but they explain them. Doesn't intent make any difference to you?"

"You're seriously telling me she didn't intend to ruin my life when she told everybody in school that I was a lesbian?"

"I'm telling you she's a bad person, a flawed person, but redeemable. I'm not asking you to change your opinion, I'm asking you not to take this stupid revenge idea any further." You paused to take a breath. "Janis, I'm... I'm a lesbian too. She's not inherently bad."

"What?" Her voice was like a whisper.

"Yeah. I came out to her when we were, like, eleven." You'd known so early because you'd been crushing on your best friend. Wonder who that'd been. "Looking back on it now, I think she ditched me for you."

"And then she left me too, fucked me over, and moved on to her next victim." Janis looked shell-shocked. Did you really pass as straight so well? Or was her gaydar all wonky? "She- she didn't tell anybody?"

"No, I don't think so. I've never gotten any shit for it. Or, well, I have 'cuz I look pretty butch, but not like that."

Janis just looked at you, cigarette burning away. You took a pointed drag. She copied you.

"She's not homophobic. She just didn't like me." Janis said, mostly to herself it seemed. You couldn't tell what she was thinking or if this information had changed anything.

"Does that make it better or worse?"

"I don't know. It still hurts." You could understand that. "I need to talk to Damien about this."

"Don't spread any of this around." She looked at you sharply. "Obviously you're gonna tell him, I didn't mean that."

"Well. Good." She stood up and stretched her legs. "I'll think about your proposition." She said as she stumped the cig out with her boot.

You scoffed. "Bye." Proposition.

Her consideration would have to be enough for you. You stumped your own smoke as well. There was little time left to contemplate lighting a new one when yet another client came to your outdoor office. You could start charging visitors with the amount of people coming in and out of your alcove.

Regina stood above you, face still conveying not-good things, but the glassy surface of her eyes had disappeared.

"Move aside." She commanded. You shuffled off of your backpack obediently, planting your ass on the damp grass without complaint. Her pants were more expensive anyway.

"I was telling Cady she'd overstepped." You blurted before she could get a word out. "I'm sorry if it was, like, a bad move I just... I felt like I needed to say something."

"Yeah, well, that was stupid. You shouldn't have made it seem like you knew me." You winced sadly. "I don't need you to defend my honour. And you also totally ruined any leverage I had with that."

"I'm sorry." You kept your head down, looking intently at the grass.

"Hmm." She just hummed. You couldn't read her like you usually could, preoccupied with keeping yourself calm. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

Confused by the sudden topic change, you looked at her. She was leaning her elbow on her knee, her temple on her fist. She had on a little smile, like she hadn't just shamed you. You should've probably been relieved. She wasn't mad. But you were still in it.

"Uh, I'm..." You shrugged, trying to regulate. "Dad isn't coming home, if that's what you're asking."

"Okay, you're coming to mine for Thanksgiving." She said so easily. "Mom will be thrilled."

"What? Thanksgiving at the Georges?"

"That sounds like a shitty TV show. Like Seinfeld."

"I'm serious, Regina." You swallowed. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It'll be fine. If you act like you did the other night, everybody will be charmed." She grinned like that was an inside joke between you two. "Only my aunt and cousin, mom's side, are coming. I think you've met Riley. Aunt Josie is cool."

You were starting to feel sick. You knew her, at least thought you knew her, but her switching up how she treated you whenever she felt like it was getting tiring. What did she want from you? How were you supposed to act? Could you even ask without her getting mad or you embarrassing yourself?

You had conviction in that you liked her, wanted to protect her, and would be on her side, but was that enough? Did you have enough strength to sustain the rollercoaster that was Regina George? It felt as if there was no other option than to keep riding. You couldn't exactly jump off unless you were prepared for certain death.

"I've met Riley." Your tone must've been telling of how drained you were feeling. Regina tilted her head at you.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just tired." You didn't want to be around people for the rest of the day. You wished you could just go home, nap, and have Regina there. Your Reggie, a little bitchy but funny, the side of her she only seemed to show when you were in private.

"You could go home." Her suggestion was tempting.

"No, dad's gonna yell at me again if I skip any more classes." He'd already called you earlier that month. It hadn't been pleasant, to put it nicely. Fifteen minutes of him berating you over the phone felt like a split second compared to the hour-long rants he'd go on when he was home. So, it could've been worse.

"I'll come over to yours later." She stated rather than asked. Obviously, you had to say yes, however reluctantly. "We could go shopping, too."

"You'd take me shopping?" Now that was new. You couldn't help but be a little pleased by that.

"Grocery shopping."

Oh.

"Mom says it's best to get some of the ingredients for Thanksgiving early." Regina recounted, crossing her arms and leaning against the metal backing. Your backpack had her elevated so she was a little above you. A change in pace.

Even her lower chin looked good. Damn.

"This early, though?"

"You know her. She's neurotic."

"Maybe a little bit."

"So, you'll come?" Resigned, you nodded. "I'll come to yours and we'll go."

"Why aren't we taking your car?"

"It's too recognisable. Duh." Yeah. Of course. How could you forget? "We're going pretty late, too. Less foot traffic."

You hummed. It wasn't as if you could change society. Even if things were different with Regina, you still couldn't be seen getting too cosy with her. You could like her from a distance and that was that. You could be a good friend and that should've been plenty. Really, above anything, you wanted her to be happy. With or without you.

That thought grated on you. You didn't want to lose her. You weren't sure if your choices made it so that you already had.

Why did everything have to be so hard?

Notes: This was originally supposed to be the climax chapter, but it seems we're still climbing. Next chapter then! Look forward to it :)

Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared, @yellowwallflowers, @scarlettbitchx

(if you want to be added to the taglist, comment that on this post :))

[willows-escape]

Phantom HCs - Cherik with a Chubby!Reader

Pairing: 1990!Erik x GN!Reader

Warnings: fatphobia and nsfw content (has its own section)

Word Count: 2,370

Notes: This was a request that somebody sent me that I was really eager to write, as somebody who is plus sized/chubby myself. I might do it with the rest of the Phantoms I write for, but I don't know if that's something people would want to read?

Also, the series I spoke about in an earlier post - it’s still being worked on, but it shouldn’t hopefully be much longer. I’m looking to write around 11-ish parts, probably more, and I want to have three solid chapters written before I post the first one. Just so I can have the chapters to post while writing the next few. Having both female and male versions to write is also slowing it down, but I hope the wait will be worth it !

⟢ Erik does NOT care if you're chubby, skinny, average size or whatever. Your size isn't even a thing to him.

⟢ This Erik isn't as focused on stereotypical beauty as the others - he originally takes notice of Christine due to her voice, and the fact she looks like his mother is only an extra added bonus lol.

⟢ So I feel like your appearance is just not an important factor to him. It would be other things about you that would attract him first. Anyone could be stereotypically attractive, but not everyone could be you.

⟢ But don't be mistaken, he definitely thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world.

⟢ If you worked at the Opera Populaire, and he saw the way other workers teased you or gossiped behind your back, he'd be scratching his head in confusion.

⟢ He may be hopelessly infatuated, but he couldn't see anything about you that was laughable.

⟢ I'm not trying to imply this Phantom is ignorant or unaware of societal norms - unlike the others, he has a strong relationship with somebody who links him to the outside world. He hides due to his own flaws, after all.

⟢ He knows being slender and thin is the current ideal, but he also knows that ten years ago having a bigger body with soft curves was also largely desirable. So he didn't like to pay much attention to societies trends. They changed like the wind.

⟢ Which is why he'd sometimes forget that not everybody looked at you as if you were an angel that was sent from heaven to grace the earth.

⟢ If people's teasing and rude comments ever affected you so deeply that you brought it up to him, that would be the only time he ever acknowledged your body type. And his acknowledgement would only be vehement reassurance and exclamations of his affection towards you.

⟢ "But my cheeks are so fat, it makes my face look like a ball!"

⟢ "A very beautiful and loveable ball!"

⟢ He wasn't great at the whole reassurance thing.

⟢ After a while of courting you and as he began to realise how cruel some people could be to the most gorgeous person he knew - he began to feel a sense of solidarity with you.

⟢ He believed he was beyond hope and that he could never be accepted into the real world, and he wouldn't ever insult you by trying to say you were as repulsive as him. You were anything but that. Yet he felt as if you two were on some kind of wavelength.

⟢ You were both looked down upon for things as flimsy as physical appearances, and he felt a little closer to you due to that.

⟢ And he had a few existential crisis' where he laid awake at night thinking about how maybe society is the problem, not him, because how can they even ridicule you when you were perfection!

⟢ Then he'd take off his mask and look in the mirror and be like nope, he's definitely the problem.

⟢ Anyways. Less sadness and insecurity, and more fluff!

⟢ He loved how comfortable and soft you were. Erik had never held another person in his arms before you, never laid with his head on somebodies lap while they read him a book and mindlessly ran their fingers through his hair.

⟢ And he loved it.

⟢ His favourite time of day was when it came time to go to sleep, and he could lay with his head on your chest, arms wrapped around your waist and drift off into sweet sleep.

⟢ It took him a while to become so comfortable with this, though. It was weird enough that you two didn't have a chaperone during your meetings, never mind sharing affection. But if you asked him enough and tried to sneak in lingering touches and small caresses, he'd fold.

⟢ "Want to hold my hand yet?"

⟢ "Same answer as half hour ago, no."

⟢ "Am I truly so horrid that you do not wish to even hold my hand?"

⟢ "That is not what I said."

⟢ He didn't understand that couples followed these courtship rules in public, but were definitely smooching and snuggling in private. Even if you tried to explain that to him.

⟢ But eventually he caved.

⟢ He was touch starved beyond belief, so it didn't take him long to give in. Maybe a month or so. But it was also an awkward experience for him at first, so expect to give him a lot of guidance.

⟢ "This just doesn't feel right, why on earth would somebody lay like this when they are far more efficient and comfortable positions for somebody to lay?"

⟢ "That's because your arm's meant to be behind my neck, Erik, not over it."

⟢ "Ah. Yes, that feels better."

⟢ But once he got the hang of it, he was obsessed. Every part of you just fit so perfectly in his arms, you slotted together like puzzle pieces. It was glorious.

⟢ If you ever lived together, whether that be you go down below to stay with him or he manages to somehow bring himself to live with you amongst the real world (which would take many years and a ton of hard work), your evening conversations may look a bit like this:

⟢ "Excuse me, but when are you retiring to bed? Your scarf can wait until the morning." He was subtly glaring down at the knitting needles cradled in your hands as he spoke.

⟢ "Not long, just give me a few more minutes. I just want to complete this row of stitches."

⟢ "Alright, but when you come to bed, can you wear some of your summer nightwear?"

⟢ "But why? We're in the middle of winter, I'll freeze."

⟢ "I'll keep you warm." *leaves*

⟢ He definitely didn't just prefer the thinner fabric of your summer nightwear, which meant he could feel your body press against his and also allowed him to feel every curve of your figure with no barrier.

⟢ If you ever got married, expect him to just ask you to sleep naked. Not even for sexual reasons, he just loves the feeling of you.

⟢ You'd have a hard time refusing him in the colder months.

⟢ Also, imagine him singing you to sleep? His back resting against the headboard while you snuggled up against him, his hands delicately trailing over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their path as he sung to you.

⟢ That's an idea to elaborate on for another day.

⟢ Returning to the previous topic of his love of physical affection, kissing you would be magical.

⟢ And he'd be terrible at it.

⟢ The first time you kissed, you'd be the person to lean in first. And he'd look at you as if you'd grown two heads, but he wouldn't deny you. He'd go through many mood swings in the two seconds it took for your lips to touch.

⟢ "Erik," you'd eventually have to pull away, "Pucker your lips, and close your mouth a bit."

⟢ "My apologies."

⟢ That also has nothing to do with the head canon topic, I just wanted to include that.

⟢ Erik would love to draw you. Before he ever approached you, he'd spend his time making sketch after sketch of you, trying to immortalise every vision of you he had in his mind.

⟢ He'd get frustrated that he couldn't properly capture your true charm, but after a while of drawing for hours a day for a long period of time, he'd soon become an incredible artist. He wouldn't use this particular skill for much, unless you asked him to.

⟢ He also couldn't really draw anything that wasn't a person, considering his practice was very limited to one subject.

⟢ He'd have to send Gerard on trips to the store often to keep up with his new hobby.

⟢ "Erik, why do you suddenly need all this paper? The store clerk said he's had to order an earlier shipment of the stuff, because I'm buying up all his supply!"

⟢ "You wouldn't understand."

⟢ He'd also design and create the prettiest clothes for you, ones that would flaunt and uhm, extenuate, your best assets. So much material and thread would be stolen from the company in his pursuits.

⟢ He'd start doing this before you two even properly met, and when you began courting, you'd be taken aback by his display of clothing that he kept scattered around the catacombs.

⟢ Those dresses were probably not intended for him.

⟢ You'd grow especially suspicious when he began offering you these items of clothing, and how they all seemed to perfectly fit you like a glove.

⟢ "Erik, why are all these clothes my size? It's as if you took a measuring tape and made these clothes specifically to fit me."

⟢ "Just things the costume department had laying around."

⟢ "The costume department definitely does not keep clothing in my size."

⟢ "Well, they did when I got them."

⟢ Moving on lol

⟢ There are many reasons somebody may gain weight, but assuming you don't have a condition that causes it and simply appreciated food, Erik would be floored at all your weird and wonderful ways of preparing and eating your meals.

⟢ "What is in this bottle? It looks grainy, you aren't planning on putting this on your food, are you?"

⟢ "It's seasoning! Come on, try it! It makes the food taste a thousand times better!"

⟢ "Seasoning? Isn't that expensive?"

⟢ "Hey, you give me the money for the food, you don't tell me what category of food it needs to be spent on. I'm sure your salary is more than enough to cover the cost."

⟢ He'd grumble about how he was saving it for more important things, like wedding attire and a new instrument that he wanted to learn, but he wouldn't actually mind. His salary was definitely generous.

⟢ One time, he caught you sitting in the sun in the woods, and he was about to approach you when he saw the most baffling thing. You had a cloth splayed on the grass, covered in a weird brown substance that you were dipping strawberries in!

⟢ "What the hell is that?"

⟢ "Melted chocolate! *nom nom nom, gulp!* It's delicious with strawberries, would you like to try?"

⟢ "I'm quite alright, thanks."

⟢ Okay, your food choices were pretty normal, but for sheltered Erik who only ate things in their original state with no added flavour enhancers, he was shocked.

⟢ He might eventually expand his food palate, but it would take plenty of convincing on your behalf. He was perfectly happy with his unbuttered bread, thank you.

⟢ He was exceedingly stubborn.

⟢ But he's a fool for you, really <3

NSFW SECTION

⟢ You'd either have to be the most seductive person to walk the earth before Erik agrees to do anything sexual with you, or you'd have to be married.

⟢ Considering his intense attraction to you, it wouldn't be hard for him to consider you the first option.

⟢ For the purpose of this head canon, let's assume either one is true and he says yes.

⟢ The moment the first article of clothing comes off of you, he's starstruck. He can't believe he didn't say yes sooner.

⟢ He's torn between being regretful that he waited that long and feeling euphoric that he's really about to worship your body to his hearts content.

⟢ He's incredibly touchy feely. Consider every part of your body groped and kissed at least five times.

⟢ Favourite position is definitely you riding him. He'd have a few hang ups on it at first, as missionary back then was the only sex position that the church approved of, and he felt guilty about making you do so much work.

⟢ But he'd learnt his lesson about denying you by then.

⟢ You always had the greatest ideas, if those strawberries dipped in chocolate were anything to go by.

⟢ His eyes were greedy, watching the way you'd lower and lift yourself up and down his aching length. The way your skin stretched over your muscles as you chased your climax, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders hunched as you rested the palms of your hands on his chest.

⟢ He didn't know whether he wanted to keep his eyes locked onto you, or where your bodies were connected down below.

⟢ Just the thought made him so worked up and flustered he'd break a sweat.

⟢ His hands fit so perfectly in the dips of your waist, encouraging your movements as you rutted your hips against his. You looked like a painting, your plush thighs pressed tightly into his sides as you worked yourself into bliss.

⟢ He'd run his hands over every part of you, being extra cautious of being gentle. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

⟢ He definitely finished early the first like. 20 times you did that position. He felt terrible, but you considered it an amazing confidence boost. All apologies would die on his tongue the minute you'd lay down and ask him to finish the job by other means instead.

⟢ And speaking of thighs - his head being crushed by your thighs as he went down on you? God yes. He was used to the feeling of something constantly covering his face, and your legs were a welcome addition.

⟢ He's definitely messy and obviously inexperienced, so his rhythm would be uncomfortable and all over the place to begin with. But he'd figure out what drives you crazy in no time.

⟢ He's very, very eager to please. He'd worship every inch of you at every opportunity he could.

⟢ And have you seen this man's hands? Yum.

⟢ If you ever surprised him by wearing something skimpy or risqué? I hope you didn't have any plans for the next few hours. He's definitely taking his time with his gift.

THIS MAN UGH HE'S SO 😭💗

[southerngothicchic]

How Can I Refuse You

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

A, not so simple, request from the handsome, Sheriff's deputy forces you to confront your burgeoning feelings for him and what an actual relationship with him would entail

"Spend the night with me," Gator breathes, into your neck.

He presses several wet kisses along your skin, as he awaits your response. The feeling of his lips against any part of you is almost enough for you to immediately give in to whatever he wants. Though, in this moment, you hesitate.

"I can't, it's too risky..."

"It'll be fine," he instantly assures, raising his head. "Its late, and everyone will already be asleep. We'll just have to be real quiet though."

"That's all you're worried about?" You then ask, your eyes widening in disbelief.

"Pretty much, yeah," he confidently replies. "This isn't the first time I've snuck a girl into my room."

You decide not to question him further as you begin to pull away with a sigh. His hand is quick to cradle your jaw.

"I just really want to be with ya tonight, is that so bad?" He softly asks, while tilting your head up slightly, to have your eyes meet his.

Even the darkened cab of his truck can't hide the infatuation in his eyes.

"No, it's just-"

He stops you by pressing his thumb to your lips.

"From the way you were moanin' my name a few minutes ago, I would think you'd wanna be with me..."

"Its not that I don't want to be with you, it's just..." you pause, trying to think of a way around revealing the level of repulsion you feel at the thought of being in the same house as his father.

His smug expression fades as you search for the right words.

"Why don't we just go back to mine, like we usually do?" You counter, reaching up to touch his cheek.

"Because I wanna have you in my room tonight," he replies, pulling you closer. "In my bed, where I know you're really mine."

"You shouldn't be so paranoid," you say, dismissively. "I'm not seeing anyone else, Gator, you know that. I only want you."

"Then you should want to spend the night with me," he practically pouts.

It's exasperating how childish he can be sometimes, you think, as instead of rolling your eyes, you kiss his plush bottom lip.

"You're too cute for your own good," you breathe, into another kiss, before pulling away.

"Does that mean-?"

"Yes," you sigh. "You win, now let's go before I change my mind."

You find the stillness of the Tillman house unnerving as you quietly follow Gator through the kitchen. You never had the desire to set foot here, though you knew if you kept dating the Sheriff's son, you would have to cross its threshold eventually. Dread prickles at the back of your neck as you climb the stairs, making you cringe at the slightest creak beneath your feet.

Your frazzled nerves have you squeezing Gator's hand as he leads you towards his room. He smiles as he opens his bedroom door, still silently reveling in his victory.

You're surprised to see his room is illuminated by a soft, purple light. It casts shadows over the posters on his wall, leading you to think it hasn't changed much since he was in high school. Your thoughts are interrupted when he steps in front of you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you to him. A smile still plays on his lips as he gazes at you.

He takes a few steps back, guiding you further into the room. He then sits on his bed and pulls you onto his lap. Your knees settle into his comforter as you straddle him. His large hands frame your face as he takes a moment to admire you again. He notices your lingering uneasiness before leaning in to kiss you, softly. His tenderness catches you off guard, as you were anticipating the opposite.

"Does being here freak you out that much?" He quietly asks, with his nose pressing into your cheek.

You nod, slightly.

"Just focus on me, then, baby," he breathes before kissing you again. "I'll make ya feel so good, you'll never wanna leave."

You allow yourself to melt into his kiss despite how wrong it feels. Something inside of you urges you to leave, but you're anchored to the man below you. Your lips desperately meet his, over and over, seemingly never wanting to stop.

You quietly sigh his name when his attention switches to your neck. He grins against your skin, loving the way it falls from your lips. He greedily wants more as he presses wet kisses and little bites along your skin. He instantly gets what he wants when he sucks harshly right above your shoulder. Your fingers curl and claw at his shirt as you moan his name a little too loud.

"We gotta be quiet, remember?" He reminds, pressing his finger to your lips.

You nod, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and lust. You kiss the tip of his finger, before whispering an apology.

"Its okay, baby," he soothes, lowering his hand so he can kiss you again. "I know you can't help it... always whinin' and cryin' for me, and I haven't even fucked you yet."

You whimper into another kiss while your nails lightly scrape at the back of his neck.

"That's what you want, right?" He breathlessly adds, between kisses.

"Yes," you reply, nearly delirious with desire.

"Make me yours tonight."

That's all it takes before he's pulling your shirt off. The sensation of his rough hands gliding over your skin makes you shiver.

You're then laying completely bare beneath him as he kneels between your legs. The sight of him is like something out of a dream, or possibly a nightmare, you aren't sure which.

He runs his hands up and down your thighs, making sure your legs stay spread around him. Your eyes linger on how he's throbbing for you, knowing you're aching for him just as much. He places his left hand on your stomach, while his right reaches for your face. His long fingers brush your cheek before he rests his thumb against your lips. He applies only the slightest pressure and you open your mouth just enough so he can drag his thumb across your bottom lip.

"Fuck, look at ya..." he breathes, as his eyes travel your body before meeting yours. "Prettiest fuckin' thing I've ever seen."

You hum in approval, flicking your tongue over the pad of his thumb. He then inhales sharply, pushing it into your mouth. You happily wrap your lips around it and suck, while gazing at him sultrily.

He softly moans before pulling his thumb away, worrying he'd blow his load then and there if you kept on.

"You're too fuckin' good at that, shit..." he pants, while you smile up at him.

"You already know I can't help myself when it comes to you," you defend, as he strokes himself. He smears your saliva over his leaking tip, gasping as he pumps his hand a few times before lining up to ease himself inside you.

Your hands twist into his sheets as his hand covers your mouth. The other on your stomach drifts to your hip, as he pushes himself as deep as he can.

Once his hips meet yours, his gaze darkens as he asks, "Are you gonna be good?"

You nod, your eyes pleading for him to move. With a smirk, he slowly lowers his hand, but keeps a loose grip on your jaw as he begins thrusting his hips in languid strokes. You whine, turning your head to the side, trying to use his pillow to muffle any sounds that might escape.

"No, no, baby," he scolds, using his hold on your jaw to turn your face towards him. "I want ya to keep your eyes on me."

You whine again as you look up, into his eyes. He grins while gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. It's another surprising display of tenderness that he seems to reserve only for you. Your mouth falls open after whispering his name and he immediately places his thumb back, between your lips. You lazily lick against his skin with every thrust as you fight to keep your eyes open.

He curses under his breath, while his hand glides over your stomach, to your breast. He squeezes roughly at first before leaning over to place wet, soothing kisses across your chest. He notices the hickies he left are starting to fade and he's determined to leave new ones. He has to mark you as his, one way or another.

His hair, now a sweaty mess, falls around his face. It tickles your cheeks as he hovers over you. You reach up and brush it out of his eyes, not realizing until then how long it's gotten. He kisses you deeply, while the coarse hair on his chest brushes against you, making you writhe against him.

He breaks the kiss to catch his breath and gaze at you again. You wonder what's going through his head in these quiet moments, but you're too afraid to ask. Afraid that he'll confirm what you already know... that his interest in you goes beyond simple infatuation. You're not sure if you could handle his confession of love, now or at any point.

This wasn't meant to be anything more than a series of casual hookups, but his possessiveness soon changed that. He couldn't stand the thought of another man having you like this. Even the way his own father looked at you infuriated him. For once in his life, he was going to have something that was his and only his.

"Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?" You softly ask, surprising him and yourself.

He shakes his head. "Just you."

You smile before he kisses you again. He softly moans into your mouth when he feels your legs tightening around his waist. It's your silent way of urging him to keep going.

"Yeah?" He breathily asks. "Ya want more?"

Nodding, you whisper, "Please."

He grins before picking up his pace and roughly thrusting into you. It's all you can do not to scream as you quickly pull him into another kiss. It's sloppy, filled with little whimpers as he fucks you into his mattress.

"This better?" He teasingly asks, with his wet lips at your cheek.

"Y-Yes," you answer, almost too dazed to speak. "Just don't stop, please..."

You hate how whiny your voice sounds but you know it's such a turn on for him.

"I don't plan to. I'm gonna keep ya like this all night," he breathes, into a kiss.

You gasp his name against his plush lips, while your back arches from just how deep he's fucking into you. You're not sure if it's ever felt like this until tonight, so deep and raw.

He needs you to know you truly belong to him. It's something you've known for some time now, but didn't want to admit. It's the dull ache that lingers after he leaves. An ache that increases when you're alone, laying in bed or otherwise. You shouldn't want this, or him, but you're drawn to what's underneath his brash facade. There's a sweetness that's been dormant since childhood, a sweetness that he only feels comfortable revealing to you.

You feel privileged to be the person that gets to experience this side of him. It also frightens you because of how easily you could fall in love with him.

The feeling of his teeth biting into your shoulder jolts you back to reality as you softly cry his name.

"Sorry baby," he breathily apologizes, "ya just feel too good."

"Its okay, just don't bite so hard," you dreamily reply.

He kisses the top of your shoulder, soothing what's going to be one of many marks that litters your skin. Your vision is a purple tinted blur as you struggle to keep the gaze of the man above you.

"I know you're close, I can feel it..." he whispers, as the tip of his nose brushes yours.

Your nails dig into his biceps as he fucks you hard and fast. You're both desperate for release, mouths barely touching, only exchanging low moans and grunts.

You finally connect your lips when your body begins to tremble around him. It's so intense that you can hardly kiss him, as you really just need his lips to absorb all the tiny whines and whimpers of his name.

His bedframe begins to squeak as he thrusts even harder. Your nails claw at his shoulders, through his skin's almost too slippery for you to properly cling to.

"I'm the only one who fucks ya this good, right?" He asks, roughly holding your face.

"Yes, j-just you," you breathe, gasping for the air that's been punched from your lungs.

He flashes a grin before rewarding you with a messy kiss.

"You were made for me and only me," he continues, as he gazes into your watery eyes.

You whine his name one last time and his hips finally still. He presses his forehead to yours as he fills you with everything he has. He's so overwhelmed by the intensity of it, that he doesn't move until his body stops shaking. You're practically being crushed underneath him, but you still too dazed to care.

He's looking at you with renewed adoration, like you're his most cherished possession. Before tonight, this would've frightened you but now it evokes a different emotion. A warm realization settles within you as you think maybe hearing those three little words from him wouldn't be so terrible. For the first time in your life you seriously consider the thought of truly belonging to someone.

A smile spreads across your lips as your hand reaches to cradle his face.

"Will you spend the rest of the night with me?" He softly asks, leaning into your touch. "I don't want to let ya go."

You nod, before guiding his lips to yours.

"And I don't want to go," you whisper into a kiss.

You would worry about the world that lies beyond his bedroom door in the morning. As for the few remaining hours before sunrise, they belonged to you and the man you loved.

[folkookie97]

❝ blue valentine ❞ — JJK

— SUMMARY: ❝ No welcoming hugs or your voice humming one of his songs while you cooking one his favorite recipes. Jungkook noticed that you already knew about everything he did. ❞

— PAIRING: fiancé!Jungkook x female!reader

— TYPE: angst

— WORD COUNT: 883

— WARNINGS: Inspired by Babe (Taylor Swift), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Cheating, Infidelity, POV Second Person, Established Relationship/Engagement, Argument, Swearing

— NOTES: Sorry guys but today my mood is something like 'Look at this... they're holding hands. I want them dead'. But I hope you like it <3

— RELEASE DATE: February 14, 2024

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

"You already know, don't you?"

The words left Jungkook's lips before he could control them. As much as he wanted to sound kinda nonchalant, he felt a pain in the back of his neck starting to bother him beyond usual.

He noticed what was about to happen the moment he entered the living room, closing the door behind him and without any sign of your presence waiting for him to come home. No welcoming hugs or your voice humming one of his songs while you cooking one his favorite recipes.

Jungkook noticed that you already knew about everything he did. He could see it in the dark circles under your watery eyes that kept looking at the TV in the room, even without paying real attention to the movie.

You just nodded your head, feigning disinterest about your fiancé's question — even though he could notice how your hands tightened the blanket that protected yourself from the cold.

"Honey—" Jungkook started, feeling his voice tremble and the bitter taste of blood in his throat. How many hours had he been almost biting his own lips?

Probably since he got on the plane to go home.

To come back to you.

You didn't even move, you just switch the focus of your attention for a few seconds. At the same time your eyes met his, Jungkook's heart broke into thousands of little pieces. But the gaze didn't last long. “Don't do it. I don’t wanna talk about that now, Jungkook.”

Before he could get the chance to argue against it or beg you to listen his apologies, you glared at him one more time, sending tremors through each of his limbs. He could barely sustain an exchange of gazes with you.

His fiancée. The love of his life. The one he longed to care for and protect until the end of his life. The one he should never break the heart to.

"Today is Valentine's Day."

Damn, he had really screwed up.

Swallowing hard, he nodded his head. "I... I know."

Your mocking chuckle reminded him that you knew him better than anyone. "I often can recognize your shitty attempts to lie to me. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

Fuck. "My love—" He tried to get closer to you and your double bed's edge, but the simple stretching of your hand towards him stopped his body.

Where was your engagement ring?

Something in your mind clicked on. "STOP CALLING ME LIKE THAT! ARE YOU DEAF? Didn't you listen me telling you that I don't wanna talk about your fucking cheating right now?" Jungkook's heart skipped a beat at the acidity in your tone.

The scary and new doubt in his thoughts was breaking him more than ever. "Where's your ring?"

"Wow, I'm glad you care about our engagement. When I saw so many pictures of you and that hot girl kissing at an afterparty of one of your shows, I really thought you had forgotten about it for a few minutes."

Jungkook whimpered due to your sarcasm, ignoring the fire in your gaze as he sat down next to you, already letting a river of tears run down his flushed cheeks. "Please, honey... You know I love you. That... that was a terrible mistake."

"Oh, Kookie..." His nickname never felt so painful on your lips. "I think 'terrible' is a very simple word to express how humiliating this is for me."

You felt like throwing up when he whimpered again, the bright tears suddenly progressing into a loud, annoying cry. You never imagined you would be so repulsed by looking into his Bambi eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please, honey..." Jungkook sobbed, ignoring her grumbles and pulling her into a tight hug.

You tried to push him away, taking off the weight of his arms that held you, afraid that you might escape after a blink of an eye. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't do it. "JUNGKOOK! LET GO OF ME! STAY THE FUCK AWAY!"

The more you tried freeing yourself from his body, the more Jungkook cried like a little child. You hated seeing him cry, almost as much as you hated him in that moment. Almost as much as you hated the pain in your heart begging yourself to forgive him. Begging yourself to keep loving him. Begging youself to give in and ignore your own mind.

You barely realized you were also a blubbering mess until you found it difficult speaking without letting out little shaky cries. "I fucking hate you. I... I hate you so bad, Jungkook. I hate what you did to me. To us."

"Me too..." Jungkook's voice sounded more broken than before and mixed with loud crying as he lightly opened his arms, freeing you from his desperate hug. "I hate myself too..."

"You disgust me, you're so disgusting. How could you do this?" You sobbed again, using all your effort to look away. If you let yourself be carried away by those pretty eyes that begged for your forgiveness, that story would repeat itself one day. You couldn't handle the possibility of living that situation all over again. "Oh my God. You really blew this. I hate you. You don't... You don't deserve me."

"I know..."

He really knew.

[missmonsters2]

OBLIVION

[Pairing]: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

[Summary]: Everyone has vices, some more than others. Wednesday has quite a few: her morbid curiosity, her vindictive or cruel demeanor, and most recently—finding any reason to kiss you.

[Warnings]: Soft Angst. Friends with Benefits. Wednesday being bad at emotions™️. Mistletoe trope.

[Note]: Tis the season!

Library Blog || AO3

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Don't you want to follow your ludicrous traditions?"

You felt your heartbeat quicken in your chest. Only shallow breaths were made from your lungs as they passed through your parted lips. You wanted to screw your eyes shut, but you forced them to remain open.

If you closed them, Wednesday would only lurch forward like a starved animal. 

"Not with you," your jaw clenched, tension stiffening your body like you had gone through rigor mortis. 

Wednesday didn't seem to mind your biting words or tone as she leaned closer. You felt like a wounded fawn as you were trapped between the wall and Wednesday's body, and her arms trapped you on either side of you.

You could smell everything that was Wednesday Addams, an invasion you were helpless to resist. The scent of old books and rain hits you like a relapse that makes you want to crumble to your knees.

And Wednesday knows it. 

"Then you wouldn't have been so stupid to be caught under the mistletoe with me."

Wednesday's words are always vindictive, even if her tone is not. They ring in your ear because as desperate as you were to not understand her, you did. She's angry with you, but—she craves you.

But the thing about Wednesday Addams is that she's a stranger to all these feelings. She hates every part of feeling them, and she hates you for making her experience it. In her endeavor to not be like her mother, you're the pages she's torn out of her book. 

And you just can't be that—you can't. Not for Wednesday.

Not when—

"You're the one who said this was ill-advised," you reminded Wednesday. "When I asked you to go to the Yule Fest, you're the one who said no."

"Because I don't want to go to some repulsive, colorful festival," Wednesday raised her brow at you. 

"But you want to kiss me under the mistletoe?"

Wednesday's jaw clenched—the way it did whenever she was forced to acknowledge her feelings for you. God, you were annoying. 

"I'm done with the no-string-attached kisses," you shake your head at Wednesday. "Unless you're going to agree to go on a date with me, I'll refrain from participating in this tradition with you."

"It's bad luck to forgo tradition," Wednesday rebutted without missing a beat. 

You scoffed. "You always have an excuse, don't you?"

"It can't be helped that my synapses are superior."

"Wednesday—"

"Fine, I'll go to the nauseating Yule Fest with you."

Your mouth snapped shut, and you eyed Wednesday's impassive face with suspicion. 

"Really?"

"What? You think I'm a liar?"

You rolled your eyes. "I think you'll come up with any reason for us to kiss."

"I wouldn't have to if you would cease from coming up with any reason for us not to."

You then wondered why you liked Wednesday so much as you stared at her expressionless face. She was so—

You huffed and admitted, "I hate the way you pick and choose when you want me."

"I always want you."

And it was the first time Wednesday had ever admitted something within that realm of feelings.

"You think I'm always trying to come up with excuses to kiss you," Wednesday's jaw clenched, and you felt her fists next to your arms close into tight balls. "But because you're just as obstinate as me, I'm also trying to come up with reasons why you shouldn't stop kissing me."

Fuck, you cursed, swallowing the lump in your throat. Vices were a dangerous, dangerous thing, and this was going to be your worst relapse yet.

And just like that, you lifted your hands to pull Wednesday closer. One hand slid against her jaw before cupping the back of her neck while the other gripped her shirt desperately. 

The kiss was bruising—the kind Wednesday liked. 

Soft.

And warm.

You were always a little surprised, no matter how many times you kissed Wednesday, how soft and warm her lips were. 

The way Wednesday wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her, always made you feel like you were one step away from oblivion. 

That was probably her plan every time.

"Why are you like this?" You mumbled between kisses.

"Wednesday is full of woe," Wednesday muttered before she pressed her lips against you insistently. 

It was devastating how she constantly found herself reluctantly eating the words she told her mother the first day she arrived at Nevermore. 

"Don't I know it," you replied, and Wednesday pulled back for just a moment to see your face as you said it. The way your eyes glistened with mischief and your playful smirk had her consuming your lips again. 

Wednesday's not sure whose idea it was to kiss under poisonous berries, but it was quite romantic.

When the two of you decide you've made out under the mistletoe long enough (not because it was enough, but Wednesday was sure she heard a door opening upstairs), you grinned lightly at her.

"We should wear the matching snoods Enid made us at the Yule Fest."

"Don't push it."

[uconnposter01]

Me and you

Warnings: Cursing

3.k Words

Chapter 1

October 2021   3rd person pov

Aniyah Sanchez was uncomfortable, she has been at this house party for 2 hours and if one more frat boy tried to hit on her or try to touch her she was gonna scream, she was only here because her teammates  wanted to go out and since they haven't in over a year she was down to come but now Aniyah's over it. It's hot, she's tired, it's crowded, and her teammates were preoccupied with other people leaving Aniyah alone on a couch in the living room surrounded by loud drunk students.

"Damn girl you are bad as shit" a male voice says in her ear way too close for comfort. 

"6 feet” Aniyah says, finding herself starting to feel annoyed.

"My bad" the guy next to her said, backing up a little 

 Aniyah looked at the guy over seeing a light skinned  guy with short curly hair and green eyes. Both of his arms are covered in tattoos, his teeth a vibrant white.

She could tell by the smirk on his face he usually got whatever girl he wanted and the way he shamelessly checked out Aniyah made her skin crawl. 

"I'm gay boo so move along"Aniyah says looking at her nails dismissing the man.

 "Damn don't be like that girl, so I can't even get your name,I'm Ant” 'he says flashing his million dollar smile. 

Aniyah took a deep breath hoping telling Ant her name he would just leave her alone. 

 "Aniyah'' She replied, praying that the interaction would end.

 "See, that was so hard," Ant says, sitting down on the couch.

“Why are you sitting down?" Aniyah questions her eyebrows furrowing  in confusion.

You don't want no friends?" Ant questions smirking.

     He didn't believe the girl next to him could be gay she is way too beautiful. Ant figured if he smooth talked to her and got her to take her guard down he would be golden. 

"Nope" Aniyah says, putting emphasis on the letter p. 

“ What you drink, let me get you a drink from the kitchen,” Ant says, smirking. 

“Fuck no” Aniyah says rolling her eyes.

”Damn, you kinda mean," Ant said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Not sure what to say,he didn't want to give up on the beauty,he was sure she was the most attractive girl in the party right now. He couldn't help but to stare at her hazel almond shaped eyes, they hung low and Ant couldn't tell if it was from weed or was it natural.

"I'm not mean enough seeing that you are still here trying to talk to me" Aniyah responds back rolling her eyes once more. 

"Sheesh" Ant mumbles.

Aniyah's standoffish attitude wasn't gonna deter him though. Once again Ant begin’s to stare at Aniyah, this time noticing how full her lips are,and he couldn't help but think what they would feel like wrapped around his dick.

 "Nigga can you stop staring at me" Aniyah snaps glaring over at Ant

"What's with the attitude shawty?" Ant asks, eyebrows creased in confusion. 

"I'm gonna say this nicely. I'm a lesbian, I'm not interested at all, leave me alone before I get real mean "Aniyah stresses, about to go off on the man.

"How you even know you gay?" Ant asks, disregarding what Aniyah said trying to scoot closer to the brown skinned girl.

 "How do you even know you're straight?" Aniyah questions.

"I'm serious, I think you haven’t got the right dick yet" Ant says, his eyes trailing down the girl's  body hungrily. Aniyah looked at the guy sitting next to her with pure repulse, not too sure Ant took the girl's silence as a cue to move closer and touch Aniyah's thigh.

"Don't fucking touch me nigga, are you fucking dumb dickhead" Aniyah yells pushing Ant away from her. 

"Why are you acting like a bitch, I'm being nice to you and everything, you ain't that cute to have that much of a fucked up attitude" Ant complains, his eyebrows furrowed in anger.

"Because I'm gay, I'm a fucking lesbian,I don't know why your dumbass can't grasp that shit, my body language and my words are telling you that I don't want to be fucking bothered, stop trying to talk to me, I'm not interested in your dumbass take the fucking hint!" Aniyah yells even louder. 

Before Ant could reply to the girl yelling next to him, someone behind him spoke up. 

“Yo, I don't think she wants to be bothered, move along” A tall blond said behind Ant.

    Aniyah looks over at the girl instantly recognizing her as a player on UConn's women's basketball team, she couldn't lie the point guard looked good, way too good if you asked Aniyah. The blond had on an all black Nike tech suit with low top panda dunks on her feet, her straight hair pulled back in a low bun.

"This you?" Ant questions the girl towering over him.

 "Yup, that's all me” Paige says, licking her lips and  looking past Ant and at Aniyah.

“Nah you lying, she’s pretty as hell he can’t be gay” Ant replies in disbelief. 

“You sound ignorant as hell bro, get the fuck outta here, ain’t nothing over here for you” Paige says glaring at the guy. 

“Whatever, shawty wasn’t that cute anyway" Ant gumbles, stomping away, angry he couldn’t take  Aniyah home.

  “My bad ma,I didn't mean to come over like that, but I overheard you and I couldn't just stand there and listen to that shit happen” Paige says rubbing the back of her neck. 

”I appreciate it, I really do,” Aniyah says, biting her bottom lip. 

She likes hearing the point guard call her ma, and between the eye contact and the nickname it all made Aniyah feel somewhat special and giddy. but the giddy feeling disappeared once Aniyah remembered that Paige is a player and that she has probably said these same things to other girls. After hearing so many stories about Paige from her teammate Jazmine she's not sure if she really wants to deal with Paige on a serious level, but she didn't mind having fun.

“What's up ma, you good?” Paige asks,her face etched with concern noticing a slight change in Aniyah’s mood.

 Her face etched with concern noticing a slight change in Aniyah. Paige is so excited to finally talk to the girl, she's seen her everywhere and she couldn't get the girl out of her mind,no matter how hard Paige tried. The first time Paige saw Aniyah on campus was in the dining hall, the second time she saw her was at the library and the third time she saw her was at her game sitting in the crowd and Paige ended up scoring 31 points that night.

As bad as she wanted to go up to the girl each time, Paige decided not to,knowing she has a player reputation. A nasty rumor that started going around on campus during Paige’s freshman year and not being sure if the girl to her left was aware of the rumors about her she never had the confidence to go up to the girl.

Paige was excited, as soon as she saw the girl walk in with the rest of her friends Paige knew this was her chance to talk to her. She proceeded to watch the girl from afar the moment she got here two hours ago waiting for the opportunity to speak to her.

After gaining some liquid courage and overhearing what was happening with Ant, she knew she couldn't pass up the opportunity to help the girl out and talk to her. Paige has let the girl slip through her fingers on three separate occasions; she refused to let it happen again. 

“Yeah I'm good,” Aniyah says, flashing a closed mouth smile. 

“You sure?” Paige asks scooting a little closer. 

“I promise I'm sure” Aniyah responds softly  looking in Paige’s eyes.

The energy around the two girls felt thick as they continued to look at each other, their stares filled with lust and longing.

   “Is this okay?” Paige questions softly, putting her hand on Aniyah’s exposed thigh. 

“Yes” says just as soft her eyes never leaving the intense stare of Paige's blue eyes. 

“What's your name ma?”Paige asks softly in the girl’s ear. 

“Aniyah” She responds just as softly, glancing down at Paige's lips. 

“Paige,” the blond says, holding out her hand to the girl.

 Paige kissed Aniyah's hand and she immediately started to feel  flustered trying to hide her smile Aniyah faced the other direction.

“You are so beautiful please don't hide that pretty ass smile from me, I love it already” Paige says while gently turning Aniyah's face back to her.

Aniyah's smile and the blush on her face grew even wider. Paige smiled back enamored by the braces clad girl, she wanted to learn everything she could about Aniyah she has never been this attracted and infatuated with anyone before especially not this fast.

 ”Do you smoke”? Paige asks after a moment pulling out a baggie with 4 blunts in the process. 

“Of course,” Aniyah responds. 

“Come out back with me, It’s hot, loud and packed in here and I wanna get to know you better” Paige says standing up.

Aniyah stood up with her and they walked towards the back of the house. Paige led Aniyah through the party with her hand resting on the small of her back.

 Aniyah couldn’t lie she became enamored with Paige in the short amount of time of being in her presence just off of the energy alone, she wasn't stupid though.  Even  though Jazmine’s words about Paige kept playing over and over in her head, and right now Paige is saying all of the right things that's and doing all of the right stuff.

Even down to her confidence that bordered on cockiness that was emitting out of her, It all screamed player and it made her nervous, but Aniyah isn’t looking for anything too serious right now, she couldn’t even look for something serious if she even tried so this could be a good thing.

The pair walked towards the outdoor couch, the twosome both picking opposite sides of the wicker couch to sit. 

“Why you sitting so far, come mere” Paige mumbles, lighting the blunt.

 Aniyah inhaled trying to not let her attraction for the girl make her make a fool of herself. 

 “That’s it ma, I won't bite, I mean unless you want me too” Paige teases, her eyes are already starting to become hazy. Paige passes Aniyah the blunt and she watches the girl inhale and look up in the sky.

Maybe I do” Aniyah flirts looking over at Paige passing the girl back the blunt. 

The vibe between the two was thick with tension, both semi lost in their thoughts about each other and how to proceed in the conversation.

  “Tell me bout yourself” Paige says, glancing down at Aniyah’s lips.

 “What do you wanna know?” Aniyah questions.

 “Everything” Paige states, turning to face the girl.

“Well I’m 19,  Aquarius gang over here, a Freshman, I’m from PA, my major is Sports Management and my favorite color is green '' Aniyah says rattling off basic information about herself. 

“Where in PA, and you know i wanna know your birthday mama not ya sign, lemme me know when that is” Paige says rubbing her hands together. 

“February 13th” Aniyah says, finishing up the blunt and pulling out another one.                                           "Damn, Ma you a stoner for real huh” Paige teases.

“Yeah” Aniyah says laughing and lighting the blunt, her eyes  glossy and red. 

“Back to birthday’s tho, it’s lowkey crazy that ya birthday is right before Valentine’s Day''Paige says laughing.

 “I know right, It’s pretty chill I guess,'' Aniyah says, feeling like she’s talking about herself a little too much. 

“You didn’t answer my other question though” Paige says, blowing out smoke, looking over at Aniyah intensely. 

 “ What question?” Aniyah questions her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

  ``Where in PA you from, I meant it when I said, I wanna know everything bout you” Paige says softly while staring at the girl.  

  “I’m from Upper Darby, it’s the Philly suburbs,” Aniyah explains. 

“Cool, cool Imma have to come see the vibe down there” Paige said smiling.                   

  " Okay I'll take you one day, I wanna know about you know, tell me about you though” Aniyah replies softly.                                                                                        “Well I’m from Minnesota, I'm 20, I play ball,  my birthday is October 20th and my favorite color is purple,” Paige responds.

  “Oh shit happy belated birthday, I'm sorry I didn't realize your birthday was a couple of days ago,” Aniyah says, playing with her fingers.                                                                                     

It’s aight ma, how was you supposed to know we just met like 30 mins ago ''Paige jokes.       

    “I know, but still” Aniyah says, pouting

“Do you like basketball?” Paige questions after another moment of silence.

   “Yeah, not as much as my sister though, I've even been to a couple of Uconn games” Aniyah says.

  “ How often do you usually go to the games?” Paige questions, licking her lips. 

  “Whenever I can really” Aniyah answers looking over at Paige, glancing at her lips in the process. 

“You be busy?” Paige asks quietly while focusing intently on Aniyah.

   “A lot of times yeah, I do gymnastics and sometimes I genuinely just don't feel like leaving my dorm, my sister goes to all of the games though,she said she's gonna get y'all to come to my meets” Aniyah rambles.

Paige’s heart drops a little hearing that Aniyah is a gymnast,  the chances of her knowing about those rumors have increased tenfold.

     “Who ya sister?” Paige questions her eyes glancing down at Aniyah’s lips.

    “Nuveah Sanchez” Aniyah answers.

    Paige’s face lit up upon hearing the Soccer players name, Nuveah and Paige had gotten pretty close during the 2020 school year, they really couldn't hang out or interact too much,however they would play Fortnite and text all of the time.

  “Nu-Nu is my dawg, she talks about you all of the time, she never said your name though or showed you to us, I would've remembered” Paige says once again glancing down at Aniyah’s lips.

  No matter how hard Paige tried not to look at Aniyah’s lips she couldn't help but to, they look so soft and smooth and she desperately wants to feel them on hers. Aniyah quickly caught on to Paige staring at her lips; Paige wasn't even being sneaky anymore she was blatantly staring at her lips. Aniyah didn't mind though, in fact it made Aniyah feel prideful and bold. Licking her lips Aniyah glances over at Paige to see her reaction. Paige bites her lip and clears her throat moving closer to Aniyah so there's no room in between them. Grabbing the blunt gently from Paige’s hand Aniyah lights it puffs and exhales.

“Can I try something?” Aniyah questions softly, grabbing Paige’s chin

   “Yeah of course ma” Paige says just as softly, her eyes low and her voice husky.

Aniyah takes a hit from the blunt and lightly puts her lips on Paige’s blowing smoke into her mouth in the process. Paige opens her mouth accepting the smoke.

   “Damn” Paige says, exhaling the smoke, her eyes dilated and low.

 Aniyah touched her lips still feeling Paige’s lips on hers. Paige wants to kiss Aniyah, the spark she felt when she had her lips lightly touched her lips still lingered. 

Your lips are so soft" Paige says softly while gently tracing Aniyah’s lips with her thumb.

"Thank you" Aniyah says, staring in Paige’s eyes.

"Can I feel them again ma?" Paige asks, her voice low, dripping with desire.

    Aniyah leans in, her lips softly gently meets Paige’s lips in a kiss that is firm and soft. Paige sighs into the kiss, her hands slowly sliding down to Aniyah’s waist. Breaking the kiss Aniyah rests her forehead against Paige’s relishing the kiss the pair just had. Paige wants to kiss Aniyah again, the kiss was everything that Paige thought it would be plus more. She wants to kiss Aniyah over and  over again. Before Paige could lean in and kiss Aniyah once again a voice interrupts her.

     “There you are, I was looking for you, i’m ready to go” Jazmine whines coming outside.

Paige separates from Aniyah after hearing Jazmine's voice not wanting the girl to catch them she didn’t have it in her to deal with a Jazmine  tantrum. 

  “Hey girl” Aniyah says awkwardly slowly scooting away from Paige. 

Jazmine felt anger bubbling up inside when she saw Paige with Aniyah, she had so many questions, why were they out here alone, and why did they look so awkward and guilty. 

“What’s going on with ya’ll?” Jazmine questions annoyance covering her features.

“Nothing, we just chilling,” Paige mumbles, looking down.

 Agitation and sadness spread throughout Paige once she saw Jazmine, Aniyah knowing Jazmine made Paige realize that she 100% knows about the rumors or that they sleep together which made Paige a little worried, she wants to try to pursue something with the girl, and those two big factors make things a little more complicated for Paige.

“You ready to go?” Jazmine asks sharply to Aniyah while glaring over at Paige.

“Yeah, just gimme a minute, I'll  meet you out front” Aniyah says dismissing Jazmine.

“I can wait for you here” Jazmine says sitting in between Paige and Aniyah.

“ Chill, we just talking,” Paige grunts, feeling annoyed. 

“You can’t talk in front of me?” Jazmine questions angrily at the blond.

“Why you acting like this”? Paige asks, looking over at Jazmine, her nostrils flaring in the process.

“Like what, I’m just waiting for my friend” Jazmine challenges.

“Whatever bro” Paige mutters her voice low and tense.

Aniyah sat clueless at the end of the wicker couch confused on the nature of the relationship between the two girls, Jazmine always says that Paige did her friend dirty, but this is a little too intense. Jazmine seems way too jealous right now for her and Paige to not be way more familiar than her just being a friend of someone that Paige fucked in the past. 

“Get my number from Nu-Nu, imma go head and leave, I’ll talk to you later okay” Aniyah says standing up.

“Aight ma” Paige mumbles standing up and pulling Aniyah into a hug.

Jazmine stares angrily at Paige during the hug with Aniyah biting her tongue not wanting to expose the nature of her relationship with Paige, she will be addressing Paige about this later.

“Let’s go” Jazmine huffs getting up.

“Jazzy slow down, why are you so mad?” Aniyah says as she struggles to keep up with Jazmine.

“We’ll talk when we get to our dorm” Jazmine grumbles.

“Girl what, I wanna talk right now” Aniyah says not appreciating how Jazmine is treating her like a child.

“Why did you do the opposite of what I said with Paige” Jazmine questions her voice tense with anger. 

Aniyah blinks, not wanting to go off on Jazmine, taking a deep breath Aniyah pauses before continuing. 

“Because I wanted to, why are you so mad about this?” Aniyah questions her eyebrow raised slightly.

“I told you all the shit did to my friend, and you ignore that and still go fuck with her”Jazmine says her tone confused.

“I don’t want nor can I do a relationship, so I’m cool with just fucking around” Aniyah says nonchalantly shrugging. 

Jazmine rolls her eyes and says nothing to Aniyah, knowing that she would say some smart shit to her, and she damn sure didn’t want to have any issues with Aniyah. Both girls get inside the uber the energy between them is icy and tense. After getting to her dorm Aniyah wordlessly goes inside her room. She truly didn’t understand why Jazmine is being so weird about Paige, she appreciates the girl for trying to look out for her but she’s good. She’ll just check in with the girl and make sure they are still good when the sun comes out. 

  After completing her nightly routine Aniyah laid in bed scrolling through Tik Tok, when she got a message that made her smile grow immensely.

          203-436-2177: Hey ma its Paige

                   Read: 1:20 AM

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Criticism more than welcomed

I hope y'all have a good day 💜

[cyberrose2001]

Kinktober: Day 9

Prompt: Spanking

TFA Sentinel x afab gn human!reader

Warnings: Spanking, degradation, fingering, size difference, roleplaying.

Word Count: 1,542

Got a little carried away with this... just a little... i hope y'all enjoy

@sentinelprimeswife because she requested the character and wanted to be tagged :)

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the fleshy that's been snooping around on my ship," Sentinel slams the airlock shut, turning towards you with an authoritative posture, "You didn't think we'd have surveillance cameras, did you?"

You jump at the boom of the airlock, whipping your head around to face Sentinel like a deer in headlights. All you wanted to do was check out the weird spaceship in the dead centre of the city, but naturally, you got curious and slipped past the invisible shield through a hidden opening.

Well, that's what you would say if all this wasn't roleplay.

Everyone thinks that Sentinel is organic-repulsed, that he finds humans so disgusting and pathetic. But it's all a cover-up. His attraction to humans feels shameful and is considered an abomination, in his words. So he plays pretend so as to not make the other bots suspicious. But occasionally, there's an opportunity to play for real, with a little human Jazz made friends with.

It's cute really, how much it turns Sentinel on, to wield his power over you, a tiny human that has no business gettin' flirty with alien robots.

You feign fear, not expecting him to find you so soon. Though that's a bit stupid of you to think when your hiding place was Sentinel's private office. But it wasn't entirely an accident.

"I'm sorry sir," You back yourself up against the large desk, much too large for you, "I-I was just curious-"

"Oh you were curious, were you?" Sentinel scoffs, striding over to you, "You humans have a saying, now what was it- ah yes, curiosity killed the tiger."

"Cat."

"Whatever," Sentinel rolls his optics, "My point is, you've got some nerve sneaking around on my ship, squishy. And that's enough to warrant punishment for a Cybertronian, let alone a human."

You bite your lip, "What kind of punishment are we talking about, sir?"

Sentinel looks down at you, getting an absolute kick out of the difference in size. His derma tugs at the corner, "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

You watch with ardour as he walks around to his chair behind the desk and sits down, though his posture seems more relaxed. He clears his vocalizer, a garbled static with a hidden excitement, "Well? Are ya gonna come out from the front of my desk or what?"

Taking a small gulp, you briskly walk behind his desk where he sits, standing next to his pedes. You don't dare look up at him, half out of embarrassment for what's to come and half from the sheer nausea-inducing height difference from this angle.

"Now, instead of just standing there, why don't you come closer?" Sentinel scowls, returning to his assertive personality after faltering for a moment. He leans down with an outstretched servo, and before you can even blink, he literally scoops you up to his eyeline. God if you weren't having head spins before, you sure are now.

"Hey don't do that I'll-"

"Don't even say it, you freak me out enough." Sentinel lies through his dentae, but he pulls a one-eighty real quick when he flips you on your stomach with a finger, "Arch your back struts, that's an order."

Ohhh. You know exactly where this is going now. He wants to spank you into obedience. You weren't going to lie, Sentinel is definitely the type of mech to have this kind of kink. Though a bit tamer than you were expecting, the thought of getting spanked by Sentinel sends a shiver of arousal to your core.

So you obey, arching your back for him. He, surprisingly, helps you out by bending his middle digit so you can drape your upper body over it. He's got a full view, tight jeans showing off all your humanly curves.

Sentinel's breath hitches, he can't help but bask in the warmth of your soft, pliable body. How you just melt into his servo and bend so fluidly. But he's getting distracted. He'll let himself lose control later, for now, he'll try to maintain at least some of his dignity.

"Look at you, taking orders like a good organic," Sentinel taunts, using his other servo to trace down your back, "I half expected you to put up a fight; a bit disappointing actually."

You don't have the nerve to say anything, afraid that you'll say something you'll regret. Because it's only a matter of seconds before Sentinel notices the small wet patch seeping through your jeans.

"Not talking?" Sentinel teases again, trailing a digit to your ass, "I guess I'll just have to make you scream."

Sentinel wiggles his digit behind the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down to your knees. If he didn't notice how wet you were before, he most certainly does now. He groans at the sight of the foreign sticky fluid soaking through your underwear, his spike involuntarily pulses behind his panel. Oh, what he would give to bend you over his desk right now. But you're far too small for his length.

"If my knowledge of humans is correct, I would say that you like this." Sentinel runs his fingertip across your ass, "How pathetic."

Before you could open your mouth to actually give him a comeback, he strikes the fat of your ass with a flick of his digit. A simple move on his part, but it was enough force to send you forward and make you cry out.

"There's your first one," Sentinel soothes the area, rubbing the reddened area gently, "Let's see how much more you can take, trespasser."

He does it again with just as much force but on your other ass cheek, watching how the soft flesh jiggles. Though he's 'punishing' you, he watches your every move and listens out for your safe word, making sure he's not pushing you to your limit.

A gush of arousal seeps between your legs at the third slap, back arching outwards like a cat with each one in a kneejerk reaction. Tears start to prick at your eyes at the sting, but you don't bother wiping them away. You know Sentinel likes to see the reactions he gets out of you.

Nearly half an hour passes, and your ass is red-raw, jeans ripped off long ago, crumpled on the desk. You're like a trembling leaf in his servo, which now collects a small pool of your fluids in his palm. You never once complained or back-chatted, taking your punishment like a good little organic. Sentinel's spike slipped past his array a while ago, and now resorts to grinding against the desk in replacement for his hands being full.

"One more," Sentinel pants, hips softly grinding against the desk, "Be a good little human and take one more for me..."

"Sentinel, please..." You whimper out, prepping yourself for the next sting. It comes swiftly, causing a shaky cry from you. But you take it, letting the tears run down your face and onto the digit you rest heavily on.

"Good... very good," Sentinel groans, rewarding you with a few pats on your back, "You took that a lot better than expected, I suppose you deserve a little repayment."

You half expected him to slap you again, but he doesn't. Instead, he moves your underwear to the side and rubs the tip of his digit against your soaking slit. The relief of finally getting some stimulation to your numbed nervous system causes a rush of exhilaration, and you can't help but grind against his digit.

"Please... I've been good," You shiver as you feel him press past your folds, "I promise I won't snoop around on your ship again I swear- nghffh!"

"I've heard enough of your yapping," Sentinel pushes his digit the rest of the way inside you, growling at how hot and tight you feel, "All I wanna hear from you now is those little whimpers, you understand?"

"Mhm," You moan as he thrusts and curls inside you, wet squishy sounds accompanying your whimpers, "Yes, sir."

"Good little organic..." Sentinel pants, resuming his grinding against the desk, focusing on how your tight cunt eagerly swallows him up, "Primus, I bet you'd look so tiny on my spike, wouldn't you?"

"Yes sir," You're so fucking desperate to cum at this point, you start bouncing your ass on his finger, imagining it's his thick spike stretching and filling you out, "Fuck... nffnn-"

"Bet you'd be so warm too," He groans, close to finishing on his own, "Frag it-"

Sentinel cries out as he shoots thick ropes of transfuid across his desk, spike throbbing with yearning. Though trembling through his overload, his relentless thrusts of his digit buried inside you only hasten.

And before long, he's watching you cum hard around his finger, impaling yourself as much as you can on him. You cry, scream and jerk as you work yourself through it. Fluid drips from between your shaking thighs, running down your legs as you collapse on his hand.

Sentinel half-laughs half sighs in exhaustion, slipping his finger out and flopping back onto his chair. He lifts you back to his level, petting your limp form with a shaky servo, "Guess you're good for somethin' after all, human."

[theredharpy]

Beer & Smoke:

What would happen if some stranger tried to Touch Y/N Infront of Ghost.

• Fluff • Protective Ghost • Jealousy • Swearing • No mention of Readers gender •

A carry on from:

It was cold, dark, the only light source came from a half flickering street light on the road, Y/N needed a moment from the drunken stupor of the bar, the orchestra of loud voices, drinks and music where only slightly muffled by the door.

They inhaled the cold night air a few times, their body started to feel the buzz of the two strong beers they'd had ontop of Soap ordering shots of whiskey for the group.

It had only been a week past since Y/N had admitted to Ghost that they cared about him and the same could be said about how the lieutenant felt about them, during that time they'd been alot closer to one another on mission outings, Ghost couldn't take his eyes off them, from travelling back and forth from places to making sure he always had a watchful eye on them when they where infiltrating a building with possible hostiles inside.

Ghost was still wearing his mask, the only thing he'd changed was the rest of his outfit, his signature black jacket, black pants and his boots, the locals of the pub had gotten accustomed to how he dressed, nobody dare say anything directly to him, they thought better than to make a smart remark towards him, except from one guy who L.T hadn't seen before.

Whilst Y/N was wearing an outfit that Ghost couldn't take his eyes off, how it perfectly hung to their figure, the way their hair was styled, Y/N always captivated him even though he was too stubborn to admit that.

Since the moment Ghost, Y/N, Soap and Gaz walked into the bar Ghost spotted him straight away, something felt off, the way he gave him a repulsed look to how the strangers eyes followed Y/N, visually undressing them as they approached the bar to order the first round of drinks, Ghost had purposely leaned against the bar next to Y/N, brushing his arm up against theirs, he continued to watch the stranger.

They're mine.

Don't fuck with me, mate.

Mine.

But the guy didn't seem to take the hint, having the balls to almost smirk at L.T's actions as he continued to look between his drink on the bar and back towards Y/N, a devilish glint in his eyes.

Being arrogant enough to think it was a wise idea to order Y/N a free drink and asking the bar tender to let them know who it was from, Y/N was polite enough to shoot the stranger a nod and a smile of gratitude.

But it only added to the lieutenants agitation with the stranger.

"Prick." He muttered to himself quietly enough under the mask that nobody heard it except from Soap who cocked him a confused brow in return.

"ah I wouldn't worry 'bout him L.T." He chimed in.

-

The sound of the door opening caught Y/N's attention, turning their head towards the entrance a smile crept across their lips at the person who appeared.

"You alright?"

Ghost asked calmly, pulling his usual pack of Cigarettes out from his jacket pocket.

"Just needed some quiet, it was getting rather.." Y/N paused for a moment trying to think of the right words.

"Bit bloody much." Ghost finished their sentence, passing them a cigarette.

Y/N smiled, taking the cigarette out of his hand and nodding in response. "I didn't realise it was going to be that busy, or maybe I'm just not used to people anymore." They joked.

Ghost shifted his weight, placing himself infront of Y/N, shielding them from the cold air that was beginning to turn into frost, lighting his Cigarette before passing Y/N the lighter.

"you and me both." He muttered, watching as Y/N attempted to light their cigarette but failing multiple times.

"Y/N--"

He spoke watching as Y/N's face twisted into an annoyed frown, rolling his mask up towards his nose.

"Y/N bloody hell-- Come here."

Ghost grabbed their hands with his own, cupping his hand gently ontop of theirs, watching as Y/N's captivating eyes trace his face in surprise of his actions, his features settling the moment their eyes met as he looked back down at his hands, his gloved hand gently rubbed against Y/N's softly.

"you need to light it like this look."

He used moved one of his hands to grab the lighter pulling Y/N's hands closer to his face, shielding the cigarette from the crisp wind, he pulled the lighter between their hands and lightning the Cigarette.

"that's better."

Y/N could feel their cheeks begin to feel hot from Ghost standing so close to them, his warm gloved hands cupping their own, their eyes began to get lost in the sea of hazel that was looking back at them, noticing L.T's heavy breaths as he took the cigarette out and passed it over to them.

"you know for next time."

The words he spoke mignt as well have been white noise, it was only them two, nobody else except the darkness and the frost, he was towering over them, only a breath away.

"Y/N can I--" His voice was a low sweet tone.

Until.

They both quickly pulled back as a loud slam of the pub door snatched them quickly out of the moment, the lieutenant pulling down his mask once more.

"Ay pal." It was the stranger from earlier stumbling over himself over towards Ghost and Y/N, clearly he'd had one beer too many at this point.

"what do you want." Ghost turned to confront the stranger, his mannerisms changed in an instant.

"Spare us a Cig would ya? I haven't got one." He stood only a few steps away from the pair, looking between both Ghost and Y/N.

Ghost let out a low scoff but wanted the guy gone as quickly as possible without causing a scene, especially knowing Y/N had eyes on him, his priority was them.

Passing the guy one of his cigarette's he turned to face Y/N but was taken by complete surprise when the man had the audacity to push himself between the two, his arm finding its way onto Y/N's back.

"Soo are you guys like a thing eh." He chuckled deeply as he patted his hand on Y/N's back forcing his body weight onto them, almost throwing Y/N completely off balance as they froze up in utter surprise at his ballsy display.

"I think you better get off them." Ghost looked towards Y/N, searching their face for a sign to intervene.

"ooh calm down like- was only playing." He nudged Y/N with his arm jokingly, turning to say something into their ear, his beer coated lips only centimetres away from their skin. "You're far too pretty for that fella anyways, you could come home with me though and I'll show you what a good time is." His causing Y/N to pull away violently.

"what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Y/N couldn't help but react brushing their hand over their cheek multiple times, giving the stranger a look of fury.

Ghost couldn't help but grab a hold of the man, using his weight to push the man away from Y/N and using his own body as a human shield.

"I said fuckin' get off em' did you not hear me the first time."

Ghost spat venom, his grip on the man's shirt was so tight he caused it to rip in multiple places.

"you fucken touch them again mate, I'll break your fucken legs."

His mind was becoming flooded with viscous, jealous words, L.T was trying his best to keep the ravenous beast he kept locked inside him from appearing.

Mine.

Y/N is mine.

How dare you touch them.

How dare you breathe on them.

Ghost let go of his grip, using the palm of his hand to continue to push the man away, taking slow long strides towards him, using his height to tower over him.

"Piss off." Each syllable in his accent was clear and precise, "I don't like repeating myself."

The stranger slurred drunken words towards Ghost as he locked eyes with Y/N for a merely a second before taking the hint and making a smart decision to scurry off back inside the pub for his own protection.

There was a moment of silence, Ghost turned to look over his shoulder towards Y/N.

"I'm okay don't worry." Y/N groaned at what had just occured, slowly approaching the lieutenant.

"thanks for all of that by the way." They said softly, looking up towards him, watching his eyes dart between the country road leading back towards the base and the entrance of the pub.

"I told you didn't I.." Ghost looked down towards Y/N, "I don't want to ever see you get hurt." He couldn't stop himself from brushing his hand against their own.

"Ghost--" Y/N couldn't help but smirk at his words finding his protective side amusing and noticing the little ways Ghost was unknowingly showing his true feelings towards them. "Let's just have a nice walk back to the base eh L.T." They gestured, nudging his muscular arm with their shoulder playfully.

"Smart choice." He agreed.

/ TO BE CONTINUED

NEXT PART IS GONNA INCLUDE

🔥SPICE🔥 /

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 9

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You’re not sure what to do with yourself. You find the room with the silk tie on the handle and enter. You look around. Nothing special. A bed, a closet, a metal vanity with a round mirror, and a fluffy white rug. It’s all so minimalistically extra.

You put down your purse and keys and pace around aimlessly. You're really doing this. You're giving in. Or giving up. Whatever you want to call it.

You're tired of fighting. For years you did everything for Johnny, hoping something would be right. You only realise that now. You would tell yourself it's because you love him and you're just taking care of him, but really you were desperate for his approval.

Maybe it's just easier to be like Lloyd. To be unsentimental and crass. To not care about others or what they think. To just say what you want plainly and take it.

You're not that kind of person. You know that. And just because he's singled you out, it doesn't make this or you special. It's as basic as he says it is. Fuck, high five, move along.

You sit at the vanity and pull out an empty drawer. Restless, you check out the next one. There's nothing there. The place is as vacant as your life suddenly is.

You shut the last drawer and glance at your reflection. You look as tired as you feel. The swollenness is still there in your cheek and the skin still tender with bruises.

You peek behind your mirror image at the bed. You yawn as you stand up and cross to the mattress, spreading your arms wide as you fall onto it face first. You close your eyes, head heavy with fatigue but nerves too addled to sleep.

You let the last few days wash over you. Johnny's anger, the fear and humiliation, capped by Lloyd's salacious and repulsive offer. It's surreal and soul crushing.

You lose track of time, hovering between awake and sleeping. Each time you feel you might doze, your body gives a start, unable to relax in this strange place.

A sudden stinging slap reverberates across your ass and you roll over with a yipe. You push yourself up as you face Lloyd's smirking mustache. You sputter in shock as he winks at you.

"Hey, sweet cheeks, waiting on me?" He purrs.

"Jeez, what–"

"Don't look ready to me," he shakes his head, gripping one hip, "did you even see the gift basket I made up for you? I put time and effort into that. And I'm… me."

"Uh, well, uh, yeah," you say, shimmying to the edge.

"And what about the surprise in the bathroom? How about you go wash the motel off you and I'll get the place ready."

"Ready?"

"You know," he pokes the tip of his tongue out, "you like candles? Afraid I'm all out of rose petals."

"Uh, oh," you sniff, "I thought, maybe, I could settle in first–"

"Look pretty settled to me," he shrugs, "but if you're tired, you can just roll back over and I'll start from the rear–"

"Oh god."

"Come on. I'm trying. I brought some stuff," he points behind him and you see a tote beside the door frame, a floral bag you rarely got to use.

Fabric peeks out past the top and the top of your bedside lamp, the one with the scalloped shade. You don't really know why he took that. As much as he gives you the ick, you can't really say he's a total asshole.

"I also grabbed this," he turns and goes to the bag, pulling out the very bix that started all the chaos. He comes back to you and tosses it on the bed so the lid pops off. The pearl bustier peeks out beneath the tissue paper. "And it's not my size, so…"

He stares at you as you try to avoid his eyes. You reach to slide the box closer and exhale softly. May as well pull off the bandaid. If he's anything like Johnny, it won't take that much.

🍑

A long soak should be the only thing you could want. The prospect of after keeps you fron enjoy the water. The tension nestles deep and refuses to leave.

You wash, the bottle of untouched champagne on the counter. Another unwanted surprise. You're in no rush yet moving fast.

You recline and try to forget the circumstance. Try to be somewhere else, if only for a moment. You shudder out your anxiety and sit up to pull the plug.

You stand and dry off. Your stomach churns and your skin crawls. You fix your hair and go through your usual routine. Then you stop to examine the pearled strands that drape across the boning of the bustier.

It's awkward. You're not sure at first how to get into it. Then the panties. A thong of sheer fabric that seems to shimmer. Then the stockings, and garters. A bit much just for… that.

Your reflection moves in the mirror but you won't look at yourself. You near the door and try to hear through it. Is he even out there?

You twist the handle slowly and emerge into the dimmed room. The curtains are drawn and the lights are set low. There are candles lit, on the night stand and the white shelves built into the wall. The scent of vanilla mingles with something woodsy.

You don't see him but before you can turn, you feel him. He holds himself flush to your back. You out your hands on his forearms as he embraces you from behind. Be nuzzles the back of your head and takes a deep whiff. He hums as she wiggles his pelvis and urges you forward.

"You smell delicious," Lloyd growls as he walks you to the bed, "bet you taste even better."

[max-the-many]

'body a day #2' day 8: weapons

When I saw them standing infront of me a shiver ran down my spine. I really could do anything with them.

Dunno what hit me, taking those four in. And with that I'm not talking about those military hunks.

It was on a rainy night several weeks ago, when I stood on my back porch, looking out to the night sky when I sensed some motion. I stepped out, barefoot through mudd and weed until I found the source of it, a big black slug that I quickly found 3 more of. At first I was rather repulsed, but as I watched them moving it almost looked like they tried to look at me, lift their front, although I couldn't make out eyes.

I got more and more curious up to the point where I lifted the first one up which easily covered my whole palm. Again, it was calm, 'looking' up to me.

Eventually I took them all in, watched them all night until I dosed away. I was fascinated! And as I woke up, having them snufgle by my side, I almost felt like some kind of attachment.

So the days went bye, they stayed at my place, keeping me company while I never saw them eating.

At some point I had to leave as my job was due, traveling to advertise for a tech-company and as thosw creatures seemed so familiar at that point I decided to take them with me.

Calm as ever on the trip I noticed some change as we arrived at a motel. I didn't know, what it was, but they seemed to get restless, moving around the room, lifting their front part as if they were sniffing. I figured, they were exploring the new surrounding, but somehow I got the feeling that it was more than that.

Eventually I felt bad for shutting them in as they constantly circled back and forth at the door. With a slight fear of them leaving for good I opened the door and just like that they went out.

"Take care" I said quietly as I shut the door, hoping for them to come back. I really don't know what it was as we didn't interact very much. But their company was so calming, their gentle presence, the fact, that they wanted to stay with me in a weired way.

But everythings gotta end, I thought, as I prepared to go to bed.

I couldn't really sleep ä, though, thinking of the time past, the encounter, those strange creatures only remotely resembling slugs, beeing a multiple of those I knew in size on top of that.

And as my thoughts went on I noticed a shadow at the window. A silhuette standing there pretty much motionless. I stood up, getting closer, getting worried as it turned out to be a guy, looking between the curtains without any movement, standing there topless looking pretty well built.

I got nervous as the motel was rather secluded. What did he want! And on top of that, there seemed to be more besides him. Did they want to harm me? Break into my room even? But then, why was he shirtless? He even was glistening from the slight rain he probably walked through.

Nothing happened for long minutes making me more and more nervous.

"What do you want?" I eventually said through the closed door. But nothing. Just some very slight brushing sounds against the door, which I wasn't sure if I really heared them at all.

After more minutes a second guy appeared at the window, looking in, beeing topless and muscular aswell.

I repeated my question, but still nothing happened until I decided to open the door, sliding on the little chain to keep it from fully opening.

"What do you want!? I asked again to a third guy that appeared at the door, clothed like the others, also pretty sporty, looking like some mitlitary guy as I could see him wearing one of those classic army shorts.

But again, he just looked at me quietly, eventually lifting his hand. It almost seemed like some kind of pet behaviour, like a cat, very gently asking to come in. And suddenly it hit me, the crazy thought that those guys, those looks, somehow reminded me of... the creatures! There even seemed to be four guys in total as far as I could tell.

It didn't take long from that point that I just couldn't resist the urge of finding that out. As creepy as it was to have those half naked, muscular guys luring infront of my motel room at night in the middle of nowhere I just had to let them in.

So I clised the door to release the chain and ss I opened it again those guys came in quietly, looking at me as they looked before with me having next to no doubt, that in some unexplainable way those guys looked at me like those creatures did, their presence feeling just like those slugish pals I grew to feel so familiar with.

"Are you..." I started, unable to find a word to discribe my sluggish friends "...them"

And with that one of them opened his mouth, letting out a raspy voice as if he answered, leaving me with the strong feeling of a "yes"...

[lohotine]

AN: ARGAGRAGAFAGGSGAGAHA (Going feral for this man)

Espresso x Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: LOTS of kissing + tension, mild swearing, kinda enemies to lovers

-Hate me-

God, you hated everything about him. From how mouthy he was to how he always felt the need to be better than you! He was honestly just the worst.

And now he was right there infront of you. Look at him! One of the worst being to come into existence...

"Don't you know that staring is rude?" Espresso would ask from across the table.

"I am not staring," you snapped back.

"Well if it's not that then you must be gazing with admiration." Espresso let out a small chuckle before looking towards you once again.

The mere thought of it was absolutely repulsive. Why would you ever hold admiration for somebody like him?

I mean, he was so snarky, hardly took care of his health, always thought that he was the center of everything, researched way too much, was incredibly smart, always looked dashing, had eyes that could swoon anyone and- what were you thinking about again?

Right. Espresso is the worst!

"You know, I absolutely despise you," You'd say.

"Uh huh... And that's why you talk about me all of the time?"

"I'm complaining about you." You crossed your arms.

"Glad to know I'm always on your mind..." He'd roll a pen around on the table nonchalantly, not taking any of your words seriously.

"You're so irritating!"

"You're not any-"

"Would you two stop bickering like children and please take this outside? We are trying to have a productive meeting here." Latte Cookie seemed to be fed up with the both of you. So did the other professors.

Espresso sighed before reluctantly exiting the room with you.

"Look at what you did, ass-hole," you muttered under your breath.

"The only thing that got us kicked out was your own immaturity."

"You were acting just as bad. Don't start."

"Oh my God, would you please shut up already?"

"Make me."

Espresso would send you a nasty side eye before grabbing both of your wrists with one of his hands. He'd push you up against the nearest wall, placing a hand firmly at your side.

"Hey! What the h-"

Before you could continue any of your protests, Espresso's lips would meet with your own, and instantly, you'd melt into the kiss.

The kiss was desperate and messy, and for a long time neither of you dared to pull away.

"For someone who hates me, you're not resisting this very much," he would say in-between kisses.

"You have me pinned-"

He continued to kiss you needily.

"'Using hardly any strength. You could have easily gotten out if you wanted to." He leaned closer to your ear. "But you didn't. I wonder why that is~"

Though you couldn't see his face, you knew he was smiling. A heavy blush dusted your own face, and just out of petty, you'd move your hands a little.

Espresso's grasp immediately tightens. "Don't be like that. You've already shown me that you like this quite a lot."

He resumed kissing you, making you breathless and your knees grow weak. Everything about this felt so wrong yet so right at the same time. You needed more of this. You needed more of him.

Espresso would continue to kiss you, hungry for the taste of you. Your bottom lip had become swollen from all if the biting and kissing, and his grasp around your waist had gotten tighter.

At this point, you had not only stopped resisting him, but had fully embraced it.

If you had told yourself from a few days ago that Espresso would be choking you out with his tongue, and that you were enjoying it, they would have looked at you as if you'd grown two heads.

Then the doors to the meeting room flew open, exposing the both of you.

"Aha! I TOLD YOU THEY WOULD MAKE OUT. LATTE, YOU OWE ME TWENTY BUCKS!" Eclair would call out.

Latte just face palmed.

《☆》 Fin

[pinkandpurple360]

to me the difference between show Stolas and instagram Stolas is that insta Stolas feels closer to what they were actually going for

insta Stolas actually spends time with Via, so he's less neglectful to her. they go clothes shopping, he teaches her magic, etc. but he's still wrecked her life with his cheating. if he was supposed to be a deconstruction of the sympathetic adulterer, insta Stolas is way closer to that idea than show Stolas, since they gave up on even pretending Stolas did anything wrong the minute s2 started

same with his relationship with Blitzo, honestly. instagram Stolas has a one night stand followed by Blitzo stealing his book, Stolas constantly flirting with him over text but mostly not pushing it beyond that and them hanging out occasionally. what I remember most is the movie night watching Spirit. Stolas promises to keep his hands to himself and as far as the instagrams go, it seems he actually kept his promise. it's hard to imagine him sexually harassing Blitzo the way he did in Loo Loo Land

but Stolas still has the flaws of projecting all his romantic hopes onto Blitzo, of being accidentally condescending to both him and IMP (even if he at least acknowledges the existence of Blitzo's colleagues and daughter, which his show self has yet to manage even once). I'd feel their relationship might have a chance if they could both work on their issues, whereas the show rendered it DOA with Murder Family and cranked it all the way up to openly toxic and abusive on Stolas' end in Apology Tour. (I know saying 'Blitzo isn't repulsed by Stolas' as a positive should be a low bar to clear for most ships but at least with instagram Stol1tz there was a foundation that could be built on)

I guess what I'm getting at here is insta Stolas is still very, very flawed and can be dislikeable. but unlike his show self, I think he's salvageable. if this Stolas apologized to Via to the damage he'd caused, I'd feel at least a bit sad for him if she cut him off. If this Stolas promised Blitzo he'd be better and work on his classism, I'd be more inclined to think he was capable of change. With show Stolas I have no hesitation in saying both Via and Blitzo should cut him off and answer any of his self-pitying manipulative attempts to win him back with 'go cry about it'

Idk, I guess my tl;dr here is that even with insta Stolas I could get why someone wouldn't like him. I'd just take him over show Stolas because insta Stolas would work a lot better with the framing they're trying to force on show Stolas - that he's a mess but could be a good person deep down if he got his shit together

Lol is that what the line at the end of Ozzies was referencing? “We could just watch a movie?”

This one post does a better job at making me sympathise with stolas in his marriage than the entire show in two seasons beating me over the head with it and practically pouring stolas tears down my throat.

It’s called subtlety.

And I completely agree. They had a much better foundation. But it’s far too late. This is just abuse now and there’s no going back on it.

[generalhumancloudalmond]

Hi! Thank you for your request :)

...

Teddy bear

Platonic!Yandere!Mori Ougai x Child!Fem!Reader x Platonic!Yandere!Elise

"Um... Please... Um... Excuse me... Sir... Um... Miss... Can you...?"

Another fast-passing person pushed you away, hurting you. All your life you grew up in a small suburb and that's why you were so glad to finally see the big port city firsthand. However, as often happens, expectation and reality didn't coincide...

Noisy streets where someone is constantly honking or shouting, huge buildings, that make your head spin and a huge flow of people, who don't care about you. How many times have you been pushed away? Tears began to burn your eyes painfully. However, you couldn't cry, at least not until you found either your mom or the police station...

With each repulsion and ignoring, it only got worse for you, and the eye on your teddy bear backpack came off. Exhausted, you show the photo to another person and suddenly feel like the photo is being taken out of your hands, you look up in fright. Noticing this, the person in front of you begins to justify himself guiltily.

"I'll just take a closer look, okay?"

Your eyes light up immediately.

"Yes! My mom is standing in the center. There is also a woman with glasses near her!"

"Oh, I see. She's wearing a purple blouse, am I correct?"

"Yes! Yes, that's her!"

The photo you showed was a group photo. There were 5 other people on it, besides your mom. Your eyes were burning with the fire of hope while the man in front of you was looking at the photo, his face was serious until his gaze returned to you. He smiled and handed the photo to you.

"How old are you?"

"I'm already five years old!"

"Five years... I see..."

The man in front of you rubbed his chin thoughtfully, while his hand came down on your head, ruffling your hair a little. Suddenly a girl with golden hair ran up to both of you, she pointedly stamped her foot and began to express her dissatisfaction.

"Rintaro! How much longer do I have to wait in the car?! You're not even in a hurry!"

Abruptly, her gaze darted to you and your photo. After a second, she turned away from you.

"Elice, please don't look at me like that!"

"Okay, whatever..."

Elice took your hand unexpectedly firmly.

"We'll be waiting in the car!"

Elice shouted to Rintaro for the last time and dragged you to the car. You didn't even have time to make a sound when she started explaining.

"Rintaro knows your mother, he'll figure out everything on his own. By the way, I like your backpack! But what with an eye?"

"Um... Thank you... I... I think, I lose it somewhere in crowd, while asking people."

Little by little, you managed to strike up a conversation with Elice. You showed her your briefcase in the shape of a bear, and she showed you a large number of boxes in the trunk and announced that it was all sweets. To say that your jaw dropped after that is not to say anything.

"Wow! Is there some kind of celebration today?"

"Yeah, Rintaro left home on his own, not for work. In his age, it's remarkable."

Elice replied sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. You tilted your head slightly, processing her words, when the car door opened.

"Finally! Rintaro, where are you...?"

Elice froze before she could finish, as did you. The blonde girl quickly pulled you closer to her while the man was installing the car seat. Surprisingly, Elice waited patiently, only giggling occasionally when he got confused in the installation and looked at the instructions again. However, in the end, you were still sitting in the car seat, and Rintaro was driving.

"I'm sorry... But I don't remember if I asked you for your name or not, could you introduce yourself to me again, little one?"

"I am Y/n."

"It's a very good name. Y/n, I'll help you find your mom, but you'll have to behave and wait a bit, okay?"